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lestappenforever · 10 months

Note

For the print: 41. “Is that my shirt?” “Is… is that okay?”

Lestappen sharing clothes is one of my favourite things 😍

I was hoping for this one! Thank you. 🥰

Also, throwing in a bonus 50. "Kiss me like you mean it." "With pleasure." for you.

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41. “Is that my shirt?” “Is… is that okay?” and 50. "Kiss me like you mean it." "With pleasure."

Look, it wasn't as if Max had planned this, okay? Any of it. It just happened.

He'd been on one of his typical late night grocery shopping runs, because he could not for the life of him plan to do it at a more reasonable time of day, or when the store wasn't 10 minutes from closing.

He'd also decided to walk to the store because he'd had a couple of beers and he wasn't about to risk his livelihood for a five minute drive.

The cashier — a woman in her fifties named Stella, who has checked Max out numerous times in the past and has long since stopped caring about him being a Formula 1 World Champion and his attempts at being charming — rolls her eyes dramatically at him as he apologizes for once again being there last minute.

"Every time you say this, and every time you come in at this time, Max," she tells him, not at all amused.

(If he's being perfectly honest, Max doesn't think she's been amused once in her life.)

The disappointment in her eyes could rival that of his mother whenever Max had done something she didn't like growing up, which is unsettling. It makes Max feel like a little kid waiting for a scolding.

Completing his purchase, Max apologizes profusely once more to Stella on his way out.

As he exits the store, somebody practically barrels into him from the side.

"Shit," Max mutters, regaining his footing and turning to face the stranger who apparently has no disregard for anyone's safety or well-being, anger already building in his chest.

But the stranger turns out to be none other than Charles Leclerc, apparently out on a late-night run if his sweaty forehead and running attire is anything to go by.

And, well, Max's anger drains from him as quickly as it had appeared, because there is no way in hell he can stay angry at Charles.

Especially not a sweaty Charles, which is a sight that's doing all sorts of things to Max's mind and body.

"Merde, désolé," Charles tells him, taking a step back and finally looking up at Max's face. "Max?"

Max doesn't really think that question warrants an answer, given how Charles is clearly not blind.

"I'm sorry," he repeats in English, and his cheeks redden even further, which Max assumes isn't from the physical exertion of running.

"It's fine," Max says, waving the hand that isn't holding the grocery bag dismissively.

Charles glances at the bag in his hand, at the watch on his wrist, then at the large sign on the store front behind Max announcing their opening hours, raising an eyebrow.

"The employees must love you," he says teasingly, a small smirk on his face.

Max rolls his eyes at him.

"Yeah, they all light up with glee when I come in," Max replies, voice dripping with sarcasm.

It draws a laugh from Charles, which is a beautiful sound. Max kind of wishes he could bottle it.

Suddenly, there's a flash in the sky followed by a loud crack of thunder, making Charles jump and Max look up to see ominously dark clouds having gathered in the sky.

And then the clouds unleash hell — or ridiculously heavy rain — on Monaco.

"Fuck!" Charles hisses, and Max doesn't need to ask why because he knows Charles lives on the other side of town and that he was nowhere near being done with his run.

Before he can think better of it, Max grabs Charles' hand.

"Come on," he says, not giving Charles the chance to argue or question as he tugs the Monégasque right along with him as he sets off running in the direction of his own home.

Charles goes willingly.

---

By the time they make it into Max's apartment, they're both soaked to the core, and Charles' grey t-shirt is clinging to his body like a second layer of skin.

It's making Max want to do all sorts of unseemly things to him, so he promptly looks away.

"You can use the shower in the master bathroom. There's a pretty efficient drying rack in there," Max tells him, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his bedroom.

Charles has been to his place before and even if he doesn't remember the entire layout of the apartment, Max has a feeling he'll figure it out.

"Thanks," Charles tells him, apparently not needing to be told twice as he disappears down the hall.

Max, for his part, goes to the guest bathroom where he strips out of his wet clothes and takes a quick shower, just to keep his core temperature from dropping too low. Once he's clean and dry, he grabs a clean pair of soft sweats and a Red Bull t-shirt from the dryer in the bathroom, and tosses his soaked clothes into the washing machine. He was going to put on a load tomorrow morning anyway, so might as well do it now.

He's in the kitchen, finishing up on unloading the groceries, when Charles comes padding into the kitchen behind him.

"Do you want tea?" Max asks without turning to look at him.

"Yes please," Charles answers without hesitation.

Max puts the water on, and when he finally does turn to face the other man, he sees that Charles has hoisted himself up to sit on the kitchen island instead of sitting in an actual chair, like a normal person.

His hair is still damp and Charles is wearing his running shorts that now appear to be fully dry, thanks to the heated drying rack and the quick-drying fabric of the shorts. He's also wearing an awfully familiar-looking black hoodie that doesn't fit him properly over the shoulders.

Max has to blink a couple of times to make sure he's not seeing things.

"Is that my shirt?"

Charles glances down at himself. When he looks back up to meet Max's gaze, his cheeks are flushed.

"Is... Is that okay?" He asks, voice soft and uncertain and small.

He sounds and looks so fucking cute that Max might actually implode on the spot.

"My t-shirt doesn't dry as quickly as my shorts and I was cold, and I had a feeling you didn't need me walking around shirtles and —,"

Max doesn't let him finish, because before he even realizes he's moving, he's crossed the kitchen and situated himself right between Charles' legs, hands curled in the fabric of the hoodie, lips pressed against the Monégasque's.

Charles flails a little and makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat, but when he recovers, he returns the kiss. It's a closed-mouthed kiss — nothing but a firm press of lips, really — but it's still the best kiss either man has ever had.

When he pulls back a small eternity later, Charles' lips are a little puffy and red and his eyes are unfocused.

Max finds himself thinking that he's never seen anyone or anything as beautiful.

"Yes, Charles. That's okay," the Red Bull driver says with a smile, finally answering Charles' question.

Charles smiles back, all dimples and bright eyes and sunshine.

It makes Max's heart leap.

"Good," Charles tells him, hands coming up to tangle in Max's hair, tugging ever so slightly. "Now kiss me like you mean it."

It's not a question, it's a command.

"With pleasure," Max says, and that's exactly what he does.

#Prompts #Lestappen prompt #Lestappen #Lestappen fic #Lestappen drabble

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f1-giuki · 11 months

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Hi babe!

Here's a prompt for lestappen and a little drink to get you away from contract law for a bit

“god, here- just hold my hand.”

🍹🍹 tagay tayo

DARLING BABY🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖 love you so much you have no idea🥺💖 Sorry if I'm late but these fucking exams are taking my will to live out of me😭😭😭😭

Now here's a little something for you👀👀

Max loves petrichor. He likes the rain falling softly over things in the summer, the soft gray clouds and the muted lights, cutting through the merciless heat. The thunder in the distance, softly rumbling, playing over his thoughts. He has had many fond memories linked to the rain, many karting wins, race wins, pole positions, championships and Champions League finals won by his favourite football team. Sports and the rain are a fan favourite.

But Max doesn't like the rain now. It's late night, two am or not too much after, and he is pacing nervously in a square metre space. He's in the Ferrari garage at the Circuit de la Sarthe, for his first ever actual 24h of Le Mans, and he's stressed as fuck. He's not supposed to be in the car for another few hours, but the torrential rain is pouring down the track and it's keeping him awake. He has slept for a while after his stint, the adrenaline falling down rapidly, but he woke up after a particularly loud thunder and he's been restless for the past fifteen minutes, worried for Charles, his teammate.

That's just one of the many strange things happening that early Sunday. Like the yellow circle with a familiar looking red bull painting nicely the side of the red car. A little partnership, as Christian called it when Max phoned him one stupid morning to ask him why the fuck did Ferrari offer him a deal to drive for them for the 2032 endurance championship?

The best kept secret in the world, because seeing Charles and Carlos' surprised faces when he appeared in Via Abetone Inferiore, Maranello, was the fucking funniest thing Max had ever seen. But that was over a year ago, now Max isn't laughing, he's biting his nails worried for Charles.

The Monegasque is managing the car beautifully, breezing past the other GT cars as if they weren't even there. He's born for it and Max shouldn't even worry about Charles. But it's Le Mans and it's raining at night.

"Cabrón, stop pacing, you're making me anxious!" Carlos says, slapping Max's shoulder. He knows the Spaniard will slap him in the face if he keeps on flapping his hands around. "Fifteen minutes and he'll be out of the car, we have this under control, go back to sleep," Carlos says and Max can't really argue with him. What is settling in his stomach is still not very good.

Carlos ignores him and keeps on preparing for the drive. A mechanic brings Max a warm infusion, to relax a bit, Max. He thanks him and drinks it, he quite likes the fact that Ferrari has both cans of Red Bull and infusions. One for each of his messy mental states.

"Ten minutes, Max, then he's all yours," Carlos says snickering when Max finishes his drink and plays with the paper cup.

"Fuck off, Carlos," Max spits as his leg keeps bouncing.

He spends the next minutes with his eyes glued to the TV screen in the box, leaning on his chair. Carlos cracks his knuckles and mutters: showtime. The whole garage turns alive as Carlos grabs his seat and goes out to the lay-by. They load up the tank and Charles gets out. Carlos gets in and drives away. The Monegasque gets in the box among pats on the back and Max looks at him.

Charles looks happy, he'd jump around if he wasn't so tired. He sinks into the chair next to Max and looks at him with those smiley green eyes. He takes off his gloves and Max squeezes the little paper cup in his hands.

"What are you doing up?" Charles asks, his accent prominent, his Rs inexistent.

"Couldn't sleep," Max says as he passes his hands on his face.

Charles takes off his helmet and his balaclava and looks at Max with his hair rumpled. Stupid Monegasque, stupid hair and stupid tired brain for making his heart beating wildly.

"Why?" Charles asks, simply. He puts his helmet down on his thighs. A mechanic brings him the same cup Max has destroyed in his hand. Charles thanks him in Italian and spreads his legs a bit wider, touching Max thigh with his knees. Max looks at the point where their bodies are meeting and then looks at Charles. The Monegasque smiles. Motherfucker.

"Answer meeee," Charles says, sipping his beverage. Max's leg keeps on bouncing, but now he doesn't have an explanation. Charles is next to him. His brain is fucking weird, Max can't understand it.

"You…" Max says, trying to make his leg stop twitching. It's useless, so he flaps his hands around too.

Charles smiles at him, a mixture of endeared and surprised. "Me? Were you worried about me in the race? I can keep it in the lines with the rain, even if I'm not a maniac like you and Carlos!"

Max shakes his head and looks at where Charles' hand is resting on his red suit. "Hey, are you okay, Max? Fuck, you shake like a leaf, do you want me to call the doctor?"

Max shakes his head. He should really fucking sleep. Carlos' hypercar is shown on tv and Max tries to steady his breath. It's not very useful.

"God, here, hold my hand…" Charles says, opening his palm and pushing it in Max's face. The Dutchman blinks at it. Charles rolls his eyes and takes Max's hand in his. It's warm, not sweaty, and incredibly soft. Charles definitely uses expensive hand lotion.

"Yes, I do," Charles says and Max blushes a little, he said it out loud. "Don't worry, just try to focus on your breathing, Max, then we'll go and lay down a little, is it okay?"

"Yeah, thank you," Max croaks. Charles squeezes his hand and smiles.

Max feels his eyes get a bit heavier and he leans over Charles’ shoulder. The Monegasque lets him rest there and Max feels sleep coming to him once again. Max doesn't know if he's dreaming of it or it's really happening, but he feels a pair of lips on his hair, mumbling a good night, baby softly. He hums happily anyway.

It's going to be a long night…

#lestappen #lestappen fic #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #lestappen fanfic #lestappen prompt

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lestappen-fever-dream · 2 years

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lestappen prompt

I just want a lestappen fanvideo with Taylor Swift’s Long Live

#lestappen #lestappen prompt #lestappen fanvideo #I wish I had talent for video editing but I'm shit

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panevanbuckley · 4 months

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soulmate au where your soulmate's thoughts appear on your skin except your soulmate has adhd and your body becomes a living canvas of nonsensical, never-ending, constantly entertaining trails of thought

#like out of all the soulmate aus i always found the 'thoughts on skin' one most unrealistic #because my damn brain never shuts up! there's no way my soulmate would just be getting one random thought appear on them 😭#imagine your otp #soulmate au #writing prompt #drarry #wolfstar #jegulus #buddie #lestappen #maxiel #landoscar #sebchal #martian #sambucky #sterek #IF ANYBODY WRITES OR FINDS A FIC LIKE THIS FOR ANY OF <<THESE SHIPS PLS PLS SEND MY WAY 🙏

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maaxverstappen · 1 month

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help me hold onto you | T | 4/12

f1driver!max and streamer!charles

The man– Charles, Max assumes– sounds French. He loves that. He should be used to a French accent, he was forced to converse with Pierre often enough, but it sounds different coming from Charles. More melodic. Almost similar to someone he used to know once. “And that made me think,” Charles says, voice bellowing from Max’s speakers. “That it was stupid that we didn't have carrots before. Like, come on, it's a farming game.” Max has no fucking idea what the hell he is on about.

or: Max is lonely and finds Charles streaming on Twitch.

based on this prompt sent to @f1prompts

#eeeee I'm rlly excited about this!!!#the prompt lived rent free in my head since the moment i saw it so i Had To #hope i can do it justice just a little :)#also for context: the songs i would add to a playlist for this fic are the archer by taylor n satellite by harry #like i said in the authors note: currently anticipating 10 chapters and one every week or so. maybe be sooner may be longer #I'm excited to get it written and posted tho so we'll see!! hence the no beta too lmao my gf said she would but i wanna post it Now #alims writes #f1 rpf #f1 rpf fic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #formula 1 rpf #formula 1 fanfiction #lestappen #lestappen fic #lestappen fanfic #lestappen rpf #1633 #3316

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nyoomfruits · 3 months

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"if you win i'll kiss you" from the kiss prompts !!!!!!

big MWAH smooch to @jennarations for transcribing that one interview of charles describing the inchident for me when i couldnt listen to it you are the BEST

“if you win, i’ll kiss you”

“Charles!” Someone yells, as Charles makes his way to the karting track in search of his father. He knows who it is before turning around, recognizes the English pronunciation of his name, colored by the hard tsj and lispyness of the s. There’s only one person who says it like that.

“Max,” Charles says, tone even. Max is... An enigma to him. On track he’s fast, ruthless, annoying, snatching wins that were supposed to be Charles’s, hoisting trophies that should’ve been in his hands.

But outside he’s. Friendly. In a very skitish way, like he doesn’t really know how to talk to people, like he’s only ever been taught how to race and never how to make friends.

It should make Charles feel bad for him, maybe. But Charles is fourteen and he already has friends, and he doesn’t care for Max Verstappen and his million trophies and his bright fucking future.

Or well, he does care. But only in the sense that he wants to beat him. Take his trophies, his wins. That stupid future WDC everyone keeps whispering about, despite him never even having set foot in a single seater.

“How are you?” Max smiles, genuine and kind, and Charles squints at him.

“Good. Fine,” Charles says. Maybe if he keeps his tone clipped, doesn’t ask any return questions, Max will get the hint and go away.

“Are you excited for the race?” Max asks instead, voice eager, completely oblivious to Charles’s annoyance. “I’m liking Val d’Argenton so far, good track.”

“Sure,” Charles says, shrugs a little halfheartedly, looks around if he can maybe see his dad milling about, pretend he’s calling him over. “Excited to win.”

Max laughs. “Ha,” he says, “me too.”

Charles squints again. “Not if I get there first.”

Max’s eyes are twinkling, and he’s enjoying this, the annoying bastard. “Wanna bet?”

“How about,” Charles says, “if you win, I’ll kiss you.” It’s a bit mean, maybe. Charles has seen the way Max looks at him sometimes. It’s the same way Charles looks at the girls in his class. He’s not stupid, he knows what it means.

Max looks like that now, eyes wide and a little startled, but interested, too. “Oh,” he says. “Yeah! Yeah, okay. I’ll win.”

“Sure,” Charles says again. There’s no way. Charles won’t let him. Plus, he has no intention of kissing Max, so.

Good motivation all around.

They get called away then, and before Charles knows it he’s strapped into his kart, ready to go. He forgets about Max all together then, completely focused on just winning, all the way up to the moment he actually passes Max on track. Only then does he remember the bet, and he smiles a little bit at his double victory. Only one kart left in front of him now. He’s so close he can almost feel the weight of the trophy in his hands.

But then at the next corner Max is back with a vengeance, pushing Charles so wide he falls all the way back to seventh place. He’s absolutely fuming when he finally crosses the finish line, pulls up beside Max to make an ‘are you crazy?’ movement at him.

He can’t see Max’s face, but he can almost picture it, mirroring his own annoyance, as he pushes Max wide in retaliation and he sends him rolling into a giant puddle of water, soaking Max all the way up to his middle.

In the end, none of it even matters. Not the bet, not the pushing, not the podium. They both get disqualified for unsportsmanlike behavior and then that’s the end of that.

It’ll take a couple of years, before Max smiles at him again, says his name in that same way, with that same excitement.

It’ll take even more before Max finally gets that kiss. But when he does give it, it’s not because of any bet, or because of any stupid jealousy or need to prove himself. It’ll be because Charles wants to.

#lestappen #drabbles #still slowly working my way through the kiss prompts haha

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wisteriagoesvroom · 8 days

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lestappen + beach day

The whistle blows. The spike was solid. There was no way it was out. It was simply impossible. He’d worked perfectly with Pierre on it. Pierre going low on the dig, Lando shouting when Charles leapt and smashed it down the court, right in the gap where two bodies stood.

It was good. And Charles is good at a lot of things. But the problem was, the other person standing on the other side of the net, looking shockingly muscular while topless, of course had to be one Max Verstappen.

(It’s very hard not to stare at the gleam of his boobs while Charles stalks up to the net. He adjusts his sunglasses. That is what they did in the films. So he can channel being cool for now, too.)

“It was not over the line. Absolutely not.”

“Mate.” Max replies. “You can clearly see there is a dent there.”

“The edge of the ball did not touch that line.”

“Are you blind?”

“The way your chest is shining? Yes, perhaps.”

Somewhere off court, Alex makes an ooh noise. Somewhere off court is the sound of George slapping Alex’s shoulder, ostensibly to make him shut up.

On the back of Max’s court, Oscar adjusts his cap. “Listen, it’s a friendly—”, but the noise dies in his throat as Charles shoots him a look.

“It’s not my problem if you’re so easily distracted.” Max continues. He steps closer to the net, and rests his hands on his hips.

“And it’s not my fault if you’re blind and can’t see that the ball was clearly out.”

As if sensing that this is going to take a while, Oscar rolls his eyes and goes to open the cooler with the popsicles. Lando follows in quick succession, and Pierre mutters a few choice words in French that Charles chooses to ignore.

Charles feels like his mother’s carefully taught decorum is the only thing keeping him from smacking Max or escalating the situation to something even worse to contemplate, and certainly against FIA parental guidance rules.

“Why are you always being so difficult, Max?”

Max shoves up his sunglasses higher on his head. Charles realises with a start that Max’s nose is sun-flushed, and he’s got the start of some freckles just below his eyes.

(Charles will spend too much time staring at the ceiling fan later in bed, trying not to remember the exact placement of these very freckles.)

“Because, Charlie.” Max says, carefully, clear enough for the whole court to hear, “I think you like it quite a bit when I do.”

#lestappen #1633 #max verstappen #Charles leclerc #cl16 #mv33 #3316 #wiz.promptfills #look i did this prompt fill while in transit #if it’s bad do not judge #i mean fine if you judge #judge it silently #thanks #I hit post too soon so if you saw the unfinished version? no you did not #THERE WERE SO MANY TYPOS ON THE FIRST DRAFT BLESS Y’ALL FOR NOT SAYING ANYTHING

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goingxmissing · 4 months

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2023 fic reader highlights

thanks to mostlymaudlin for putting together this template. i'm going to enjoy rereading all of these over the next few days and using the floating ao3 comment box, which has significantly improved my life, and increased the unhinged nature of my comments.

Fic that made me laugh

Cool Things to Say to Your Soulmate by @powerful-owl & @love-leah • daniel ricciardo/max verstappen • a collection of soulmate AUs (everything em writes is hilarious, and this is full of heartache, miscommunication, and so many fun takes on the soulmate trope. delightful. haven't looked at geese the same way since.)

2. Fic that made me cry

one step closer and i'm real by @officialmood • daniel ricciardo/max verstappen • time travel, alternate universes (this fic is exquisite, every version of daniel that max meets is distinctly different and broke my heart in a multitude of ways. made my heart twist in the best way.)

3. Fic that gave me a story hangover

all this happened, more or less by multi21 • charles leclerc/max verstappen • social media, canon divergence (so much fun and so inspired! charles is a secret singer-songwriter, told through social media posts and devastating lyrics, le castellet is in my head at any given moment. went with this for story hangover because i thought about it for Days afterwards and then charles literally put his music on spotify. drop the escalier des fleurs content charles!!)

4. Fic I want to discuss book club style

playboy in the grotto by @freeuselandonorris • lando norris/oscar piastri • watersports (the pinnacle of horny romance: gross, filthy, desperate, fond. had to pause reading several times to rant about my favourite bits. need a book club to discuss the wider cinematic universe where they explore more kinks in the most tender way.)

5. Fic that got me a lil flustered

the fire is slowly dying by @strawberry-daiquiris • oscar piastri/mark webber • age difference, mentor/protégé (this is one of the most unhinged fics i've ever had the pleasure of enjoying. oscar is a total menace. scenes in this fic will stay with me Forever. i urge anyone to take a chance on the pairing if you're intrigued and FEAST.)

6. Fic by one of my favourite authors

jump right in by @strawberry-daiquiris • lando norris/oscar piastri • rule 63 (imagine your fiancée muses, 'what if lando was a girl and she'd never had an orgasm?' one day and then a couple of months later she's still working on a 100k+ masterpiece following the 2023 season where a third of the grid are women? i'm the luckiest. this fic is everything and i'm going to be LOST without it when it's finished.)

7. Fic I reread more than once

screen glows in a dark room by @hollywoodsargeant • oscar piastri/logan sargeant • phone sex, sex toys (steaming hot phone sex, not a single word wasted. the first fic i read for this pairing and i keep coming back to it and also the whole apex predator series. HIGHLY recommend checking these out for the Dynamics.)

8. Fic I sent to everyone I know

side by side in orbit by @glasscushion • lando norris/oscar piastri, max fewtrell/lando norris • cuckolding, voyeurism, open relationships (the concept is rancid and the vibes are UNMATCHED. this was delicious. as i said in my comment: when max feels spit pool beneath his tongue, when he forgets to breathe because he's so into what's happening in front of him. i felt that!!!!! immediate rec.)

9. Fic that made me fall in love with an author

i'll kiss you first by venerat • lando norris/oscar piastri • a/b/o (my first fic for this pairing, i read it on a Very Early train and my brain never recovered. you might be able to tell from my tumblr. me reading this fic over and over like: 😅. still can't see the word 'ripe' and not think about lando being a grotty omega. every fic by venerat is an absolute BANGER. hit that subscribe button, my friends!!)

thank you to all of the wonderful authors and creators who have shared their work in fandom this year. 2023 has been a feast <3

#fic rec #i tried to do this post without commentary but it was impossible #blanket rec for all fics by the authors mentioned #i only wish there had been more spaces but it was such a delight to use the prompts to really think about fics that fit #i've read basically no books and A Lot of fic this year sooooo #can't wait to lose my mind rereading all these!!!!#maxiel #max/daniel #lestappen #max/charles #landoscar #oscar/lando #loscar #logan/oscar #oscarmark #nortrell #fic #ao3 #about me

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monacodarling · 2 months

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#fic prompt #I’m reading this BL and this made me laugh #charlos #piarles #lestappen #landoscar #loscar #galex #brocedes #chalex #sebchal #1644 #FIC PROMPT PLEASE

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f1prompts · 2 months

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lestappen!!

RACE ENGINEER CHARLES X DRIVER MAX!! there's no way that charles would be as understanding as GP, it would be bickering married couple to the next level.

Either established relationship, or maybe they get together because another driver (lando?) calls max out for flirting with charles on live television.

DW: a bit of comedy, if possible

DNW; heavy angst

If you’d like to fill this prompt, click here for our Fills FAQ 💖

#Pairing: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen #Character: Charles Leclerc #Character: Max Verstappen #DW: Comedy #Type: Prompt #lestappen #f1 fanfic #Index: 18

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lxndonorris · 8 months

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steamy prompts #1

So, here are the ones requested;

"Close your eyes and count to ten. I have a surprise for you." - with Dando (Daniel Ricciardo and Lando Norris)

"This wasn't part of the plan, but I'm not complaining." -Dando (Daniel Ricciardo and Lando Norris)

"Why are you looking at me like that? Are you planning to kiss me?" - with Lando Norris x Reader

"Let's skip the small talk and get straight to what we both want." - with Lestappen (Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc)

"The way you're staring is making it hard to concentrate." - Dando (Daniel Ricciardo and Lando Norris) - Logan Sargeant x Reader

"We should stop... but I don't want to..." - with Lando Norris x Reader

"I've been imagining this moment since the day we met." - with Lestappen (Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc)

I will add a few more tomorrow after work, but feel free to ask for one if you like. See

I am open to many different fandoms besides F1, like football, tennis, motogp etc.

If you want to request anything else, feel free to do so. I mostly do one shots, around 1k-4k words.

I will start writing them throughout the week, and I have a few others plans beforehand so keep an eye out for other stuff!

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lestappenforever · 10 months

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Hiiii, I don’t know if you’re still doing the lestappen prompts but how about the second one?

2. “Please?” “Those eyes won’t work on me this time.”

Ask, and you shall receive, my sweet. ❤️

---

2. "Please?" "Those eyes won't work on me this time."

"Please?" Charles asks again, looking up at Max from beneath those ridiculously long, full eyelashes.

His green eyes are shining in the gleam of the fluorescent lights above their heads.

"No," Max says, looking away from Charles and glaring at the man standing next to him instead.

He knew this had been a bad idea. Had known it the second Charles spotted the sign of the animal shelter. Had known it the moment Charles had convinced him to go inside, 'just to have a look, Max, I promise'. Felt it in his gut as Charles had spotted the three-legged shiba inu puppy with the big, brown eyes and gasped. Started regretting every life decision that had lead him to this point as the shelter worker had opened the door to let Charles into the pen.

The puppy had climbed into Charles' lap the instant the Monégasque had sat down on the floor, and now there were two pairs of puppy eyes looking up at him.

Only one set of them belongs to an actual puppy.

"Please?"

"Those eyes won't work on me this time," Max tells him with a huff, crossing his arms across his chest.

"But Max, look at him," Charles insists, as if that's the issue here. As if Max hasn't seen the puppy and isn't aware of how cute he is.

Max is aware, thank you very much.

"Charles, we can't adopt a puppy. The cats would hate it. The puppy would hate it," he points out.

The shelter worker decides to pipe up at that.

"Actually, this one has lived with cats before and he loved it."

Max glares at him again, and the man promptly stops talking.

"Max, please."

"No."

Charles sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. He looks ridiculous and Max kind of hates him.

"Pretty please?"

"We're not getting the damn puppy, Charles. End of story."

It's the end of the discussion, and Max feels confident that he's managed to get through to Charles this time.

Until Charles' bottom lip fucking wobbles, and Max is desperately trying to understand how this has become his life.

---

Charles names him Emilian, and Jimmy and Sassy fucking adore him.

Because yeah, they end up getting the damn puppy.

#Lestappen #Lestappen drabble #Lestappen prompt #Prompts #Asks prompts #Asks #Anon ask

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f1-giuki · 10 months

Note

For the Forced Proximity promt: — “we never speak of this again, do you hear?”

Hi darling! Sorry for the extremely delayed answer, i am shit at managing time... But!! I managed to write the prompt in time for the end of the Austrain GP! And it's a bit long, 1.7k words sjjsjsjdjd... hope im forgiven😭💖😭💖

It has some nsfw action in a broom closet in Austria, hope you like thissss👀

Austria was the home of many contrasting feelings for Charles Leclerc.

He nearly got his first race win there in the big guys league (once he'd say Max stole from him his first win, but he's over that now, it's funny to look at his own face on the podium in 2019, all constipated and full of rage…), he pulled some shit on Sebastian a few years back, he went through hell and back in his red tractor, and now, in the year of the Lord 2022, he's savoring the sweet sweet taste of champagne on the highest step of the podium (not without some issues, let's be clear, the goddess of bad luck always looks over him).

His left foot keeps on twitching after he spent the last few laps pushing like a maniac on the brake pedal when he found out that the throttle was stuck open at 30% whatever he did, but he's enjoying the contrast of the cold champagne and the hot sun on his skin, he will complain later on the debrief with his team, he has time before he can mentally prepare to hear whatever nonsense Binotto usually talks about.

He's ecstatic, he's had an amazing battle with Max, one of the good ones, those that Arthur, his brother, defines as niquer sur la piste, fucking on track.

Charles shakes his head as he keeps on spraying champagne all over his team underneath the podium when he feels someone spraying him with the force of an oceanic wave. He hears an amused laugh, an happy laugh, Max's laugh, before getting drowned once again, Max soaking the back of his racing suit and his neck with precision and a stupidly fond grin.

Charles closes his eyes and starts spraying Max weakly, trying to clean up his eyes a little. He tries to protest but he can only manage to shoot a fond look at the Dutchman and some stupid noise comes up from his throat. Weak idiot.

Lewis looks at them, a mixture of intrigue and embarrassment dances on his face, a mixture that tips dangerously towards the I am going to plot something for you two you can't even imagine…

Max and Charles keep on dancing around each other, the Dutchman vibrates when he steps next to Charles for the official podium picture. Lewis can't look anywhere but at the point where Max is squeezing Charles’s waist so hard. The Monegasque has a content dimpled smile on his lips. Happy and merry.

They wave around for a while and they get back inside, heading towards the press conference room. It's a trip, across various buildings that usually makes a nice walk, but for Lewis those ten minutes are atrocious torture.

He's been left third wheeling with the two idiots and their strange sexual tension. Max keeps on talking with Charles, getting way too close to him than a normal person explaining turn 10 should, but Charles doesn't seem to mind, he walks funnily around, nearly squeezed against a wall by the Dutchman's body, but careful not to step on Max's feet. He can't put even half an inch of distance between them.

Pathetic, Lewis thinks. For the first time in his life Lewis wishes he came fourth and avoided a podium.

It's painful to look at Charles staring at Max's lips and wetting his own with the tip of his tongue every ten seconds, it's even more painful to see Max get all touchy with Charles, a tap in the shoulder, a little touch on his waist or a squeeze of his hand.

The worst thing is that they're both painfully oblivious to what's happening. Aliens in their own bodies. This makes Lewis mad. Max precariously balances his trophy and the bottle of Champagne in one hand as he keeps on gesturing things to Charles with his free hand.

Pathetic, at least I had the guts to kiss Nico in a broom closet, Lewis thinks.

That's when it clicks.

Lewis Hamilton has walked on the ugly carpet from the podium to the conference room enough times to remember that there is a broom closet on the left, twenty steps ahead of them. He looks around, nobody is coming, there's no FIA officials, no journalists, no photographers or team members. Lewis laughs under his breath. Max and Charles still pay him no mind. He overtakes them, walking a bit faster, and opens the door of the closet. He gets lucky the keys are inserted in the keyhole.

"This way, guys, we'll get there quicker," he says and Max and Charles follow his words, too engrossed in their conversation to realise what Lewis is doing.

"Have fun, boys, see you in fifteen-ish minutes or so!" Lewis says when they're inside, before turning the light on and closing the door, locking it from the outside.

Max and Charles stop talking. The Monegasque look at the other confused before realising what is going on.

"He locked us in a broom closet! Mate, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Max asks, putting the trophy and the bottle of champagne on the ground to bang on the door with his palms.

"I'm doing myself a favour, fuck it off before I have to endure more third-wheeling, I'm not Checo," Lewis says, he's on the defensive side.

"We are not together!" Charles splutters and Max passes his hands over his face.

"Well, pride month ended a few weeks ago, you're still on time for new discoveries, bye bye!" Lewis says and walks away.

Charles lowers his trophy too and takes a big gulp of champagne. When in Rome… Max looks at him and blushes. The ugly yellowish light in the closet is too close to Max's head, heating his black Pirelli cap. The problem is not the lighting per se, the problem is that the Dutchman's shadow completely engulfs Charles, and their little height difference feels multiplied by a thousand.

Max gulps down loudly. He wants, he's been wanting all weekend. He's not been subtle at all, especially on the podium, he's been pretty gay while Bizet's overture de Carmen was playing. But Charles, naïve Charles, didn't tell him anything, he just looked at him with those happy green eyes.

"What?" The Monegasque asks, tilting his head to the side, squinting a bit because of how harsh the light is on his eyes.

Max shakes his head. Shut up, Max Emilian Verstappen, don't you dare talk! If you talk there's no way you'll get out of this with your sanity intact, he thinks.

"You were definitely going to say something," Charles mumbles, touching Max's chest with his index finger, keeping it there.

"Are you drunk?" Max asks.

"No? Are you?"

"This is not a clever answer,"

"Yours wasn't a clever question, Max," Charles says, wiggling his brows.

Max wants to bang his head against the wall.

"Please, don't, don't do this to me," Max says.

"Doing what?" Charles whispers, staring at Max's blue eyes.

"You know what,"

"Oh, c'mon Max, Max I'm just honest Verstappen, be direct with me,"

"What? You, what do you mean?" Max asks.

"You're not the only one feeling this…" Charles whispers, tangling his hands behind Max's neck.

"Rot op Charles," Fuck you Charles, Max whispers before kissing Charles avidly.

Charles’s hands tangle in between his hair, pushing him close to his mouth. The Monegasque whimpers impatiently and Max kisses him, taking care of savoring Charles and the lingering champagne taste in his mouth. He may have a champagne kink.

"You are insufferable," Max moans as Charles takes his lower lip between his teeth. He lets it go slowly, driving Max mad.

"Tell me about it," Charles says, his lips nearly touching Max. He keeps Max there by the hold he has on his hair. It's a game Max unfortunately likes to play.

"You take my wins, fuck, my poles, my mental sanity,"

Charles laughs, he latches his mouth on Max's neck, sucking a bruise right on the border between his neck and the fireproofs. Noticeable.

"Pick me up," Charles orders, kissing him again.

Max without thinking twice sets his hands on the Monegasque's legs and lifts him up. Charles latches his legs on Max's waist, groaning when their crotches line up and grind against each other.

"Keep going, baby," Charles whispers in Max's ear, nibbling the lobe.

"Fuck you," Max says, slamming Charles against the wall and grinding into him.

"Hm, that takes time, Max, we don't have it now… Unless you'd like me to fuck you here, while others have the key to this place," Charles whispers, tracing a lazy path of kissed on Max's jaw, making him shiver and falter a bit with his ministrations. Max whimpers.

"Oh… So you have a thing for voyeurism? Is that so?" Charles continues, swallowing Max's answer with his mouth.

Max keeps grinding his painfully hard cock against Charles', not caring if he comes across as desperate or as if he comes in his pants. He's going to clean his race suit and his fireproofs with his cheeks burning with shame, so he might as well take advantage of it.

"Come on, baby, come for me," Charles whispers, clearly affected too.

Max would tease him but he has to concentrate on keeping his moans quiet and not dropping Charles as he comes pathetically in his pants.

Max breathes in Charles’ neck, trying to calm down as Charles whispers sweet nothings in his ear, playing with his hair.

"My life is so fucked right now…" Max whispers and Charles grins before kissing him again, this time softly.

"Welcome to the club, baby" Charles mumbles on Max's lips. The Dutchman smiles.

They hear some fumbling with the door knob but they don't care that much. The post-orgasmic haze… The door slams open and Lewis and Checo look at them. The Mexican looks disgusted.

"Lewis, pinche pendejo, you didn't make the situation any better, look at them, this is going to be a problem for me! Un pinche maldito problema!" Checo shouts.

Max keeps Charles’ legs on his waist, not bothering to take his hands off his ass.

"What the fuck was I supposed to do, Checo?!" Lewis shouts.

"We never speak of this again, do you hear?" Max says to the two men standing in front of the door. Charles keeps on kissing his neck.

"Only if you two avoid eye-fucking every chance you get," Lewis offers.

"We need to talk about things before concluding this contract, non?" Charles says and Max rolls his eyes fondly.

#lestappen #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #lestappen fanfic #lestappen prompt #charles leclerc #max verstappen #f1 rpf #austrian gp 2022

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