#sugar baby!charles

[safetycar-restart]

you know THAT new charles photo. why is he so big (ehm) all of a sudden he's my babygirl ❤️‍🩹

i propose we talk about himbo!charles again 👉👈 him opening the door for ur guests in his pretty pink skirt and heels and his brand new pink chanel blazer that was a gift from his mommy eheheh

he'd open the door, smile on his face, shake their hand and then just softly call out, and you hear that pretty voice just yelling "mommy! your guests are here!" and waits to hide behind you and hold onto your hand cause he doesn't like talking to people! he's there just for show! he's mommy's arm candy and he's only there to look pretty for the guests, after all it's good for your business. leaves a good first impression.

I know you said himbo!charlee and yes absolutely, but I think also sugar baby!charles?? We need to bring back the sugar baby!au and this is the perfect way. I also know you love dumb little sugar baby!charles so I’m sure you have no problem with that being brought into these thoughts.

Firstly, Charles takes people coming over VERY seriously, cause he’s your sugar baby!! He’s your sweet little subby baby who just stays home and makes you happy so he MUST make sure everything is perfect.

Everyone knows he can’t cook to save his life (which is actually a massive insecurity of his in the au cause like, that’s basically supposed to be his only job??), but he can most certainly order things from very expensive restaurants and plate them beautifully and make some amazing cocktails.

Of course he also sets the table and decorates and makes sure all the sex toys are hidden away (because yes, there is usually lube and dildos in the entrance way cabinet).

He shows you his outfit after that, making sure you like it and of course you do!! He looks amazing. He gets an absolutely filthy kiss when you see what he’s wearing, and of course you have to grab his ass a little too. He’s putty in your hands, thanking you and whining and asking if you have to have guests over tonight.

He always does this, because it’s no secret that he would much rather just be at home with his mommy alone!! He’ll still dress up and order expensive food and decorate the apartment.

But no. You have very important guests coming over and hopefully you’ll be able to close an important deal over this dinner so it must happen.

Charles greets them at the door, and receives some death glares from the people accompanying your guests. They’re all wives or sugar babies like him, but none of them look as good or as happy as Charles. It’s an open secret that you treat Charles the best, that he’s always the happiest sugar baby and everyone is very jealous. He loves it though, loves knowing they all want his mommy because he knows they won’t ever get to have you. His mommy is his!!

So he welcomes them and shakes their hands and turns around to call you, ignoring the way the men are undoubtedly staring at his ass in his little skirt. That’s fine, they can stare! He loves to be watched.

You come around the corner to greet everyone, and Charles shrinks back behind you. He’s just arm Candy!! He won’t actually hold a conversation with anyone.

The dinner goes very well, aside from Charles trying to play footsie with you every few minutes because the conversation is boring and the guests are boring and he wants them to leave so he can get fucked. You just ignore his antics.

After dinner, you move to the office with your business partners and Charles serves cocktails. He makes sure to bend down with the tray and show a hint of his pretty pink panties.

You make a show of rolling your eyes at his antics, inviting him to sit on your lap because he can’t control himself. Of course your business partners are watching this with wide eyes, all wanting someone like Charles.

Eventually one of them clears their throat and then you lightly slap Charles’s thigh and tell him to entertain the partners waiting in the living room while you talk business.

Hearing you say things like that always makes his knees weak, cause his mommy is so smart and powerful and he’s just a subby little thing who has to look cute and listen.

So he goes to the living room, and this is by far his least favourite part of night. All the wives and partners and sugar babies are so boring!! They all seem to hate their partners and absolutely despise him for how you openly desire him and love him.

But he makes do, making small talk and pretending to care about their families and kids.

When you come into the living room again with your guests behind you, you have a specific smile on your face that lets Charles know it’s gone well.

Of course he runs over to you, requesting a kiss and then staying by your side, holding onto your arm as you thank everyone for coming and show them to the door.

The moment you have the door closed, you pull Charles and push him up against it, getting a hand under his skirt and on his cock before your guests have even left the driveway.

[selfishpresley]

Masterlist!

Works In Progress: 10 (1 is a twilight fic)

Completed Works: 3 (and i'm proud of that, ok?)

All are on AO3, linked below!

updated as of: 9.23.24

In the darkness, hearts aglow — (Rosalía 'Manu' Marroquín - Rally Driver)

Charles Leclerc x woc!oc, Carlos Sainz x woc!oc

Her career started like this. Her first taste of the road started like that. If she had to choose a moment where her career began. It was under her father’s eye. ___________ Charles wasn't particularly religious. Not like his grandmother, but he could see the appeal when he saw the intense eyes of a young rally driver carving her name into motorsports history.

The Points That Matter — (Challengers!AU)

Checo Pérez x black!Reader x Max Verstappen

She knew in that final set that they understood. When neither boy would relent. When they asked her again after everything. She would admit, "It's like a dance. An intimate dance." An allegory to sex maybe. "You could never feel closer to a person until you're across from them."

Chestappen X Reader/OFC (left as reader but I have been referring to her as Tashi!Reader in my head)

venus as a boy — (sugar baby!Checo)

Checo Pérez x Max Verstappen

Sergio Pérez lives his life as a college student and a sugar baby that tries to cope with the fact that he can't race anymore for reasons known. With many past loves and potential sugar daddies, it's up to him to find his own footing in his life. Main: Chestappen, side checo x multi, minor Glance

like out of a film series -- (Cléo Sélène- fem!woc!OC)

Max Verstappen x woc!OC

French Opera-

As an assistant to Mexico's son, Formula 1 driver, Sergio 'Checo' Perez; Cléo navigates her own debut into the world of motorsports. All while falling for handsome man-whore drivers, gentle Spanish princes, and a very irritating Dutch a-hole. Contains: minor Charles x OC, and beginnings of Carlos x OC. Sequel is Baroque Opera.

Carlos Sainz x woc!OC

Baroque Opera-

In the wake of a devastating heartbreak at the hands of a Dutch manchild, Cléo finds herself falling for a Spanish driver this time. A man that seemed she was always meant to meet. As Checo's assistant and public relations secretary, she tries her hardest to hold onto her sanity and heart as Carlos tries to prove to her that she deserves to be loved. Sequel to French Opera.

Charles Leclerc x woc!OC

Un hombre busca una mujer.

Charles AU of French Opera continued from Chapter 18.

Mark Mateschitz x woc!OC

Empress

Cléo met Mark at the end of May. She, like everyone else, thought that Mark was working with the owner of the team. When she realizes that he's the heir of a very lucrative corporation, she'll have to navigate the media (for herself for once), the people around her, and her own shortcomings. An AU of French Opera.

The Spy Who Loved Me -- (Judith - spy!OC)

Sergio 'Checo' Pérez x spy!OC

Heaven or Las Vegas

He didn’t think it was stress when he spied a young woman dropping a small pill into a man's whiskey. And it definitely wasn’t stress when the man collapsed later that night clutching his chest. It was the first time that Sergio had seen someone die in front of him. And it was the first time that he saw the face of the killer.

Cuando Calienta El Sol/Hentai/Desafió

As Sergio has finished the season, he still kept on with his routine. Adamant that he build up strength, he forgot about the muscles that came with it. He gets to find out how much his partner appreciates the change in physique on their vacation. Can be a standalone but it was made with my spy x racer fic Heaven or Las Vegas.

Canned Heat -- (Omegaverse)

Carlos Sainz x woc!OC (Cléo Sélène)

Like a Tattoo by Sade 

Being a romantic was hard. Being an omega was hard, too. Both would be stupid. Finding her mate while she was craving donuts was stupid and lucky.

Lance Stroll x woc!OC (Beatrice Jones)

Le Temps D'amour

Lance Stroll already made his peace with never finding his mate. As he fell for the charming beta that presented for a sports network that he found himself watching more and more. Until her already lemonade-y scent shifted and everything fell into place.

Brooklyn Baby, Chelsea Girl -- Sugar Baby!reader or OC.

Susie Wolff x reader, Jenson Button x reader, Mark Webber x reader, Susie x Toto x Reader, multiple pairings.

Brooklyn Baby

A sugar baby gets involved with Australian driver, Mark Webber and gets caught up in his life as his dear friend and companion. She also cannot stop thinking about the older blonde woman that looks at her with hatred and disgust in her eyes because of her profession. Could be read as a Reader x Character due to the main character going unnamed. (Though this is a plot device on my end.) Includes Sebastian Vettel, Kimi Räikkönen, Sergio Pérez, Lewis Hamilton, Vicky Piria, Nico Rosberg in the pairings.

[leclercskiesahead]

Hmmm okaaaaaaaay

[laura1633]

sugar baby max is actually such a brilliant idea i’m shocked i haven’t seen more of it!! i mean, max always says if he didn’t have to drive he’d be just sleeping and eating, he loves sleeping in and being lazy in the sun, he’d love it as a sugar baby, and charles would be happy to spoil him rotten, hand feed him fruit and sweets and make sure max is always contently fucked out. maybe max is even a bit worried at first because he follows charles, he knows his lifestyle is very intense (glacier climbing? surfing? skydiving?!), but charles doesn’t force him do any of it with him, he’s perfectly happy having max as the cuddly housecat he is

You are so right anon! Max would love the sugar baby lifestyle, just getting spoiled and being able to live his best life. That would be especially true if he had a hot sugar daddy like Charles!

I love the comparison to a housecat! Max just wants to eat and cuddle up and receive lots of love. Charles would be completely besotted with his beautiful sugar baby and love feeing him nice foods and buying him nice gifts as well as giving him all the affection and keeping him nice and fucked out.

There really isn't much sugar baby Max. I guess it's more common to have sugar baby Charles but Charles should get to be called daddy some times too 👀

[dolcepuccino]

they’re trying to keep it lowkey not to post the same content 👀

[hourcat]

god these bots are so fucking funny

[hannibalzero]

Sugar coated kisses

Charthur one shot

Arthur Morgan, down and out with his gang. Meets renowned horse rancher Charles Smith at that fancy party in Saint Denis.

[theemporium]

hiii!

just curious to know if you’re still posting the onehsot for “devil between the sheets”? ☺️☺️

hiya, I am! it’s just a focus for after smutober!!!

[chussyracing]

@ joris and andre: do u need a third?

[safetycar-restart]

Of course he also sets the table and decorates and makes sure all the sex toys are hidden away (because yes, there is usually lube and dildos in the entrance way cabinet).

GENIUS

so this made me think.

your guests left, and after you gave charles a handjob, you lead him up to your huge bedroom, and you sit down on the chair you dragged near the bed. you sit down on it, and have charles kneel on the ground for you. you told him to fetch his hot pink dildo (with a suction cup, i have a feeling himbo!sugar baby!charles LOVES pink) before you went upstairs. you attach it to the ground, in front of your legs.

charles still has his outfit from earlier on, not bothering to take it off, except for his pretty lace panties. you have him ride the dildo in front of you, his palms planted on the floor as he tilts his head up, eyes closed and lets out the prettiest whimpers. you're just sitting on the chair, legs crossed as you run your hands through his hair, praise him and occasionally bend down to kiss him.

he looks like a little angel, the sun shining through the window and grazing his face. you can almost see the halo above his head!

he rides the dildo until he cums, making a little puddle of cum on the floor, as he lays his head on the inside of your thigh, whimpering and trying to catch his breath <3

ABSOLUTELY GENUIS I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! (this was a lot softer than I intended? I don't know how that happened. I set out intending to write absolute filth and it ended up quite soft??)

Firstly, of course you have to give Charles a hand job the moment the guest leave. Mostly because he just looked so good all night and you've wanted to get your hands on him ever since you saw what he was wearing.

He cums so nicely for you!! Whining against your neck and making a mess of your hand and his pretty skirt. Then, of course, he also licks your hand clean because he's a good boy and he knows to always clean up after himself.

You have to keep an arm around his waist as you walk him to the bedroom since his legs were shaking.

And I fully agree that Charles LOVES pink, cause it's so pretty! And he's so pretty! A match made in heaven (like Charles and his mommy).

He's so excited when you tell him to fetch his pink suction cup dildo, it's his favourite one!! It stretches him so well and makes him feel so good, plus the suction means he can ride it when he's horny and alone.

You sit on the chair and have him put the dildo in front of it, telling him to give you a show and he absolutely does. He thrives on having his mommy's eyes on him, on giving his mommy a show and proving what a good boy he is.

There's no fear of being judged for how loud he is, no worries about not being good enough. He belongs to his mommy, and mommy's things can't ever be looked down on.

You watch him as he rides the dildo, letting him lean against your legs whenever he needs a break. Maybe he even grabs onto your knees for stability? He doesn't even ask. He knows he can use you to help himself.

Often you run your hands through his hair, cupping his jaw. He turns his head and takes your thumb into his mouth, settling with the dildo deep inside him and sucking lightly on your finger. He closes his eyes, wriggling his hips a little to get more friction from the dildo with a small smile around your thumb, so so happy.

You praise him, calling him beautiful and he opens his eyes to look up at you, mumbling something around your thumb which you can't make out.

You laugh at him, removing your thumb and asking what he wanted to say.

"Not as beautiful as mommy," he says, smiling.

He's so cute you can't believe he's yours.

Naturally, you lean down to kiss his nose and then to kiss his lips before sitting back up and telling him to make himself cum, to ride the dildo like a good boy.

He does exactly that, coming so hard and leaving a little puddle on the floor. He whines and shakes, falling forward so that his head is on your leg.

You open your legs, telling him to come forwards and eat you out while he comes down from his orgasm. He lights up at that suggestion, always ready and willing for that.

"Mommy..." he says shyly before he moves, refusing to meet your eyes.

You lean forward and take put your hand under his chin, gently directing his face upwards so he looks at you. You just smile, knowing he'll say what he wanted to if you give him time.

"Can I move the dildo closer and stay on it? Please mommy? Wanna feel full..."

You lean down to kiss him again, telling him that of course he can.

[laura1633]

I feel like sugar daddy Charles would love to dress Max up, soft linen trousers and shirts to tennis matches. Gorgeous fitted suits for galas. But of course Charles’ favorite is to see Max dressed only in bite marks and finger shaped bruises on his hips. He loves having Max naked in his bed. Pale skin so pretty against the white sheets

Charles would absolutely love to dress Max up for various events. He would be mindful of the type of outfits that make Max comfortable because he wants to make him feel good but not feel out of his comfort zone. Max is so fun to dress though, he has an amazing body and Charles loves to find cuts and styles that show off all of Max's lovely curves.

But you are absolutely right anon, Charles loves nothing more than when they come home from an event and he gets to strip Max out of those clothes and kiss all over that soft pale skin.

[pucksandpower]

Young Love and Old Money

Max Verstappen x Stroll!Reader

Summary: Max quickly learns that life with the paddock’s favorite nepo baby as his girlfriend is never boring

You take a deep breath as the town car pulls up to the grand arched doorway of your family’s Montreal estate. Beside you, Max squeezes your hand gently.

“Don’t worry, schatje,” he says, “Your father will love me.”

You smile nervously. “I hope so. But you know how protective he can be.”

Max grins. “I can handle it.”

The driver opens the door and you step out into the crisp night air, your heels clicking on the cobblestone. Max follows, straightening his suit jacket.

Inside, the foyer glitters with crystal chandeliers. A maid hurries to take your coats. As she leads you to the formal dining room, your heart pounds.

This dinner needs to go perfectly.

Your father and Lance are already seated at the long mahogany table, chatting. They look up as you enter and break into smiles.

“Y/N!” Your father exclaims warmly, standing to embrace you. “So wonderful to see you, mon minou.”

You hug him tightly back. “You too, Papa.”

Lance grins as he hugs you next. “Hey sis. Long time no see.”

You playfully mess up his hair. “Too long, little bro.”

Finally, you turn to Max, who is waiting patiently. “Papa, Lance, you already know my boyfriend, Max.”

Max steps forward confidently and shakes their hands. “Mr. Stroll, Lance, it’s an honor to finally meet you both properly.”

Your father looks Max up and down appraisingly. “The honor is mine, Max. Please, call me Lawrence.”

You let out a small sigh of relief as you all take your seats. So far, so good.

The first course is brought out — a decadent lobster bisque. You all sip appreciatively.

“Delicious,” Max compliments.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” your father says graciously. “Now, tell me Max, how is your season going so far?”

You tense slightly. Here it comes, the interrogation.

But Max just smiles. “It’s been excellent. A few tough races, but I’m leading the championship at the moment. The car has great pace and I think we have a shot at the title again this year.”

Lance jumps in enthusiastically. “I saw your battle with Charles last race when I was rewatching the tape. Epic stuff, man!”

“Thanks, mate,” Max chuckles. “It was a fun one for sure.”

You exhale in relief. Max is charming them perfectly.

The conversation flows easily through the next few courses. You can’t help but gaze admiringly at Max as he seamlessly meshes with your family. He has a natural confidence and charisma that puts everyone at ease.

Over dessert, your father says warmly, “Max, I can see why my Y/N cares for you. You’re clearly an exceptional young man, both on and off the track.”

Max smiles, touched. “Thank you, sir. Y/N is very special to me.” He squeezes your hand.

You beam, your heart swelling. This is going even better than you hoped.

You finish up the chocolate mousse and set down your spoon contentedly. “That was delicious. This dinner has been wonderful, thank you Papa.”

“Of course,” your father says fondly. “I’m so glad you both could make it out here from Monaco.”

“Thank you for having me,” Max adds.

“Anytime,” Lawrence smiles.

You glance around the table happily. Your boyfriend fits right in with your family. Everything feels so natural and perfect.

“Daddy, could you please pass the sugar?” You ask amiably.

Immediately, both Max and your father’s hands reach for the small pot of sugar in the center of the table. They both freeze awkwardly for a second, before Lawrence pulls his hand back slowly.

You feel your stomach drop as you see the dawning realization cross your father’s face.

Oh no.

This is bad.

Lawrence’s smile becomes forced. “So tell me Max, what exactly does my daughter call you?”

Max’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Um, just Max usually.”

You sink down in your chair, wincing.

Your father lets out a hollow laugh. “Is that so? Because it didn’t sound like that to me.”

A leaden silence descends on the table. Lance glances between you all, smothering a smirk.

Max clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, uh, that’s just a casual nickname really ...”

Lawrence raises an eyebrow. “A casual nickname you say? For my daughter to call her boyfriend in front of her family?”

You close your eyes, willing yourself to vanish. This is excruciatingly embarrassing.

“Dad, come on,” Lance snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “They’re young, it’s whatever.”

“No Lance, it’s not whatever,” your father snaps, an edge in his voice now. “I would like Max to explain himself here.”

Max holds up his hands placatingly. “Sir, I apologize if we’ve made you uncomfortable. But I assure you our relationship is completely respectful.”

You nod quickly. “Papa, he’s right. Can we please just move on?”

But Lawrence is unyielding. “I will not have anyone take liberties with my daughter, do you understand me, young man?”

Max looks properly chastened. “Yes sir, of course. I meant no offense.”

Your father bristles as he glares between you. The awkward tension hovers for several painful moments.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Papa, stop!” You blurt out. “I’m an adult now. You can’t control what I choose to do with my boyfriend.”

Lawrence looks stunned, then hurt. “Y/N, I’m just looking out for you ...”

“I know, but I don’t need protecting from Max. He’s wonderful and he makes me so happy. Can’t you let me make my own choices?”

Your father’s expression softens. He sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just … so hard for me to think of you growing up.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’ll always be your little girl.”

Lawrence smiles tenderly at you, then turns to Max. “Forgive my outburst, son. I can see how much you care for each other.”

Max looks relieved. “Of course, sir. I understand completely.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Crisis averted.

Your father stands, raising his glass. “To young love. May you always treat my daughter with the honor and respect she deserves.”

“I will, sir,” Max promises earnestly.

You all clink glasses, the tension dissolving. Conversation resumes, lighter and more relaxed now.

Later, as Max helps you on with your coat, your father claps him warmly on the back. “Thank you for making my daughter so happy. You’ll always be welcome in our home.”

Max’s face lights up. “Thank you, sir. That means the world.”

Lawrence winks. “I was young once too, you know. Just maybe keep the nicknames to yourselves around me.”

You all laugh together. Your heart swells with joy. Despite the awkward moments, the evening couldn’t have gone better.

As the chauffeur drives off into the night, you snuggle contentedly into Max’s shoulder. “Thank you for being so wonderful tonight,” you whisper.

He kisses your hair. “Of course, liefje. I would do it all over again for you.”

***

The sleek red Ferrari glints under the showroom lights as you and Max admire your reflection in the gleaming curves.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Max grins, running his hand along the hood. “I can’t wait to take her out on the open road.”

You smile at his childlike enthusiasm. “She certainly is gorgeous. You have great taste, babe.”

The salesman steps forward eagerly. “Yes, the Ferrari SF90 Stradale is our newest supercar model. Twin-turbo V8, 720 horsepower. She’ll do 0 to 60 in under three seconds.”

Max’s eyes light up. “Incredible. I think I’m in love already.”

You laugh. “Should I be jealous?”

“Never,” Max winks, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

The salesman smiles indulgently. “Why don’t we step into my office to finalize the paperwork?”

“Sounds good,” Max agrees, lacing his fingers through yours as you follow the salesman.

In the sleek minimalist office, you both take a seat across from the desk as the salesman pulls up Max’s file.

“Excellent. Everything looks in order, Mr. Verstappen,” he says briskly. “If you just sign here and here, we’ll get you all set up.”

Max eagerly scrawls his signature on the documents. You watch in amusement — he reminds you of a kid on Christmas morning.

“Alright, congratulations!” The salesman stands and shakes Max’s hand. “The SF90 is all yours. We’ll have her prepped and ready for you within the hour.”

“Amazing, thanks so much,” Max grins, standing up.

You’re about to follow him out when a flash of black catches your eye. Through the office window, you spot a brand new Ferrari model on display in the showroom.

“Ooh what’s that one?” You ask curiously, gazing at the aggressive curves and styling.

The salesman glances over. “The new 812 Competizione A. It is a limited edition 599-unit production run. Just unveiled last month.”

You feel a thrill run through you as you take in the stunning hypercar. “It’s incredible. I have to have it.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? You want that one too?”

You turn to the salesman decisively. “I’ll take it. My family has bought from Ferrari for years, my name should be in your client database.”

“Of course, Miss Stroll,” the salesman nods, typing rapidly into his computer. “I see you right here. Let’s start the paperwork and we’ll get the car ordered for you right away.”

You grab your purse, immediately fishing out your black Centurion Card. “Just bill it to my usual card, thanks,” you say breezily, handing it over.

You can feel Max’s stunned gaze on you but you keep your focus on the salesman, reviewing the spec sheet and customization options.

This new Ferrari is just too sexy to resist.

Within minutes, the paperwork is signed and you’ve secured the very first 812 Competizione A destined to stay in Monaco. You grin excitedly — you can’t wait to get your hands on it.

“Thank you so much, just have it delivered to my place in the Fontvieille district when it’s ready,” you tell the appreciative salesman before turning to leave.

You lace your fingers through Max’s, still smiling about your new spontaneously purchased hypercar. “Ready to take your new baby out for a drive?”

Max is quiet as you walk back to the showroom, seemingly lost in thought. He stays silent as the gleaming red SF90 Stradale is pulled around, not even cracking a smile when the salesman hands over the keys with a flourish.

It’s not until you’ve been driving for several minutes, weaving along the coastal roads overlooking the Mediterranean, that Max finally speaks.

“That was 2.13 million euros,” he states flatly. “And you just ... bought it. Without a second thought.”

You glance over, taking in the unreadable expression on his face. “I mean, yeah, it’s a beautiful model. Why not just get it?” You say casually.

Max shakes his head slowly. “I just can’t wrap my head around having that kind of money. That you can just drop over two million without thinking twice.”

You shift slightly, feeling defensive. “I’m sorry, does it make you uncomfortable? I know I grew up with a very different lifestyle ...”

“No, that’s not it at all,” Max interrupts. He pauses, gazing out at the sparkling blue sea pensively.

“It’s just … I’m not used to being with someone who’s on my level. Financially, I mean. All my previous girlfriends, I always had to take care of everything. Pay for dinner, vacations, whatever they needed.”

He turns to look at you. “But you’re different. You have as much money as me, more even. You can buy a hypercar on a whim, no problem. It’s new territory.”

You chew your lip. “I don’t want you to feel emasculated or anything. If you want to pay or take care of things ...”

Max shakes his head again, more firmly this time. “That’s just it — I don’t. I like that you’re independent. It’s really ...”

He pauses, blushing slightly. “Sexy. That’s the word. It’s sexy that you have your own money and success. I’m not used to feeling that in a relationship before.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. That was not the reaction you were expecting.

Max glances at you almost shyly. “Is that weird to say? I just mean, it’s different than what I’m used to, but in a good way. Like we’re equals, you know?”

Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “No, not weird at all. I get what you mean.” You reach over and squeeze his hand. “This is new territory for me too. But I like discovering it together.”

Max’s face lights up with that radiant smile that melts your heart. “Me too, liefje.”

Your conversation flows easily as you cruise along the seaside, the setting sun glittering on the water. And seeing the look in his eyes when he glances at you now — equal parts love and admiration — you realize just how right it feels.

Being with someone who can match you in every way is new and different for both of you. But you have a feeling it’s the start of something beautiful.

***

The energy buzzing around the paddock is electric as you walk hand-in-hand with Max towards the Red Bull motorhome. Fans line the barriers, cheering and shouting his name. Max smiles and waves, slowing to sign autographs and snap selfies with outstretched phones.

You hang back politely as he interacts with his adoring public. You know the drill by now, having attended countless races with your dad and brother over the years. Blend into the background and let the drivers have their moment.

“Max! Can we get an autograph?” A young girl calls out eagerly, brandishing a cap and marker pen.

“Of course!” Max says graciously, letting go of your hand to walk over.

You hang back contentedly, happy to let him have his moment with his supporters. You catch snippets of their supportive comments as Max signs item after item, posing for selfies in between.

“You’re the greatest, Max!”

“That last win was epic. Get that fourth title this year!”

“We love you so much!”

You smile to yourself. Seeing how much joy Max brings to these fans makes your heart swell with pride and affection.

As you stand waiting patiently, you overhear the girl lean over to her friend and not-so-subtly whisper, “Who’s the chick with Max? She looks kinda stuck up if you ask me.”

Your smile freezes. You see the girl jerk her head rudely in your direction, glaring at you.

“I know right,” her friend agrees in a carrying whisper. “Another gold-digger who managed to sink her claws into a rich man too blind to see what she’s doing.”

You clench your jaw, stung by their spiteful words. Who do they think they are, judging you when they don’t even know you?

Max is still occupied with the other fans, oblivious. You debate whether to just ignore the rude girls. But their jealous gossiping has sparked your defiance. Why should you stay silent?

Squaring your shoulders, you turn and level a steady gaze at them. “For your information, I don’t need a rich man. I am a rich man,” you state coldly.

Their eyes widen in shock, mouths dropping open stupidly. Clearly they weren’t expecting you to confront them.

Before they can react, Max is suddenly beside you, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Whoa, everything okay here?” His gaze darts between you and the embarrassed fans.

You take a breath, ready to explain it away. But Max doesn’t give you the chance.

“You know, if anything, I’m the one who got my claws hooked into her,” he announces, lips curving into a smirk.

Now it’s your turn to gape at him in surprise. The nasty fans look completely bewildered.

“That’s right ladies, I’m just a kept man,” Max continues lightly. “Her arm candy. A sugar baby, if you will.”

He pretends to examine his nails arrogantly and you have to stifle a shocked laugh. Is he actually joking about being your boy toy right now?

Max leans in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, dating a Stroll has done wonders for my bank account. I mean have you seen the new and improved garage decor?”

You smother your grin behind your hand as he prattles on, winking at you.

“So don’t worry about Y/N here, she can buy and sell me twice over.” Max presses a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Isn’t that right, schatje?”

Finally you can’t hold back your laughter anymore. Max joins in and the fans stare, unsure how to react.

“Come on sugar mama, we’ve got a race to win,” Max says breezily, steering you away.

Once safely inside the garage, you turn to him incredulously. “What was that all about?”

Max shrugs, his expression sobering. “I heard what they said. Just wanted to shut them up and defend my girl.”

Your heart melts. Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him soundly. “My hero. Thank you.”

Max still looks bothered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with stupid gossip. Especially not lies about you using me.”

You slip your arms around his neck persuasively. “It usually doesn’t get to me. Let the jealous haters talk. We know the truth.”

He sighs, gently moving a strand of hair from your face. “I just hate anyone thinking badly of you. You deserve the world.”

Touched by his sincerity, you pull him down into a soft kiss. When you finally draw apart, an idea pops into your head.

“Although ...” you begin thoughtfully, “Maybe we should lean into it.”

Max looks confused. “What do you mean?”

You grin mischievously. “You’re my hot trophy boyfriend. I need to show you off and treat you right.”

Comprehension dawns on Max’s face and he barks out a laugh. “Well I won’t say no to being spoiled.”

He winks roguishly and you dissolve into giggles. The stupid gossipers don’t know anything. You and Max are just perfect together.

For the rest of the weekend, you shamelessly flaunt your new role as Max’s “sugar mommy.” At every opportunity, you shower him with over-the-top gifts and PDA in front of the other drivers and team members.

Designer watches, bouquets of flowers, bottles of decadent gin for his favorite drink — you deliver them all publicly to Max along with cooed compliments and kisses. You can see the amusement hidden behind his mock protests at being “objectified.”

The other drivers are endlessly entertained. Daniel teases Max about latching onto an heiress, while Charles jokingly asks if you have a sister he can date.

By the time Max wins on Sunday, cementing his spot at the top of the championship, the silly gossip from earlier in the weekend is long forgotten.

As you snuggle together on the flight home from the race, you turn to Max curiously. “So, how does it feel being a kept man?”

He pretends to consider it deeply. “Hmm, tough to say. The gifts and pampering were nice ...”

You swat his chest indignantly and he laughs.

“Kidding, kidding,” he assures, pulling you tighter against him. “Obviously I love you for you, not your money, schatje.”

His voice softens. “Thank you for this weekend. I know the gossip bothered you, even if you didn’t show it. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”

You tilt your face up to meet his lips, kissing him tenderly. No more words are needed. Being together says it all.

***

The roar of the crowd surrounds you as you step onto the red carpet on Max’s arm, cameras flashing wildly. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and leans in close.

“You ready for this, liefje?”

You take a deep breath and nod, pasting on a smile. “Ready.”

This is your big formal debut — attending your first FIA Prize Giving Ceremony as Max’s girlfriend. And with him just winning his fourth World Championship, all eyes are sure to be on you both tonight.

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you begin the walk down the carpet, waving politely to the fans shouting Max’s name. He looks completely at ease, his fourth-straight title boosting his confidence even higher.

You, on the other hand, feel like you might trip over your gown at any moment under the blinding spotlights. But you keep your chin high, channeling the poise that’s been drilled into you since girlhood.

Perks of growing up in high society — you know how to fake it on a red carpet.

About halfway down, an interviewer steps forward, microphone in hand. “Max Verstappen! Congratulations on your fourth championship. How are you feeling tonight?”

Max smiles easily. “Thank you, it feels amazing. It was a great battle all season long so this one feels very satisfying.”

The reporter nods, then turns her attention to you. “And who is this lovely lady accompanying you tonight?”

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Max introduces you proudly.

“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning tonight, if you don’t mind me saying,” the interviewer gushes. “That gown is exquisite!”

You relax slightly, warming to her friendly tone. “Thank you so much!” You smile.

“In fact, both of your outfits are fabulous,” she continues. “Who are you wearing tonight?”

Max’s face lights up. He squeezes your hand excitedly. “Funny you should ask — we’re both wearing custom Y/N Stroll originals!”

You have to resist the urge to giggle at the unconcealed pride in his voice.

The interviewer’s eyes widen. “No way, you designed these yourselves?”

You nod, enjoying her reaction. “I did, yeah. Fashion design is a bit of a hobby of mine.”

“A hobby she’s amazing at,” Max interjects adoringly. “She could have her own luxury brand if she wanted. I feel so honored to wear her work.”

You blush at his high praise. “Oh Max, stop. But thank you, that’s so sweet.”

The reporter seems thrilled at this exclusive scoop. “Incredible! It looks like you have some serious talent, Y/N. Any plans to pursue that more seriously?”

You hesitate briefly. Your father has been gently nudging you to take over his fashion business when he retires. But that’s still in the future ...

You decide to give a lighthearted answer. “We’ll see! Fashion does run in my family so it’s always a possibility.” You finish with a coy smile.

“How wonderful! We’ll be keeping an eye out for Y/N Stroll designs in the future then,” the reporter concludes enthusiastically.

You grin and wave as she lets you continue down the carpet, Max’s arm securely around your waist.

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He murmurs in your ear.

“Not at all,” you admit. “I might get used to this whole red carpet thing after all.”

Max winks. “Stick with me and you’ll be a pro in no time.”

Your heart flutters happily. Being by his side just feels so right.

Inside the lavish venue, you’re shown to your table near the front with the other top drivers and their partners. Max pulls out your chair politely before sitting down beside you.

You chat with the other girls at the table, fellow WAGs you’ve gotten to know over the course of the season. They gush over the dress you designed, making you promise to create something for them too.

Soon, the lights dim and the ceremony begins. You clap loudly as Max wins Driver of the Year, bursting with pride for your champion.

Finally, the moment comes for the big one. The announcer begins the buildup, recapping the season’s epic title battle between Max and his closest rival.

"… And in the end, one man emerged victorious for the fourth time in his young but dazzling career,” the announcer concludes. “Formula 1 World Driver’s Champion ... Max Verstappen!”

The room explodes into thunderous applause as Max squeezes your hand and makes his way up to the stage, beaming. You watch with tears in your eyes as he accepts the trophy, looking so handsome and accomplished.

After the ceremony finishes, Max makes his way back to you, trophy in hand. You throw your arms around him. “I’m so proud of you!”

He hugs you tight, then pulls back, his expression earnest. “I couldn’t have done it without your support this season. Having you by my side means everything to me.”

Your heart swells and you kiss him tenderly. “You deserve this so much. And nothing makes me happier than being with you.”

Max’s eyes shine. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Max.”

[hourcat]

piarles authors gain special manifesting abilities after a certain threshold of understanding™ is crossed

[hannibalzero]

Sugar baby au

Charthur

I saw this tictok where a man was rubbing a ladies leg down with oil and used a straight blade razor to shave her legs. It was very intimate.

So I thought Charles would do that to his good boy. Arthur being scared but tame for Charles as he shaves Arthur all over, the kiss of the metal, the silky smooth skin. Well as best as Arthur can get smooth haha. Arthur hiding his face in embarrassment as Charles lifts his leg admiring how strong he is, the calf the thigh, sole and foot. Maybe a kiss to those toes. Pure spoiling and gentle something that Arthur never has had.

Charles ends up shaving Arthur’s arms, chest, underarms and face. Smooth and clean, perfect for him.

Idk it’s a fun idea and Arthur being so embarrassed about such treatment.

“Ya don’t have too! I ain’t worth it. I’mma grown man ya know-“

“Shhh princess”

“Meep.”

Thoughts?

[hiraishua]

FORMULA ONE FORMULA TWO . RECOMMENDED LIST

+ 최고 — other lists

☥ charles leclerc

sunkissed face : with female reader series!

secrets he’ll keep : with female reader part two

ode to the dogs of war : with female reader series!

birthday cake : with female bianchi reader series!

☥ max verstappen

last call : with female reader oneshot!

roses and feelings : with female reader oneshot!

seven : with female schumacher reader oneshot!

blonde hair, lemonade tea : with female reader oneshot!

the cat sitter : with female reader series!

two lines : with female reader oneshot!

too cold : with female reader oneshot!

☥ daniel ricciardo

peace : with female reader oneshot!

girl crush : with actress reader oneshot!

though i have to travel far, remember me : with gn driver reader oneshot!

baby ric : with female reader oneshot!

the 1 : with female horner reader part two

☥ lando norris

6 to 1 : with female leclerc reader series!

you are my sunshine : with female reader oneshot!

wedding bells : with female reader oneshot!

drunk girls do cry : with female reader oneshot!

all i want is my sweet lover : with female reader oneshot!

big dad vibes : with female reader oneshot!

a golf swing and a trampoline part two part three

it’s a match : with female reader series!

in a galaxy far, far away : with female reader series!

dont fuck it, you muppet : with female reader oneshot!

spider-man lando : with gender neutral reader oneshot!

☥ oscar piastri

lavender and vanilla : with female reader oneshot!

best i ever had : with female reader oneshot!

☥ lewis hamilton

the muse behind the camera : with female reader oneshot!

☥ mick schumacher

oh, baby : with female reader oneshot!

☥ lance stroll

sugar plum : with female reader oneshot!

keeping it professional : with female reader oneshot! part 2

☥ ollie bearman

enamorado : with female reader oneshot!

☥ other

little leclerc : with female leclerc reader series!

— features ollie bearman x reader

the lighting on track : with female stark reader series!

— a mcu and formula one crossover!!

| EXPLICIT BASED

delicious : lando norris with female sainz reader

winner’s prize : charles leclerc with female reader

second time around : lando norris with female reader

naughty list : oscar piastri with female reader

[ravengards-rogue]

i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆