#Max: ... Yeah you too Daniel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

verstappenverse · 1 month ago

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All Over You

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Touch has always been your love language, until one overheard conversation makes you question everything. When you start to pull away Max realises just how deeply he’s come to need it.

2.7k words / Masterlist

Max always says you’re like a blanket come to life.

You cling. You cuddle. You drape yourself across him the second the opportunity arises. If Max’s lap is free you claim it without hesitation. If he’s stretched out on the couch you’re pressed against his side before he even blinks. Your hand finds his thigh during dinner, your fingers sneak into his back pocket when you’re walking together, and every morning, like clockwork, your nose tucks into the curve of his neck.

It’s not something you think about, it’s instinct. It’s how you express the things you sometimes struggle to say. How you offer comfort. How you say I love you.

And for the longest time Max never says a word about it.

He lets you curl up beside him during movie nights. He leans into your touch when you rub lazy circles into the back of his neck while he’s gaming, or when you lace your fingers with his under the table at dinner.

So you think, this is us. You think, this works.

Until one night, when you overhear something you weren’t supposed to.

It’s nothing serious. At least, not really.

You’re padding back from the kitchen with a cup of tea, bare feet muffled by carpet when you hear Max talking on the phone on the balcony. His voice is low, casual. He’s talking to Daniel you think. Laughing at something.

And then you catch it.

“Yeah, you noticed huh? No she’s super touchy, always has been. Like, always on me.”

A beat.

“No, I don’t mind it. It’s just... I’m not really used to it, you know?”

You freeze, feet still against the carpet. The tea sloshes slightly, forgotten in your hands.

He laughs again, easy and relaxed. “She’s like a human magnet. If I’m sitting, she’s sitting on me. I swear sometimes I think she’d climb into my skin if she could.”

Daniel says something you can’t hear. Max chuckles. “No, she’s not annoying. She’s just... really affectionate.”

You don’t stay to hear the rest.

Your fingers tighten around your mug as you quietly retreat, heart a little heavier than before. You curl back into bed without saying a word, staring at the ceiling while your tea goes cold on the nightstand.

You’re not angry. He didn’t say anything cruel. Not really.

But for the first time questions being to lodge in your chest like a thorn... do I touch him too much? Does he just tolerate it because he loves me?

And just like that, something in you begins to shift.

You're still beside him. Still laughing at his jokes, still making him breakfast. You kiss him good morning and smile across the table. From the outside nothing changes, but the little things in all the tiny invisible places, the things that used to come so naturally they stop.

You don’t climb into his lap while he’s watching race replays, don’t tuck your face into the slope of his shoulder like you used to. You don’t slide your hand beneath the hem of his hoodie when you hug him from behind in the kitchen, fingers sneaking against warm skin. You don’t curl into his side when the movie starts, don’t tuck yourself under his arm like you belong there.

Instead you sit beside him on the couch with your legs tucked neatly under you, wrapped up tightly in a blanket like armour. A careful distance. A subtle retreat.

You keep your hands in your lap at dinner. You nod and listen and smile, but your fingers don’t find his thigh. You don’t reach for his hand beneath the table.

You still want to. God, do you want to.

Your whole body aches to reach for him, to run your fingers over his jaw, to smooth back his hair, to trace lazy shapes across his stomach. You miss the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart under your cheek.

You miss being held without thinking twice, but now that you’ve heard him say it out loud, that he’s not used to it, that he’s not like you, you can’t unhear it. It loops in your mind when the silence stretches between you.

Slowly you start to convince yourself you’ve been suffocating him. That maybe the way you love is too much for him. That maybe softness, when it clings like yours does, feels like smothering.

So you pull back, quietly, carefully, and hope he doesn’t notice how much it hurts. Or worse that he does, and lets you do it anyway.

Max doesn’t say anything at first, but after a few days he starts to notice.

A few inches of space on the couch. Your hand not finding his like it usually does. The way you don't crawl into his lap during breakfast, don't lean into his side during movies, don't rest your hand on his leg during long car rides.

At first he tells himself maybe you’re tired from work. Maybe it’s just one of those quiet moods that passes like the weather. He gives you space, the way people are always saying partners should.

But the distance doesn’t fade.

It expands.

One morning he slips behind you in the kitchen to steal a piece of toast. Normally you’d laugh, you’d wrap your arms around his waist and bury your nose in his hoodie, but this time you step aside without touching him.

He frowns, just a quick flicker, then hides it, but his stomach twists violently anyway.

It’s not like Max to spiral. He’s not wired for emotional uncertainty he prefers problems he can fix with strategy, planning, control.

But this?

This isn’t a problem he knows how to solve.

The way you sit on the far end of the couch, legs tucked under you, scrolling on your phone like it’s more comforting than him. You barely brush his arm when you slip into bed at night. When he tries to kiss your neck absentmindedly like he always does you duck away, not unkindly, but enough to make him panic

He tries not to panic, but that’s what this feels like panic.

It gnaws at him over the next couple days. The silence between your fingers and his. The distance that didn’t use to be there. The way you won’t look at him for too long, like he might read too much in your eyes.

Max isn’t good with emotional guessing games. He’s never been the type to bottle things up or pretend everything’s fine when it isn’t. He doesn’t do insecure. He confronts things. Fixes things. Puts it all on the table and makes it make sense.

And Max doesn’t know how to read silence the way he reads telemetry. He doesn’t know how to fix something when he doesn’t know where the break is.

He replays your interactions hunting for the mistake. Did he forget something important? Miss a signal? Are you sick or bored?

Is she pulling away because she’s planning to leave?

The thought stops him in his tracks. His chest aches with it, sharp and sudden. He sits with it, stunned, rubs at his sternum like he can soothe the ache.

You’re still sweet. Still say good luck before he gets into the car. Still text him updates about your day, what podcast you listened to, what ridiculous thing your coworker said. Still fold his shirts when he leaves them in a pile at the foot of the bed. Still laugh at the stupid jokes he makes when he’s overtired. You're still there.

But it’s different. Your body has gone quiet, your touch has gone still. Less warm. Less you.

And Max, who never thought he’d crave something so soft, so intangible starts to feel the absence like a phantom limb, it feels like someone turned off the sun and expects him not to notice. And it terrifies him because he doesn’t know what he did to lose it, or how to ask for it back.

You can feel the ache in your chest growing stronger every day.

You don’t want to stop touching him. You miss touching him. You miss his warmth, the way he instinctively leans into your touch even when he’s focused on something. You miss curling into his lap without thinking, his fingers combing through your hair like it’s second nature.

But now? Every time your hand so much as twitches toward him, doubt rushes in like cold water.

Am I smothering him again? Is this too much? Is this what he meant?

You thought you were just adjusting. Giving him the space you assume he needs. You told yourself it was mature, respectful, kind, but it’s starting to feel less like an adjustment and more like a punishment.

Every second you don’t touch him? It hurts. In tiny, deceptive ways like a thousand paper cuts.

By the end of the next week, you’re sitting on the hotel bed in Jeddah, scrolling through your phone in silence, without reading a word, wrapped in one of his hoodies that still smells like his aftershave. Max pauses when he sees how far you’re sitting from the edge of the mattress. From him.

That’s when he finally speaks.

“Did I do something?”

You blink. “What?”

“You’ve been...” He trails off, eyes searching yours. “Distant.”

You hesitate. “No, I’m just tired.”

He studies your face for a long moment hoping you’ll offer somthing more, but when nothing comes he doesn’t push. Just nods slowly, then climbs into bed beside you.

You don’t cuddle him that night.

You face the other way, pretending to scroll while your chest feels like it’s being wrung out.

Max doesn’t say anything, but you feel the shift, the slight dip of the mattress, the warmth of his body inching closer in the dark, not quite touching. He stops just shy of you, like he wants to reach out but doesn’t know if he’s allowed to, like he’s hoping you’ll turn around and meet him there.

It takes until Sunday night, after the race for everything to crack open.

You’re both back at the hotel. Max steps out of the shower, hair damp and curling slightly at the ends, sweatpants slung low on his hips. You’re perched on the window seat, knees pulled to your chest, phone resting forgotten in your lap as you stare out over Jeddah’s lights.

You think maybe you’ll just go to sleep early. Then Max sits beside you.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just sits close enough to feel the heat off your arm. He’s never been good at this part, the vulnerable bit. The what if it’s in my head bit. The what if I’m asking for something she doesn’t want to give me anymore bit.

The part where he has to name the thing that’s been gnawing at him for weeks. The part where he has to admit he's scared he’s already lost something and just hasn’t caught up to it yet.

He’s spent enough time memorising the way you speak when you're lying. You don’t flinch or fumble. You just get quieter. Softer. Like you’re afraid the truth will hurt more than the silence.

But he needs the truth now, because he’s been tying himself in knots trying to figure it out. Replaying conversations in his head, wondering if he forgot someone’s birthday or crossed a line or said something he shouldn’t have.

And now all he wants is to be close. To be touched. Held. Seen.

��Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, voice low, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

“Yeah…” you say, trailing off.

And then, when you don’t say anything else, something in your eyes flickers and he just knows.

Max’s heart kicks hard in his chest, the kind of lurch he only gets right before lights out. He swallows, throat dry, like he’s one bad move away from losing something he doesn’t know how to live without.

“I miss you,” he says, voice quiet. “Even when you’re right here.”

You close your eyes. Then you look at him, really look, and something in you gives. Like you’ve been carrying a weight for days and it’s finally too much to hold, too much to hide.

“I heard you,” you say.

His brow furrows. “Heard me?”

“On the phone,” you clarify. “With Daniel. A couple of weeks ago”

Max’s pauses for a second, trying to remember, and then his stomach drops.

“You heard that?”

You nod slowly, eyes still on the window. “You said I’m always on you. That I’m really touchy. That you’re not used to it.”

His expression shifts, jaw tight, eyes suddenly filled with something that looks a lot like guilt.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I wasn’t trying to. But after that...” You pull your sleeves over your hands, voice quieter now. “I started wondering if I’d been overwhelming you. If I was too much—”

“Wait, baby—”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, force you into something you don’t want.” you rush on. “So I’ve been trying to give you space. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Max’s heart actually hurts.

He didn’t even realise how it might’ve sounded. He remembers the conversation now, half-distracted, casual, him laughing while Daniel joked about your human magnet tendencies. It hadn’t meant anything to him, just a passing comment… but it had meant everything to you.

“Hey,” he says, reaching for your hand. “Look at me.”

You look up. Max’s brows are drawn together. He looks devastated.

“I swear I never meant that in a bad way,” he says. “I wasn’t complaining. I was just… explaining it. I’ve never been with someone as affectionate as you, it caught me off guard at first sure. But I love it. I love the way you love me.”

A beat. His voice softens.

“When you stopped reaching for me, I didn’t know what to do. I’ve been going crazy wondering why it felt like you were slipping away.”

You bite your lip, blinking quickly. “I thought I was just annoying you, that you were putting up with it because you love me, not because you wanted it.”

His forehead drops to yours, hands sliding to your waist, holding tight. “No. God, no. Baby, it’s the best part of my day. You crawling into my lap, always reaching for me. It makes me feel wanted... like I matter, like I make you feel safe.”

He leans back just slightly, fingers sliding to your jaw, cradling it gently.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “If I made you feel like you were too much. If I made you doubt what we have. That was never what I meant. I hate that I hurt you. I hate that you thought you had to pull away from me just to make me comfortable.”

Your lips part slightly, like you're shocked by the weight of his words.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he admits. “Watching you pull away, thinking maybe I’d done something. I was scared I lost you and didn’t even know when it happened.”

“I wasn’t,” you whisper. “I swear I wasn’t pulling away from you… at least not like that, I just thought I was doing the right thing.”

“I know that now,” he says. “But please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop”

Your arms are around him before he finishes the sentence.

He exhales into your neck, like he’s been holding his breath for days. Pulls you into his lap like he’s afraid you’ll vanish again. His hands spread across your back, and for the first time in a while something in him settles.

You crawl further into his lap like it’s where you belong. Arms around his neck. Fingers threading into his hair. He exhales like someone finally handed him back something precious.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your skin.

“I’m right here.”

He pulls back, eyes soft. “Don’t stop being you, okay? Promise me.”

You nod. “Promise.”

Later, curled up in bed, you trace lazy lines across his chest with your fingertips.

“You really don’t mind?” you ask sleepily.

“Mind?” he echoes, mouth brushing your forehead. “I crave you.”

You smile into his skin, small and shy.

He kisses your hair again. “You ruined me.”

“Good,” you murmur, already drifting.

You’re here. Wrapped around him, where you belong.

And Max? Max feels like he can finally breathe again.

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livwritessometimes · 6 days ago

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Think Fast, I’m A Random Girl…

: Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Pierre Gasly, and Daniel Ricciardo

: Main Masterlist

…

Max Verstappen

- You had seen this trend on TikTok, and ever since then, you had wanted to try it out on Max. You knew he was never the type to even look at a another women, so doing something like this would be fun.

- There he was, blissfully unaware Max Verstappen, washing the dishes. This was probably the best time to try it, since he wouldn't have time to think. And so you did. You jump from behind and quickly blurt 'Think Fast, I'm A Random Girl' and leaned in to kiss him.

- Without even a second of hesitation, Max emptied a cup filled with soap water on top of you head. "WTF MAX! WHY DID YOU DO THAT" "You said 'think fast' I think this was pretty fast" He said and went back to washing dishes, leaving you shocked and drenched in dishwash. Although now, the only thing on his mind was how quick his reaction had been. Maybe he should do this again but this time with a stopwatch.

Lando Norris

- Over the span of two years that you and Lando had been together, he had pulled multiple pranks on you. So, I think it's fair to say you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

- The moment you watched the 'Think Fast, I'm A Random Girl' trend, you knew this was the one. So, you began your quest to find Lando and pull off this prank. You found him in kitchen, gathering all the ingredients to make his favourite sandwich. Without wasting a single second, you screamed the phrase and ran towards him.

- In a moment of complete panic, Lando did the only thing he could think off. He threw the entire loaf of bread at you. Yes, you read that right. He threw baked flour at your face. And no, I'm not talking about some soft, half-hearted toss like 'throw the nearest object at someone in a playfully annoyed way' NO. I'm talking full energy, like he's in a baseball game, ready for the first pitch. Think full force, full passion. Then he just stares back at you in shock, as if he's the one who has a reason to be shocked. "You can't just sneak up on me when I'm emotionally vulnerable. You know how seriously i take my sandwich, Y/n. Now pass me the bread, I still need to finish this"

Oscar Piastri

- Lando had sent you this trend, saying, 'Ohhh do this to Osc!!!!!' 'Record the whole thing and send it to me' 'omggg I'm so excited! If its good, I'll ask McLaren's admin to post!!!!!!!!!' I think we all know who was more excited about this trend. It was a good thing Oscar was already on his way home, else, you were almost certain Lando would have tried the trend himself.

- The plan was simple, wait for Oscar to get home, take him to the living room, where you would already have your phone set up, and pull the prank. Except...it wasn't that simple. While waiting for him to be back, you completely forgot about the trend and started to finish random chores you had been putting off. By the time you remembered, Oscar was already in the living room looking, extremely confused. There was no time, it was either now or never. So you looked him dead in the eye and said 'Think Fast, I'm A Random Girl'

- Out of habit, Oscar kissed you back before he even registered what you had just said. He immediately pulled away, looking even more confused, if that was possible. "Wait- what?" "Wait, stop it" "This is assault. Stay away or else I'll call the cops" He said all of this while slowly backing away from you, frankly afraid of what you might do next. The video ends with you clutching you stomach, falling to the ground laughing, and Oscar just walking off, too tired to deal with whatever that had just happened. I think it's safe to assume the reel made it to all McLaren platforms (all thanks to Lando)

Charles Leclerc

- You see Charles sitting in the living room, looking peaceful, and think, yeah, let's interrupt that. So you spend the next 15 minutes trying to find a trend you could try with him. That's when you see the 'Think Fast, I'm A Random Girl' trend. The plan was simple, go up to him, talk for a few minutes, then throw in the sentence as quickly as possible and finally attack him.

- And so that's what you did. You sit beside him, all innocent, asking him about different things, talking about the upcoming race. The second Charles began his rant about next week's strategy, you knew this was your chance, and so you took it. Quickly throwing in the random girl line and kissing him.

- In a split second, Charles used both his hands and pushed you with such force, that you fell flat on your back. Instantly, he started gagging. As seconds passed, the gagging just got more intense. As you sat up, you saw Charles leaning against the balcony, still pretending to gag. "GET—Blegh—THE—Blegh—FUCK—Blegh—AWAY—Blegh—FROM—Blegh—ME" At this point, even Leo was looking concerned at his father. He slowly turned his little head, looking at you as if saying 'Is this man okay?' Picking him up, you start walking towards the bedroom, "Leo I think it's safe to say your father will never kiss a random woman. Although I can't say for certain, he might give her PTSD. But oh well" Leaving a dramatic Charles still acting repulsed on the balcony, not knowing his audience is now cuddling in the bed away from his antics.

Carlos Sainz

- Carlos had this thing, where he would always prank you by jumping out of random places to scare you. Everyone by now knew you hated jump scares, so naturally, half of Williams' account was filled with videos of Carlos scaring you. It was about time you started planning your revenge. What you didn't expect was for the fans to come through. You got tagged in multiple videos about this trend going on where you kiss your boyfriend and say 'pretend I'm a random woman'. It made sense to try this out, after all, Carlos had this coming.

- You saw him in the bedroom talking to someone over the phone. What better time to do this than now? So you sneak up behind him and say the magic phrase 'Think Fast, I'm A Random Girl' and wrap your arms around his waist, excited to see his reaction.

- You expected Carlos to be confused. You expected him to not pay attention to what you had just said. You even expected him to wriggle away from your hold. What you didn't expect him to do was lift his free hand in full force and elbow you straight in the rib. So there you are, laying on the ground clutching your—now probably—bruised rib. "Y/n you should not sneak up on me! You know I took self-defense classes, mi amor" He said as he abandoned his phone and helped you off the ground. One thing's for certain now: you will never try to sneak up on Carlos Sainz Jr. EVER AGAIN

Lewis Hamilton

- Lewis has always been put together. Always presentable, Always calm. He likes to say 'I'm too old for all this' when he sees the grid being childish. But we all know this man loves to indulge in it from time to time. So one day while, you were walking around in the paddock, all the rookies surrounded you. From far away, if someone were to see this scene, they'd think, 'awww all the rookies are bonding with you' 'they all look so cute together' 'grid mum moment' but if they were to walk closer, they'd hear the planning and plotting. None of the rookies had been able to prank Lewis yet. So far, they had successfully crossed off Max, Oscar, George, Alex, and Charles from the list. There were still many more to go, but the day they saw Lewis shake his head and laugh at their antics, that's when they decided who next in the list.

- But all that being said, pranking Sir Lewis Hamilton turned out to be more difficult than they expected. Which is why they decided to pull in a wild card. The wild card being: you. The plan was simple. Say the phrase to Lewis, see his reaction, and record the whole thing for the rookies to see. And so off you went.

- You texted Lewis that you were waiting for him in his driver's room. You had already set up the camera, ready to pull off the prank. The moment he entered the room and closed the door behind him, you initiated the plan 'Think Fast, I'm A Random Girl' You had barely finished your sentence before Lewis turned around in one swift movement, grabbed your face, and pushed you backwards on the sofa. "I'M MARRIED BITCH" "STAY DOWN" He then calmly walked towards the bottle of water that was on the table. You sat still, unable to wrap your mind around what had just happened, and just before the video ended, you were heard whispering 'But we're not even married yet' It's safe to say the rookies LOVED it!

George Russell

- George Russell was many things—smart, funny, British, a tire whisperer—but more than anything, he was currently getting on Alex's last nerve. Which is how you found yourself in a huddled position with Alex and Lily outside the Mercedes garage. "Y/n, you gotta do this for the greater good" "And what do I get in return?" "My respect, the thrill of pranking George, a dinner treat from yours truly" "Hmmm..." "Ugh, fine! Lily for a week" "You've got yourself a deal"

- So here you were, phone all set, ready for George to return from his meeting with Toto. Your antics had caught the attention of the garage, and you already had three cameras set, ready to record your prank in 4K for Mercedes' channel. You heard George before you saw him turn the corner. The moment he stepped within your reach, you said the phrase and quickly reach out for him.

- 'Think Fast, I'm A Random Girl' George immediately grabbed both your hands and pushed you away from him "Ugg—ahh—back off" "HELP" "SOMEONE HELP" "SECURITY" He screamed as he dramatically launched himself to the wall to get as far away from you as possible. At that exact moment, Toto walked out. Immediately all the cameras turned to catch his reaction. Toto suddenly paused, looked at the entire scene in front of him, then looking at you, then at George. He let out a deep sigh before he turned around and walked back into his office, closing the door for good measure.

Alex Albon

- Alex had always been chaotic. There was never a dull moment in your relationship. From the time he tried to cook pasta in the hotel's kettle and almost burned down your room, to the time he desperately tried to convince you to steal an alligator from the zoo, saying 'I'd make a great addition to the Albon zoo'. Life was full of unpredictable surprises with him. So naturally, when you came across this trend, you knew in your heart you had to try it, because what are the odds you saw this trend the same day Alex was staying over? It was like the universe wanted you to try it.

- So here you were, standing in the kitchen watching Alex contemplate between Harry Potter and Mean Girls. It was go time. You quickly placed your phone and hit record before making your way to him. When Alex saw you, he put the Diet Coke can down and reached out for you. Just as he was about to hug you, you yelled, 'Think Fast, I'm A Random Girl'

- In an instant, he grabbed the front of your shirt, pulled you towards him, and let out the loudest burp in your face. It felt like an eternity had passed, but his burp hadn't stopped. When it finally ended, it was like your knees gave out, and you fell to the floor. "Did—um—did you just burp on my face?" "Well yeah, I had to do something. It was my defense mechanism" "YOUR DEFENSE MECHANISM WAS GAS??" "You told me to think fast. You gotta admit that was some pretty fast thinking, ay?" And with that, he turned back to the TV, finally deciding to watch Mean Girls.

Franco Colapinto

- Franco was anything but calm. If there was one Taylor Swift lyric he could relate it, it was 'I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me.' From the moment he made his debut in F1, everyone knew, this guy loves to be a menace. Be it his lack of PR-trained behavior or his ability to always do or say something that lands him in trouble (and the two of you in yet another PR meeting) So you thought, why not let his behavior influence you, just this once?

- So there you were, sitting with Alpine's admin, ready to pull this prank on him. The moment you got the signal from the admin, you made your way towards him. Franco saw you and smiled. As he started to make his way towards you, arms open expecting a hug, you quickly screamed 'Think Fast, I'm A Random Girl'

- Franco: "NO BACK OFF" "I'M GAY" You: 👁👄👁 Alpine's Admin : 👁👄👁 Pierre: 👁👄👁 Everyone Else: 👁👄👁 Franco looked around and saw everyone's reaction and immediately sprinted out of the garage. "FRANCO WAIT" With that, you ran after him. Seeing the chaos, the admin also started running after you guys, because there was no way in hell they were going to miss something like this.

Pierre Gasly

- Pierre had surprised you with a vacation during the one race-free week he had. You were beyond happy to finally get to spend some time with him. You had not been able to attend the first few races due to work, so some alone time together sounded amazing. While you were waiting for your room, you decided to scroll through TikTok. While doing that, one video caught your eye. Looking up at Pierre, you saw him look your way and give you a flying kiss. You smiled and looked back down at the video. You knew what you had to do.

- Setting up your phone near the edge of the jacuzzi, you leaned back into his arms. You tried really hard to suppress the smirk that was itching to make itself known. "Hey babe…" you said, looking at him. He nodded, signaling you to go on. You quickly blurted, 'Think Fast, I'm A Random Girl' and moved to kiss him.

- It was almost like he knew this would happen, because the second those words left your lips, he dunked your head underwater. So your phone captured good four seconds worth of footage of you flailing your arms and legs, trying to understand why you suddenly couldn't breathe. The moment you were back up, Pierre started laughing, looking at your expression. The whole thing was so unreal that you yourself couldn't help but laugh as you reached for your phone to end the video. Safe to say someone did not get lucky the entire vacation. And someone definitely ended up with a new necklace.

Daniel Ricciardo

- Grocery shopping was always a fun experience. Doing it with Daniel just made the entire experience even better. It was your thing. There had never been a single grocery trip that either of you had refused to go on. You love it so much that every time you see a grocery store trend, you guys immediately rush to the nearest one to your house and record one yourself. So, when you saw a video of someone doing this to their boyfriend in the grocery store, you immediately called Daniel and asked if he wanted to go for a grocery run.

- So there you were, in the cornflakes aisle, setting up your phone to record Daniel's reaction. Seeing you press record, Daniel walked into the frame and started to do a little dance. There couldn't have been a more perfect moment than this, when Danny was being himself. You walked towards him and quickly said, 'Think Fast, I'm A Random Girl'

- Daniel stopped whatever he was doing, turned to look at you, and said "I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND" The only problem was he said that a little too loud, because now two random shoppers, three workers, and one baby who was sitting on the cart were looking your way. After this, Danny immediately walked away to a different aisle. Leaving you standing there awkwardly looking like a stranger who hits on committed men. You quickly grabbed your phone and ran after him, already yelling "DANIEL JOSEPH RICCIARDO, GET BACK"

...

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dannyriccsystem · 11 days ago

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CUDDLE-BUGS!

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

SUMMARY: How the drivers like to cuddle :)

OVERALL W.C: 2.1K

WARNINGS: Fluff, slightly suggestive in a few of them

FEATURING: MV1, DR3, LN4, KA12, CL16, PA17, YT22, AA23, LH44, CS55, GR63, OP81, OB87

NOTE: Featuring Paul Aron as a special treat for the lots of fans he has here…

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

Oh this boy LOVES cuddling. Max is big on physical affection and you actually can’t convince me otherwise. He’s constantly sprawled across the sofa cushions with his head on your lap, and if you dare not play with his hair instantly, he will literally grab your hand and put it on his head like a silent command. He’s like a cat; as soon as you stop touching him, he’ll nuzzle against you until you continue.

Cue the Maxplaining. He’s rambling, talking with his hands while he looks up at the ceiling. You watch with a fond expression, brushing strands of hair away from his face while he goes on and on about the car and the physics behind it and all the great overtakes he’s witnessed. You’re listening, but not retaining the information, because all you can think about are his pretty eyes and how cute he is when he’s ranting.

When you’re both laying down, Max likes to be tucked into you. He usually has his nose buried in your neck, taking in the soft scent of your perfume. He’ll pepper you with lazy kisses; he only stops when he falls asleep, which usually doesn’t take that long. He’s knocked out in an instant. There’s something about you that lulls him to sleep almost instantly.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

This is the spooning truther. Daniel loves spooning, he thinks it’s so intimate and close. But here’s the grand question of the day: Is he the big spoon or the little spoon?

Well. Both.

It really depends. I think most days he’s the big spoon. He likes holding you in his muscular arms. It makes you feel extra small, which is a bonus in its own. He likes whispering little jokes and quips in your ear, and making you squirm when he lightly tickles your sides occasionally.

But sometimes he likes to be held too. He likes when your much smaller arms wrap around him, and he gets to feel vulnerable. Even if it’s just for a little bit. You’re warm as you snuggle him from behind, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. He likes how you cradle him and hold him like he’s the only person in the world.

So, yeah. This giant softie likes to be on the receiving end of your hugs every now and then. Be kind to him and let him show his soft side.

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

Lando streaming with his camera off, only because you’re asleep on his lap. His audience is wondering why his voice has lowered tenfold, and why his rage-quitting moments have been reduced to a soft bang of his fist on the desk followed by a gentle sigh.

Little do they know, your thighs are straddling him with your face tucked into the crook of his neck, snoring away. He’s cradling your figure with one hand, and using the other to play the game, which explains why his quality of performance has gone way down. He’s rubbing circles onto your back, occasionally kissing your scalp and forehead. He’ll lean away from the mic to whisper in your ear when you stir to consciousness, lulling you back into your slumber.

He loves the fact that you’re somewhat clingy with him. He loves how you have to be close to him—so much that you’re willing to just fall asleep right there on his lap. He’s burning the memory into his brain because he never wants to forget your cute sleepy face :)

—

KIMI ANTONELLI - KA12

I think Kimi’s hard to cuddle with sometimes. He’s always moving, and always talking. One second you’re spooning, the next he has his back to yours, and then he’s on top of you like a blanket, and then he rolls over and you’re on top of him… Yeah. Can’t hold still.

“Did I tell you about what Ollie said to me today?” He’d muse to your sleepy self, and before you could even utter a groggy no, he’d be telling you anyway. You often want to tell him to shut up and go to sleep, but he has that big dorky smile on his face and you just can’t say no.

Even long after you’ve fallen asleep, he continues yapping. It’s not until he actually realizes you’re happily snoring away that he finally quiets down and goes to sleep himself. He always asks if you find it annoying, but in reality his joyous voice and his fluctuating heartbeat, that you can hear with your head on his chest, are usually what ultimately lull you to sleep.

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

This boy needs a hug and you can tell. Whenever he comes home, no matter where he’s gone off to, it’s practically become a ritual for him to walk in pathetically, tail tucked between his legs. You’ve nearly conditioned him, and he doesn’t even realize it. The first time it happened was just a mere coincidence: he was genuinely upset, and you welcomed him with a warm bed and open arms.

Then it kept happening, and eventually you realized that he pretended to be upset every time he came home so that he could snuggle up against you and have you baby him all night. You have to wonder if Charles even realizes this anymore. It’s just part of your nightly routine at this point.

He practically flops on top of you as soon as you send him that little smile and open your arms. He buries his face in your neck, arms wrapped around your abdomen. All of a sudden that sad expression has been replaced by a shitty grin that tells you he won. This is heaven. He just doesn’t realize that you absolutely know what he’s up to…

—

PAUL ARON - PA17

Paul is a delight to cuddle with. An absolute delight. He’s quiet, respectful, and very affectionate. As soon as he sees you pull your current book out, he’s diving onto the bed to situate himself beside you. He has one arm thrown across your stomach, and his head resting on your shoulder. He sleepily studies your face, occasionally peeking at the words on the page.

His hands wander for sure, but not in a weird way. Lightly calloused palms spread out over your stomach, scratching you like you’re a dog. When you start to play with his curls, he essentially loses his grip on staying awake. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep at that point. Your fingers curl around his hair, playing with individual locks and blonde swirls.

Pepper his face with kisses once he’s asleep. He likes waking up to go to the bathroom, and finding that his face is covered in your lipstick. Absolute perfection. He doesn’t even bother wiping it off, he just joins you in bed again and happily dozes off again.

—

YUKI TSUNODA - YT22

I think it depends on Yuki’s mood. He’s either all over you, or he’s falling asleep as far away as possible. It’s not even like a… Yuki’s angry so he doesn’t want to cuddle. It's just that some days he’s not up for it, and that’s perfectly fine with you.

However, no matter what position you fall asleep in, you two almost always wake up in each other’s arms again. He’ll fall asleep saying he wants some space, and then you wake up and he’s squeezing you like you’re his personal stuffed animal, entirely unconscious whilst doing so. He may be small, but he has a mighty grip on you.

Not big on PDA, but when you’re alone together, he loves being all over you essentially. Let the guy climb you like a tree.

—

ALEX ALBON - AA23

Alex is one of those people that loves to be cuddling… Constantly. But his favorite is at the beach. Both of you could be sprawled out on a large towel or blanket, taking in the sun, and suddenly he’s pulling you to his side and clinging to you like a damn barnacle. He’s a gentleman, too. He’s always asking if you’re comfortable, and how he can get you to be comfortable if not.

Once you try to pull away, he tends to get a bit whiny. He’s pulling you back in his arms and pretending like you’ve really hurt his feelings by daring to get up. He’ll drag it on, too. “Sighh,” With the clutch of his chest as you wriggle around in his hold. “I can’t believe you hate me… Is it because I stink? Sighh…”

He’ll let you go, but not without a lot of complaining. It would be easier to just give him what he wants, honestly. But at the end of the day he really just wants to snuggle up behind you and fall asleep like that, your body pressed to his.

—

LEWIS HAMILTON - LH44

Unfortunately cuddling with Lewis always leads to a wholesome make out session. Or, maybe that’s more fortunate than anything. You plant yourself atop him, legs on either side of his lap. When you lean in to rest your head, you find yourself being pulled into a kiss instead.

You peck his lips momentarily, but he’s hungry and he keeps pulling you in for more whilst you share soft laughter. It could potentially develop into something more, but there’s always some obstacle. A few times you’ve accidentally bitten his lip a little too hard, and you both break away to laugh instead.

Cuddling is nice afterwards. He holds you like you’re his entire world— because you are. He’s both gentle and rough, soft and warm— Lewis is a dream. He’s the dream. He’s perfect.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

Carlos is a very traditional cuddler. When the two of you watch a movie together, he’ll casually throw his arm over your shoulder and tug you closer, usually kissing your scalp in the moment. He loves having you curled up next to him with your head on his chest.

It’s at this point he kind of stops focusing on the movie, and his attention diverts to you. Your smell, your sleepy eyes, your little giggles whenever something funny happens… Now he can’t seem to focus on anything but you, because he just is so infatuated with you.

I wouldn’t be surprised if the night ends in cheeky little kisses. If you’re lucky, maybe a bit more. He can’t help the way you make him feel.

—

GEORGE RUSSELL - GR63

George does not mind PDA, and he definitely favors a good lap cuddle. I think if you were both attending a late night event, he’d let you rest on his lap, even if others were watching. Your legs are thrown over his, and your face is nestled against his chest. He has one arm around you, and the other is over your lap to gently rub your thigh.

Other people used to stare, but everyone’s used to it by now. It’s not like you guys are being gross and secretly kissing and touching and giggling. You’re simply just asleep on his lap, and he’s softly rubbing your skin to help you stay that way. It’s cute.

If you don’t wake up, George will even carry you back to the car. He keeps his hand on your thigh as he drives because he knows it brings you comfort. Your joy is his top priority. Always.

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

Oscar shamelessly loves to be between your thighs.

Now, don’t get me wrong here. Not in a dirty way. He likes to lay his head back on your stomach with your legs on either side of him, framing his face. It’s oddly comforting to be lightly squeezed by your legs, he has to admit. Play with his hair a bit too, he could sleep there forever.

Sometimes the roles swap though. You find yourself between his meaty legs, encased by pure muscle. It’s like heaven, situating yourself there. However… Not to be crude, but he does have to keep his thoughts tame during the process, otherwise you’ve both got a mess to handle.

He’s not a huge cuddle bug I’d say, but when Oscar is in the mood for some intimate touching, it’s… Between your legs. Not like that! Most of the time.

—

OLIVER BEARMAN - OB87

He’s been eyeing you all night. Everytime you ask him what’s up, he denies it and says he was just zoning out, but there’s definitely something on Ollie’s mind. You think you have him figured out, but he’s not giving you much to work with… So you test it out.

You mutter a rather loud “it’s cold in here,” and it’s like he’s a sleeper agent being awoken by those code words. He turns to you quickly, and suddenly he’s up from his position on a nearby chair. He walks over to his bed, and flops down right on top of you, all 6 feet and 2 inches of Ollie smothering you.

He even pulls a blanket up on top of that. He’ll bury his face in your chest, a stupid grin covering his face. He’s right where he wants to be.

1K notes · View notes

no-144444 · 7 months ago

Text

The Grid! : When their teammate likes you...

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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: somehow plays it cool…

Oscar understood that you were a magnetic person. You’d always been more extroverted than him, always been a bit more open to other people, and generally, you were just interesting. He got where Lando was coming from, to be fair, he’d fallen for you too.

But openly flirting with you in the middle of a red flag during one of the most dangerous races of the season? That took a certain asshole.

Lando Norris.

Oscar had looked up to Lando throughout his career, and now having him as his teammate was brilliant. He loved it, up to a point. In recent months he’d been noticing the way Lando looked at you. The way he talked to you. The way he always wanted to be around you.

“Hey baby,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around Oscar as he walked up. “Doing well out there.”

He also knew that you were less than interested in Lando. Not that you didn’t like him, but you did find him slightly immature and ridiculous, especially with how he handles races and media afterwards. You much preferred Oscar’s style of driving, and his way of speaking.

Oscar nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He watched as Lando’s face fell, then he quickly picked it back up. “Doing our best, right Lando?”

You both looked to Lando, who looked guilty, like he’d been caught.

“Yeah mate,” he agreed before walking off.

“Jealous much?” you smirked, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Oscar shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Just wanted a kiss, that’s all.”

“From me or Lando?” you teased.

“You, obviously,” he mocked.

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Lando Norris: deeply insecure.

Lando is insecure about a lot of things. One of his main ones is his worth as a human, and a driver. It hit him hard when Oscar got to stand on the top step of a podium before he ever had. He knew it was a matter of circumstance and the fact that the car was getting better, but it still hurt. Yet, you were always there to pick up the pieces. His sweet, kind girlfriend who was always there for him.

That same girlfriend that was laughing at a joke Oscar told. Oscar wasn’t funny. Oscar has never been funny.

Lando watched as you two talked. He watched the way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you engaged with his points and added your own. The way you two easily laughed, joked, and teased each other without ever going too far.

He couldn’t help but feel… without. You had always been more introverted, and your extroverted side always seemed to come out with other introverts, aka, not Lando. Then began his spiralling of wondering whether or not he was good enough for you. He knew you loved him, and he loved you, but would that be enough? When you’re so different? When he can’t give you what Oscar can? Oscar was a 2-time-Gp winner in his second year. Oscar was more similar to you than Lando was. Oscar’s personality was closer to yours than Lando’s was.

Was he enough for you?

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He walked into the hotel room, exhausted, and glad that the day was over. Media days took it out of him, and he was sick of watching Oscar’s smug face as he charmed you all day.

You flung yourself on the bed, exhausted. “Oscar would not shut up today, would he?” you sighed.

Lando’s lips quirked up into a smile. He turned to hide it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He kept talking to me about random shit, and I had to pretend to be interested all day.”

Lando almost laughed. “You don’t seem to mind when I talk your ear off.”

“Yeah, obviously not,” you scoffed, looking at him as if it were obvious. “I like your rants. You don’t expect me to answer you all the time. You just let me listen. Plus, I love your voice.”

Lando’s heart felt fuller than it did before. You picked him. You loved him.

“You like my voice, eh?” he smirked, joining you on the bed. He pressed soft kisses to your neck as he wrapped his arms around you. “I know a way you can hear it-”

“Lando, did I not just say I’m exhausted,” you chuckled, playfully pushing him off.

He smiled. You truly were perfect.

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Lewis Hamilton: unbothered

He watched as George attempted to flirt with you and laughed. You laughed too, thinking it was a joke. George walked off, embarrassed.

Lewis walked over and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. “George is-”

“Pathetic?” he offered and you shook your head.

“Don’t be so mean!” you scolded.

“He’s a big boy, he can take it,” he smirked. “And anyways, what was he thinking?”

“I am your wife,” you nodded, agreeing. “But he is pretty cute…”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?” he teased.

You laughed. “Never.”

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George Russell: trusts you

“Lewis, nice to meet you,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “I’m Y/n Russell.”

“Y/n… your sister?” Lewis turned to George, smirking. “I didn’t realise she was so pretty, I guess someone had to take all the beauty genes.”

“She’s my wife,” he smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist. “And yes, she is gorgeous.”

You somehow kept it together as Lewis apologised and walked off, but immediately broke out into laughter as he turned his back.

“What a dick,” George chuckled. “You alright?”

“All good baby,” you giggled. “A bit weirded out that he thought we were siblings.”

George nodded, grimacing. “I vote we never speak about this again.”

“I second that,” you nodded.

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Kimi Antonelli: confused more than anything

Ollie was a really nice guy, one of Kimi’s best friends despite only knowing each other for a year. He was a good teammate and a good friend.

Kimi was clueless. He didn’t always understand what people meant when people ‘flirted’, to be fair, English was his second language. He watched as Ollie wrapped an arm around you, resting it over your shoulder as you grimaced, clearly wanting him to stop. Kimi just shrugged, assuming you’d just push him off or ask him to stop. You weren’t exactly known to put up with shit like that, so he wasn’t worried. You three walked around the Monaco bay, looking at the boats as the sun set, all three of you full from dinner. When you finally parted ways, you and Kimi went back to your hotel room as Ollie stayed out, going to Arthur’s house to visit, you sighed as you lay down.

“What did you think of Ollie?” Kimi asked, laying beside you, your back to him.

“Apart from his obvious flirting, I thought he was nice, I guess,” you shrugged.

Kimi frowned. “What do you mean?”

You turned around to see him. “Him flirting? Yeah, I thought you’d say something about it,” you explained. “He was kind of… weird about it.”

“Did he make you uncomfortable?” he asked, upset with himself that he hadn't noticed.

You stared at him with an inquisitive look, he really was oblivious. “Of course he did.”

“What?” he questioned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to make a bad impression,” you muttered. “He’s your best friend.”

“And you’re my girlfriend,” he reminded you, taking your hand. “And you are more important. If someone makes you uncomfortable, you tell me and I will deal with it, alright?”

You nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his hand. “Thanks Kimi.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled.

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Alex Albon: slightly insecure…

He sat in his drivers room, he’d just filmed Team Torque with you and Logan, and he couldn’t help but feel… left out. You were American, specifically from the exact state of Florida, where Logan was from, you lived on the same street. You’d grown up together before he left to move to do European single-seaters. The entire episode was just you two talking and reminiscing over your joint experiences as a kid. Logan remembered everything about you, your favourite colour, your favourite food, even your favourite childhood movie (which Alex had gotten wrong).

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, sitting beside him. “You’re not talking.”

“I didn’t know you and Logan were such good friends,” he admitted.

You shrugged. “We grew up together.”

“I know,” he responded, his voice low and hardened. “I didn’t know he’d remember everything about you.”

“I mean, people told me he had a crush on me in middle school so…” you trailed off when you noticed how Alex was closing his eyes and nodding. “Are you… jealous, or something?”

“No.” Yes.

You smiled, feeling a little bit guilty. “Alex, you don’t have to be jealous,” you assured him. “I love you. More than anything.”

The pain in his chest eased slightly. “You’re sure?”

“Very,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

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Franco Colapinto: doesn’t even notice or gaf

Alex laughed at one of your jokes as Franco looked over some of the data from his crash. After a while, you walked over, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind.

“Hi bebé,” he smiled, tired, but happy to see you. “How are you?”

You groaned. “Alex keeps flirting with me.”

His ears pricked up hearing you say that. “Alex?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. He turned to you.

“Should I ask him to stop? I can talk to him-”

“It’s alright, I made him aware of the fact that I’m not interested,” you explained.

“Oh, alright,” he shrugged. “Once you’re happy.”

He went back to looking over the data and you frowned. No reaction? No possessiveness?

“You don’t mind?” you questioned.

“That he was flirting with you?” he asked, you nodded. “No, not really. I’m the one you’ve chosen for 3 years. We love each other, sí?”

You nodded.

“So we’re fine,” he smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

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Logan Sargeant: also a bit upset…

He sighed as he watched Alex chat to you, a smirk on his face. You were his girlfriend, Alex couldn’t have you. Alex had James, Alex had Williams, Alex had the talent. Logan had you. Alex couldn’t have you.

You glanced back at Logan, who had grown quieter in recent moments, and you frowned. His eyes were blown up, wide-eyed, mouth open, and his mind was thousands of miles away. You politely ended the conversation with Alex, dragging Logan back into his driver's room with a concerned expression. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, trying to play it off. “I”m fine, just… tired.”

You frowned again. “Logan, you can talk to me.”

He shook his head, his hands gripping your waist, then the dam broke and he rested his head on your shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you if I lose this.”

Your heart broke. “Logan you’d-“

“No, please just let me talk,” he whispered. “I love you, more than anything. We both know I’m getting replaced either after or during this season,” hearing him say it as such a definite, hurt you. You knew how badly Williams had messed him up, but to hear him so defeated? You could’ve cried. “And I don’t want to lose you if I lose all of this. I love racing, but I love you more. You’ve been here through everything, always. You’re always here for me, and I just hope I haven’t fucked this whole relationship up with all my mental health stuff and being a bad driver-”

“Logan,” your tone was stern. “I love you. I love you, my Logan. I support ‘F1 driver Logan Sargeant’, and you’ll always be that, but I love Logan Sargeant, the boy who asked me out when I was 14 and never looked back, the boy who has made me feel loved and supported since that day, the boy who fought an uphill battle and is only now realising he’s allowed to let the boulder fall. I love that you’re a fighter. I love that you’re a driver. But I love most that you care about and love me. I care more about your mental health than any money or fame you could ever gain. I’m not asking you to keep putting yourself through this, Logan. I want you to be healthy and happy. I want you to smile again. I want to see the real you again.”

“What is the real me if I’m not winning?” his voice was just below a whisper.

“You get to figure that out,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now please look at me Logan, so you know that I’m telling the truth.”

He raised his head, his eyes watery as he looked at yours, and for the first time in a while, he actually felt like it might all be ok.

Granted, only when he was with you, but alright all the same.

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Daniel Riccardo: freaky wit it

Daniel gripped his steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white under his gloves. He was in the car, meant to be in the zone, but all he could think about was the way that Yuki had a hand on your back. He knew Yuki definitely wasn’t a threat to him or his relationship, but it still felt shitty not being able to get over there and show him that you were his.

He rushed out of the car, exhausted after bringing the VCarb in Q3 yet again, and immediately his hands were on you.

“Looking so good today baby,” he whispered between kisses. “So fuckin’ pretty for me.”

You groaned against his lips, smiling. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah baby, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he smirked as he pushed a hand into your underwear. Your eyes went wide and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from moaning too loud. You weren’t even in his drivers room, you were doing it against Yuki’s door in the hallway.

“We should-fuck- we should go to your r-room,” you stuttered out as he rubbed your clit in lazy circles.

“Why?” he smirked. “When I could have you right here and now,” he punctuated every word with a kiss, moving your hand and swallowing your moans as he sped up. “So fuckin’ beautiful so me.”

“Dan,” you moaned as he finally pushed a finger in.

“So wet for me too. You like doing it like this? Where anyone could hear you? Anyone could see us?” he knew his words were falling on deaf ears as he revelled in the fact that he got to watch you fall apart for him. He got to make you cum, he got to kiss you, he heard every laugh, saw every part of you and your personality. It was him who you picked to love, and be loved in return.

And by God, he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

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Liam Lawson: angry sex anyone???

Liam grabbed your hand, pulling you into his drivers room after he had watched Yuki give you heart-eyes yet again.

“That fucking dick,” he seethed, pressing his body against yours, pressing kisses up and down your neck. “Always fuckin’ wants what’s mine.”

“Liam,” you whimpered as he pushed you down on the bed. “Please.”

Any and all control of himself was abandoned, and he pulled his race suit off, watching as you pulled off your dress.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he cursed, climbing on top of you as he smirked. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slowly pushed inside you. It burned, in the best way. “All yours.”

He smiled. “That’s my girl, taking me so well.”

Once he was fully inside and you were comfortable, he was thrusting in and out of you at a rate previously unknown to Liam. Did he like fast and rough sex? Yes. Was it ever this fast? No. Was it ever this rough? … no comment. He was grabbing and smacking all over your ass and tits, you were too busy gripping onto his hair as he used you how he pleased, all the while cursing out Yuki and praising you.

You both left the driver’s room a little bit less steady than before, but much more satisfied than going in. Liam felt better too, since he’d given you something to show just how much he meant it when he said he was yours, and you were his. That something stayed dripping down your leg as Liam finished the race, ahead of Yuki.

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Charles LeClerc: death?

He watched, the light in his eyes slowly dying, as you spoke animatedly to Carlos.

Carlos Sainz, now number one enemy of Charles LeClerc.

Honestly, he knew you’d never choose anyone over him, you loved him and he knew that. Still, some voice inside of him continued to urge him to run over to you two and scream ‘mine’ and then run off with you. He didn’t, obviously. He knew you would’ve been mad at him if he did.

As the day continued, you stayed talking to Carlos, every so often, Charles would interject with a sarcastic comment, or some stupid fact about you, then following it up with ‘yeah, I know more than you’. It turned the two of them into school children. Both of them coming to you at different times of the day with random facts about random things, until you finally told them both to stop and share their love of facts with each other, not you. You had gotten so frustrated with the two of them, that you didn’t even want to speak to Charles.

They both stopped after that.

Any time Charles was jealous after that palaver? Yeah, he just stuck with the regular PDA overload. He didn’t want to deal with another sex ban.

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Carlos Sainz: also freaky wit it

His gaze darkened as he watched Charles put a hand on your shoulder. Bullshit. You were his girlfriend. You were his.

“Querida, stop fucking with me,” he demanded, a tight hold on your arm as he dragged you into his hotel room, 30 minutes later.

You scoffed. “I’m shockingly not fucking with you at all,” you smiled, annoyed but unsurprised at his shitty behaviour. “In fact, I was being perfectly nice to everyone, including you, all night.”

He watched as you sat on the bed, exasperated and tired of his behaviour. He noticed how you quickly pulled off your heel, took down your hair and sighed, staring at him.

“What?” you asked. “What did I do now?”

Part of him left bad, it wasn’t your fault that you were irresistible. It wasn’t your fault that Charles thought he could have whatever he wanted. It wasn’t your fault that you had to be kind, just to keep up appearances. It still made his blood boil, but he did appreciate the fact that it wasn’t technically your fault.

But someone had to help him get rid of all of this pent up tension.

“On your knees,” he spoke, his voice low and laced with desire. Your eyes widened, but you did as he said anyway and sank down to your knees in front of him, “It’s going to be a long night, querida. I can’t wait to see your pretty makeup smudged,” he smiled sadistically as you tried to not be as turned on as you were.

I guess you two were a match made in heaven, or maybe hell.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Arthur LeClerc: plays his jealousy off… (not)

He grabbed a handful of your ass, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to yours as you yelped. You had been unsuspecting as you leaned over the guest barrier, trying to hear what Manuel was saying to you, when Arthur had caught his other teammate, Charles, staring at you with a smirk.

You shoved him off after a few seconds and stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

He shrugged. “Je voulais t'embrasser,” (I wanted to kiss you). “Is that a crime?”

“When you’re doing it like that, yes,” you chuckled, amused by his jealousy.

“What?’ he smirked. “You don’t like it?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Arthur LeClerc,” your tone was warning. “Don’t push it,” you leaned in closer, whispering. “Tout le monde n'est pas aussi obsédé par moi que toi, arrête d'être jaloux.” (Not everyone is as obsessed with me as you, stop being jealous).

He laughed. “Tu es irrésistible,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “I cannot help it!” You gave him the finger as he walked away, and he blew you a kiss.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Ollie Bearman: a bit upset…

He literally hit his head against the desk as he watched Kimi flash you his signature smile. He was sick of it. You were his girlfriend, not Kimi's best friend. You were his girlfriend. Alas, he couldn’t exactly whisk you away, you were his race engineer after all, and this was a strategy meeting, so he sucked it up and paid attention, trying not to look at you.

You’d noticed how low Ollie had been all day and caught up with him as you walked out of the strategy meeting. “You alright?” you asked, wrapping one his arms around your shoulders as you walked beside him, away from the rest of the group.

“I’m alright,” he lied, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes on his lips. You frowned.

“Please talk to me,” you begged. “I don’t like it when you shut me out.”

He sighed. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” you smiled. “I’m sure it’s not Ollie, just talk to me.”

“I don’t like how close Kimi is to you,” he admitted. “I’m… It makes me jealous sometimes.”

Your face softened. “So I’ll put some distance,” you shrugged. “Easy.”

He did a double-take. “N-no I- you don’t have to do-”

“Ollie. I want us to work, and if that means I have to ask Kimi to back off a little bit, then I’ll do it, yeah?”

Ollie nodded. “I’m sorry-”

“Shut up and kiss me, Bearman,” you rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your lips to his.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Max Verstappen: ummm guys???

Max would be an insufferable child. He would literally hide their gloves and racing shoes, he would put dish-soap in their bottle, he’d somehow fuck up their laundry, and all because they looked at you too long. You were his, why would anyone else think you were available.

There he was, on live, racing with his team, when you came over with another can of redbull for him. He’d been focused on the game, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimpse of his teammate, Luke’s stream. He saw him checking you out.

He saw red.

“Luke, do you need something or do you just like staring at my girlfriend?” he scoffed and you groaned. He wasn’t unknown to make scenes in public.

“Max,” you groaned. “Please don’t.”

He rolled his eyes and settled for a kiss on the cheek while Luke just blushed. Max understood where he was coming from, you were fucking gorgeous. That still didn’t make it right though.

Again, a little while later, he caught Luke staring at you as you sat in the back of his set up, watching the race silently.

“Seriously Luke, do I need to turn off my camera or can you act like an adult and keep it in your pants?” He scoffed. “Het is onzin,”(it’s bullshit) he sighed.

“Max, calm down,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, muting his mic. “Who gives a fuck about Luke?”

He groaned, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he admitted.

“I’m a big girl, I’ll be alright,” you smiled, kissing him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled, then went back to his racing, though he did push Luke off the track (in the game) a few (7) times.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Paul Aron: he trusts you.

He sighed, watching Armaury place a hand on your waist. Was he losing you?

Then he smiled as he watched you shove him off, shouting in his face. You were a big girl, you could handle yourself. You didn’t always need Paul to come in and protect you, he loved that about you. He felt his sense of pride growing as you walked over, still shouting at his teammate who was looking increasingly guilty and uncomfortable, even more so when you ran over to Paul and kissed him right there and then, in front of everyone.

Yeah, he really had nothing to worry about.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Lance Stroll: mf he is scary.

Lance smirked as he watched James (a friend of his) wrap an arm around your waist as you danced with a couple friends. Your face screwed up into one of disgust, and you politely excused yourself to get another drink. James sauntered over to Lance, a smug smile on his face.

“Might want to keep your lady on a tighter leash,” he smirked.

“Oh yeah?” Lance cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah man, she was dancing all over me!” he chuckled. “Seriously, I’d steal if she wasn’t such a-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he told him, his tone dangerous. “My girlfriend is exactly that, my girlfriend. If you want to go dance with her and make her uncomfortable, that’s your prerogative, but don’t be surprised when I punch you for it.”

His ‘friend’ left quickly after that. He didn’t bother you again.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Jack Doohan: maybe a bit angry…

He scoffed as he watched Pierre try yet another pick-up line on you and he felt himself get even angrier. Yes, he was the new guy. Yes, he should definitely bite his tongue and suck it up. Did he do that? No…

He went over to you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your head as Pierre’s face fell into a frown.

“Oh, you two are-!” He started.

“Together? Yeah. 3 years, right babe?” He smiled, a little too smiley for regular Jack.

“3 years, sounds right,” you nodded. “Nice to meet you Pierre,” you smiled before walking off, away from the two of them. Jack followed behind you and you sighed. “You’re an idiot.”

“It’s not my fault I have a hot girlfriend,” he defended.

“It’s not my fault I’m the hot girlfriend!” You laughed. “Just… keep your jealousy to yourself in the future!”

He grabbed onto your waist a pleading look in his eye. “But you make it so hard…”

“Don’t give me ‘fuck me’ eyes right now Jack Doohan,” you scoffed, pushing him off. “You are such a child.”

He chuckled, happy with himself.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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ari-ana-bel-la · 2 months ago

Note

Hi Pookie

I wanted to request A Max daughter one like Max and Kelly had the baby and the reader is like 16-17 (she can drive) and she gets into a really really bad car accident (like so bad she was in a coma or something) and the hospital calls both but they don't answer since they're busy with the baby. they have been neglecting her. Until they called another driver and they went to her and like they lecture Max and Kelly.

Unanswered Calls

Part 2: Answered Calls

Yn gripped the steering wheel with shaky hands, her breathing uneven as she blinked back the sting of exhaustion. The streetlights blurred as rain splattered against the windshield, the rhythmic thudding of wipers doing little to clear her vision.

She was used to being on her own.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t asked. Earlier that afternoon, she had stood at the kitchen counter, bag in hand, waiting.

“Mom, Dad, I have ballet at six,” she had said, shifting her weight awkwardly as Kelly rocked the baby in her arms and Max tried to calm Penelope, who was throwing a fit about something.

Neither of them had even turned toward her.

“I can’t right now, sweetie,” Kelly had murmured distractedly, adjusting the baby’s tiny blanket.

“Ask your mom, I—Penelope, please, stop screaming,” Max had muttered, rubbing his temple as he tried to negotiate with his six-year-old daughter.

Yn had nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She didn’t ask again. She was used to this—being the afterthought, the independent one, the one who didn’t need attention because she never demanded it. So she had grabbed her car keys, not trusting herself to be upset.

Now, barely an hour later, everything was going wrong.

Her tires hit a patch of water, hydroplaning before she could react. The world spun. A blaring horn. The sharp, crunching sound of metal on metal. A shock of pain. Then, blackness.

Daniel was halfway through dinner when his phone buzzed. He almost ignored it, expecting it to be some stupid spam call, but something made him glance down.

Unknown Number.

Frowning, he wiped his hands on a napkin before answering. “Hello?”

��Is this Daniel?” A woman's voice, professional but urgent. “Daniel Ric—”

“Yes, yes, who is this?” He sat up straight, suddenly alert.

“This is St. James Hospital. Your goddaughter, Yn Verstappen, was in a severe car accident. You were listed as an emergency contact. We’ve been trying to reach her parents, but—”

Daniel was already on his feet, chair scraping against the floor. “Where is she? What happened?”

“She sustained significant injuries, including lung trauma. We had to place a chest tube to assist her breathing. The doctors have decided to keep her in a medically induced sleep for a few days to help her body recover.”

His stomach twisted. “And Max and Kelly? Her parents?”

“We’ve called multiple times. No answer.”

Daniel clenched his jaw. “I’ll be there in ten.”

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and something too clean to be comforting. Daniel rushed through the corridors, his pulse hammering in his throat as he found Yn’s room.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight.

She lay there, pale against the hospital sheets, her face bruised, her arm wrapped in gauze. Tubes ran from her chest, connected to a machine that beeped steadily.

A nurse—young, with kind eyes—stood by the bedside, adjusting the IV. She looked up as he entered. “Are you Daniel?”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

“I’m Nurse Emily. She’s stable for now.”

He approached the bed slowly, his heart aching. “Jesus, kid…” He ran a shaky hand through his hair before sitting beside her.

For a moment, he just stared at her. Yn, who had always been so full of life, so determined to carve her own space in a world that never seemed to make room for her. Now she lay still, fragile in a way he had never seen before.

He reached out, brushing her hair from her forehead. “I’m here, Yn,” he whispered.

Emily hesitated before speaking. “You’re the first person who answered.”

Daniel frowned. “What do you mean?”

She sighed. “We called her parents over and over. No answer. No call back.”

Daniel’s hands curled into fists. “They didn’t even pick up?”

Emily shook her head. “Not once.”

Daniel let out a slow, furious breath. Then he pulled out his phone and called Max.

Voicemail.

He tried Kelly.

Voicemail.

Grinding his teeth, he left a message. “Max. Kelly. Your daughter is in the hospital. She was in a bad car accident. Call me back. Now.”

An hour passed. Nothing.

Two hours.

Three.

Four.

Yn remained unconscious, her chest rising and falling with the help of the machines. Daniel stayed at her side, his anger growing hotter with every minute.

When Max and Kelly finally walked through the door, he was ready.

Kelly looked tired. Max looked confused.

“Daniel, what’s going on?” Max asked, frowning.

Daniel stood up slowly. “What’s going on?” His voice was too calm. “You tell me, Max. Kelly. Where the hell have you been?”

Kelly blinked. “At home, we—”

“At home?” Daniel let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Your daughter has been lying in this hospital bed for hours, and you were at home?”

Max’s expression darkened. “We didn’t get any calls.”

“Bullshit.” Daniel pulled out his phone and waved it. “I called you. The hospital called you. They tried for hours. But I guess you were too busy to notice your own daughter almost died.”

Kelly paled. “Died?” Her voice wavered as she looked at Yn. “Oh my God.”

Max took a step forward, but Daniel blocked him. “Don’t.” His voice was steel. “You don’t get to come in here now and pretend you care.”

Max’s jaw clenched. “Of course we care.”

Daniel scoffed. “Do you? Because she drove herself to ballet since neither of you could be bothered. She’s seventeen, Max. A kid. But she didn’t even ask twice because she already knew the answer.”

Kelly looked away, shame creeping into her features.

Daniel continued, voice shaking with anger. “She was alone when the accident happened. Alone when they brought her here. And when the doctors needed her parents, where were you?”

Silence.

Daniel exhaled sharply. “She’s used to this, you know?” His voice was quiet now, but no less furious. “She’s used to being second to Penelope, to the baby, to everything else in your lives. She doesn’t complain. She doesn’t make a fuss. She just… deals with it.” He swallowed hard. “But this? This she couldn’t deal with alone.”

Max ran a hand down his face, guilt creeping in. “I—”

“I don’t want excuses,” Daniel snapped. “I want you to do better.”

Kelly’s eyes filled with tears. “Can we see her?”

Daniel stepped aside. “She’s been waiting long enough.”

Max walked to the bed, his hands trembling as he reached for Yn’s fingers. “Oh, sweetheart…” His voice broke.

Kelly sat on the other side, her hand covering her mouth as silent tears slipped down her face.

Daniel crossed his arms, watching.

They could cry all they wanted. But the real question was—would they change?

And for Yn’s sake, they damn well better.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you. No Part 2 requests, please.

-🩷🎀

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skullsfiction · 11 months ago

Note

Heloo can I request a smau where the reader and lando are dating and they always do date nights but its not really a date night cus oscar is always with them everytime lily isnt there and he just becomes their child 😭 thank you thank youu

just us, and your friend steve | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: at first you were annoyed by oscar being at all of your dates, until you started to miss him when he wasn’t.

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 572,016 others!

yourusername: date night with my boyfriend <3…and his boyfriend!

view comments below!

user1: oscar the certified 3rd wheel

user2: that picture is so cute

landonorris: i love you :)

yourusername: haha simp

landonorris: oscar give my girlfriend her phone back

yourusername: fine 😒

yourusername: i love you too lan :D

landonorris: there she is!

user3: man i would KILL to be a third wheel in this relationship

user4: i would be landos boyfriend 😏

user5: is lando oscar’s only friend??

landonorris: yes!

oscarpiastri: it’s not nice to lie lando

landonorris: im not lying?

oscarpiastri: i have other friends!

landonorris: oh…then why don’t you go hangout with them instead of 3rd wheeling with me and my girlfriend?

oscarpiastri: …

landonorris: that’s what i thought!

yourusername: that was not nice lando.

landonorris: it wasn’t meant to be nice, it was the truth!

yourusername: still, it was mean.

oscarpiastri; yeah lando. it was MEAN.

landonorris: don’t gang up on me??

user6: LMAOO they hang out for one night and they become like this 🤞

user7: i need more of this trio

danielricciardo: and why wasn’t i invited?

maxverstappen1: i have the same question?

landonorris: because you guys have other friends! for osc it’s just me and yn

oscarpiastri; I HAVE OTHER FRIENDS.

landonorris: shhh, shhh, shhh baby it’s okay. it’s okay.

yourusername: baby 🤨

landonorris: omg it just slipped out

user8: that’s…interesting!

user9: yn and lando are so cute together

user9: and oscar cute too ig?

user10: you guess?? that man is gorgeous

user11: the “…and his boyfriend” is TOOO funny. yn i love you

user12: she’s seriously so funny

user13: how can people hate her?

user14: they’re most definitely just jealous

maxverstappen1: oh but when i want to make a heart shaped pizza with you it’s weird?

landonorris: yes!

maxverstappen1: double standard much?

landonorris: she’s my GIRLFRIEND

maxverstappen1: AND WHAT AM I?

user15: i feel like im interrupting something

yourusername: how do you think i feel…

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 528,058 others!

yourusername: paddle and golf with my baby <3 and my baby 🥹

view comments below!

landonorris: why does he get the cool picture and i get that?

yourusername: i think both pictures summarize you guys perfectly!

landonorris: so he’s cool while i’m a loser?

yourusername: i didn’t say that but…

landonorris: WOW, already favoriting the child. i can’t believe this.

yourusername: my child will ALWAYS come first.

oscarpiastri: :D

user16: we went from “my bfs bf” to “my child 🥹”

user17: WE DID IT GUYS

user18: yn and lando adopting oscar agenda is HAPPENING

charle_leclerc: are you trying to steal my child from me?

yourusername: it’s not really stealing if he willingly comes with…

charles_leclerc: it’s just stockholm syndrome, don’t worry oscar i’ll get you away from them soon

oscarpiastri: im actually having lots of fun :)

charles_leclerc: OMG WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM

user19: we got lando and yn adopting oscar…but we lost this during

user20: totally worth it

danielricciardo: when is it my time to be adopted?

maxverstappen1: you are a 35 year old grown man.

danielricciardo: 😐

user21: why is max coming for daniel??

maxverstappen1: i’m bored. since APPARENTLY i’m not landos paddle partner anymore

landonorris: max…i can explain…

maxverstappen1: save it. don’t call me. don’t come by my house. we’re done.

landonorris: i see you watched diary of a wimpy kid

maxverstappen1: i did indeed..

user24: they’re at it again…

user22: max is so funny

user23: i love him

user24: oscar being so quite during all of his is so him coded

user25: he’s just enjoying being out and about

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 601,958 others!

yourusername: vacation with the boyfie <3

view comments below!

user26: omg lando looks so good

user26: i’m going into heat

user26: WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF

user26: GRRRR

user27: this is the first post in 2 months that doesn’t have oscar…

user28: and the crowd…cry’s?

user29; i can’t be the only one who thought oscar would 100% go with them on vacation

user30: i definitely thought so too!

user31: they’ve literally spend all their extra time together

maxverstappen1: how many times did he belly flop?

yourusername: i’ve been swore to secrecy.

user32: she’s so lucky

user33: right? ‘the boyfie’ IMAGINE BEING ABLE TO CALL LANDO NORRIS YOUR BF??

charles_leclerc: guess who’s with me right now 😏

landonorris: charles…don’t.

charles_leclerc: hehehe

yourusername: you’re just his rebound. you’ll never be me.

charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiatsri what do you think?

oscarpiastri: i still like yn better

charles_leclerc: i bought you ice cream…

oscarpiatri: you could never be her 🤷

yourusername; IM COMING HOME FOR YOU OSCAR

landonorris: see what you did charles?

maxverstappen1: how are you holding up?

yourusername: i feel like my hearts been ripped out of my chest. i have no reason to wake up.

maxverstappen1: oh!

user34: max was NOT expecting that answer

user35: if oscar doesn’t get himself over to that damn island soon istg

user36: THATS HER BOY 💔💔💔

oscarpiastri: did you find any crabs? :D

yourusername: yes. i will put them in my suitcase and take them with me to show you

user37: so this is crazy!

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 713,046 others!

yourusername: look who joined us!! my son <3

view comments below!

user38: THEY REUNITED!!!

maxverstappen1: how did she take it? 🤣

landonorris: she cried.

yourusername: i did not!

landonorris: yeah baby you did…

oscarpiastri: yn you know how much i hate agreeing with lando, but yes you did cry

yourusername: I MISSED MY SON, GOD FORBID I CRY??

user39: i get you yn. i really do

user40: omg this is so cute

user41: truly adorable

oscarpiastri: now i can see all the crabs in person :D

yourusername; THATS MY SON EVERYONE

charles_leclerc: he was mine first 🥲

yourusername: #getoverit??

landonorris; can’t believe you cried when you saw him

yourusername: i was EMOTIONAL

landonorris: in the four years we’ve been dating you have never cried when seeing me

yourusername: i see you all the time! no need to cry!

landonorris: i want you to cry! cry for me!

oscarpiastri: you could never be me ;)

landonorris: i will send you back to australia

yourusername: if you send him back, i’m going with him

landonorris: WOW.

user42: we have officially entered the era where yn is choosing oscar over lando

user43: her son > her boyfriend

danielricciardo: does this mean i can hop on a plane and go visit you

landonorris: NO. this is officially a family vacation.

danielricciardo: and i’m not family? 💔

yourusername: you’re that one uncle that you see twice a year and don’t talk to or interact with for the rest of said year.

danielricciardo; yeah that makes sense.

. . .

notes; thank you for requesting!! hope you enjoyed :)

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bonbonly · 6 months ago

Note

Thoughts on reader in a glory hole used by multiple drivers?

bon's thoughts (18+)

this is just gonna be a rant because now i cant stop thinking this is GRID BUNNY CORE. i think about sebastian vettel going "where are the grid girls?!?!" and this is it LMFAO.

no one knows about your identity, you're just there with the promise of a good pay. you're not interested in the drivers, nor are they necessarily interested in you. but god, whenever they were in the paddock, all they could talk about was how good your cunt was.

first person to use you is definitely going to be lewis hamilton, he's the one who even suggested the idea. you cannot convince me that the man isn't freaky like that. he's very gentle with you, praising you for being able to take everyone so well.

max likes to hear you beg. he wants to hear you begging him. everything's so easy for him anyway, he wants a good challenge to test him like this.

oscar's sweet self is definitely making sure you cum before him, and he's even ok if he doesn't cum. he just awkwardly says hi to your cunt, and you're giggling saying hi back even though he can't see your face.

lando's probably really quiet, but when you finally snap and say ok am i fucking a ghost or what? he's smiling like an idiot and he's talking you through the process, "you like it when i fuck you like this, yeah?"

carlos has no idea what was going on until lando told him about it and so he decides to try for himself. seeing you like that, spread out for him, he's chuckling to himself and saying he could get definitely get used to do this. his thrusts are always slow and deep because he wants to be the one you think about the most.

too bad, charles is one upping him. charles doesn't really show up to the glory hole as much as the others because he likes to think he's better than everyone. and then ferrari will mess up a race and he's shoving everyone to the side, demanding to use you as a means to get rid of his frustration. he's definitely overstimulating you, making you cry and beg as he's pushing you to your 4th orgasm in just minutes of him getting started.

daniel ricciardo would have cracked jokes, 100% would've cracked jokes the entire time, and you're always moaning in between laughs. he's definitely grabbing your as he fucks you, he's definitely an ass man.

and because i mentioned sebastian earlier im going to include sebastian bc i love seb to death, this man found out second because of lewis and he was instantly so happy and excited. he's also praising you, but his words straight filth, "ah, im so glad this little whore's so excited about taking my cock, your pussy's perfect around me. forget about eating at a fancy restaurant, im eating you out for the next day!"

#bon's thoughts #bon's anons #bon's asks #carlos sainz smut #charles leclerc smut #sebastian vettel smut #lewis hamilton smut #oscar piastri smut #lando norris smut #daniel ricciardo smut #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader

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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

Text

White Horse - Chapter 13: February 2024 - Part 2

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes:

we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families, Me trying to write therapy sessions.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Group Chat: HELP ME

(Members: Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton)

Lando: ok wait, are we sending flowers??

Oscar: flowers seem good

Daniel: FLOWERS YES but like what KIND of flowers

Lando: nothing too funeral Lando: nothing too romantic Lando: nothing too "you almost died but like in a chill way"

Lewis: you guys are the worst crisis team I’ve ever seen

Oscar: YOU’RE IN THIS TOO LEWIS

Lewis: i’m saying it with love.

Daniel: ok no roses…roses feel wrong

Carlos: no lilies either, too funeral

Lando: sunflowers??

Oscar: too happy Oscar: feels like "yay you survived!" party energy

Daniel: small soft bouquet?

Lewis: yeah Lewis: something like daisies Lewis: baby’s breath Lewis: stuff that feels gentle

Oscar: Lewis Hamilton out here secretly a florist

Lando: I KNEW IT

Lewis: I just have better taste than you idiots.

Carlos: confirmed.

Daniel: ok so like gentle happy survival flowers

Oscar: can we also send cookies?

Lando: yesssssssss

Lewis: i’m ordering them now Lewis: no glitter. Lewis: no weird colors. Lewis: keep it simple.

Daniel: who’s writing the card???

Lando: "Dear Belle: Sorry the world is trash. Love, some idiots who are rooting for you."

Oscar: perfect.

Carlos: send it.

***

Text Messages: Daniel Ricciardo & Max Verstappen

Daniel: Hey mate. Daniel: Just heard from Lewis what happened last night. Daniel: Wanted to check — is Belle okay?

Max: Yeah. Mild concussion. Some bruises. They kept her overnight for observation. She’s home now. Resting.

Daniel: Fuck, man. Daniel: I’m glad she’s alright. Daniel: That must’ve been scary as hell.

Max: It was.

Daniel: If you need anything. Daniel: Or if she needs anything. Daniel: You know — groceries, errands, new car — whatever. Daniel: We’re all around.

Max: Appreciate it. Thanks, mate.

Daniel: Seriously, anything. Daniel: Give her a hug from all of us, yeah? We’ll send flowers. Oscar insisted on Cookies too.

Max: I’ll tell her. She’ll appreciate it.

Daniel: Good. Tell her we’re all thinking about her. ***

Leclerc Family Group Chat

(Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles, Lorenzo and Pascale)

Arthur: Hey, can you grab croissants on your way over?

Charles: And coffee. Please.

Lorenzo: Maman needs flowers for her lunch today.

Pascale: Isabelle, mon ange, if you have time, could you pick up some things from the market?

Isabelle: Yeah, no. Can’t. I was in a car accident last night.

Arthur: ???

Charles: WHAT.

Lorenzo: What do you mean you were in a car accident???

Arthur: This better not be a joke.

Isabelle: I’m fine. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit me. I spent the night in the hospital for observation, but I’m okay.

Pascale: WHY AM I ONLY HEARING ABOUT THIS NOW?

Arthur: Yeah, kinda rude to just drop that on us.

Isabelle: EXCUSE ME???

Charles: Were you driving too fast?

Isabelle: NO.

Arthur: Were you on your phone?

Isabelle: IT WASN’T MY FAULT.

Lorenzo: But are you sure you weren’t distracted?

Isabelle: I swear to God.

Charles: Okay, okay. Do you need anything?

Isabelle: Just rest.

Arthur: Sooo… no croissants?

Isabelle: ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW.

Arthur: Just asking.

Pascale: Isabelle, you should have told me immediately.

Isabelle: It was the middle of the night!

Lorenzo: You still could have texted.

Charles: Next time, at least let us know sooner.

Isabelle: Next time??? Do you think I PLAN to get hit by a car???

Arthur: …so that’s a no on the croissants?

***

Isabelle was curled up on their couch, a blanket over her lap, her hair still a little messy from sleep and bruises peeking out from under the neckline of his hoodie. She was nursing a cup of tea when Max came in from the kitchen with her breakfast.

“Here,” he said softly, setting the tray in front of her. “Eat something.”

She smiled up at him, touched. “Thank you.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, but as he sat next to her, she noticed his eyes drift toward her phone, still open to the Leclerc family group chat.

Max squinted.

“What’s that?” he asked, his tone already shifting.

Isabelle blinked. “Oh. Just my brothers being… them.”

Max, already suspicious, plucked the phone gently from her lap before she could stop him.

Scrolled. Read.

And then he went absolutely still.

When she finally looked at him, his entire body was tight with anger. Not explosive. Not loud.

Cold. Sharp. Deadly.

“They’re asking about croissants?” Max said, voice low and dangerous. “After you spent the night in the hospital?”

Isabelle opened her mouth. Closed it. Shrugged helplessly.

Max stood up abruptly, pacing a few steps across the living room like he needed to physically shake off the fury vibrating through him.

“They’re angry at you?” Max said incredulously. “For not calling them? After you got fucking hit by a drunk driver?”

Isabelle flinched. Not because he was yelling — he wasn’t. Max’s voice had dropped into that awful, simmering tone he only used when he was one second from completely losing it.

“They’re blaming you?” he said, his voice rising just slightly, like he couldn't believe the words as they left his mouth. "Like you did something wrong?"

"It’s not that bad," Isabelle said automatically.

Max spun to face her. His expression was something brutal and raw. "Don't," he snapped. "Don't defend them."

Isabelle curled tighter into herself, clutching the tea like it was a shield.

"They don’t mean it like that," she said weakly.

Max crossed the room in three strides, crouching in front of her again, his hands gentle even when his voice wasn’t.

"Belle," he said, fierce and low. "You could have died. You could have been killed. And their first reaction was to demand coffee and flowers and fucking croissants? To scold you like a child?"

Isabelle looked down, her throat burning.

Max caught her chin lightly, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"You are not their errand girl," he said, every word knife-edged. "You are not an afterthought. You are not disposable."

Tears slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them.

Max’s face softened instantly.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe — but she didn't want to breathe anywhere else anyway.

Max let out a breath through his nose, still fuming. “Next time something happens, you tell me before you tell them. Actually—just always tell me first.”

“I did.”

That made him pause.

She looked up at him, soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You were the first and only person I called.”

The fight in Max deflated just a little. His jaw relaxed, and his shoulders slumped as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’ll never make you explain why your pain is valid.”

Isabelle pressed a kiss to his jaw, and despite the aches and bruises, she felt lighter somehow. Safer. Seen.

Max kissed the top of her head again, his voice low against her hair.

***

Text Messages: Sebastian Vettel & Max Verstappen

Sebastian: Hey, Max. I heard about what happened in Monaco. Isabelle okay?

Max: ... How do you—

Sebastian: Lewis.

Max: Of course.

Sebastian: He didn’t say much. Just that it was bad. And that you were with her. I figured I should check in.

Max: She’s alright. Concussion. Bruises. Scared the hell out of me, but she’s recovering. Resting at home now.

Sebastian: Good. I’m glad she’s safe. And I’m glad she has you.

Max: Thanks. Really.

Sebastian: Brave of you, keeping it from Charles. Man’s got a temper.

Max: So do I.

Sebastian: 😅 Fair enough. Sebastian: But seriously — that’s not an easy line to walk. Sebastian: Keeping something that important private.

Max: It’s not about him. It’s about her. She’s not ready for them to know. I’ll wait until she is. Whatever it takes.

Sebastian: Good. You’re doing the right thing. Sebastian: (And honestly... I don’t think Charles deserves to know until she’s ready to make him see her properly.)

Max: Agreed.

Sebastian: If you need anything — if she does — let me know. Tell her I’m thinking of her.

Max: I will. She’ll appreciate that. She always liked you, you know.

Sebastian: I like her, too. Always thought she was the strongest Leclerc. Even if no one noticed.

Max: I noticed.

Sebastian: I know. That’s why she’s with you.

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Max: Hey. Wanted you to hear it from me. Belle was in a car accident last night. Drunk Driver T-boned her.

Emilie: WHAT. Emilie: WHAT DO YOU MEAN. Emilie: IS SHE OKAY???

Max: She’s okay. Bruised, mild concussion. No serious injuries. She’s home now. Resting.

Emilie: Max. You can’t just DROP that on me. I nearly had a heart attack.

Max: Sorry. Didn’t want you finding out through someone else.

Emilie: Thank you for telling me. Is she... really okay? I mean, really?

Max: She’s shaken. But the Volvo did it’s job. It could be so much worse.

Emilie: Good. Emilie: Protect her, Max. Or I’ll break your kneecaps. (With love.)

Max: Would expect nothing less from you.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Emilie: ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW.

Isabelle: Hi??

Emilie: DON'T "hi" me. Emilie: I just found out you were in a CAR CRASH??? Emilie: A drunk driver hit you?? Emilie: AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME???

Isabelle: I was going to... Isabelle: I just didn’t want to worry you. I’m okay. Isabelle: Bruises, concussion. That’s it. I promise.

Emilie: Isabelle. Emilie: You’re literally my favorite human being on this planet. Emilie: You do not get to almost die and then not tell me.

Isabelle: 🥺

Isabelle: I’m sorry. Isabelle: I really am. Isabelle: It was just a lot last night. And Max was already there and—

Emilie: WAIT. Emilie: Max was there?? Emilie: You called him first???

Isabelle: ... Yeah.

Emilie: 😭😭😭😭 Emilie: Okay. Fine. Emilie: At least SOMEONE was looking after you. Emilie: (Still a little bit furious tho.)

Isabelle: I deserve that. I’m sorry.

Emilie: You are not allowed to apologize for getting hit by a drunk driver you absolute gremlin. Emilie: I’m just glad you’re okay. Emilie: (And also kinda glad Max is apparently ready to physically fight Monaco if needed.)

Isabelle: He’s very serious about it 😅

Emilie: Good. Emilie: You deserve people who take your safety personally. Emilie: And you deserve better than people who think you should apologize for surviving.

Isabelle: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 Love you.

Emilie: Love you more, Belle. Emilie: See you soon. Emilie: (Also, Max better share the couch or I will fight him.)

Isabelle: 😂 I’ll warn him.

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Victoria Verstappen

Max: Hey. Need to tell you something.

Victoria: Everything okay??

Max: Yeah. Now it is. Max: Belle was in a car accident. Drunk driver hit her.

Victoria: WHAT. Is she okay????

Max: Yeah. Concussion. Some bruises. She’s home now. Safe.

Victoria: Oh my god. Max. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

Max: Took a few years off my life. But yeah. Better now.

Victoria: I can’t even imagine. Seeing something like that happen to someone you love... Victoria: I remember when you crashed in Silverstone…For a moment it just…that feeling. That helplessness. Like the world could just... rip the person you love away from you at any second. I know what that feels like.

Max: Yeah. Exactly that. One second everything’s normal. Max: Next second you’re standing in a hospital room wondering how you’re supposed to keep breathing if they don’t.

Max: Feels like everything inside me cracked open at once. Max: I’m never letting anything happen to her again. Max: I don’t care what I have to do.

Victoria: You can’t protect her from everything, Maxie. I wish we could. But you’re doing the most important thing already. You’re there. You love her. You make her feel safe. That’s more than enough.

Max: Sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.

Victoria: It always feels like that when you really love someone. It’s the cost. But it’s worth it.

Victoria: She’s lucky to have you. And you’re lucky to have her.

Max: I know.

Victoria: Give her a hug from me. And Max?

Max: Yeah?

Victoria: Give yourself a little grace too. You’re allowed to be scared. You’re allowed to love her that much.

Max: Thanks, Vic.

Victoria: Always.

***

The apartment was dim and warm, the only light coming from the small lamp in the corner. One cat was sprawled across Max’s legs, purring softly; the other had wedged itself stubbornly against the arm of the couch.

It was quiet, comfortable — but Max barely noticed.

He was too busy keeping an eye on the hallway, listening for any sound of her.

Isabelle finally padded into the living room, wearing one of his hoodies and soft pajama shorts, her hair damp from a shower. She carried a mug of chamomile tea between her hands like it was a lifeline.

Max’s chest tightened when he saw the bruises — angry marks along her collarbone, a purple smear near her temple just so peeking out from underneath the bandage that covered her stitches — but she looked a little better.

Softer around the edges.

Steadier.

She settled in beside him without hesitation, leaning lightly into his side.

“Hey,” she said, voice gentle and tired but still teasing, still her. “What are we doing for Valentine’s Day tonight?”

Max blinked down at her like she had asked him if he wanted to fight a bull barehanded.

He set the remote down and turned fully toward her.

“Nothing,” he said firmly. “You’re resting.”

Belle blinked, surprised. “Nothing?”

“You got out of the hospital this morning, Schatje,” Max said, brushing his knuckles carefully along her jaw. “You’re bruised, concussed, exhausted. You’re not putting on a dress or pretending you have the energy for anything.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking restaurant. I was thinking… I don’t know. Candlelight? Dessert? A dumb rom-com?”

Max’s heart softened instantly.

“That’s different,” he murmured. “That I can work with.”

For a moment, there was a lull — the safe kind — until Belle sighed quietly and looked down at her tea.

“I’m sorry I ruined it,” she said.

Max froze.

“What?” he asked, sharper than he meant to.

“Valentine’s,” she said, voice even quieter now. “We were supposed to have a real night. You always say you don’t care about this stuff, but you still try. And instead, I ended up in a hospital bed, and you had to spend the night watching me sleep in an awful chair.”

Max blinked at her.

Once.

Twice.

Then, without a word, he took the mug gently from her hands and set it on the table.

“Belle,” he said, low and serious, “you are absolutely insane.”

She frowned. “That’s not—”

Max cupped her face in both hands, his touch achingly tender, like he thought she might break if he wasn’t careful.

He looked at her like she had just split the world open and made everything new again.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said, voice rough with the force of it. “You scared the hell out of me. That’s all. The only thing — the only thing — I cared about yesterday was that you were still breathing.”

Belle blinked, stunned.

Max leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against hers.

“You’re here,” he whispered. “You’re breathing. You’re safe. That’s all I want.”

Belle closed her eyes tightly, a tear slipping free before she could stop it.

“I just wanted it to be special,” she mumbled.

Max pulled back just enough to see her face, his thumbs brushing lightly along her jaw.

“It is special,” he said, fierce and quiet. “You’re here. You’re with me. There’s nothing more special than that.”

He exhaled hard, trying to keep himself steady, but the fear — the pictures his mind supplied, of her bleeding and dazed in that broken car — hadn’t really left him.

“You could have died, Belle,” he said, voice shaking despite himself. “And if you think I give a fuck about Valentine’s Day after that—”

He broke off, swallowing hard.

“You’re sitting here apologizing because I didn’t get to give you overpriced flowers and a chocolate box?” Max shook his head, breathing out a shaky laugh that was half disbelief, half heartbreak.

Belle let out a breathy laugh too, her voice cracking.

“Well, when you say it like that, I sound ridiculous.”

“You are ridiculous,” Max said fondly, his voice dropping to something unbearably soft as he kissed her forehead.

“You’re my Valentine every goddamn day, Belle. You don’t have to do anything except be here.”

And as he tucked her into his side, wrapping an arm around her, Max made himself a quiet, blistering promise:

Whatever it takes — he would make sure she always had a safe place to land.

***

Alexandra Saint Mleux had always loved Valentine’s Day.

Not for the grand gestures, not for the over-the-top declarations, but for the little things.

The small, specific ways Charles made her feel seen every year.

Last year, it had been a bracelet with a tiny charm that matched a doodle she'd made in a notebook once.

It was never about the price or the spectacle.

It was the way Charles remembered the quiet parts of her — the parts no one else seemed to notice.

Which was why she knew, before he even handed her the gift this year, that something was... off.

The box was beautiful — simple, elegant, wrapped in gold paper. But when she opened it, it was a generic necklace. Pretty, but impersonal.

Something anyone could have picked out of a catalog.

Charles was smiling at her expectantly, the way he always did, waiting for her reaction.

And she smiled back — because she loved him, because she didn't want to ruin it — but a small, quiet ache bloomed in her chest.

It wasn't about the necklace.

It was about the feeling that something had slipped, unnoticed, between them.

They went out for dinner after — a cozy little restaurant tucked away from the paparazzi, candles flickering between them — but even there, Charles seemed... distracted.

Tense in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

It wasn’t until dessert, when she asked casually about his family, that she got a piece of the puzzle.

"Isabelle was in a car accident," Charles said offhandedly, swirling the last of his espresso.

Alexandra's heart stuttered. "Oh my God — is she okay?"

He shrugged, too casual. "It was just a little fender bender. Nothing serious. She’s fine."

Alexandra frowned slightly. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Charles said, waving it off. "She said she was fine."

He didn’t elaborate. Didn’t offer any more.

And Alexandra — who had seen the way Isabelle seemed to fold herself smaller whenever the family swirled too loudly around her — felt that same ache twist sharper.

Something told her Belle wouldn’t have made a fuss even if she wasn’t fine.

Something told her that Charles hadn’t really looked.

She said nothing, just smiled and let Charles change the subject back to racing, back to schedules, back to anything but the sister who maybe, just maybe, needed him to see her.

Alexandra tucked the necklace back into its box when she got home that night.

It was beautiful.

It just wasn’t quite hers.

***

The apartment smelled like coffee and something sweet.

Max had gotten up early — not because he was particularly good at mornings, or baking — but because Belle deserved something warm and comforting.

He’d managed toast, burnt only slightly, and found the last few frozen chocolate croissants buried at the back of the freezer.

Small things.

Safe things.

Belle was curled up on the couch in one of his old hoodies, knees tucked beneath her, Lilly on her lap, while Jimmy was laying on her legs and Sassy sat next to her like this was all beneath her, but was slowly inching closer, jealous to at she wasn’t getting any attention.

She looked small.

Tired.

Healing.

Max was wiping his hands on a dish towel when a knock came at the door.

He frowned, crossing the apartment in a few quick strides.

When he opened it, a delivery man stood there — arms full.

Two enormous bouquets, one a soft explosion of yellow and white, the other a careful arrangement of pink and cream roses, and a box tied up with a silky ribbon.

Max blinked.

Took the flowers and box with a muttered thanks.

Kicked the door shut behind him.

Belle looked up immediately, eyebrows lifting when she saw what he was carrying.

“What’s all that?” she asked, sitting up straighter.

Max set everything carefully down on the coffee table, tugging the little notes free from between the stems.

He read the first card — his mouth curving into a small, real smile, the kind he barely remembered how to make before her.

“This one’s from my family,” he said, tossing the card onto the table for her to see. “Flowers from my mom. Chocolate from Victoria.”

Belle’s mouth fell open slightly. “They didn’t have to—”

Max shrugged. “They wanted to.”

He kissed the top of her head before reaching for the second card, tucked between the wild, chaotic second bouquet and the neatly wrapped box underneath.

He read it, and let out a soft huff of laughter.

“And,” he added, setting the card down, “these are from the idiots.”

Belle blinked. “The idiots?”

Max leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out lazily. “Lando, Oscar, Lewis, Carlos, Daniel. Group effort. They sent you flowers and a box of cookies.”

Belle stared at him, completely thrown.

“They said,” Max quoted dryly, “and I’m reading here, ‘Dear Belle: Sorry the world is trash. Love, some idiots who are rooting for you.’”

Belle let out a small, incredulous laugh — the first real one he’d heard from her since the hospital— and covered her face with her hands.

Max just watched her, something warm and achingly fond spreading through his chest.

When she lowered her hands, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes suspiciously bright.

“They’re ridiculous,” she whispered.

“They are,” Max agreed. “But they mean it.”

He shifted closer, resting his hand lightly against her thigh.

“Victoria sends her love, by the way,” he added. “Said next time you’re in the Netherlands, you’re not allowed to leave without a girls’ day.”

Belle laughed again — a softer, breathier sound this time — and toyed absently with the edge of her sleeve.

There was a pause.

A shift.

And then, almost too quietly to hear, she said:

“Your family’s starting to feel like mine too.”

Max stilled completely.

He turned, reaching for her hand instinctively, finding her fingers and curling his own around them.

Belle looked up at him, vulnerable in a way she almost never let herself be — open and a little raw, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say it out loud.

Max melted.

Utterly.

He cupped her face gently in both hands and kissed her — slow, deliberate, reverent — like he had all the time in the world just to love her properly.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was rough with emotion.

“They already think of you that way,” he whispered against her forehead. “You’re one of us, Belle. You always will be.”

She blinked fast, trying and failing to fight the tears burning her eyes.

Max just pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight.

Not too tight.

Just enough.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Victoria Verstappen

Isabelle: Hi Victoria, Thank you so much for the flowers and chocolates. It really meant a lot to me. You didn’t have to do all that.

Victoria: First of all: YES I DID. Second: you’re welcome. Third: you’re stuck with us now. No returns. No exchanges. No refunds. Family policy. Love you.

Isabelle: 😭 I love you too.

Victoria: Tell Max if he doesn’t keep spoiling you, I’ll show up and do it myself. (And make it VERY public and VERY embarrassing.)

Isabelle: 😂 I’ll warn him.

Victoria: Good girl. Rest up. Heal. And when you’re ready, come visit — Lio made you a "Get Well" card and it’s mostly just glitter but the intention was pure.

Isabelle: I can’t wait to see it. Thank you, Vic. Really. For everything.

Victoria: Always, Belle. Always.

***

Text Messages: Sebastian Vettel & Kimi Räikkönen

Sebastian: You’re not going to believe this. (Or maybe you will. You’re hard to surprise.)

Kimi: Busy. Make it fast.

Sebastian: Max Verstappen is dating Isabelle Leclerc.

Kimi: Huh.

Sebastian: That’s it? Huh??? I just dropped a nuclear paddock secret on you!

Kimi: Not my business. If they’re happy, who cares.

Sebastian: I mean. True. But still.

Kimi: Good for them. Hope she can handle him. Not many can.

Sebastian: I think she’s the only one who can.

Kimi: Makes sense. Quiet ones are dangerous. Good match.

Sebastian: Also apparently no one in her family knows yet. Including Charles.

Kimi: Charles will cry about it. Not my problem.

Sebastian: 😂

Kimi: Tell Max if he breaks her heart I’ll run him over with a snowmobile.

Sebastian: Will pass along the message.

Kimi: Good. Busy now. Kids want ice cream. Tell Max congratulations.

Sebastian: Will do. (Enjoy the ice cream.)

Kimi: Always.

***

Max hated this.

He wasn’t even trying to pretend otherwise.

He stood by the door, suitcase packed, keys and phone in one hand, looking like someone had asked him to do the impossible instead of board a plane for pre-season testing.

Belle watched him from the couch, a blanket wrapped around her, her bruises faded now but still faintly visible under the soft lamplight.

"You have to go," she said gently, reading his mind like she always did.

Max grimaced, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I don’t like leaving you."

"You’re not leaving me," she corrected immediately, voice calm, steady. "You’re going to work. You’re doing what you love."

Max ran a hand through his hair, visibly struggling.

"You just—" he started, then stopped. "You just got hurt, Belle. I should be here. I should be with you."

"You are with me," she said, rising slowly from the couch and padding over to him.

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"Every time you call, every time you text, every time you think about me — you’re here," she said softly. "I’m not alone."

Max closed his eyes, leaning into her touch like he physically couldn’t help it.

"And you’ll be home before you know it," she whispered, brushing her thumbs over his cheekbones. "Then you can hover and fuss and drive me crazy again."

A reluctant, broken laugh escaped him.

"I don’t want to leave you," he said again, more quietly now.

Belle smiled, tears prickling her own eyes — because even now, even with the whole world pulling him in a thousand directions, he was still here with her first.

"You’re not leaving me," she said again. "You’re just chasing your dreams. And I’ll be right here when you get back."

Max bent his head, resting his forehead against hers.

"You’re my dream too," he whispered.

Her breath hitched.

"And you’re mine," she whispered back.

They stayed there for a long moment — just breathing together — until finally, finally, Max exhaled.

He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, like he needed to memorize her, and she kissed him back just as fiercely.

When he finally pulled away, it was with visible effort.

"Promise me you’ll rest," he said, brushing his knuckles down her cheek.

"I promise," she said. "And you — promise me you’ll drive safe. Listen to GP. Don’t try to out-stubborn the car."

Max huffed a quiet laugh. "Bossy."

"Someone has to be," she teased, smiling.

He kissed her forehead one last time, squeezed her hand, and finally — reluctantly — turned to leave.

Belle watched him go, feeling the ache of missing him before he’d even stepped outside the door.

But it was okay.

Because he would always come home to her.

And she would always, always be waiting.

***

Text Messages: Lewis Hamilton & Max Verstappen

Lewis: Mate.

Lewis: Did you just drop off a bag of stuff at my motorhome?

Max: Yeah.

Max: Belle made something for Roscoe.

Lewis: I just opened it.

Lewis: A handwritten note. And homemade vegan dog treats???

Max: She insisted.

Max: Wanted to thank you properly.

Max: Even though she’s supposed to be resting.

Lewis: I don’t even know what to say. The note made me emotional and Roscoe is probably going to try and mug me for the biscuits.

Max: Good. He deserves them.

Lewis: Tell her thank you.

Lewis: Seriously.

Lewis: She didn’t have to do anything.

Lewis: I was just in the right place at the right time.

Max: You stayed.

Max: It matters to her.

Max: It matters to me too.

Lewis: You’ve got a good one there, Max.

Lewis: Also, if Roscoe explodes with happiness, I’m sending you the vet bill.

Max: He’ll be fine. Belle double-checked the recipe three times.

***

GP had known Max Verstappen for a long time.

Long enough to recognize when something wasn’t sitting right under the surface — even when Max didn’t say a word about it.

He noticed it that morning, before Max even climbed into the car. The slight tightness around his mouth. The way his hands flexed once, sharply, before putting on his gloves. The way his answers in the pre-session briefing were short, mechanical. Efficient, but colder than usual.

GP filed it away. Max would tell him when he was ready.

And he did — just after the second run of the day, in the shade behind the Red Bull garage, water bottle in one hand, telemetry printout in the other.

“She was in a crash,” Max said, his voice flat enough that if GP hadn’t been paying attention, he might have missed it.

GP frowned, stepping closer. “Who?”

Max didn’t look up. “Belle.”

The name hit harder than GP expected.

“What happened?” he asked, more sharply now.

Max’s jaw tightened. “Drunk driver ran a red. T-boned her car. Hit the passenger side, just behind the front wheel. Sent her spinning into a light post.”

Quiet. Clipped. Words that barely scratched the surface of the horror GP could hear pulsing beneath them.

GP stared. “Christ. Is she—?”

“She’s alright,” Max said. “Bruised. Concussion. Hospital kept her overnight.” He paused. “But it could’ve been a lot worse.”

GP’s stomach twisted sickly. He couldn’t — wouldn’t — let himself imagine Max getting that phone call in the middle of the night. Wouldn’t let himself imagine what it must’ve felt like to walk into a hospital room and see Belle curled up in a stark white bed.

And then Max said, in that same low, steady voice that somehow carried more weight than shouting ever could:

“The Volvo you helped me pick out for her? It saved her life.”

GP went still.

The memory flickered: Max months ago, texting him…asking for his opinion.

Just buy her a Volvo. Safe. Reliable. Built to last. Also one of the best crash-tested brands in the world. You did say you were thinking about kids, right?

And now — thank god — Belle was still breathing because of it.

GP swallowed thickly, feeling a knot loosen somewhere deep in his chest.

“Thank fuck,” he said hoarsely.

Max gave a short nod. No dramatics. No sentimentality.

But GP could feel the magnitude of it radiating off him like heat off the tarmac.

This — this — was the side of Max Verstappen few people ever saw. The side that loved without conditions. That protected without compromise.

“Thank you,” Max said quietly.

No dramatics. No fuss. Just that heavy, quiet sincerity Max reserved for the rarest moments.

GP reached out and clapped a hand to his shoulder — a solid, grounding gesture — knowing Max didn’t need anything else from him right now.

"I’d do it again tomorrow," GP said.

Max nodded again, and GP watched him turn back toward the data screens, pulling his headset on, ready to work like nothing had happened.

But GP knew better.

Max had always raced like he had something to prove. Now, this season, he was racing with something to protect.

And GP would make damn sure everything — the car, the strategy, the team — was ready for that fight.

Then there was no margin for error anymore.

Not even a sliver.

He pulled his headset back over his ears and keyed into the comms with a calmness he didn’t entirely feel.

“Let’s run another systems check before lunch,” he said smoothly. “And someone triple-check the safety settings while you’re at it.”

The comm crackled to life with quick affirmatives.

***

Text Messages: Gianpiero Lambiase & Eloisa Lambiase

GP: We’re getting you a new car.

Eloisa: ???

Eloisa: Good morning to you too?

Eloisa: What’s wrong with my car?

GP: Not safe enough.

Eloisa: You’re the one who picked it out, love.

GP: Doesn’t matter.

GP: We’re upgrading.

Eloisa: Did something happen?

GP: Yeah.

GP: Belle — Max’s Belle — she was in a crash last week.

GP: Drunk driver ran a light.

Eloisa: Oh my god.

Eloisa: Is she okay???

GP: Shaken. Concussed. But alive.

GP: Because she was driving the Volvo Max bought her.

GP: The one I told him to get.

Eloisa: Oh.

GP: Yeah. That’s why we’re getting you a better car.

Eloisa: Gianni…

GP: No arguments.

GP: Please.

Eloisa: …okay.

Eloisa: But only if I get to pick the color this time.

GP: Deal.

GP: Something with five stars on every crash test rating.

GP: I’m sending you options this afternoon.

Eloisa: (And coffee. You owe me coffee for giving me a heart attack.)

GP: Already on it.

GP: Triple order.

GP: Love you.

Eloisa: Love you too, you giant overprotective marshmallow

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Max Verstappen

Max: We need to get you a new car.

Isabelle: Max, I’m fine.

Isabelle: The Volvo did its job.

Max: Exactly. Which is why we’re getting another one.

Isabelle: You’re serious?

Max: Volvo customer for life now. I’m about to put their logo on my helmet at this point.

Isabelle: You’re ridiculous.

Max: Not taking chances, Schatje.

Max: Same model or you want to pick something else?

Isabelle: …I did love that car.

Max: Same brand, non-negotiable. Colour’s up to you. Same as before or something different?

Isabelle: Honestly? I liked the old one. That dark green felt like me.

Max: Then we’ll stick with it. Dark green it is.

Isabelle: You don’t have to do all this, Max.

Max: I do. I’m not letting you drive anything that isn’t built like a tank.

Isabelle: You’re going to spoil me until I forget how to function on my own.

Max: That’s the plan.

Isabelle: You’re impossible.

Max: You love me.

Isabelle: Very much.

Max: Fortunately, it’s mutual.

Isabelle: Fine. Dark green Volvo. But I’m picking the air freshener this time.

Max: Deal. As long as it’s not something that smells like cupcakes.

Isabelle: No promises. And it was strawberry.

Isabelle: Consider it payback for forcing me into an indestructible Swedish fortress.

Max: Best decision I ever made. Second only to falling in love with you.

Isabelle: You’re dangerous when you’re sweet.

Max: Only for you.

***

Alexandra wandered the halls, pretending to admire a modern art installation while covertly people-watching — one of her favorite pastimes when the pace of life let her slip out of the Ferrari bubble for a few hours.

She was standing near a collection of minimalist sculptures when she caught snippets of a conversation between two women nearby, both well-dressed, deep in quiet, intense discussion.

"I still can't believe it," one woman murmured, her voice low but urgent. "She could have been killed. Did you see the photos? That car was destroyed."

Her friend nodded, wide-eyed. "Near the tunnel, right? Total mess. And poor Isabelle — I mean, she's so sweet. She did that whole project for our office last year."

Alexandra’s heart stopped.

She took a tiny step closer, pretending to examine the sculpture in front of her.

"Isabelle Leclerc," the first woman said again, confirming what Alexandra already knew. "Such a shame. She's so talented. And to walk away from something like that — it’s a miracle, really. They said the drunk driver didn’t even hit the brakes."

Alexandra felt her stomach churn.

Destroyed. Miracle. No brakes.

That didn’t sound like a fender bender.

That didn’t sound like "nothing."

Another man chimed in, sounding grim. "I heard the paramedics said it was a miracle she didn’t have internal injuries. They were worried about a collapsed lung at first."

Alexandra blinked hard, the art blurring in front of her.

Collapsed lung.

Not a fender bender.

Not nothing serious.

She pressed her lips together, hands curling slightly at her sides.

The women moved on, voices fading into the low hum of the gallery, but Alexandra stayed frozen in place for a long moment.

When Charles had told her about the accident, he’d been so casual. So dismissive.

Alexandra swallowed hard against the knot forming in her throat.

Isabelle hadn't been fine.

Isabelle had survived something horrific.

And Charles — either through ignorance or unwillingness — had looked the other way.

Again.

Alexandra didn’t know what bothered her more: the fact that Charles hadn't seen it, or the gnawing fear that maybe he did — and just didn’t know what to do with the parts of his sister that didn’t fit into the neat, tidy picture of the world he needed to believe in.

She glanced down at her phone, thumb hovering over Isabelle name in her contacts.

For a moment, she debated it — reaching out, saying something, offering something.

But what could she offer that wouldn't sound hollow?

Her family saw her as nothing more than background noise and Alexandra loathed to admit that she was guilty of the same on more than a few occasions.

It was just…so easy not to think about Isabelle. Which sounded horrible, the longer she examined that thought.

Isabelle was so happy in the background, so sweet and kind in a way that never seemed to want any kind of attention for it.

So easy to overlook.

***

Text Messages: Alexandra Saint Mleux & Charlotte Di Pietro

Alexandra: Hey, random question. Did you know how bad Isabelle’s car accident actually was?

Charlotte: ?? I thought it was minor? That’s what Lorenzo said when I asked.

Alexandra: It wasn’t. I overheard people talking at the gallery tonight. Paramedics thought she might have had a collapsed lung. Car was totaled. Impact was bad — drunk driver didn’t even brake.

Charlotte: No one told me any of that. Lorenzo made it sound like a dented door and a headache.

Alexandra: Yeah. Charles too. He brushed it off like it was nothing.

Charlotte: …They’re acting like it’s an inconvenience.

Alexandra: Exactly. It’s been sitting wrong with me all night. Like there’s something broken there that no one’s talking about.

Charlotte: Maybe. But I do know they love her.

Alexandra: I don’t doubt that. But love isn’t the same as seeing someone. I’m not sure they know how to see her properly.

Alexandra: I am not sure we know how to see her properly. None of us thought to invite her to lunch…you know, when we ran into her.

Charlotte: You are right…They aren’t the only ones guilty of forgetting her…

Charlotte: Speaking of forgetting.

Charlotte: Guess who forgot about Valentine’s Day until the morning off.

Alexandra: Oh? (Spill.)

Charlotte: Valentine’s Day. Lorenzo didn’t plan anything. Literally nothing.

He said, "Well, it didn’t feel like a big deal this year."

Charlotte: Later he grumbled that "normally Belle helps" and "everything feels off without her."

Alexandra: Wait, what?

Charlotte: Yeah. Apparently Belle used to remind them, plan ideas, even organize half the stuff so they wouldn’t forget.

Alexandra: …Oh my god. Alexandra: That tracks. Alexandra: You know, her friend once joked that Isabelle was the one who bought all my birthday presents from Charles.

Charlotte: Wait, seriously??

Alexandra: Apparently. Alexandra: I didn’t take it seriously at the time — Alexandra: Thought it was just teasing. Alexandra: But now… Maybe it was true.

Charlotte: She shouldn’t have to carry everyone. Charlotte: It’s not fair.

Alexandra: No, it’s not. Maybe it’s a good thing they’re feeling the consequences now.

Charlotte: Let them sit in it. They need to learn.

Alexandra: Agreed.

Charlotte: (Also. Are you ready for Arthur's dramatic downfall?)

Alexandra: LOL. The girlfriend disaster?

Charlotte: The girlfriend disaster. At this point, I’m tempted to bet how long until he posts a sad song on Instagram.

Alexandra: 100 euros says it’s before Thursday. Bonus points if he posts cryptic black-and-white stories too. With quotes he definitely doesn’t understand.

Charlotte: You’re on.

Alexandra: God help us all.

***

The Bahrain paddock buzzed under the heavy sun — mechanics shouting, tires rolling, the faint scent of burning rubber hanging in the air.

Charles leaned against the barrier separating the hospitality areas, sipping from a bottle of water as he chatted with Pierre, both of them still in their race suits, unzipped halfway down against the heat.

Pierre had just casually asked, somewhere between a joke and genuine concern, "Hey, by the way — your sister’s alright, yeah? Heard she had some kind of accident?"

Charles waved it off immediately, flashing a small, tight smile. "Ah, yes. Isabelle is fine. Just a little fender bender."

Pierre nodded, a little relieved but still wary. "Good. Glad she’s okay. Monaco drivers, man."

Charles laughed lightly. "Exactly. Probably more dangerous in the city than on track."

But before he could say anything else, a voice cut through the air, calm and deliberate.

"It wasn’t a fender bender, Charles."

Charles blinked, turning instinctively toward the sound.

Lewis Hamilton stood a few feet away, gloves dangling loosely from his fingers, expression unreadable.

Charles frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

Lewis shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was there."

The words dropped like stones into Charles’ stomach.

"I saw the crash," Lewis continued, voice low and even. "Drunk driver ran a red light. Slammed into her side full speed. Spun her into a pole. The car was totaled."

Charles opened his mouth — but no words came out.

Lewis wasn’t finished. "Isabelle was trapped in the car. Shocky. Barely able to talk. I called the ambulance. Stayed with her until they got there."

Charles’ heart kicked hard against his ribs, cold and sickening.

He tried — for a second — to picture Isabelle in that moment.

Tried to imagine her small body pinned in a wrecked car, blood trickling down her forehead, gasping for breath.

It made something twist inside him — sharp and ugly and guilty.

"She’s lucky she survived," Lewis said quietly. "Don’t call it a fender bender."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Lewis gave him one last look — not angry, not cruel — just disappointed. And then he turned, walking away toward the Mercedes garage without another word.

Charles stood frozen in place.

Pierre cleared his throat awkwardly after a beat. "Uh," he said lightly, "maybe you should... check on her properly. Yeah?"

Charles didn’t answer.

He just stood there, staring after Lewis, feeling — for the first time in a long time — the uncomfortable, foreign sensation of having missed something important.

***

Group Chat: HELP ME

(Members: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz and Lewis Hamilton)

Lewis: Guys. GUYS.

Oscar: uh oh

Lando: what happened now

Lewis: Charles just called Isabelle’s crash a "fender bender." fender bender. LIKE. MINOR. INSIGNIFICANT.

Daniel: ...oh no.

Lewis: IT WAS BAD. Lewis: Bad enough that the car was crushed against a streetlamp. Lewis: Bad enough that she couldn’t even get the door open. Lewis: Bad enough that she was shivering and barely breathing and covered in cuts and glass.

Lando: Lewis is going full caps lock. This is bad.

Oscar: It’s worse than bad. He’s spiraling.

Lewis: I WATCHED HER BLEEDING IN A BROKEN CAR. Lewis: I HELD HER HAND UNTIL THE PARAMEDICS GOT THERE. Lewis: AND CHARLES IS OUT HERE LIKE "lol oopsie minor incident"????

Daniel: Breathe mate Breathe

Carlos: Yeah, deep breaths. We need you alive.

Lewis: HE CALLED IT A FENDER BENDER. I AM GOING TO LAUNCH HIM INTO THE SUN

Oscar: Not before Max does.

Lando: Max is gonna find out eventually and we will ALL need to evacuate Monaco

Lewis: I literally saw it. Lewis: I thought she was dead for a second. Lewis: And Charles didn’t even know how bad it was. Lewis: Didn’t even ask. Lewis: Didn’t even CARE.

Daniel: You okay mate?? Do you need snacks?? Or wine??

Carlos: Or a punching bag???

Oscar: Or a very large blunt object???

Lewis: I need Charles to grow a brain cell.

Carlos: Welcome to the nightmare brother.

Daniel: We have t-shirts.

Lando: and wine Lando: lots of wine

Oscar: and emergency stress snacks

Lewis: I’m bringing tequila next meeting. Lewis: We’re gonna need it.

***

Leclerc Siblings Group Chat

(Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles, and Lorenzo)

Charles: Isabelle. Why didn’t you tell me the accident was that serious??

Isabelle: Because you didn’t ask.

Arthur: Wait what? Serious?? I thought it was a little crash?

Charles: It wasn’t. Lewis told me today during testing. He was THERE. He said the car was totaled. You got spun into a post. You were trapped in the car, Isabelle.

Lorenzo: What do you mean, trapped?!

Isabelle: I didn’t want to worry anyone. I’m fine now.

Charles: You said you were fine. You made it sound like you got a scratch and drove home.

Lorenzo: That’s not the point.

Charles: You lied to us.

Isabelle: I didn’t lie. I said I had a concussion and bruises. And spent the night in the hospital. Which was all true. I said I was okay. Because I am.

Lorenzo: Isabelle, why didn’t you say anything?

Isabelle: Because I knew this would happen.

Isabelle: Exactly this.

Isabelle: You’d all get angry or guilt-trip me or turn it into something about you.

Charles: Of course we’re angry!

Arthur: You scared us, Isabelle.

Lorenzo: Do you think Maman could handle hearing you almost died?

Lorenzo: We are not going to tell her.

Lorenzo: I’m serious.

Lorenzo: It would crush her.

Lorenzo: Better she thinks it was nothing.

Isabelle: So let me get this straight.

Isabelle: You’re mad at me for not telling you…

Isabelle: And now you’re also deciding for me that Maman shouldn’t know?

Isabelle: Because you think she can’t handle it?

Lorenzo: Exactly.

Isabelle: Okay. Noted.

***

Raymond Vermeulen prided himself on knowing everything about Max Verstappen’s career — both on and off the track.

It wasn’t arrogance. It was necessity.

You didn’t manage Max Verstappen successfully by being two steps behind.

You stayed ahead. You anticipated. You knew.

Which was why, when Jos Verstappen of all people leaned over during a quiet moment at a post-testing dinner and casually said: "Max is serious about a girl,"

—Raymond almost dropped his fork.

He blinked, slowly, suspiciously.

Jos didn’t do casual. Jos didn’t mention Max’s girlfriends unless it was a complaint. Normally, the subject was treated like some embarrassing injury you didn’t talk about in polite company.

Raymond cleared his throat, playing it cool. "Oh? New?"

Jos grunted. "No. Been a while."

Raymond narrowed his eyes. "And you’re... okay with this?"

Jos shrugged. Shrugged.

Like Max Verstappen — his pride, his legacy, his entire life project — dating someone was just fine and normal.

Raymond was officially in uncharted waters.

"Who is she?" he asked carefully.

Jos reached for his beer, nonchalant. "Isabelle Leclerc."

Raymond froze mid-sip of his wine.

Isabelle. Leclerc.

As in Charles Leclerc’s little sister.

As in Ferrari’s golden boy’s little sister.

As in political nightmare fuel if the media ever got hold of it.

"You're telling me Max is dating Charles Leclerc’s sister," Raymond said slowly, like he was trying to defuse a bomb.

Jos grunted again. "Mmh."

"And you’re fine with this?" Raymond pressed.

Jos actually — God help him — almost smiled. "She's good for him."

Raymond sat back in his chair, stunned.

Not just because Max was apparently neck-deep in a secret, long-term relationship.

Not just because it was Isabelle bloody Leclerc.

But because Jos — notoriously impossible to please, allergic to softness — actually liked her.

Jos approved.

Raymond processed that for a long moment.

The earth hadn’t split open. The sky wasn’t falling.

Miracles did happen, apparently.

"Well," he said finally, recovering some professionalism. "That’s... good."

Jos nodded, unbothered. "She makes him happy."

Raymond exhaled slowly. If Jos was using words like happy, it was serious. Monumentally serious.

And suddenly, Raymond understood something deeper:

This wasn’t a passing thing.

This wasn’t a fling.

This was real.

Max had gone and fallen in love — quietly, stubbornly, like he did everything else — and somehow, without anyone noticing, built himself a life outside the machine of Formula One.

Raymond reached for his phone under the table.

Because if the media ever got a sniff of this, he was going to need a very detailed contingency plan.

And maybe a drink.

Or several.

***

The office was quiet.

Soft light filtered through gauzy curtains.

A pot of chamomile tea sat untouched on the side table.

Isabelle sat curled into the corner of the couch, sleeves of her sweater pulled over her hands, staring at the stitches in the rug instead of at Simone.

Simone waited.

She always waited.

Finally, Isabelle exhaled a shaky breath.

"It’s so stupid," she said quietly. "I shouldn’t be this upset. I didn’t even get badly hurt."

Simone didn’t flinch at the deflection.

She just tilted her head slightly.

"You’re allowed to be upset, Isabelle. Something frightening happened to you."

Isabelle bit her lip, fingers tightening in her sleeves.

"I didn’t even want to tell them," she said. "My family, I mean. I knew how it would go. And it did."

Simone’s voice stayed soft. "Tell me what happened."

Isabelle shrugged stiffly. "I mentioned it. Just… dropped it into the family group chat. Like ripping off a band-aid. Thought maybe they’d be a little worried, and then we’d move on… " she admitted softly.

Simone waited again.

Isabelle’s mouth twisted bitterly. "Arthur and Charles kept asking if I was distracted or speeding—like it was somehow my fault."

Simone’s brows furrowed slightly.

“And then a few days later, Charles found out that it wasn’t just a little fender bender. And suddenly they were angry with me. Because I didn’t tell them how bad it was. But I did. I told them that I was…I told them I had a concussion and bruises…And then Lorenzo," Isabelle continued, voice tightening, "he said—he said he wasn’t going to tell Maman. Because it would 'crush' her."

She laughed, a thin, broken sound.

"Apparently, I’m a bigger problem for them if I exist hurt than if I just… pretend everything’s fine."

Simone stayed silent, letting the words hang in the air between them.

Isabelle blinked hard, willing herself not to cry.

"It’s always been like that since Papa died," she said eventually, quieter now. "Maman either sticks her head into the sand—pretends bad things aren’t happening—or she panics. Makes everything about her fear."

Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, and she pulled her knees tighter to her chest.

"So I learned to make myself smaller. Easier. Less trouble." She smiled bitterly. "Invisible, sometimes. That’s the safest way to survive it."

Simone leaned forward slightly, her voice still low, but firm now.

"Isabelle, what happened to you wasn't your fault. Not the accident. Not your family's reaction."

Isabelle closed her eyes.

"It feels like it is," she whispered.

"It isn’t," Simone said. "You are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to be hurt. You are allowed to need help, without carrying their feelings on your back."

***

Group Chat: HELP ME

(Members: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz Jr. and Lewis Hamilton)

Lando: okay Lando: hear me out

Oscar: this is already a bad start

Lewis: absolutely not

Daniel: proceed Daniel: i love bad ideas

Lando: what if Lando: instead of everyone panicking about charles finding out Lando: we just... Lando: tell him softly???

Carlos: what the fuck does "softly" mean

Lando: like, we ease him into it Lando: drop hints Lando: plant the idea Lando: subtle Lando: caring

Oscar: you're insane.

Lewis: he'll kill us all.

Daniel: ok but i kinda wanna see where he's going with this

Carlos: no Carlos: lando’s plans never end well

Lando: NO LISTEN Lando: like maybe Lando: i casually say Lando: "hey charles did you know belle’s been hanging out with max lately" Lando: and when he starts freaking out Lando: we just Lando: soothe him Lando: with like Lando: positive reinforcement.

Oscar: you think he's a puppy???

Lewis: lando. Lewis: this is the worst plan anyone’s ever had.

Carlos: you’re going to get us murdered.

Daniel: actually i’m free next thursday if we wanna die then.

Oscar: i vote no. Oscar: hard no. Oscar: hardest no of my life.

Carlos: softly = we still die Carlos: but maybe slower and more painful

Lando: NO NO Lando: like Lando: we sit him down Lando: give him snacks Lando: maybe a hug Lando: and then just... you know... gently mention that max is in love with his sister

Oscar: lando. be serious.

Lando: I am serious

Lewis: this is the worst idea i've heard in a long time

Daniel: give him snacks??? what is he, a wild animal???

Oscar: you’re going to get us killed.

Lewis: softly telling charles is still telling charles. he’s gonna go full Leclerc rage no matter what.

Daniel: AND THEN MAX IS GOING TO KILL US

Lando: ok but hear me out again Lando: what if we tell him Lando: and then IMMEDIATELY leave the country

Oscar: i'm already packing my bags

Carlos: dibs on Spain

Lewis: i'm going to pretend i don't know any of you

Daniel: same

Daniel: i’ll be in australia by the time charles processes step one.

1K notes · View notes

leclercwriting · 10 months ago

Text

age gap | daniel ricciardo social media au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem reader

you are an influencer who starts dating older f1 driver daniel ricciardo

masterlist

y/n.user

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff1 and 567,930 others

caption: my life since the rumours

view all comments

yourbff1: the rumours are kinda funny tho

y/n.user: yeah.. "rumours"

user73: DOES THIS MEAN THAT THE RUMOURS ARE TRUE?

user62: what rumours?!

danielricciardo: xx

user83: daniel?

user2: wait... the rumours are that he and y/n are dating, right?

user74: yeah

daniel.jpg

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 123,938 others

caption: rumours confirmed

view all comments

maxverstappen1: this is how i get to know your girlfriend?

daniel.jpg: sorryy maximilian

landonorris: isn't she too young? you old man

daniel.jpg: she has an old soul

y/n.user: DANIEL

landonorris: hey y/n. I'm lando btw

y/n.user: hey lando

user73: omg they are actually so cute together

user46: lmao she's just using him

user9: weird

user525: she's still a child omg

y/n.user: oh I wish. But thanks for compliment that I look young

user3: she slayed

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, y/n.user and 567,939 others

caption: if you go out with daniel and y/n, be prepared for daniel carrying her around...

view all comments

danielricciardo: she's always tired.. not my fault

y/n.user: ME? u always want to carry me

danielricciardo: not true

y/n.user: I'm done with you

landonorris: first couple fight?

danielricciardo: yeah..

user66: I'm starting to like them together

y/n.user: good taste

user3: idk but it's still weird

user2: she's so young

y/n.user: no wayyy

yourbff1: they are so cute

y/n.user: <3

y/n.user

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff1 and 1,839,378 others

caption: I bought daniel new t-shirts so he can wear them to the paddock (haters will love these)

view all comments

landonorris: poor danny boy

danielricciardo: I actually love them

maxverstappen1: no way

y/n.user: @ kellypiquet Kelly buy some t-shirt for max too. Atleast he doesn't have to repeat outfits

user63: poor daniel.. she's manipulating him

danielricciardo: I literally picked those t-shirts

user73: daniel and y/n are the best couple. Argue with the wall

yourbff3: omg i love you for this babe

y/n.user: I ate

user77: u did!

y/n.user

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 578,838 others

caption: enjoyed my first gp, and now it's summer break

view all comments

user83: most hated but the best couple award goes to... y/n and daniel

y/n.user: thanks I guess

danielricciardo: our shoey was 🔥

y/n.user: hell yeah

landonorris: what about me and you daniel? :(

danielricciardo: sorry lando

maxverstappen1: why is daniel acting like a teenager again

y/n.user: cause I changed him

user38: you really did

user3: I love this new version of danny

y/n.user: me too

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 673,939 others

caption: enjoying summer break with the best people. y/n can drink!! I'm not serving alcohol to minors

view all comments

user83: daniel and his humour lol

y/n.user: baby u know that I can drink for a long time right?

danielricciardo: uhm of course

landonorris: he probably forgot your birthday

user63: yall stop hating and be happy for them

maxverstappen1: u kidnapped child?

danielricciardo: that's my nephew u idiot

maxverstappen1: oh sorry

y/n.user

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 345,388 others

caption: I want to have kids. Look at my man. He's so girl dad coded

view all comments

user73: uhm does she know that this is public account?

danielricciardo: Y/N?!

maxverstappen1: lol

maxverstappen1: @ danielricciardo u have a lot of work to do

danielricciardo: mate, kelly wants another kid too so shut up

user3: omg danny ric kid?

y/n.user: I hope

BONUS:

2K notes · View notes

sargeteen · 28 days ago

Text

𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 ! ᵐᵛ¹

i just wanna see you win ｡𖦹°‧

𝒎ax verstappen x 𝒅rag racer!male reader synopsis: max verstappen wasn't gay...at least that's what the internet believed. he believed he was being obvious that y/n was his, but then other people started to flirt with HIS boyfriend.

genre: smau, humor warnings: y!paul walker/hayden christensen as a fc, suggestive comments, plot was lost????

requested? nope author's note: requests are coming trust!! also, requests will be closed for the time being. i'm currently in the last stretch for high school, so i'll probably open them up during the summer!!

masterlist.

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, and others tagged: maxverstappen1

blondcars win after win

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userone oh you are so fine

usertwo THEY DONT MAKE MEN LIKE THIS ANYMOREEEE 😩😩😩😩😩

maxverstappen1 couldn't have picked a picture of my face? ⤷ blondcars babe they don't need a picture of your face to know it's you ⤷ userthree the way that they're so comfortable with each other that y/n started calling max babe im 😭😭 i wish i had friends like that

userfour you are so fine, i'm following you home ⤷ blondcars please dont do that actually

danielricciardo you got that bde ⤷ blondcars thank you big man 😉🔥 ⤷ maxverstappen1 leave him alone daniel he's mine ⤷ danielricciardo didn't know we gatekeep friends 💔💔

userfive #smash. hard.

usersix "till the-" WRONG WE ARE NOT STOPPING ⤷ blondcars take me out to dinner first, will ya?

userseven god just one chance

usereight you and max are so cute togehter omfg ⤷ usernine theyre not dating 😹😹 ⤷ usereight oh theyre not? oh.. ⤷ usernine LMFAOO yeah theyre not dating, theyre both straight

charles_leclerc just one chance, y/n 😞😞 ⤷ maxverstappen1 no. ⤷ userten lestappen mention?? ⤷ usereleven protective over our monagasque are we? ⤷ blondcars i thought you would never ask, charlie 🙇 ⤷ maxverstappen1 ... ? ⤷ charles_leclerc my door is open ☺️ ⤷ lando can i come too 😏😏? ⤷ blondcars obviously, but max you stay home ⤷ maxverstappen1 ?????

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and others tagged: maxverstappen1

blondcars new car who dis?

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usertwelve why is max always here ⤷ blondcars cause i want him to be

userthirteen please tell me it's named banana ⤷ blondcars no it's called twig ⤷ userthirteen ...like the monaco bar? ⤷ blondcars max named it.

maxverstappen1 twig looks good ⤷ blondcars i can't believe i let you name my car ofc you would name it after a bar in monaco ⤷ charles_leclerc twiga is actually a restaurant not a bar ⤷ blondcars ☝️🤓 nerd alert ⤷ charles_leclerc i know your home address. ⤷ blondcars scuderiaferrari ??????? ⤷ scuderiaferrari who's charles leclerc?

lando UGLY ASS CAR MINES BETTER ⤷ blondcars who? ⤷ lando my car??? ⤷ blondcars CARES!!! ⤷ lando 👴🏻👴🏻

userfourteen you look sexy asf man

userfifteen suddenly my name is twig 🚕

logansargeant this is so fast and furious core ⤷ blondcars i am actually brian spilner btw ⤷ logansargeant you would ⤷ blondcars tf does that mean ⤷ logansargeant ????? I WAS AGREEING WITH YOU HOE????

usersixteen you're the hottest formula 1 driver and you're not even a formula 1 driver ⤷ blondcars i'm associated with them cause i used to be a f2 driver but now i do something cooler so thank you ⤷ userseventeen wait how did i not know you drove in f2????????

usereighteen SMASHHHH SMASHHHH

usernineteen are you single perchance

maxverstappen1 none of these comments would be able to treat you right ⤷ blondcars and you would? ⤷ maxverstappen1 maybe. ⤷ usertwenty HELLO?????????/

usertwentyone i would until i pass out

liked by danielricciardo, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, and others

blondcars omfg im so goofy you can't take me anywhere

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usertwentytwo yet i still would

usertwentythree yall are too freaky in these comments...digital footprint and all that...

oscarpiastri the goofiest ⤷ blondcars you know it goat

usertwentyfour omg!! he is so goofy!! so crazy!!

maxverstappen1 contain your goofiness. ⤷ blondcars let me be myself, max ⤷ maxverstappen1 you can be yourself, just contain your goofiness around me, you're too goofy. ⤷ blondcars you da goat max, but imma keep being goofy

charles_leclerc neva let a man dull your sparkle 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️ ⤷ blondcars you know what, hell yeah! thank you charles ⤷ charles_leclerc happy to be of service, king 💁‍♀️

usertwentyfive when you pulling up to a formula 1 race, king? ⤷ blondcars when i want to ⤷ usertwentyfive yeah...you know what yeah

usertwentysix GOD I LOVE YOU

usertwentyseven even when he's being goofy he's hot

usertwentyeight please reject me so i can move on

lando you got a bunch of whores in your comments, mate ⤷ blondcars thats one thing we got in common ⤷ lando don't call my fans whores ⤷ blondcars you just called mine whores??????? ⤷ lando mate most of these comments are bots ⤷ blondcars yet they're commenting on my account, therefore fans

usertwentynine pùś$ÿ in bïò 😍😍😍😍 ⤷ blondcars ok ⤷ maxverstappen1 ???? ⤷ blondcars max look away im taking care of business

userthirty HASHTAG HARD SMASH

danielricciardo cant take you anywhere but you can take me somewhere ⤷ blondcars on god? ⤷ danielricciardo on god

liked by lando, blondcars, danielricciardo, and others tagged: blondcars

maxverstappen1 off limits.

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userthirtyone WHAT THE FUCK

userthirtytwo HUHHHHHH???????????

danielricciardo im sorry what ⤷ maxverstappen1 who has bde now ⤷ danielricciardo ?????/

blondcars oh max emilian verstappen... ⤷ maxverstappen1 hi y/n :) ⤷ blondcars you jealous little shit

userthirtythree HELLO????? WHATS GOING ON WHAT IS THIS REAL

userthirtytwo GUYS WHATS GOING ON ARE THEY GAY ⤷ maxverstappen1 blondcars ? ⤷ blondcars oh yeah we're super gay

lando ykw yeah i knew that ⤷ maxverstappen1 because i told you ⤷ lando yet i still knew

userthirtythree im crying what i knew they were together ⤷ userthirtyfour do you want a medal or something

oscarpiastri my eyes still need bleach btw ⤷ blondcars your fault for barging into max's drivers room ⤷ oscarpiastri LOCK THE DOOR MAYBE??? ⤷ maxverstappen1 nah everyone at red bull knew not to walk in ⤷ oscarpiastri YALL ARE GROSS ASF

logansargeant papa y papa ⤷ maxverstappen1 blondcars since when did we have a kid ⤷ blondcars since always. logan is my child. ⤷ maxverstappen1 ok...logan can you take jimmy and sassy for the night? y/n and i have a date night and i don't want them to be by themselves. ⤷ logansargeant SIR, YES SIR!

userthirtyfive holy moly...hottest couple ever

userthirtysix always knew y/n swung for the same team ⤷ blondcars wtf...💔 but like yah 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️💁‍♀️💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

liked by danielricciardo, lando, charles_leclerc, and others tagged: maxverstappen1

blondcars blah blah blah...proper name, place name, backstory stuff

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maxverstappen1 i love you, y/n ⤷ blondcars love you more geek

userthirtyseven this isn't your max fan account y/n ⤷ blondcars OH FUCK

userthirtyeight oh fuck man...yeah smash

lando jesus max hard launches you and suddenly you're all that's on my feed please get a job y/n ⤷ blondcars i'll get a job when you win the drivers championship ⤷ charles_leclerc so, never? ⤷ lando you're one to talk, charles ⤷ blondcars hey leave my charles alone. ⤷ maxverstappen1 your charles?

userthirtynine ok so theyre both sluts ⤷ blondcars um well um well, yes!

userfourty ok so theyre boyfriends thats awesome i love you guys so much

userfourtyone still can't believe max verstappen is gay ⤷ blondcars i know right?

danielricciardo do you guys need a third? ⤷ blondcars maxverstappen1 ??? ⤷ maxverstappen1 charles asked first, then you get second ⤷ jackdoohan turns out max and y/n are the paddock sluts ⤷ blondcars TF YOU DOIN HERE????????

oscarpiastri yall cute or whatever ⤷ blondcars thank you or whatever

logansargeant papa y papa ⤷ blondcars is that all you're going to comment ⤷ logansargeant well, yes!

userfourtytwo need y/n in the red bull garage next race ⤷ blondcars redbullracing 🙇🙇????????? ⤷ redbullracing 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️🔥🔥🔥🔥!!!!!!!!!!!!

userfourtythree formula 1 should do what formula e did and have outside people drive their cars ⤷ blondcars actually just let me drive my cars on the track. i feel like i'd wreck the f1 car and i don't want red bull or me to pay for that...

userfourtyfour yall sluts

a/n: this was fun to write

tags: @milessunflowers @lokisen @kevinlolwife @op-81-lvr-reblogs @kazanskied @481rosier @raizelchrysanderoctavius @mountainshuman

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gr4cier4cie · 2 months ago

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♡ after midnight (can't be a good girl) ♡

or: the drivers may be rough, but they'll always be sure to smooth you over afterwards. featuring: carlos sainz, max verstappen, daniel ricciardo, lando norris ♡

warnings: explicit sexual content ahead!! thank you to @mikeyspinkcup for this ask, sorry i derailed from it a lil lol was feeling freaky when i wrote this, XOXO always from gracie!!!

♡

carlos sainz ♡

oh i just know this man is trying to get you pregnant every single time you fuck. it could be an extravagant hotel room overlooking monte carlo or a gala bathroom with all the lights off and he's still clawing at your clothes, sinking his teeth into the junction between your neck and shoulder, molding you into the position that best suits him. he's not mean about it, no. he's sweet. saccharine, undercut with the slightest tint of restrained anger. he's vexed beyond words that he wants you like this. he's vexed that he can't keep himself in his pants for more than thirty seconds every time he finds himself searching for a whiff of your perfume. "mi zorrita," he'll whisper when he sinks into you, your hair (so pretty, so pure, so damn ruinous) wrapped around his tanned fingers. around his fist. "my perfect girl. so good for me." and when you unmistakably exhale a breathy, sniveling whine, scrambling for his bicep as his cock kisses the spongy surface of your cervix, he'll curl two fingers into your mouth to muffle the strangled sounds of your pleasure, lips pressed to your ear, words punctuated by every hard snap of his hips. "¿esto duele? bien. debería."

that doesn't mean he won't take care of you. in fact, it's the opposite. when you come down from the high, he's peppering kisses to your sweaty hairline, smoothing his knuckles across the blooming marks of purple littering your skin. fixing your clothes and cleaning the sticky mess between your thighs if you're out, zipping up your dress with the kind of reverence that has your stomach spasming violently. he'll run you a shower if you're at home, will stand underneath the stream of scalding warmth alongside you and stare at the rivulets of water trailing across your skin, will follow their path with his tongue if you'll let him. he's attuned to what you want, what you need. sometimes he'll whisper into your neck as he coats his hands in soap and traces the soft lines of your body with a touch so gentle you swear it's not even there. "i love you," he'll say. "te amo, mi princesita."

♡

max verstappen ♡

did someone say light daddy kink? because yeah. sorry, but yeah. max wants you to want him. need him. wants you to despair for him the same way he yearns for you, for your touch and your smile and the taste of your skin lingering on his tongue like a memory imprinted into the ivory of his bones. and he's a firm believer of hard work; if you want something, schatje, you're going to have to work for it. he wants to teach you, and, moreover, he wants you to learn. adapt to him. and when i say it's hard to break him, i mean it. he'll leave you wanting for weeks while he's away with strict orders to keep your hands off what is his—your pleasure is his, so why would he let you come without him? that's just bad manners. if you're good (which you usually are), he'll come home and fuck you to heaven and back. he'd drag you down to hell if you asked nicely, too. and no doubt he's snarling words you can barely understand into the curve of your shoulder: "pretty girl. did i leave you too long?" and when you whimper, nod shakily in response, he'll go mean, bark with bite. "maybe it'll be longer next time, hmm? you didn't learn, did you, schatje? can't ever listen to me, can you?"

but he won't leave you forever, no. max stakes claims the same way he plants trophies on your nightstand. once he has you, he'll do everything in his power to keep you. he'll clean you up (once he's done licking up the mess he can reach), run you a bath, massage the curve of your spine and grin at the way you melt into his touch entirely. he'd braid your hair neatly, pull the up blankets to your chin, kiss your temple with longing you couldn't believe you owned. because you might have been his, but he was equally, if not more, of yours.

♡

daniel ricciardo ♡

i have 110% certainty that this man asked you to sit on his face ten seconds into knowing you. it's simply an aftereffect of his effortless charm, the salacious way he runs his tongue along his canines, inviting thrill. danger. you. and, furthermore, i have 130% certainty that he asked if he could film it. what can he say? he's just getting older. "memory issues," he says with the sort of cheeky, one-sided grin that has a flash of molten heat spreading across your navel. "gotta keep it all up in here somehow," he continues as the blinking red flash of his decades-old camera catches the way his hands search hungrily for skin, more animal than man. he likes you on top, spine arched under the leading touch of his palm pressed to the small of your back, likes the way you sob when he's so far up your cunt you feel him in your ribs. and he likes it when you reciprocate. likes how you're desperate to get on your knees, to brace your shaky hand around his tattooed thigh. he knows you like them, his tattoos. he doesn't spare seconds using that to his advantage. you're easy to rile, easy to calm. wild. his type.

he won't turn off the camera, after. he'll leave it running as he carries you off the frame, cradled in arms he knows are meant to hold you. he'll clean you up (or, you'll let him make a mess of you yet again) in the shower, the shit-eating grin plastered to his face mirrored on your own. you'll kiss the column of his throat as he washes his hair, and he'll breathe your name into the back of your neck. he's gentle with you, steering you with a hand around your waist back to bed, kissing the tip of your nose or the curve of your chin as you drift off. only then will he reach across the bedside table and turn the camera off, tucking it into his bag for safekeeping. it goes everywhere with him, after all. he'd hate to lose it.

♡

lando norris ♡

speaking of cameras, lando isn't above stealing a few flicks for himself, either. he's a fan of fine art, and you're the perfect muse. he doesn't bother being inconspicuous, however; every person within a five-foot radius of you should know about the fact that his black leather wallet—one he continues to 'misplace'—contains a rather risque polaroid of you laying on your back, hands cupping bare tits splattered with his cum. and to make matters worse, he adores mirrors. specifically, fucking you in front of them. he made you watch, of course. made you watch his cock slide in and out of your soaked folds, an arm wrapped tight around your waist while the other slid up to the back of your neck, breaking the haze of your blurry-eyed pleasure. "look at us," he'd murmur, choking on a laugh as your cunt tightened. "we look good, yeah?" he'd tap the side of your face slightly when the only answer you find yourself capable of exhibiting is a withheld gasp of his name, clicking his tongue. "good girls answer me when i talk to 'em, baby."

he's never domineering. doesn't push you anywhere you don't already find yourself going. it is not an afterthought, to take care of you. he doesn’t let you go, not even when your body goes slack against his, not even when your breaths grow heavier against the line of his collarbones. not even when you hum, too spent to say anything. he just smiles—that boyish, sickeningly lovesick grin that always makes your heart ache, fingers gliding up and down your spine, soothing, grounding. and even as sleep starts to pull you under, he stays right there—holding you like you’re his most precious win. because damn him, loving you feels better than any podium ever could.

♡

note: this is not proofread at all and THIS WAS NOT WHAT THE ORIGINAL ASK WAS AT ALL IM SO SORRY I RAN WITH IT!! + there's a part two in the making obviously w more of the grid so stay tuned!!!!!! LOOOVE FROM GRACIE!!! ♡

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pitlanepeach · 1 month ago

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Radio Silence | Chapter Eighteen

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, silverstone 2021, racing injuries, detailed description of a panic attack, angsty as heck

Notes — Uh....... welcome to the Silverstone chapter (im sorry)

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! — Peach x

2021 (Silverstone)

In the days leading up to Silverstone, Lando filmed a video for Quadrant. Amelia sat just out of shot, watching the gameplay unfold with a grin that said, this is ridiculous, and I’m having the best time watching you all make fools of yourselves. When Lando stacked it and landed awkwardly on his arm, she was there in an instant, fussing over him.

A small portion of the clip made it into the final edit. Her on her knees, laughing, while Lando pouted dramatically, waving his arm around like it was much a more dramatic injury than just a scratch. It was lighthearted, sweet.

Everyone went crazy for it.

—

WhatsApp — 2021 F1 Groupchat

Lando N. Quick question. does anyone have any spare gloves?

Valtteri B. Like... racing gloves?

Lando N. Nah, just regular gloves. Leather, ideally.

George R. I’ve got some driving gloves in my car.

Pierre G. Of course you do.

George R. What’s that supposed to mean?

Pierre G. Nothing, nothing.

Lando N. Can you bring them to me? Amelia’s a bit icky about touch today, thought gloves might help. We’re heading to the track now and I couldn’t find any at my parents' place.

George R. Yeah, I’ll give them to Will.

Lando N. 👍

—

It wasn’t a stim. It wasn’t a meltdown.

It was just… discomfort.

She sighed in relief as Lando slid the brown leather gloves onto her hands. She swallowed, wiggling her fingers and letting the tension bleed from her shoulders.

The leather was soft and probably expensive, considering the gloves were George’s.

Lando squeezed her hands. “Better?”

She nodded, smiling. “They match my boots.” She held her gloved hands next to her knees, where her brown riding-style boots reached.

He snorted, laughing softly. “I don’t think George planned that, but I’m glad you feel fashionable, baby.”

Amelia glanced over her shoulder. Daniel wandered over, wiggling his eyebrows. “Excited for your home races, mate?” The question was aimed at Lando.

Amelia watched Lando, noticing how his face shifted; something complicated, something soft, but also guarded.

“Yeah. Just want to do well,” he shrugged, his smile a little too tight.

She frowned, instinctively leaning in. “You will.”

His smile flickered, uncertain. “I hope so.”

—

Max didn’t ask about the gloves. He just wrapped his arm around her shoulder and dragged her into his driver’s room, ignoring her confused protests.

He slammed the door, sat on the cabin bed, and stared at her.

She hovered, uncertain, glancing at the door before looking back at him. “Um…”

“I want to tell her the truth,” he said, eventually.

She stared at him for a beat, trying to decode his words, and then, slowly, her eyes widened. “You— I thought you told her months ago! Are you serious?” She choked out.

Max winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know. I know I should’ve done it sooner, okay? But I— I didn’t want to spoil it…”

Her anger flared, a sick heat bubbling in her stomach. “I told you to tell her the truth. That I’d hate to be lied to like that. And you carried on?” She was trembling. “So…. What. She still has no idea? About you, about all of this?”

He lowered his gaze, shame written across his face.

Amelia took a deep breath, stepping back. “I can’t even look at you. How could you—” She choked, nauseous, thinking of the girl who had no idea she was about to be dragged into this mess. “Has she told you she loves you?”

He was silent.

She let out a pained sound, high-pitched and sharp. “I don’t want to talk to you right now. Just… pass your thoughts on the car after practice to GP, yeah?”

Then she turned and walked out, her body coiled tight, her mind a storm.

—

She stormed through the garage, ignoring the stares from the engineers, and found Lando, her dad, and Daniel standing together.

Her dad spotted her first, eyes going wide. “Hey, honey. Everything okay?”

She shook her head. “I need to hit something.”

All three pairs of eyes turned to her.

Her dad sighed, glancing around. This wasn’t new. It had mostly happened during puberty. She’d always been hard to anger, but when it did happen, she needed an outlet.

“We’ve got some old tire blankets we can pile up. Should be soft enough.”

She nodded, her gaze distant.

He instructed a mechanic to start gathering the blankets in the back of the garage, away from the cameras and spectators.

Lando cupped her face, bending to meet her eyes. “You okay? What happened?”

“Max is an asshole,” she spat.

He blinked, shocked, before stepping back and nodding. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll go help with the tire blankets.” He hurried off.

She looked at Daniel.

He shrugged, making a face. “Max is an asshole sometimes, isn’t he?”

She nodded, jaw tight.

Then, out of sight of everyone, she took her frustration out on the tire blankets.

—

Max won the sprint race, setting his brakes on fire on the grid in order to boost the temperature in his front tires and give him a better start. It was risky, but it paid off, and he won. That took precedence over the extra work he’d given the garage crew overnight.

Another haul of points in their fight against Lewis.

Amelia didn’t have it in her to celebrate. She forced a smile for GP, nodded at Christian, but stepped away from the pit wall and headed straight to the back of Max’s garage, where Jos was sitting.

“Did you know about her? His girlfriend?” Jos asked. “I assume you did.”

Amelia stared at a spot of engine oil on the wall. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, to push for more, but she stood up and walked away before he could.

Lando finished P5. He fought with her childhood hero on track and came out ahead. For that, he deserved her attention.

—

She found Mark Webber just before the F2 feature race, holding a folded white envelope. She passed it to him as discreetly as possible, careful of the cameras and prying eyes around them.

He took it, glanced at it, and raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. “Let him open it when—if—things go wrong. It’s a good offer. The best he’ll get.” She’d made sure of that. She wasn’t about to let him slip through the cracks if Otmar did what she suspected he might do.

Mark studied her for a moment. “You made this happen?”

She nodded.

“Come on, kid,” he said, after a beat, gesturing ahead. “I’m sure Oscar would love a chat before he has to get in the car.”

She blinked, then grinned. “Do you think he’ll mind if I look at his steering set-up? I’m so curious—”

—

Lando drove them from the track to the hotel. She liked his car. All sleek, black lines and a polished interior that looked like something out of a magazine.

“Is this your dream car?” she asked, curiosity in her voice.

It was nearly ten, the sky darkening, and Lando had one hand on the steering wheel and the other casually draped over her inner thigh. She’d swapped out her team kit after the sprint for his favourite skirt, keeping it casual but elegant for the evening’s media events. Daniel had made him do a shoeey on the main stage.

“No.” He shook his head, glancing at her with a playful look in his eyes. “Don’t tease me.”

“Why?” She raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious.

“I’ve always wanted a Jolly.”

She blinked, momentarily stunned. “A— A Fiat Jolly?”

He nodded, his grin widening.

She couldn’t help but smirk. “A Jolly? That’s your dream car?”

Lando shot her a mock glare from the corner of his eye. “Baby…”

“Sorry, sorry!” she laughed, pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles. “I just— I wasn’t expecting that.”

He shook his head, exasperated but still smiling, his eyes warm with amusement. “I’ll get one, baby, and I’ll force you to let me drive it everywhere.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll be able to match all of my outfits to it,” she teased, her eyes twinkling.

Lando rolled his eyes.

—

Max and Pietra were waiting for them in the hotel lobby the next morning. Amelia squeezed Lando’s hand as they approached, giving him a fond glance before skipping over to Pietra, who greeted her with a bright smile and a glance of appreciation.

“That dress is gorgeous!” Pietra remarked, her eyes lighting up.

Amelia smiled, twirling a little. “Thanks. It’s my favourite. Oscar De La Renta. I can wear it on the pit wall as long as I throw on a team jacket.” As they walked through the lobby, Amelia leaned in, lowering her voice just enough so the guys wouldn’t overhear. “He won’t say it, but Lando thinks it’s a lucky dress. Pushed me into wearing it today.”

Pietra smiled knowingly.

“Baby!” Lando’s voice called from behind them.

Amelia turned her head, meeting his gaze. “Yeah?”

“You got your iPad?” he asked, him and Max now caught up to them.

Amelia patted her bag, feeling the familiar weight. “Got it.”

“Good. Keep a close eye on it today, yeah? Group chat’s a bit tense at the moment.”

She frowned. “What’s my iPad got to do with your group chat?”

He shrugged. She narrowed her eyes at him. He kissed her.

—

Everyone could feel the tension between her and Max.

She sat in the strategy meeting, arms crossed, her focus locked on the data sheets in front of her. The only time she spoke was to correct a mistake or suggest a differential, her tone cool and efficient. Max, however, couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, the weight of whatever was unspoken between them hanging heavy in the air.

When the meeting ended, she walked with GP to the garage, discussing overcorrection and heat cycles.

She managed to avoid Max entirely.

But just before the cars were due to leave the garages to line up on the grid, Jos found her. He was calm, but there was something demanding in his expression. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you,” he said quietly, eyes hard. “But I need you to put it aside and focus. This is an important race. He needs to win.”

Her response was a sharp nod, her jaw set. Without a word, she walked over to Max’s car. She leaned into the cockpit, eyes meeting his through the visor. The surprise in his eyes at the sight of her was fleeting; she knew he hadn’t expected it. She didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“If you don’t tell her by next weekend,” she said, voice low but firm, “I’ll find her and tell her myself.” Then, before he could react, she kissed the cheek of his helmet. Her voice softened, almost a whisper. “Win it, broer.”

Straightening up, she glanced at the mechanics; her unspoken signal to let him go. She turned back to Jos, who watched her with quiet approval. He gave a small nod, and she walked away.

—

She rarely walked the grid while the cars were setting up, but something about this year pulled her there. She found Lando under his umbrella, shielded from the sun, sipping from his bottle.

His eyes lit up when he saw her. She kissed his cheek, adjusting his fireproofs. “Be safe, do well. Love you.”

He pulled her in for one last kiss before she moved on. She glanced at the cars, each a blur of metal and energy; smiled at the mechanics, and shared a quick squeeze with Fernando. Finally, she caught Max’s eye. He stared at her for a long moment, before offering a small smile.

“Ah, Amelia Brown!”

She spun around, coming face-to-face with Martin Brundle.

Well aware of the camera, she forced a smile through the nerves. “Hi! How are you?” she asked, deliberately avoiding the lens.

“Good, good! So, we saw you give Lando a good luck kiss. Think McLaren’s got a good shot at scoring double points again today?”

“I hope everyone does well today,” she replied, only a slight tremble in her voice, “but of course, I hope Max comes out on top.”

He laughed, somewhat distractedly, giving her a quick nod before leading the cameraman away.

She glanced back at Lando. He was watching her with a proud, warm smile.

Her cheeks flushed, and she turned, head down, walking off the grid toward the pit wall.

—

GP settled beside her a few minutes later, handing her a comms clip. She gave it a cursive glance before she slid it into her ear and tugged her defenders on over the top.

“Makes it easier, huh?” he said through the comms, voice quiet and crackly, no need to shout through the defenders like usual.

She smiled. “You’re smart.”

“Coming from you?” He let out a long breath. “That’s the highest of compliments.”

She giggled softly, turning her focus to the screens in front of them.

Her stomach was already in knots, but that was nothing new; it always was during the formation lap. The calm before the storm. Her gaze bounced between Lando and Max, just as it always did, and not for the first time, she wished she had two sets of eyes.

They lined up on the grid. She chewed on her bottom lip, head tilted as she kept an eye on the tyre temps on Max’s car.

He hadn’t set them alight this time. Improvement.

Five lights. Four, three, two.

Lights out.

Max led from Lewis through the first corner. Her fingers fisted into the hem of her dress.

And then—

And then.

It happened in the blink of an eye.

Max ahead. Lewis closing. A slipstream through Copse.

Contact.

Suddenly Amelia was on her feet, hand clamped over her mouth.

She sucked in a shaky breath, barely hearing the roar of shouting from the garage, the pit wall, the radios. Yelling. Chaos. Outrage.

GP spoke into his earpiece — calm, measured. “Max? Max, come on. Talk to me.”

Her stomach dropped. He kept repeating his name, firm but steady, and she heard every word. The comm was still in her ear.

Someone’s hands landed on her arms; steadying her, holding her upright. She didn’t look, didn’t need to. Everything else faded.

She begged silently. Prayed. She didn’t know who she was praying to… she didn’t care.

“Red flag!” someone shouted. Or maybe whispered. Everything was warped and sharp all at once.

She blinked. Jos appeared in front of her, speaking, his lips moved but she couldn’t hear him. Just the ringing.

And then—

“He’s moving! Max is getting out of the car!”

The breath punched out of her. Her lip wobbled. Her knees gave a little.

“Fuck,” she whispered, broken and small.

He pulled her into him, arms wrapped tight. Unshakable. Steady.

She sucked in a sharp breath against his shoulder.

—

They showed her on the main feed.

A cutaway from Max’s crash, the Red Bull pit wall — GP calm and collected, Christian furious, and Amelia… utterly devastated.

She tore her eyes away from the monitor and stared at the floor. She was in the medical wing now, waiting.

51G’s.

A brutal shunt. Career-ending, for some.

Not for Max.

Him climbing out of the car unassisted had been a statement. A declaration. He was still in control. Still standing.

She looked up when Jos stepped out of the examination room. He gave her a nod, then gestured for her to go in.

She entered, and stopped cold.

Max sat on the bed, bruised but upright. Alive.

Her breath hitched. Tears welled instantly.

“Zusje,” he sighed.

She crossed the room in three strides and wrapped her arms around him. Not too tight, she didn’t want to hurt him, but close enough to feel his heart beating, his lungs working, the warmth of him. Real.

He stroked her head, let her cry it out.

When she finally pulled away, lip trembling, eyes darting, he asked, “What did you do?”

So she told him.

Panic in her voice, regret tangled in every word. She’d thought about it, imagined how she’d feel if it were Lando in that crash and no one had reached out. How small and useless and broken she’d feel.

Max’s eyes darkened.

“You called her?” he demanded, already reaching for her phone. “How did you even—”

“It’s too late,” she said quietly. “She’s already on her way.”

Max froze.

“I’m not sorry,” Amelia added, steady now. “If I were her, I’d want to know.”

—

She barely made it to Lando before he climbed back into the car for the restart.

“I love you,” she whispered against his neck. His arms wrapped tight around her, lifting her off the ground with the force of his hold. “I love you so much. Please be safe. Please, Lando.”

He pulled back just enough to make her meet his eyes, steady and sure. The eye-contact made her squirm, but it was important. “I’ll always come back to you, baby. Always.”

She let out a shaky breath, a small, high-pitched sound caught between panic and relief, and hugged him once more before his engineers pulled him away.

Pietra hesitated beside her, hands hovering, then dove forward, wrapping Amelia in a hug despite the warnings both Max and Lando had given her.

“You looked so scared,” she said gently, in Portuguese.

Amelia nodded. Didn’t pull away. Let herself be held. Over Pietra’s shoulder, she locked eyes with Max. He looked concerned, like he was ready to intervene, to pry them apart, but Amelia just sniffled and pressed her face into Pietra’s shoulder.

It was nice to have a friend.

—

“Amelia—”

She ducked her head, jaw tight, eyes hard, and turned on her heel without hesitation.

Her heart stuttered, but she couldn’t stop herself. She was angry… furious, really. He’d carried on, celebrated the win like he hadn’t just sent his rival spinning into a tyre wall. Accident or not, it didn’t sit right in her gut.

And maybe it wasn’t fair.

But Lewis had ignored her before, in Austria.

Now, it was her turn.

—

@/verstappie11 seeing amelia so scared after the crash was scarier than the actual crash. like can somebody hold her please!!!!!!! i never thought i’d be so happy to see jos verstappen lmao

@/pitwallprincess no bc the way the broadcast CUT to Amelia literally holding back tears while GP is stone-faced and Christian is raging… a genuine greek tragedy

@/helmetcamwhore wait why did Amelia look like she was about to sprint to max’s car herself 😭 give her a hug pls omg

@/softlandon4ever it’s the way Lando dropped everything to hug her before the restart… like. weeping. actual soulmates.

@/mercmafia She said “I hope Max comes out on top” on the GRID and then he COLLIDES with Lewis in lap 1??? nah idc what y’all say she’s the problem.

@/tifosislut69 Amelia Brown crying on live TV was not on my bingo card today. she looked DEVASTATED. get this woman a therapist now!

@/chequedflagged I get that she's emotional but Amelia being all cold to lewis post-race in the paddock was giving bad vibes…

@/gp2engine not everyone’s fave stem girlie Amelia Brown walking past Lewis like he doesn’t exist post-race. SHE’S MAD MAD

@/papayapixels watching Amelia literally fold into Pietra’s arms while Lando’s pulled away by engineers… god this garage has SEEN things today

NEXT CHAPTER

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valiwrites · 4 months ago

Text

serendipity ✧.* daniel ricciardo

[ serendipity (n); finding luck without even looking for it ] : ̗̀➛ pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!verstappen!reader : ̗̀➛ warnings: age gap; reader is 25; daniel is 35, hate comments : ̗̀➛ smau

: ̗̀➛ summary: daniel accidentally posts a soft launch on his public account instead of his private

MASTERLIST

danielricciardo ✔︎

liked by lando, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1.2m others

danielricciardo love you forever baby! happy birthday ❤️

view all 735k comments

user1 he did not just drop that on us and left

user2 DANIEL WHAT??

user3 yess!! a new wag 😍

lando does he know he posted that here 😭

user4 lmaoo lando know something we don't

user5 idk your girl but happy birthday to her

user6 now where did she crawl from daniel 😐

user7 y'all don't let anyone have a gf/bf man 😭😭

maxverstappen1 daniel buddy... that's not your private account

user8 she kinds looks like y/n

user9 stopp she doesss

user10 someone tell daniel what he did

yourusername ✔︎

liked by maxverstappen1, oliviagrivas, danielricciardo and 2.3m others

yourusername feeling like the it girl

view all 985k comments

user1 wait a second...

user2 i'm waiting...

user3 suspicious...

user4 the prettiest girl out there 🥰

user5 she has a boyfriend??

user6 its daniel i'm calling it

maxverstappen you're to close to him i said three meters apart

yourusername maxie what the fuck

user7 so max knows him hmmm

user8 everyone in the comments asking if its daniel and its just a random dude at the end lmaoo

user9 im calling it

user10 nah bc daniel can find better

f1wagsnews ✔︎

liked by charles_leclerc and 23k others

f1wagsnews daniel ricciardo caught with a girl in monaco

view all 12k comments

user1 celebrities don't have any privacy dude so what

user2 frr let them be

user3 i think its the girl he accidentally posted

user4 wait he posted a girl accidentally??

user3 yeah but he deleted it an hour later

user4 y'all charles liked this post

user5 i still think it's y/n

user6 me too bc they both posted something coupley 20 minutes apart

user7 why do you believe everything on the internet tho

f1wagsnews i only repost pictures that are sent to me. i can't confirm those are legit

danielricciardo ✔︎

liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511, georgerussel63 and 1.4m others

danielricciardo love you darling

view all 943k comments

user1 okay that's intentional now

user2 definetly

user3 omg her eyes are so prettyyy tell us who she isss

user4 i lowkey love that

user5 cuties!! he's braiding her hair 🥺

user6 guys y/n liked this

user7 i believe its her

maxverstappen1 i will knock you out

user8 yeah, no.. it's definetly y/n

user9 'darling' aww how cute

yourusername ✔︎

liked by danielricciardo, lando, sebastianvettel and 3.5m others

yourusername i guess the cat is out of the bag now

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no-144444 · 9 months ago

Text

the grid reacts: getting caught making out!

featuring: Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Daniel Riccardo, George Russell, Alex Albon, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris

-------------------

Oscar Piastri

It was just meant to be a small peck, but then he wrapped his arms around you, and it escalated. It had all started with a tiny peck, just before you left his driver’s room to leave him time alone before the race, but Oscar had very persuasive lips (and a very persuasive tongue). He lifted you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he deepened the kiss, holding you impossibly close. Then he sat down on his physio table, making you straddle him as you got as turned on as he was. You two had time, right? His hands grabbed anywhere and everywhere, exploring your body, despite knowing it so well. You whimpered into his mouth as he squeezed your ass, making you jolt forward. He smirked as you pulled back, throwing him a look of annoyance.

“Let me kiss it better?” he smirked and you playfully hit his chest, and he pulled you back in for another kiss. "I love you."

“Oscar! We’ve been calling you for-” Lando’s voice rang out as you scrambled to get off of him, but Lando had already seen. You buried your head in your hands, embarrassed and trying not to laugh as Oscar pulled his cap off of his head and covered his bulge. Lando burst out laughing, nearly falling to the floor as he realised what he’d walked in on, and you got up to leave, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and giving Lando a kick on your way out.

You: We are never doing that again. Top 10 most embarrassing moments of my life.

Oscar: Ok WatchMojo.

You: Sassy man apocalypse.

-------------------

Charles Leclerc

Charles was a horny man after races. No matter how tired he was, he had to have you. That’s how you ended up in his driver’s room with his lips on yours. He was intoxicating. His sounds, his lips, his tongue. Everything.

“Mon coeur,” he bit down softly on your collarbone. “Tu es trop belle pour être vraie-” (you are too beautiful to be true)

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me Charles,” you said, out of breath. He had a habit of trying to take things slowly, especially in risky places. You were almost sure he had a thing for doing it in public. He smirked down at you and pressed his lips to your again, using one hand to start to undo your trousers.

Suddenly the door flew open and you both sat up, hitting your head off of the other’s head, both of you groaning out in pain.

“Connerie,” he hissed, holding his forehead.

“Motherfuck!” you groaned as Arthur stared at the two of you dumbfounded, his cheeks red.

“I’ll just… come back later,” he said, then closed the door behind him.

“We’ve just traumatised your little brother,” you sighed, hiding your face in the nape of his neck.

“He will survive,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Too bad my pride didn’t,” you added, making him laugh. God, you loved his laugh.

-------------------

Daniel Riccardo

He was a slick bastard. One ‘I need help with my suit babe’ and there you were in his driver’s room, your shirt being pulled off and new hickies being left over the fading ones. It had been 2 weeks since you’d seen Daniel, too busy to come to the last race, and then you were travelling for a friend’s wedding. Now you were back, and Daniel was planning on showing you just how much he missed you, 40 minutes before the race started, aka, when he was already supposed to be in the damn car.

“Daniel, we should stop just-” You started, thinking about someone walking in on you two. Sadly RB didn’t give their driver’s fucking locks on their doors, probably because of Baku 2018… yeah, you and Daniel weren’t exactly quiet, and he wasn’t exactly happy after that race. “Slow down.”

He pulled back, smirking up at you. “Baby, come on, we have a bunch of time, and I haven’t seen you in 2 whole weeks, who’s going to walk in?”

You nodded and pressed your lips to his again, allowing your conscience to fall away with the way he was kissing you. Kissing Daniel was like nothing else. Everything else fell away, there was only him.

But who would walk in? Yuki, probably.

“Daniel- WOAH! LOCK THE DOOR!” he screamed, alerting the entire motorhome of your actions. You quickly pulled your shirt back over your head as he ran out. As Daniel laughed for a solid minute, you tried to get over your loss of dignity. Yuki sure did make things interesting.

“I have no lock arsehole!” Daniel laughed.

“You do! It’s the weird thing above the handle!” One of the mechanics shouted back. You walked over to the door, turning the thing above the handle, and the door locked. Daniel laughed even harder.

Once you finally stopped Daniel from laughing, you both walked out to the whole team clapping and whooping.

Yeah, not your finest moment.

-------------------

George Russell

His stupid dumb pretty face. He just looked so kissable, and you couldn’t help yourself. He was covered in champagne, and he was supposed to be using these 5 minutes to shower and change, but you had other plans. You ran him to his driver’s room, started kissing him, and didn’t stop. He didn’t seem to mind, even if it meant he wouldn’t get to shower and he’d just be champagne-y all night. He pushed you against the wall, his hands on your waist as you ran your fingers through his hair. His soft, gorgeous hair.

His hands travelled up, taking your top with them and you smirked.

“Getting handsy?” You smirked.

“Never,” he shook his head and pulled your top off, beginning his assault on your neck.

“George! Get out of the fucking shower, you can condition later- OH FUCK OFF!” Aleix, his trainer shouted and ran back out the door. George did the gentlemanly thing and covered you, but not without laughter.

“George!” you hissed as he laughed. “Give me my top!”

He handed you your top and quickly changed into a new suit, spraying himself in deodorant. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek with one last chuckle. “It's a good story for the grandkids,” he shrugged, leaving you with a smile as he went off to do interviews.

-------------------

Alex Albon

Alex had finished in the points again, and you were just so proud of him. Since he’d gotten out of the car you’d kissed him many a thousand times, but he wasn’t complaining. Actually he’d started making out with you about 3 minutes ago, and something in his kisses told you he wasn’t planning on stopping.

“Your mom will be here any minute,” you reminded him, pulling away. He rolled his eyes.

“Did you seriously just mention my mom while I had a semi?”

“Had?”

“You mentioned my mom!”

You chuckled and pressed another kiss to his perfect lips. He pulled you back in, kissing you deeply as his hands ran through your hair, messing it up, but you didn’t care. It felt too good, he felt too good. He nipped at your lips, coaxing them open so he could push his tongue into your mouth. His hands slowly went further down, dangerously close to where your top zipped.

“Alex,” You warned, breathless.

He smirked up at you. “For a minute?”

“Alex-”

“Alex? Are you in here?” George asked, walking in. The Brit was stopped in his tracks when he saw you on his lap, hiding your face in his neck as you tried to contain your embarrassment. He hadn’t even seen anything, but your cheek heated and you wanted the floor to swallow you up. “Oh, sorry for cockblocking, chat later.”

You both started laughing when he left.

“We need to start locking the door,” he sighed.

“I think I’m in shock, I thought that was your mom!” you cried, your breath finally going back to normal as Alex laughed at you.

-------------------

Lewis Hamilton

It wasn’t fair how good he looked in his media day outfits, and he knew it too. He knew you’d pull him to the side and tell him to meet you in his driver’s room, he knew he’d come, and he knew he’d get to fuck you.

So there you were, in his driver’s room, his lips on yours as you both desperately pulled each other’s clothes off.

Too bad you forgot to lock the door.

“Lewis have you- HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK MY EYES!” Lando immediately covered his eyes, turning around as you dressed yourselves. Did you feel guilty? Yes. Did you care at all? Not really. As soon as he left, would you two continue? Probably. “HAVE SOME SHAME AND HUMILITY PLEASE?”

Lewis laughed. “What do you need now?”

“Bleach for my eyes, maybe!” Lando’s voice cracked and he turned back, his cheeks red. “I need an extra ice pack if you have one.”

Lewis nodded and got one of his ice packs out of the freezer in the corner of his room. “Here.”

Lando took it and left without another word. You looked at Lewis, shaking your head.

“I thought you locked the door,” you smirked, allowing him to wrap his arms around your waist and kiss up your neck.

“That’s funny, I thought you did,” he smirked.

“You’re going to get us caught,” you whispered.

“I don’t really care.”

-------------------

Max Verstappen

He’d won (again), and he was horny afterwards (again). As soon as he was done with the podium and the main interviews, he ran to his driver’s room and called you to meet him there, needing some ‘support’.

“Max,” you hissed as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand, kissing down your neck.

“Yes?” he answered innocently, pressing his lips to yours again.

“You have interviews-”

“Fuck the media,” he whispered. “I want you.”

“Max this is a bad idea-”

Just then, the door swung open to reveal Daniel, holding a camera.

“You two need to keep it down, we can hear you down at RB!” he laughed as MAx started blushing, pushing his friend out of the room. They fought for a moment, but Daniel eventually left you two alone. Max sat beside you, letting you lean into him.

“He’s going to post that, isn’t he?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You’d never have a day of peace with him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-------------------

Lando Norris

He was a sly bitch. It started as small pecks on your neck and the top of your head, then it was kisses on the lips, and now he had his tongue down your throat as you ground down on him, even though you both knew he was needed elsewhere.

"That's it," he whispered, loosing himself in the feeling of the both of you. "Feels so good."

You nodded, in pure ecstasy as you felt his hands and lips on you. "So good Lan."

His hands pulled you closer (if that was even possible) and you smiled into the kiss. This was the perfect moment-

"LAN!" Zak brown's voice pulled you both out of it, and you scrambled to get up.

Lando sighed as you left his lap and groaned out a simple "What?"

"We need you for a marketing thing, come on, chop chop!" Zak was as oblivious and cheery as ever and you could barely contain your laughter at Lando's 'annoyed teenager' face, as you and Oscar had started calling it.

"Bye baby," you pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he fought back the urge to ignore his duties and just go back to the hotel and spend the rest of the day with you.

-------------------

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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