Not Reddit fully embracing the Lestappen era: 😭
Charles "it doesn't cost anything to be nice" Leclerc and Max "it doesn't cost anything to be a bitch either" Verstappen
Star child and Bad guy 🥰
There are three types of people after this breakup and it's hilarious.
Type 1: I'm heartbroken, my heart is shattered, they were the only reason I believed in love 😭💔💔
Type 2: I'm gonna go to Monaco, Charles is single, im so happy (we're all bisexual for him - type-thing) 😝🤭😍
Type 3: OK, so when is he gonna start dating Max?
still into you
pairing: max verstappen/charles leclrec
word count: 500
a/n: set somewhere after the abu dahbi gp at that party they all seem to have gone to.
prompt was “You used to have feelings for me. Admit it.” taken from this list. feel free to send me one of them and i’ll write a little drabble!
Charles, desperate for some fresh air, opens the back door of the club they’ve all been partying in, only to find Max already there.
He’s leaning against one of the walls, next to some trash cans, holding a beer bottle and seemingly staring off into the distance. Max barely acknowledges his presence, but he does scoot over a little, making room for Charles to lean against the wall next to him.
“Needed some fresh air, too?” Charles asks, sighing as the cold bricks hit his overheated back.
Max hums. “Still can’t quite believe it. Like, I know I technically won the championship weeks ago but it all feels so official, now. Bit overwhelming, almost.”
Charles bumps their shoulder together. “Well, it’s well deserved. Shame it is the last one you will ever win,” he says, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“We’ll see about that,” Max says, but he seems a bit more relaxed now, grinning widely at Charles.
“If all else fails, I can always push you into a puddle again,” Charles says, startling a laugh out of Max.
“God, you were such a little shit back then,” Max says, but he says it so incredibly fondly, it makes Charles’s heart stutter in his chest. “Pulling my pigtails all the time.”
Charles snorts. “I wasn’t that obsessed with you.”
“Oh, admit it,” Max says, and he’s pushed off the wall now, body fully turned towards Charles. “You absolutely used to have feelings for me.” He’s joking, he’s clearly joking, but something in Charles loosens, thinks fuck it. It’s probably the three shots of vodka he downed earlier.
“Who says I ever stopped?” He looks Max straight in his eyes as he says it, almost defiantly, so he sees the way Max’s breath hitches before he lurches forward, grabbing Charles’s face in his hands and kissing him with an urgency that can only come from two people who’ve been waiting for over a decade to do this.
Charles hands reach up to grab Max’s waist, and Max pushes him backwards until his back is flush with the wall, one hand still on Charles face while the other comes to rest on his shoulder.
It’s desperate and frenzied and a little clumsy, but it’s still everything Charles has ever wanted. When Max eventually pulls away, clearly a bit reluctantly, his pupils are blown wide and his lips are kiss swollen and he’s never ever looked more beautiful. Charles wishes he could savor this moment, put it in his pocket, so he can revisit it over and over and over again.
“For the record,” Max says, “I absolutely used to have feelings for you too.”
“Yeah,” Charles says, a laughing a little breathlessly, “I figured as much.”
And then he pulls Max in for another kiss, just because.
he was punk she did ballet
"Don't tell Verstappen that Charles broke up, otherwise you'll find the Dutchman under Leclerc's house in 1 hour with a bouquet of roses in his hand"
Spot the Difference: Impossible Edition Pt 2
As a fan of lestappen since June 2019, this will remain one of my favorite pictures of them. There weren’t many pictures of them back then :(
2022 feels like a fever dream
I didn't need any more writing material but Charles woke up yesterday and said "here's something for you to write another full universe of fics, merry Christmas."
More Lawyer Max for the people on this fine morning!!!
(while I’m avoiding lawyering for as long as I can-which is like ten more minutes)
Warnings: nsfw because why not, also contains lawyer talk (this one is warning for traumatised law students)
Charles was laying on the bed, legs still not strong enough to hold him up. One thing led to another and he and Max moved things from the living room table to the bed again, and what followed was even better than last night.
Max took his leave, stating he had cats to feed and series to binge watch, and that was like half an hour before now. Max just stood up from the bed, put on his weird clothes and gave Charles a toe-curling kiss that left him breathless and panting, craving more. Max simply chuckled and left, leaving Charles on his bed, trying to not turn into a goo.
It was a few hours later when he realised that the man never signed the NDA.
Charles was pretty sure he didn’t expect to see Max again, even with the failed NDA situation. But here he was, on his knees, in a Sass’ bathroom sucking the other man off like his life depended on it.
“God Charles, your mouth,” Max groaned, hips snapping forward. Charles groaned at the feeling, enjoying it even though if it was anyone else he would probably stop or even bite. He had a reputation to upheld, after all. The hand in his hair tightened, pulling him off the cock he was sucking.
“Take me home pretty boy, we have serious business to attend,” Max whispered dirtily in his ear, his hot breath sending shivers down Charles’ spine.
The ride to his flat was taking too fucking long, like the taxi driver had nothing better to do than to go slow. Max’s thumb has been rubbing circles into the skin on Charles’ thigh for the past ten minutes, and it was driving him crazy. Max was cleanly shaven today, dressed in yet another boring white shirt, but he had on the tightest jeans Charles ever saw, and he couldn’t say no to that. Also he wouldn’t say no, not when he was perfectly aware of what the man would do to him with his tongue.
“We’re here, gentlemen,” the taxi driver announced, handing the bill and card terminal to Charles, who slapped his card on it, ready to fucking go and get some.
“Someone’s impatient,” Max chuckled as Charles dragged him inside, slamming the button to his floor.
“Shut up,” Charles growled, hypnotising the elevator numbers going up.
“Bossy, I like it,” Max drawled, pulling Charles to his chest, letting him feel the impressive hard on he was sporting.
“Not at all,” Charles said cockily, pushing back to hear Max moan lowly.
“Do not tel me you have to go to feed your cats again,” Charles complained groggily when he got woken up by Max’s alarm at what seemed like seven am on Monday morning.
Two warm hands sneaked around his waist, soft lips leaving hot kisses over his neck. There was a light scratch of stubble that accompanied the lips, and Charles would not admit it out loud, but he was loving it.
“Yes, the cats need their food, but my students need their education as well,” Max murmured, letting his hands slide down from Charles’ waist to his thighs, circling around his more and more excited cock.
“I will buy your cats an automatic feeder, and your students can survive once without their education,” Charles tried weakly, arching his neck for more kisses.
“Arguing with a lawyer, that’s very brave, or stupid,” Max whispered, dragging his teeth down the side of Charles’ neck. “I doubt there’s automatic feeder for wet cat food, but sure. And who said I don’t have enough time to say proper goodbye?” Charles could hear the smirk in Max’s voice, and the unmistakable feeling of a hard cock poking his back. “I set my alarm sooner, so now I can have my way with you and not be late,” Max laughed, licking over Charles’ ear shell.
“You are a horrible-“ the rest of his accusation was drowned out by his moan, as Max finally put his hands to a good use, leaving Charles breathless and panting.
“You were saying?” Max asked sweetly, and Charles was sure that if he could see the man’s face, there would be a smug grin pulling on those full lips.
“Nothing, go on mister lawyer, I am all yours,” he panted, desperate for more.
“Careful, that’s quite a serious proclamation, I might take you for granted, mister driver,” Max fired back, teasing Charles some more. “Now be a good boy,” Max rasped, and Charles was quick to obey.
“Don’t forget to sign the fucking NDA,” Charles called after Max, as he heard the man rummaging through his kitchen. He was still laid on the bed, because his legs were bit too boneless.
“Did you get a new one?” Max called back.
“Nope, still the old one,” he shouted, not even caring if he woke up his neighbours. If he had to be awake that soon, he would inflict it upon others.
“Well, then I’m not signing it.” Max’s voice sounded from the doorway, where he was munching on a dry piece of toast. “Aren’t you a pretty sight,” he said, coming closer to Charles. Charles tried his best puppy eyes on the man, and it seemed to work, because Max leaned closer, toast hanging loosely from his fingers. Before Max could lean in and kiss him, Charles lurched forward and bit into the toast, tearing off a good half of it.
“Hey! That’s my toast you demon!” Max protested, while Charles quickly chewed his stolen toast. It always tasted better than when he took it for himself.
“Too bad, now it’s mine. Don’t you have a class to teach, teacher?” he asked, nudging Max with his knee.
“Right, I do. Have fun doing whatever you rich brats do,” he sing sang and with one last peck to his lips turned around. Charles was in middle of admiring how Max’s ass slightly jiggled in his tight jeans when the man stopped.
“Oh and by the way, I am not a teacher, I’m a professor, but you can call me daddy next time in the bed,” he said conversationally, winking at speechless Charles. With that, he walked out, leaving Charles alone with stirring cock and horny, horny images floating in his mind.
so girlfriends come and go, teammates come and go, team principals come and go. but do you ever think about how the two of you remain constant in each other’s lives? that stupid kid you met in 2009 who kept messing up your races (or is it the other way around?) is the same dopey eyed man you’re trying outwit on the track some 13 years later. maybe you don’t really know him at all because you’re not friends, but at the same time no one knows him better than you. because when you’re gone and your name becomes words in the history books, they will call you a “formula 1 driver” and hopefully they will call you one of the all time greats, and this thing - this racing - is ultimately what ends up defining you (and him) in the eternal archive that is the history of our world. your legacy, if you will. so it doesn’t matter that he likes gaming until 3 am and you play the piano that he’d rather shunt out the window, or that he owns a single white shirt and your fashion sense is sometimes best left unspoken, because when both of you are inked into the history books, when they have to parse your life down to a few paragraphs - they will say the two of you were part of the same story. in all the ways that mattered, he was a constant.
sometimes i miss 2019 max and how wild he was 😭 like let’s get some resurgence of 2019 lestappen. i want the angry awkward interactions laced with a slight twinge of longing.
omg hiii, i love your last lestappen post!! it reminded me of max's "daddy" shirt and charles' "pleasure is a serious matter" shirt
Hii! Thanks 💖
YOU'RE RIGHT, THANKS TO BRINGING THIS GEM BACK
Hi! From the prompt list: 1. "Ok, maybe I have a crush on you. So what?" and 33. "I don't want them. I want you." I couldn't decide, so you pick one (or both ahah).
Also, I'm not sure if we have to specify, but lestappen :)
hi!!!! first of all thank you for the prompt :)))) i ended up going with the first one, because someone else send in the second one as well (so i will be writing that one too, eventually!!!) also thank you for specifying!! i really only write lestappen rn so it’s actually perfect haha
"Ok, maybe I have a crush on you. So what?"
It’s busy in the paddock, people mulling about, preparing for the upcoming race, and it’s kind of distracting. Max is a few feet away from Charles, giving an interview, and he’s looking so unfairly hot, it’s making Charles want to eat his goddamn helmet.
Instead of doing something stupid, like going over there and kissing Max Verstappen full on the mouth, Charles takes out his phone and texts Pierre.
‘he is so unfairly pretty I am going to YELL’
Charles bites his nail as he waits for Pierre to respond, glancing over to where Max has finished his interview and is frowning at something on his phone. Charles’s own phone pings.
‘max???? literally who else’
The typing bubble appears, but no message. Charles wonders what on earth Pierre has to say that’s taking him ages to type as his eyes once again wander back to Max. He’s staring at his phone with a slightly shocked expression on his face, fingers hovering over his phone screen but not typing anything.
Charles sighs and looks back at his phone, staring at the three little typing bubbles until a message from Pierre finally pops up again.
‘oh my god pierre i do not have TIME for this, yes verstappen!!!! he is standing a few feet away from me and he has ARMS and i need to have a crisis about it please catch up’
When Charles looks up this time it’s only to find Max already staring at him, open mouthed, and Charles, unsure why Max is looking at him like that, waves a little awkwardly. Max doesn’t wave back, just looks back at his phone, furiously typing. A second later, Charles’s phone pings.
‘i think you’ve been texting the wrong number.’
Pierre, who on closer inspection turns out to be absolutely not Pierre, responds. Charles nearly drops his phone in near panic when he realizes he’s been texting Max himself this entire time. Because of the hustle an bustle around him he never noticed, and now he’s going to have to move to Mars to avoid the pure awkwardness of basically having told his crush he thinks he’s pretty and has good arms.
When he glances up Max has been swept away by his team, which is even worse, because now they can’t even talk about it and shit. Fuck.
‘i’m so so so sorry, i thought i was texting pierre’
Max doesn’t reply. Charles doesn’t want to know if it’s because he’s already handed off his phone or because he just doesn’t want to talk to Charles anymore. Charles hopes it’s the first. He fears it’s the latter.
The race goes utterly shit, because Charles can’t focus on anything aside from the phone interaction with Max, and he’s glad to be back in his hotel room, later that night. He falls back on the bed, exhausted, scrubbing his face with his hands. He hadn’t seen Max, after the race. Max had actually managed to make it onto the podium, and Charles had sort of slinked off as Max got swept up into the festivities.
He's just contemplating whether he’s going to watch a movie or just go to bed, when there’s a knock on his hotel room door. Frowning, he gets up to open it.
“Charles,” Max says, as he swings the door open. “I’m sorry for disturbing you like this, but I figured we should talk.”
“Oh,” Charles says, not sure if this is a good or a bad thing. “Sure. Come in?”
Clearly neither of them really know how to act, so they just end up standing sort of awkwardly in the middle of Charles’s hotel room, staring at each other. “Right,” Max says, “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” Charles asks, though he’s pretty sure he knows what Max means.
Max smiles, almost a little bashfully. “You think I’m pretty?”
Charles groans. “Jesus Christ, Max. You don’t have to be an asshole about it. Yes, I think you are pretty. Maybe I have a crush on you. So what? I am a big boy, I can handle it. You will never even notice, we can act like we always do.”
“I, what, crush?” Max stammers, seemingly utterly confused, “Wait. Who says I want that?”
This time Charles is genuinely confused. “Want what?”
“Act like we always do.”
Charles, who’s slowly starting to wish he’d never even gotten out of bed that morning, sighs deeply. “Fine. Then we can stop interacting all together, if that is what you want.”
Max lets out a frustrated noise and takes a step closer, reaching his hand out like he’s going to touch Charles, but clearly not daring to, so his hand just sort of hoovers midair. “Jesus, Charles, no. I meant. What if I think you’re pretty, too?”
“Oh,” Charles says, struggling a little bit to process that information. In his head, he was already preparing for a night of heartbreak and ice cream and this. This was. Oh my god. “Oh,” he repeats, a little more urgently, staring at Max with wide eyes. “That would be. Fantastic, actually.”
“Cool,” Max says, “Because I do. Think you’re pretty.”
“Right,” Charles says, a grin starting to creep up on his face. “And uh, were you maybe planning on doing something about that, or…?”
Max grins too, takes another step forward, and suddenly he’s kissing Charles, soft and demanding all at once, and Charles feels like he’s floating. It’s a short kiss, really nothing more than a press of lips, Max pulling away way too soon for Charles’s liking, but it still feels like a life changing event all the same.
“I’m glad you’re bad a texting,” Max says, smiling a little mischievously at Charles.
“You know what? I am not even going to argue with you on that one,” Charles says, and pulls Max in for another kiss. A proper one, this time.