#F1 Fandom

[elia-the-bibliophile]

Barking Up the Right Tree (Charles Leclerc x Female Reader)

Genre: Fluff Word count: 3,6k

When Charles loses his beloved pup, Leo Leclerc, a chance encounter with Y/N sets off unexpected connections, with Leo as their furry matchmaker.

Chaos ensued within the walls of Charles Leclerc's apartment. The normally serene atmosphere was shattered by the frantic shouts of a disheveled Charles, whose in a state of sheer panic.

“Leo! Leo Leclerc, where are you, you little rascal?” Charles bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls in a comically dramatic fashion.

His apartment was like a crime scene. Furniture was overturned, cushions were scattered haphazardly, and drawers were flung open with reckless abandon. Charles, with his hair disheveled and clothes askew, resembled a character straight out of a slapstick comedy.

In his frenzied search for his beloved puppy, Charles would left no stone unturned, quite literally. He rummaged through cabinets, peeked under the sofa, and even checked inside the refrigerator, all to no avail.

“Leo, this is no time for hide-and-seek!” Charles exclaimed, frustration evident in his voice as he stumbled over a stray slipper.

He then moved his search outside. As Charles raced through the corridors of his apartment building, his anxiety reached fever pitch. With each passing minute, his desperation intensified, evident in the way he nervously gnawed on his nails, his mind swirling with worst-case scenarios.

“Merde! I've lost my son! Comment cela pourrait-il arriver.”

Undeterred by the curious stares from his neighbors and fueled by a single-minded determination to find Leo, Charles pressed on, his heart racing with every beat. The thought of his beloved puppy lost and alone filled him with a sense of dread he couldn't shake.

With a frantic flutter of fingers, Charles dialed his younger brother Arthur's number, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a drummer in a speed metal band. As the phone rang, he paced back and forth in the hallway.

“Arthur! Arthur, it's Charles,” he blurted out as soon as his brother picked up, words tumbling out of his mouth.

But poor Arthur, who was likely expecting a casual chat about the latest racing gossip, was utterly unprepared for the torrent of words that assaulted his ears.

“Woah, Hey. Slow down, Charles, I can barely understand a word you're saying!” Arthur protested, his voice barely audible over the static of the phone line.

Charles, however, was in no mood to slow down. With a mind as revved up as a Red Bull engine on race day, he continued to babble on at breakneck speed, his words blurring together into an incomprehensible stream of syllables.

“Leo's missing, Arthur! I've searched everywhere, but he's nowhere to be found!” Charles exclaimed, his voice reaching a pitch that could shatter glass.

But try as he might, poor Arthur simply couldn't keep up with his older brother's frantic pace. In the end, all he could do was offer a bewildered “What? Please speak like a normal person.”

Charles took a quick, short breath to anchor himself. With newfound focus, he prepared to explain the emergency concisely to Arthur, knowing that every second counted in finding Leo.

“Arthur, listen carefully," Charles began, his voice measured this time. “Leo, my puppy, he's gone missing. I need your help to find him.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line as Arthur processed the information, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden change in tempo.

“Leo's missing?” Arthur repeated, his voice tinged with concern. “Don't worry, we'll find him together. I'll be there in a flash.”

With Arthur's reassurance ringing in his ears, Charles responded. “Thank you,” nodding along, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

And so, Charles hung up the phone. Little did he know, however, that the help he sought was already on its way in the most unexpected of forms.

__________________________________________

Y/N had just finished working, the gentle breeze caressed her skin, carrying with it the promise of warmer days ahead. Monaco, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, seemed to shimmer with an ethereal beauty, casting long shadows that danced playfully along the cobblestone streets.

Today, the weather was exceptionally pleasant, with hints of spring lingering in the air. The scent of blooming flowers mingled with the salty tang of the sea, creating a symphony of fragrances like no other.

Y/N was startled by a faint sound emanating from a nearby bush. At first, she froze in place, “What the—.”

With cautious steps, Y/N approached the bush, her senses on high alert as she strained to identify the source of the mysterious sound. Her palms grew clammy with nervous anticipation, her breaths shallow and quick as adrenaline surged through her veins.

And then amidst the rustle of leaves, she heard it—a soft whimper, barely audible yet unmistakably plaintive. In an instant, fear gave way to compassion as Y/N's instincts kicked into overdrive, overriding her hesitation.

She pushed aside the foliage as she peered into the shadows within. And there, nestled among the leaves, was a small, trembling form—a lost and frightened puppy, its eyes wide with fear and confusion.

With gentle hands, Y/N scooped up the puppy, cradling it against her chest in a gesture of reassurance. She whispered soothing words, her voice soft like a lullaby, as she stroked the puppy's fur in rhythmic motions.

Feeling the warmth of Y/N's embrace and the steady beat of her heart, the puppy began to relax, its panicked whimpers gradually subsiding into quiet sighs. It nestled closer to Y/N, seeking consolation in her comforting presence, as if sensing that she meant no harm.

And then, in a moment that seemed to stretch on for, the puppy lifted its head and looked up at Y/N with eyes that sparkled with trust. With a tentative wag of its tail, it leaned forward and pressed a gentle lick against Y/N's cheek, a silent gesture of gratitude, making her chuckle with just a simple act.

“Hi, little one. I don’t know who you are, but I promise I’ll help get you back home, okay?” The puppy let out a soft woof, as if in agreement.

__________________________________________

When Arthur arrived at Charles' apartment, he was greeted by a scene straight out of a sitcom gone awry. His older brother, usually so composed, looked like a fish out of water amidst the lavish surroundings.

“Charles, what in the world are you doing?” Arthur exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief as he took in the sight before him.

But Charles, lost in the throes of his own melodrama, barely registered his brother's presence. “I've lost Leo, Arthur! My precious Leo!” Charles wailed, his voice echoing off the walls like a mournful opera singer.

Arthur blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of this erratic behavior. But Charles was already off on another tangent, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger as he ranted and raved about the injustice of it all.

“I've searched high and low, Arthur, but he's nowhere to be found! What if he's been kidnapped and sold to the meat market? Or worse, what if he's fallen into the clutches of the neighborhood cat gang?”

Arthur could only stare in bemusement as Charles launched into a series of increasingly outlandish scenarios, his arms flailing wildly in the air. “Charles, calm down!” Arthur interjected, trying in vain to inject some semblance of reason into the situation. “We'll find Leo, I promise. But first, you need to pull yourself together!”

And so, with Arthur's attempts at reason falling on deaf ears, the two brothers found themselves locked in a battle of wills—one determined to bring order to the chaos, and the other lost in a world of his own making.

__________________________________________

With a gentle pat on the back, Y/N lowered the puppy to the floor, watching with a smile as it tentatively sniffed and explored its new surroundings. The apartment, though small, was filled with touches of homely comfort—a plush rug nestled beneath a worn armchair, a scattering of potted plants adorning the windowsill, and soft, inviting cushions scattered across the sofa.

“It's okay, little one,” Y/N cooed. “You're safe here now.”

Encouraged by her words, the puppy ventured forth with cautious steps, its tail wagging tentatively as it took in the unfamiliar sights and sounds. With each passing moment, it seemed to grow more at ease.

Its curious nose led it to a corner where Y/N had left a worn cardigan on the floor. With a delighted yip, the puppy bounded over to the garment, nuzzling into its soft folds with unabashed enthusiasm. It snuggled into the fabric, finding comfort in the familiar scent of its new human friend.

Y/N watched with a smile as the puppy nestled into her cardigan, her heart swelling with affection for the adorable creature. “Well, it looks like you've found yourself a favorite spot,” she remarked fondly.

Turning her attention to the puppy, Y/N reached out to stroke its fur. “I'm sorry that I don't know your name,” her eyes meeting the puppy's in a silent exchange of understanding. “For now, I'll just call you chiot.”

Chiot let out a happy bark in response, as if to signify its approval. It wagged its tail enthusiastically.

With a smile, Y/N reached into a nearby cupboard, retrieving a handful of leftover treats from her weekend dog-sitting gigs. “Here you go, chiot," she said, offering the treats to the puppy with an encouraging smile. “You deserve a little something special for being such a good boy.”

Chiot eagerly accepted the treats, gobbling them up with gusto as if to say thank you in the only way it knew how.

Y/N rose from her seat to retrieve her phone. Social media, after all, had a remarkable ability to connect people and she was determined to reunite chiot with his rightful owner.

As she approached the window where the soft light filtered in, Y/N smiled widely at the sight of chiot playing with the edge of her cardigan. It was a picture-perfect moment—one she knew could tug at the heartstrings of even the most stoic of social media users.

With deft fingers, Y/N snapped a quick photo, capturing the essence of the moment in all its adorable glory. She added a caption to accompany the image, a plea to the online community to help her find chiot’s missing owner.

“Lost pup found a cozy spot in my cardigan. I met him on Rue Jean Bouin on my way home. Help me find its owner, Twitterverse! #LostPuppy #Monaco”

With a satisfied nod, Y/N hit the "tweet" button, sending the message out with a hopeful anticipation. And as she watched the likes and retweets trickle in, she couldn't help but feel a surge of optimism that, with a little help from the online community, chiot would soon be home.

Y/N then set her phone down on the counter and turned her attention to the stack of dirty dishes awaiting her. The mundane task of washing dishes was a welcome distraction from the excitement of the afternoon, offering a sense of grounding in the familiar rhythm of her usual daily life.

As she rolled up her sleeves and reached for the dish soap, Y/N hum the newest Sabrina Carpenter’s song under her breath, the melody weaving its way through the air. With practiced efficiency, she tackled the dishes one by one, the warm water soothing her hands as she scrubbed away the remnants of meals past.

__________________________________________

As Y/N tackled her chores, little did she know that her tweet had sparked a wildfire of activity on Twitter. Within moments, it began trending, its reach extending far beyond the borders of Monaco. Twitter users from all corners of the globe joined in the effort, sharing the photo of chiot and spreading the word in the hopes of finding its owner.

But as the photo made its rounds on the internet, eagle-eyed users couldn't help but notice something uncanny—the striking resemblance between chiot and Leo. Speculation ran rampant, with Twitter sleuths piecing together the puzzle one clue at a time.

“Could that be Leo?” one user pondered, their tweet quickly garnering hundreds of retweets and likes.

“OMG, I think you're onto something! Let's get this to Charles Leclerc.” another user replied.

And so, they all flooded Charles’ mentions, bombarding him with tweets and notifications.

Meanwhile, Charles’ annoyance grew with each incessant ping of his phone. With a frustrated sigh, he snatched the device and thrust it into Arthur's unsuspecting hands, his brow furrowed in irritation.

“Read it and tell me what on earth is happening for it to be ringing so much,” Charles grumbled.

But as Arthur's eyes scanned the screen, his expression transformed from confusion to excitement in a matter of seconds. His jaw dropped open in disbelief, eyes widening. “Charles, you won't believe this!” Arthur exclaimed excitedly. “The people on Twitter, they've found Leo!”

Charles froze, his dramatic facade crumbling in an instant as the weight of Arthur's words sank in. His mouth hanging open in a silent gasp as he struggled to process the sudden turn of events.

“They've found Leo?” Charles repeated, his voice barely above a whisper as hope blossomed within him. “Are you sure? Don’t give me false hope.”

Arthur nodded enthusiastically as he relayed the details of the Twitter frenzy. “It's true! They've been retweeting and tagging you like crazy. We need to check it out right now!”

As to prove his point, Arthur shoved the phone back into Charles' face, the screen ablaze with the viral picture. And there, in all his adorable glory, was Leo—staring back at Charles. His breath caught in his throat, as he reached out to touch the screen, as if to confirm that this was indeed real. “Leo,” Charles whispered, tears of joy welled up in his eyes. “You're safe.”

He stared upon the image of his beloved puppy, surrounded by a sea of retweets and likes, “Thank you, kind Twitter people,” Charles murmured. “You've truly worked a miracle today.”

And with that, Charles message the account that originally posted the photo. Their reply comes not even a minute later.

__________________________________________

Y/N jumped excitedly. “I've found your owner!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement as she clutched her phone tightly in her hands. “Well not exactly, since they found me first.” She said to chiot whose name is apparently Leo.

She quickly composed a message to the anonymous account that had reached out to her, fingers flying across the screen with practiced ease. “Hi there, please come to my apartment to pick Leo up. Here's my address,” she wrote, including the details of her humble abode.

But as she hit send, a nagging thought tugged at the edges of her mind—she still didn't know who she was reaching out to. The message had come from an anonymous account, offering little in the way of clues except for the name “Charles.”

But Y/N, ever the optimist, simply shrugged off her concerns. “Well, I'll find out soon enough,” she reasoned aloud to herself.

And with that, Y/N waited patiently for Leo's owner to arrive, she allowed herself to bask in the warm glow of the moment, savoring the magic of the unexpected connections that life had brought her way.

__________________________________________

Charles and Arthur arrived at the address provided, they found themselves standing before a modest apartment building, its faded facade hinting at the stories contained within its walls.

They climbed up three level of stairs before reaching the designated floor, their hearts pounding from either anticipation or the effort that it took to climb here. Arthur then raised his hand to knock on the door. The sound echoed through the hallway like a drumroll.

With a breathless hush, the door swung open, revealing Y/N with Leo cradled in her arms like an infant. The puppy barked excitedly at the sight of Charles, his tail wagging furiously as he squirmed in Y/N's embrace.

And there, in that moment, time seemed to stand still as Charles beheld the sight before him. His heart swelled with joy at the sight of Leo, but his gaze was also drawn irresistibly to the figure standing before him.

“Leo!” Charles greeted, his voice filled with unbridled joy as he reached out to scoop the puppy into his awaiting arms. Leo responded with an enthusiastic lick to Charles' face.

But as Charles looked up to thank Y/N for her kindness, he found himself momentarily speechless, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her standing before him. She was even more beautiful up close.

“Thank you so much for finding him,” Charles managed to say as he looked into Y/N's eyes. “I can't begin to express how much this means to me.”

As Y/N stood before Charles, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest, she struggled to find the right words to convey the mix of emotions swirling within her. Her mind raced a mile a minute, leaving her speechless and utterly flustered.

“Um... hi, yeah. You’re welcome.” Y/N stammered as she struggled to regain her composure. But try as she might, the words seemed to elude her. And so, with a helpless shrug and an awkward smile, she simply stood there, her gaze locked with Charles', her mind a blank canvas awaiting inspiration.

Meanwhile, Arthur, ever the astute observer, couldn't help but notice the strange exchange unfolding before him. A suppressed chuckle bubbled up within him, as he watched his brother turn into an awkward mess. The woman opposite him doesn’t look that good either.

Arthur discreetly nudged Charles with his elbow, Charles just shot him back an annoyed look.

Was he witnessing his brother, THE Charles Leclerc, developing a crush on someone he had just met?

His suspicions were only heightened as he noticed Charles' telltale fidgeting—the nervous habit of tugging at the edge of his jacket, a sure sign that his brother was feeling the heat of the moment. With each tug and twist of the fabric, Charles seemed to grow more and more flustered.

But if Charles was nervous, then Y/N was equally oblivious to her own telltale signs of attraction. Unbeknownst to her, she was absentmindedly fixing her hair, smoothing down stray strands with delicate fingers in a gesture as unconscious as it was endearing. Her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity as she met Charles' gaze.

And all the while, Arthur stood there, caught in the crossfire of his brother and this alluring stranger, no longer able to suppress the laughter from deep within him. It was a scene straight out of a romantic comedy. The sheer absurdity of it left Arthur struggling to keep a straight face.

As Arthur's laughter reverberated through the hallway, Charles and Y/N were jolted awake, their gaze meeting in a shared moment of bemusement. With a sheepish smile, Charles extended his hand towards Y/N and she accepted the gesture with a shy smile, her hand fitting nicely in his.

“It's nice to officially meet you, Y/N,” Charles said, his voice sincere. “I can't thank you enough for taking care of Leo.”

Y/N returned his smile with a warm one of her own. “Oh, it was no fuss at all,” she replied. “I loved every moment of taking care of Leo. He is very sweet.”

Leo let out a playful bark, his tail wagging furiously as if to confirm that he had indeed behaved well during his unexpected adventure.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Leo's enthusiastic response, her heart melting at the sight of his playful antics. With a tender smile, she reached out to rub his head affectionately, her fingers sinking into his soft fur as she showered him with praise.

“You're such a good boy, Leo,” Y/N murmured, her voice filled with genuine affection as she gazed into his soulful eyes. “Thank you for spending some time with me.”

Charles realized it is time to take his leave, even though every fiber of his being longed to stay and say more. With a polite nod and another murmured word of thanks, he turned to make his exit, his heart heavy with the weight of missed opportunities.

But just as he took a few steps on the direction of the stairs, Charles felt a sudden weight lift from his arms as Leo wriggled free and bounded back towards Y/N, his tail wagging eagerly as if urging her to come along. Charles froze in his tracks.

Y/N, however, frowned slightly, her brow furrowing in confusion as she watched Leo's antics. “I'm sorry, Leo,” she said. “But I can't come with you. You’re back with your dad now.”

At her words, Leo let out a soft whine, his ears drooping in disappointment. His eyes now glistened with unshed tears.

And as Charles watched the exchange between Y/N and Leo, a pang of sympathy tugged at his heartstrings, his own feelings of awkwardness momentarily forgotten. He longed to reach out and comfort them both.

But alas, the moment passed too quickly and before Charles could find the words, Leo sullenly walk back to him.

Before his mind could process his thoughts, Charles blurted out, “Uh by any chance can I, uh, get your number?”

Y/N's grin widened into a radiant smile at his request. She went inside and came back with pen and scrap of paper, her movements graceful as she jotted down her digits.

But Y/N wasn't done yet. She added one final touch to the paper—a little doodle of Leo, complete with a wagging tail and a cheerful smile. Beneath the sketch, she scribbled a note that read, “And if you ever need a dog sitter for this little troublemaker, you know who to call!”

“Sure thing!” she chirped. “Here you go.”

And as she watched him tuck the paper into his pocket, she knew that not a minute would go by without her waiting for that message from him to arrive.

#f1 #f1 blurb #f1 drabble #f1 x you #f1 fic rec #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #reader insert #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc 16 #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 one shot #cl16 x y/n

[norrisleclercf1]

What do you mean there's a baby picture of Max. F, Lando and Logan together 😭😭😭😭

#fuck off they're adorable #look at little baby logan #can't believe they knew each other #which makes it hurt more that logan is only close to oscar #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #max fewtrell #logan sargeant #lando norris

[pucksandpower]

Crazy Cravings

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Summary: pregnancy cravings can make you (and your husband) do crazy things … neither of you particularly minds

Warnings: 18+ content and pregnancy

You sit in the Red Bull Racing garage, feeling the warm Spanish sun on your face through the open door. The roar of engines and whirring of power tools surrounds you as the mechanics prepare for the race.

Your eyes are drawn to the iconic blue and silver cans scattered around the garage. Those tantalizing cans of Red Bull that everyone else seems to be drinking so casually.

Everyone except you and Max, that is.

You rub your rounded belly, feeling your precious cargo kick and squirm inside you. At six months pregnant, your cravings have been … intense, to say the least. But none more powerful than your longing for the crisp, fizzy taste of Red Bull.

The caffeine is off limits, of course. You would never dream of jeopardizing your baby’s health. But oh, how you crave that sweet, energizing flavor that used to be such a routine part of your life.

Max emerges from the back room, his bright grey eyes instantly finding you. He strides over, that effortless confidence and raw athleticism making your heart flutter, even after all these years. His gaze drifts to the Red Bull can in a mechanic’s hand and a grimace crosses his face.

“Liefje, are you alright?” He murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I know how much those are torturing you lately.”

You force a smile, not wanting him to worry. “I’m fine, Maxie. Just … ignoring the siren call of carbonated temptation.”

His thumb strokes your cheek as he studies you, clearly not convinced. Max has been so incredibly supportive during this pregnancy, abstaining from Red Bull himself in solidarity. Cutting out his biggest vice, just so you don’t have to be tormented by the sight and scent of it everywhere.

“We should get you out of here,” he says, looping an arm around your waist to help leverage your bulk out of the chair. “The smells can’t be helping those crazy cravings.”

You open your mouth to protest, not wanting to pull him away from his work, but a fresh wave of dizzying desire hits you as a mechanic cracks open another can. The fizzing hiss and unmistakable scent make your mouth water uncontrollably.

“Max ...” you whisper, feeling your throat tighten with barely restrained craving and hormonal tears prickling your eyes.

He follows your yearning gaze to the Red Bull can and understanding dawns. “Oh, liefje ...” Scooping you into his arms, he strides from the garage, shooting an apologetic look at his crew.

Once outside in the fresh air, you bury your face against Max’s shoulder, inhaling his familiar, comforting cologne as he carries you to the motorhome. He eases you onto the couch, brushing kisses along your forehead and temple.

“I’m so sorry, schatje,” he murmurs, anguish lining his handsome features. “I hate seeing you suffer like this. If there was any way I could make the cravings stop ...”

You catch his hand, lacing your fingers through his calloused ones. “Max, you know I would never actually ask you to give up Red Bull, right?”

He shakes his head fiercely. “Not being able to have it for nine months is nothing compared to your sacrifice, carrying our baby. I don’t deserve you.”

Pulling him down beside you, you cup the chiseled line of his jaw, making him meet your gaze. “I happen to think you deserve the very best, Mr. Verstappen. And right now, the very best for both of us would be ...” Your voice cracks with fresh longing. “A damn Red Bull.”

Max’s eyes blaze with sudden determination, that iron willpower that has made him a champion coming to life. “Then that’s what I’ll get you. If those tossers at Red Bull Company won’t make a safe, caffeine-free version for pregnant women, I’ll personally make them regret it.”

You laugh shakily. “Max, you can’t just bully a corporation into creating a new product line for one person’s weird craving!”

“You’re not just one person,” he growls, tangling his fingers in your hair and bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You’re my everything. And our baby deserves for its mother to be happy and have her cravings satisfied.”

Pressing a fierce kiss to your lips, he adds, “I’m calling them right now. And then straight to the CEO, if I have to. I’ll get you that Red Bull if it’s the last thing I do.”

True to his word, the indomitable Max Verstappen spends the next several days working every possible connection and calling in every favor. You catch bits of conversations, his clipped tones making it clear just how serious he is about this bizarre quest.

“No, I don’t care if it’s not ‘cost-effective’. This is for my very pregnant wife ...”

“She’s risking her health to grow an entire person! The least your company can do is make a freaking caffeine-free energy drink ...”

The crew quickly learns not to open any Red Bull around you, lest they face the wrath of an overprotective Max. Which is slightly embarrassing … but also incredibly sweet.

Your hormones most definitely approve.

Finally, there’s a break in the stalemate. Helmut Marko himself shows up at the motor home, those bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows furrowed.

“Max, this is ridiculous. They will not reconfigure an entire product line just because Y/N is having a little … craving.”

You brace yourself for the explosion, but Max just levels Helmut with that intense stare. “If you could experience these cravings yourself, you would be singing a different tune. Y/N is sacrificing everything to have our baby. The least Red Bull can do is give her a safe option to have the flavor she misses so much.”

Helmut’s expression softens slightly at the obvious devotion in Max’s voice. “You know that corporate will never go for it. Not for just one person ...”

“Then make it for all the other pregnant women dealing with the same issues,” Max returns, unruffled. “Or is a company that plasters ‘Gives You Wings’ on every can really too cowardly to follow through on empowering people?”

You suck in a shocked breath at his daring play. But the flicker of anger and resigned capitulation in Helmut’s eyes shows that it worked.

“Fine, you little shit,” the older man growls. “I’ll talk to product development. But I’m not making any promises!”

Except somehow … Max’s sheer bullheaded tenacity eventually batters through all the corporate resistance and red tape. Three weeks later, an unmistakable bright blue can appears on the counter, the iconic Red Bull logo stamped across it.

“What’s this?” You ask in confusion.

Max slides an arm around your waist, beaming proudly. “Open it and see.”

You crack the seal, sniffing cautiously … and almost melt at the nostalgic, beloved scent of Red Bull. But just as you start to panic about caffeine, you notice the slightly different flavor.

“Max, is this ...”

He nods, grinning. “Zero caffeine but all the taste you’ve been craving. No more tears over those damn energy drink cans, okay?”

Throwing your arms around him, you yank his head down to capture his mouth in a grateful kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how incredible you are?”

“Once or twice,” he jokes, then sobers, cupping your belly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you and our baby happy.”

“You’re giving me everything I ever wanted and more.” You take a long pull of the perfectly flavored liquid, sighing in blissful satisfaction. “We hit the jackpot with you, Max Verstappen.”

He kisses you again, reveling in your obvious enjoyment. “The only jackpot I need is right here.”

***

Your baby bump has popped out to truly impressive proportions now at eight months along. What started as an innocent craving for Red Bull has escalated into an all-out physiological war.

Nothing seems to satisfy you for long — you’re a walking bundle of hormones and insatiable desires.

From the plush solitude of the Red Bull hospitality suite, you try not to gaze wistfully toward the Ferrari encampment. But you can’t resist fixating on the tantalizing cones of rich gelato constantly streaming from their hospitality tent.

Watching a couple of Ferrari mechanics stroll by, licking at scoops of pistachio and stracciatella, is enough to kickstart a powerful new yearning. Your mouth waters shamelessly as they pass, the creamy dessert leaving you weak in the knees. Before you can overthink it, you’re shuffling toward the entrance, one hand cradling your belly.

“Scusi,” you call out hesitantly as you peek inside. “Mi dispiace … is it possible to get some gelato?”

You half expect to be waved away — it’s well known that the Ferrari team is notoriously insular and protective of their spoils. But the cheerful greeting you receive is instantaneous and overwhelming.

“Madonna mia! Look at this beautiful piccina!”

Suddenly you’re engulfed by a whirlwind of chattering Italian voices, greeted by smiling faces from the team of elderly signoras who comprise the Ferrari hospitality staff. Weathered hands pat your belly and cheeks, clucking sympathetically at your swollen state.

“You poor bambina, absolutely enorme! Of course we’ll get you some gelato to refresh you. And biscotti too! You need to keep up your energy, si?”

You’re ushered toward a plush sofa, various grandmotherly types fussing over you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing. It’s … surprisingly wonderful. They clearly adore babies and pregnant women. You get the sense that indulging a mother-to-be is hardwired into their very beings.

A tray of gelato cups appears, the rainbow of flavors almost dazzling in their variety — chocolate, pistachio, prickly pear, lemon, stracciatella. Before you can reach for one, it’s plucked from your grasp.

“No no no! Leave it to Nonna Maria.” A stout signora with a green paisley dress and frosted silver curls shakes her head sternly. “I’ll start you with the lemon to whet your appetite. Then a nice creamy stracciatella as a proper treat for the bambino.”

The tangy flavor of the lemon gelato hits your craving exquisitely. As soon as you’ve polished off that cup, Nonna Maria presents another brimming with the creamy chocolate chip perfection of stracciatella. You moan in appreciation, unbothered by the chorus of approving noises from your doting new entourage.

Before you know it, you’ve been plied with cups of hazelnut, strawberry, and caramel flavors as well. These hospitable Italian ladies simply won’t be deterred from pampering a future mamma. As you scrape the last smears of gelato from a ramekin, a new grandmother settles on the sofa beside you.

“Now ... tell Nonna Gina what this little maschietto or bambina has been craving, eh?” She pats your belly affectionately. “We have chefs who can whip up anything your heart desires!”

Is it a pregnancy thing, this sudden wave of tears that blurs your vision? Or just being so insanely touched by the kindness and maternal care of these lovely strangers? You blink rapidly, swallowing hard.

“Honestly … gelato has been my biggest craving these past couple days. I don’t know if I can eat another bite.”

A chorus of disapproving gasps and tuts rises from the assembled grandmothers. “Bah! This pregnancy has ruined your appetite, piccina,” one crows, waving a hand dismissively. “We’ll soon get it back to rights, don’t you worry.”

For the next hour, you’re lavished with attention, fussed over and coddled like the most precious jewel. Cold drinks and chilled towels appear to keep you comfortable as the nonnas take turns sitting with you, petting your belly and swapping outrageous birth stories.

Their colorful Italian voices swell and ebb as they bicker over whose recipe for pasta al ragu is most authentic, who has the most grandchildren, and whose first-born grandson is most handsome.

It’s chaos and noise and overwhelming affection … and you’ve never felt so utterly content.

As the afternoon light slants golden through the awning, a familiar figure appears in the entrance, haloed by the fiery rays.

“Liefje? I’ve been looking everywhere ...” Max’s disbelieving gaze sweeps over the scene in front of him — you, surrounded by a veritable coven of grandmotherly Italians who seem entirely absorbed with you. “What in the world ...”

A chubby signora with a bright orange shawl wrapped around her ample form hops up, beaming widely. “Ahh! We have been absolutely spoiling your beautiful wife, of course. Did you know she had a craving for gelato? Well, no problem for us — we have taken her like one of our own bambinas!”

The others cluck and murmur in outraged agreement at his shocked expression.

“We absolutely will not let a piccina in such a state go hungry or uncomfortable! Now you sit down so we can get you a plate of some proper food too!”

Max gapes at you, utterly nonplussed as you grin back at him with unabashed glee, utterly stuffed with Italian desserts and reveling in the indulgent babying. You pat the space beside you invitingly.

“You’ve got to try Nonna Gina’s tiramisu, Maxie. It’ll knock your socks off.”

He settles beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and still looking rather dazed. But the instant the first warm smile and pat lands on his arm or knee, Max’s expression melts. This team of fussing Italian grandmothers has clearly adopted you both as their own.

Nonna Maria reappears, shoving a plate stacked with crispy arancini, indulgent risotto alla Milanese, and a creamy slice of tiramisu into your husband’s hands. “Eat up! You need to keep your strength up too, caring for this sweet cosa bella.” She plants bristly kisses on both your cheeks before scurrying off again.

Max watches her go, then turns to you with a bemused chuckle, squeezing you close. “Well, schatje. I have to hand it to you — at least your pregnancy cravings bring you to some … interesting places.”

You hum in agreement, perfectly content as you snuggle against his side. “Can you really think of a better place for me to nest?” You grin as another nonna appears to pat his cheek, welcoming him into the chaotic fold. “I think I may have just found my second family.”

He tilts your chin up, eyes sparkling with warmth. “Anything that makes you happy and keeps our baby healthy.”

As he kisses you tenderly, surrounded by clucking encouragement and rapturous croons of “bello, bellisimo” from your new Italian grandmothers, you know you’ve never felt so blissfully cherished.

You and Max make your way slowly back to the Red Bull motorhome, stuffed to the gills with gelato and trailed by a gaggle of besotted well-wishers calling out farewells and advice.

“I still can’t believe you managed to befriend the entirety of Ferrari hospitality,” Max laughs, helping ease you onto the couch in his driver’s room. He nudges your belly playfully. “This little one is shaping up to be quite the international charmer!”

“Says the man who single-handedly compelled Red Bull to create an entirely new product line,” you point out, patting your swollen middle contentedly. “I have a feeling this baby is going to be the most spoiled child on earth.”

Max settled beside you, gathering you close with a tender smile. “Can you blame all our people for wanting to give the world to you two?” His thumb traced your jawline reverently. “You’re carrying a little miracle, liefje.”

Your breath catches, as it so often did when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his entire universe. With so much pure adoration and love shining in those grey eyes.

“Our miracle,” you correct softly, cradling his calloused hand over your belly. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Not just supporting me … but giving me everything I could ever dream of.”

He opens his mouth like he wanted to protest, but you press on, needing him to understand how treasured he makes you feel.

“You don’t stop until I’m happy. Even when I get these raging, random cravings that probably seem crazy, you move heaven and earth to give me whatever I need. Most people would never ...”

“Neither of us is most people,” Max interrupts fiercely. He presses a searing kiss to your lips, then the swell of your abdomen. “You and our little one are my entire world. I’ll spend every day showing you how much I love you both, how grateful I am to have you in my life.”

Hormones raging, you pull his mouth back to yours, savoring the taste and feel of him surrounding you. When you finally part, you rest your forehead against his.

“In that case, you better rest up for tonight,” you tease. “I have a feeling that someone’s going to get a craving for sardines and waffles right around midnight.”

***

At nine months pregnant, you feel like a blissfully beached whale.

Your belly protrudes so massively that you can barely see your feet anymore. Simple tasks like tying your shoes or rolling over in bed have become awkward geometric obstacles. Max has to help you up from every chair or couch, his strong arms levering your frame into a vertical position.

Lingering in the paddock is no longer an option either. You’ve been gently but firmly ordered back home to Monaco to prepare for the baby’s arrival.

Thank goodness your nesting instincts are going full tilt — otherwise you might go stir crazy waiting for this little one to make their grand debut. You’ve rearranged and re-organized the nursery a dozen times, washed and rewashed all the tiny onesies and miniature accessories, and baked enough lactation cookies to feed an army of nursing mothers.

Really, there’s only one craving occupying your mind now …

The thump of shoes in the hall makes you look up eagerly. Max appears in the doorway of the sunlit nursery, loose waves of brown hair framing his face. The plain white tee stretches enticingly across his chest and shoulders, making your mouth water for an entirely different reason than food.

“Hey schatje,” he greets, eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes in your flushed cheeks. A knowing smirk tugs at one side of his mouth. “Were you just ... thinking about me?”

You shake your head adamantly, wincing as the motion makes your whole body ache in protest. “Maybe just a little. This particular craving is getting out of control.”

Crossing to you in two strides, Max cups your jaw and brings your lips crashing together in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps demanding and possessive into your mouth, making you whimper faintly. That intoxicating masculine scent of fresh sweat, motor oil, and sandalwood surrounds you in an alluring cloud.

After all these years, just the taste and smell of your husband is enough to drench you in molten wanting. Baby or no baby, Max Verstappen is still the sexiest goddamn thing on two legs.

“Mmm, I know exactly what you need,” he rumbles against your neck, nipping a tingling path along your sensitive skin. “Luckily for you, I’ve got a free schedule all afternoon to help take care of this craving ...”

He scoops you into his arms effortlessly, cradling your heavy weight against his chest to carry you to the bedroom. You twine your arms shamelessly around his neck, luxuriating in the hard strength of his body against yours.

“Aren’t you worried about ... squashing the baby?”

“Not at all,” he deposits you carefully on the bed. Those bright grey eyes darken with blazing lust. “I’m going to take such good care of you and our little one.”

His hands and mouth seem to be everywhere at once — caressing, nibbling, and stroking every sensitive inch he can lavish adoring attention on. You keen softly when he dips his tongue into your navel, rubbing reverent circles over the tight swell of your belly.

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Max murmurs, lips brushing the crease where your torso and bump meet. “So ripe and round and radiant with our child. My beautiful, strong girl ...”

All you can do is lie there gasping, overwhelmed in the best possible way. He strips you methodically, leaving a trail of scorching, openmouthed kisses over every newly exposed inch.

“My sexy little pregnant wife,” he husks, tongue dragging up the slick crease at the apex of your thighs. “Can’t resist this craving can you, liefje?”

His fingers plunge inside you, curling expertly as his mouth closes over your throbbing bud. You throw your head back shamelessly, mindless with pleasure as Max devours you.

So good, so unbearably good …

He ravishes you thoroughly, sending gushing waves of release crashing through your body over and over again until you’re gasping and quivering. Atoms of blissful satisfaction hum in your bloodstream as you float back into sweet oblivion.

An insistent nudge against your belly slowly rouses you. Max looms over you, hair deliciously rumpled and eyes glittering wickedly. “Did I satisfy that craving sufficiently? Or should I keep going?”

Your mouth curves in a greedy smile, hands gliding over his flexing shoulders and chest. “Again, please ...”

It had long since become a running gag around the paddock and team — before you were advised to stop flying. When you couldn’t be located, someone would joke that you must be off ravaging your utterly besotten husband yet again.

Max took the ribbing with surprising grace, grinning unrepentantly whenever his shirt collar revealed another blossom of lovebites discoloring the skin of his throat.

You really didn’t care about the teasing. You’re indulging an entirely healthy and normal craving — just a wife thoroughly appreciating her man.

“Can you believe people used to call this a punishment?” You giggle breathlessly one afternoon.

Max nips a stinging path along the soft skin of your inner thighs, tracing tantalizingly close to your heated center. He laves his tongue soothingly over the reddened marks, leering up at you from between your parted legs.

“Let them call it whatever they want. I’m just taking advantage of your hormones making you insatiable for me.”

“Mmm, well I can’t seem to resist your obscenely perfect body either,” you admit with a lazy stretch. “Maybe we really are being punished.”

One dark brow wings up eloquently as Max drags his eyes over you in a deliberately insolent perusal. Taking your leg in hand, he licks an achingly slow, filthy stripe up the crease where thigh meets hip.

You choke on a whimper, whole body jolting as he sucks a blossom of wet kisses into the satiny expanse of your inner thigh. Those bright grey eyes hold yours in wicked challenge as his clever tongue massages and swirls over your sensitized flesh.

“This certainly doesn’t seem like punishment to me,” he husks darkly. “Does it feel like punishment when I do this ...” His mouth moves higher. “Or this ...”

By the time he finishes torturing you into a quivering, needy wreck, you’re more than ready to beg.

“Please, Max!” You sob, bucking helplessly against the maddening sensations. “I need you, oh god I need you so bad ...”

He settles heavily over you, nuzzling your hair aside to trail searing kisses along your damp throat. “Then you shall have me. My needy wife can have whatever she craves ...”

It’s midway through one such shattering round of lovemaking that Max’s phone begins to ring shrilly. You try to disentangle, burning embarrassment tinting your cheeks, but he simply growls and clutches you tighter.

“Leave it!” He bites out, surging forward to recapture your mouth in a bruising clash of teeth and tongue between thrusts. “I’m busy ... satisfying … my wife ...”

After, as you lie tangled in a sweaty heap of satiation, you can’t resist asking with a wry smile, “Was that another craving I just demanded you satisfy?”

Max props himself up on one elbow, thumb stroking idly along your abdomen as his piercing gaze roams over your flushed, disheveled form.

“Whatever my wife needs,” he responds huskily. Those burning eyes promise infinite carnal delights to come as they caress your body. “I’ll always crave giving her everything she desires.”

He stretches beside you, a blissful smile curving his lips as you snuggle up against his side to exchange lazy kisses.

You’ve got a sneaking suspicion this is one craving that might outlast the pregnancy ...

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen #mv1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x y/n #red bull racing #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen drabble

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄 , 𝐙𝐆𝟐𝟒

summary , a fashion icon is drawn out of writing retirement by an equally iconic 8 time world champion which leads to love blossoming rather quickly

pairing , fashion editor! zhou guanyu x fem! f1 driver! reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | sol’s masterlist | f1 masterlist

vouge

liked by yourinstagram zhouguanyu24 199,370,936 others

vouge The wait is over: introducing zhouguanyu24 first return to writing in 6 years in this issue of Vogue. Through tabloid headlines, struggles of inequality and a drive to prove herself, the story of yourinstagram is a triumph, in the world of motorsports which the protagonist has flourished by winning 8 world drivers championships and has allowed herself to grow creatively and expand beyond the world of Formula One. As the F1 driver, singer, actor, fashion designer, creative, and philanthropist considers her next moves – a new album, movie and the hope of a 9th wdc among them – she tells Vogue’s new head of editorial content #zhouguanyu what living her truth means now in the April 2024 issue. Click the link in bio to read the interview, and see the story in full in the new issue, on news stands Tuesday 19 March.

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user very normal abt this. very.

user YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

user MOTHER ?????

user SLAYED THE HOUSE DOWN

user ate soooooo hard

user THIS ALBUM IS ABT TO BE 🔥🔥

user UHM DEVOURED???

user mhm. mhm. now that’s what i’m talking about.

user someone on twitter said thank god for ur parents, I too, say thank god for them.

user my mother everyone.

user fell to my fucking knees.

user this is my religion, amen. 🙏🏻

user what god do i have to pray to 🧎🏽‍♀️

user BRO.

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yourinstagram . 3hrs ago

seen by lewishamilton charles_leclerc 98,273,472 others

f1

liked by yourinstagram lewishamilton 78,398,479 others

f1 a fashion legend and a new wag has graced us for the weekend brining iconic fit's too

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user how did this guy get one chance miss Y/N

user 😩😩😩

user fell to my fucking knees.

user this is my religion, amen. 🙏🏻

user HOOOOOLYYYYYYYY

user the new wag is pulling out all the stops huh

user it couple in the paddock

user him and Y/N make such an iconic couple

user ate.

user slayed the house down boots

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#꒰꒰ ‧₊˚📁 ─ lola's works ˚₊· ꒱꒱ #zhou guanyu #zhou guanyu imagine #zhou guanyu imagines #zhou guanyu x reader #zhou guanyu x you #zhou guanyu x y/n #zhou guanyu fluff #zhou guanyu fanfiction #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 angst #formula 1 x you

[alovye]

Charles: Wait, did you just flirt with me?

Max: Have been for the past two year but thanks for noticing

Charles: (turns head to rest of the grid)

Daniel: nods head

Lando: nods

Lewis: nods

Pierre: nods

Yuki: nods

Bottas: nods

George: nods

Alex: nods

Fernando: nods

Oscar: nods

Ocon: nods

Zhou: nods

Checo: nods

Nico: nods

Kevin: nods

Logan: nods

Horner: nods

Toto: nods

Seb: Thought I raised you better than this Charles!

#charles leclerc #lestappen #max verstappen #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes

[lieslostinsilence]

i'm willing to be wrecked

Author's note: I am a first timer doing this haha. So for some time, I have been wanting to write imagines. I happened to write this one down. I shared it with a couple of close friends and they encouraged me to post it. It is very brief so I do apologise for that as I just want to test the waters out first. So this is really out of my comfort zone hahaha but I do welcome feedback or any thoughts!

Max Verstappen x fem! reader Reader is going through a break up with Carlos. Max is their best friend and helps them through it.

It has been a week since I ate or slept properly. Since Carlos and I broke each other’s heart. The pain seems to engulf me and I desperately need a release from it, from everything. I want to forget him even just for a brief moment. I know my friends are worried about me. Especially Max. He drops in everyday since he lives across from me. I don’t want anyone around but he doesn’t care. “I am your best friend so I’m not gonna let you be alone” After the first 2 days, I no longer protest his visits. I sit up on my bed and look towards the darkening sky. I get off my bed and walk towards my pool. I jump in and slowly let myself sink to the bottom. A peaceful solace blankets me and I sink further.

Suddenly I feel a movement in the water as the surface is broken. I open my eyes to see someone swimming towards me fast. The minute they grab my shoulders, I knew it was Max. Both of us came up for air and he was furious. “WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? WHAT IF YOU DROWNED??!!” he yelled wiping his face. “I just wanted to be free of my thoughts” I whispered. His face softens, “Please don’t do this especially when you are alone” he says softly. Looking at him, a thought creeps into my head. A very selfish thought. I swim away from him to the edge overlooking the Monaco skyline. I can feel him coming next to me. “Tell me what’s on your mind” he says. I can’t ever hide my feelings with Max. “For once Emi, I want to be selfish. To just think for myself.” I say without looking at him. I can sense him looking at me. “I am tired Emi. I haven’t slept in a long time and I just want to sleep. I want to forget everything and sleep. Tire myself out and sleep. I know I shouldn’t be asking this of you but you are the only one I would trust with all of myself at this moment.” I turn towards him. His face portrayed the emotions he was feeling: confusion led to him understanding of what I was asking. Then a pained look painted his face. Rejection..

Just like that, it really dawned on me what I was asking of my best friend and that felt like a cold shower. I moved away from him shaking my head, “I’m so sorry Max, I shouldn’t have asked you that! I don’t know what I was thinking..” I whispered ashamedly. I tried to move away further when he held my wrist. I did not have to courage to face him so there we stood, floating in my pool with my back facing him.

I heard him coming up close just an inch away from me, his chest touching my back. As I felt his hot breath on my neck, he moved my hair away from left side to my right side. “Do you know what you are asking of me, Y/n? Will you be able to handle what I’m gonna do to you once you say yes? How I gonna wreck you?” his breath soft but hot in my ears. His words made me shudder involuntarily. I took a break and answered him quietly. “Yes, I know Emi and yes, I can”. As soon as those words left my mouth, I heard him exhale. Then his lips closed over a spot on my neck while his hands wandered across my body. I leaned my head back and breathed a sigh.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv1 imagine #mv33 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one imagine #f1 fandom

[unformula1]

you’ll stay? (LS2 x OP81)

logan’s life is hard but he’s got oscar. w/c: 651 day 29 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium (series masterlist) masterlist

Logan has never felt more alone. He sits on his bed, the cold embrace of his blanket enveloping him. His tears slowly flow out, tracing his cheekbones, clinging onto his chin before falling onto the bed. His head is tucked between his two knees, soft sobs echo in his hotel room. 

He’s alone. 

A knock on his door forces Logan to sit up and wipe his tears off. As he walks toward the door, he checks the mirror, cleaning off any trace of him crying from his face. Logan takes a deep breath and puts on a smile.

He opens the door and comes face to face with Oscar.

“Hi Logs.” Oscar waves, he’s holding a bag.

“Hi Oscar.” Logan says after clearing out his throat, his voice comes out more hoarse than expected.

“I didn’t see you at the party. Alex was there!” Oscar says.

The party. Logan forgot if he got invited but he wasn’t planning on going anyway.

“I crashed.” Logan deadpans, “I’m not gonna go to a party.”

“Yea… my bad.” Oscar says before he lifts up the bag, “I brought some pastries, my grandmother made them. Thought you might be hungry.”

Logan stares blankly before taking the bag from Oscar, “Thank you.”

“Mind if I come in?” Oscar asks.

Logan looks back into his room and hesitates.

“I mean if you don’t want me to then I won’t…” Oscar’s voice trails off.

“Come in.” Logan says.

“Oh. Cool!” Oscar walks into the room and takes a seat on one of the chairs.

Logan closes the door and places the bag on the table before sitting down opposite Oscar on the edge of the bed.

“How have you been?” Oscar asks, then instantly regrets it, “Sorry, stupid question.”

“It’s okay.” Logan says, he doesn’t exactly want to converse right now, he sort of just wants to cry.

“So… life’s rough?” Oscar says, “Sorry. Stupid again, I’m not very good at this whole… conversing thing.” 

“It’s fine.” Logan says.

“Do you want me to help you with… anything? You could talk to me right now.” Oscar says.

Logan sighs, “I just need to cry right now.” He says before flopping back first onto his bed.

“Oh… are you okay if I stay?” 

Logan nods, not sure if Oscar could see but Oscar stayed where he was, so Logan assumed he saw the nod.

“If you want me to leave anytime just tell me.” Oscar says before sitting next to where Logan was lying down.

Logan usually would never cry in the presence of someone else, he had a facade to keep up. However, right now, Logan couldn’t care less.

When he crashed, the only faces he saw were disappointed ones. They only got more disappointed in him when Alex scored points. All of them shot Logan with wary eyes. Alex was disappointed in him. James was disappointed in him. All of them were.

He tried his best, he really did everything he could to get better but nothing paid off. His dreams were like flashing before his very eyes.

Logan stares into the ceiling.

“Are you disappointed in me?” Logan asks.

Oscar shakes his head, “No. I would never be.”

Logan lets out a soft scoff, “Sure…”

“Hey! I would never be disappointed in you.” Oscar says, patting Logan’s thigh, “I’m always proud of you.”

“I literally crashed today.” Logan says.

“Everyone makes mistakes.” Oscar shrugs.

“Clearly I make more than others.” Logan scoffs, mostly at himself.

“Well, I believe in you then, I believe that you’ll get better.” Oscar says.

Logan lets out another scoff disguised as a chuckle.

“Yea…right…” Logan says, as he feels his tears slowly filling his eyes.

“Shut up mate.” Oscar says, “You’re an amazing driver, you will get better.”

Logan smiles slightly but the tears continue to flow.

“I’ll stay with you, every step of the way. Okay.”

“Promise you’ll stay?”

“Promise.”

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #logan sargeant #not beta read #oscar piastri #osc #mclaren #mclaren racing #mclaren f1 #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren formula one #williams racing #williams f1 #williams formula 1 #op81 #ls2 #ls2 x op81 #lando norris #hurt/comfort #comfort #loscar fluff #f1 fluff #fluff #loscar fics #loscar

[oscar-pasta-tree]

Strolling around London, turned around, saw an Aston Martin, started yapping to my friends lol

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #aston martin #f1 girls #lance stroll #I was strolling you got it

[red-prince]

THE FACE OF A GOOD BOY

THE FURY OF A WILD HORSE

#Austria 2022 you’ll forever be missed by me #also go read new article with charles for italian vogue! #f1 #formula 1 #f1blr #formula one #f1 fandom #charles leclerc #f1 love #scuderia ferrari #leclerc #italian vogue #austrian gp 2022

[sillyissiecativities]

Your honour, the spaniards

Baby Carlos meeting the goat

PAPA ALONSO AND SON CARLOS

#formula 1 #f1 racing #fernando alonso #carlos sainz #f1 fandom #ferrari #son and father

[the-chaotic-snek]

#formula one #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 2024 #f1blr #24 season #f1 2024 season #redbull #redbull racing #red bull f1 #red bull team #max #max verstappen #sergio #sergio perez #max verstappen redbull #sergio checo perez #scuderia ferrari #ferrari #charles leclerc #leclerc #charles #carlos #carlos sainz #carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz junior #charles leclerc f1

[elia-the-bibliophile]

Sad, Beautiful, Tragic [Part 2] (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)

Genre: Angst to Fluff Word count: 4,8k

Part 1

Taglist: @dr4g0ngirl @openthenyoor01 @iambored24601 @bakutos-babyowl @lovelylunas-world @xoscar03 @runs-with-sciss0rs @leah-preller @amberpanda99

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as reporters, armed with cameras and notepads, crowded into the media briefing room. Christian Horner, stood at a podium, flanked by members of his team. Behind him, a large screen displayed images of Max Verstappen in action, a reminder of the racer's nonappearance.

Christian Horner's voice cut through the murmurs, commanding attention. "Good morning, everyone. Thank you for gathering at such short notice. As you're aware, there has been an unforeseen development during the Qatar Grand Prix involving our driver, Max Verstappen. We will be taking questions now.”

The room erupted with a cacophony of raised hands and shouted questions, each journalist vying for a chance to glean insight into the mysterious disappearance.

A reporter near the front row seized the opportunity. "Mr. Horner, can you offer any clarity on Max Verstappen's abrupt departure from the Grand Prix?"

Christian Horner's gaze remained steady as he replied, "Max is currently tending to a personal matter that demands his immediate attention. As a team, we stand united in support of him and ask for your understanding during this challenging time."

Another reporter, leaning forward eagerly, interjected, "Is there an estimate on when we can expect Max to return to the track?"

"We are closely monitoring the situation," Christian Horner responded, his tone measured. "Once Max has resolved his personal affairs, we anticipate his swift return. However, I'm unable to provide a definitive timeline at this juncture."

A third reporter, his brow furrowed with concern, pressed, "How is the team coping in Max's absence?"

"Our team is nothing short of exceptional," Christian Horner affirmed, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "While Max is an integral part of our success, we possess the resilience and talent to persevere. Each member of Red Bull Racing is committed to supporting Max during this period and ensuring his seamless return to the track."

With the last question lingering in the air, Christian Horner nodded, signaling the conclusion of the briefing. The reporters, though laden with unanswered queries, began to disperse, their pens scribbling furiously as they mulled over the scant details provided.

__________________________________________

Outside, the asphalt shimmered under the Qatari sun as reporters swarmed around Checo. His Red Bull Racing cap shaded his eyes, but his grin was unmistakable, radiating warmth despite the probing questions.

Surrounded by a sea of eager journalists, Checo leaned casually against a nearby railing, his demeanor relaxed and approachable.

“Checo, can you provide any insight into Max Verstappen's sudden departure from the Grand Prix?” A reporter inquired, raising her mic in his direction.

Checo's chuckle was infectious as he adjusted his cap, "Ah, you know Max, always one for the dramatic exits. Probably off chasing down some kebabs while we were still on the track!"

Laughter rippled through the crowd as Checo's playful remark broke the tension.

“Checo if I may, How is the team coping with Max's absence?” Another reporter voiced.

Checo's expression turned more earnest as he replied, "Of course, we miss having Max on the track with us, but we're all behind him, whatever he's dealing with. As for me, well, I'm just trying to keep up with his disappearing acts!"

His jovial tone resonated with the reporters, eliciting chuckles and nods of agreement.

“Just one more question, Checo. Do you have a message for Max?”

Checo's grin softened, a touch of sincerity underlying his humor. "Just a simple message: hurry back, Max. We've got some racing to do!"

With a final wave to the reporters, Checo strolled leisurely back towards the Red Bull Racing garage, leaving behind a trail of laughter and goodwill amidst the uncertainty.

__________________________________________

Checo was finally looking forward to some peace and quiet after dealing with all the heat and bad press, but instead his gaze settled on Kelly Piquet, who stood with arms crossed, her expression tight with frustration.

Kelly's eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Checo approaching, her defensive stance unmistakable. “Why did no one bother to keep me on the loop about Max's disappearance? I had to find out from the media like everyone else!”

Checo's jaw clenched momentarily, but he maintained his composed demeanor as he stopped a few paces away from her. “Look, Kelly, I'm not here to argue. But maybe it's time to consider giving Max some space.”

Kelly's frustration bubbled over, her voice rising in agitation. “Space? Please. If anyone knows what Max needs, it's me. I've been there for him more times than I can count.”

Checo sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “You've been relentless in your pursuit of creating gossip about Max. Always trailing him, staging paparazzi shots—what do you expect him to do? You’re trying to insert yourself where you don't belong.”

His words seem to trigger Kelly even more. Making her stance stiffened, her defenses rising. “And what's wrong with that? I care about Max. I know him better than anyone, certainly better than that... that nobody.”

Checo can feel his patience wore thin, his tone edged with exasperation. “Look Kelly, this isn't about who knows Max better. It's about respecting his boundaries and his decisions. Right now, he's trying to salvage his relationship with Y/N, and the last thing he needs is you intervening.”

Kelly's lips curled into a scornful smirk, her confidence unshakeable, a defiant tilt to her chin. “Please. Y/N is nothing compared to me. If Max can't see that, then maybe he doesn't deserve someone like me.”

Checo sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are fucking delusional.”

With another frustrated exhale, Checo turned away, leaving Kelly to stew in her unwavering conviction, her belief in her own superiority.

He can clearly sees that for Kelly it’s about the optics. Not because she genuinely cares for Max. She just wants to have the World’s Champion as her arm candy.

__________________________________________

The streets of Jamestown buzzed with life as Y/N navigated her way through the charming neighborhood. As she rounded the corner, the scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, drawing her towards a cozy bakery nestled amidst a row of charming storefronts. The sign above the door read "Village Hearth Bakery” and a warm glow emanated from within.

Stepping inside, Y/N was greeted by the comforting aroma of butter and sugar, mingling with the soft hum of conversation. Behind the counter stood a friendly face, adorned in a flour-dusted apron, busy attending to a tray of delectable pastries. The baker looked up from her work, her eyes crinkling in a smile. “Well, good morning to you, dear! What can I get for you today?

Y/N's gaze swept over the array of treats on display, her mouth watering at the sight. “Hmm, I think I'll have one of those danish pastry, please. They smell absolutely divine.

The baker's laughter rang out melodiously as she selected a freshly baked ones from the display case. “Excellent choice! Coming right up.”

As the baker wrapped up her order, she looks back up at her. “You're new around here, aren't you?”

Y/N nodded, a hint of hesitation in her voice. “Yes.. I just moved here recently. Still getting adjusted to everything.”

The baker's smile softened with understanding. “Well, you've come to the right place. This place is like a second home to many in this town. My name's Hilda, by the way.”

Y/N returned the smile, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging wash over her. “It's nice to meet you, Hilda. I'm Y/N.”

As Hilda handed over the pastries, a sense of gratitude filled Y/N's heart. In this bustling little bakery, amidst the aroma of freshly baked goods and the friendly chatter of the locals, she felt a glimmer of hope for the future.

As she stepped back out into the sunlight, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the newfound sense of peace and anonymity that Rhode Island offered her. Here, she could embrace a simpler life, free from the scrutiny and drama that had plagued her in Monaco.

Maybe that life really isn’t for her.

__________________________________________

Max Verstappen stepped off the plane, the weight of the world seemingly lifted from his shoulders as he breathed in the crisp air. The airport faded into the background as he took in the serene surroundings, the tranquil beauty of the coastal town unfolding before him.

The gentle breeze carried the faint scent of saltwater, a soothing reminder of the nearby ocean. Max couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over him, a stark contrast to the frantic pace of life on the racing circuit.

As he made his way, Max's thoughts drifted to Y/N, the woman he had traveled halfway across the world to find. He couldn't shake the feeling of regret that gnawed at him, knowing that he had let her slip through his fingers.

But as he took in the picturesque scenery, Max began to understand why Y/N had chosen this place. The quiet beauty of the town, the sense of peace that permeated the air—it was the perfect escape from the chaos of their former lives.

His steps faltered as a wave of doubt washed over him, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Was he being selfish? Was he imposing his own desires onto Y/N without considering the pressure she had endured? He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that by pursuing Y/N, he might be dragging her back into a world of peer pressure and stress, a world she had sought refuge from.

But Max couldn't deny the undeniable connection they had shared, the bond that had transcended the chaos of their respective lives. Was it selfish to want that back? To want Y/N by his side, despite the challenges they might face? Or was it simply the desperate yearning of a heart unwilling to let go of what it held most dear?

With a heavy sigh, Max continued on his path, the weight of his decisions bearing down on him with each passing moment. He knew that he had to tread carefully, to approach Y/N with humility, to respect her right to choose.

All he is sure of right now is that he will regret it forever if he didn’t try to win her back.

__________________________________________

The soft glow of the hotel room's lamp cast a warm hue across the elegant furnishings as Max settled into his seat, his mind swirling with thoughts of Y/N. He glanced at his phone, the screen illuminating his determined expression as he scrolled through his contacts, landing on Lando Norris's name.

With a deep breath, he pressed the call button, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for Lando to pick up. After a few rings, Lando's voice crackled through the line, sounding surprised.

"Max? What's up, mate? I didn't expect to hear from you."

Max's voice was urgent, a hint of frustration seeping through. "Lando, I need your help. I... I need to find Y/N."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside. "Y/N? What happened?" Lando's tone was laced with concern.

Max ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. "We... we had a fight, and she left. I don't know where she is, and I need to find her."

Lando let out a whistle. "Damn, mate. I had no idea. Horner doesn't exactly share details about your whereabouts with us during the press conferences."

Max's eye twitched. "I don't care about that right now, Lando. I just need to find her. Please, do you have any idea where she might be? I know that she often talks to you.”

Lando's voice softened. "I'm sorry, Max. I wish I could help. Have you tried reaching out to her friends?"

“Yeah I did, but no one would say anything. Not that I blame them." He said.

Lando's voice was reassuring. "Okay, don't worry. We'll figure this out. I'll make some calls, see if I can track down any leads. Just hang in there, mate."

Max let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, grateful for Lando's support. "Thanks, Lando. I appreciate it. I owe you one.”

As the call with Lando ended, Max's heart sank further. He stared at his phone, the screen lighting up with a cascade of notifications.

Among them, a message from Kelly stood out like a sore thumb, her words dripping with annoyance and impatience. With a sigh, Max reluctantly opened the message, his anger mounting as he read Kelly's demanding inquiry about his recent behavior.

"Why are you ghosting everyone, Max? This isn't like you at all. You need to explain yourself ASAP."

Max's jaw clenched at the tone of entitlement in Kelly's message, her words grating on his nerves like sandpaper. He resisted the urge to fire back a scathing reply, knowing it would only escalate the situation further.

Instead, with a resigned shake of his head, Max deleted the message without a second thought. He didn't have the time or patience to entertain Kelly's demands, not when he had more pressing matters at hand.

Max continued to scroll through his notifications, ignoring the flurry of messages and calls from well-meaning friends and curious acquaintances alike.

With fists balled at his sides, Max stormed over to the balcony, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the night. He swung open the glass door with a forceful shove, the cool air hitting him like a slap in the face.

Max reached into his pocket and retrieved a pack of cigarettes, the box a comforting presence in his palm. Flicking open the lighter, Max brought the flame to the tip of the cigarette and took a long, deep drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs and momentarily soothe the storm raging within him. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, the tendrils of smoke swirling around him like a protective cloak.

In that moment of solitude, Max found a fleeting sense of peace. The anger and frustration still simmered beneath the surface, but for now, he allowed himself a brief respite from the relentless demands of the world outside.

Leaning against the balcony railing, Max stared out into the sea. Never before he ever thought of how beautiful it is. He took another drag.

__________________________________________

As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Max stirred from a fitful sleep, his head pounding with the remnants of a restless night. The faint smell of cigarettes hung in the air, mingling with the stale aroma of cheap beer that clung to his clothes and skin.

Groaning softly, Max dragged himself out of bed, his limbs heavy with exhaustion as he stumbled towards the bathroom. The harsh glare of the morning sun seeped through the cracks in the blinds, stabbing at his bleary eyes like shards of glass.

Turning on the faucet, Max splashed cold water onto his face, the icy shock jolting him awake as he scrubbed away the remnants of last night's despair. But no amount of water could wash away the lingering sense of unease that gnawed at his insides.

With a sigh, Max dragged himself back into the bedroom. He had never felt this awful before, both physically and emotionally drained from the turmoil of his own making.

Max's heart pace with anticipation as he checked his phone, hoping for a glimmer of hope in the form of a message from Lando.

Max opened the message, his eyes scanning the screen for any sign of a breakthrough. And there it was—an address. Lando had come through for him, managing to wrangle the information out of Alex Albon, who had heard it from his girlfriend Lily.

“Alex was pretty adamant about not messing this up again. He says he’ll slash your tires if you do.”

He couldn't afford to screw this up anyway, not when he had been given a lifeline. He sent him a quick text back.

“Got it, he can definitely do that. Say my thanks.”

__________________________________________

Y/N flowed through her morning yoga, as she faced the expanse of the sea stretching out before her. The warmth of the sun kissed her skin, infusing her with a sense of tranquility that enveloped her like a comforting embrace.

As she moved through her Sun Salutations, a stray kitten caught her eye as it wandered along the sandy shore below. A pang of longing tugged at her heartstrings, reminding her yet again of Jimmy and Sassy.

Lost in reverie, Y/N was just about to complete her final pose when the unexpected sound of the doorbell ringing shattered the moment. Frowning slightly, she paused mid-stretch, her brow raising in confusion.

It was an odd occurrence; she hadn't been expecting any visitors. Though she had befriended her neighbors, it hadn't extended to impromptu visits, at least not yet.

Resigned, Y/N rose to her feet, the wooden planks of her patio cool beneath her bare feet as she made her way towards the front door.

With a deep breath, Y/N steadied herself and pulled open the door, her gaze falling upon the unexpected visitor who stood before her, shrouded in the morning light.

Max stood on the threshold, a bouquet of peonies clutched tightly in his trembling hands. His eyes were still puffy and the faint scent of cigarettes lingered on his fingertips, a stark contrast to the fragrant blooms he held.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Y/N stood frozen in the doorway, her heart pounding in her chest as she processed the sight before her. The air crackled with tension, hanging heavy between them like a thick fog.

As their eyes met, Max's mouth fell open, his attempts to find words lost in the sea of emotions that roiled within him. He had rehearsed countless apologies in his mind, but now, faced with the reality of the moment, his tongue felt heavy and sluggish, incapable of forming coherent sentences.

Y/N's gaze bore into him, a mixture of surprise, confusion, and perhaps a hint of longing flickering in the depths of her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words emerged, the awkward silence stretching between them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Max found his voice, though it emerged as little more than a hoarse whisper. "Y/N," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "I... I'm so sorry. I know I messed up, and I don't expect you to forgive me right away. But please, just hear me out."

His words hung in the air. As he stood, vulnerable and exposed, Max prayed silently to whoever’s listening for this to go right.

Y/N shifted on her feet, her body tensing as she balanced an invisible weight of emotions. A sarcastic chuckle escaped her lips as she took in Max's disheveled appearance, the sight of him clutching the bouquet of peonies contrasting sharply with the tiredness etched into his features.

"You look awful," she remarked dryly, unable to suppress the hint of amusement in her voice. But beneath the sarcasm, there was a flicker of concern as she noticed him shivering, dressed only in a thin cotton t-shirt despite the chill in the air.

Without another word, Y/N stepped aside, her heart softening at the sight of Max. She welcomed him into the warmth of her home, a pang of fear gripping her as she worried he might catch a flu from his inadequate attire.

As Max hesitantly crossed the threshold, Y/N couldn't help but notice the faint scent of cigarettes still clinging to him. With a furrowed brow, she couldn't resist asking, "Have you been smoking?"

Max's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he nodded sheepishly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Yeah," he admitted quietly, the weight of his confession heavy on his shoulders. "It... it helps with the stress, I guess."

Y/N's expression softened at his admission, her heart aching with empathy. With a gentle hand on his arm, she offered a small smile, her voice soft with understanding. "Well, you're here now. Might as well come in.”

"Would you like some coffee or tea? I saw you shivering out there so don’t bother saying no.” she asked gently, her eyes soft with concern.

Max's lips quirked into a grateful smile at the offer. "A cup of black coffee would be nice, if it isn't too much trouble," he replied.

As Y/N busied herself in the kitchen, Max took in the surroundings of her home. His gaze swept over the framed pictures adorning the walls, his heart swelling at the sight of familiar faces and cherished memories.

Among them, he spotted several photos of them together. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of their intertwined hands and shared smiles. But it was the pictures of Jimmy and Sassy, their beloved cats, that truly touched his heart. Their playful antics captured perfectly.

As Y/N returned with a steaming mug of black coffee, Max's gaze lingered on the pictures, his heart heavy with longing. But amidst the pain, there was a glimmer of hope, a silent promise to do whatever it took to rebuild what they had lost.

Taking the coffee with a grateful nod, Max settled into a chair, the warmth of the mug seeping into his cold hands.

Max took a tentative sip of the coffee, steeling himself for the onslaught of anger and resentment he had anticipated from Y/N.

He glanced up, his brow furrowing in confusion, as Y/N just gazed softly at him. "I was half expecting you to start screaming and cursing me out the moment we stepped inside," he admitted, his voice filled with disbelief.

Y/N's laughter filled the air, a sound that washed over him like a soothing balm. "Well, that's certainly what would have happened if you had shown up a week earlier," she confessed, her tone light despite the weight of their situation. "But I've had some time to settle, to process my own emotions."

Max's eyes widened in surprise at her unexpected response, a sense of relief flooding through him. He had braced himself for the worst, prepared to face the full force of her wrath. But her calm demeanor and genuine laughter caught him off guard, melting away the tension that had gripped him since their reunion.

“You on the other hand certainly know how to cause a scene," she remarked, referring to his sudden departure from the Qatar Grand Prix.

Max's smile faltered at her words, a bitter edge creeping into his tone as he responded. "Yeah, I guess I do," he admitted bitterly, his gaze darkening with frustration. "But you know what's ironic? Only a few people genuinely care about my wellbeing. The rest are just worried about the money they would lose."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, the truth of his statement casting a shadow over their conversation. Max knew all too well the cutthroat nature of the racing world, where loyalty and friendship often took a backseat to financial interests and hidden agendas.

Y/N's expression softened with empathy as she reached out to squeeze his hand in silent support. She may not have fully understood the intricacies of Max's world, but she could sense the burden he carried, the weight of expectations and obligations pressing down on him from all sides.

With a sigh, Max shook his head, the frustration and disillusionment evident in his weary expression. "But none of that matters now," he continued. "All I want is to make things right with you."

Max felt the dam holding back his tears finally begin to crack. A lone tear escaped his eye, tracing a silent path down his cheek. With a choked sob, Max's resolve crumbled, his shoulders shaking with the force of his pent-up anger and desperation. He buried his face in his hands, the weight of his regrets and self-recrimination bearing down on him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm so, so sorry for everything. For all the words that have ever come out of my mouth, for not controlling my anger better, for expecting you to make all the sacrifices for me."

Stripped bare of the bravado and arrogance that had once defined him. Max's heart felt like it was being torn apart, his chest constricted with the weight of his remorse.

Y/N's heart ached, her own eyes brimming with tears as she reached out to comfort him. She enveloped him in a warm embrace, holding him close as he trembled with the force of his emotions.

"It's okay, Max," she whispered soothingly, her hand stroking his back. "I am sorry too, we both made mistakes. We were both unfair to each other." She planted a soft kiss to his head. “I am sorry for not trying harder to be at your races.”

As Max clung to her, his words tumbling out in a torrent of desperation and pleading, he begged repeatedly for Y/N to come back to him, to come home.

"I'll do anything, Y/N," he pleaded, his voice almost unrecognizable. "I'll stop racing if that's what it takes. I'll give it all up. Just please, don’t leave again."

Y/N's eyes widened in shock at his declaration. She gently cupped his face in her hands. "Darling, no," she whispered. "I would never ask that of you. Racing is your passion, your purpose—it's like taking away half of you."

"I want you to be happy, Max," she continued softly. "And if that means racing, then I'll support you every step of the way. But we need to find a way to make this work together."

Max buried his face in her shoulder again, clinging to her as if she’s going to run away if he doesn’t.

"Thank you, schatje," he voice slightly muffled. "I don't know what I would do without you. I promise I won’t act like an idiot again.”

As Y/N's lips met his, Max's initial surprise gave way to a rush of warmth and longing. It wasn't just a kiss; it was as if someone gave him oxygen after he breathed in smoke. He clung to her, his hands trembling as they sought her warmth, her touch, anything to erase the distance that had grown between them.

Feeling her this close to him, Max couldn't help but respond, his own hands moving to trace the curves of her body, memorizing every contour as if afraid she might disappear again. With each caress, he could feel the tension of their troubles melting away, replaced by a sense of longing and connection that he had sorely missed. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent as if trying to imprint it on his soul. "Y/N," he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. "Gods, I missed you so much."

His words were more than a confession; they were a plea, a desperate cry for forgiveness and understanding. Max knew he had made mistakes, said things he regretted in the heat of the moment. It wasn't just the physical presence of Y/N that he had missed, but the feeling of being truly understood, of having someone by his side who knew him in a way that no one else did.

__________________________________________

Max dialed Lando’s number the next day. After a few rings, he picked up. "Hey, Max, how's the search for Y/N going?" he inquired, the sounds of activity audible in the background. "As per requested, I’m in your apartment right now, checking on your kids."

Max let out a sigh of relief before replying, "Thanks, Lan. Everything's under control now. Y/N and I are going to head back to Monaco in a few days."

Y/N, who was standing beside Max, motioned for him to put the phone on speaker. "I want to talk to the cats," she insisted.

As Max activated the speaker, Y/N's voice filled the room, echoing off the walls. "Hey, Jimmy! Hey, Sassy!" she cooed, her tone gentle yet eager.

The cats, as if recognizing her voice, perked up and began meowing excitedly, their tails swishing back and forth in anticipation. They pawed at Lando’s phone, their curiosity piqued by the familiar sound.

Lando's voice crackled with panic through the phone. "Uh, Max, the cats are going feral!" he exclaimed, the urgency in his tone evident.

Max chuckled softly, reassured by the commotion in the background. "Don't worry, Lando. They're just excited to hear their mum’s voice again," he explained, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Max watched Y/N's animated expression as she continues talking to the cats. "Why do you look like you missed them more than me?" he quipped, his tone teasing yet there is a hint of accusation.

Y/N paused, her gaze meeting Max's, before shrugging nonchalantly. "Maybe I do," she admitted with a mischievous smile, her voice laced with playful defiance.

Max couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Fair enough," he conceded, a grin spreading across his face.

#f1 blurb #f1 #f1 drabble #f1 fic rec #f1 fandom #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #reader insert

[norrisleclercf1]

Yeah I need him 😫

#jenson button #jb22 #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #need him in a way thats sinful #like fuck its criminal how rent free he lives in my head

[pucksandpower]

PowerPointless

Part I

Formula 1 x Russell!Reader

Summary: you decide to throw your brother a birthday party based on the thing he loves most in the world: PowerPoint

Note: a huge thank you to @struggling-with-drivers because this would not have been possible without her help

#1 - Max Verstappen

#2 - Logan Sargeant

#3 - Daniel Ricciardo

#4 - Lando Norris

#10 - Pierre Gasly

#11 - Sergio Perez

#14 - Fernando Alonso

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen x reader #logan sargeant x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #lando norris x reader #pierre gasly x reader #sergio perez x reader #fernando alonso x reader #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #max verstappen imagine #logan sargeant imagine #daniel ricciardo imagine #lando norris imagine #pierre gasly imagine #fernando alonso imagine #f1 x female reader #george russell imagine

[alovye]

CONTEXT: TRUTH OR DARE featuring LANDO

Lando: Charles, I dare you to call Max and tell him that you want your teeth in his neck!😝

Charles: WTF he will hang up on me😭

Lando: It's a dare!

Charles: *dialling Max*

Max: What's up Charlie?

Charles: Max, um, I wanted to say that I just want my teeth in your neck

Max: ...........

Charles: *whispering to Lando* I told you, now he won't talk to me for the rest of the weekend

Max: like violently or sexually

Charles: um, what?

Max: Because if it's sexually I'm up for it Charlie!

When do you want to meet up?

Charles: ...8:30PM?

Max: Sure meet you at your place. GP is calling for me now. Bye!

Charles: *turning his head towards Lando* What just happened?

Lando: You're going to get some D tonight, thats what just happened

#charles leclerc #lestappen #max verstappen #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes

[hemmingsleclerc]

War ┃ Charles Leclerc

Social Media AU

Pairing: charlesleclerc x fem!reader

Summary:Where Charles and his girlfriend tend to post embarrassing photos of each other

ynln

Liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 2,385,394 others

ynln Get yourself a man who can play football so well that people can't stand his talent😌💕

username GIRL I CAN'T I LOVE YOU

charles_leclerc ma chérie YOU DID NOT JUST DO THAT

pierregasly No way 🤣🤣

maxverstappen that's why I like you better than charles

charles_leclerc get out of my gf's comment section

ynln

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 2,536,487 others

ynln He can also surf 🙌❤️

charles_leclerc That was my first try it's not fair 😩

ynln you're the best my love

landonorris I love this

username these pics are amazing

ynln I know, I took them🤭

charles_leclerc

Liked by ynln, carlossainz55, and 3,583,384 others

charles_leclerc I'm so in love

username not u exposing your gf too 😭

arthur_leclerc omg charles🤣

ynln OMG WHEN DID YOU TAKE THOSE

username THIS IS SO FUNNY

charles_leclerc

Liked by alex_albon, ynln and 4,592,926 others

charles_leclerc She's just one of a kind❤️

username Why was she wearing that dress?

charles_leclerc she wanted to dress up, don't ask me why tho

ynln you dressed up too liar!

username that's my fav wag

ynln the third one is just a perfect description of me as a human

pierregasly

Liked by ynln, charles_leclerc and 4,189,469 others

tagged: ynln and charles_leclerc

pierregasly they love each other even if it doesn't look like it

username these are CUTE AS HELL

username oh to have what these two have

charles_leclerc of course I love mon amour❤️❤️

ynln I love you too baby💗

#f1 fanfic #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc social media au #f1 fluff #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fandom #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 smut #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 angst #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fluff #formula one #formula one x you