lxclerc - Tumblr blog

[lxclerc]

Hey, some of the links in your fic recs aren't working. The ones that don't work start with at.tumblr.com (eg:- https://at.tumblr.com/jamminvroomvroom/cl-x-femreader-read-part-2-a-fruit-basket-and-a/fo1hr73hlviv) and the ones that start normally (without the at. part are all working). Is there something wrong on my end? What does the at. mean?

hi i think its because the author’s changed their users. ill get around to fixing it eventually but ill have to find them all first

[lxclerc]

leo leclerc you will always be famous

[lxclerc]

reposting someone’s work without their permission is stealing. it is plagiarism

what really fucking irks me about people plagiarising (yes, fucking plagiarising! that’s what it is!) works that us writers pour our time and heart into is the shitty notes like “all work is credited! let me know if you want it taken down” as if they’re doing us a favour.

do. not. steal. people’s. work! it’s not rocket science. i don’t want your credit! it means nothing to me without my permission!

[lxclerc]

…would you guys still love me if i change my theme to max

[lxclerc]

yeah this fic pretty much ruined me 😭😭😭😭 im always a fan of a desperate, selfish love and then eventually learning how to be the type of love that the other person needed and this captures that so well.

max loved her so much he would have burned the world down to keep her by his side even though she herself wants to leave and learn how to not be in his shadow and he doesn’t realize that desperately holding on to her to holding her back from her own dreams.

but also “i’ll retire for you” im forever a sucker for the id give anything up for you trope 😭😭😭

this whole thing was such a beautiful rollercoaster i cant even deal with myself

—seven days. [ i ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: not beta-read. not edited. enjoy reading.

masterlist.

You are not surprised when Max Verstappen won the 2023 Formula One season. Given how he dominated each Grand Prix in the season, except Singapore but we don't talk about Singapore, you kind of expected the results already. This is Max's third time winning the WDC title and that makes you the manager of a three-time WDC title holder now. As someone who worked with the guy the last five years, you are immensely proud of Max. You’ve been working as his manager ever since 2019—you, twenty-three, a fresh graduate of Mechanical Engineering and he, twenty-one, an aspiring world champion but you've known each other since 2018—so you knew better than anyone else, better than Christian Horner even, just how much it took from Max just to reach the place where he is standing right now. Furthermore, Red Bull Racing also won the Constructor’s Championship so everyone in the team cannot be any happier. Celebrations are in order, of course, but you have excused yourself to retire early in the evening instead. Max has asked you why. You replied that you're tired and that's the only truth you can offer him.

You draft your resignation letter whilst everyone at Red Bull is partying in some place else in Abu Dhabi. Good for them honestly. What better way is there to celebrate a victory than with alcohol? Fortunately, there's canned beer on the mini fridge so that's your share of the victory alcohol tonight while you're hunched over your laptop on the couch. Rihanna is playing from your laptop speakers in a Youtube playlist in another Google tab while you work on the letter on a separate Google Docs tab.

Dear ________,

Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from my position as the manager of Red Bull Racing first driver, Max Verstappen, effective seven days from today’s date, November 26, 2023.

I appreciate the opportunities for growth and development you have provided me during the five years I worked for this amazing team. Leaving is not an easy decision for me but in order to further my career, I have to spread my wings and explore. Please let me know if I can help with anything to make my resignation easier for the company staff.

Thank you, Red Bull, for giving me wings and the courage to fly. Now, I believe it is time for me to soar new skies. I will cherish the time I have spent here in Red Bull Racing.

Sincerely,

[First Name] [Last Name].

You read it over and over again, checking for errors in the spelling or the grammatical structure.

“Thank you Red Bull for giving me wings and the courage to fly….” you mutter. What Red Bull gave you was five decades worth of stress. One decade's worth of stress for each year since you were accepted in the team. “Cringy as fuck.”

Your phone abruptly rings and you jump in surprise, dropping your phone and your beer and oh shoot, you almost dropped your laptop, too. You scramble to pick up the canned beer, hissing slightly when you see the liquid form a pool on the tiled floor. Your initial response is to avoid it so you sidestepped and kicked your YSL heels away from the puddle. The heels are previously placed next to your feet neatly but now they're thrown haphazardly on the floor a few meters away. Your eyes quickly search for a towel, or anything you can use to wipe that shit off before it reaches the expensive hotel carpet, but there is no towel in your vicinity and the liquid is moving fast so you take off your Red Bull shirt—haha, you’re resigning anyways—leaving you in only your sleeveless undershirt. You throw it on the floor. Then, you crouch down and hurriedly wipe the beer.

Crisis averted! Beer - 0. You - 1. You pick up the call after, already knowing it's from Max even without reading the caller ID because you have set a separate ringtone for him, using that catchy Super Max sound, “Hello, [Name] here. Anythin’ I could help?”

Daniel’s voice is not something you have expected to hear, not from Max’s phone anyway, but then again, they should be together right now at the afterparty, “Hi [Name], we kind of got ourselves stuck in a situation here.”

Your brows furrow, forehead creasing, “Danny? Somethin’ wrong?”

“It's Max.”

You stiffen before slowly rising to a stand. Your head begins running at a speed of 300 kilometers per hour, the pace of a Formula One car, coming up with different scenarios where Max is in danger and a list of things you can do to get him out of those situations, “What's wrong with Max?”

That's how you found yourself in the middle of the Red Bull afterparty, navigating through the sweaty and drunk Red Bull employees with your eyes actively searching for a tall, broad-shouldered, blond-brown-haired, blue-eyed Dutchman. You find him nearly ten minutes after entering the party, in a corner, on the floor, next to a yellow puddle of disgusting liquid with his head hanging low and the two Alpha Tauri drivers, Daniel and Yuki, standing right beside him. Thank God they did not leave Max.

The fact that they are in a party full of Red Bull employees and none even tried to help Max bothers you greatly. Jesus, what is wrong with these people? You lower yourself in front of him, hand coming up to his nape while the other is on his forearm before gently guiding him away from the vomit pool just in case he accidentally touches on it. If he did, you know you're the one who’s going to clean him up and frankly, you aren't in the mood for dealing with that. Max follow your hands like it's second nature for him to follow your guidance, leaning into the warmth of your palm.

“What happened?” you finally voice the question you've been dying to ask once Max is a good distance away from the pool of vomit. Daniel is the one who answers you, “He asked for you.”

That doesn't answer your question. Thankfully, Yuki decides to be more helpful, “He broke up with Kelly this morning.”

Oh.

He raced while shouldering a broken heart and still won? Poor Max. But also, you are not surprised. Not even a bit. It's very much like him to prioritize the race over his feelings because Max Verstappen only wants one thing in the world and that is to emerge victorious at the sport he loved. To prove to the world that he is top one, to prove to Jos Verstappen that he is top one and that he will go down in history as top one and the world shall remember it even after he leaves the F1 racing scene for the young ones.

“Thanks, Yuki,” you turn to Daniel and nod. “Danny, I’ll take it from here.”

“Are you sure you don't need help?”

You shake your head and offer a tight-lipped smile. Dealing with a drunk Max is no biggie. You have worked with the guy for five years already, four as his manager. That's over a hundred podiums and defeats and in each defeat and each podium, alcohol and Max become the best of friends. You’re used to this; cleaning him up, picking him up, tucking him into bed, calling his girlfriend to deal with his drunk ass, and helping him nurse the hangover in the morning with an Advil and a good breakfast.

You roll the sleeves of your champagne-colored button-up to your elbows and in one swift motion, you lift Max in a fireman’s carry. That volunteer work you did at LAFD back when you're still in university paid off in these moments.

It was a comedic sight. A 5’5” woman in heels carrying an almost six foot drunk racer who is at least two times broader than her on her shoulders. The media has already caught a picture of a similar-looking moment one time in 2019 and another in 2021—such times are the beginning of those annoying dating rumors that involves you and Max—and you can say that Twitter is mostly impressed that the Red Bull manager was strong enough to lift a high-performance athlete. Some made memes of it. You'll never admit that you saved some of them, especially the ones that made fun of Max so you could put it above his head. Some even claimed that your YSL heels must be some sort of superhero power up because you do a lot of athletic things in those heels like running through the paddock as if you were just wearing a pair of Nikes, kicking a door down, driving a motorcycle around in Monza to buy Max's morning coffee, and getting in a physical fight with Max’s anti-fan back in 2022. In theory, you can and will absolutely kill a god in those heels and honestly, it's about time YSL sponsors you because you're giving their Opyum heels so much promotion.

What the public doesn't know is that Max is lighter than he looks and paired with your capability of lifting heavy equipment and people due to your history as a volunteer firefighter, it is incredibly easy to lift him without breaking a sweat and yes, even while wearing heels. People are too easily impressed nowadays.

You ignore the confused stares that are sent your way as you hurriedly walk to the comfort rooms. In a matter of seconds, you are power-walking yourself inside the male comfort room, sending an unimpressed look at the two Red Bull rookie employees making out inside. They are horrified when they see you. You can tell with the way their eyes widened and how they scrambled away from each other and hurriedly fixed themselves while muttering a thousand apologies. You don't even need to say anything. They are out before you could even tell them to.

You lock the door behind you before heading towards the bathroom sink and placing Max there. You put your hands on the back of his head and shoulders to support him until he's leaning against the mirror and sitting fully upright. You wish he won't topple over and accidentally hit his head on the tiles.

“Hey, hey,” you tap his cheek. “You good, Max?”

You sincerely hope he won't pass out. Unconscious people are heavier than conscious people when you lift them.

Procuring a water bottle inside your tote bag, you hand it to him. He accepts it wordlessly and down it in one go. You pull out an extra shirt from your bag, “Off with the shirt, big boy.”

Obediently, Max does what he is told and he peeled his shirt off him. You have to help him midway because he got it stuck around his neck. You toss the stinky shirt somewhere on the sink and hand him the shirt you brought. Again, you help him put it on because drunk Max has seemingly forgotten where the holes of the t-shirt are and which limb should enter a specific hole. Oh wait, that sounds wrong.

“You're taking good care of me.”

His voice sounds so small when he utters those words that it almost got swallowed up by the silence of the room and the muffled sound of the party outside.

“Aren't I always?”

You are paid to take good care of him after all.

“Always.”

You wet a towel in the sink and squeeze out the excess water in the wool. Your fingers gently cradle Max’s jaw as you wipe his face. He has a little vomit on his cheek.

You're used to looking at Max’s face up close but you still cannot help but be amazed by the beauty of it, you know? Some people will not consider Max as a conventionally beautiful man. Different people have different preferences. Honestly, you used to be one of those people. You met Max when he was twenty-one and that time, he looked like a fetus and greatly resembled Sid the sloth from the Ice Age movies. You used to tease him all the time about it, calling him a kid and pulling the age card when he needed to be reigned in or to annoy him until he submits into obedience, when you are only a year older than him. The stress of racing caused Max to age quickly but thankfully, he does not age badly. No, instead Max transitioned into an absolute daddy. Thank God he is more like his mother than his father, too. His mother’s genes saved him. Thank you Sophia!

You would have fallen for him, too, like the gazillion women all around the world who'll fall at his feet, but it’s hard to do so when you know he doesn't even know how to peel his own oranges. Drives a car going 300 kilometers per hour and can’t even peel a damn orange.

Twitter is always having a field day when they manage to snap a picture of you peeling oranges for him. Orange Peel Theory or whatever that is. Ludicrous bullshit, to be honest. The only theories you know are the ones taught in Physics class.

“I wonder if you know how much I need you,” he mutter. “I wonder if you can tell.”

“Very poetic,” you say flatly because Max has the tendency to say the most out of pocket yet soul breaking things when he's drunk and you are too tired to rationalize all his musings right now. We love a trauma-dumping king.

“You talkin’ ‘bout Kelly?” you ask, brow raising slightly. You continue to clean his face before proceeding to wipe his arms and his hands.

“I don't know.”

“Okay.”

He probably is talking about Kelly anyway.

Now that Kelly is gone, you’re beginning to get worried for Max. Earlier, as you wrote that resignation letter in your hotel room, the worry of leaving Max was not present. He has Kelly after all. Kelly can easily do the things you did for Max, not that she should do the work of a Red Bull manager because honestly, if she plans on taking up your job now, you’ll tell her to run and save herself. You mean the support you gave Max. You mean going all-out in protecting Max whether from haters or even his own father and especially his own darkness. You mean standing with him, inside that open cage that he can walk out of anytime but chose not to because Jos Verstappen still had his claws on him. You mean not leaving Max, no matter where he stood, may it be at the top of that glorious podium or at the end of the line. You mean taking care of Max the same way you did, even if he insists that helping him is nothing but rotten work.

But then, she left. Now what?

“I want to tell you something.”

You lift your eyes and met Max’s glazed blue ones.

“It is in my will that if I die—”

“You're not dyin’," you cut him off, not even the least bit amused about the idea of Max dying.

“Shush,” he playfully glares at you and you roll your eyes, itching to pull that I’m older than you so don't shush me card just to annoy him. “Let me finish. It is in my will that if I die, my cats will be taken care of by you. Oh come on, stop making that face. You look like you're having an aneurysm.”

“Shut up,” you swat his forearm with the damp towel, causing him to laugh at you. “Why’d you even do that? Give them to your Mom or somethin’.”

“But nobody is better at taking care of someone than you,” he says and his voice bled with rawness and honesty and so much sincerity that you're taken aback. “I want someone to take care of them like how you take care of me.”

You blink, mouth slightly agape. What can you even say to that? Thank you? I’m honored? Dude, what the fuck? Are you confessin’ to me or somethin’? You doin’ big shit over there by putting me in your will.

Now, you’re even more worried. Who will take care of Max after you're gone? The same way you took care of him?

Nonetheless, on December 13, you submit the resignation letter to Christian Horner. He reads the letter with a deep frown marring his face. It's funny how he had the same expression on his face, too, on the first day you met him when you were applying from Red Bull.

“Have you told Max?”

The guy is sleeping in his hotel bed as you speak and will probably be awake in a few hours with the world’s shittiest hangover. So no, you have not told him. Not yet, at least.

“No.”

“He wouldn't be happy with this.”

You know Max does not bode well with goodbyes, especially from the people he closely worked with leaving Red Bull. Look at what happened with Danny in 2018. Now, it is your turn. Two of his biggest friends in the Red Bull team, leaving in search of careers outside his shadow. Being in Max's shadow..... They are right after all. It is a curse.

While you love Max, platonically of course, being his manager is not what you wanted. You did not suffer through four years in engineering school just to become an errand girl for a racer. This is not what you applied for when you sent that application letter in Red Bull and Renault back when you were twenty-two. Renault didn't have an opening in their engineering team so your future with that team was quickly erased. Red Bull had no opening in their engineering team either but they had an open spot on the team as Daniel Ricciardo's manager for a whole season. You accepted their offer, naturally, hoping that their engineering team will have a place for you soon. When Danny left, you contemplated following him to Renault.

Then, Max told you to not go to Renault because they're a shitty team and perhaps he was right because in that sucky car they had, Daniel barely won podiums, but if Renault would give you the position you wanted and worth your student loans, then you'd take it.

"No, stay."

Demanding little prickly ass, he was, "I will win next year. When I become a world champion, I'll ask Horner to move you to the engineering team."

You did not know why you believed him.

2021—Max became world champion. You hoped he would ask Horner like he told you back in 2018.

2022—Max became world champion again but you're still stuck as his manager. You reminded him of his declaration in 2018. He told you he was already on it. Two rookie engineers entered the team that year, taking the spot that should have been yours years ago and you were stuck wondering if Max was really putting truth on his words.

2023—Max became a third-time world champion and you wouldn't even ask anymore.

“I know," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "I'll deal with it."

"I'll trust that you'll be the one who'll tell him?"

It amuses you how no one wants to deal with Max or drop him the big news. Everyone knew how crazy he could get when Max does not like something. He's a menace. He'll terrorize everyone. You're the only one who could hold the menace down.

"Of course, Sir. Leave it to me."

“Are you transferring teams? Are you still going to stay in Monaco near Max?”

Monaco is not home. Home is desert and heat. Home is Texas.

“Nah, goin’ back to Austin.”

Everybody knows Texas was your home, your accent and your manners spoke of it. Some Europeans look down on it, calling you a country bum and a cowgirl mascarading as a sophisticated sidehoe of a champion. Fuck 'em all.

“Everyone in the team is given two weeks off now that we’ve won so your resignation is immediately effective of today,” Horner says. “If the US GP is held at Austin next year, make sure to come by. Max would appreciate it.”

Christian Horner is an asshole but he is at least good to Max and that's what's important.

You get a text from Max an hour later.

him: i feel like shit

him: thanks for the advil and the soup

him: also im flying back to monaco tonight, fly with me

Tonight, you're flying to Monaco with Max Verstappen. Seven days from now, you're flying home alone.

[lxclerc]

how the hell is it that there’s some weird voodoo about max now that i find EXTREMELY attractive like i hated this man’s guts and was praying for his downfall a year ago

[lxclerc]

my thoughts and prayers goes out to mclaren fans (me) for the chinese gp bc it’s like they sat down mclaren and asked what’s you biggest weakness then made it into a track

[lxclerc]

I don't know how so many people can't grasp the fact that contracts expire. No, the team didn't disrespect Carlos by not posting anything for his departure when they have a whole season ahead of them, and they didn't disrespect him by replacing him with a 7 time wdc. It was his camp's constant talking with audi and putting the blame on the team when there was zero need for that, that led to this. Carlos not renewing with ferrari lies wholly on Carlos, not charles. Which team in their sane state would pass up the opportunity to sign THE LEWIS HAMILTON. You don't have to like Lewis to acknowledge the fact that statistically, he is the greatest this sport has seen. It is almost an honor for Carlos that he is getting replaced by a 7 time wdc and not a rookie, like Ollie (I would be happy with either Lewis or ollie). So it is quite a shame that people (i.e., media) seem to diminish Charles' talent just to prop up Carlos, which is quite frankly disrespectful looking at the stats. You can be happy for someone or want something better for them without bringing down the other person ( for the sky commentators). All this bullshit smear campaign that has been going on against Charles in the media is disgusting and diminishes the value of talents in this sport. You will not see any team principal not pick Charles given the option ( Binotto merda), but by the way, the media is treating him you would think he finished last in the championship last season and is behind Sargent in the current standings and not 4 points off the leader. The wdc drivers rate him on their level even with just 5 wins to his name. That just shows how much of a threat he would be if given the right machinery. It is not a surity that he will win the wdc for ferrari this year or the next year, but I as a fan of him, believe in it tremendously. And it is a bit jarring as a fan of this sport to see such a talent get mistreated by everyone constantly.

[lxclerc]

guys i have so much ideas and motivation but unfortunately i am suffering from the worst flu in the world 😒 i promise ill start writing again and i swear ill never take breathing with both nostrils for granted ever again once this clears up

[lxclerc]

DANI WHAT THE FUCK

hi!! could i request "i'm in love with you, you dumbass." & "i've been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn't see?" with Max? thank you!

not enough 𐙚 all the words, all the love– it's still not enough (1.4k words)

d rambles. . . im sorry this took forever and that it kinda sucks. i did what i could. thank u for requesting

The room feels stuffy. Twenty minutes ago you were shivering but now you’re hot. The whole room pays no mind to your discomfort, you’re sure no one even has a clue how uncomfortable you feel in your own skin. You try to find the will to stay, to tough out the next hour or so for him. But the longer you stand in a crowd of people who you could care less about being here. It was no fun watching Max flirt with another girl at the bar anyways, and the more you stand and stare the more your will withers away. 

It’s stretched thin, a rubber band being pulled well beyond its means. You’re holding one and Max has the other. He pulls and pulls and—

Max leans in. He leans down so close you can only imagine the lucky girl can smell his after shave and feel his warm breath tickle her skin. And he makes her laugh. 

Snap.

You inhale sharply, balling the fabric of your dress to calm your nerves. You don’t bother to excuse yourself from the conversation you were stood in, just squeeze past bodies and through the room in search for just a bit for fresh air because you can’t fucking breathe. 

The double glass doors take you out onto the bustling street and straight into the cold wind. You welcome the kiss of cold air against your skin, the shiver it sends down on your spine. You welcome the brief distraction because at least for the next few seconds you don’t have to feel your chest caving in. At least for now, even with people rushing by you with people to see and places to go, you are happy in your solitude. Misery and loneliness cannot find you in these five seconds, you are untouchable. 

But it was merely just a moment, nothing less and nothing more. It’s fleeting, quick to slip from you. You’re pulled back down to earth when you hear your name called behind you, confused, waiting for an answer to an unasked question. You squeeze your eyes, ball your fist at your sides and find it in you to pretend like you’re alight. Breathe in, breathe out.

There you are, Max sounds relieved when he says it. “Why’d you leave?”

“Felt stuffy,” You admit curtly, still refusing to look at him. “Couldn’t breathe.” 

Your tone does not fly by Max, and you miss the way he frowns at the back of your head because of it. But he’s Max, ever hopeful and ever oblivious. “Well come back, they’re about to make an announcement.” 

Tension falls from your palm as you flex your fingers back. You inhale sharply, letting cool air fill your lungs and creep under your skin. “I think I might just go.” 

Max’s footsteps pit-pat around you, feel his hand hold onto your elbow gently as he takes a look at you. He tries to find a sliver of emotion, a tell of why you suddenly want to leave. But all he finds is exhaustion, a dead-pan look that leaves him without a clue. 

“You’re mad.” He shifts on his feet, says it like he knows because he just does. Of course he does. He steps out so he’s directly in front of you, head tilted so he can get a better look at your face. “You’re mad at me?” 

You turn away. “I’m not mad at you.” 

You’re mad at him. You’re mad he can’t see you, mad that he doesn’t want you. You are mad, but you don’t have a right to be. You’re upset and aching in your chest all over a boy who has no fucking clue. You’re mad. You’re mostly mad at yourself, for letting your feelings grow as much as they did, to allow your heart to dictate the way you move around him. 

“But you’re mad. Why?”

You groan, head falling into your hands, “I don’t wanna talk about it, I just wanna go home.” 

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” Max tucks his index finger under your chin, forces your gaze up to his face. You resent the way he worries, resent the way his bright blue eyes are just filled with it, it almost makes you feel guilty for the way your chest aches. His finger feels hot against your skin, shoots sparks through every nerve ending and suddenly the cold air does nothing to keep you calm. 

You turn your head, yanking your chin away from him and take a few steps backwards as you search for the feeling of cold air, for the freedom of just being able to fucking breathe. You’re ashamed of the way your chest heaves, that you show just how weak he can make you with just one touch. Max asks what’s wrong, calls out your name with the same worry you saw in his eyes two seconds ago. It shouldn’t make your blood boil but it does. It fucking does. 

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” You beg, “Please stop. Please stop saying my name and asking what’s wrong because—“ The cold air finally catches you and grabs the words in your throat. You swallow, hard, pushing down every single thought and mistake that threatens to come out. “I just need space.” 

Max’s shoulder’s slump behind you, expression wounded and confused. “What’s your problem?”

It’s an honest question. It’s Max being Max— blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t spare your feelings, doesn’t tiptoe around your obviously fired state because why should he? He’s always been this way, and it was a trait that you’ve always found endearing. But in this moment, with smoke pouring out of your ears and your heart beating so hard it rattles your ribs, it was like turning up the stove on water that is already boiling. It’s just enough to break you, just enough for everything you’ve spent months trying to keep at bay to bubble over. 

“You!” Your fingers rake through your hair roughly, undoing the effort you put in to make it look nice. You were shaking, every bit of you searching for bit of release and all you had was the words on the tip of your tongue.

“Me?!” Max answers back, confused. “What did I do?!”

“You’re just…” The words begin to tumble out of you in an incoherent stutter. “I've been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn't see? You still don’t see…” 

You almost want to laugh at the way Max looks at you and how invisible you truly are. This was the moment it was supposed to click and yet he still doesn’t have a clue— like it’s almost unfathomable to him that you could ever want more than what you both share. 

“I’m in love with you,” Your voice shakes, “you dumbass.” 

Max’s brows furrow, eyes expectant. He’s waiting for the punchline, the part of the joke where you shove him back and say that you were only kidding. But you stand there, cold wind kissing your skin pink and the world just bustling by. Despite the people walking too and fro, despite the murmurs of conversation that are completely lost to you, the silence between the two of you was deafening.

You don’t know how long it is until the boy in front of you makes a move. You watch as he rubs his jaw, eyes cast past you as he searches for the right thing to say. The wind is knocked out of you as you watch Max try and fail to say something, anything. Instead you’re left to listen to the stammers and syllables of failed words. 

I’m sorry, is all he manages. 

He’s sorry that you’re upset. Sorry that you bore your heart out for him and all he had to show for was a stutter and stammer. He apologizes because he sees you, he sees all of you, and somehow you were not enough. Max says he loves you — because of course he loves you, you’re his best friend. He says that he appreciates you, that he can’t stand to lose you and he hopes that you would still want to stay even if he can’t love you that way. Max says all the right things, all the things that were meant to quell your aching heart. Instead it does the opposite. The words pluck at the pieces of your heart, shard by shard until you’re left with a hole in your chest in the shape of him. Max does everything right and yet, like you, it’s not enough. 

[lxclerc]

dear god please take away charles leclerc’s suffering, double it and give it to damon hill. amen

[lxclerc]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ─ 𝐨𝐛𝟑𝟖

summary: when max verstappen’s adopted little sister starts soft launching, the whole grid launches an investigation on who it might be

pairing: ollie bearman x f2 driver! max verstappen’s adopted sister! reader

faceclaim: no one in particular

note: i accidentally published this before it was finish so now i’ve completely lost the request but anyways the request really was just about max being reader’s grid dad but i ran with it a little

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ twitter

.ೃ࿐ yourusername posted on her story!

landonorris replied to your story: it’s like you have a death wish

yourusername: shut up

landonorris: rest in peace to the unlucky guy 🫡

arthur_leclerc replied to your story: soft launching knowing mad max is your warden is insaneee

yourusername: i just got that dog in me ig

arthur_leclerc: never ever say that again

paularon_ replied to your story: so long, ollie. it was good knowing you, mate ✊

yourusername: so dramatic for no reason

maxverstappen1 replied to your story: that better be just be some stranger you picked up on the side of the road to tie your shoelaces and not a boy you went around japan with when you told me you were only going out with your team

yourusername: remember that you love and adore me and i am 17 years old and can make my own decisions

maxverstappen1: nice try. who is he?

yourusername: no ❤️

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ instagram

liked by olliebearman, maxverstappen1, paularon_ and others

yourusername suzuka, youve been very nice to me 🫶

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user1 the way she ran to max’s arms after the podium 🥹

user2 a red bull girl with her red bull dad

user3 so we’re not going to talk about the 3rd pic?

maxverstappen1 who is he and why are you going on dates without telling anyone? what if something happens to you and no one knows where you are or who you’re with?

↳ yourusername calm down, we were with the team 🙄

↳ user4 overprotective dad max is so adorable i cant lie

↳ user5 if they were with the team, does that mean the guy’s also part of the team? another driver maybe?

↳ user6 user5 youre onto something

victoriaverstappen je bent geweldig, mijn meisje. blijf stralen ❤️ (you are amazing, my girl. keep on shining.)

↳ yourusername ik hou zielsveel van je, v 💕 (i love and adore you to bits, v)

paularon_ congrats or whatever

↳ yourusername jealousy doesnt suit you

↳ paularon_ nvm fck u 💕

arthur_leclerc stop winning

↳ yourusername get a seat first ❤️

olliebearman congratulations, yn! another trophy to bring home ❤️

↳ yourusername thank you, ollie!

use7 the difference between paul and arthur then ollie bye i love their friendship 😭

landonorris girlll who is heeeee

↳ yourusername no ❤️

↳ charles_leclerc come on, at least give us a clue

↳ carlossainz55 is he also a driver? what team does he driver for?

↳ yourusername yall are grown ass men way too interested in a teenager’s love life. absorb some sunlight

↳ user8 she gagged yall im afraid 😭

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liked by olliebearman, paularon_, arthur_leclerc and others

yourusername hello, lover ❤️

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olliebearman my girl ❤️❤️

olliebearman love you to the moon and to saturn 💫

↳ yourusername buzz lightyear’s got nothing on us frfr

↳ arthur_leclerc why can’t you be normal?

↳ yourusername ollie loves me with all the weirdness and shit

↳ olliebearman yeah that’s about right

↳ arthur_leclerc 🤮🤮

↳ user1 arthur is your regular third wheel bff

paularon_ ollie’s trying to keep his cool in the comments but he’s red as a tomato

↳ olliebearman shut the hell up no im not

↳ yourusername youre not? 🥹

↳ olliebearman i mean of course i am got me giggling and shit too

↳ paularon_ you’re both disgusting

user2 arthur and paul are so over them 😭

user3 i fucking knew the back of that head was familiar!!!!

user4 oh? OH!

user5 idk what hurts more. the fact that i no longer have a chance with ollie or the fact that i no longer have a chance with yn

user6 waiting for max’s comment

maxverstappen1 you better watch it the next time you step in for either carlos or charles, bearman 🙂

↳ yourusername you promised

↳ maxverstappen1 i promise i’ll carve charles’ appendix out myself so ollie and i can face each other on track man to man

↳ olliebearman i- sir?

↳ charles_leclerc mate, what the fuck did i do to you

↳ yourusername maxie come on. you promised me you’d be nice

↳ maxverstappen1 fine 🙄

maxverstappen1 dinner’s at 8 on tuesday. don’t be late

↳ olliebearman yes, sir 🫡

user7 not charles getting dragged into it 😭😭

↳ user8 max is just completely unable to go through a conversation without mentioning charles ♡ liked by yourusername

liked by victoriaverstappen, olliebearman and others

yourusername it was truly unfortunate for max to find out that his cat is also now in love with ollie

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user1 omg sophie and victoria also joined the dinner 😭

↳ user2 girlie really introduced her to the whole family

↳ yourusername well actually max invited them along to try and intimidate ollie but jokes on him, they loved him

↳ user3 yn and ollie to max when vic and sophie ended up loving ollie: oh how the turntables

maxverstappen1 sassy is NOT in love with a ferrari driver

↳ yourusername one thing you, sassy and i have in common with

↳ user4 yn truly is just a lestappen truther

olliebearman sassy 🫶

↳ yourusername oh i guess ill just die then

↳ olliebearman my love beautiful angel girlfriend yn ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

↳ yourusername better

↳ arthur_leclerc did you just get jealous over a cat?

↳ yourusername did you really just lose your seat?

↳ yourusername it’ll get old when you get your seat back

↳ arthur_leclerc that’s getting old 🙄

user5 each and every day, arthur tries to come for yn’s neck and each and every day, yn gags him

paularon_ olliebearman in a scale of 1-10, how scary is it to face mad max head on?

↳ olliebearman just peachy 👍 (i nearly shat my pants)

charles_leclerc does this mean that max’s promise is null and void?

↳ maxverstappen1 none of you figured out who it is 🤷

↳ yourusername what promise?

↳ maxverstappen1 ….nothing

landonorris i can’t believe we didn’t figure out it’d be bearman

↳ george_russell it seems so obvious now

↳ alex_albon i asked him straight on and he lied to my face

↳ olliebearman i was terrified max would find a way to run me over with his rocketship if i even dare utter it

↳ alex_albon yk what absolutely valid

also this turned out wayy longer than i meant it to which is why it took so long.

[lxclerc]

guys dental school is absolutely KICKING my ass ngl to you

[lxclerc]

im absolutely going to regret this but…requests are open for smaus!

- i’m in my max mood though so requests for max will probably be prioritized

[lxclerc]

𝙖𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙥𝙨

i saw people doing this and wanted to try as well since the gods of motivation have finally blessed me with the ability to write once again.

𝘿𝙄𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙔𝙊𝙐 ─ charles leclerc x best friend's sister!reader

❝ when he was twelve years old, charles made a promise to always protect you but what happens when it's him you start needing protection from? ❞

𝙑𝙄𝙀𝙉𝙉𝘼 𝙒𝘼𝙄𝙏𝙎 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙔𝙊𝙐 ─ max verstappen x best friend!reader

❝ in the midst of all the chaos of his world, you remind max that vienna waits for him, hoping that it's enough to keep him by your side. ❞

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙁𝙊𝙊𝙇 𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎 ─ f1 drivers x woman in motorsport!reader

❝ a series of fluff showcasing formula 1 drivers being stupidly in love and not afraid to embarrass themselves just to show how much ❞

𝘪. 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 ─ oscar piastri x driver!reader 𝘪𝘪. 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 ─ carlos sainz x journalist!reader 𝘪𝘪𝘪. 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 ─ max verstappen x social media officer!reader 𝘪𝘷. 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 ─ charles leclerc x grid doctor!reader 𝘷. 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 ─ lando norris x social media admin!reader 𝘷𝘪. 𝘵𝘣𝘢… ─ lewis hamilton x engineer!reader

𝙒𝙀 𝘾𝘼𝙉'𝙏 𝘽𝙀 𝙁𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙉𝘿𝙎 ─ charles leclerc x childhood lover!reader ( part five of the one that got away series )

❝ trying to be friends with your ex never ends well, especially not with you and charles. ❞

[lxclerc]

daniel ricciardo is hogging a seat that younger, more talented drivers deserve more than him. ric fans are purely hanging onto nostalgia and vibes as a defense for keeping him. he was a great driver but he’s not anymore and he’s already had too many chances in f1 to prove that he can be a great driver when he’s failed spectacularly each time.

You know the drill

What did you say about F1 that had everyone on Twitter all like this?

[lxclerc]

will you guys hate me if i write a fic based off scared of my guitar where reader is dating arthur but hes not right because charles is….