#not going through how red bull handled this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherry-leclerc · 5 months

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can’t you see ☆ mv1

genre: redbull!driver, enemies to lovers, smut, lando and danny playing cupid lol, protective!max (although he won’t admit it), mean!max, sub!max, dom!reader

word count: 3.2k

In between your mutual dislike with your teammate, Lando and Daniel try their best to make you and Max uncover some hidden feelings.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, riding, sucking on fingers

req!...quick one, but ahh first maxie drabble. eekk :)

“What a fucking asshole.”

Daniel’s eyes bulge out as he hands you a cup of coffee. It had been an extremely long day. Perhaps not the best idea to keep it going, but it seemed like the FIA didn’t give a shit about that. You were past being upset. You were seething.

“Uh…Yeah. I mean I get it. I’m tired, too. This red flag came at the worst time-”

Briskly, you take the cup from him, cutting him off. “It’s not the red flag, it’s Max.” Ever since you joined Formula 1 as the first female to drive for Red Bull, you had felt welcomed by everyone. Everyone but your actual teammate. You had thought maybe it was because he had small balls and couldn’t handle the fact that you were driving alongside him, but when you confronted him about it, he only growled.

As if you would ever cross my fucking mind.

Squinting, you point accusingly at the Australian. “You ought to stop being his friend.” He loudly laughs as he throws his head back.

“You say that every time.”

Making a face, you shoot back. “And you never choose!”

“You’re both my friends. No one is winning custody.”

“You’re older than both of us combined.”

“Hey!”

Hey, a low voice replies. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A shiver runs down your spine. Max leans up against the nearest wall as he ignores you and keeps his eyes on his friend. You wave your hand up in front of him a couple of times for good measure before your mouth drops open when he acts as if you were Casper the Friendly Ghost.

“We were just talking abou- Ouch!” Daniel shrieks in pain when you pinch him. Faking a smile, you turn to the Dutchman. We were actually in the middle of something here. Nothing. He just keeps looking past you. Running a hand through his hair, he starts talking about how this all ‘ruined my flow’ and how he was going to have to ‘try to fix the FIA’s mistakes’. You have to laugh.

“Is something funny to you?”

You look around the room as you theatrically shudder. Sipping on the hot beverage, you hum and close your eyes. Max clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he crosses his arms in frustration. Cold weather, Danny. Do you think there’s a place nearby that sells homemade chicken soup?

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“If we find one, then maybe we can invite Lando and-” Suddenly, he reaches out for your cup and hot drops hit your hand. You hiss in pain. “What’s your problem, dickhead?”

Now, a normal reaction would be to be a decent human being and apologize. Offer up their own cup of coffee, perhaps. Not Max. Throwing it into the nearest trash bin, he turns to you. And he actually has the audacity to look upset.

“Why didn’t you let me overtake you? I don’t know if you don’t know this because you’re new or something like that, but here, when we are instructed to do something - we do it.”

Narrowing your eyes, you step closer. “So what? I don’t let you by one time and suddenly I’m the bad guy? Let me remind you that that’s all I’ve done for you this season.”

“Maybe when you’re someone’s number one driver then you won’t have to do shit like this, but until then,” he angles himself lower to you, “...It kinda looks like you have to.”

“Oh. No.” Daniel winces as he sips quietly on his hot drink. He can physically see your wheels turning as you glare back at the Dutchman. Your cheeks have turned light pink as you refrain yourself from yelling in front of all the Alpha Tauri engineers. Max scrunches his nose.

“Cute.”

You’re about to explode and let all hell loose, but just then, the red flag is over. Huffing, you grab your helmet as you walk away without sparing a single goodbye. Daniel frowns. “You need to stop treating her like that.” Max scoffs. Treating her how? The Australian inches closer as he lays a large hand on his friend's shoulder. “Like you don’t care.”

As soon as the race picks back up, you’re in the zone. You have to work twice as hard to overtake anyone in your way, considering most drivers were on new tires, but eventually you worked your way through. Drops of rain hit your visor as you slow down in sector 2.

“Should I be worried about the rain?”

“Nothing to be worried about, just keep it up.”

You nod, even though Christian can’t see you. As you get closer, you can see Max’s rear wing. He’s fast - zooming, almost - but that only made you want it even more. Defend. I repeat, defend for a 1-2 finish. “Yeah. No.” Entering the DRS zone, you press down on the throttle as you try all tactics to catch up with the 3x World Champion. Fat drops of water hit the Red Bull as you squint in order to not get lost with the commotion. What are you doing? Defend. “I am defending.” You press harder. “Except I’m defending my spot. Not his.”

It’s almost as if he knows what you’re about to do. Quickly, he scans his sideview mirror as he curses when he sees that you weren’t slowing down. It looks like the two Red Bulls are going head-to-head! Probably not the best idea at the moment considering the tough weather, Crofty announces. Passing Max by, you can’t help but cheer as you try to imagine his reaction.

“Not what we were picturing, but very well executed. He will be defending now.”

It wasn’t planned to get stung by a boiling hot coffee, of course it wasn’t, despite the bickering between you two. It wasn’t planned to take time to scratch your burnt hand. And it most definitely was not planned to crash.

Plunging into the wall, you groan, curses flowing past your lips. Are you okay? “Yes. I’m okay.” Lifting your visor, you shyly wave at the grandstands. Would you mind going over to check on Max? He’s currently not responding. Your heart stops. Jumping off your seat, you climb out of your car as you turn and sure enough, Max’s Red Bull is ruined.

“Are you alright?”

Throwing a thumbs up, he lifts himself out of his car to wave at the fans. He turns to you, dark blue helmet still over his head. “What the fuck was that all about?” You narrow your eyes.

“What do you mean? I got an itch.” And though he wears his helmet, you can’t help but notice the crinkles by his eyes. Your stomach flips. It's because of the crash. That’s all it is. You clear your throat. “What happened to you? You were driving well.” Professionally, he slides his gloves off as he waves over at the safety car.

“I had to check on you one way or another, right?”

Dumbfounded, you're faced with his back as he walks away.

“He’s into you, can’t you see it!”

“No. Jesus, don’t even say that.” Lando raises his brows as he throws his legs on top of your bed. Daniel hums from underneath the covers. He’s right, though. Pulling the sheets off, you scowl. “Don’t give me reasons to kick you both out.” Throwing yourself onto the mattress, you smile widely. “Soooo, what’s new?”

It’s all you three are ever good for. Pure gossip. Chewing hard on a piece of pizza, you gag. Daniel cackles as he reaches for the last slice. Hey! What if I wanted that? He cocks his head. Fine, you mumble.

“All I wanted was a warm soup.”

A gentle knock echoes through the room as you all turn to face it. Go and open it, Daniel hisses. Wha- No! You go open it, Lando whispers back. Bunch of babies, you murmur as you untangle yourself from your blanket. Swinging the door open, you freeze. Standing tall is Max with a paper bag at hand.

“Hey.”

Peeking out into the hallway, you stare back confused. “Hey?”

Almost timidly, he kicks his feet up against the wall with a small smile. He extends his arm out, signaling for you to take the mysterious bag. I don’t want any problems, you choke out, feeling skeptical. His blue eyes grow wide.

“Oh. No, don’t worry!” He opens the bag and takes out a small container. Leaning forward, you feel blood rising up to your cheeks. “It’s just soup.”

After an awkward exchange, he leaves. Inhaling the delicious scent, you let out a dreamy sigh.

“He so likes her.”

“We might have been wrong.”

Lando tilts his head, curly strands bouncing at the motion. Daniel hurriedly takes a seat next to the Brit as he smacks his large hands on the table. “What do you mean, mate?”

Daniel scans the room quickly before shaking his head. “I mean, that I just heard them two. They were going at it.” Lando blushes as he lets out an awkward laugh. I don’t even want to know. The Australian bites back a smile as he continues. “Not like that. Yet. What I mean is that they’re back to square one. He’s being a complete dick.”

“Alright. Looks like we have to knock some sense into him.”

Go, Daniel mouths once Max enters the debrief room, eyes entertained on his phone screen. Pushing past the Dutch, Charles jogs over to where you sit next to George. “Hey!” Greeting him back with a warm smile, you pat to the open seat. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite after this. Maybe some chicken soup?” You beam.

“I love a good soup!”

Rapidly, Max’s ears perk up as he hears your conversation with the Monegasque. He was well over the rivalry, but with this? He would not second guess bringing it back. He clenches his jaw as he notices you nodding along with Charles. Strolling over to the small group, he shoots a bitter grin.

“Did you see Christian’s message about our last minute meeting?”

“Hello to you, too.” Checking your phone, you look back confused with a pout. “No. I haven't received anything.”

“Yeah, well, there’s one-”

“No, there's not.” Flickering your eyes behind your teammate, you’re even more lost. With hands on his hips, Christian taps his shoe as his eyes flicker between his two Red Bull drivers. “Don’t mind him, sweetheart. There’s no meeting.” He sends a small wink at Charles before walking off to the rest of the team principles. Max slumps.

“Ha. Guess it got canceled or something like that…”

Rushing over Lando and Daniel, Charles hunches over as he starts blabbering. “Did it work? Please tell me it worked - God - I think I almost shit myself. Tell me it fucking wo-”

The Brit points discreetly to where Max paces the room, orbs trained on you like a guard dog.

“It’s definitely working.”

He smacks a one hundred dollar bill onto a large hand.

“And thank you for the help, too, Mr. Horner.”

Despite the attempts to get you and Max together, nothing seemed to work. The blue eyed boy would appear to start registering his feelings, and at the last minute, would completely chicken out. It would be an outright lie to say that this didn’t entertain the Alpha Tauri and McLaren boys, but they also knew that they had to continue their fairy godparent duties.

“Watch it!”

Crashing onto the couch inside of the Red Bull Hospitality, Max’s face bounces against it. He groans in pain before throwing a harsh stare at his friends. Lando stiffles a giggle as Daniel raises his arms up in defense. Getting seated, the Dutch looks back with a sour expression.

“What’s this hostile situation about?”

Lando panics as he turns to his mate. The Aussie licks his lips, patting his lap. “Look, we’ve noticed a few things-” What things? He huffs. “Maybe if you would just let me finish-” That’s what she said! He glares at Lando who slaps a hand over his mouth, tears from unreleased laughter painting his blue eyes. “As I was saying…We’ve noticed your behavior towards a special little someone…”

“Towards Heidi? Shit. I didn’t think it’d be that noticeable.”

Lando clicks his fingers rapidly before pointing at the Red Bull driver. “He’s trying to not talk about it because he knows where this is going!” No, I’m not, Max shrieks as his voice cracks. Blushing, he pushes his hat lower to his face.

“You like her!”

“You know I like Heidi! She’s good for you-”

“You know that’s not who we’re talking about.”

It’s silent for a while. Standing up, Daniel goes to sit next to the 26 year old. Running a hand over his face, Max’s sighs as he looks up. “I’m not…used to feeling this way, okay?”

“That’s totally fine, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat her like a piece of gum stuck at the bottom of your shoe. She’s amazing. Could have anyone - and I mean anyone - but she likes you. I don’t know why or how, but she likes you.” Daniel scoots away when Max narrows his eyes.

“She doesn’t like me.”

Jumping over the coffee table, Lando plops down. “Yes! She does. Ask me how I know.” A bored expression slashes Max’s face as he asks anyway. How, Lando? How do you know? “Because she’s always fighting with you.”

Daniel clicks his tongue as he slowly squints his brown eyes. “I don’t think you’re making the point you think you’re making, mate.” The Brit waves him off.

“I’m dead serious. When she gets upset, she always walks away because she claims to not want to waste her time on stupid arguments. But with you,” he pushes his index finger against the Red Bull polo, “With you she never - ever - walks away. Sure, you’re both at each others throats, but that only means one thing.” He leans against the sofa as he takes a sip of the open energy drink.

“She doesn’t mind wasting time on you.”

After some more convincing, the duo had managed to raise the 26 year olds confidence. They could be wrong. Embarrassingly wrong, but how would he ever know if he never tried? Taking in a deep breath, he finds himself knocking on your door.

“More soup?”

Sheepishly, he shakes his head. His heart skips a beat as he notices how laid back you seem. How relaxed you were. He was going to ruin all that. He was going to say something that would change everything and things might never be the sa-

“Wanna come in?”

Handing him a plate of cut up watermelon, you take a seat in front of him, legs tucked beneath your butt. What are you doing out so late at night, Mr. Max Verstappen? He sets the plate down as he forces himself to mold into his chair.

“I’ve never hated you.”

You blink. Clearing his throat, he looks down to his lap as he fiddles his fingers. “I know I’ve been such a bad teammate - I know - but I promise that it never had to do with you.”

“Okay. So…then what did it have to do with?”

He lets out a croaky laugh as he shuts his eyes. “That’s the tough part…” Opening his blue eyes, he finds you staring back, waiting for an answer. “I feel the opposite of hate…towards you.” He hates the way your face doesn’t change and you remain still. He hates when you shrink back and chew on your lip.

But he could never find himself hating the moment you climb onto his lap.

“T-that’s not what I came here for-”

“I know.” You slide your hands against his stubble. “Your confession was…adorable. Had trouble saying those words out loud, right? Because you,” you strum your finger against his chest, “...You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.”

Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. A giggle bubbles up your throat, eyes crinkling shut. His breath hitches. “I feel things…” Your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. Sure you do, Maxie-

Grabbing your face with his left hand, he kisses you. It’s hot, feverish, and impatient.

It’s him.

Whimpering, you grind against him as he groans underneath you. Forcing himself to pull away from your warm lips, he cocks his head to the side. “Was that enough proof?”

“I might need more.”

It’s such a moment of pure adrenaline, that you can’t even pinpoint the moment your hatred towards him had turned into lust. All you know is that it felt so good to be riding him. Squeezing your hips, he lifts you up as he lets out a strained moan. The sound itself makes you drip even more.

You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him moaning your name like a prayer. Oh, fuck. Holy shit. Pushing his hands down, he opens his eyes as he looks back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again. But he’s already kissed you. He’s already been inside of you.

He would beg you to stay in order to make you keep it that way.

“B-baby.” He whimpers with the way you dig yourself against him before circling your hips. Slow. “It’s okay if you want to stop-” You slide his fingers into your mouth. He swears he could finish with such a pretty sight.

“I don’t want to. I just want you to say sorry for everything you’ve ever done to me.”

“I already said I never meant any of it! You’re absolutely everything to me.”

Your core grows tighter with his affirmations. Holding onto his broad shoulders, you continue your sinister rhythm. “Maybe. But I still want one.”

“I’m so-”

Rubbing your bare tits against his chest, he shudders as he harshly pinches your thigh. Try again. “I said I’m so-” Pulling all the way out, you slide back down onto his cock. “Oh - don’t fucking do that.”

“Try again.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry.”

A satisfied smile slides onto your plump lips as you nod before kissing him and riding him the way you know he deserves. With one last hop, you both finish as he moans into your neck. Your fingers push his sweaty, blondish strands away before pressing your lips against his cheek. He smiles weakly.

“I like you, too.” You look down before returning your attention. “But I can’t be with you.”

“Wh-”

“Max. Let’s be realistic here. I’m a girl in Formula 1. You don’t know how hard I’ve worked to get here. I’ve had to do twice the work simply because I’m not a man.” You roll your eyes. “People are going to hate me. Call me names - God, I can already hear them.”

He never thought his heart could actually hurt for someone. You were really messing him up. He gingerly rubs small circles against your cheek.

“I’ll ruin whoever says anything bad about you, but please give this a chance. I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I do you. Please.”

And yes, there will be nasty comments. Hateful interpretations about your relationship. But that never really mattered as long as you had him.

4K notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 7 months

Note

hiii! with the chaos that was today’s career, could I request one with driver reader that she started telling her team that she wasn’t feeling good but still wanted to continue but the next moment she isn’t answering her radio because she fainted in the car and the car goes out, the marshals take her out of the car and she doesn’t wake up, maybe she has extreme dehydration and is hot to touch, etc.

How the other drivers react when they found out, her team, etc.

Thank you

Too Hot To Handle

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: the Qatar Grand Prix pushed every driver to the limit … and some past the limit

Warnings: heat stroke, dehydration, crash, medical conditions

The Lusail International Circuit hums with electric anticipation, its asphalt ribbon shimmering under the floodlights. The roar of the crowd fills the night but the oppressive heat weighs on everyone, creating a contrasting atmosphere of excitement and cautious apprehension.

Standing alongside your Red Bull Racing car, you wipe a bead of sweat from your brow. In only your first year with the reigning double champions, you already have a record that has quickly become the talk of the paddock. But for all the praise and whispers, there is one voice that stands out.

“Remember, liefje, it’s not just about speed tonight. Keep hydrated, alright?” Max’s voice is full of warmth and concern. His hand rests gently on your arm.

You flash him a confident smile even though you’re battling your nerves internally. “I’ve raced in heat before, Maxie. I won in Singapore. I’ll be fine.”

He pulls you into a quick embrace, the temperature doing little to dampen the spark between you. “It’s different here. This heat ... it’s like nothing I’ve ever raced in before.”

Pulling back, you raise an eyebrow teasingly. “You worried about me, Verstappen?”

He laughs but there’s a hint of steely seriousness in his blue eyes. “Always. Just ... promise me you’ll be careful out there. For both our sakes.”

You nod, touching your helmet to his. “Promise.”

The intercom in your ear crackles to life. “Drivers, to your cars!”

You both exchange a final glance. Racing is in your blood, it’s what brought you together, but it also keeps you apart, if only for the few hours you’re no longer partners in life but competitors on track.

Sliding into your car, you secure your helmet and gloves. The world outside becomes a bit muffled but your focus sharpens. The engine’s purr is a familiar comfort, but tonight, it’s edged with the unease Max’s words left behind.

Your race engineer, Hugh Bird, checks in over the radio, “Everything good, Y/N?”

You take a deep breath, “As good as it’ll ever be. Let’s light up this track.”

“Give them a show.”

Lights out and away we go.

***

The Qatar Grand Prix unfolds with its usual mix of intensity and skill, drivers navigating tight turns and overtaking with precision. But beneath the spectacle, a subtle tension mounts. The oppressive heat, the stark floodlights, and the weight of expectation — all of it seems to be building to something.

In the garage and on the pit wall, your team closely monitors the race and your performance. Hugh occasionally chimes in with updates, “You’re doing great, Y/N. Remember to hydrate whenever you need to.”

You nod even though he can’t see it, “Understood. The heat’s something else in here.”

A pause. Then, “Just keep stead. And Max told GP to tell me to tell you to remember what he said.”

A smile touches your lips, “I always do.”

***

The track is a blur as you push your car to its limits, feeling the adrenaline surge in tandem with the roar of the engines. It’s as if the heat has seeped into your very core, burning with intensity. Each lap feels slightly longer, every turn a tad sharper, as the humid air takes its toll.

“Y/N,” Hugh radioes through, sounding distant and slightly distorted by the pounding in your head, “you’re P2. Great pace. Remember to sip some water.”

A trickle of sweat runs down the side of your face, stinging your eye. Blinking rapidly, you reach for the button that activates your hydration system.

“Got it,” your voice sounds foreign even to your own ears. The water is lukewarm and tastes metallic, not as refreshing as you had hoped.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he urges.

With every lap, the world outside your visor seems to grow brighter, the floodlights shimmering like mirages in a desert. The race has become a battle, not just against other drivers but against the environment and, increasingly, against yourself.

“You’re dropping pace. Is everything alright?” Hugh’s concerned voice crackles through.

A knot tightens in your stomach. “I don’t know. I ...” You trail off, the words catching in your throat as a wave of overwhelming dizziness hits.

You can hear the alarm in your engineer’s voice becoming more pronounced. “Y/N, talk to me. Do we need to pit?”

The heat wraps around you, constricting, making it difficult to breathe. Your hands, slick with sweat, struggle to grip the wheel even through your gloves. “Guys ... I don’t ... feel ...” The world spins and your words falters.

“Y/N? Y/N, talk to me!”

But before you can respond, before you can even finish your sentence, the world tilts and blurs into an incomprehensible whirlwind. The sweltering heat, the relentless pursuit of victory, and the weight of expectation converge into a maelstrom that engulfs you entirely.

Your hands, once deftly steering the RB19, now hang limply by your sides. The car veers off the track, careening towards the barriers. Panic rises in you but it’s too late. Your body refuses to act.

The deafening sound of metal against metal fills your ears, followed by the nauseating sensation of impact. The world outside your cockpit twists and spins, a kaleidoscope of colors and chaos. Then, abruptly, it all goes dark.

In the garage, your team watches in horror as the monitors show the violent crash. The radio falls silent, the connection severed. In that heartbeat, the world goes eerily quiet, punctuated only by the distant echoes of screeching tires and the blaring alarms.

Moments pass like hours and finally the static on the radio clears, replaced by your frantic race engineer, “—please respond. Y/N? Are you okay?”

But there’s no response. Your world remains shrouded in darkness as the circuit comes to a standstill, gripped by an eerie silence that drowns out even the most deafening of cheers.

The track is plunged into chaos. Red flags wave fervently, signaling danger. Marshals rush towards your wrecked car, their fluorescent jackets contrasting brightly against the night.

“Get her out! Get her out!” One of the marshals shouts as they reach your car. Your limp form is carefully extracted and they begin immediate first aid. The severity of the situation is clear — the heat, the dehydration, it’s all taken its toll.

The crowd watches, a collective gasp filling the air soon replaced by a thick, heavy silence. As your unconscious form is stretchered away, the weight of all those warnings crashes down.

Back on the pit wall, four words whispered into the radio are the first of many about to turn your boyfriend’s world upside down.

“Safety car, safety car.”

***

“Max, we’re pitting this lap. Box, box,” the calm, steady voice of Gianpiero Lambiase, Max’s race engineer, instructs over the radio.

Max’s voice is curt, his mind still on the race. “Why? Tires feel fine.”

“Non-negotiable. Safety car is out. We need you to pit now.”

The urgency in GP’s voice is not lost on Max and he immediately senses that something is wrong. “What happened? Why is there a safety car?”

Silence follows for a heartbeat too long. “There was an incident. Just focus on your race.”

An icy dread seeps into Max’s bones. The circuit is massive yet his world feels terribly small at this moment. “Who was it? Who crashed?”

His engineer hesitates, and in that pause, the weight of a thousand possibilities presses on Max.

“Who. Was. It?”

GP wavers, “It’s … Y/N.”

Max’s breathing becomes ragged. Panic and fear flood his system. “Why the hell wasn’t I told immediately?”

“It was team orders. The decision was made to keep you focused on the race.”

Max laughs but it lacks any humor. “Team orders? You’re saying Christian decided not to tell me that Y/N ... my Y/N is hurt?”

“Yes,” the reply is uncharacteristically soft, “It was believed to be in everyone’s best interest for you to be fully focused on the race.”

Max has never felt such white-hot rage. He spits into the radio, seething with fury and pain. “You tell Christian that if he ever makes a decision like that again about someone I love, I’ll cut his balls off with a rusty spoon.”

“Max, I understand you’re upset. But right now, we need you to stay focused.”

Stay focused? When the love of his life is in potential danger? The weight of what that means presses down, threatening to crush him. “I need to see her,” he finally rasps out, voice breaking.

The plea hangs in the air, met by another long silence. Finally, the radio clicks on again, softer than ever. “Y/N would want you to finish. You know that. Win this for her.��

Tears blur Max’s vision, mixing with the sweat already pooling in his helmet, but he nods, a silent assent. The roaring engine now sounds distant, the glinting lights a backdrop to the storm that rages within him. Every second is an eternity, every turn a test of his resolve to keep racing. But Max drives on, pushing his limits for you.

Every fiber of his being silently screams your name, a prayer or a promise or both, Max doesn’t know. All he knows is that the faster he crosses the finish line, the sooner he can be with you.

For the world watching, the race continues, cars whizzing by. But for Max Verstappen, each lap, each second, is a race against his own heart, torn between duty and desperate love.

***

“Her pulse is erratic! Get the defibrillator ready!” A medic shouts as the emergency team frantically works around you, the ambulance parked haphazardly nearby.

Another voice, calmer but filled with urgency, counters, “Wait, give her a moment. She might come around.”

“Come on, Y/N,” A young medic mutters, pressing an oxygen mask to your face. “Don’t do this.”

The ambulance door opens again, the head medic speaking into a radio, “We need an airlift, now. The situation’s deteriorating rapidly.”

Another voice, muffled, replies, “The helicopter’s on its way! Clear the area.”

As the medics continue to administer aid, working desperately to stabilize you, the chief medic tries to maintain order, “Every second counts. This heat stroke is severe, coupled with dehydration ... it’s a nightmare scenario.”

“We should have had more cooling stations,” the younger medic mutters. “The humidity coupled with the heat ... it’s brutal tonight. And we’re not even the ones out there driving.”

The older medic takes a deep breath. “That is on the organizations. We can’t fix there mistakes but we can focus on what happening now and do everything we can to get her through this.”

The thrum of helicopter blades soon overwhelms the noise of the circuit, growing louder as it approaches. Soon, the bright light from its landing spotlight punctuates the night. “The helicopter’s here!” Someone shouts.

“Alright, team, on three,” the chief medic commands. They work in perfect sync, lifting you carefully but quickly, your body still unresponsive.

As they approach the helicopter, the pilot shouts over the roar, “We’ve got the best onboard. She’s in good hands.”

“She’s one of our best,” the younger medic shouts back. “She has to be okay.”

The chief medic, securing you inside, murmurs more to himself than anyone else, “Come on, Y/N. The race isn’t over. Keep fighting.”

***

“You expect me to smile and stand on that podium knowing she’s been airlifted to a hospital?” Max’s voice trembles with rage as he confronts the FIA officials blocking his way.

“Mr. Verstappen, there are rules, procedures,” an official replies stiffly.

“Rules? Y/N might be fighting for her life right now and you want to talk to me about rules?” Max’s hands clench and unclench as he physically holds himself back from throwing a punch.

Another official steps forward, trying to mediate, “Max, we understand your feelings but millions of viewers are watching. The podium is an essential part of the race.”

Max’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I care about a trophy when my girlfriend is in a hospital? Do you really think that piece of metal means anything to me right now?”

“We sympathize— ” the first official begins but is cut off by Max’s heated response.

“You sympathize? Do you even know what that word means?” He’s on the verge of breaking, voice barely above a whisper as he continues, “She is everything to me. Everything. And you want me to smile and wave for the cameras?”

The air grows thick with tension. The two drivers from McLaren waiting for their cue to go to the podium are silent, their eyes darting between Max and the officials.

A new voice interjects , “Let him go.”

It’s Lewis Hamilton, who despite DNFing early in the race, made his way across the paddock after seeing the distress on his rival’s face. “There are things more important than a ceremony.”

The officials exchange glances, clearly not expecting this intervention. But before they can reply, Max levels them with a final scathing look. “Fine me if you must! Penalize me! Suspend me for all I care! But I am going to her.”

And off he goes.

***

A nurse at the desk recognizes Max immediately when he runs into the hospital. “Mr. Verstappen,” she begins hesitantly, “Miss Y/L/N is in the ICU. Room 302.”

He doesn’t need any further prompting to sprint down the hall. Reaching the room, he stops dead in his tracks. You’re there, surrounded by machines that beep and whirr, tubes running to and from you, an oxygen mask on your face. The sight of you, once so full of life, now frail and vulnerable, breaks him.

His voice, when he finally managed to finds it, is a choked whisper, “Y/N ...”

Approaching the bedside, Max gently takes your hand, feeling its clamminess. “Hey, liefje ... it’s me,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. His tears fall freely, wetting the back of your hand.

“Come on, love,” his voice cracks as he continues, “You’ve got to pull through this. For us.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, tracing the familiar curves and lines he’s come to adore. “Remember that time in Monaco? When we snuck out for that secret dinner that our trainers would have killed us for? We promised each other forever that night. You can’t leave me now. Not when we’ve got so many more memories left to make.”

The room’s silence is punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor in a cruel reminder of the fragility of the moment.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs. “Please ... please come back to me.”

Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours, allowing the weight of his anguish, love, and hope to flow between the two of you in the sterile room.

***

Nothing has changed. The steady beep of the heart monitor still punctuates the silence of the hospital room. Max sits vigilantly at your bedside, his hand gently clasping yours.

It’s been three days since the crash and you still have not woken up. The doctors say your condition is stable but uncertain.

Max leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Morning, liefje. I’m still here. Not going anywhere.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch impossibly gentle as if you might break. In the stark hospital lighting, the dark circles under his eyes are visible. Sleep hasn’t come easy to him, not with you lying here.

A soft knock at the door draws Max’s attention. Hugh pokes his head in hesitantly. “Hey, Max. Any change?”

Max shakes his head, swallowing hard. “Nothing yet. But she’s fighting. I know she is.”

Your race engineer steps further into the room, his expression solemn. “I should have seen the signs earlier. Pushed her to hydrate more. Slowed her pace.” His voice catches, “It was my job to look out for her.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Max says firmly. “Y/N is stubborn. We both know that. She wanted to prove herself.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “It’s what makes her brilliant.”

Hugh pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the bed. For a moment, the two men sit in pensive silence. Then your race engineer speaks again, softer this time. “Has she ... has she responded at all? Squeezed your hand or anything?”

Max clenches his jaw and stares past Hugh at the blank wall. “No. Nothing yet. But I know she can hear me. I tell her about training, the team ... I update her on everything. She’ll want to jump right back in when she wakes up.”

Footsteps approach and a nurse enters, checking the equipment and your vitals. After making some notes on a chart, she offers an encouraging smile. “No change but she seems stable. Just keep talking to her. Familiar voices help.”

After she departs, Hugh leans forward, clasping your still hand. “Hear that, Y/N? You’ve got to wake up. The team needs you. Your fans are all rooting for you. And ...” His voice cracks. “I need my driver back.”

Max looks at him gratefully. “We all need her back.” Reaching out, he gives your race engineer’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Another knock sounds. This time, it’s Christian. His face is etched with guilt and worry. “Max. Any improvement today?”

Max’s expression hardens. He hasn’t forgotten Christian’s decision to withhold news of your crash. But his voice remains even as he responds to the team principal. “Nothing new.”

Christian pulls up a chair next to Hugh. He chooses his next words carefully. “Max, I need to apologize. I made the wrong call that night. You deserved to know immediately about Y/N. My priorities were skewed.” His voice shakes slightly. “Seeing her like this ... I would give anything to go back and change what I did.”

Max studies him for a long moment and some of the hardness leaves his eyes. “I appreciate that. But right now, the past doesn’t matter. All that matters is her getting better.”

Christian nods. Reaching out, he gently smoothes your hair. “You hear that, Y/N? We’re all here for you. Your whole team. Now you need to come back to us.”

A heavy silence settles on the room once more. The three of them remain clustered around the bed … keeping vigil … willing you to show any small sign of recovery.

After some time passes, the ringing of Hugh’s phone snaps the three men out of their thoughts. “Sorry to interrupt,” your press officer’s voice filters through the speaker, “but the team’s on the line. They want to send their well wishes to Y/N.”

Hugh glances at Max questioningly who nods, “Patch them through. Let the whole team remind her why she needs to wake up.”

A smile tugs at your race engineer’s lips. “You got it. Go ahead, team. She can hear you.”

A chorus of voices floods the room. Your mechanics, pit crew, strategists, PR team … everyone chimes in with encouraging messages.

“Come on, Y/N! We need our star girl back on the grid.”

“You can do this, kid. You’re the toughest one out there!”

“We all believe in you. Keep fighting!”

Max grips your hand tighter, emotions threatening to spill over. Even Christian and Hugh have sheens of tears in their eyes.

“Alright,” your race engineer says after the team signs off. “You heard them. Time to wake up.”

And that’s when Max feels it. A short, weak squeeze of his hand.

Then your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Y/N?” Max leaps to his feet, leaning over you anxiously. “Can you hear me?”

Slowly, painfully, your eyes open, taking in the scene around you. Confusion clouds your expression. “M-Max?” You rasp.

A brilliant smile breaks across Max’s face. Relief floods through him so powerful that his knees nearly buckle as he chokes out, “Yes, yes it’s me! You’re back, liefje. You’re really back.”

Hugh lets out a shaky laugh, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Welcome back, superstar.”

You try to speak again but Max hushes you gently. “Save your strength. We’ve got all the time in the world to talk.”

Christian grins, looking years younger. “Oh thank god. I need to tell the team. They’ll be thrilled. Welcome back, Y/N.” He hurries from the room, phone already in hand.

Your race engineer squeezes your shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll all be here when you wake up.”

As he and the nurse move discreetly out of the room, you gaze up at Max. “You ... you stayed.”

Max lifts your hand to his lips, blinking back tears. “Of course I stayed. I’ll always stay by your side.”

He leans down, pressing his lips against your chapped ones. All the fear, the uncertainty, the heartache of the past few days melts away.

You’re back. You’re really back. And Max knows, without a shred of doubt, that your lives from this day on will be greater and more meaningful than all your wildest dreams.

***

In the following days, drivers from across the grid make the pilgrimage to your hospital room. They come bearing gifts — flowers, balloons, even a nearly life-size plush race car. But more importantly, they come bearing a message.

“That race should never have happened,” Lewis says solemnly, handing you a get-well card covered in signatures. “The heat was dangerous. We should have acted sooner.”

Esteban grips your hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We should have spoken up about the conditions sooner. We all suffered but you suffered most.”

“Your crash woke us all up,” Lance adds. “No trophy is worth risking drivers’ safety even more than we already do each race.”

You’re moved by their solidarity but sigh knowingly. “The FIA would never have listened to just one driver saying something. But maybe they’ll listen to all of us.”

Max’s jaw clenches, residual anger simmering beneath the surface. “They have to listen. We won’t race in unsafe conditions again.”

The other drivers nod, They know the power that you all wield together and for the first time in a long time, you are going to use it.

In a show of outspoken unity, the GPDA drafts a strongly worded letter condemning the lack of caution around extreme heat and demanding tangible changes to make sure drivers aren’t put in avoidable jeopardy.

All twenty of you threaten to strike.

To your surprise, the FIA not only apologizes for the oversight but pledges to implement the requested changes immediately.

“Your crash was a wake-up call,” the FIA president says solemnly during a visit to your hospital room. “We should have protected you better. That will never happen again.”

When he departs, you let out a long breath, leaning back against the pillows. The anger and hurt from that night haven’t disappeared entirely but you feel a sense of hope, that some good has come from the experience.

Max clasps your hand between both of his. “What you went through is unacceptable but you used that to make the sport safer for every driver out there. I’m so proud of you.”

You give him a tired smile. “We did this together. All of us.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest. When you’re better, we’ve got plenty more checkered flags to take. Side by side.”

The long road to full recovery still lies ahead. But with Max by your side, and all the drivers behind you, you know everything will be okay.

The race goes on but it will be a safer race thanks to you.

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midnightarcheress · 1 month

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cowgirl

a little bar challenge characters: simon 'ghost' riley, john 'soap' mactavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick, john price cw: nsfw, fem!reader, tf141 lusting for their teammate, idk there's nothing much

"i'm not going on that!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms at the man in front of you.

the buzzing of a bar after a successful mission was a familiar sound for the task force. the glasses clinking, the chatter of old and new friends, the horrible background music, and the abhorrent pick-up lines would, weirdly enough, calm your nerves after days covered in heavy gear and harboring pent-up stress. or maybe the source of your mind's serenity was just the alcohol already flowing on your bloodstream, courtesy of the three tequila shots you were - willingly - forced into drinking.

"come on, bonnie, it will be fun!" Soap said, pointing at the sign propped above the mechanical bull, "besides, ye can win the hat for us."

you scoffed, glancing at the direction the scot referred, right after seeing another contender fall to the bouncy mat under the bull, followed by a string of boo's from the watchful horde. bold red lettering stated 'break the bar's record and win a cowboy hat!', tempting drunk custumers into fooling themselves for a measly prize.

"i bet she's scared," Gaz prompted, adding fuel to Johnny's pleas, "don't wanna be mocked by the crowd."

you rolled your eyes in response, "i'm not scared, Gaz, i just don't see what all the fuss is about. why don't you do it?"

"nuh-uh, don't turn this on me, missy. you're the one being challenged here," he retorted, earning a soundful hum from Soap, "tell you this, if you manage to stay there for a full minute, i'll pay you a twenty. don't even have to stand the whole three minutes of the record."

Ghost and Price stayed quiet during the whole exchange, unimpressed by the trio's shenanigans. they had endured too many drinking competitions, bets, dares, arguments and blatantly stupid ideas coming from the youngsters of the squad over the years, so nothing fazed the two superiors. underneath their apathy, however, lied a real sense of entertainment, illustrated by discreet smirks after particularly dumb comments - usually dropped by Soap's mouth.

"make it a fifty and we have a deal." you smirked, sipping from your beer pint. if you were gonna humiliate yourself in public, it better be for real cash.

"fifty if you break the record, how does that sound?"

after a second of pondering and a few too many glances at the machine's movements, studying it meticulously to engrave how to properly react when the controller jolts the apparatus from side to side, you uttered a hesitant yes, winning a cheerful chant from your friends and some whistles from the audience.

you stepped on the mat and quickly hopped on the mechanical bull, adjusting your legs around the fake saddle. it shouldn't be that hard, right? the initial movements were easy - just holding on the chord and letting the laws of motion do the work. you didn't want to admit, but it was actually pretty fun.

eventually, the controller decided he was being too gentle and started picking up the pace, making your body rock back and forth on bull, decision that knocked the air out of your lungs for a split second, before you composed yourself and tightened your grip on the handles like your life depended on it. the crowd shouted gleefully, encouraging you to push through, despite a few snarky comments preying on your fall, just the expected.

what you didn't expect - and neither realized - was the way your teammates were reacting.

Gaz stood there with his jaw almost reaching the floor, being impressed not only by your sturdy grip, but mostly by the way your back arched when the machine tilted forward, defining your muscles through the skin-tight fabric of your shirt. even if you didn't endure the whole minute from the initial bet, he was willing to give you his entire wallet, just to watch you ride it again, and definitely not to imagine you bouncing on his lap for a little longer.

Soap, who has always been aware of your beauty, suddenly had to sit down after feeling his pants tighten at the sight of your plump ass jiggling due the repeated impacts on the bull's back, in desperate attempts to grind yourself. in addition, the tiniest bit of your lacy underwear peeking out of the dark jeans that hugged your hips flawlessly wasn't helping with his situation.

the daring smile that painted your lips, juxtaposing the concentrated frown of your eyes as you tried your best to not fall during an exceptionally wild movement, only supplied Ghost's cock with an overflow of blood, twitching at the view of your plush thighs clenching around the bucking machine whenever it defied your determination by leaning too much on the sides, shaking to make you collapse on the mat.

Price, however, acted as gentleman the whole time, just admiring your ability and strength to stay clutched to the unpredictable machinery. that, of course, was only until he got a view of your perfectly round tits, taunting the edges of your low-cut top and threatening to spill out at any given minute, ready to give him a real show. the adrenaline-filled flush that gave your cheeks an innocent pink hue, felt very similar to the sudden rush on his shaft that made your captain almost choke on his scotch.

three minutes and forty-seven seconds.

"that was so much fun!" your giggly shout and stumbling figure getting closer to the group was enough to snap the men out of their trance. they quickly took notice of your wide grin and the brown cowboy hat placed on your head, followed by the loud screaming of the public that just witnessed the bar's record being broken.

"come on, pay up, Gaz." you said, sticking your palm to receive your well deserved money in a contained victory dance.

the four men glanced at each other, gathering the courage to speak up after your little performance that had them weak on the knees for a colleague.

"didn't think you had it in ye, bonnie." Soap stated as Gaz reached for the wallet in his back pocket, almost considering giving you a fat tip for the spectacle. the sergeants were certainly doing a poor job in hiding the blush on their cheeks and small beads of sweat on their foreheads, consequence of trying to ignore the tent formed on their trousers.

your superiors, on the contrary, remained quiet and seemingly undisturbed by the previous scene, silently sipping from their glasses but still watching the chatting trio. only now, they wouldn't dare to get up and risk the others - specifically you - noticing their throbbing cocks marking their pants, yearning for the touch of your silky flesh.

after collecting your gains, you rapidly swayed to the bar counter, ordering a new drink with your sweet, sweet money, while the task force members ultimately etched the sight of you riding the mechanical bull in the deepest corner of their brains - saving the images for the great release when you all get back to base.

okay this is my first official thingy i feel so silly. also english is not my first language so...

#cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #tf141 #tf141 x reader #ghost cod #soap cod #gaz cod #fem!reader #cod mw #cod mw2 #oneshot #nyx writes ☾#midnightarcheress

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 4 months

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Be Careful What You Wish For (Say Less series) - LN

Summary: Y/n and Lando have never really got along. So when y/n tells Lando on Thursday that she'd be more likely to suck his dick than him stand on the podium at Silverstone. He decides to make things interesting with that and teach her a lesson to never underestimate him.

Side-pairing: Brother! Danny Ric, friend!Oscar and Reader is 22.

Themes: Smut, blowjob (headpushing), power dynamics, dom!Lando (he's not really soft dom in this one), unprotected sex (I don't condone it but...equally), size kink, some degrading(ish?), I'm not going to lie this is either the best or worst smut I've ever written

Edit: This is officially a new series, part 2 here

Daniel never really understood why is sister disliked his teammate so much when he moved to McLaren. If she had've been a more important person than he's sure Netflix would've bothered themselves to invest air time on the two not really liking each other.

Y/n has always been close to Max and with him having grown quite a friendship with Lando since the Brit moved to Monaco with many other drivers. She has found herself in his company more. Especially when him and Daniel were teammates.

While she hated the treatment of her older brother in McLaren, she didn't want him to be kicked off the grid and lose his seat. But even now with him as the reserve for Red Bull. She finds herself invited to races by Christian directly since he knows Daniel loves having his little sister there as much as possible.

She has befriended Oscar, but somehow she can't find herself alone with him for long when Lando appears looking rather smug to have found y/n.

"I didn't know you'd be here." Lando comments making her roll her eyes, and the attitude from both of them has Oscar retreating away from them since he will do anything to avoid any side taking between his teammate and the young woman who he considers a friend. He'd already been warned by Daniel that if the two catch each other, it's better to let them hash it out without anyone else trying to step in. "Ready to see me take the podium?"

"Lando, I'm more likely to suck your dick every day for the next year than you take a podium in that tractor." Y/n smirks crossing her eyes while seeing something spark behind Lando's green eyes.

"Is that so?" Lando questions with his tone dropping as he steps closer. "I don't even think you could handle it, y/n."

Y/n scoffs rolling her eyes.

"Just to be clear, my point is that you have no chance at a podium. Just like you have no chance of me ever touching what I'm sure is a very underwhelming dick." Y/n smiles then patting his shoulder, going to pass him only for him to abruptly stop her with his large hand on her bicep.

"Well...if I do get a podium. How about we see just how underwhelming you think my dick is in your mouth then?" Lando questions but she realises very quickly when she snaps her head to look at him. It wasn't really a question. It was a consequence of her actions.

Don't tempt a man by talking about sucking his dick then insult him when there's unresolved tension between you unless you intend to follow through on giving him what you've teased.

Trying to keep her confidence she laughs brushing his hand from her arm.

"Lando, if you get on the podium. I'll let you have me however you want me." Y/n smiles then shooting him a mocking smile. "But let's be realistic. Just like that podium. I'm completely beyond your reach and capabilities."

Y/n spending the weekend realising her cockiness and attitude about Lando is not working out in her favour. She even thinks for the few laps that Lando led, he might've not only taken a podium but the race win with it.

That didn't happen since Max, on brand for himself right now, took the lead back. But Lando was chasing him for a while, still fighting for that position till finally Max pulled away from DRS and Lando sort of settled into P2 for the rest of the race.

"Fucking hell." Y/n groans before deciding she needs to make a quick exit when the race is finished because she'll cut out her own tongue with safety scissors before she sucks that man's dick.

Plus she knows he'd only demand she follow through on it because he'd get a power trip.

"Come on, y/n. Gotta celebrate for little Maxie." Daniel smiles clamping his hands-on her shoulder.

"Oh, I'm just going to stay here. I don't feel great." Y/n lies making Daniel frown and offer to stay with her but she shoos him off not wanting him to miss being with the team.

Y/n stays tucked away in there hoping to wait till everyone is clearing out after the trophies are handed out.

She knows the teams all debrief so she uses that time to get the fuck out of there and by some miracle she makes it. Lando doesn't catch her and no one manages to stop her on the way out. Instead she gets to the hotel and washes away the shame of knowing that she will have to dodge races because she's certain that Lando will catch her and assure her that she owes him.

With Daniel breaking his wrist, y/n didn't attend races and while she was upset for her brother. Not seeing Lando from Silverstone all the way through to COTA. She feels like he has to have forgotten their little interaction.

He's had more podiums since then and she is beginning to feel like he has to have forgotten. There's no way he'd bother himself to remember. She's certain he's celebrated with a few women so no doubt he doesn't need her on that list.

"How does it feel to be home?" Y/n asks as she walks with Daniel through the COTA paddock.

She's so happy he's back and healed in time for his favourite track. The only thing that would've been worse than him missing COTA is him missing Las Vegas when he spent years requesting it.

"I love it. Even better with you here, I think Max and Christian have missed you." Daniel laughs making her smile at him brightly. "What are you going to do while I'm busy?"

"I don't know. Probably just look around. Might go find Max and Christian." For protection from potentially being cornered by Lando.

"Ok. Well I'll see you later, stay out of trouble."

"I always do." Y/n smiles before her brother kisses her cheek and disappears.

Y/n and Daniel having such a large age gap means that the usual sibling shenanigans of causing trouble together never really happened. Daniel was just always protective of her and wanted to bring her everywhere, y/n on the other hand just adored her brother endlessly and wanted to go with him everywhere. It never really changed as they got older, even in her grumpy teen years she never hated spending time with Daniel.

Going to the Red Bull garage, neither Christian nor Max are there and since Daniel is now technically AlphaTauri she doesn't want to just walk into Red Bull's unit like she owns the place.

She ends up trying to find a place to hide that she won't be bothered. But instead as she pauses to look at her phone and find a song that she likes, she is suddenly grabbed and pulled forward making her jump and stumble from the sudden involuntary movement.

"Ow-oh fuck." Y/n gasps realising who it is a little too late as she's pulled into the McLaren unit. She definitely doesn't belong here anymore. "Lando."

"I suggest you be quiet." Lando instructs before managing to get her up to his driver's room where she finds herself in a closed space with nowhere to hide from his gaze. "Have you been avoiding me?"

Y/n's face is about ready to set on fire, but she can't tell if it's because she got caught or because seeing his smug expression makes her want to slap him.

"Don't flatter yourself, Lando. My brother broke his wrist. Why would I be here if he's not driving for me to support him?" Y/n questions in a scoff only to swallow thickly when his hand comes up, his thumb catching her bottom lip and dragging it downwards.

"Do you really want me to say why?" Lando hums then sighing as he moves around her, sitting down on a seat as her eyes follow him. "You owe me."

"I owe you?" She scoffs as if she doesn't know exactly what she owes him despite it all being his idea, his suggestion and his choice. He set the rules and she's just following because he's got that effect on her and he knows it. Whether he knew he'd have this effect before Silverstone she doesn't know, but it's fairly obvious what the outcome is going to be.

Lando's face is stern and she has to swallow before tossing her bag down then moving and dropping to her knees in front of him. She hates the smirk irks her but she undoes his jeans and pulls him out. Quickly wishing she'd never made the comment about his size being underwhelming because she's certain she can't fit him all in her mouth.

Nerves knot her stomach over whether she's really going to suck his dick.

"Y/n." Lando calls sternly snapping her back from her thoughts before she leans forward and takes the first third of his length in her mouth feeling him gather her hair in a fisted hand and begin to guide her.

She closes her eyes trying to pretend that this isn't enjoyable despite her knowing her thighs want to press together. A bad day to wear a skirt but COTA is quite a hot place.

"Fucking hell, finally found a good use for your mouth." Lando groans while she feels him hit the back of her throat, but he pushes further now completely controlling the depth into her throat and the pace. "Fuck, y/n."

Lando gets rougher and harder till he finally pulls her up and she coughs finally being able to catch her breath.

"You going to let me get in that pussy?" Lando questions making her look up at him for a moment, her blood racing through her veins before she takes his offered hand. "You look a bit messy there, y/n. Tap out if you can't handle it."

"I can handle you." Not that her voice seems to convince him in the slightest since there isn't a drop of confidence in her tone.

"I think you wore this skirt on purpose because you knew exactly how easy it'd be for me." Lando states as he turns her around and pulls her to his lap, the position of feeling his hard dick, still wet from her saliva, sitting pressed against her own wet panties. "How bad do you want it?"

Y/n's voice catches in her throat, the sheer level of neediness nearly overwhelming her.

"Beg for it."

There's no way in hell.

"Please."

Ok.

Well that wasn't what she was trying to say when she opened her mouth.

He lifts her enough to reach to pull her panties to the side and practically slams her down on him. The sting of the stretch making a moan pass even with her teeth clamped on her lip.

She can't handle this man. He's too big, she's not at all really ready but he's sitting in fully in her and the feeling is like nothing she's felt before during sex. To say he's the biggest she's had would be an understatement.

He does let her begin to move at her own pace but either he doesn't like the position, despite choosing it, or he just wants wants a change but he lifts her up pulling out and pushing her till she's lying back on the edge of the massage with him holding her legs up as he thrusts back into her.

"Fuck." Y/n whines, but it doesn't stop there since his hand flips her skirt up revealing her lower tummy allowing him to press where he can see the bulge of himself inside of her.

"You feel that? That's me too big inside you so I gotta make the space."

The new pressure combine with the sparks of pain turning to pleasure brings on an orgasm that she didn't think she had built up for. But it strikes through her like lightening, sending buzzes of energy through her body making even her fingers and toes tingle.

Being fucked ruthless through it, Lando hasn't even paused to give her a moment of reprise.

"Come back to me, we're not done." Lando breathes before he moving his hand from her tummy to her clit and y/n feels like a bomb threatening to go off again.

She's never had a man give her an orgasm, as shameful as that is to admit. But she's never even given herself more than one at a time and this man seems to be going for more after the first one.

"Christ, you're so tight." Lando groans as she clenches around him trying to fight off the oversensitivity that is building her to a second orgasm already.

Her body is shaking she feels his other hand move from holding her thigh to her throat, gentle pressure added as he uses his grip on her neck to almost stabilise her and when she feelings her clit just be completely abused. The fight slips from her and a second orgasm washes over her in a burning wave that almost feels like his touch is in her every nerve ending.

She's almost thankful when she feels him somehow get more aggressive before a few sloppy thrusts with him pulsing in her as she feels everything spill into her. Feeling the abused space with his cum like his intend was to get her pregnant.

Morning after pill will be needed on this occasion.

"You leave that in there." Lando instructs before pulling out and moving away to quickly clean his own dick and tuck it away. He moves to help her, looking almost concerned that she's not really moved and is just breathing heavily while staring at the ceiling. "Are you ok?"

She feels him push her panties back into place and flip her skirt down before going to help her sit up.

"No. I just need a second. I think I just...I don't really know what just happened." Y/n murmurs seeing him smirk out the corner of her eye.

"I'll get you some water."

After a good 15 minutes of sitting up just to drink water and feeling the remittance of Lando slowly start to leak out into her underwear.

"By the way, you owe me all this and more again." Lando smirks while she looks at the ground unsure if she can even stand up. She's not even sure she can feel her legs right now. "Y/n. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Y/n has never been so obedient and responsive to a man in her life, but Lando seems to have some sort of power over her than he's all too happy to use to his advantage when it comes to speaking to her.

"Good." Lando smiles making her nod before he pats her thigh. "I'll walk you out."

"Wait, but...it's going to leak out." Y/n mumbles almost feeling like a completely inexperienced moron for saying it.

"I know. Don't you dare try to Stop it. I want to see all that evidence later when I see you." Lando demands making her swallow thickly. "Ok?"

"Ok." Y/n nods before she accepts his hands in standing up though she still feels a little unsteady and the change of position is making gravity work much more quickly with everything feeling like it's rushing out of her like a waterfall of bodily fluids.

"I'll see you after FP1."

"Do you want me to come to you?"

"I'll find you, don't worry."

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lqvesoph · 5 months

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Everything you need - LN4

gif by @transgp

landonorris x horner!reader

summary: your heart stopped when you saw your boyfriend crashing out of the las vegas gp but you were more than happy to stay by his side through all the hospital stuff that followed

warnings: crash, mention of pregnancy

masterlist | taglist

"What was that?", you furrowed your brows. "What was what?", your mum asked, eyes still focused on the screen. "The camera, it looked like-", you stopped talking when the camera cut to a car in the barriers, dust all around it.

Your initial reaction was to look at the name board, to see whose name would drop down the order, to tell you which driver you were currently looking at. And your heart stopped when you saw the driver with the letters NOR dropping on the board.

You obviously were more than aware of the risks of racing, especially in street courses like this one. You basically grew up on track with your father but you never usually let yourself even think of the possibility that your boyfriend could have a big crash some day. You were scared to even imagine it, because the simple idea of losing him hurt too much for you to handle.

Your hand went up to your mouth, the fear clearly visible in your eyes, the other hand found its way to your stomach where your little 8 week old wonder was. The screen showed Lando’s dad with the same worried expression on his face before cutting to you.

"Mummy, what’s happening?", your two and a half year old daughter asked and tugged on the sleeve of your jacket.

You tried to look at your dad on the pitwall, watching as he clicked on Lando’s onboard and then lifted his thumb.

Your mum shook her heard, making your father stand up and walk across the pitlane to you.

He squeezed your arm to get you to look to him. "He’s moving, darling. He’s okay, he was on the radio and said he’s okay", he tried to calm you down but the tears were still brimming in the corner of your eyes.

"I have to see him", you muttered, pressing your daughter Amelia closer to you. The girl whose eyes looked like an exact replica of Lando’s looked up to you. You could see how worried she was getting from seeing that you weren’t ok.

"They are taking him to the medical center, love, you won’t be allowed in", Christian tried to sooth you but it wasn’t working. "I have a child with him, they will let me in and I don’t care if not, I have to see him!", you spoke and stood up, still with Amelia pressed to you.

"Do you want me to take her?", Geri asked but you immediately shook your head. "No, I need her with me", you mumbled and hurried through the Red Bull garage and down the paddock to the Mclaren one on wobbly legs. Cisca was the first person to catch you and immediately came over to wrap you into a hug.

"Is he okay?", you asked, your voice breaking while your lips quivered. Amilia clung to your jacket, burying her head in the crook of your neck. "He said he is but his voice told a different story", she said, holding you tight.

You looked over at Adam and Will, both studying the screen in front of them closely. You looked at your daughter. "Baby, look, grandma is here. Do you want to go to grandma for a second?", you talked to her in a soothing voice.

Amelia shook her head slightly. "Stay with you, Mummy", she muttered and snuggled closer. You nodded and walked over to Lando’s dad and engineer. Adam’s eyes softened when he saw you and his grandchild and wrapped an arm around you immediately.

"Can I hear his radio?", you asked quietly. Will hesitated a second but gave you his headphones before replying Lando’s crash.

Your heart broke when you heard his shaky voice and heavy breaths, the tears spilling out of your eyes. You put the orange headphones down again and leaned your head against Adam’s shoulder.

"Shhh, he’s okay. He’s alive and walking which is the most important thing", Adam whispered and pressed a light kiss to your hair.

"Y/n, Lando’s asking for you", you heard a voice behind you. One of the engineers looked at you, scratching the back of his head. "There’s some medical guy outside who wanted me to get you."

You brushed your tears away with the sleeves of the Red Bull jacket you were wearing and nodded.

You grabbed Lando’s Mclaren cap from the pult he always throws his stuff on before racing and put it on your head, pulling the front further down to keep your face hidden from photographers.

Cisca, Adam and you followed the medical person to the medical center. "Where are we going, mummy?", your daughter asked, slight fear in her voice because she didn’t know what’s going on. "We’re going to see daddy, okay?", you muttered. "Isn’t daddy racing?", she replied with a frown.

"You actually are not allowed inside the medical center but he keeps asking for you and won’t hold still so we thought it might be better to make an exception. Third door on the left", the medical guy told you when you arrived. You thanked him and handed Amelia to Cisca before hurrying down the hallway, opening the door without even thinking of knocking.

Lando sat on a stretcher, race suit hanging from his hips, the top of the fireproof next to him and his hair a mess from the helmet he was wearing only a couple of minutes before.

"Baby", he spoke, his voice sore and breaking at the end. He looked groggy and out of it.

The doctor looked up from inspecting Lando’s wrist and was visibly ready to scold you for intruding the room like that but you didn’t even acknowledge him.

Your full focus was on Lando and you hugged him tight, bringing your hands up to his curls and breathing in his familiar scent.

"Thank God", you muttered and pressed him a bit tighter. "I’m sorry for scaring you", he mumbled.

"Ma’am, I am sorry but you are not allowed in here", the doctor cleared his voice and dropped Lando’s wrist. You pulled back from Lando but before you could say anything, he spoke up.

"No, no, it’s okay. I need her here!"

He grabbed your hand and brought the other to your small bump. "Can’t have you and little me in there worrying too much", he slurred, making you gently hit the back of his head. "Hey hey hey, carful there! I’ve just been in a car crash", he joked and pinched your side.

His eyes fluttered and he put his head against your chest. "Did you give him any pain meds?", you wanted to know, brushing your fingers through his hair.

"No, just something to calm him down as he wouldn’t hold still and kept turning away", the doctor told you. "Yeah because you said she can’t come!", Lando argued like a little kid, making you chuckle. "Somehow she still found her way in here", the doctor eyed you skeptical but you didn’t let it bother you.

Your complete focus was on Lando being ok after the crash, on having him inside your arms.

"From what I can tell, he hasn’t broken any bones, just some heavy bruises but I will transfer him to the University medical center for further check ups. They will do a CT scan and probably an ultrasound of his right leg. They will also give him pain medication as I am not allowed to decide that", he gave you a quick run of what would happen next.

You simply nodded and pulled Lando a bit closer. "The ambulance should be here any second."

"Come on up, we gotta get you to the ambulance and your parents and Amelia are in the hallway", you tapped the back of his head with your fingers to get him to sit up.

Lando slid down from the stretcher and reached for his fireproof. "They will probably check your vitals and put stickers on your chest so it’s not necessary to put this one back on", the doctor told him.

"But it’s cold", Lando almost whined which made you chuckle. "I can give you my Red Bull jacket", you teased him, wrapping one arm around his waist to keep him up steady.

You followed the doctor and exited the room. You noticed Lando limping a little but swallowed down your worry until the hospital doctors could confirm to you what’s wrong.

"Daddy!", Amelia called when she spotted the two of you. She wanted to wriggle out of her grandma’s arms but Cisca held her securely and waited until you reached them.

"Hey, princess", Lando smiled, caressing the top of her head and leaning down to press a kiss to her hair. Adam put a hand on Lando’s upper arm and squeezed it comfortingly.

"They are taking him to the hospital for further check ups", you told them and nodded towards the exit. "Ambulance is there."

You greeted the paramedics and let them bring Lando inside, watching as they strapped him on a gurney and just like the doctor had told you earlier, put on some stickers with cables.

"Can I ride with him, please?", you asked the man who was about to close the door. "Are you family, miss?", he asked sternly. "I’m his girlfriend and the mother of his child", you said, pointing at Amelia behind you.

"Sorry, miss. Family only!", he said but got interrupted by Lando calling out for you. "Can you get Y/n? I need her here, please!"

You raised an eyebrow and the guy sighed before nodding inside the ambulance. You thanked him and then turned around to face Lando’s parents. "Can you take Amelia with you?", you asked and Cisca nodded immediately.

You smiled thankfully and turned around to sit next to Lando, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly as the medics put more stickers to his chest.

"I was so worried about you", you mutter and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles. "I’m okay, look at that", Lando said and pointed to the screen monitoring his heartbeat. "It looks like hills, wow", he stunned, making you and the paramedic who had just gave him an injection of provably pain meds, chuckle.

*~*~*~*~*~*

After Lando’s labs came back clear, you felt a lot better knowing that he was actually fine. He still sat on the hospital bed, shirtless and his racing suit covering the lower half of his body.

The pain meds he was given earlier however were still working full time.

"Babyyy!", he called for you and made grabby hands in your direction. You chuckled and handed Amelia to Cisca who stood with her husband by the door.

"How’re you feeling, baby?", you asked with a smile and stroked your fingers through his curls. "I’m GREAT!! How is little me?", he grinned and pointed to your small bump and put his hand over your shirt.

"Wait, you’re pregnant??", Cisca suddenly exclaimed. Lando smiled and nodded eagerly. "Yes with little me this time! Well we don’t know yet but I have a feeling it’s gonna be a boy!", Lando started blabbering and you now only realized that he had given away your little secret while talking to you and put your head on his shoulder.

"You’re unbelievable!", you chuckled, gently slamming your head on his shoulder a couple of times. "Why?", Lando asked confused and looked at you. You simply shook your head and patted his curls a few times.

"Well, this isn’t how we wanted to tell you but… Surprise! You’re gonna be grandparents!", you called awkwardly.

"Oh my god!", Cisca called and hurried over to pull you into a tight hug. Adam patted Lando’s shoulder with a wide smile. "Congrats", he smiled and pulled him in for a side hug. "I can’t believe this, this is awesome!!", Lando’s mum smiled, pressing a kiss to her son’s head.

"Oh yeah, Singapore WAS awesome!", he crackled, smiling like the the proudest person to walk the planet. You gasped audibly and hit his bare stomach. "Lando!!", you scolded.

"Heyy, I’ve been in a car crash, remember?", he joked, still laughing. "I don’t care. You deserved that", you shook your head in disbelief of what he just said.

Amelia started wriggling in Cisca’s arms. "Daddy!", she cranked and stretched her arms out for her father. Cisca smiled and handed Amelia to Lando who put her on his lap.

"Mr. Norris, I’m glad you are up and alright", the doctor spoke but Lando interrupted him. "Just a second, please!"

"Hey, baby", his smile brightened and he pressed Amelia to his naked chest.

The doctor smiled at the interaction and quietly left the room to stand in front of the closed door to give you some privacy.

"What’s up, baby?", Lando smiled when he noticed Amelia’s hands on his left wrist. He looked down to see her playing with the white wristbands the hospital put on him when he was admitted.

"They are cool, right?", he smiled. "It’s like a friendship bracelet!", Lando laughed. "It even says daddy’s name", he showed her the letters on the white bracelet spelling out Lando Norris.

Amelia let out a small laugh, like she always did and everything Lando did.

A content smile made its way on your face. Looking at Lando with your daughter and your one hand on your belly you knew you had everything you needed.

tagged: landonorris

liked by: landonorris, mclaren, redbullracing and 2,289,527 others

yn.horner: a turn of events in vegas…

comments:

landonorris: if your vegas trip doesn’t end in the hospital were you even in vegas🤨

–> yn.horner: Shut up🧡

mclaren: 🧡🙃

oscarpiastri: Where’s my cameo?

–> fan: Oscar is sad his parents forgot about him hahahha

danielricciardo: Brother was higher than the skies on that gurney

–> fan: LMAOOOO DANIEL

–> yn.horner: He did say some very funny stuff

–> landonorris: I did?

fan: Amelia is so sweet

fan: How did Amelia react to Lando’s crash?

–> yn.horner: She didn’t really understand what happened but was really happy to see her daddy even before the race ended☺️

–> fan: Very poor parenting to let a child witness something like this

–> fan: Bro… thats literally his daughter of course she’ll watch him race

fan: So glad to see Lando is okay❤️‍🩹

–> liked by yn.horner

taglist

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @paolexsstuff

#lando norris #f1 #mclaren #ln4 #quadrant #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris angst #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #lando norris x horner!reader

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hellisharchive · 2 months

Note

Heyoooo! You probably know me from messaging you but I wanted to ask if you could write a Vox x Fem!reader where reader just takes care of a really wasted but infatuated Vox?

My Queen

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▏C/TW! ▬ 18+, drunk Vox, jealous reader, fluff fluff fluff, bathing

▏C/TW! ▬ Literally wrote this at 2 am and got done at 3 am, so not beta read <3 TYSM for the request! I hope you enjoy it!. AGAIN HOW THE FUCK DID I ACCIDENTLY POST THIS THIS WAS A DRAFT. I dont like how this turned out tbh

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You and Vox were close, but you wouldn't dare say that you two were dating. You did have a small crush on him and was scared that confessing would ruin your fiendship. Little did you know he also had a crush on you as well, it was just unfortunate he was letting his business and brand take importance over his personal life. You were an honorary Vee and his best friend. Sure, Velvette and Valentino were his friends too, but you always got jealous as you watched Val and Vox act in such a romantic way with each other all the time. You always suspected that they were a thing, and even if they didn't have a label, you respected it. So, you always kept your feelings hidden deep down

. But you did need a break, it got so tiring having to watch and hear them act all cute and making sexual advances from the time to time. You've been ignoring Vox for at least two weeks, probably not the best choice but your emotions got the better of you. But tonight, you decided to get out of the tower and have some fun. You went to a pretty well known nightclub- not owned by Vox, a rare occurrence- to let off some steam. Your goal was to get laid by the end of the night with a convenientially attractive stranger, but life doesn't always work out as you want.

Yet, when Vel called you as you were about to get on the dancefloor with a hot bull, you dropped everything to take care of the television that was drowning his sorrows in alcohol. According to her, he kept talking about how he wished he could tell you something and how beautiful you were. You mulled over it as you walked back through the tower in your fancy nightclub dress just an hour earlier. While on your way there, you came across Velvette who looked very pissed off and scrolling through phone in the main living area of the personal living quarters. When she saw you, she flipped you off and rolled your eyes.

"Fucking finally! Vox has been throwing a hissy fit waiting for his queen to come and shut him up. Fuck you for taking so long, he's called me twenty fucking times asking where you were bevause he forgot he changed your contact info!" That was all she said before growling and walking away, signalling that you were going to handle this yourself like normal. You never let what Vel says get to you, that's just how she normally is. But he changed your contact info? What to? You've calmed down a drunken Vox many times before, but this time seemed bad.

"Vox?" You knock and call out before opening his door to find a very wasted man laying on his couch, hiccuping and looking incredibly sad. He was slumped over with a wine bottle in his hand, no wine glass, and the red liquid was spilled all over himself. Wine? Really? He got drunk on wine out of his entire collection? He's usually a fun drunk, cracking jokes and overall being the most funny in the room from the out of pocket shit he says. So seeing him so down makes you feel guilty for ignoring him. But as soon as he looked at you, his face lit up and a smile immediately popped up. He dropped the glass and stood up, trying to rush up to you. However, because he was so inebriated, he started to stumble, which caused you to rush up and catch him from his shoulders.

"My Queen! Where did you go? I missed you my sweet!" The comment about Vel calling you his "queen" you just passed off as Vel being Vel, but now he was calling that you too? Maybe playing into this fantasy would be best, drunk people are never rational and don't know what they're even saying.

"Well my king, I had a very important meeting with another kingdom to attend to. But you requested my presence immediately!" You spoke matter-of-fact as you navigated him to the bathroom, it was hard already with him being unable to properly walk, but he also kept staring at you, so he stepped over his own feet countless times.

"Hehehe...I like when you call me that. YOUR king. I'm your king! How lucky am I?" He giggled and that made your heart beat faster. How lucky was he? What was he talking about? Maybe this was just his drunk self talking, you knew he didn't feel that way, he absolutely had a thing for Val, not you. Gulping, you finally manage to drag him to the bathroom where you sat him on the toilet. He would be so sticky with all that wine that soaked through his clothes, so you were going to bathe him. Sure, getting him in and out his going to be a challenge, but you still cared for this man a lot and wanted the best for him.

"I'm getting you your pjs, do not move ok?" You started to leave the bathroom when he whined loudly, making a swipe for your wrist but missed as he looked at you with puppy eyes. Due to his television screen head, his facial expressions can get extremely animated, unlike normal sinners. His eyes basically took up his entire screen, only leaving a little bit of space for a pout. The sight made your heart ache.

"Don't leave again my lovely queen! I need to tell you something!" Sighing, you gave him a soft smile and walked back up to him. Picking up his hand, you put your other hand on top of his and gave him the most softest smile you muster..

"It is bedtime, my king, you must be bathed before heading to our bed. You can tell me once we retire" Our bed. Saying it made your heart do flips.

"Oookkk my beautiful queen! Hehehe you're so pretty..." He had a dopey smile as you walked away, heart hammering so loud it should have been echoing in the room. He thought you were pretty? Fuck- why does he made you feel this way? You knew that look too, it was a look of complete love. He certainly couldn't love you though, that has to be impossible. He was with Val, he had to be. Going on autopilot, you gather up his favorite pyjamas and mentally prepare yourself for going back into the flames. When you get back, he was still sitting on the toilet, giggling and staring ahead as he was talking to himself about how in love with him he was.

What?

He was drunk, he was drunk, he was drunk- why couldn't you even entertain the idea of him returning your feelings? Why was it so hard to accept that fact? Taking a deep breath, you walk into the room and he lights up again.

"My queen! Are thou ready to bathe me? You got my favorite pjs! And you have an amazing ass! There's a reason why I married you!" Freezing once again, you ignoring his comment about your ass in luei of the last thing he said. Married...you? Did Vox think you two married each other? The thought made you shiver and face warm with how amazing that sounded. Being officially tied to him forever, waking up with him together, and getting to love him forever. Standing up after finishing setting the dials to the right temperature, you looked at him and now needed to know more.

"And why else did you marry me my dear?" Battting your eyelashes with the most innocent face you could gather, you started to stip him of his clothes. You've seen him naked a handful of times which always made you incredibly flustered, but undressing him? It made you nervous, especially with how he's acting towards you.

"You're the beeeeest, like, THE best! You're so pretty and gorgeous and have SUCH a hot bod! But you're so so sweet and amazing and help me with everything!" Did he...did he actually love you? Was whatever he was doing with Val was nothing? Shakily manging to get him completely undressed, you stood him up to maneuver him into the large tub. Not trusting yourself to say anything more, you gently lay him down in the perfectly warm water and start lathering him up. You also never bathed him before, so your nerves were going to overdrive. He took your silence and silenced himself too, maybe he somehow knew you were really anxious right now. Taking great care in not getting water on his head, you see as his face turned from a happy one, to a somber one.

The rest of the process of getting him out, drying him off, changing into his pjs, and moving him to his bed was deadly quiet. You felt like you would be breaking some unsaid rule. Tucking him into bed, you left a glass of water and painkillers on his nightstand, turning off the big light and turning on the lamp. Sitting down next to his curled up body, you rubbed his back and felt conflicted. He's drunk as balls. He probably won't remember any of this. Getting up and saying goodnight, he yells for you one last time.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I did wrong but I'm sorry. Is it Val? We aren't anything serious. I was too scared to tell you because you're so beautiful and I didn't want you to leave me. I love you" Vox looked down at his lap with a sullen expression. Heart hurting for the countless time today, you gave him a kiss on his screen and turned away with a smile

"Tell me when you're sober"

#vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

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norrisleclercf1 · 8 months

Text

Lando's Replacement

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Rating: G

Words: 765

Requested: Yes/No

Request: Could you do a mini lando new part where Aiden starts karting and lando is nervous about it thanks love your writing

Warnings: None, just fluff

Mini Lando Series

A/N: Aiden is 8, Caleb is 5 and Daniel is 3

"I'm not built for this stress, Y/n," Lando whispers, staring at your son Aiden. You can't help but roll your eyes at your husband. After all the years he spent giving you stress, he's the one who can't handle it? Drama queen.

"Really? Now you know how I've felt for the past 15 years." Lando grimaces as Aiden moves around his new kart, bumping his shoulder with yours, ensuring everything is in order. "Daddy? How do I start it?" Lando gives a wobbly smile to his little boy. Except he's not so little anymore.

At 8 years old, Aiden has fallen in love with karting and has spoken about following in his father's footsteps. "Let me show you." Lando straddles the kart and turns the ignition. The kart rumbles and then sputters to life. "Cool!" Aiden yells, not even waiting for Lando to get out of the way before he pops himself into the seat.

"Mommy, look!" Aiden can't hide his excitement while Lando looks down at the kart with horror. "Can't believe my Dad and Mum allowed me to do this." He whispers, grabbing Aiden's own crash helmet. "Lando, he's going to be fine. All he's doing is learning how to drive it, not racing." Covering your husband's shaky hand.

Lando has always been protective, especially of Aiden. After all the trouble you two went to get pregnant, it was hard on Lando to see his firstborn become a person and one that wanted to join karting. "He's safe. You had McLaren build his helmet and the kart. Plus you oversaw all of it. He's safe." Lando nods, stepping back from the kart as Aiden slides the helmet on.

"Well, looks like Lando has got some competition now." You don't even have to turn to know who it was. "Mommy, what's A doing?" Oscar stands next to you, holding your youngest, Daniel, and the hand of your second, Caleb. "A is learning to drive a kart like Daddy used to." Explaining what Aiden was doing to Caleb was hard sometimes because whatever Aiden was doing, Caleb wanted to do it, too.

"Can I join?" Right on time, smiling, you push his curly hair back. "Not yet, you're far too small. When you're 8 and still want to try it, we can." Oscar chuckles, seeing Aiden zip off. "Aiden! Brakes!" Lando yells. You cover your snort, seeing your husband chase after your laughing son. "He'll have grey hairs when this is over." Oscar adjusts little Daniel on his hip.

"Good, it'll humble his ass. He puts me through hell whenever he drives. He'll finally understand why I'm just as exhausted as him by the end of a race." Caleb giggles, wanting to run after his father, but you hold him close. "Lando has been dreading this. When Aiden first asked him, I thought he'd faint." Oscar smiled at his old teammate, having moved to Red Bull after his 4th season, and was in a tight battle with Lando, Charles, and Max for a WDC.

"Mommy, look how fast I'm going!" Aiden yells, hitting the gas and whipping his head back. You wince seeing it, but the rings of Aiden's laughter ease your worries. "Aiden, please!" Lando yells, stopping before you, gasping for air and sweat lining his forehead. "You're getting old." Oscar quips. Lando looks up, glaring at the Aussie. "I'm not old, just aging. Like fine whiskey." Oscar just rolls his eyes. "Your son is doing donuts." Lando takes off again, leaving Caleb cackling, watching his father.

"Maybe we should get Max or Carlos to teach Aiden?" You ask Oscar, but he shakes his head no. "He might be freaking out, but he's loving this. It's a memory they'll both look on fondly." Aiden laughs at the sound of the engine cut off as Lando scoops his oldest up.

The image of them laughing, Lando lecturing him with no anger as Aiden just giggles. "Yes, Daddy," Aiden says, his little body wobbling as his helmet makes him look like a life-size bobblehead. "Did you have fun?" Aiden nods, your fingers working quickly to get the helmet off. "It was so much fun. Daddy said we can return with Uncle Carlos, Max, and Oscar!" Aiden jumps around.

"I would love that." Oscar bends down, ruffling Aiden's hair. "Yes! With you teaching me, I can replace Daddy at McLaren." He laughs, and Lando's eyes budge out. The thought of Aiden driving in F1 was enough to kill him. "Y/n, this payback, isn't it?" He whispers, you just smirk. "Oh, sweet, sweet revenge, darling." Kissing his cheek.

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multifandomgirl08 · 6 months

Text

Stones To Throw At My Creator [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad! Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: He wasn't his father. He would never raise Nico like that.

Warning(s): Angst, Mention of past trauma caused by a parent, Jos Verstappen (just him, in the second half), Max and Jos have a verbal confrontation

A/N: Title from the song Bother by Stone Sour. This song was on one of my playlists and I couldn't help but think of Max while listening to it. I don't normally tackle heavy issues, but I couldn't get the idea of Max wanting to comment about his father's parenting now that he is going to be a parent (again). Totally me rambling but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

This part and the following part of Mini Verstappen are going to be heavy in terms of the subject. Luckily after the next part, it'll be the second to last time we hear about Jos in this series.

Words: 2k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

It was one of the odd weekends that Max had off. Nico had a karting race that weekend, and Max made sure that he had been there given how many he had already missed.

“I only got fourth.” Nico blubbered, with his head slumped against his chest.

“You can’t win them all Nico.” Max insisted.

“But you win almost all of your races.” The little boy remarked.

While Max enjoyed winning when he was racing, he didn’t want Nico to feel like he had to strive to be amazing behind the wheel at such a young age. Nico was still learning and wasn’t going to be competing until he was older. He shouldn’t be thinking about winning races all the time. He was just a child.

“Yes I do, but there was a time when I didn’t. Winning isn’t everything. You need to focus on being a good driver first before winning anything. Especially when you have a team of people who are working alongside you.” He explained.

Nico knew how important the team was when Max was on the track, it was hundreds of people working to improve the car. It was never just Max at the end of the day. Max didn’t want to push Nico like his father had pushed him. There were times when Max felt he couldn’t handle the pressure his father was putting on him and he didn’t want Nico to ever feel like that.

Over the last year that Nico had been karting, Max had made his peace with it. This was what Nico wanted. So Max would support him even if he didn’t want his son to pursue being in motorsports.

After having spent so many years away from his father’s influence, with only his son and a nanny to take care of him for the first few years. It made Max think about the way that he was raised, how his father had conditioned him to have a very particular mentality when he was on the track and that was great when he was driving for Red Bull, but it wasn’t how he wanted to raise his son. He didn’t want his child to feel like he had to put aside the other things that he cared about for karting.

Nico would one day be his own person, he didn’t have to have the same aspirations that his father had for him growing up. He wanted Nico to enjoy karting while he was still young, he didn’t want to make it about winning for him. When he was older and decided that it was something that he wanted, then maybe… maybe he could be there to encourage Nico to pursue racing. He didn’t want to force it on him.

“But I like winning. It’s fun.” Nico muttered mostly to himself.

Max let out a deep breath.

He wanted to push Nico to do great when he was driving but he never wanted to take it to the extremes of his father.

He helped Nico pack up all of his things before going and meeting Y/N at the car.

“How about,” He offered up as they walked to the car. “We can work on you winning but when it’s not fun anymore I want you to tell me.”

He knew it wasn’t the perfect thing to offer up but it was better than what he had gone through growing up. He never wanted his son to resent him the way he did his father.

“Okay.” Nico nodded up at him. “Does that mean that we can fix the su…spen…sion? I think there is something wrong with it.”

Max couldn’t help but lightly smile.

“After dinner, we can go into the garage and take a look.” Max normally kept Nico out of the garage when he was working on Nico’s kart. He didn’t want his little fingers anywhere near it just in case something went wrong.

Max saw Y/N before she saw him. She was loading her bag into the back seat of the car while holding her growing belly. Baby Verstappen #2 was growing by the day.

When Y/N told him that she was pregnant he had been scared, he throught that he would have more time racing before they had kids together. Max hadn’t been around when Nico’s birth mother was pregnant with him, and he wanted to be able to experience all of it this time around.

His wife had been at ease with the idea, telling him that there was nothing stopping them from giving Nico a sibling, he was already an amazing dad and adding another one to the family would only further prove that. He had believed her, and now that Y/N was pregnant he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

Max moved all of Nico’s karting things into the trunk of the car and closed it once everything was put away. He made his way to the front of the car, reaching for his wife’s waist.

"Hi, mijn leeuwin." He muttered.

"Hello." She replied before he pulled her in and kissed her letting his hand rest on the growing bump.

“Eww.” He heard from Nico.

Max pulled away long enough to laugh at his reaction. Although their son was used to all of the affection that he showed Y/N it was only recently that Nico started to find it gross.

Y/N carefully reached down and kissed Nico on the cheek.

“No, Mama,” Nico said after he squirmed away wiping off her kiss with the sleeve of his jacket. Nico was still as attached to Y/N as ever but there were little things that showed Max how quickly Nico was growing up.

They had just finished dinner, Max was clearing the table insisting that Y/N relax on the couch with Nico. He didn’t want her walking around more than usual.

There was a knock on the front door, they weren't expecting visitors.

“I’ll get it,” Max said abandoning the table for the door. It was a short walk, him then turning the lock of the door, and a small pull to see his father. Max froze where he stood. What was he doing here?

“Who’s at the door, baby.” He heard.

“No one, just someone who’s at the wrong house.” He said looking directly at his father. Max was quick to reach for his keys. He wasn’t going to invite his father inside. He didn’t want him here.

“Be right back.” Max hollered into the living room.

He pushed his father away from the front door before closing it behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He yelled in Dutch.

“Can’t I visit my family?” Jos had asked.

Max said nothing back to that. Jos knew that they had stopped being his family a long time ago.

“I don’t want you anywhere near my son.” Jos was trying to be civil, but Max didn’t want to be civil. He just wanted him gone from his life like he had been for the last 5 years.

“I’m his grandfather.”

“No, you’re the man that made me realize how I don’t want to raise my son.” He knew those words would cut deep, that was the intention. And he already has a grandfather in Christian, why would he need you? He wanted to add but didn’t.

Jos Verstappen wasn’t his father, they may share blood and a name but nothing else. He wanted nothing to do with him.

When Max was younger he never had to courage to stand up to his father, but after Nico came into his life he realized that he now needed to put Nico before him. After he started dating Y/N, got married, and found out that she was pregnant it made him aware that one day he would see his father and would need to stand up to him and tell him how he felt after all those years.

“What about my other grandchild?”

Max closed his eyes at those words. He never wanted him to know that Y/N was pregnant.

“You didn’t think I would find out?” Jos half questioned.

“I knew that you would eventually find out. I just never expected you to show up at my home with my family here.”

“I’m your family.”

“How can you claim to be my family when you tried to keep my son from me?” Jos never wanted him to know that he had a son. It wasn’t in his plans to make him a champion. Even if Nico wasn’t in his life, he knew he would eventually achieve that goal despite Jos always telling him that he would amount to nothing.

Becoming world Champion meant so much more given that he got to share those dreams with Nico.

“I did it for you, for your career.”

His career? That was his reason. Almost getting frostbite on his fingers as a child, being punched in the face after a race, being left at a gas station in the middle of knowhere. Was that for his career? He could think of more incidents that Jos would claim were “for his career”.

Jos Verstappen’s coaching made him a great driver, but it would have made him a shitty parent in addition to being a horrible husband.

He never wanted to put Y/N through what his mother had to deal with.

“You can claim that it was for my career. But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want you near my family.” Max was tempted to bring up getting a restraining order. If he did, he knew right away that Jos would call him weak, spineless, even pathetic. Jos loved to chuck insults at just about anyone, including the man that he called son.

“Max?” He heard coming from the front door. He turned around to see Y/N standing there looking concerned.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“Nothing, liefde.” He quickly switched back to English. He didn’t want to alarm Y/N that anything was wrong even with the concern that was shown on her face. “Everything is fine.”

He was trying to be reassuring to her. Hoping that she could tell that he had everything handled and wanted her to go back inside so Nico wouldn’t be left alone in the house.

He could see that Y/N was looking past him to see who was standing there. Y/N never pressured him to talk about his father, even if she was curious about what had led them here.

“Please, go back inside.” He pleaded. He didn’t want her around Jos.

He saw her stand up straighter before making her way back into the house.

He turned back to Jos and saw he met his eyes he could see something in him shift.

“You’ve got a good wife, strong, understanding,” Jos said, and as the words left his mouth he wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile at having Jos be proud of something he chose that wasn’t racing or punch him for talking about Y/N. “Looks like my son has gotten at least one thing right.”

“I’m not your son.” He said. He finally got his father's approval, and now he was quick to realize that he didn’t want it. “Now, please leave. I won’t ask you again.”

Jos didn’t say anything back. He didn’t walk away either at first, but as they stood there Max rooted his feet into the concrete of the driveway. Jos nodded before walking away.

It was strange watching his father walk away. He finally saw that Max had grown up and was his own person. As his father disappeared into the distance, all he could feel was a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders. Almost like it was easier to breathe.

He let himself take some time before he made his way inside the house. As he walked back to the house, it was the first time he felt like he didn’t have to watch over his shoulder.

He opened the door to see Y/N standing there with Nico by her side. He opened his arms for them, wanting them close. He breathed in the scent of her hair, feeling the press of Nico into his other side. He was so grateful for the two of you.

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x you #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine

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sbdskate · 2 months

Text

Pencils Down (18+) - Daniel Ricciardo x lawyer!fem!reader

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!lawyer!reader

Summary: At the end of the 2022 F1 season, Daniel Ricciardo finalizes his legal affairs by signing as a reserve driver with Red Bull. The tempting young associate who’s handled the negotiations is no longer off limits.

Warnings (18+): language, *smut (!!!), dry humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, NSFW

Word Count: 2,957

A/N: Surprise! This is an alternate Laws Of Attraction scene that I turned into a one shot. Initially, I had written the hook up to happen immediately after the contract signing, but realized it disrupted the flow of the story. That being said, I still want it to see the light of day. If you're new here: (1) welcome! (2) if you liked it and want the full story, you can find it here. Again, new to smut writing so feedback is always welcome and appreciated. Thank you!

Daniel Ricciardo had finally signed with Red Bull as a reserve driver. After a tumultuous 2022 season filled with lots of lows, you had been the one shiny bright spot as he navigated what his future might look like in the sport. Everybody seemed to have an opinion and something to say, though rarely to his face – how many times had he read in the press that he was “washed up” or that “his career is over” if he didn’t get a primary seat on the grid. But you’d listened to him and supported him as you traversed the fallout with McLaren’s termination and braved negotiations with other teams. Granted, as his lawyer it was your job to act as his fiduciary so he shouldn’t have read as much into it as he did. But from Belgium to Abu Dhabi, he shared his hopes and dreams with you for now and for the future and you received his words with care and without judgment.

Stress, despair, and proximity created the ultimate concoction that laminated the bond between attorney and client. The more time you spent together, the more you learned about each other, and the harder it was to keep personal feelings from muddling the professional relationship. He watched as you navigated worlds surrounded by men, both in Daniel’s field and yours, and he admired your wit, intellect and steadfast determination in the face of being constantly undermined and underestimated. And you, ever the skeptic and cautious to a fault, couldn’t help but succumb to the charm of the handsome driver even when he was at his worst.

Which brought you to the hallway of Red Bull hospitality, the ink from his signature still wet on the new contract for the 2023 season. The other lawyers and representatives had cleared out, leaving the two of you to contemplate whether the little touches and prolonged glances over the last three months were more than they seemed.

“So that’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“Pencils down.”

“Yep.”

“I’m not your client anymore.”

“Correct, I no longer represent you.”

“Now what?”

The irony of the situation was not lost on either of you. After months of buildup and counting down the seconds until the end of your attorney-client representation, you were stuck in a country that criminalized PDA and the cohabitation of unmarried couples. He was scheduled to go back to Perth and you back to the New York office of your law firm tomorrow. You hadn’t allowed your daydreams to get this far and you were stumped.

“I don’t know.” The universe was cruel and unforgiving. You checked your surroundings and bit your lip in frustration.

“Follow me,” he whispered. “I know a place.”

You followed the driver a pace or two behind in silence as you tracked the maze of Red Bull hospitality, cutting through the kitchen, hallways and corridors, until you reached Max’s driver’s room. He closed the door and locked it behind you. He grabbed your hands.

“Tell me you don’t want this. And I’ll leave you alone. You’ll never have to see me again.” His voice was low and gruff, in a way you had never heard before. He squeezed your hands, eyes pleading, trying to convey more than he could put into words in the moment.

You shook your head in disbelief that somehow that was the conclusion he had come to. You cupped his face with your hand, thumb rubbing along his stubbled jaw line. Your voice was soft, barely able to get the words out.

“I want this. I want you. Please.”

You didn’t have to say it twice. His lips crashed into yours in a passionate kiss that almost knocked you off your feet. Months of pent-up sexual tension and mutual curiosity were released in an instant. Your hands roamed each other’s bodies, too many places to explore to stay in one place. Your hands finally found a home in his soft, beautiful curls while his hand firmly held the base of your neck. His other hand rubbed circles around your lower back, cautiously moving downwards. You smiled into the kiss and moved his hand to your bottom, granting permission to proceed.

Having the green light, he moved his other hand down to grab a handful of your ass and picked you up. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around him as he pushed you up against the wall. The hem of your pencil skirt scrunched up at your waist. The thin fabric of your underwear and the bulge of his pants caused friction against your sensitive clit, and you wiggled your hips to get more from the sensation. You kissed him back with ferocity in an attempt to stifle the moans you desperately wanted to scream out, especially as you felt him harden from the contact. You pouted when he pulled away, only for his lips to land on the sensitive spot on your neck. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, unfortunately with too much gusto causing a loud *thud* when your head hit the wall. He immediately stopped.

“Are you ok?” His concern was immediately replaced by giggles when he saw you laughing. “Shhhh we still need to be quiet.”

“I know, I know,” you said between fits of laughter. “It’s just – are we crazy? We’re in a glorified closet with paper thin walls.” You paused, your laughter slowing. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” you said with a sympathetic smile. He gave you a chaste kiss.

“If it were up to me,” Your eyes rolled back as his lips met the column of your neck again. “I’d wine and dine you so hard,” *peck* “maybe somewhere in Monaco,” *peck* “and then take you home and fuck you on the balcony.” You were practically drooling by the time he pulled away to look at you. “This is nowhere close to being good enough for what you deserve. We can stop whenever you want.”

You looked at him, dazed. His warm chestnut brown eyes were so earnest, but it was hard to keep your head straight with him still firmly pressed against you. You absentmindedly wiggled again but he steadied your hips with his fingers. He pressed his forehead to yours.

“I need you to use your words. Do you want to stop?” You frowned.

“No,” you paused. “But I don’t know if I want to continue here.”

“There’s always tonight.” Skeptical, you raised an eyebrow.

“Go on?”

“Well, I can come to your room once all the festivities are over and everyone goes to bed. If you’ll have me, of course.” You swooned.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I already told you I want you. It’s risky though, no?”

“I mean yeah, a little. But …” he grabbed your wrists and pinned them besides your head. “…trying not to get caught is half the fun.” His hot breath tickled your face. All sense of logic and reason went out the window. As a lawyer, this whole situation went against your very nature of rule following.

“Oh,” was all you could croak out.

“Can I do something for you before we go outside?”

“Please,” you begged, eliciting a wicked smirk from him. It dawned on you that he enjoyed seeing you frazzled. But you enjoyed it too. Considering how intense your job was, the mental reprieve was just as thrilling as his touch.

Peeling you from the wall, he continued to hold you until he sat down on the massage table so that you were straddling him. Free from you prior constraints, you rolled your hips over his hardened bulge as you made out. His hands moved from your ass to unbutton your shirt partially, just enough to expose your breasts. He moved a hand to cup one, gently rolling a thumb over your unlined bra where your nipple lay beneath. He separated from the kiss to make his way south, not missing the opportunity to take you in.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. He remembered when you burst into his own room just a few weeks ago to apologize for abandoning him in Austin. Flushed rosy cheeks, messy hair, clothes disheveled, panting - as you were now. He loved how easily he could make you come undone and that only he could ever see you this way. He raised his hips to meet yours when his mouth finally landed on your neck again. You leaned forward and gently bit his shoulder to suppress the noises that threatened to spill from your lips as you bucked your hips. Not trusting your ability to stay quiet, you began leaving a trail of kisses starting at his jaw and down his neck. He stopped you part way down his chest when he realized what you were doing, grabbing your hips roughly. You looked up at him innocently.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t.”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You already make me feel good. This is about you.” He hoisted you back up on his lap, positioning so he could pick you up again. You let out a small yelp at the sudden movement, only for him to place you back down on the massage table. He leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead before spreading your legs and kneeling in front of you. If you weren’t blushing before, your face was now beet-red. His hands lightly caressed the length of your leg, starting at your ankles and slowly making their way up your thighs. Your toes curled in your heels in anticipation.

You took a sharp inhale as he leaned in to leave a trail kisses up your inner thigh. You held your breath when he stopped at your panty-line, his hands playing with the sides of your thong. He looked up at you intently.

“Do you want me to keep going?” Eyes wide, you aggressively nodded and he chuckled at your eagerness. He drew little patterns over and around you, but purposefully just shy of your clit. You bit your bottom lip in frustration, the teasing becoming unbearable. He lightly dragged a finger over the center of your underwear, feeling your wetness through the fabric. As cool, calm, and collected as he looked to you, he too was quite literally bursting at the seams. His hardened cock strained against his pants seeking release. He wished he could fuck you right then and there, but understood the obvious risks you so pointedly observed.

Your legs trembled as he slowly pulled the fabric down. You wanted to scream feeling his hot breath over your entrance. You slapped a hand over your mouth when he closed the gap. He drew little circles around your bundle of nerves with his tongue before he switched to flicking. Your free hand found its way to his curls again, grasping for anything to keep you grounded as you felt like you would float away. Looking up from between your thighs, he saw the rise and fall of your chest and your bra peeking through your shirt. He unwrapped an arm to bring a finger to your folds, pausing to gauge your reaction.

You subconsciously bucked your hips, desperate for more contact. Accepting the sign, he inserted a finger, then two as he continued to lap at your clit. You arched your back in response to the dual sensations, doing your best to focus on your breathing. You wanted to shout his name to the world, to let everyone know that he was yours and you were his. Every obscenity known to man was on the tip of your tongue, but you held it in. His hands and mouth fell into a comfortable rhythm as your hand found a place in his hair again, running fingers through soft ringlets. Your core tensed, pressure pooling in your lower abdomen. He sensed you were close as you subconsciously squeezed your thighs around his head, encouraging him to keep going. He wished he could stay there forever. He looked up again a few moments later to see your eyes squeezed shut and your whole body convulsing around him as you reached your climax. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

You melted into the table as you came down from your high. You gave him a small pat on the head to indicate that you had finished, though your limp body was evidence enough to him. He smiled as he pulled away, giving a small kiss on your inner thigh before sucking his fingers that had been inside you moments ago. You lazily glanced at him slack-jawed. You still weren’t sure whether this was all just a fever dream. He began to wipe his mouth but you grabbed his shirt to stop him.

“No,” you mumbled. You haphazardly pulled on the shirt in your hands to encourage him to meet your lips and he happily obliged. “I want to taste myself,” you said under your breath just as the gap closed.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he had done to deserve such praise but was thankful nonetheless. You felt another wave of pleasure pulse through you as you tasted your own salty essence on your tongue. You began palming him over his pants, moving to unbuckle his belt when he stopped you. Sometimes he even surprised himself with the amount of self-control he had. But he knew it was only because if things progressed, the little he had left would dissolve into oblivion. He would happily go to jail for you, but he was not worried about getting caught himself. The repercussions for you would be detrimental in more ways than one and he wasn’t sure his celebrity would be enough to shelter you from reprimand.

“Nooooo,” you whined as he peeled your hand from his crotch. He gave it a kiss before returning it to your side.

“Not here. Later, I promise.” His cock was pulsating, he tried to think of the Bills, Zak Brown, or literally anything else to take his mind away from the vision in front of him. You moved your hand down to play with yourself, but he grabbed it again. Your lower lip jutted, and you spread your legs wider for him. He was pretty sure he would give you almost anything you asked for with the eyes you gave him. Almost.

“Why?”

“Because we’ll get caught.”

“If I go to jail, I go to jail.” He laughed.

“That’s not what you said earlier. Plus -” he gave you a peck on the cheek. “I can’t fuck you if you’re in jail.” He had a point. You closed your legs, finally conceding.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” Taking your hand again, he helped you to your feet. He knelt before you to pull your panties up, unnecessarily taking his time. He didn’t miss the opportunity to kiss your hips and gave your butt a light tap to close out the encounter. He straightened your skirt, taking care to smooth out as many wrinkles as he could. You bit your bottom lip, your heart felt so full with how delicately he handled you but you also ached for him to rip off the clothes he just took great care putting on.

“You’re being awfully needy.” He continued to dress you as you complained, buttoning your shirt back up.

“What can I say? I’m a strong, independent, needy woman.” He bit back his laugh. He didn’t need you to know this hurt him as much as it pained you.

You pulled him in for a kiss again, though it only lasted a second before he practically pushed you away. You frowned and were about to ask his what was wrong, but looked down and quickly realized his conundrum. You were reminded of one of the few benefits of being a woman: the ability to hide arousal in public.

“Oh – oh shit. I can help…?” You gently touched his chest and began kneeling but he placed your hand back at your side and encouraged you to stand upright.

“Nope. No. I just have to… think of something else for a bit.” You looked at him intently but he was very focused on the ceiling. You didn’t want to make him feel bad, so you pursed your lips together to hold back your laughter.

“Ok. Well, um, I’ll see you later then.” He shut his eyes hard when you went to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry,” you said again, realizing you were not helping the situation. “I’m just - going to go.” You turned around and bent over to pick up your work bag, which incidentally prominently displayed the curves of your rear.

“Oh my God, please just get out.” You immediately stood up straight to find him covering his eyes with his hands.

“I know, I’m sorry!” You walked backwards to the door to avoid any further accidental temptation. “This was fun, I’ll see you later,” you said with a giant smile.

Not removing one of the hands from his face, he waved with the other one. “Just be careful on your way out. But please, for the sake of both of us, you need to leave,” he said with a smile.

“I know, I know, I’m leaving. Byeeee,” you whispered as you shut the door.

You quickly checked your surroundings and made a b-line for the bathroom where you finally had a moment to process what just happened. You looked at your reflection. Your heartbeat had finally returned to normal, but your cheeks were still a little flushed from the encounter. Otherwise, you pulled your slightly tangled hair back in a bun – no one would be none the wiser.

You didn’t look much different, but your sense of reality had been permanently altered.

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lecsainz · 1 year

Text

Sister's Support

pairings: daniel ricciardo x sister!reader / charles leclerc x ricciardo!reader / max verstappen x ricciardo!reader / lando norris x ricciardo!reader / carlos sainz x ricciardo!reader

warnings: a day in the paddock with the ricciardo’s siblings, daniel being an annoying and funny brother, 2022 grid.

authors note: i think i don't need to say BUT I LOVED WRITING THIS VERY MUCH, apparently i love writing them all 😅 and i just miss ricc 😭 well, i hope you all like it.

word count: 1.7K

Y/N had always been too busy with college to attend her brother's races, and she never wanted to be in the public eye. As a result, she chose not to accompany Daniel through the paddock, opting instead to stay in a reserved family room or in the grandstands.

But one day, something shifted inside her. She woke up and realized that she wanted to experience a race in all its glory - to walk through the paddock, meet the drivers, and feel the energy of formula 1. And so she made the decision to join Daniel at a race, fully immersing herself in the world of motorsport.

And here she was stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down her dress and adjusting her hair. Today was the day of the race, and she was excited to be joining Daniel in the paddock.

She had flown in from Australia to Monaco just for this event, and she was determined to make the most of it.

As she finished applying her makeup, there was a knock on the door.

"Hey sis, you ready?" Daniel called out.

Y/N opened the door to find her brother grinning at her. "Ready as I'll ever be," she said, rolling her eyes.

Daniel laughed. "You look great. Although, maybe a little too great," he teased.

Y/N scowled at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Daniel just grinned. "Nothing, nothing. I just don't want any of the other drivers to get distracted by my little sister."

Y/N rolled her eyes again. "Please, as if."

As they walked through the hotel lobby, Y/N couldn't help feeling a little self-conscious. She was wearing a tight dress and heels, while Daniel was dressed in his usual casual attire.

But as they stepped outside and made their way to the paddock, Y/N started to relax. There was a buzz in the air, a sense of excitement that was contagious.

And as they walked through the paddock, Y/N felt her spirits lift even higher. There were so many people, all dressed in team colors and milling about, chatting and laughing.

Daniel introduced her to some of his colleagues, and Y/N tried her best to keep up with the racing lingo. She was a little intimidated by all the technical jargon, but she could tell that everyone was impressed by her enthusiasm.

She watched in amazement as her older brother Daniel climbed out of his race car, his face beaming with excitement. It was the first time she had ever come to a race with him, and the atmosphere was electric. Everywhere she looked, there were people milling about, mechanics tweaking engines, and drivers zipping around on their scooters. It was a world unlike any she had ever seen.

"Come on, sis!" Daniel called, grinning from ear to ear. "Let's go check out the paddock!"

Y/N followed him eagerly, taking in all the sights and sounds around her. As they walked, Daniel waved to other drivers, slapped high fives with mechanics, and generally acted like he owned the place.

"Hey, there's Max!" he said excitedly, pointing out the Red Bull driver as he walked by. "Hey, Max, over here!"

Max turned to look at them and raised an eyebrow in greeting. "Hey, Daniel. Who's your friend?"

"This is my sister, Y/N," Daniel said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "She's a bit of a newbie to all this, but I'm showing her the ropes."

Max nodded, giving Y/N a polite smile. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. You should come hang out with me and the guys later. We'll show you how to party properly."

Y/N felt a blush creeping up her neck. She had never been good at handling attention from guys, and Max was one of the most handsome drivers on the circuit.

"Uh, yeah, sure," she stammered, hoping she didn't sound too eager.

Daniel chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Don't mind her, Max. She's still a bit star-struck. Come on, let's go find some food."

They made their way to the hospitality area, where teams had set up tents and tables for their guests. As they approached the McLaren tent, Daniel saw a group of his teammates sitting together, laughing and joking.

"Hey, guys!" he called out, striding up to them. "Mind if I introduce you to my sister?"

The guys looked up, their eyes widening as they saw Y/N. She was wearing a tight-fitting dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, and her makeup was immaculate. They had never seen Daniel with a girl like her before.

"Hey, Y/N," Lando Norris said, grinning widely. "Welcome to the crazy world of Formula 1."

"Thanks," Y/N said, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the attention. "It's amazing to be here."

They chatted for a few minutes, with Daniel teasing Y/N mercilessly about her lack of knowledge about the sport. "She doesn't even know what DRS stands for," he told his friends, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Y/N rolled her eyes, feeling a little embarrassed. "I'm learning," she protested. “And I know what it is DRS stands for Drag Reduction System, it's a...”

Daniel interrupts his sister “Or... DRS could stand for Daniel Ricciardo Supremacy. I mean, let's be real, that's what it's all about, right?”

Just then, they heard a voice calling out from across the paddock. "Hey, Dan! Over here!"

It was Carlos Sainz, the Ferrari driver, waving them over. Daniel grinned, giving Y/N a quick hug before leading the way.

"Hey, man!" he said, clapping Carlos on the back. "What's up?"

"Not much, just hanging out," Carlos said, grinning at Y/N. "And who's this lovely lady?"

"This is my sister, Y/N," Daniel said, proudly introducing her. "She's come to watch me race."

"Ah, I see," Carlos said, winking at her. "Well, you're welcome to hang out with us if you want, Y/N. We could use a bit of glamour in the Ferrari garage."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush again at the attention. "Sure, that sounds great," she said, trying to act cool.

For the rest of the day, Y/N found herself in the middle of a whirlwind of activity. She watched as Daniel went through his pre-race routine, making sure that everything was in place for a successful day on the track. As she stood by his side, Daniel made sure to include her in every step of the process, explaining things to her and answering any questions she had.

During the race itself, Y/N watched from the pit wall as Daniel battled it out with the other drivers on the track. She felt a thrill of excitement as he made daring overtakes and defended his position against his rivals.

And while Daniel didn't end up winning the race, Y/N still felt a sense of pride and excitement as she watched him climb out of the car, sweaty and exhilarated.

As the celebrations wound down, Y/N found herself wandering around the paddock, feeling a little lost. That was when she saw him.

Charles Leclerc was standing a few feet away, talking to some of his mechanics. He looked up and caught her eye, and Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. She had always had a bit of a crush on Charles, with his charming smile and piercing green eyes.

"Hey," he said, walking over to her. "You're Daniel's sister, right?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a little shy. "Yeah, that's me."

Charles smiled at her, looking genuinely interested. "So, what do you think of all this?"

"It's amazing," Y/N said, feeling a little more at ease now. "I've never seen anything like it."

Charles nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah, it can be pretty overwhelming at first. But once you get used to it, it's just another day at the office."

They chatted for a few more minutes, with Charles asking Y/N about her life and interests. Y/N found herself relaxing more and more, feeling like she could actually be herself around him.

"Hey, would you like to grab a drink later?" Charles asked, sounding a little hesitant. "I know this great little bar down the road."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She had never expected something like this to happen.

"Yeah, that sounds great," she said, feeling a little giddy.

Charles smiled at her, and Y/N felt a flutter in her stomach.

As Y/N and Charles walked away, Daniel spotted them from across the paddock. He jogged over, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey, what are you two up to?" he asked, nudging Y/N in the side.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother's teasing. "Just hanging out," she said, trying not to sound too excited.

Daniel turned to Charles, giving him a playful punch on the arm. "Watch out, mate," he said, grinning. "Y/N's a bit of a heartbreaker."

Charles laughed, looking a little embarrassed. "Is that right?"

Daniel nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah, you better keep an eye on her. She's trouble, I tell you."

Y/N groaned, feeling herself turn red. "Daniel, stop it," she said, swatting him on the arm.

"Charles, did you know that Y/N has a crush on a certain number 16 driver?" he said, grinning at his younger sister.

Y/N felt her cheeks turn bright red.

"Daniel, please." she hissed.

"Really?" Charles started teasing her. "Maybe I have a crush on her too."

She looked surprised at the monegasque and he gave her a wink. Y/N was sure she was redder than ferrari.

But despite her embarrassment, Y/N couldn't help feeling grateful to have her brother there. He might tease her relentlessly, but she knew he had her back no matter what.

As they continued chatting, Daniel made sure to include Y/N in the conversation, joking and teasing with both her and Charles. Y/N felt herself relaxing more and more, enjoying the company of her brother and this charming young driver.

And as she looked over at her brother, grinning from ear to ear, Y/N felt a sense of happiness that she had never felt before. Maybe, just maybe, she had found her place in the crazy, wonderful world of formula 1 after all.

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bucket-hat-lando · 2 months

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Red Bull Rumors (MV)

Summery - max is already dominating the new season but can only handle getting asked about Christian so many times before he snaps mid interview

Disclaimer- this is a fictional story based on events that have been talked about recently

Enjoy 🧡

Max season was off to a great start already winning Bahrain and now Saudi Arabia he had Y/n it was perfect so perfect until his last media duty for the Saudi GP

Max was already fed up with the Christian Rumor questions before the race weekend started he just wanted to focus on the race and making his team proud. Y/n was with him heading to his last media duty occasionally stopping to say hi if she saw another drivers girlfriend.

As they approached Will for the sky sports interview y/n took her spot behind the camera kissing max before he starts . Everything was going pretty well Will asking the basic questions like “how does it feel to win the first two races of this season?” and “what did you think of Norris overtaking in the beginning “? Max as usual did his “maxsplaining” y/n laughing quietly while listening.

She tunes out the rest going on her phone liking tweets about today until her attention is brought back when she hears Will ask Max “How are you handling this weekend with all the Christian allegations?” That’s when she sees max’s face and body language change his face goes stone cold and body rigid and y/n knows these are two signs that Max is going to freak out.

Before she could stop the interview Max is already going off on Will saying “ THIS IS ABOUT RACING CAN WE PLEASE JUST FOCUS ON THAT WHY DO YALL NEED TO KNOW EVERY LITTLE THING.” He shouts at Will before storming off and grabbing y/n hand tightly walking with his head down to the motor home.

Once inside Max slides down the wall and y/n can see the tears building up in his eyes but not letting them fall so she sits next to him and pulls him into a tight hug bringing his head against her shoulder and that’s when it happens Max Verstappen the man dominating everyone breaks down in her arms while all she can do is rub his back and whisper in his ear “I got you it’s ok “ “just breathe”

After a few minutes of coaxing him max lifts his head and looks at her face red eyes puffy holding her hand as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear and says “ I can’t lose him y/n I can’t i don’t think i can trust anybody more than him.” She looks at him softly before replying “ Baby you’re not gonna lose him everything will blow over and be back to normal soon and until he gets back just know I’m always in your corner and we will get through this together. “ She grabs his face kissing his forehead nose and mouth then whispers “ You will never be alone I promise baby.”

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lando norris fluff #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #f1 2023 #max verstappen imagine #red bull max #lando norris #lando x reader #max verstappen #saudi arabia gp 2024

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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months

Text

Chapter 4 - They Call Me Kid

AN : So second person won the poll so I guess I will continue in this POV…I love seeing comments so keep at it. And don’t forget that I have a tag list, so just ask if you can be put on it! Enjoy!

The blare of the alarm from your phone was not fun to wake up to. Arthur had told you many times to change it, but you never listened. If there was a nice tune that was supposed to wake you up, you never would. A sleepy groan escaped your lips as you stretched. You wanted to rub your eyes, but you knew better. Taking a shower was the first thing on your agenda.

The shower was definitely smaller than the one you had back home, but it would have to do. The water pressure wasn’t great either. You just hoped that the water wouldn’t leave your hair feeling greasy all day. At least you could use the hair dryer. It didn’t take long for the water to warm up. Your muscles instantly relaxed under the stream of heat.

You definitely fit into the category of “girls who love molten lava water temperature.” Cold showers, or just any cold water, were not your thing. Your trainer often had to force you to get into the ice bath.

The water helped the sleepiness go away, but a red bull would really get the job done. Knowing the time crunch, you quickly washed and conditioned your hair, along with shaving and exfoliating. You needed to make a good impression on the first day.

Drying your hair barely took anytime. Since you knew that the simulator would be a big part of today, you forwent the contacts and decided to use your glasses.

The real driving started on Sunday. Which, you couldn’t help but be excited for. However, you knew how to use a sim, but not the physical car.

The basics would only help you out so much.

You shook your head, trying to get out of the oncoming detrimental mindset. You needed music. And there was only one song that you knew would help.

“Hey Siri, play Life is a Highway by Rascal Flats.”

The female AI voice responded, “Now playing, Life is a Highway by Rascal Flatts.”

The familiar sound of the drums and eclectic guitar filled the small bathroom. Your head started to bob as you began your skin care routine. Your makeup didn’t take long since you had decided to go with your glasses.

“I’LL BE THERE WHEN THE LIGHT COMES IN – JUST TELL ‘EM WE’RE SURVIVORS!”

Your hands pretended to play an air guitar as you jumped on your bed. You flung your hair left and right at you went into the chorus.

“LIFE IS A HIGHWAY, WELL I WANNA RIDE IT ALL NIGHT LONG!”

You, however, were stopped once there was a knock on the door. You quickly turned the music off before clamoring down from the bed. You almost tripped on a loose shoe as you quickly opened the door.

Standing there was Vito. He took in your appearance before smirking. He pushed passed you and walked further into the room.

“Well ok then,” you muttered, “just let yourself in I guess.” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to tame the fly aways from your one person concert.

“Heard you singing down the hallway.” Your mouth gaped.

“No you did not.” Your shoulders brushed as you walked back into the bathroom. You heard him chuckle as he sat down on your stomped on bed. You quickly finished up. Grabbing your bag, you let Vito know that you were ready. He stood up and walked to the door, with you following behind him.

You said a quick good morning to the desk workers before walking out the sliding doors. Outside, a nice SUV with tinted was waiting.

“Front seat or back seat?” you asked.

“Back.”

Your hand reached for the back handle and popped the door open. The driver turned around a bit and gave you a smile as you slid on the nice leather. You greeted him before he turned around. The car started to move a bit as you put your seatbelt on.

“What is on the agenda for today?” you ask Vito as he pulls out a fancy tablet. It looked very similar to the one that Christian had yesterday afternoon.

“So you have a simulator run, then a suit fitting, and then you need to quickly decide on a helmet design. You could use your current one, but it’s Vegas,” Vito replies.

“Viva Las Vegas,” you murmured the tune. “When do I need to send in a helmet design?”

“Probably by the end of the day. They mentioned they needed it soon.”

“Gotcha.” You quickly took out your phone to start looking over saved designs that you had. Scrolling through your ideas, a couple stood out to you. You reached over to show Vito a few pictures. “Do you think it’s too early for this one?” A bright red and yellow helmet was on display.

Vito only laughed. “Quite possibly.” He took your phone and scrolled through the rest of the designs. “Your current helmet is white and silver. Do you want to continue or do you want to go with a darker shade?”

You let out a hmmm. “Let’s keep it white,” you pulled your lip in between your teeth, “and can we add the sparkles?” You were basically a child when it came to glitter.

“Sure kid.” Vito seemed to screenshot the design and send it to an unknown number. You were satisfied with what you picked. You just couldn’t wait to use the rest of them. You had one picked out for your first actual race, one for COTA, one for Halloween, one for…you got pulled out of your thoughts when the car stopped.

The building, once again, was very impressive. You could get used to the view. At this point, you never wanted anything to be different. You heard the unbuckling of Vito’s seatbelt and followed suit. You both used the back entrance once again to get into the building. You guessed that RB was very particular about what news they wanted to get out and what news they wanted to keep secret.

Passing the posters, you felt better about the future. You would be up there, if it was the last thing you did. This time, you followed Vito down a different hallway than the first time. Through a door at the end of the hallway, the two of you entered a giant room with multiple sims. Your heart started to race. You couldn’t decipher if it was from anxiety or excitement.

Vito continued to walk forward with you hot on his heals. You didn’t want to get too far from him, but your eyes caught the new DMG-1. Even Dams didn’t have this grand of machinery. You had strayed just enough from Vito to be “alone,” but you were still close. Your eyes raced over the sim. Excitement started to buzz in your veins. Your hands itched to touch the wheel. It was all impressive. You didn’t expect anything less from the all-time dominant team.

“You like it?” A voice interrupted your thoughts.

You turned your head and your eyes met a pair of brown ones. A woman, taller than you, in an official RB polo stood with one of those tablets.

You could only nod your head, eyes glistening like a kid in a candy store. This is basically your candy.

“It-it’s amazing,” you stuttered, suddenly feeling shy.

The woman let out a small laugh before putting a hand out between the two of you. You grasped the hand firmly as she shook yours.

“Michelle Williams, your Race Engineer. I’m here to see how you do on the sim.” She gave you a nice smile.

“Nice to meet you Miss Williams,” you shyly said. This time, her laugh was a little louder as she waved her hands.

“None of that, people often call me Mitch, and I want you to do as well. You have anything you want me to call you by?”

Your head cocked. With eyes shifting quickly to Vito, you answered, “They call me kid. I don’t know why, but Vito started calling me that during F2 and it kinda just stuck.” Your shoulders shrugged. You knew exactly why he called you that. You had just turned 17 days before your first F2 debut. You were a kid. Thus, the nickname still stuck.

She nodded. “Alright kid. You want to show me what you can do?”

Your eyes widened. “Right now?”

“Yep. Don’t worry about the others. They’re here for other things. It’s just going to be me and you. A test run for the real thing if you will.” Her smile was comforting.

You took a deep breath and took a step towards the simulator. You carefully climbed into the machine with the help of Mitch. Once you had gotten situated, you pulled the straps down and buckled in. Mitch handed you a headset and explained that she would have one as well on the outside to get you used to her talking.

She started up the sim from the outside. You were now in your element.

From your headset, Mitch talked, “Ok kid. We’re going to do a couple of laps in Vegas to get you used to the layout. How does that sound?”

You replied, “Sounds good Mitch. Just so you know, I have a borderline photographic memory, so I think I can have it memorized by the first lap” There was a reason for your dominance on the F2 tracks. Tiny details that people might forget after a lap were always noticed by you. Because of your communication with the team, you were able to overcome things that sent drivers into the barriers.

“Sounds good. Ok, starting the first lap, stand by.”

You inhaled and exhaled before pressing on the pedals. It was definitely harder than an F2 car, but you could manage. Taking things slowly, you took your time to get the layout of the track and how it felt. You were able to communicate a few things with Mitch as you leisurely drove around. After about 7-10 laps of just driver, Mitch told you to line the car up with the animated P1 spot.

What you didn’t know, was that the rest of the crew, including Christian had gathered around to see how you did. Vito stood with bated breath. He knew you could do it.

From you headset came, “This is ‘for real’ now kid. Let’s set an official lap time for the simulator.”

“Yes ma’am.” You wanted to mock salute, but you needed to focus. You shifted down in your seat to make yourself smaller.

Once the animated lights changed green, your pretend tires spun as the car accelerated at an amazing speed. You weren’t expecting it but you accepted it with open arms. This is what you were meant to do.

You eyes stayed laser focused on the track as you went around the first corner. This track definitely had a lot of straights, and you knew that the track was going to be colder than normal. You commanded the car with excellence. You hadn’t even realized that you had already gone around the track.

Christian leaned over to Vito, “Where’d you find this kid?”

Vito could only smile and shrug his shoulders.

You were pulled out of your mindset when Mitch spoke in the headset, “And that is an excellent time of 1 minute and 32 point 799 seconds. Well done kid.” You could practically hear her smile, which made you smile in return.

“Do I need to go another time?” you asked as you taxied the “car” around the circuit.

“That’s all for today. I think you need to go with your manager for the suit fitting.”

“Thanks Mitch.”

“No problem kid.”

You parked the pretend car and looked up at the time and smiled. A click caught your attention as a photographer had his camera to his face. He sheepishly smiled as he brought the camera down.

“Could you send me that?” you asked him as you unbuckled the seatbelts. He nodded and walked away. As you climbed down out of the sim, you finally noticed the crowd. You averted your eyes as you walked over to Vito and Christian.

“Nice to see you again Mr. Horner,” you said as Vito passed you a water bottle, which you chugged gratefully.

“Mega job there kid,” he paused, “I can call you that right?” You never would have thought that the great Christian Horner would be hesitant about things like that.

You let out a little laugh, “Yes sir. Seems like it sticks with me wherever I end up.” You poked Vito in the side. The three of you talked for a bit. Things about the upcoming schedule were discussed before you had a question.

“Am I meeting Max and Checo at Vegas, or will I meet them before?”

Christian brought his hand to his chin. “I think we’re going to fly you down on Tuesday and we can all go out to eat.”

“Does, um, Max know yet?” You really didn’t want him to meet you for the first time and just then find out that you were going to be his teammate. Your worries must have shown on your face as Christian put his hand on your shoulder.

“He already knows. He knows what it’s like, being young and all.”

“And he doesn’t care that I’m…” you trailed off, leaving the words unspoken.

Christian gave you a sympathetic look. “Kid, he’s eager to meet you. The guy likes a challenge and I think he’s ready for a new dynamic.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Ok, thank you.”

“No problem kid. I think though that you are needed in room 3A for a suit fitting.” He pointed in the direction of the room.

You thanked him and walked over to the door, with a new found confidence you didn’t know you had.

Opening the door, you were met with another man and a woman.

“Hey kid. You ready for your fitting?” the woman asked.

“I was born ready.”

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#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 x you #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #alex albon x reader

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pucksandpower · 6 months

Text

Changing Lanes

Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc always thought he would spend the rest of his career racing in red. But you make him see that he deserves better than false promises and unrequited love

“Took you long enough,” you say, lounging casually on the small leather couch in Charles’ driver’s room, your fingertips tracing intricate patterns on the cushion beside you.

Charles raises an eyebrow, letting out a dry laugh as he kicks off his shoes. “Every single time I see you, Y/N, you always have something to say.”

You linger on him. “Is it my fault you had to chat with the entire paddock before coming here?”

He smirks, crossing the room. “It’s called being polite. Something you could learn from.”

“Polite?” You scoff, feigning innocence. “Oh, like how Ferrari celebrated that P3 like it was a win? That kind of polite?”

Charles stiffens but he keeps his cool. “We take what we can get.”

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing. “Starting on pole and settling for P3? Charles, you deserve better.”

“I know,” he sighs, avoiding your gaze. “But this is racing. Sometimes it just doesn’t go your way.”

You lean in closer, your voice dropping an octave. “It could, though. If you were with a team that actually valued you, that gave you a car worthy of your talent.”

He looks up, meeting your gaze with a challenge. “You mean Red Bull?”

A coy smile plays on your lips. “It’s not a secret that Dad wants you. And imagine … you, in a competitive car, and me, right by your side as your race engineer.”

Charles’ eyes dart to your lips then back up to your eyes. “Tempting,” he murmurs, leaning in just a fraction closer. “But is this for the team or for you?”

“Can’t it be both?” You whisper back.

His breath hitches and he pulls back slightly. “This isn’t just about racing, is it?”

You hesitate. “I see how they treat you. How they let you down time and time again. But with us ... with me ... it would be different.”

He looks conflicted. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” You press. “With Red Bull, you’d have support, a competitive car, and … me.”

Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just about what happens on track. It’s about the politics, the contracts, the media ... it’s all complicated.”

“You make it sound like an impossible puzzle,” you say, tracing circles on his wrist. You gaze locks with his, trying to convey everything you feel.

“It might be.”

You lean in, lips just inches from his. “Then let’s solve it together.”

He hesitates, searching your eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”

You smirk, confidence oozing from every pore. “Isn’t that what racing’s all about?”

Charles chuckles softly, the tension in the room slowly melting away. “You always have an answer for everything.”

“It’s the Horner in me,” you retort with a smug smile. “Besides, aren’t you tired of being just another pawn in Ferrari’s game?”

“It’s not easy. To just switch teams, to give up on something you’ve worked for your entire life.”

You reach up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Who says you’re giving up? You’d be making a choice. A choice to be somewhere you’re valued. Somewhere you have a real shot at the championship. With people who truly care about you and actions that reflect that.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just about the racing. There are so many other factors.”

“Like what?”

He opens his eyes, meeting yours. “Like us.”

You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“If I come to Red Bull … if I work with you … it changes everything. Our relationship. Our dynamic. Everything.”

You take a moment, absorbing his words. “We can handle it. We’re strong enough.”

He gives you a sad smile. “I wish I had your confidence.”

You cup his cheek, your thumb stroking his skin. “You have me. Together, we can face anything.”

Charles looks at you for a long moment, his emotions raw and exposed. Finally, he speaks. “I’ll think about it. But whatever I decide … know that it’s not just about racing. I refuse to give you up.”

“Just promise me one thing.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “Never settle for less than you deserve.”

He smiles, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “Same goes for you, Y/N Horner.”

***

“I still can’t believe they forgot to remove the radiator blank,” you murmur, your fingers softly tracing patterns on Charles’ bare chest as he lies next to you in his São Paulo hotel. The dim light from the bedside lamp paints soft shadows on his face, emphasizing the frustration in his eyes.

Charles sighs heavily, turning his head to look at you. “Neither can I. Another race, another issue. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore.”

You lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear. “You don’t deserve this, Charles. You’re better than this. Better than them.”

He chuckles humorlessly, eyes closing. “It seems like it’s one thing after another.”

“Come to Red Bull,” you whisper, fingertips dancing down his arm. “You know it’s the right move.”

He opens his eyes, looking deep into yours. “Y/N, we talked about this.”

You press a gentle kiss on his jaw, speaking against his skin. “Hear me out. If McLaren overtakes Ferrari in the Constructors’ standings, you can activate your exit clause. You could leave them, Charles.”

Charles swallows hard, feeling the warmth of your breath on his neck. “And if they don’t?”

“Then we’ll buy you out,” you say confidently, trailing kisses down his collarbone. “Dad’s already spoken about it. We want you. I want you.”

Charles’ breath catches as your hands explore his torso but he tries to focus. “Equal status with Max?”

“Of course,” you assure him, pressing your body flush against his. “You and Max, racing side by side. Just think of the possibilities.”

He groans, both from your touch and the tempting offer. “A car designed by Adrian Newey ...”

You nod, “With plenty of oversteer, just how you like it. No more one-sided compromises.”

He laughs softly. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

You smirk, lips hovering over his. “Always. And instead of Xavi, you’d hear my voice on the other end of the radio, guiding you, supporting you.”

Charles captures your lips with his, deepening the kiss before pulling back. “You’re making it very hard to think.”

“That’s the point,” you whisper with a playful grin, your hands tugging at his waistband.

He bites his lip, trying to resist your charms. “But Y/N ... it’s not just about the racing. It’s ... it’s us. What happens to us?”

You cup his cheek, gazing deep into his eyes. “We fight together, we win together. Every podium, every championship, we celebrate together.”

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You make it sound so perfect.”

“It can be,” you promise, pressing soft kisses on his eyelids. “With Red Bull, you’d have everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And me.”

Charles smiles, caressing your cheek. “You’re very persuasive, you know?”

You grin. “It’s one of my many talents.”

He chuckles, capturing your lips once more. “I’ll think about it.”

“Whatever you decide, I’ll still be by your side.”

He smiles, pulling you closer. “I know. And that’s what makes this decision so hard.”

***

“Absolutely unbelievable,” your father mutters, watching the replay of Ferrari’s disastrous double stack. “You would think they’ve never done a pit stop before.”

You nod, equally shocked. But your attention shifts as the familiar figure of your favorite Monegasque storms into the Red Bull garage, his helmet still on and visor obscuring his face. You can feel the fury emanating from him.

“Charles?” You question hesitantly.

He doesn’t respond to you but instead turns to your father, “Christian, can we talk? Now. Somewhere private.”

Christian looks taken aback by the intensity in Charles’ voice but nods. “Of course.”

Charles glances at you. “You too, Y/N. Please.”

You follow, the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. Once inside the small office, Charles finally removes his helmet, revealing eyes red from restrained tears. He takes a moment, collecting himself before he speaks.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Charles exhales. “Every single time I think they’ve hit rock bottom, they find a new low. Today was the last straw.”

You approach him, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Charles, I’m so sorry.”

Your father is equally sympathetic. “That was hard to watch. I can’t even imagine what it felt like.”

Charles closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just today. It’s everything. I gave them everything. I wanted to win with them. For my father. For Jules.”

You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “They would be so incredibly proud of you. No matter what.”

He blinks back tears, voice strained. “I wanted to drive that red car to the top for them. But I can’t keep sacrificing myself for a team that clearly does not value me in return.”

Your father speaks up, “Charles, if you’re thinking of a change ... Red Bull is ready to welcome you with open arms.”

Charles looks up, locking eyes with him. “I know. And as much as Ferrari has been my dream, my home, I can’t do this anymore. I want to be with a team that values me. I want to join Red Bull.”

You’re taken aback by his sudden declaration but the look in his eyes tells you that he’s made up his mind. “Charles,” you whisper, stepping closer. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“It’s hard,” he admits. “But this is where my heart is telling me to go.”

Your father gives the two of you a moment, leaving the office to give you privacy.

Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you close. “I never imagined leaving Ferrari. But after everything, I know it’s the right decision.”

You wrap your arms around him, resting your forehead against his. “They will be so proud of you, Charles. No matter what colors you wear or what car you drive.”

He smiles weakly. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”

You pull back slightly, searching his eyes. “This is a big step. I don’t want you to regret anything. Are you still sure?”

He nods, determination in his gaze. “More than I’ve ever been.”

You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Then welcome to Red Bull.”

***

“I have to tell Ferrari,” Charles straightens, determination evident in his eyes. “I just need to get it over with. Will you come with me?”

“Of course.“

Charles grabs your hand, pulling you towards his driver’s room. “Wait here,” he says, going in and returning moments later with his Ferrari jacket. He places it over your Red Bull team polo, attempting to keep your allegiance concealed for now. You both then proceed to the debrief room where the Ferrari team is waiting.

Fred Vasseur begins his speech the moment you both enter, “This wasn’t how we wanted to end the year but looking ahead to next season—”

Charles cuts him off, “Actually, there won’t be a next season. Not for me.”

The room falls into a tense silence, all eyes on the driver who has given them his heart and soul.

“What do you mean?”

Charles takes a deep breath, “I’ve decided to leave Ferrari.”

Gasps fill the room. Fred’s eyes land on you, finally noticing the Red Bull logo peeking out from under the jacket you’re borrowing. “And you bring her, of all people, here to tell us this?”

Charles squares his shoulders. “Y/N is here because I asked her to be. This decision is mine and mine alone.”

Xavi stands up, “After everything we’ve done for you! This is how you repay us?”

You can’t hold back any longer. “Everything you’ve done? You mean the countless strategy mistakes, the endless car issues, the complete lack of support?”

Another team member cuts in, “This is not your place, Y/N!”

“It is today,” you retort. “I’m here to support my new driver.”

Charles’ voice shakes but he speaks with conviction, “I gave everything for this team. I bled Ferrari red. But I can’t keep doing this. Not when it’s clear that my effort and commitment is not matched in return.”

Fred’s voice softens. “Charles, we’ve had our challenges but we can overcome them together.”

Charles shakes his head, tears threatening to spill. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m joining Red Bull. My manager will send over the necessary legal paperwork as soon as possible.”

The room is filled with murmurs, disbelief evident on every face. Charles takes one last look around, his eyes filled with pain, and turns to leave.

You follow closely, feeling the weight of every step as you exit the debrief room.

The second you’re around the corner, Charles breaks down. He rests his forehead against the wall, tears rolling down his face silently. “I didn’t ... I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”

You pull him close and try to find the right words. “It was never going to be easy. But you did what you had to. For yourself. For your future.”

He turns to look at you, eyes red-rimmed but determined. “I just wanted to make them proud.”

You cup his cheek, wiping away a tear with your thumb. “They would be proud of you. Not for the badge you wear or the car you drive but for the man you’ve become.”

Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you into a tight embrace. The two of you stand there for a moment, finding solace in each other’s presence.

When he finally pulls away, he manages a weak smile. “Thank you. For standing by me.”

You squeeze his hand. “Always.”

***

Charles stands in front of the massive two-story trophy wall at the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes, eyes wide with wonder. “Ferrari would never do something so ... gaudy.”

You smirk, sidling up next to him. “And yet, you love it.”

“I do,” he laughs. “It’s … different.”

You lean in, whispering conspiratorially, “Well, Ferrari hasn’t had all that much to exhibit in the last two decades. Not for lack of trying from the drivers, of course.”

He playfully nudges you with his elbow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Cheeky.”

The two of you walk further into the factory. “So,” Charles draws out, “I was wondering if you could recommend a good real estate agent in the area.”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Why would you need an agent when I have a perfectly good apartment we can share?”

“Really? Are you sure? I just … I wasn’t sure if you would want that and I don’t want to pressure you.”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Of course I do, Charles. It’s not even a question.”

He smiles, the weight of the decision to move seeming a little lighter now. “Thank you.”

You wink, taking his hand. “Come on, let me show you around.”

As you guide him through the factory, he’s like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. “This place is incredible,” he murmurs, running a hand along a piece of machinery.

You grin, pulling him towards the simulator room. “Wait until you see this.”

He steps inside, eyes immediately drawn to the impressive simulator setup. “Wow.”

You gesture for him to sit down, watching as he takes a seat, adjusting the settings. “Ready for your first sim run in the RB20?”

He nods eagerly, “Let’s do it.”

As he starts the simulation, you watch closely, monitoring the data and providing feedback. The two of you work seamlessly together, the connection between race engineer and driver already forming and growing.

After several runs, Charles steps out of the simulator, a huge grin on his face. “That was incredible! The car feels amazing.”

You smile. “I’m glad you think so. The team has put a lot of work into it.”

He pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. “I can’t wait to get on track with you on the other side of the radio.”

You pull back, looking into his eyes. “Me too. We’re going to do great things together. I know it.”

He nods. “I know we will too.”

***

“I have to admit,” Charles says, eyes scanning the paddock, “I’m thankful that Mercedes and McLaren are between our motorhome and Ferrari’s. Makes things less ... awkward.”

You glance towards the distant red of the mobile Ferrari building, understanding the sentiment. “Must be weird being so close and yet so far.”

He nods, a hint of melancholy in his gaze as he looks at the place he called home for so long. “It’s bittersweet.”

Pulling him from his thoughts, you nudge him playfully. “Come on, Mr. Pole-Sitter. We have a race to prep for.”

Charles smirks, playfully rolling his eyes. “Always so professional, Miss Horner.”

You grin. “Only when it counts.”

The atmosphere in the Red Bull garage is electric. Mechanics and engineers hustle around, getting everything ready. The RB20 sits gleaming, waiting for its moment to shine.

Charles adjusts his gloves, taking a deep breath. “Feels different,” he admits, looking at you. “Being here, in this car, with this team. But a good kind of different.”

You lean in, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’ve got this. It’s just another race.”

He smiles. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one in the hot seat.”

“True, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. Just listen to my voice and trust me.”

“I always do.”

As he gets into the car, you lean in closer to his helmet, your lips touching it’s hard shell. “And Charles? Stay safe out there.”

He looks at you and winks. “I’ll come back to you.”

The race begins with a burst of energy. Charles takes off from pole, holding his position as the field jockeys for placement behind him.

“Good start,” you say through the radio, your voice calm and composed. “Keep it steady.”

“Copy.”

The race is intense, with Charles and Max battling for the lead, their cars dancing on the edge of perfection. The radio chatter between the two of you flows naturally, filled with technical details, strategy adjustments, and the occasional personal quip.

“Feeling the heat from Max?” You tease after a particularly close call between the two Red Bulls.

Charles laughs breathlessly. “Just keeping things interesting for the fans.”

The race continues at a blistering pace, with Charles and Max pushing each other to the limit. But through it all, Charles remains in the lead, with you guiding him from the pit wall.

“Final lap,” you inform. “Bring it home.”

He nods, pushing the car to its limit. The cheers of the crowd grow louder as he crosses the finish line, securing his first victory with Red Bull.

“Amazing job, Charles! I knew you could do it!”

He lets out a whoop of joy. “Yes! Thank you, team. Thank you, Y/N. I couldn’t have done it without you all.”

The two of you celebrate the victory, and as the rose water sprays and the cheers of the crowd fill the air, you know that this is just the beginning of an incredible journey together.

***

“You’re sure about the medium tyres, Y/N?” Charles asks nervously as he looks at the other cars lining up. “Everyone else is starting on softs.”

You nod confidently, tapping the race strategy on your clipboard. “Yes. The upside of using the mediums is it gives us flexibility. We can extend our first stint if needed, especially with possible rain on the forecast. While everyone else has to pit early for hards and then again for inters when the rain starts, we’ll only have to pit once. Trust me.”

He inhales deeply, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside. “I do trust you. It’s just ... Ferrari ... the strategies there ...”

“I know,” you interrupt softly, understanding the trauma and distrust years with Ferrari had instilled in him. “But this isn’t Ferrari. It’s Red Bull and we work differently. I’ve got your back.”

“Alright,” he looks into your eyes, finding assurance and conviction there, “let’s do this.”

The race begins, and Charles holds his ground well on the medium tyres, though the drivers running softs initially show quicker pace. But as predicted, the clouds soon darken and the threat of rain becomes increasingly evident.

“Stay focused,” you guide through the radio. “Remember the plan.”

He pushes on, expertly handling the streets of Monaco. The cars around him begin to lose grip and one by one they dive into the pits for hard tyres.

Charles keeps lapping. He moves up the order.

“You’re doing great,” you encourage. “Stick to the plan. We’re right on schedule.”

However, as the first raindrops begin to fall, panic sets in among the other teams on the grid. Those who just pitted for hard tyres are forced to pit again for intermediate tyres, losing precious time.

“Now,” you command, “Box this lap.”

He follows your instruction, driving into the pits, and with a flawless stop by his Red Bull crew, re-emerges in the lead.

The rain continues but Charles navigates the treacherous streets of Monaco expertly, maintaining his lead. When the chequered flag waves, it’s Charles who crosses the line first and finally claims victory at his home Grand Prix.

Tears of joy and relief pour from Charles’ eyes as he takes in the moment. “Thank you,” he says over the radio, voice choked with emotion. “I can’t believe it. We did it in Monaco!”

You smile, tears in your own eyes. “We did. I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”

He laughs, the sound full of pure joy. “You did. And I’m so glad I did. Thank you for everything.”

As he steps out of the car and jumps on its nose, arms spread wide, the crowd roars in approval, their prince finally crowned in his home race.

Then he rushes to the barriers and jumps into the cheering crowd of dark blue waiting for him. When his sweaty lips find yours surrounded by the celebrating Red Bull team, you take a moment to whisper a promise, “This is just the beginning. It will only get better from here.”

***

The season flies by in a blur of champagne showers. Heading into the Italian Grand Prix, Charles find himself leading the Drivers’ Championship with Max nipping at his heels.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Charles confesses, staring out at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. “This was home. I don’t know how they will react now that I’m no longer wearing red.”

You rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Many fans support the driver, not just the color he wears.”

He takes a deep breath and looks over the crowd. “The Tifosi are different. They bleed Ferrari red. I’m afraid they will see me only as a traitor.”

“You gave them your all,” you counter. “They’ve seen the struggles. They know why you left. They understand. Trust in them and in yourself.”

As the two of you make your way towards the paddock, the familiar chorus of cheers fills the air. But instead of the jeers and boos he feared, a chant begins to rise among the crowd of red: “Charles! Charles! Charles!”

Charles stops in his tracks. “They’re ... they’re cheering for me.”

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “Told you.”

He’s soon swarmed by a group of fans, all clamoring for autographs, photos, and just a moment of his time. It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi remains unbroken.

An older fan steps forward, his Ferrari cap worn with age. “You are still Il Predestinato. We wish it ended differently but we have eyes. We watched the races. We know why you left. No matter what team you drive for, you always have our hearts.”

Charles blinks back tears, deeply touched. “Grazie,” he whispers and claps the fan’s weathered hands in thanks.

Another fan, a young girl with a homemade sign that reads Once a Tifosi, Always a Tifosi, shyly approaches. “We still love you, Charles,” she says.

He kneels down to give her a gentle hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs, taking off his Red Bull cap and placing it on her head.

As the day goes on, the support from the Tifosi only grows. They cheer for him during practice, during qualifying, and every time he appears in front of the stands.

It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi is as strong as ever.

That evening, as the two of you sit in the garage looking over data, Charles reflects on his day. “I was so afraid,” he admits. “Afraid of being rejected, of losing their love. But today ... today was incredible.”

You close the analytics. “The Tifosi love you. Not because of the car you drive or the colors you wear but because of who you are. Just like I do.”

He nods slowly. “It’s overwhelming. Monza has always been special to me. To feel this level of love and support ... it’s more than I ever expected.”

You lean closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “They see your passion. They see how much you give on and off the track. Anyone who does not love and respect you for that needs to reconsider.”

He exhales slowly, “I just ... I wanted to make them proud, to win for them in red and bring glory back to Maranello. But knowing they still support me no matter what ... it means everything.”

You look up into his eyes. “And they always will. Because they know you always gave and will continue to give your best. They love you because they are loved in return.”

He laughs, pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. “For always being my rock, especially in moments like these.”

“Now let’s go out there tomorrow and win.”

***

“Vegas, baby!” Charles shouts, swinging an arm around your shoulders, both of you holding champagne glasses that have been refilled one too many times.

You giggle, distinctly feeling all of the alcohol you’ve consumed. “We won! We did it!”

Charles laughs, pulling you closer. “We did! And do you know what people do when they’re in love and win in Vegas?”

You think about it for a moment, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes. “Get ... married?”

Charles nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! Y/N Horner, will you marry me tonight?”

You don’t hesitate, “Hell yes!”

The two of you, in your drunken stupor, begin your mission to find a wedding chapel. However, before you can get very far, Max spots you and quickly catches on to what you’re planning.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Max exclaims, grabbing Charles by the shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going with Y/N?”

Charles replies with a sloppy grin, “To make her Mrs. Leclerc!”

Max bursts into laughter, trying to play the voice of reason. “Mate, as much fun as that sounds, I think you might want to sleep on that idea.”

But you’re not having it. “No, Max! We’re in love and it’s Vegas. We’re doing it!”

Before the conversation can escalate further, your father joins the fray, looking both amused and concerned. “What on earth is going on here?”

Max chuckles, “Your daughter and Charles here have some ... ambitious plans for the evening.”

You pout and stumble slightly, “Daddy, we want to get married! Right now!”

Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Married? Tonight? Seriously?”

Charles nods with absolute seriousness, though his precarious swaying contradicts his tone. “Christian, I love your daughter. And we won. In Vegas. So ... wedding?”

Your father places a firm hand on his driver’s shoulder. “Listen, Charles, I have no doubt about your feelings for Y/N. But my baby girl deserves the world. When and if you ever decide to propose, I expect you to get down on one knee, stone-cold sober, and ask her properly.”

Charles blinks, processing the words. “But ... Vegas?”

You laugh and go to hug your father, almost falling over in the process. “He’s right. Let’s just enjoy tonight. And if we still feel like getting married in the morning, we can discuss it then.”

Max smirks, “Trust me, you’ll thank us in the morning. If you can even remember this conversation, that is.”

***

“Charles,” you begin, your voice echoing in his helmet, “The team has made the call. You and Max are free to race. No team orders.”

There’s a pause on the other end. “Understood. May the best man win.”

The tension in the garage skyrockets as soon as the lights go out. It’s evident that this is going to be an epic battle from the very first turn. Max and Charles swap places multiple times, pushing their cars to the very edge of their limits.

“Breathe,” you remind him calmly as the laps go by, “Don’t loose sight of the race as a whole. There’s a championship at stake.”

The entire race is a blur of overtakes, pit strategies, and nail-biting moments. The two Red Bull cars battle wheel-to-wheel lap after lap. One side of the garage against the other.

Coming into the final laps, Charles is right on Max’s tail — the championship hanging in the balance between them.

You know there’s not much you can do to guide him anymore … it’s all up to Charles.

“Last lap,” you try to sound composed despite the pounding of your heart. “You can do this.”

The cheers and gasps of the crowd are deafening as Charles makes his move, taking the inside line and overtaking Max on the penultimate turn.

“Push now! Just a few more corners.”

As Charles crosses the finish line, the enormity of the moment crashes over both of you.

“Charles Leclerc,” you scream over the radio as tears stream down your face, “you are the World Champion!”

“Yeeeesssss! Yes! Yes! I ... I can’t believe it. This is ... thank you, everyone. To the entire Red Bull team, you’ve given me the chance to chase and achieve my dreams. To my friends, my family, to every single person who’s been by my side, believed in me, and supported me … thank you. And Y/N, you’ve been my rock and my oxygen. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible. Thank you! Thank you. Thank you so much!”

***

“Whew! That was a lot of rose water!” Charles laughs, wiping the bubbly liquid from his eyes.

You chuckle and try to wring out your hair. “You didn’t have to drench me, you know!”

Charles grins cheekily. “It’s a special occasion, after all. Both of us on this podium? It’s a dream!”

Then suddenly, he turns serious and signals to his brother in the crowd below, who throws him a small leather box. Charles catches it and promptly lowers himself down on one knee in front of you, making the crowd fall into a stunned silence.

“I tried this in Vegas,” he starts with a laugh, “But I might have been too drunk and missed a few pretty important steps.”

Charles takes a deep breath and his eyes lock onto yours, saying everything that words would never be sufficient to. “Y/N, being on this podium with you, winning the World Championship, it’s the pinnacle of my career. But what we have ... it’s the pinnacle of my life. I can’t imagine going on this journey with anyone else, facing the highs, the lows, the in-betweens. Will you marry me?”

Tears flow steadily down your cheeks and you nod with a fervor that would make bobbleheads jealous, “Yes! There’s no one else I’d want to spend forever with.”

The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, the deafening roar echoing around the Yas Marina Circuit. Max gives a loud whistle, his face lit up with a big grin next to you on the podium stage.

Charles rises to his feet and pulls you close, attacking your lips as the crowd goes wild.

“Promise me we won’t head to a chapel right after this race?” You joke, sniffling and giggling at the same time.

Charles laughs, looking slightly sheepish. “I promise, mainly because I’m too young to die and your father would definitely kill me if I even thought about pulling the stunt we tried in Vegas again. You deserve a fairytale wedding.”

You press your face against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat as fireworks explode overhead. “All I need for my fairytale is you.”

4K notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Text

The Taste of Temptation {3} || DR3

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Summary: Pierre enjoys winding Danny up with rumours, and Danny enjoys his recompense with your body. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, age gap (13 years) reader is 20, smut, smut, alcohol, smut, ass play, dom!daniel, bond*ge, overstimulation WC: 3.7k F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

Round Fourteen - Netherlands You had been minding your own business, enjoying a cool glass of fruit juice to combat the rising temperature of the day. The Red Bull motorhome was unusually quiet as you sat down at an empty table, so much so that you didn’t even notice the hush that fell over the few members of staff that were around setting up for the week ahead.

Something hit your neck and a sudden roar almost deafened your ear as the shock turned to a flash of pain. You jolted out of your seat, tipping it over, and clutched the burning skin below your ear as you saw a dark blue shirt disappear out the door, the number 10 printed on his back.

“What the hell was that?” you asked as you used your phone as a mirror. “What the fuck! GASLYYY!!!!!”

A deep purple circle was growing on your skin where he had pressed the end of a hoover against it, the bright red vacuum now discarded on the floor in the culprits rush to get away. The powerful suction had instantly brought your blood to the surface and it looked like a huge hickey, and Daniel was just walking in.

You slapped your hand over the mark and saw the team members of his that were still around stifle their laughs.

“What’s so funny?” he asked with a grin.

“Pierre just gave her a hickey,” Calum, a friendly technician, managed to admit as he pointed to your hand. “Then he boosted it out of here, never seen an Alpine go so fast.”

Daniel didn’t laugh along with the rest as his fingers curled around your wrist and pulled your hand away. His eyes narrowed at the offensive mark before darting to the vacuum still running on the floor behind your chair. The stupid smile and big, round eyes on the plastic shell only seemed to grow more mocking the longer he looked at it.

“It was just a silly joke,” you said softly.

“Very funny.” He forced a smile but his eyes kept flickering back to your neck and you shivered as he ran his tongue along his teeth and leaned closer so no one could overhear his promise. “But only I get to mark you, kitten.”

Daniel got his recompense when you returned to the hotel mid afternoon. There was a few hours of down time before there was a small get together planned, nothing too crazy since media day started in the morning and no one wanted to be hungover for that.

“Shhh, kitten, the walls aren’t that thick.”

With the curtains drawn it was impossible to tell how long had passed, how long it had been since Danny tied your wrists to your ankles and subjected you to such immense pleasure you couldn’t remember your name.

His fingers were cool against your hot skin as he brushed your hair back from your sweaty forehead before they softly tweaked your nipple piercing and another gasp slipped past the strap of leather you were biting.

The rave music filling the room was set to overwhelm yet another of your senses but it couldn’t hide the sounds you were making and it was a wonder that all of the Netherlands didn’t know what he was doing to you. You didn’t even know what he was doing to you, there was only one orgasm rolling into the next as your tears wet the pillow beneath your head.

Toys littered the bed and Danny had taken his time to enjoy ruining you with them all.

Your ass throbbed around the metal plug he had worked you up to taking, his words of courage helping you to push through the gasping breaths you filled your lungs with as he stretched you to the limit. The cry of relief that had erupted when the plug slid home, and the sight of your hole clenching around the narrow handle, had been enough for him to come again and the warm ropes of his release had splayed across your breasts.

If you could move you would have run your fingers through it, gathering the viscous mess so you could taste it on your tongue. That was where he had finished earlier and where he would possibly finish again, because before you knew it he was hard again.

“Please,” you whimpered as he pressed a bullet to your clit, the vibrations making more tears stream down your cheeks as intense tremors rocked your entire body and your ankles screamed for mercy. “I need to come.”

“Soon, kitten.”

Daniel shifted to lay between your spread legs, his breath hot on your cunt as he tasted the essence dripping from your swollen lips. His fingers soon replaced his tongue and the lewd sounds of them pumping in and out of you only added to the overwhelming experience.

Two fingers, then three. Each snap of his wrist buried them deeper and each time he brushed against the butt plug and pushed it further. Stars danced across your vision and you couldn’t hold back any longer as your pussy spasmed around his fingers before they were gone and his tongue lapped at his reward as it escaped your folds.

“I didn’t say you could-”

Your body fell slack against the restraints as you lost all ability to think, see or hear and you floated away on the high.

When you came back to your senses you were tucked under the blankets with Daniel’s body curled behind you, his arm draped over your waist. His beard tickled your shoulder and he pressed a soft kiss upon it when he felt you wake. Every part of you ached in a way that could never actually hurt and you sighed with contentment as you rolled over to face your boyfriend.

“How long was I out?”

“About half an hour,” he said with a proud little smile as he pulled your leg over his hip as you felt his hard length teasing along your entrance. “I think that’s a new record.”

Your body felt empty without the toys and you looked around to see them neatly lined up on a towel drying. As messy as Daniel liked to get, he also liked to clean up after and you could feel your skin was no longer slick with sweat or sticky with his release that had painted your skin. He had taken care of it all after you had passed out.

“How bad is it?” you asked when you caught his fixated stare on your neck but he grabbed your hand when you reached up to touch the tender area.

“Don’t hide it, kitten. You can cover up Gasly’s but not mine.”

You rolled your hips and smirked when his lips parted with a deep breath as his sensitive head started to slip inside you, just an inch. “You are so petty.”

“You’re mine and I have to mark my territory,” he said before snapping his hips forward and stealing your breath as he bit your bottom lip. “It’s just biology, baby.”

“Have you been watching the Discovery Channel again?” you teased as your eyes fluttered shut.

Daniel laughed as rolled you to your back and tugged your other leg over his hip too before pinning your hands to the headboard. “There’s something satisfying about seeing a hunter subdue his prey.” His head dipped to yours and a shiver spread goosebumps across your skin when he grazed his teeth over your racing pulse. “Seeing how vulnerable she is up against such a beast.”

You arched your back and pushed your breasts up, silently begging him to trail his lips further down to them. He was gentle this time, swirling his tongue over the sensitive peaks knowing they would be tender. Everywhere was tender so he was taking his time with you, enjoying the long, slow strokes that made you feel every single inch of his cock as it filled you.

“She’s only vulnerable to him,” you moaned as you dragged your fingers through his hair and tugged the damp strands.

Daniel’s honey brown eyes said far more than his lips did as they curled up into a soft smile that made your stomach flip. “A lion and a kitten.”

He released your hands so he could run his own down your arm and over your collarbone to cup your cheek, the calluses on his palms tickling your skin along the way. His hand was so large it cradled your entire jaw and his thumb stroked your kiss-swollen lips before he took them for his own.

There was never a fight for dominance with him, your lips just parted as if he were the elixir of life and you were dying of thirst. He was intoxicating and addictive, unlike anyone you had been with before and he completely consumed your consciousness, filling every waking thought before infiltrating your dreams too.

You lost all sense of self with him, yet he had helped you explore your body and find so much more. And you also had lessons to teach him.

“Lions don’t actually hunt,” you murmured as you lay your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat thumping rhythmically in your ear. “It’s the females that do the hunting. The male is just there to fuck.”

Your muscled pillow bounced as he laughed, his fingers along your spine pausing their relaxing dance. “I like that even better. What can you tell me about the honey badger?”

You pushed up onto your elbow, resting your chin on your hand so he could see the amusement on your face. “The honey badger is a cheeky creature who is very territorial and gets quite jealous over little things.”

“Is that right?” he dared you to continue with the lifting of one eyebrow and a smirk on his lips.

“Mhmm, but don’t let the cuteness fool you, there’s a fighting spirit beneath all that fur,” you teased, running your fingers through the dark triangle of curls that grew over his sternum. “And six nipples. Oh, did you think I was talking about you?”

His smirk broke into a bright smile that reached his sparkling eyes as his laugh filled the room. “You never know, I might have six nipples and just be very good at hiding them.”

You snorted a laugh and buried your face into the crook of his neck, squeezing your arms around his waist. “No, you would happily parade them about if you had that many.”

Danny placed a soft kiss atop your head before resting his cheek upon it with a happy sigh. “You know me so well.”

“Hey Nips,” Pierre greeted with a grin as he bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently. “You haven’t blocked me on Insta have you?”

“I will if you keep calling me Nips,” you warned as you pulled your phone out of your clutch and checked the app you had muted the notifications for and groaned. “Seriously?”

The Frenchman's laugh was insufferable as you saw what he had uploaded while Daniel returned to your side after chatting with Valterri, never straying too far away from you. The video wasn’t great quality considering Pierre had been running full pelt through the paddock with a vacuum plugged into a massive extension lead but you could still make out the path to Red Bull’s hospitality.

You saw yourself sitting at a table sipping your juice in peace before he flicked the vacuum on and a look of shock fell over your face when it sucked your neck into the nozzle. Unable to resist now that he had more than made up for it, Daniel chuckled in your ear at the video and you jutted your elbow back to check him in the ribs.

The next picture he posted made you roll your eyes before you saw an opportunity and sent a reply before locking the phone and slipping it back into your clutch as Daniel’s laugh grew even louder. “There’s those claws, kitty.”

You regretted opening the app as you were still thinking about the other notifications you had seen and they left you distracted. It wasn’t anything new and they weren’t often malicious but the rumours were just irritating. Every single post you were tagged in by one of the drivers inevitably led to people thinking you were dating them.

It was only Pierre who did it on purpose for his own amusement, knowing how possessive Daniel was towards you. It was like he just wanted to push his buttons and see how long it took for him to snap and make the relationship public. There had been talks of it, after collapsing into bed, high off an orgasm, but then nothing happened.

The rumours were still playing on your mind when the group moved to the large round table and you saw the name on the seating chart next to yours.

“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Danny asked as he sat to your left, his hand disappearing under the table to slide up the slit of your dress to your thigh, his thumb drawing soothing circles over the bare skin.

“Nothing, I’m just a little tired.” You weren’t lying completely, you could have done with a lot more sleep after what he put you through.

“Have you been boring Nips, mate?” Pierre asked as he dropped into the chair beside you, likely having paid off a waitress to have his name card put on your table. A smarmy smile played at his lips and he trailed a finger around the rim of his glass, the crystal humming quietly, as his other arm draped over the back of your chair. “You weren’t bored in Paris with me, were you?”

Danny’s fingers tightened around your thigh and you fought back the gasp as his nails dug half-moons into your skin. “Do you want to tell him why you’re tired or should we let him use his imagination?”

You hid your laugh behind your hand and Pierre’s interest only grew as he leaned closer. “I don’t think he is creative enough to imagine everything we did. Maybe I’ll tell Kika and she can surprise him.”

A dopey smile crossed his face at the mention of his girlfriend before a camera flashed and he sat back in his seat with a huff of annoyance at the photographer. “I thought they weren’t allowed at these things.”

You shrugged and accepted the glass of wine Danny took from a passing waitress. “Netflix wants a taste of everything this year, all the behind the scenes shots. Just be grateful you don’t have to wear microphones.”

“I dunno, could be entertaining as hell,” Daniel chuckled as he teased his fingers along the edge of your panties. “But they would have to censor 99% of what happens outside of the paddock. For us at least.”

“We get it, you guys have sex,” Lando said with a roll of his eyes as he arrived late and dropped into the seat beside Daniel, Carlos on the other side of him. “Sup, what’d I miss?”

“Nothing much. Pierre got schooled on Insta, and we are going public,” Daniel casually stated, your head whipping around towards him as he shrugged with a smile. “What? It was bothering you and it’ll shut him up too.”

Instead of looking annoyed that his fun was coming to an end, Pierre laughed and let his arm slip off your chair. “About time. Pay up, Norris.”

Lando groaned and fished his wallet out his pocket, his fingers flicking through the cash before taking it all. “You couldn’t have waited one more week? I’m a bit light. Can I get you the rest tomorrow?”

You curled an eyebrow as the money exchanged hands in front of you and you reached out, taking one of the €100 notes from Pierre. “My cut for using my relationship for your gains.”

“Well, if I’m losing five grand on this I want to see the evidence,” Lando said as he started unfolding and refolding the swan-shaped napkin in front of him. “Or I’ll have it back, thanks, with interest.”

“You’re not getting this back,” you stated as you shoved the cash into your bra before fetching your phone from the table. “My employers are cheap bastards.”

Pierre laughed with a shake of his head, knowing you had one of Danny’s credit cards and that he would never let you spend a cent of your own money while you were with him. It was the same amongst all the drivers, they spoiled their partners and enjoyed providing everything one could want or need. They didn’t see it as being ‘used’.

“There,” you grinned as Daniel’s phone beeped with a notification you had posted on Instagram. “The not-so-secret secret is out.”

“Let the chaos begin.”

Daniel’s hand disappeared from your thigh and you instantly missed the warmth before he reached for your nape. His fingers tightened their grip as he drew you closer and your breath hitched as you saw the possessive glint in his eyes before he crushed his lips to yours. The room was forgotten as he took all your focus and your phone fell to your lap so you could grab the lapels of his collar and deepen the kiss.

Ten seconds or ten minutes could have passed by the time you parted breathlessly and as your eyes fluttered open they were blinded by the flashed of the cameras aimed your way. Daniel smirked and pulled the finger at them, causing another bright burst of flashes. “Fuck ‘em all.”

“People will talk.”

Your tongue wet your lips before you dared him. “Let them.”

His eyes drifted down your body before he dragged them slowly back up. “They’ll say you’re too young.”

“Age is just a number.” You used his own words against him, the words that had lingered in your mind since he had said them to you the first day you met.

“They’ll say you only got your job because of me.”

A small giggle bubbled up as your fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll show them my degree.”

“You have all the answers, don’t you, kitten?” he smirked.

“No, there’s still one I’m waiting on...”

The moment hung suspended in the air as his brown eyes searched your face for the answer and he swore under his breath. “Fuck ‘em all. You’re mine.”

Daniel’s teeth nipped at your earlobe and you inhaled sharply at the bolt of lightning that struck your core, tightening your stomach as it flipped in response. “You’re mine, kitten, all mine.”

You couldn’t even form a response as your back pressed against the wall and he pinned you there with his hips. The denim he wore did little to hide the hard length that he ground against your core and you trembled with anticipation.

“Please, Danny,” you begged unabashedly. You had fantasised over this moment since you had met him but nothing could prepare you for the reality. Your eyes screwed shut as his zip brushed over your clit and your lips parted at the sensitive touch, a keening whine slipping from them, “Pleeease.”

Your arms tightened around his neck as he stepped away from the wall and carried you to the bed, swiping the half empty wine bottle as he passed the coffee table. The mattress rushed up to meet you and he smirked down at you as he used his knee to spread your legs wider.

“This isn’t champagne but we’ll make it work.” His fingers curled around the bottleneck and his thumb covered the hole so he could control the flow as he started to pour it over you. You jolted at the difference in temperature and the red potation started to snake across your skin with each small movement you made.

“It’s going to stain the bedding,” you whispered as you tried to hold your breath so it didn’t displace even more.

“Wine will be the least of their worries,” he teased as he dipped his head down and lashed his tongue across your stomach, dipping it into your belly button where the wine had pooled until he had licked it clean. Your stomach clenched when he rolled his eyes up your body to look at you and you swore you almost came from that image alone.

You were heady as he made his way up your body, trailing a dribble of wine between the valley of your breasts before chasing it with his tongue. His thumb traced your lips, parting them as he tipped the bottle up to fill your mouth until it overflowed. The bottle was carelessly discarded and a large hand caught your chin, tipping it back before he sealed his mouth over yours and shared the flavour of the wine on your tongue.

You silenced your phone from the incessant notifications that hadn’t stopped all evening and tossed it onto the coffee table. Dropping onto the sofa in the quiet hotel, you swirled the topped up red wine around your glass mindlessly and wondered what you had gotten yourself into.

“It’ll die down, as soon as something new comes along.” Daniel fell into the space beside you and took the wine stem from your hands, sipping it before placing it on the table and pulling you onto his lap. His hair was still damp from the shower he had just had and every few seconds a droplet would break free from the strands and run down his neck. “You’re not regretting it, are you?”

There was a touch of vulnerability in his tone that he tried to hide with a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. You cupped his face and brushed your thumbs over the creases that were deeper when he truly smiled and shook your head. “A little apprehensive of what’s to come,” you admitted with a whisper. “But I’m proud to be yours, you make me happy.”

“That’s all that matters to me.” He guided your head to his shoulder and you relaxed as your body moulded to fit against him perfectly. This was your safe place and your soul recognised that as the late hour instantly caught up with you. A tired yawn clicked the joint of your jaw and your eyes grew heavy as you nuzzled your face closer to his neck. “And what do we say if someone has a problem?”

“Fuck them,” your murmured sleepily, making his shoulders bounce with a silent laugh.

“That’s right, kitten,” he whispered across your skin as his lips rested on your forehead. “Fuck ‘em all.”

Click here for part four.

Tagging: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm

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toppersjeep · 6 months

Text

Part 3 Where Do We Go Now- Lando Norris X Reader

Masterlist

(tag list @landologg @aundercover )

Your POV

“Max” I said. “Yeah love what’s up” Max said setting his phone down. “Can I ask you a question” I said. “Yeah go on” Max said. “We’ve been together four years and I just wanna know” I said.

“Wanna know what Y/N” Max said. “Is this business or something” I said. “What do you mean by that” Max said. “You know what I’m referring to how did Red Bull get my strategy for Lando” I said. “Y/N are you seriously asking me if I took your strategy and gave it away” Max said.

“Yes Max.. I’m asking you if you took it.. because every since we’ve been together this has happened more than once..” I said yelling. “Don’t yell we are in the paddock” Max said. “What Max is everyone gonna hear how you are” I said.

“You know it’s always about Lando Norris with you and I’m sick of it” Max said. “Oh deflecting I see.. when you can’t admit what you’ve done” I said. “Do you even actually love me” I said. He didn’t say anything to me. “How can you ask that question” Max said.

“Tell me one thing you love about me” I said. “Seriously right now” Max said. “Yeah tell me” I said. “You know that I love you I don’t need to prove anything” Max said. “Then what is all of this” I said showing him two letters.

“I’ve never seen those before” Max said. “So you didn’t write me letters Max” I said. “Do I look like I have the time to do that” Max said. “You’ve always cared about your job more than me” I said. “You know you are being very selfish right now” Max said.

“Does me standing up to you bother you Max I’m tired of this bullshit” I said. “If your tired of it then you know what” Max said. “What Max say it” I said tearing up. “I’m breaking up with you I can’t handle all this stupid drama” Max said.

“Seriously” I said. “Yeah it’s over Y/N I’m tired of this blaming me because you lost .. your team sucks” Max said. “What..” I said. “You heard me clearly and you need to go” Max said. “Max” I said. “Leave Y/N go bitch somewhere else” Max said. “Go fuck yourself” I said slamming the door shut.

I then walked out of the Red Bull paddock crying. I walked through a crowd of people. Running into someone nearly knocking them over.

“Ah Gasly always running around” Carlos said. “S..sorry Carlos” I said teary eyed. “Why are you crying mi amour” Carlos said. “One of those days” I said. “Oh no no let’s go find Lando” Carlos said walking with me. We walked back to the McLaren paddock.

Lando was sitting at the table having some coffee.

“Carlos what a nice surprise mate” Lando said. “Y/N ran into me crying so” Carlos said. “Why are you upset” Lando said. “I don’t know but I figured you’d get help her” Carlos said. “Yeah come on” Lando said. We then went into his driver room.

I sat on a chair. He sat across from me.

“What’s going on” Lando said. I said nothing just sighed and sniffled. “We can just be silent too or cry you know” Lando said. “Crying is super therapeutic apparently” Lando said.

“I cry all the time too” Lando said I laughed. “There she is” Lando said cupping my cheek. “Max..” I said. “He broke up with you” Lando said. I nodded. He then pulled me into a hug. “You don’t have to say anything” Lando said rubbing my back. “I feel like I just wasted four years on him” I said.

“Sometimes people fall in love with the wrong person” Lando said. “So you’ve been in my place” I said. “Yeah I mean it sucks it really does” Lando said. “And I know that it will get better day by day” Lando said. “Now I gotta find a place to live too” I said.

“Well you can live with me I guess” Lando said. “No I couldn’t do that Lan” I said looking at him. “Listen to me I insist that you do” Lando said. “Okay fine” I said he smiled. “You know I have your back always okay” Lando said.

“Yeah thank you umm.. I should get working on your new race strategies” I said getting up. “Did you ever figure out who’s sending the gifts” Lando said. “No it’s not Max” I said. “Really he said he didn’t” Lando questioned. “I mean maybe it’s someone else in the paddock” I said.

“Could be you do have many people who like you” Lando said. “Yeah remember Charles crush on me” I said. “Yeah I do we still pick on him” Lando said. “I’ll figure it out eventually.. if you need me I’ll be in my office lan” I said walking out.

I went to my office. I tried to work on these racing strategies for Lando. But part of me wanted to know who was writing these letters. And giving me gifts. I looked at the second letter again for clues.

The second letter:

Dear Y/N, have I ever told you how beautiful you look everyday even when you aren’t trying. You are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen. And one of the kindest people. I hate how people assume you can’t do your job because your a woman in this field. If I’m being honest you are the best at it better than any man. In fact I think you could out race me with all your strategies that you have. You are one of the smartest people too. It amazes me the things you know. I could listen to you talk for hours on end. I love your voice and french accent. I especially love your laugh and how I can make you laugh at any given moment. I’ve said it before but I wish you could see yourself in my eyes. Only then would you realize how special you are.

___

So they know that I race. And they know they I am a race strategist. But I don’t tell many people about these strategies. Only Lando and Oscar.

But it can’t be Oscar because he has a girlfriend. Well at least last I knew he did. But it could be Charles because he’s asked me for help before.

“What are you working on chéri” Charles said walking into my office. “Trying to figure out a mystery” I said. “What’s the mystery” Charles said sitting across from me. “I’ve been getting these love letters I know it sounds silly” I said he smiled.

“Love letters that’s really romantic” Charles said. “It’s not Max and well we broke up” I said. “You did” Charles said. “Yeah well that’s not the point Cha” I said. “These the letters” he said looking at them. “Yes I just can’t figure out who it is” I said.

“Whoever this is they are clearly in love with you” Charles said. “It’s not you” I said. “I mean I like you but I’d take you out.. not do all this” Charles said. “Oh” I said. “Sorry to ruin your fantasies but it’s not me” Charles said.

“Well then it’s down to two people I guess” I said. “Can I say something” Charles said. “Yeah” I said. “This person is closer to you than you think” Charles said. “What do you mean” I said.

“I’m saying the person who wrote these is someone who’s always there” Charles said. “Someone who’s always watching” Charles added. “What are you saying” I said. “Chéri… look around you.. and figure it out” Charles said setting the letters down.

“Are you saying” I said he looked at me and smiled. “I’m saying that this guy would do anything for you.. and he always has” Charles said leaving the room. And that left me to think.

There was only one person that I know who’d literally do anything for me. And he’d do anything to keep me happy.

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