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lalunalando · 3 days

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The Love You Want - LN4

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warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, fluff (may make you cry a little), angst, swearing, slight degradation, thigh riding, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)

songs referenced: The Love You Want - Sleep Token / Granite - Sleep Token

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2 years.

It’s been 2 whole years since the love of your life walked out your front door after telling you it was over, he couldn’t handle the relationship alongside his career anymore, and that he never actually loved you.

So imagine the surprise you felt when you stepped out of your apartment elevator after returning from a long day of work, only to find him sitting at your door, a basket of dog toys and a bunch of your favorite flowers in hand…

“Lan? Wha-When did you get here? What are you even doing here?” You asked, shock evident on you face as you stood frozen like you’d seen a ghost.

“Oh thank god you didn’t move! I was hoping I wasn’t waiting outside some random apartment and about to scare a stranger” he chuckled, the sound that once felt like home to you now leaving your stomach feeling instantly nauseous.

“Lando, don’t avoid the question. What are you doing here?” You huff as you brush past him, opening your apartment door finally and stepping inside to put your belongings down knowing this probably wasn’t going to be a quick conversation by any means.

“Do you mind if I come in? This really isn’t a talk I want to have out here in the hallway..” he asks awkwardly, gauging your reactions and movements, expecting you to even slam the door in his face after the last time you both spoke. He deserved that, he knows it, but he really hopes you’ll let him in because he has so much he wants to say to you.

You move out of the doorway to let him through with a sigh that doesn’t go unnoticed, twisting at his heart knowing he’s at fault for how this is making you feel.

After closing the door behind him, you turn around and nod towards the dog toy basket with a confused look.

“Oh, I was hoping the pups were still here to give them to, I miss our kids…” he says as he looks down at the floor, suddenly wondering if it was still okay to call them “ours” as if he didn’t walk out on you all.

“They do, they’re just having a play date with the neighbors while I was at work, they’ll be dropped off in an hour” you respond as you head to the fridge, suddenly the bottle of wine in the fridge is seeming very tempting to crack open… “so Lando, I’m going to ask one more time, what are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can get out in the moment, he knows there’s a million other things he wants to say, but he froze, and that was the basis of why he was here anyway.

You freeze, halting the glass of wine you were currently pouring, and just stare at him blankly.

“Right, yeah, I should probably explain a little more than that” he laughs nervously while scratching the back of his neck. “Alright, well, I fucked up. I should never have walked out back then, I should have never said you were too much of a distraction to my career to be with and more than anything I should never have lied and said I never loved you.”

“Lan, it’s been two years, why now? Where is this suddenly coming from after two fucking years of no contact whatsoever? And why do you think I want to even hear it? What if I’ve moved on.” It all comes out before you can even stop yourself, the hurt and anger you’ve been keeping in since that day making you see red.

“I never stopped thinking about it, about you. I thought I couldn’t handle being away from you all the time and that you wouldn’t want to wait around for me all the time, but after every race I still just want to come home to you. And I know you haven’t moved on because the love we shared was once in a lifetime, I’m still full of the love you want, please just let me prove it to you. You can tell me you don’t still love me and I’ll leave you alone for good, and maybe you believe that in the end you will be better off that way, but I’m begging you to give me one more chance and I’ll be full of the love you want, no matter what, forevermore.”

By the time he’s done speaking, you both have tears in your eyes.

It was never truly over, you knew you could never stop loving him, no matter how much it hurt you.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re rounding your kitchen bench and closing the space between you both.

Desperate to feel his lips on yours and make up for the two years lost, to show him the love you harbored for him never left.

And boy, did he feel it all.

You needed more of him, you knew it was pathetic of you to fold so quickly but you’d already lost two years and didn’t want to waste any more of it, and when he wore that god damn playboy hoodie you always said you loved seeing him wear, there was no point denying how much you wanted him still.

“I hate that you still have this affect on me, I hate that I never stopped loving you, but most of all, I hate that you’ve still got me in a chokehold”

That confession is all he needed from you before he’s picking you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you down the familiar hallway to your room that he’s traveled so many times before, but with a newly found appreciation for all the pictures along the walls that you could never find it in your heart to switch.

As he throws you down on the bed and climbs over you, eyes blown and full of lust and longing, you can’t help but to admire him.

The gorgeous everchanging eyes, his adorable freckles and moles, and a slight beard he was finally able to grow after years of being teased by the other guys on the grid.

His lips are instantly back on yours, taking all the air out of your lungs and replacing it with his own as if it was the only way you could both live from then on.

You tug at the hem of his hoodie as his hands slide up your thighs to the edge of your skirt, both not ashamed of how fast you need the others clothes off.

Only pulling back for a second to take his hoodie off, his lips are immediately back on you, only finding their way down your throat this time.

Biting just hard enough to make you yelp, he’s instantly soothing the pain as he laps his tongue over the spot, causing you to whimper like the desperate little slut you always were for him.

Hands continuing their mission up your skirt, an almost animalistic growl comes from his throat as his fingers find the lace of your thong, completely drenched for him already.

“Always so ready for me baby, god you couldn’t be more perfect, you were made for me just like I was for you.” His voice filled with lust and love, reminding you that you will always be his.

Flipping you both over and settling you on his lap, he can’t help but want to draw it out a little longer, tease you a little more, make you beg for him.

You grind down on his lap, desperate for even a little relief, because as much as you hate to admit it, no one in the past two years has made you feel even remotely the way he does without even trying.

You’d had your fair share of fixes throughout the two years, using many men to your advantage to try and get over him, but none of them even came close to making you forget. No one did it as good as him.

“Someone is still just as needy and desperate as always huh?” You can feel the smirk even though his lips are against your neck, making you whimper again, just proving his point. “Do you want to show me just how much you missed me too? How good you can be for me?”

“Please Lan, need you, will do anything but I need you”

He laughs, and you know he’s got something sadistic and borderline humiliating in mind, but you don’t care because he knows you’ll do anything for him, you always will.

“Such a good girl, can you straddle my thigh for a second baby?” He says with a smirk you know means trouble.

You do as he says, and shift over to his thigh, giving him a look of confusion as you wait for his next instructions.

“Now baby, I want you to ride it.”

You gasp, this was new for the two of you but you couldn’t deny that it excited you a lot to try.

“I want to see how desperate of a slut you can be for me, I want to watch you get yourself off with nothing but my thigh.” He breathes into your ear as his hand hold your hips, helping you find a stable rhythm.

You can’t stop the sounds coming out of your mouth, and he wouldn’t want you to even if you could.

If Lando could listen to one thing on repeat for the rest of his life, it would be your sweet moans that only he can get out of you time and time again.

As you get louder and start stuttering your rhythm on his thigh, he knows you’re getting close.

“That’s my girl, come on, cum on my thigh and I’ll reward you for behaving so well baby”

That was enough to send you over the edge for what would be the first of many times that evening, screaming his name loud enough that you were sure the whole of Monaco could have heard you.

Still coming down from your high, he doesn’t give you a second to recover before he flips you back down onto the bed as he rids himself of his now ruined pants before pulling your own ruined panties off and climbing straight back over you, claiming your lips once again.

He doesn’t want to wait anymore, watching your angelic face as you came around his thigh was almost enough to make him finish right then and there. He couldn’t lie, he’d obviously been with a few women as well over the last two years while he tried to forget you, but he could never forget you, no one could ever compare to his girl.

Leaning over to your side drawer to find a condom where he knows you both used to keep them, he comes up empty and a little confused.

“I got rid of them, I never brought anyone over anyway.”

And it was true, you always went to your flings places instead, you couldn’t stand the thought of them ruining the memories shared between you and Lando in that apartment, in that bed.

“Do you want me to go grab some, i can run down t-“

“You don’t need it, i trust you.”

He stared at you in shock, he could count on one hand the amount of times you’d allowed him to go in raw before, and he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

He didn’t have to think much longer, your hand reaching down to tease his already painfully hard cock was all the confirmation he needed that you were serious about it.

Swiping his tip through your wet folds to help lube him up, he lines his tip at your entrance and slowly pushes in.

Seeing you slightly wince as you readjust to his size, he’s quick to worry.

“If you need me to stop at any point please just tell me” he says in a hurry.

“Just need a sec Lan, i forgot how big you are…” you said with a whimper, not missing the smirk that flashes across his face.

After a few seconds to get comfortable again, you’re urging him to move and he doesn’t hesitate for a second.

Slowly fucking you with more and more of his cock with each thrust until he’s bottoming out, he can’t help but moan at how you feel around him.

“Baby I’m not going to last much longer if you keep squeezing me like that, feel so warm and tight around my cock, this pussy was made for me”

This has you clenching around him again, drawing out the most feral growl you have ever heard from the man.

In an instant, he’s pulling out of you much to your disappointment, only leaving you feeling empty for a moment while he flips you over onto your front and pulls your ass up, digging his fingers into your hips so roughly that you’re sure there are going to be bruises in the morning.

Good thing he knows you love being marked up by him.

As soon as your ass is up, he’s quick to shove his cock back in, not giving you a moment to adjust as he starts mercilessly pounding you from behind.

This new angle somehow hits deeper, feeling him hit your cervix wall over and over again, mixing pain with pleasure and making you scream for him.

“That’s it angel, scream my name, tell everyone who’s making you feel this fucking good”

As he continues his brutal punishment on your pussy, winding a hand around your front to use his always skilful fingers to rub tight circles on your clit and help you chase your high, he feels your walls start to tighten again as your legs start to shake and knows his won’t be far behind.

“Where do you want me to finish princess? I want you to cum on my cock like the good girl you are but i won’t be able to last much longer” he grunts as he continues his rough pace, getting sloppier with each thrust as you tighten more and more with each one.

“Fill me please, need to feel you inside of me, this pussy is yours and only yours” you pant out, only fueling him to get rougher and faster, pushing you over that edge.

“Scream for me baby, i want all of Monaco to know who you belong to” and with that, you’re seeing stars. His name being the only word on your lips over and over again while you clamp around his cock, feeling his release only seconds after your own as he bites your shoulder to muffle his own moans.

You lay there for a while in pure fucked-out bliss, Lando having moved to be beside you and move your head onto his chest while his arm is around you playing with your hair.

“So, what does this mean for us now?” You have to ask, as the doubt starts creeping in again.

“I know i have a lot to make up for but if you’ll have me, i want to be yours again. I want to stay over whenever you’ll have me here, i want to fly you out to races with me when you can, but mostly, i want to show the world how much i love you, show them what I’m doing this all for at the end of the day”

Tears start welling in your eyes, and all you can do is nod before kissing him again, showing him all the emotions you can’t verbally say right now.

Just as the kiss starts heating up for another round between you two, a loud knock on your front door interrupts the moment.

“Cunt” is all Lando can say in frustration, making you laugh before getting up and pulling your panties back on and chucking his playboy hoodie on to cover you so you can answer the door to the intrusion.

As he lays there and waits for you to return, he can’t stop smiling and thinking about all the ways he plans to make everything up to you.

Maybe a ring in the near future, to show how serious he is and always has been about his angel…

Before he can think much longer, your two puppies come bouncing into the room looking for him, having smelt his familiar scent the moment they got home.

He can’t stop the wide smile from forming on his face, this was it.

This was home, and he never planned on leaving again.

As you stepped back into the room, you couldn’t help the smile forming on your own face.

The boy you loved with every fiber of your being, squealing while being attacked with kisses and jumped on by your fur babies. Your joint fur babies. Your little family was whole again.

Walking over to him you stop before him on the bed, him reaching out to pull you down onto his lap as you sigh happily.

You turn to look him in the eye and hold his face gently, you were glad he was back.

“What are you thinking now babe?” He asks, seeing the all too familiar look in your eyes

“I was more than just a body in your passenger seat, and you were more than just somebody i was destined to meet. I see you go half-blind when you’re looking at me. I love you Lan.” Kissing him again, sealing all your feelings and fate, giving yourself over to him for good.

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elia-the-bibliophile · 2 days

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Mrs. Who? (Carlos Sainz Jr. x Female Reader)

Genre: Fluff

In which Y/N and Carlos’ wedding is fast approaching yet she has trouble remembering his infamously long and complicated name.

As the wedding day approached, your crisis over remembering Carlos' full name is proving to be rather irresolvable. Y/N spent hours rehearsing, repeating the lengthy string of names to herself, but they seemed to evade her memory each time.

"Mi alma," she began tentatively, fingers twisting nervously, "I have a confession to make. I... I can't seem to remember your full name." With a defeated groan, Y/N confessed aloud, her head sinking into her hands in frustration.

Carlos turned to her, a soft smile playing on his lips. "That's okay, amor," he replied, his voice gentle and reassuring. "It's quite a mouthful, isn't it? Don’t fret we still have time. I’ll make it fun!"

Over the next few days, they turned her struggle into a lighthearted game, with Carlos eagerly offering kisses whenever she stumbled over his name.

__________________________________________

As they sat down to dinner, Y/N took a deep breath and attempted to recite his full name. "Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro... um, wait, where was I again?"

Carlos chuckled, reaching across the table to take her hand. "Close, amor. You're doing great," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Let's try it together this time. Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro Cenamor Rincón Rebollo Birto Moreno de Aranda de Anteruriaga Tiapera Deltún."

Feeling a surge of determination. "Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro Cenamor Rincón Rebollo Birto Moreno de Aranda de Anteruriaga Tiapera Deltún," she repeated, stumbling slightly over the syllables but pressing on with newfound confidence.

Carlos's smile widened as he leaned in to place a tender kiss on her cheek. "Perfecto, mi amor," he whispered, his heart swelling with love for the woman he was about to marry. “See! You can do it.”

__________________________________________

As the warm water cascaded over her in the shower, Y/N found herself once again attempting to recite Carlos' full name. She had promised herself she wouldn't let a moment slip by without practicing, determined to be rid of her struggle before the big day.

Lost in concentration, she didn't notice the bathroom door creak open, nor did she hear Carlos' soft footsteps approaching. It wasn't until his warm embrace enveloped her from behind that she realized she wasn't alone.

"Practicing again, amor?" Carlos's voice, full with amusement, broke through her reverie.

Startled, she jumped slightly, turning to face him with a sheepish grin. "Uh, maybe just a little," she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Carlos chuckled, his arms still wrapped around her as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her temple. "You're adorable, you know that?" he said, his voice filled with affection.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of warmth flood your chest. "I just want to get it right," Y/N confessed, her gaze meeting his.

Carlos's expression softened, his eyes reflecting nothing but pure adoration. "You already have, preciosa," he said softly, his words echoing in the small space between them. He couldn't resist making a cheeky remark. "Well, if you keep practicing my name in here, we might have to schedule a shower session," he teased, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

Y/N shot him a playful glare, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Didn't you just have one like 20 minutes ago?" she retorted.

Carlos feigned innocence, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Eh, who's counting?" he replied with a shrug, earning a playful splash of water from Y/N in response.

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes affectionately. "Well, in that case, I guess I'll let it slide," a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Carlos grinned, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on her cheek before reaching for the shampoo. "Besides," he added, "I needed an excuse anyway to escape that meeting with Fred."

Y/N couldn't suppress a laugh, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "You're terrible," she teased, reaching for the soap with a playful swat in his direction.

“A meeting at 7 in the morning should be illegal," he exclaimed. "Especially when I could be here with you, practicing my name instead."

She shot him a playful look. "Well, lucky for you, you have a very dedicated fiancée who's willing to help you out," she replied with a wink.

With a contented sigh, Carlos leaned in. "The luckiest," he murmured.

__________________________________________

Y/N pressed the doorbell of her soon to be in laws' home, balancing a basket of freshly baked homemade bread in her arms. The door swung open to reveal her future mother-in-law, Reyes.

"Hi, Reyes!" Y/N greeted warmly, offering a smile as she shifted the basket slightly.

Reyes returned the smile, but there was a hint of playful reproach in her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you to just call me mamá?" she chided gently, stepping aside to welcome Y/N inside.

Y/N chuckled. "I know.. I know, mamá, I'm sorry," she admitted sheepishly, stepping over the threshold into the cozy foyer. "I'm still getting used to it, but I promise I'll try harder."

Reyes raised an eyebrow as she glanced at the clock. "You're awfully early, dear. Dinner's not until 8," she remarked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Y/N's cheeks flushed slightly as she shifted on her feet. "Actually, I was hoping you could help me with something."

"Of course, cariño. What do you need?"

Taking a deep breath, Y/N hesitated for a moment before blurting out, "I need your help practicing Carlos' full name."

Reyes's eyes widened in surprise before she burst into laughter, the sound filling the room with warmth. "Oh, you poor thing," she chuckled, shaking her head affectionately. "I apologize for the trouble I've caused you, naming my son that long. But come, let's get started. It's a tradition, after all." And with a playful wink, she led Y/N into the drawing room.

For the next hour, Y/N and Reyes worked tirelessly, repeating Carlos' full name over and over again until it flowed effortlessly from your lips. With each repetition, you felt a growing sense of confidence.

Unbeknownst to them, Carlos had finally arrived from playing golf, his footsteps quiet as he approached the room. Peeking around the corner, he couldn't help but smile at the sight before him: his beloved fiancée and his mother, heads bent together in deep concentration, practicing his full name.

Clearing his throat to announce his presence, Carlos stepped into the room, his expression a mix of amusement and affection. "Am I interrupting something?" he teased, eyes twinkling.

Startled, Y/N looked up. "I... we were just..."

Reyes cut in with a playful smirk, "Practicing, Carlos. Your fiancée is determined to get your name right."

Carlos's heart swelled with affection as he crossed the room to join them, enveloping Y/N in a warm embrace and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You're amazing, amor," he murmured, planting a kiss on her temple.

Then, he leaned back slightly, his eyes meeting hers with a soft gaze. "You don't need to go through all this trouble just to remember my name, you know," he said earnestly.

"I know, but I just don't want to embarrass you in front of your big family," she admitted, her voice tinged with genuine concern. "I want to make sure I get it right, especially on such an important day."

Carlos can’t help but chuckle. "Trust me, even if you do make a mistake, no one would even bat an eye," he reassured her. "I mean, people have been complaining about my name for years."

You couldn't help but snort at his candid admission. “Well, in that case, I'll just blame it on tradition.”

Carlos grinned, “Exactly.“

__________________________________________

On the bustling morning of the wedding day, Carlos Sainz Sr. found a moment of quiet reflection with his son, in the midst of the joyful chaos. As they stood together in the garden, surrounded by the wisteria blooms and the gentle rustle of leaves, Carlos Sr. couldn't help but tease his son.

"So, hijo," he began, his tone light but his eyes twinkling with affection, "are you absolutely sure your bride hasn't run off yet? Your mamá has filled me in on how nerve wracking it has been for her to practice your name."

Carlos laughed, the sound echoing through the tranquil garden as he shook his head in mock exasperation. "Oh, come on, papá," he replied with a grin, nudging his father gently with his elbow. "You know Y/N wouldn't do that, even if she tried."

But beneath the playful banter, there was a tender understanding between father and son, a shared bond that transcended words. And as they exchanged a meaningful glance, Carlos Sr. placed a hand on his son's shoulder, his eyes misty with emotion. "Carlos, I am beyond happy that you found the kind of love that your mother and I share," he said. "I believe that you made the right choice with Y/N."

Carlos smiled, feeling a swell of pride and gratitude for his father's words. "Thank you, papá," he replied, his voice cracking. "I couldn't have asked for a better role model than you."

With a gentle pat on his son's shoulder, Carlos Sr. nodded. "Now, let's go get you married then, eh?”.

__________________________________________

At the same time, in the bride's suite, amidst the flurry of hairbrushes, makeup palettes, and scattered bridal magazines, Y/N found herself in the midst of a full-blown meltdown. She paced back and forth, her hands flying in exasperation as she muttered to herself.

"Should I even be getting married if I can't remember my future husband's name?" she wailed, her voice tinged with panic. "I mean, what kind of wife can't even remember her husband's name?"

Her bridesmaids exchanged worried glances as they tried to calm her down, offering words of reassurance and tissues in equal measure. But Y/N was beyond reasoning, her mind consumed with visions of disaster and embarrassment on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.

"I'll be the laughingstock of the entire wedding!" she exclaimed, throwing herself onto the nearest chaise lounge in despair.

Her bridesmaids exchanged bemused looks, struggling to contain their laughter at their friend's dramatic outburst. But amidst the chaos, they knew they had to act fast to salvage the situation before the ceremony began.

With a collective sigh, they sprang into action, showering Y/N with comforting hugs, cups of soothing chamomile tea, and a hastily assembled flashcard deck of Carlos's full name.

Her best friend couldn't help but interject with a touch of humor. "Baby, even if you turned his name upside down, he'd still marry you in a heartbeat," she quipped. "That man adores you, butchered names and all." She said as she dabbed your eyes carefully before you ruin your elaborately done eye makeup.

Y/N draped her hand dramatically over her forehead. "I'm being a bridezilla, aren't I?" she moaned, her voice filled with equal parts self-awareness and melodrama.

Her bridesmaids exchanged amused glances. "Just a tad," one of them teased gently, earning a playful swat from Y/N in response.

Sensing the brewing crisis by sheer maternal instinct, Reyes swept into the room with all the grace and poise of a matriarch. Her presence commanded attention, her calming aura instantly soothing the tense atmosphere of the bridal suite.

"Alright, ladies, what's the commotion about?" Reyes inquired, her voice a perfect blend of concern and authority as she surveyed the scene before her.

Y/N's bridesmaids exchanged sheepish glances, unsure of how to explain their friend's theatrical meltdown. But before they could utter a word, Y/N herself stepped forward, a sheepish grin on her face.

“I think I might be losing my mind.” she confessed.

Reyes chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she crossed the room to envelop her daughter-in-law in a warm embrace. "Oh, bonita, every bride has a moment of panic on her wedding day," she reassured her, her voice filled with understanding.

"I remember feeling the same way on my wedding day," she admitted, her gaze drifting off into the distance as she recalled the memories of her own nuptials. "It was a beautiful day, much like today," Reyes began, a wistful smile gracing her lips. "But I was so nervous that I had a coughing fit right in the middle of the ceremony!”

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the image, her tension easing slightly as she imagined Reyes, the epitome of elegance, succumbing to a bout of nerves.

"But you know what?" Reyes continued, her eyes meeting Y/N's. "Despite the hiccup, it was still the happiest day of my life. Because at the end of the day, it's not about everything going perfectly—it's about the love that you share with your partner."

As if on cue, the distant sound of wedding bells began to chime, their melodic tones echoing through the air and signaling the start of the ceremony. Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sound, her nerves alight with excitement as she realized that the moment she had been waiting for was finally here.

Reyes placed a reassuring hand on Y/N's shoulder. "It's time, dear," she said softly. "You're going to be stunning out there."

With a deep breath and a newfound sense of resolve, Y/N rose from her seat, her gaze meeting Reyes's with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."

Reyes smiled, a carbon copy of Carlos’, “You're family now, hija," she replied. “And we couldn't be happier to welcome you into our hearts.”

__________________________________________

Y/N stood at the altar, heart racing with anticipation as she locked eyes with Carlos, looking so devilishly handsome he almost made her forget all her earlier tensions. Their hands intertwined, they stood side by side, ready to finally become husband and wife.

As the priest began the solemn words of the ceremony, Y/N felt a surge of emotion wash over her. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air as the priest posed the vital question: "Do you, Y/N, take Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro Cenamor Rincón Rebollo Birto Moreno de Aranda de Anteruriaga Tiapera Deltún, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she gazed into Carlos's eyes, her heart overflowing with love. This was it—the moment she had been preparing for, the moment she had feared and anticipated in equal measure.

But as she opened her mouth to speak, a sense of calm washed over her. She took a deep breath, summoning all the courage and determination within her. Carlos nodded in encouragement.

"I do," she declared, her voice miraculously steady. "I take Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro Cenamor Rincón Rebollo Birto Moreno de Aranda de Anteruriaga Tiapera Deltún to be my lawfully wedded husband."

The words hung in the air, a solemn declaration of love and commitment that seemed to reverberate throughout the church. And then, as if on cue, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their joyous voices filling the sacred space with an overwhelming sense of celebration.

Y/N couldn't help but smile as she felt the wave of support wash over her. She stole another glance at Carlos, her heart swelling at the sight of him. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he discreetly wiped them away with a handkerchief, his emotions raw and unfiltered.

Carlos fought to keep his composure, his lips trembling slightly as he struggled to contain the flood of emotions. Yet his gaze never wavering from Y/N's, his love for her shining bright in his eyes.

Carlos's voice boomed with pride and joy as he declared, "I present to you my wife, Mrs. Sainz Jr!" His words reverberated through the church, earning another round of applause and whistles.

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miirohs · 1 day

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cariño [c.s.z]

pairing: Mob Boss!Carlos Sainz x GN!Reader wc: 1.3k cw: blood, implied off screen violence an: i cannot write hurt/comfort, forgive me for this raw ahh fic... i actually did most of the spanish in here myself though my spanish sucks for someone whos been learning for two years. also this better do well or im actually going to ragequit (not).

“Carlos?” You sat up, eyes heavy as you turned your head in the direction of the bathroom.

There was a crack in the bathroom door, a sliver of light faintly illuminating the room. You could hear him clunking around inside, soft groans of pain reverberating around the room. He’d been in there for god knows how long, leaving you restless as you waited for him to somehow come back.

Pulling yourself out of bed, you tiptoed across the room, pushing the bathroom door open quietly.

A mess was all that greeted you.

You grimaced at the smell of iron staining the air, slightly pushing the gun that sat right at your feet. Various articles of clothing had been discarded all over the floor, a trail of blood stained the floors and the granite countertops.

Your eyes followed it to the bathtub, where you saw Carlos laying. His breathing was shallow, head tipped back against the edge of the bathtub, exposing the cuts all over the visible upper half of his body.

He wore nothing but a white undershirt, pants seemingly still on as they weren’t among the pile of clothes you’d seen earlier. Hearing you shuffled seemed to wake him from his dazed state, head turning in your direction. You froze.

The low lights seemed to cast a shadow over his eyes, barely hiding his bloodshot eyes, full of frustration and irritation as he stared at you.

“Creí haberte dicho que no me molestaras (I thought I told you not to bother me)…” He trailed off, annoyed expression on his face softening into something less harsh at the sight of you, “…Y/n. Is something wrong?”

“What happened?” You murmured softly as you approached him, causing him to try to sit up in the tub as.

“Nothing cariño, please go back to bed, I'm sorry for disturbing your sleep.” He groaned, offering you a faint smile as if to comfort you. In all honesty, it made you all the more unsettled at his disheveled appearance, like an itch you couldn’t seem to rid yourself of.

“Carlos, who’s blood is this?” The question made the smile drop off his face, a closed off expression taking its place as you got closer to him.

“You don’t need to worry about it.” He snapped suddenly, glaring at you as if daring you to take another step closer. “No más de esto, déjalo cariño (no more of this, let it go sweetheart).”

You didn’t listen to him, gently sitting yourself down next to the tub. The cold was a sharp contrast to the heat in your legs.

Looking over, his hand was covering his waist, teeth gritted in pain as you reached down to move his hand.

Pausing, you looked to him for confirmation and he nodded, despite his former reservation about you seeing him in that state.

Gingerly, you lifted his hand off, eyes widened at the sight of blood soaked in his shirt.

“Te lo dije (I told you),” He retorted with a frown, “I told you so, I didn’t want you seeing all of this.”

“Could you roll it up so I could at least see what's wrong?” You fretted, fingers lightly running up and down the ribbed material of his undershirt.

Exasperated, he obliged, pulling the material that seemed to stick to his skin off

“What the fuck happened…” You trailed off, breathing becoming uneven as you scanned the expanse of his wound, cutting through his skin and exposing the flesh. His ribs were bruised up, various other cuts around the area of the wound.

Worst of all, the coppery smell seem to burn your throat, tears welling up in your eyes at the sight.

“Breath, mí felicidad,” He groaned, bringing up his hand to your own and caressing your knuckles, “I’ve had worse happen to me, and you panicking will not make things easier.”

“But we should call the doctor-”

“We can’t,” He insisted, straining as he sat up to look at you, “You need to do it. There should be a first aid kit in the cabinets, can you get it?” Even as he was bleeding out there in the tub, he had such an intense gaze, mixed with some form of adoration as he watched you.

Reluctantly you got up, opening up the cabinets to shuffle through the boxes, hands eventually hitting something in the back. You pulled out a big black box, and he nodded as confirmation that it was indeed the right box.

You were shaking slightly as you set it down next to you, opening up the box. There were various supplies such as painkillers, bandaids, gauze, even sterilized materials resting at the bottom in their packets.

You shakily cleaned your hands, pulling out everything you could need before putting on the gloves you had found sifting through the box.

“What- what do i do now Carlitos?” You whimpered, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat as you pulled the antiseptic out.

He grimaced at the sight, but nonetheless shook his head, moving so he could show the wound to you.

“It stopped bleeding a while ago, so it needs to be cleaned so that it doesn’t get infected, then we can think about stitches.”

The thought made your stomach churn but you pushed aside the nausea, gently dipping a cotton ball in antiseptic and bringing it to his wound. He hissed as you wiped away the dirt and sweat, his jaw clenched tightly, but he didn’t protest.

At some point during the whole process, his hand had reached up to you, running up and down your arm rather gently for someone having a needle stuck in them. You could hear him wincing softly, licking his lips as you pulled the needle through his skin another time.

His grip on your arm tightened a couple times, but not to the point of making you uncomfortable, more as a way of telling you it hurt even if he put on a stoic expression.

The final stitch was made, and you could finally breathe a sigh of relief as you wrapped the gauze around his waist.

Done," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "You'll be okay now?"

“Sí, gracias mí amor (yes, thank you my love),” He murmured, offering you a kiss on the forehead as he hauled himself out of the toilet, seating you down on the lid as he limped to the sink. You sat in silence as he wiped the blood off himself, watching as he grimaced at the bruises and various other cuts.

The gravity of the situation was still fresh on your mind, a sense of unease as you watched him lean over the sink.

“What happened tonight…?” You stopped, noticing how he had tensed up once again. You had touched a sore spot, obviously one fresh in his mind. “If you don’t want to answer-”

“Some fucker brought a knife and tried to sabatoge me during the meeting, but I made sure to personally take care of him before I left the room. I couldn’t say the others were very happy with me, I think they were just unhappy it wasn’t me who dropped dead this time.” He chuckled incredulously, heart dropping to your stomach as the implications of what could have happened floated through your head.

He must have noticed your reaction, because his simpered smirk slowly turned into a look of realization about what his words must’ve meant.

“Ay cariño, i didn’t mean to worry you like that,” He cooed, reaching over to pull the hair out of your face, “I love you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch.

“Venga, dímelo (come on, tell me) cariño.”

“I do trust you,” You repeated to him, looking into his eyes as he broke into a faint smile, “just promise me you won’t come home like this, don’t die on me.”

He stroked your hair, bringing you closer to him. “And I will, mí amor, I will.”

You didn’t have to know of the things he did to others, the things he’d done just to come home to you. All that was important, at the end of the day, was that he’d always come back to you.

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leclerc-s · 1 day

Text

espresso with a side of depresso

series masterlist

liked by mickschumacher, bradleywillsimpson, zoyatorres and others

maejonesverstappen just wanted to put out a little song before coachella 🤎 espresso 4/11

view all comments

rhysjones i fear for my mental sanity every time you drop a new song.

estebanocon please no more songs with inuendos

↳ maejonesverstappen 🤭

↳ lancestroll we are so fucked.

user82 i too am also praying no more songs about max jones-verstappen's dick.

↳ user45 she has us all traumatized

isabellaperez what's the point in dropping music if i'm no longer around to terrorize jos?

↳ maejonesverstappen now whose choice was it to leave?

↳ isabellaperez THAT FACT IS IRRELEVANT!

alex_albon ma'am we are begging please stop singing about max's dick or your sex life.

user51 okay but she looks so hot? can max verstappen fight?

↳ maxjonesverstappen1 *max jones-verstappen does not condone hitting women but point me to the nearest track in your area and we'll settle this on the track like real men.

↳ user51 i'm a woman?

↳ maxjonesverstappen wasn't aware gender mattered on the track? but fine *we'll settle this on the track like real people.

danieljonesricciardo as long as it's not another nonsense or nonsense christmas we'll be fine guys. so fine.

↳ user30 this is the embodiment of the dog in a room on fire saying 'this is fine'

georgerussell63 no doubt she's getting ready to further traumatize us. twice just wasn't enough.

lewis hamilton my blood pressure has suddenly skyrocketed. anyone want to tell me why?

alex albon why do you always have to assume it's our fault? lewis hamilton it's always you people

isabella perez mae's dropping a new song.

lewis hamilton that explains so much. please tell me there's no references to max's dick.

mae jones-verstappen i can't promise that.

george russell WHEN WILL THE TORTURE END??

daniel jones-ricciardo probably when they have children to embarrass.

charles leclerc if max keeps winning everything, that'll probably be soon.

rhys jones woah! gross! child here!!

lando norris that's the circle of life baby jones! well, maybe not soon.

logan sargeant i think she enjoys torturing us with mentions of max's dick in songs.

max jones-verstappen can we stop talking about my dick please?

zoya torres TELL YOUR WIFE TO STOP WRITING SONGS ABOUT IT!

mae jones-verstappen 🤭🤭

daphne jones-ricciardo oh she is so proud of herself.

rowan todd of course she is. it's like pierre making a tripod joke.

fernando alonso sebastian i am begging you, please come back. put these animals under control.

sebastian vettel aren't you the one extending his contract to become the oldest driver in f1 histroy?

lewis hamilton hey, i'm still here!!

sebastian vettel he's older!

isabella perez i'm still going to torture jos. he's not get away from me simply because i no longer work for red bull.

rhys jones THE TORTURE JOS VERSTAPPEN CLUB HAS OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCED A NEW MEETING!!

max jones-verstappen stop torturing my father!

dulce perez but you two make it so easy for them

daphne jones-ricciardo children. all of you.

liked by maxjonesverstappen1, rhysjones, tatemcrae and others

maejonesverstappen triple shot...espresso out now ☕️

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user63 how the fuck did max verstappen end up with her?

isabellaperez oh wow. ditch the husband and marry me please!

↳ maejonesverstappen we can run away, ditch the husband and the boyfriend!

↳ isabellaperez say less baby girl

↳ oscarpiastri no, please say more.

↳ maxjonesverstappen i agree say more.

user09 oh she's so hot. please marry me.

user56 good thing your daddy made you get a boating license when you were 15.

nataliaruiz woah, how did verstappen ever end up with you??

↳ maejonesverstappen his insane yapping rizz somehow woo'd me.

user79 you're so pretty. i love you.

rhysjones how did you release a summer bop but daph is releasing the world's most depressing album?

↳ maejonesverstappen it's called versatility baby brother. you play a war criminal, daphne is depressed, and i sing about things i shouldn't.

↳ isabellaperez like max's dick!

baileywinters you gorgeous, gorgeous girl.

↳ maejonesverstappen 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

user61 it will always surprise me that daphne and mae are related. it's no surprise that mae's related to rhys but witch daphne's it's a shock.

liked by maxjonesverstappen1, rhysjones, tatemcrae and others

maejonesverstappen espresso btsoo ☕️

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maxjonesverstappen1 woah. marry me??

↳ maejonesverstappen maxie, we're already married.

↳ maxjonesverstappen i am one lucky man.

maxjonesverstappen1 that smile 🥰

maxjonesverstappen1 i love you

↳ user42 max jones-verstappen, certified simp for his wife.

↳ user28 he's never beating the trophy husband allegation. this is why he and daniel get along so well, they were made to be trophy husbands.

user56 good thing your daddy made you get a boating license when you were 15.

coreyfogelmanis how did that man end up with you??

↳ maxjonesverstappen1 stop bullying me!!

↳ coreyfogelmanis oh as her best friend it is my job to bully you

user10 i have never been more in love with women than i am now.

dulceperez that's one pretty girl. marry me?

↳ maejonesverstappen i would rather not be chased down by a rabid leclerc

↳ arthur_leclerc i am not rabid mae!

↳ louis_graham you chased me through the streets of monaco with a rolling pin because you thought i had a crush on dulce.

↳ arthur_leclerc that's not true!!

freya vettel me? you? beautiful blonde babies?

↳ maejonesverstappen i'm sure we could find a way

↳ maxjonesverstappen1 okay, mickschumacher come get your girlfriend before i block her.

↳ mickschumacher oh but this is so funny.

user06 SUMMER BOP RIGHT HERE!!

user17 oh mae jones-verstappen sure knows how to write a summer bop.

sebastian vettel why did you have to speak of honeybees that way?

mae jones-verstappen seb, please.

mick schumacher you might actually make him cry.

freya vettel he's definitely going to cry.

sebastian vettel i don't understand why we had to speak of honeybees that way?

rhys jones WHAT ABOUT THE NINTENDO? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO RUIN THAT FOR US TOO??

alex albon she ruined christmas now she's ruined honeybees and nintendos

mae jones-verstappen okay, now you two are being dramatic. i didn't ruin anything.

daphne jones-ricciardo how to you look sophie in the face? because it took me months to look grace in the face after i released dress.

penelope trevino it's a talent!

lando norris okay mayores, calm down

rowan todd and this is why i'm glad i never wrote a horny song about a french man.

bailey winters or me about a british man

pierre gasly wow imagine what it would be like if my girlfriend loved me.

rhys jones maybe she'd love you more if you stayed at red bull considering she's a red bull fan.

pierre gasly daniel, i swear to god, keep that kid away from me or i'll strangle him.

daniel jones-ricciardo okay, rhys, maybe we shouldn't attack the driver.

rhys jones he drives an alpine. i'll be safe.

logan sargeant lmao!

lance stroll who pissed off the pipsqueak?

arthur leclerc my guess is pierre.

pierre gasly all i said was percy jackson would get beat up by harry potter and now he's all pissy.

rhys jones BECAUSE YOU'RE LIKE YOU CROISSANT! PERCY GREW UP IN NEW YORK!! HARRY GREW UP IN FUCKING ENGLAND!

isabella perez yeah, i agree with rhys. there's no way harry beats percy.

charles leclerc but harry has a wand?

dulce perez and 9 times out of 10 he only uses expelliarmus.

logan sargeant have none of you read the percy jackson books? percy controls water, he 100% beats harry.

lewis hamilton this is just another way for you people to do the whole uk vs usa argument.

isabella perez WHAT'S A STICK GOING TO DO AGAINST A GLOCK?

fernando alonso i beg, please god give me strength to deal with these idiots

esteban ocon why are we having this argument?

rhys jones because i'm right and pierre is wrong. he just won't admit it.

mick schumacher i fear our brains need to be studied for science.

carlos sainz i think katniss beats them both.

rhys jones STOP CARLOS OR I WILL NOT HOLD BACK!!

daphne jones-ricciardo he's very passionate about this carlos. please don't make him attack you.

carlos sainz i retract my statement

rhys jones I'M RIGHT AND EVERYONE WHO DISAGREED WITH ME IS WRONG SO SHUT UP!

natalia ruiz never a dull moment with you people. never.

sebastian vettel i seriously question my life whenever someone sends a text that starts an argument in this group chat.

isabella perez YO NICO ROSBERG'S GOING TO BE IN CHINA!!

george russell BROCEDES REUNION INCOMING!!

rhys jones more like nico yapping about lewis

charles leclerc you can sit i my garage for the race weekend?

rhys jones LET'S GO!!!! A WIN IS A WIN BITCHES!!

max jones-verstappen traitor

daniel jones-ricciardo traitor

rhys jones I AM A TIFOSI FIRST AND BROTHER-IN-LAW SECOND!!

fernando alonso i don't have the strength to deal with this.

isabella perez remember to stream espresso!!

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @ijustgomessitupx @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault

¡leclerc-s speaks! i'm not going to lie, i've been watching grey's anatomy for the first time and that's why i haven't been posting much. but today's the day guys!! i also don't know how or why this devolved into what it did towards the end.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the honest series #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

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jessicaloons · 2 days

Text

Chapter 41:

I like shiny things, but I’d marry with Paper Rings…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

TW: spicy, adult content, 18+

Info: to fit my story line I swapped Austin with Mexico, the triple header will then be Mexico, Austin, Brazil

I stirred in the bed, the sunbeams sneaking through a gap between the curtains woke me up and I yawned.

"What time is it?" Charles whispered next to me and I turned a little, checking the time on my phone.

"Too early to be awake…" I mumbled, turning back, snuggling into him.

"Yeah? Then let’s sleep for a little longer." he kissed my forehead as I laid my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

"Sounds like a plan." I whispered, closing my eyes.

"Why is your heart racing like that?" Charles asked after a while and I opened my eyes "Are you okay?" he turned his head, looking at me.

"I think so…"

"You think so?"

"It’s nothing, let’s just sleep…" I closed my eyes again, but he put two fingers under my chin, tilting my head up.

"What’s wrong?" he asked gently and I sighed.

"Last year here in Mexico…" I said quietly.

"That’s on your mind?"

"A little? I mean when we did the track walk and we walked past the spot where it happened… I don’t know, it’s just felt weird and I thought back to when I was in the garage and- and I thought you were dead…" my voice broke and Charles pulled me closer into him.

"But I was okay. I am okay. It’s just a bad memory, nothing else! Don’t think about it anymore, it’s not good for you, especially not when you have to focus on the race ahead!" he kissed the crown of my head and I slowly nodded.

"Can you just promise me that you take care out there today?" I whispered after a while and heard him sigh a little.

"I can promise you that I will try. You know that’s all I can do…"

"I know. But please try to."

"I promise that I will."

Unfortunately keeping his promise was harder than it sounded like, when I watched the RedBull and Ferrari sandwich in front of me, sending Checo off track and Charles losing the lead to Max. I took a deep breath and focused on my own race which I ended in the same position as I started in.

"That’s P4. Good job." Pete radioed and I sighed a little.

"Yeah, it was the best I could do I guess. Good job on the team’s side, our pit stops are getting better with every race!"

"Team effort."

Austin next started out strong. A good quali and sprint race were making me feel optimistic for Sunday, the race didn’t bring the same result tho, with a P7 but it was the best we could do. I finished my interviews when I saw Charles looking frustrated, shaking his head.

"What’s going on?" I asked and he sighed.

"The FIA checked the planks on some of the cars… Lewis and mine apparently didn’t comply the technical regulations, so there’s a hearing."

"Are they for real? That was probably because we had two races at one weekend! Of course there’s some high wear on the skin pads! This track is fucking bumpy and with the stupid sprint race there’s not enough time to check it properly?" I said loudly and some people looked.

"Lizzie…" Julie warned and I sighed.

"Let’s go…" I grabbed his hand and lead him away, back to his hospitality "I would wait with you, but I’m not allowed in there…"

"Let’s go to Audi, I don’t want to wait alone…" Charles shrugged and I nodded.

"Okay." we walked back and waited, but I had a bad feeling and when Mia said that the final decision was made, I already knew by the look on her face what it meant.

"I was disqualified, right?" Charles voice was trembling.

"Yeah… you and Lewis…"

"Lewis as well? That means…"

"Carlos will move up into P3…" Mia said and Charles laughed.

"Of course… but hey, Lizzie, congrats to your P5 now." he patted my arm.

"Charles…" I began but he got up.

"No, it’s fine. It’s like this. Whatever. We can’t change it now anyways. I go to my race debrief, what’s there to debrief anyways but yeah… you go to yours. I see you later." he kissed me briefly and walked off.

"Can you please make sure that he’s okay?" I asked Mia and she nodded.

"Of course…" she walked off and Julie sighed.

"What a day…"

"What a day indeed."

"I don’t know if that’s a good idea…" Charles mumbled and I rolled my eyes a little.

"Oh come on! After that race? You deserve a little fun!" I said.

"Yeah but… I have to make some points in Brazil! I can’t mess this up!" he sighed.

"You won’t mess it up! It’s all going to be fine! We’ll be in Brazil right in time for the media day. It will be fun, you’ll see!" I smiled and after a while he sighed.

"Danny Ric and his ideas."

"It will be fun. Come on now, costumes!" I smiled excitedly but I didn’t like the look on his face "Why are you looking at me like that?" he just chuckled and I punched his arm "I swear, if you picked a slutty nurse or house maid costume… I’ll cut off your ba…" I began but got interrupted by his hysterical laugh.

"Oh cara mia, although I would love to see you as a slutty nurse or house maid, I wouldn’t want 500 other people to see that, too, there are parts of your body only I get to see… no, I picked something better!" he said and his little possessiveness made me blush.

"Alright. Then I’d say let’s exchange the costumes and get going?" I said, trying to contain my grin.

"Oh, what have you done?" Charles asked, voice laced with a tint of worry.

"You’ll see…" I chuckled and grabbed the garment bag "I’ll go to the bedroom."

As I zipped the bag open I sighed and took the costume out, now I preferred a slutty nurse or house maid costume. I googled for make-up and hair ideas when I heard steps coming my way and the door flying open.

"Absolutely not! No! I’m not wearing that!" Charles cursed and I looked him up, from head to toe.

"Holy shit, you look hot… umm… I’m… umm…" I was at a loss for words, he looked amazing. Hot. Sexy. Dangerous. Wearing all black.

"I’m not wearing a Mercedes race suit as a costume! Ferrari will kill me!" he groaned.

"Then I’m not wearing this…" I said and pointed at the costume on the bed.

"Fine. If I lose my job, it’s your fault!" he sighed and I chuckled.

"Oh come on, if anything it will only make them draft your new contract faster!" I said, still ogling him up and down. My insides began to stir and I was feeling hot, flushed "Go now, please. I have to get ready." my voice was raspy.

"Maybe I should talk to the design team and ask for an all black suit next season?" Charles chuckled and I shook my head.

"Go. Now. Thank you." I pushed him through the door and sighed "Slutty cheerleader here I go…"

Charles POV:

I watched how Lizzie danced with Kika, having fun, laughed.

"It’s been a while since I saw her this carefree?" Pierre nodded towards our girls and I smiled.

"Yeah… this whole thing with Diaz, then with Sainz, Singapore and the m…" I stopped abruptly and Pierre cocked an eyebrow.

"What happened in Singapore?"

"I mean, she could’ve won that race, silence the media who were slandering her again and again…" I lied and he nodded.

"Yeah, that’s true, it was a shame, honestly."

"It was. But look at her, she’s happy. That’s what’s most important."

The two girls pulled us on the dance floor and Lizzie threw her arms around my neck.

"Are you having fun, Charlie?" she asked swaying and I smiled.

"A whole lot… my beautiful cheerleader is here dancing with me after all." I replied and kissed her.

"Mhh me too. It was a good idea that we came here… alright your costume…" she mumbled against my lips and I tilted my head a little.

"What’s with my costume?"

"I don’t like how all the girls are staring at you because you look so devilishly handsome in this black race suit." she pouted and I had to laugh "That’s not funny!"

"Cara mia, you chose the costume!" I said matter of factly.

"I know… but still…" she groaned a little and I pulled her closer, kissing the corner of her mouth, down her jaw, feeling her squirming in my hold.

"Don’t worry, pretty girl. They might see me in the suit… but you’re the only girl seeing me out of it…" I whispered in her ear and I felt her shuddering.

"Let’s get a taxi…" she rasped out and I grinned at her like a devil "Now."

She clung to me, her arms around my neck, hands carding through my hair, leaving hot open mouthed kisses along the column of my neck, my jaw, my throat. My hands gripping her waist, pulling her close into me, fiddling with the fabric of her skirt, hiking it up her thighs. As soon as the elevator door opened I pushed her out, walking us fast toward our door, prying my hands from her waist, lifting my head up to see the security panel of the door. Lizzie looked up at the loss of my arms around her and the sudden movement of my head.

"Pretty girl, I have to open the door… stop pouting…" I groaned as she began suckling at the sensitive skin just below my ear.

"Hurry up…" she whined, pulling my head down, clashing her hot, wet lips onto mine, making me taste the sweetness of the cocktails she drank earlier. The door opened with a simmer and I tapped her thighs, making her jump a little, wrapping her legs around my waist on instinct. I walked inside, kicking the door shut with my foot. Holding her up at her thighs, massaging them, distracted by her kisses and licks around my neck I stumbled into the bedroom, where I dropped her on the bed. She tilted her head up, eying me from head to toe, hungry look in her eyes.

"You look so devilishly hot in that suit… mhhh why don’t you screw Ferrari and go for Lewis seat instead?" she said breathless and I slapped her thigh "Was that supposed to be a punishment? Try again…"

I chuckled and leaned down, holding myself steady above her, ghosting my lips over hers before I kissed the corner of her mouth, then kissed a line to her ear, breathing out, hot and heavy against it, making her moan a little.

"I think you would much rather enjoy a reward…" I whispered, gently biting down at her earlobe.

"How do I earn it?" she whispered back, her voice trembling with anticipation.

"I’m a Mercedes driver… I want to be cheered on by my personal cheerleader…" I grinned at her and she put one hand in my neck, pulling my head close.

"I can do that…" she breathed against my lips and nibbled at my lower lip before she pushed me off of her and got up, she then turned around and I sat up. She unclipped the Pom Pom’s from her waist and began to do a cheer routine.

"I love seeing you wearing my logo… it’s like I marked you… for everyone to see…" I muttered and she smiled seductively "But right now I wouldn’t mind seeing you out of it…" Lizzie understood the hint immediately. Throwing the Pom Pom’s my way. Sliding her hands up and down her sites, before she hooked her thumbs under the hem of the top, pulling it slowly over her head, revealing a dark red lace bra, making me choke up. I loved seeing her in red. And she knew it. She gently cupped her breasts before turning around, bending down, shaking her behind a little to reveal the sight of the matching slip underneath her short skirt. I felt how the suit got tight around my crotch, too tight, and threw my head back, closing my eyes. My breathing hitched when soft fabric hit my face and I opened my eyes, looking down at Lizzie’s bra in my lap. The second I looked up I lost all restraint and jumped up. Backing her up against the wall, making her whimper as the rough fabric of my race suit dragged along her bare skin, when I pressed my knee between her thighs, pushing up her skirt. I kissed her, rough and deep, almost frantic as the sweetness of her lips and tongue engulfed my senses. Sensations of heat, lust and love rushing through my body. I felt my growing bulge against her thigh, making her moan and me taking a deep breath. Lizzie’s hands began to fiddle with the zipper of the suit and she whined desperately as it wouldn’t budge.

"Don’t be so impatient, pretty girl!" I grinned and helped her, pulling the zipper down, letting her strip me off of it, the suit pooling around my waist, before pulling my shirt over my head. She pressed her firm breasts into my chest and I could feel her pebbled nipples against my skin as we moaned in unison. I pushed her skirt further up her thighs, exposing the dark red, lazy slip, cupping her heat with my hand, rubbing once. She bit her lips, suppressing a moan and I felt her knees buckling so I grabbed her thighs, hiking them around my waist, pushing her further into the wall. She let out a surprised huff and locked her eyes with mine, before she captured my lips in a searing kiss, it was sloppy, messy but above all desperate. It was suffocating and hot in the best way possible, but my growing bulge pressed against her hot core made me pull away, trying to catch my breath. Lizzie made a little sound of protest, before gripping my neck again, trying to pull my lips back to hers.

"Charles…" she whined and I pushed us off the wall, carrying her to our bed, falling back down on it, Lizzie above me. She blinked and sat up, straddling my hips, and I felt my heart palpitating, lungs clenching, as I saw her naked frame, looking like a true goddess. I put my hands on her waist, rubbing circles on it and with one swift move I turned us over, hovering now over her. Her hands shot up, tangling in my hair and pulling me closer. I only gave her a soft kiss on her lips before I started my way down, kissing her throat, collarbone, leaving tiny marks. My hands pushing her skirt down her legs as I kissed down the valley between her breasts, locking eyes with her, hungry and full of lust. I kissed my way further down, nibbled at her stomach making her clench it in the process. As I arrived at her core I kissed it above the fabric, making Lizzie bucking her hips, I gently laid one hand on her stomach and pushed her back into the mattress, waiting a moment for her to calm down, then I hooked my thumbs under the band of her slip and pulled it down with one smooth move, throwing it together with her skirt behind my back. A soft thud telling me both clothings landed on the floor.

"Ready for your reward?" I whispered and looked up at Lizzie, who nodded slightly, and I grinned, devouring her. Caressing her soft skin, making her moan, gripping my hair, pulling me closer to where she needed me the most.

"Don’t stop…" she whimpered as I stole the air from her very lungs, making her puff out a long breath "Close… so close…" she mumbled underneath her breath. After a short while, she arched her back, grinding her core into my face, whining and moaning in ecstasy, as she reached her climax. I let go of her, looking up at her gorgeous face, eyes closed, blissful smile on her lips, chest heaving with every breath she took, beads of sweat glistening all over her beautiful body. Her hands let go of my hair, searching around until they found mine, still holding her waist down. She intertwined our fingers, gently pulling me up and I obeyed, leaning down over her face, looking at the pretty girl underneath me, my pretty girl. She slowly opened her eyes, still out of breath.

"Hi…" she whispered, all of a sudden shy again, cheeks slightly blushing, as she looked at my face, bottom half glistening with her essence and she closed her eyes again, groaning quietly.

"Hi pretty girl…" I answered, gently nudging her nose with mine. She bit her lip and looked up at me with hooded eyes, then she leaned up, pressing her lips on mine, tasting herself on them. I had to grin into the kiss and she slowly pulled back, licking her lips. She pulled our intertwined hands to her lips, kissing my knuckles gently. Smiling her most gorgeous smile, falling back even more into her shy demeanour, she still wore at times. As I adjusted my position above her, my straining crotch, still covered in the race suit, brushed against her heat, and her breathing hitched. She looked down and gulped audibly.

"Take it off…" she said in a hushed tone, her fiery gaze burning a hole in my middle, before she put her hands on my hips, pushing the suit down herself. I helped her, sliding it off, letting it fall onto the floor. Her eyes found mine and she cupped my cheek with her hand, gently caressing it "I love you…" she purred softly and I laid a feathery kiss on her lips, getting more heated with every moment that passed and in that I could feel her soft core beneath my skin. She grabbed my hips, pulling me flush against her, an impatient whine on her lips as she greedily captured my bottom lip between her teeth. I felt my heart racing, my body buzzing all over with anticipation and locked eyes with her, gently freeing my lips from hers. Littering her face and jaw with tiny kisses, as I sucked on her collarbone she arched her back into me and with one last look in her eyes I let my arousal take over, making her moan loudly as our body’s melted into one.

"I love you too…" I muttered out, moaning as her heat clenched around me.

"We could’ve chartered a whole plane for all of us…" Pierre chuckled as I watched almost half the grid settling into their seats, occupying the entire first class.

"True that!" Daniel laughed, plopping down in his seat.

"Just so you guys know I want silence the next 10 hours. Utter and complete silence." Lando groaned and put a sleeping mask and his headphones on.

"And it’s all too much for little Lando Norris." Daniel imitated Crofty and we all laughed.

"I said silence." Lando murred and I cuddled back into my seat.

"Comfy?" Charles asked after a while and I shook my head, taking his hand and cuddling it to my chest.

"Better." I closed my eyes and heard him chuckle.

"Silly girl. Sleep now, we have a hectic day ahead of us." he said, kissing the crown of my head.

"Hectic weekend. And did you see the weather forecast? Damn…" I whispered.

"Yeah I saw it…" Charles said and I felt him tensing up a little.

"Hey, it will be alright, don’t worry, we’ll have a good weekend, you’ll see." I kissed the back of his hand and he smiled a little.

"I hope you’re right." he said and I sat up.

"Forget about Austin. It’s in the past. You’ll do amazing! So come on. Have a little nap with me." I smiled and Charles sighed. I could literally see the wheels turning in his head with how hard he was thinking about the weekend ahead.

"It’s just… I need to proof that I’m better. John Elkann will be in Brazil… he wasn’t supposed to be there, he planned to come to Vegas. But now he’s already in Brazil? What if it is to tell me that they’re not happy with my performance? That they won’t extend my contract?" he whispered and I sat up.

"Stop it now, okay! Why would they do that? They’re not stupid! Austin wasn’t your fault! Stop this nonsense now! He’s coming to Brazil because he wants to, there’s no reason behind it. Period." I looked at him determined and after a while he smiled a little.

Maybe you’re right." he leaned back, taking my hand in his again "What would I do without you?"

"I answered that question before, so you know the answer." I leaned into him, my head on his shoulder.

"I might sink and drown and die."

"Exactly."

"Was that Fred that I saw earlier?" I asked Charles when we walked to the car, late at Saturday night.

"Yeah… he’s here…" he opened my door and I looked at him "He said he wanted to talk to me after the weekend…"

"About what?" I waited for him to get in the car as well.

"He didn’t say about what. Just that we need to talk." Charles looked worried. I saw how he clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white.

"It’s going to be okay, you’ll see." I pried his hands away from the steering wheel and made him look at me "Fred loves you. Whatever is going to happen, it’s okay!"

"I hope so." he mumbled and started the car.

We drove in silence but I felt Charles’ anxiety radiating off of him, the tension in his shoulders visible. And although I tried my best to soothe his worries, to calm him down, he was as nervous as ever when he got into the car on Sunday. I watched horrified how he flew off in the formation lap and my stomach was in tight knots the whole race. As soon as I was out of the car, I was looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found.

"You text me as soon as you see him, okay?" I said to Andrea and he nodded, walking back into the Ferrari garage.

"Lizzie, we really have to go now… come on." Julie urged and I followed her to the media pen, where I gave my interviews in the fastest way possible and Julie chuckled when I looked at her after the hopefully last one "Okay, okay, we’re done! You can go and look now for Charles!"

"Thank you!" I almost sprinted away, looking for Joris and Andrea.

"He’s here." the latter said when I stopped in front of the Ferrari hospitality.

"Is he okay? He didn’t answer my texts…" I was slightly out of breath from running.

"He’s umm-… he’s in a meeting with Fred… and I think I saw John Elkann with them as well…" Andrea said slowly and my heart began to race.

"Okay- I mean… I guess I wait then?"

"That’s all we can do now." Andrea smiled at me when I saw Silvia coming our way.

"But you know what? I can wait at Audi as well…" I walked off before the evil witch of the easy reached us, making my way to wait for Charles.

The debrief felt like a whole eternity and when I finally left I saw a text from Charles, saying that I should wait at the car for him. I had a bad feeling and said good night to everyone, walking to the parking lot. My heart was hammering in my chest when two arms engulfed me from behind, but just a second later I relaxed, feeling it was Charles.

"Hey cara mia." he kissed the side of my head, spinning me around.

"You’re smiling?" I asked cautiously and he nodded.

"I’m smiling." he smiled, kissing me.

"What does that mean? Is everything okay?" I asked and he pushed me against the car, kissing me again "Charles!"

"More than okay. Brilliant actually… but I can’t tell you for now. It has to be secret until it’s officially announced…" he smiled brightly, opening the door for me, pushing me inside.

"And what? You think I will spill the beans?" I pouted, right when he closed the door and walked around the car to get in "Am I not trustworthy en-…" he silenced me with another kiss.

"Fred will become team principal next season. My new contract is already drafted…" he began and I squealed.

"Mattia is gone?" I asked and Charles nodded.

"Mattia is gone… well next season…" he said and I did a little happy dance.

"Does that mean that Sainz will be gone as well?" I asked big Charles shook his head.

"They didn’t mention him. And I honestly don’t care. Since Fred joined it was planned for him to take over. That’s why he was so highly involved in the making of next seasons car. It’s his car. And he said it’s the car to win the championship with… or at least he hopes so." his most beautiful, dimple showing smile was back.

"Charles Leclerc, world champion 2024. I called it first." I said happily and he shrugged his shoulders.

"We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves now, cara mia." he chuckled, starting the engine.

"Maybe you don’t… but I will! Mark my words, world champion of 2024, Charles Leclerc, my gorgeous boyfriend." I smiled "Now I’m even more happy for our trip to LA."

"Yeah, me too, it will be great."

Charles POV:

"What are you doing?" I plopped down next to Lizzie on the sun island and she showed me her iPad.

"These are the three options for the kitchen… I love them all, but the third one is my favourite. I always wanted to have an all white kitchen with black hardware but the kitchen island in all black? Waterfall edges of this beautiful white granite with black veins? The same we use for the countertops? Damn Carla really had an amazing idea here."

"That was Carla’s idea?" I asked and she nodded "I have to so, they all look stunning, but yeah, the black island really stands out? What tiles? The other options had tiles."

"I was honestly thinking to use the same granite as backsplash? Like a big fat slab of stone… here…" she tapped on the display and the model changed.

"Yes. 100 % yes. It looks amazing! Wow. Send it to Léon That’s our kitchen." I saw how happy and giddy she was about this decision and kissed her cheek "What else? Tell me you have more!"

"So, we already decided for the guest bathrooms and both powder rooms… but do you want to see my vision for our bathroom?" she asked and I nodded "Okay, here. I saw this bathtub and fell in love. Look at the size of it! Here’s the layout." she showed me the bathroom, the shower, big enough for a handful of people, the two vanities, a dressing table in between and the huge bathtub. It looked perfect.

"Perfect… like honestly! Lizzie you outdone yourself." I pulled her into me, smiling at her blushed cheeks "I can’t wait to move into our home together. It’s going to be so perfect. You are so perfect."

"Oh stop. I had a lot of help from Carla and our mum’s…" she almost whispered and I tilted her head up.

"Yeah but it’s your vision they help you with. You make this place our home." I kissed her, feeling her melting under my touch.

"Oh for fucks sake! Take a room! Ugggghhhh… I’m leaving!" Andrea groaned and I laughed.

"Wait for me, I’m not staying behind with these two lovebirds! Let’s go to Six Flags alone!" Joris said, following Andrea.

"Noooo! Wait for me!" Lizzie scrambled off of me and I huffed.

"Excuse me?" I looked at her.

"Wait for us?" she said meekly and grinned.

"Exactly. Wait for us!" we got up and followed the guys outside.

"I heard you’re excited for all the roller coasters." Lizzie teased Andrea and he laughed nervously "It’s okay. I’ll hold your hand when it get’s scary."

"I can also just wait for you guys…" he began but Lizzie shook her head.

"Nope. You’re coming with us on the rides! It will be fun! Believe me!"

It was fun. For Lizzie. For me. Not for Andre. Also not for Joris. Lizzie made her puppy eyes and made us ride everything there was and the colour from Andrea and Joris’ faces drained with every new ride more and more.

"Cara mia, I think you’ve exhausted them…" I whispered when we drove back to our Airbnb in the evening, the two guys half asleep in the backseat of the car. Lizzie turned and looked at them, one paler than the other.

"I’m sorry boys…" she chuckled, smiling apologetic.

"No you’re not!" Joris groaned.

"I can’t wait for when it’s time to go racing again!" Andrea sighed, leaning his head back "Thank god we’re leaving in two days, before you kill us."

"I’m definitely not getting paid enough for being tortured like that by your girlfriend…" Joris murmured and I had to laugh.

"Oh come on! It wasn’t that bad!" I said and they both looked at me pointedly.

"Your girl is a crazy spitfire and you know it!" Andrea said and I turned to Lizzie, grabbing her hand.

"That she is." I kissed the back of her hand and watched her blush "My girl."

"Coming to you Lizzie, what do you think of the race weekend here in Las Vegas?" Tom Clarkson asked and I looked over at Max, who looked just as disinterested as I felt.

"Honestly? Max said everything there is to say, I don’t have much to add. It’s all a big show for nothing. It’s turning into a circus, gets bigger and bigger when we all come here for one reason only: we want to race. We don’t need all of this stuff around. Events left and right. The sport itself is interesting enough. We don’t need all this bullshit around we get to see here." I said and Max nodded laughing.

"Alright, thank you, Lizzie. We open the floor now for some questions."

I didn’t listen to most of the questions and the ones for me were basically all the same, how I liked it here, what I expected from the race. When I walked out with Max and Charles, Max and I couldn’t even stop shit talking the whole event, leading to Charles rolling his eyes, saying that we were too dramatic.

"No Charlie boy, we’re not dramatic. We want to race. And not get paraded around like a freaking attraction…" I sighed.

"Listen to your girlfriend mate!" Max chuckled as our ways parted and he walked towards the RedBull hospitality.

"You should stop being so negative! Maybe the weekend will be great! I know, the opening ceremony was maybe a little bit too much, I agree but overall? The atmosphere is amazing, don’t you think?" Charles nudged my shoulder.

"Yeah maybe… let’s see how the racing is, you know? Racing? The reason why we’re here?" I looked at him and he pinched my side.

"You’re so funny… not… you’ll see! The racing will be great! How often do we get an entire new track just like that?"

"Umm- just last year in Miami?"

"Oh for fucks sake, Lizzie! Come on! It will be fun! You’ll see!" Charles rolled his eyes.

But what I saw was a messed up Friday on a track that had to be checked entirely for its drain covers and made us wait for for what felt like a whole eternity to come back for free practice 2.

At least the Saturday started better and when Charles made it on pole, a big smile on his face, I decided to swallow down my grudge against the track, because it looked like he was really enjoying racing here in Vegas.

"So? What do you say? Will you be the first winner of the Las Vegas GP?" I asked Charles when we were walking back from the national anthem and he laughed.

"I sure hope so, but you never know, Max is right behind me, then you, Checo… it won’t be easy!"

"And don’t forget Danny Ric! He made it just in time to be ready to race here in Vegas! And he’s starting on P6!" I said right as said driver pushed his way through us.

"Watch it lovebirds…" he chuckled and I slapped his arm.

"Oh you better stop, I saw you yapping all over my sister just an hour ago…" I said and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yeah yeah, whatever!" Charles laughed and kissed my cheek "Good luck, cara mia, Daniel. Let’s have some fun out there."

Fun? No. Crazy? Yes. The start already saw 4 cars retiring with Checo, Lewis, Norris and Sainz all out of the race. The red flag was waved and George, Oscar and Alonso all had to get some new front wings and tyres. As the race re-started it took only three more laps for the next yellow flag and safety car, Alonso being the fifth car to retire.

"It’s crazy! How many cars are out already? 5?" I radioed.

"Yes 5. Don’t make it 6, focus on your race, please." Pete replied and I chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah…"

I continued, watching Charles and Max battle hard for the race lead.

"Lizzie, red flag, Magnussen out. Careful, there’s a lot of debris." Pete radioed right as I drove over said debris.

"Fuck, I think I’ve damaged my floor. Is Kevin okay?"

"He’s okay. Return to the pits, we need to check your car."

As soon as I was back in the pits and saw Matt’s face when he got up from the floor I knew it was over. I had to retire.

"I’m sorry, Lizzie. It happened so fast, I couldn’t warn you any earlier." Pete apologised as soon as I was out of the car, taking my helmet off.

"It’s alright, it’s not your fault. It sucks but it’s like this." I patted his back.

"Oh wow, Charles 2.0…" he chuckled and I laughed, right when Liam appeared out of nowhere.

"I’m sorry Lizzie." he hugged my waist and I ruffled his hair a little.

"It’s okay, now let’s watch Charlie and Daniel, shall we?" I picked him up and he nodded.

"You have to go the interviews first…" Julie reminded me and I sighed.

"Alright, I’ll be back soon Liam." I kissed his cheek before I put him down on the stool in front of dad, while mum hugged me.

"I’m sorry…" she whispered.

"No, I’m sorry! The first race in a while that you attend and I bottle it."

"You didn’t bottle it. You were unfortunate!" Dad side hugged me and I sighed.

"Yeah, maybe… now let’s hope that Charles wins it and Danny keeps his podium." I shrugged and followed Julie to the media pen.

The interviews were quickly done and on my way back I watched Shima and Joris all cozy in the almost empty Ferrari hospitality. When they saw me they pulled away from each other and I had to laugh. It seemed like she wasn’t here just to see me after all. I walked back into our garage, just in time to see the final lap, Max winning the race, followed by Charles and Daniel.

"He almost won." Liam sighed and I nodded.

"He did. But he had an amazing weekend, just like Danny, we can be proud of them!" I said and he nodded, playing with something in his pocket.

"Can we go to the fence? I want to congratulate them!" Liam said and I smiled.

"Of course, Bubba, let’s go."

I sat Liam on the fence and we looked up at the podium, where Max, Charles and Daniel were spraying the champagne and having a party of their own.

"It’s been a while since I saw him that happy!" Sissy said and I looked at her.

"Oh come on! That’s just a teeny tiny bit more than when he’s with you and Liam!" I said and bumped her shoulder.

"Believe me, that was a mask for a long time… losing his seat was the worst thing that could’ve happen…" she almost whispered it as she looked up again, tears in her eyes. As if Daniel felt that she was looking he turned around, forming a little heart with his fingers and sending it to my sister "Look at this dork!"

I smiled as I saw how my sister blushed. The truth was I’ve never seen her more happy than with Daniel. And with Liam loving him wholeheartedly as well, I knew that she finally found the one. The one that was now approaching us, with the biggest grin on his face, scooping up Liam and whispering something into his ear, the little lad nodding excitedly and handing him something. Daniel handed him over to Charles, who made big eyes as Liam whispered something into his ear. I watched how Daniel swooped up Sissy, twirling her around, saying something to her.

"WHAT?!" she exclaimed loudly and Daniel only nodded and kissed her, then sat her down looking in her eyes "You‘re kidding, right?"

"Hell no! Let’s do it tonight!" he said and took her hand and I almost choked as I saw him slipping a ring onto her finger "Everyone is here! I don’t want to wait a single day! What are you saying?"

"I-I umm…" she looked frantically around, Charles sat Liam down on the ground and he ran up to her.

"Say yes Mummy! YES!" he was overly excited and Charles hugged me from behind, watching what was happening.

"Yes. YES!" Sissy said and Daniel kissed her, before he scooped up Liam and hugged them both.

"What did just happen?" I whispered and Charles kissed my temple.

"Danny Ric just happened." he chuckled and I smiled.

"I don’t even have a dress? This is crazy! Why are we doing this? I mean… come on! We could wait! How are we supposed to plan a wedding in what? 12 hours? It’s the middle of the night? What are we doing?" Sissy was pacing back and forth while Mum, Shima and I just sat there, listening to her rambling.

"It’s Vegas! I think finding a dress won’t be too difficult? Shima’s here, she can fix anything you find into something great! Maybe not your dream wedding dress, but a beautiful one nonetheless? And again, it’s Vegas! This city never sleeps! Planning a wedding shouldn’t be too hard? I mean we are in one of the fanciest hotels already? Let me check if they have a nice location where we can celebrate? Finding a chapel won't be too hard either…" I chuckled and Mum nodded.

"Yeah and it’s not like we’re a whole lot of people? It's doable, maybe it's not the wedding of your dreams… bute he’s the man of your dreams, or not?” she looked at Sissy who smiled.

"You're right! Let’s plan!" she said and sat down.

“Alright, first things first. Guests, I need to know how many people we are to find a location… you and Danny and Liam, his family, that’s 5, us, that’s another 5. Wait I text him if he wants to invite any of the other drivers… alright, let’s talk dresses, Shima that’s your part…" I made a note on my phone, then looked up, Sissy and Mum looking at me with big eyes "What?"

"Nothing… you’re doing great, can I go to bed and you do the rest?"Sissy chuckled and I laughed.

"Nope. You figure out what colours you want, what flowers and stuff like that, while I… oh Danny texted… okay, small wedding, only Max, Christian, his wife and Pierre with Kika… that makes… 18?” I checked my phone and wrote down the names.

"Joris?" Mum said and we all grinned at Shima. "Yes!" Sissy looked at me and I wrote them down.

"I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that…" Shima mumbled and I laughed.

"Oh shut it… you think you’re subtle, but let me tell you, you’re not… whatever is going on with you and him… we know… so 19."

"Whatever… dresses… I know some designers from here, I text them, let’s see what we can organise? I mean, it’s 2am they won’t answer until the morning, but yeah…" Shima began typing away on her phone.

"Alright, I need a time, when do we start?"

I looked at Sissy and Mum.

"Umm-… maybe 6pm? So everyone can have a little sleep, maybe? I mean, it won’t be a big and long ceremony? It’s Vegas, after all it’s going to be fast and funny?" Sissy said and I nodded.

"Okay… so we are… 19 people? Yeah? That’s doable I guess. I go downstairs to check the front desk… ask them if they have like a little ball room? I don’t know? Something fitting for a wedding? You think about dresses and I don’t know, colours? Food? The other stuff…" I got up.

"What other stuff?" Mum asked and I shrugged.

"I don’t know, you’re married, you planned your wedding, so you know what to do…" I left the room, right when Charles called.

"Hows the wedding planning going?" he asked and I laughed.

"I’m on my way to the front desk, asking for a room and someone who can marry them…"

"Elvis might be a good option." Charles laughed.

"Very original- ha ha… no seriously. Maybe they offer like an all inclusive last minute deal? I don’t know… we’re roughly 20 people, it should be organisable, no?" I sighed a little, leaning against the elevator wall "When are you coming back?"

"Soon, we’re just trying on some suits, Danny found a tailor that’s still open, Vegas, I swear… is the dress shopping also this easy?"

"Shima knows some designers from here, she contacted them, but yeah, probably the real process starts in the morning, but it’s fine, we get there." I yawned a little, entering the lobby "Text me when you’re in your way back, I’m at the front desk now."

"Alright, cara mia, see you later!" he hung up and I walked up to the front desk.

"Good morning, Miss Doetterer, how can I help you?" the lady said and smiled at me.

"Umm- this might sound crazy… but I need a room, location, whatever to held a wedding. Ceremony, reception, party all in one place would be amazing. For around 20 people, today at 6pm?" I said cautiously, expecting the blondes smile to drop.

"Oh believe me, this isn’t even close to the craziest things I’ve been asked for in the past… this is Las Vegas after all, planning a wedding in less than… 15 hours? We can do that." she said, her smile got even brighter "Is it for you and Mr. Leclerc then?"

"What? Oh no- no! It’s for my sister and Danny Ric… umm Daniel Ricciardo." I said hastily and she nodded.

"Very well, let’s plan your sister’s one of a kind Las Vegas wedding then."

"Man, I love Vegas. Let’s plan!"

As I watched my sister and Daniel share their first dance as husband and wife I had to smile. We did it. We planned an amazing wedding. The room looked elegant and classy. The cake looked delicious. The flowers were beautiful. But above all Sissy looked stunning. The dress Shima organised and altered here and there was simple, classy and timeless. Liam in his mini suit running around, looking adorable as ever was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Did I mention before how beautiful you look? That dress is just… wow… what a nice little black dress." Charles whispered in my ear, spinning me around, standing behind me.

"You look not to bad yourself, handsome." I chuckled and he hugged me from behind.

"I’m proud of you. You did all that in less than what? 12 hours?" Charles said, putting his chin on my shoulder, swaying us a little.

"The hotel did most of the job, I told them what we wanted, Sissy said the colours and flowers, Shima took care of the dress and Mum took care of the menu. Given all the input to the hotel, they did the biggest chunk of work." I shook my head a little.

"But you were managing it. And you did amazing. It’s a beautiful wedding. Makes me wonder-…" he stopped abruptly and I turned my head a little.

"Makes you wonder what?" I looked at him.

"Makes me wonder how our wedding will be one day… when you have time to plan it for weeks… considering what you did in a couple of hours."

"To find that out, you need to ask me to marry you first." I chuckled.

"Oh, don’t worry cara mia… I’m planning to." he kissed my cheek and then winked at me, before he left, picking Liam up who tried to have a go at the cake "Little munchkin, you have to wait!"

"But I want now some cake! It looks so fluffy and yummy!" Liam pouted.

"You’ll get your slice, don’t worry! You just have to wait a little!" Charles laughed and Liam sighed.

"Okay… but cakes are the best thing at parties, we should eat them first." he grumbled and walked off, climbing in dad’s lap, probably lamenting his suffering.

Liam was right, the cake was just what he said. Fluffy and yummy. After his second slice and some more dancing mum and dad, bid their farwell, taking Liam with them, right when some waiters brought in a couple of new bottles of champagne.

Daniel grabbed a bottle and began shaking it, before he banged it on the table

"I’d say, let’s party!" Danny popped the bottle and the night began with champagne showers.

Pain. A mind-numbing, throbbing pain. Like someone was scratching at my eyeballs from the insides, a jackhammer doing its worst inside my brain. My stomach began to churn and I groaned, trying to untangle my legs from the sheets and Charles legs, his arms holding me tight around the waist.

"Charles… let go of me…" I whispered, a loud snore my answer "Charles I’m serious… I have to…"

"What is it?" he groaned.

"Have to… throw up…" was the only thing I could manage to breathe out when he let go of me immediately and I stumbled out of bed, tripping over something on the floor "Fuck." I crawled to the bathroom, making it just in time to empty my stomach into the toilet.

"Lizzie? Are you okay?" Charles hoarse voice wafting through the fog in my brain.

"Peachy. Just peachy." I mumbled, slowly getting up from the floor rinsing my mouth "I need…"

"What do you need?"

"I don’t know…" I splashed cold water in my face, feeling some short lived relief from the drumming inside my head "I need pain killers…" I grabbed two hand towels and soaked them in cold water, wrung them out and stumbled back to bed, tripping again over something on the floor.

"What the fuck…" I groaned.

"What the fuck…" the something hissed.

"Pierre?" I sat up, blinking

"Yeah?" he mumbled and Charles switched on the night stand lamp.

"What the fuck are you doing on the floor? In our room?" Charles asked, his voice groggy.

"Don’t know. Don’t care. Switch the light off." he turned away, pulling his blanket over his head.

"There’s a couch. Sleep there!" I whispered but saw how he shook his head.

"Floor is cold. Good for my head." he mumbled and I sighed.

"Alright…" I slowly scrambled back to the bed and climbed in, letting the cold towel

flop on Charles face, he flinched but chuckled a little.

"Thanks, cara mia." he moved over and kissed my cheek.

Half sitting, half laying I rummaged through my bag on the nightstand, looking for some painkillers and popped out a pill as soon as I found them, swallowing it down with some water.

"What happened last night?" I whined, lying back, covering my forehead with the cold towel.

"Your sister and Danny Ric got married." Charles yawned.

"Fuck yes they did!" Pierre laughed on the floor.

"And why are we half dead?" I asked.

"Because none of us knows their limit apparently…" Charles groaned.

"Nope." Pierre half laughed half snored "Can we now maybe be quiet for a bit? My head hurts…"

"Here…" I grabbed the painkillers, popped another pill out and threw the blister then at him, followed by a bottle of water rolled over the floor.

"Ouch!" Pierre whined, when the bottle was stopped by his head "Thank you…"

"Here, for you…" I handed Charles a pill.

"You’re an angel." he kissed my cheek and turned around, grabbing his water.

"What are you even doing in our room, Pierre?" I asked, watching him all sprawled out on the floor, cheeks smushed into the cold marble floor.

"I don’t know… we were at the wedding. We were gambling… we were drinking… we were at a club… we were drinking… we were gambling… I remember In’and’Out Burger and then this cute little white house where we took some pictures. And I swear Elvis was there as well…"

"I wouldn’t say no to a burger…" I whispered and Charles chuckled.

"You get one as soon as we get up…" he kissed my shoulder "Which will be soon… our flight is in a couple of hours."

"How much time do we have left?" I yawned.

"Wait… our flight is at 4… and now it’s… it’s almost 12!" Charles sat up and I flinched "Fuck… sorry, cara mia. But we have to pack, get ready and…"

"For fucks sake! We have time! Shut up now…" Pierre groaned.

"Not agreeing how he said it, but agreeing with what he said…" I shrugged, pulling the blanket over my head "30 minutes… come on…"

"30 minutes! Not one minute longer!"

I sighed contently and closed my eyes. Feeling the throbbing in my head subsiding slowly as the cold towel did its job. The loud snores from Pierre were the only disturbance and as I turned to grab one of the pillows beside the bed to throw at him, I touched my phone the screen illuminating half the room and my look fell on the time.

"FUCK! FUCK!" I shouted, Charles and Pierre both flinching and sitting up "We overslept! It’s almost 2!"

"FUCK!" both boys exclaimed.

Pierre scrambled up, trying to stand looking around like a lost puppy.

"Where is my keycard? Why am I even here." he groaned, searching through his pockets "Fuck."

"Call Kika!" I suggested and Pierre took out his phone, calling his girlfriend.

"Okay, let’s pack…" Charles mumbled, opening up our suitcases, throwing in everything he could find "Here…" he threw one of his hoodies at me, while I grabbed some fresh clothes "Get ready in the bathroom, I handle this mess…"

"Hey! I’m no mess!" Pierre looked at him and I chuckled, disappearing into the bathroom.

My vision was still blurry and I sat down on the bathtub edge, brushing my teeth. I stripped off my clothes, put on some socks and leggings before I washed my face. As soon as the second wave of cold water hit my face and I wiped my eyes I looked in the mirror, my eyes immediately falling on the ring on my left ring finger.

"What the fuck…" I gulped, starring at the silver ring.

"Yeah… what the fuck…" Charles walked slowly inside, holding up his left hand, the same ring adorning his finger.

"What the fuck happened last night…"

Chapter 41 - I hope you guys are feeling as hot after reading, as me when I was writing it 🤭 the infamous Las Vegas race giving us really everything there was to get, including one (two?!) wedding(s) … 👀

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeholt3 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09

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landoom · 2 days

Text

F1 FANFICS REC LIST - High School/Uni AU's - Part I

Pretty Boy in a Pretty Skirt (7541 words) by vragek Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: Lando and Oscar have been roommates for two years and are in tune with each other. After a little miscommunication at one of Oscar's games, where Lando wears a skirt and gets harassed by some drunks and is saved by Oscar, Oscar ignores Lando in favor of going to a party. Expecting Lando to want to end their friendship, Oscar is up for a surprise when he returns home drunk in the middle of the night with a crying Lando. College AU where there's a bit of miscommunication because they're idiots and they make-up and fuck. Simple as that

oOoOoOo

Suddenly I See (3692 words) by yayhwan Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Charles Leclerc/George Russell, Charles Leclerc & George Russell, mentions of Carlos Sainz & Lando Norris Summary: Hearing whispers about the hot new exchange student from Monaco is nothing compared to seeing him in person. George is whipped, there’s no denying it.

oOoOoOo

you got me (16655 words) by NovaCloud Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen Summary: When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.

“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”

The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples.

Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).

oOoOoOo

new start, new life (2415 words) by Quagswagging Rating: Explicit Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr Summary: Max just moved to a new dorm with his best friend Lando to start university. He is more than happy to share a room with Lando, and visit Lando's boyfriend Carlos, who slowly is becoming a Pack Alpha for Max. The only thing Max still has to get used to is Carlos's roommate Charles, who smells almost too good…

oOoOoOo

you can take me hot to go (7199 words) by Anonymous Rating: Explicit Relationships: Alexander Albon/Logan Sargeant Characters: Logan Sargeant, Alexander Albon, George Russell (Formula 1 RPF) Summary: George grins. “Mate, you have a crush on your frat boy student,” he laughs, delighted by the turn of events. “Shut the fuck up,” Alex hisses. “I do not!” or alex is a TA and logan is his very eager, very american student

oOoOoOo

I think I'm gonna like it here (4762 words) by dr3writings Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Daniel Ricciardo Summary: Lando doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, one second he was enjoying his overly sugary coffee in the corner of the coffee shop he just discovered. The next the coffee is all but forgotten and he’s staring transfixed at the barista dancing behind the counter, no literally, dancing.

oOoOoOo

like any real love (5363 words) by strongestavenger Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Alexander Albon/George Russell, Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen (background), Alexander Albon & Lando Norris & George Russell & Max Verstappen Summary: College has proven to be more of an interesting journey than George ever anticipated. Lando is surrounded by idiots, and Alex is just hoping for the best.

oOoOoOo

something 'bout you (i can hold on to) (10726 words) by dementations Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Summary: Lando often has many ideas. Oscar, to his chagrin, often ends up the unwitting participant of them. As graduation draws nearer for Lando, he's got possibly his most ambitious idea yet - and there's one person he wants to drag along for the ride.

MASTERPOST

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf fic #fic rec #fic rec list #f1 fic rec

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jamminvroomvroom · 1 month

Note

4k celebration

i want to see feral lando. dom lando. choking and degrading and rough lando. maybe a bad race, maybe flirting with another driver. weeknd vibes lando. rough rough rough lando.

heat.

ln x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which lando fucks you until the sun comes up :)

i am. feral. there are no words to describe how unhinged i am over this, this is super self indulgent and i cannot thank you enough anon hehe - lemme know what y’all think ily! <3

songs to set the mood: earned it by the weeknd, novacane by frank ocean, heaven angel by the driver era

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp with a bit of plot, choking, crying, swearing, overstimulation, neck? riding? (hehe), degradation, a slap or two, soft dom!lando, also not so soft dom!lando (he switches up a bit), just feral unhinged vibes

2k words

foreglow:

the glow of light appearing in the sky preceding sunrise

the sunrise casts a tangerine foreglow over your bodies, the bed, everything the light can touch.

lando’s slumped against the headboard and you’re sprawled over his lap, legs hooked over his, with his hand working between your thighs.

it’s been hours. he’s had you spread out for him, countless positions and locations utilised. you were paying for your behaviour over the race weekend, but really, it was all his fault.

he’d been too cocky, looked too good, the australian air getting to his head. you’d been glowering at him since you’d arrived in the land down under, watching in erotically charged horror as he paraded around looking, to put it simply, slutty. tight shorts, arms out, neck on display for all to see. his fucking neck. god, it looked so thick, flexing every time he turned to smirk at you. the heat rendered you delirious, and so did he.

and you couldn’t even think about that fucking daddy bracelet he’d been sporting.

you decided you needed payback, in the form of some carefully constructed, harmless flirting with everyone from the mechanics to the guys on the pit wall old enough to be your father. but lo and behold, it worked, and that’s how you found yourself in this position.

the position in question?

being fucked every which way lando deemed fit until the sun came up.

“you learnt your lesson yet, baby?” lando grunts into your ear, pinching your clit between his fingers.

your thighs are soaked, shaking uncontrollably, and your head has lulled back against his shoulder. you’re breathing heavily, your back flush against his front and he’s restless. you’ve lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve been pushed to.

“lan.” you breathe, eyes fixated on the bracelet adorning his wrist. the kitschy trinket sends liquid fire down your spine and you spasm as he continues to swirl his calloused thumb over your clit.

“that’s not an answer.” he tuts, slipping his fingers through your slit until he’s circling your weeping entrance. you’re coated with slick, some of it his from where he’d fucked you up against the wall a good few hours ago. “have you,” he kisses your shoulder, trailing his fingers that were digging into your hip up your belly. “learnt your lesson?” his teeth sink into your flesh at the same time he pinches your nipple.

you gasp out a cry of his name, slurring incomprehensibly, “yes, yes, ‘m sorry, i’m so sorry.” you sob. his chest rumbles cruelly with laughter and you’re hurtling towards another release, the overstimulation making it easy for him to get you off.

“that’s all you needed to say, honey.” lando coos condescendingly.

as if he’s rewarding you for owning up, two of his fingers sink into your entrance, sliding deep. the sound of your wetness sends your eyes rolling back as he scissors his digits in and out of you, speeding them up into a delicious grind. you’re a mess in seconds, slumped into him as close as can be. kisses over your neck soothe you and you feel the wet rush of your release approaching quicker than you can comprehend it. you gush all over his fingers, dripping down his wrist, coating that annoying fucking bracelet.

“there you go, baby. so good for me.” he whispers, slowing his thrusts. “can you turn over for me? want you to look at me.”

you pant as you wriggle around in his arms until you’re straddling his lap. you can feel yourself dripping on him, his thick length sliding between your folds. the exhaustion renders you languid, ready to let him do just about whatever he wants to you next.

lando cups your breast, stroking gently over your nipple while he runs his tongue all over his long fingers. he loves to make you watch, torturing you until you’re needy for another release.

“you think you can do a few more for me?” lando smirks, bringing the fingers that he’d just licked clean to your other breast, fiddling with your other nipple. he has you rolling your hips against him, inadvertently chasing another high already. he loves it, revels in how he can reduce you to this, so desperate that you’re grinding down on his cock, a wet mess in his lap, all for him.

“yeah, lan.” you nod profusely, your tired eyes locked with his. the early morning sun hits them enticingly, making them sparkle green in the warm light. he looks disgustingly gorgeous like this, soft and yours, resting against the headboard, curls spilling over his forehead and into his eyes. if you didn’t know that he was mulling over a million twisted ideas in his brain that involved resorting you to tears of pleasure, you’d think he looked adorable.

“good.” he grins. “not even nearly done with you.” he looks evil; your thighs clench around his hips.

without moving you off of his lap, he uses his strength to slide down the bed until he lays flat. he beckons you to crawl up his body, and you find the strength to wriggle over him, thighs resting on either side of his neck when he stops you.

“you gonna slide your pretty little cunt over my neck?” lando asks, wrapping his huge hands around your thighs. you gulp, staring down at him dumbfounded. “don’t look at me like i’m crazy, baby. you think i don’t see you staring at it with that special little look in your eyes?” he teases. “get to fucking work, i’m not gonna ask again.”

hesitantly, you lower yourself against his his skin, flaming red with embarrassment and lust. you can’t lie and pretend that you aren’t utterly enticed by this, that you aren’t leaking down your thighs at the prospect of sliding your pussy along his tanned, flexed flesh. the adventurousness of the escapade makes your legs tremble, nerves eating you alive, but it’s all worth it when you feel that first glide.

you curse out, loud and breathy, the new sensation creating lewd sounds between you. he’s obsessed, staring up at you in mischievous awe as you rock your hips backwards and forwards. you tangle one hand in his hair, tugging hard in sheer desperation, while the other hand balances you against the headboard so you don’t crush him. he guides your hips like he wants to die like this, suffocated by you and everything you have to offer him.

“oh my fucking god.” you choke out a moan, jaw hanging agape as you continue to slide against him. every time you move forwards, you feel the delectable prickle of his trimmed facial hair scratching against your inner thighs and your eyes squeeze shut each time, pure pleasure bubbling in the pit of your belly.

“you have no idea how fucking good you look.” lando rasps, digging his fingertips into the meat of your thighs. you’re so tense, teetering on the very edge. the strength he possesses, his composure while you’re sitting on his fucking neck makes you throb.

you gaze down at him, feral, and it does something to him, because he’s yanking you up onto his parted lips, burying his face as far as it will go. you yelp, collapsing into the headboard as he holds you down on his tongue, lapping up your mess.

“can taste us.” he mumbles into the flesh of your cunt, barely audible, but you hear it and it makes you shiver. you black out as your orgasm hits, your ears ringing as bliss courses through your limp body like a delicious electric shock. your nerves are shot when he rolls you onto your back.

“fucking heaven.” lando groans, crawling over you as he licks his lips.

he’s invigorated by the taste of you, how spent you are, and how it’s all his fault. you can’t string a sentence together, but you’re grabbing at his toned body like you’re begging silently for more, anything. he needs to drive into you, fill up up, make you remember that your little games will always lead back to this, the reminder that you’re his.

“you sensitive, honey?” he growls, hand sliding between your legs while his necklace rests in the valley between your breasts. you whimper at the sensation, overloaded, nodding. you both know you need more; he needs more. “tough.”

lando practically folds you in half when he fucks into you, giving you no solace in adjusting to him. he ruts into you hard, fast, unrelenting as he sinks deeper and deeper with every thrust.

“you’re gonna behave from now on. you don’t need to make me jealous for me to fuck you.” he grunts. his slaps your hip, the harsh snap leaving a sting that has you convulsing. “this is what you deserve isn’t it? whoring yourself out because you were a wet mess for me all weekend.”

you whine his name, sobs wracking your body. he feels utterly divine hammering into you like life itself depends on it. you’ve lost track of where he stops and you begin, stars behind your eyes that turn into butterflies festering in your belly. you’re so full, flushed beneath him, gushing every time he opens his dirty fucking mouth.

“crying for me, love?” he mocks, lowering himself to get even closer to you, his tongue finding your tears tracks and licking the salty residue away until you’re shuddering.

“please, lando, please, told you i’m sorry.” you plead, begging for something undisclosed, but it’s okay, because he knows exactly what to do with you.

“be fucking quiet.” lando coos once more, sickeningly unsympathetic.

but you can’t help it, whimpering out his name, begging for some form of relief, or mercy, or for him to just fuck you impossibly harder. how can you be quiet when he’s tearing you so perfectly apart?

lando doesn’t like being disobeyed, so when you continue to sob, loud and lewdly, his hand finds it’s way to the base of your throat. your jaw goes slack, wheezing at the intense rush you get when he squeezes slowly, and you can’t help but let go.

“fucking- lando!” you writhe.

“i know, baby, i know.” he shushes you, hooking your leg even higher so that he can bury himself as deep as possible.

you spasm hard, impossibly tight around him and he stutters, collapsing you both hard into the mattress. you hold him so, so tight as he cums, shooting into you. you can feel him leaking out of you already, white hot, and laying there in a heap of sweat and adoration. he breathes a laugh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“are you okay, honey?” he whispers, kissing your collarbone.

“just peachy. a bit knackered.” you giggle, tangling your fingers into his damp curls.

“so, you liked the bracelet then?” he teases, nose bumping against your cheek as he raises his wrist to your eye line.

“i think it needs a clean.” you wrinkle your nose, thinking about what the beads had been exposed to over the last few hours.

“let’s shower, hm? then we can watch the sunrise.” lando suggests, sitting you up slowly.

“you’re gonna need to carry me.” your legs are still quivering.

“anything for you.” he says, hand over his heart.

45 minutes later, the sun is sitting pretty, high in the sky.

7:26am, the clock reads. the melbourne skyline glimmers hot with the rise of a new day.

you’re snuggled into his side, wet hair cooling the heat of damp skin. your eyes flutter, barely fighting the urgent need to sleep.

“you have no idea how much i love you.” lando caresses your stringy locks, pushing the hair from your eyes.

your bare bodies mould together, basking in the orange of the dawn.

“love you.” you mutter, brushing your lips against his chest in an open mouthed kiss. “promise i’ll start behaving.” you snicker.

“but baby, you know i love it when you’re bad.”

“okay, i’ll remember that… daddy.” you retort, a teasing lilt to your tone.

he ignores the way his blood rushes south, too conscious of your exhausted body - and his own - to climb on top of you and fuck you until the sun sets once more.

“get some sleep.” he whispers through gritted teeth.

you sink into sleep while he watches over you. the view from the hotel room is gorgeous, breathtaking, but why would he give it even a millisecond of his attention when he has you?

head? empty.

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789 @ln4norizz @formulaal @carlandoxlestappen @cmleitora @pianor481 @costkappen @roostersluvvr

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hemmingsleclerc · 4 months

Text

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💗

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princepiastri · 5 months

Text

ending the war - MV1

max verstappen x reader

max's girlfriend loves to post embarrassing photos of him

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, georgerussell63 and 4,526,933 others

ynusername the grind never stops 💪😤

username these are amazing

username babe wake up max's gf exposed him again

maxverstappen1 stop interrupting my workouts

username that last photo

georgerussell63 these are great for ammo thank you trouble

-> ynusername you're very welcome georgie

-> maxverstappen1 trouble? georgie? 🤨

---

liked by landonorris, alex_albon, max_fewtrell and 4,829,413 others

ynusername Maximilian sit like a normal person challenge - failed

username i wonder if he even knows he's doing it

-> ynusername he definitely does not

username what is he even doing in that first one?

username stop it he's so funny

maxverstappen1 you know that's not my name

-> landonorris Max Emilian Verstappen

-> maxverstappen1 literally nobody asked you

---

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon, landonorris and 4,925,228 others

ynusername always on his phone 🙄

username the intense stare

maxverstappen1 i was literally texting you in all of these photos

username 3 time world champion ladies and gentlemen

georgerussell63 what was the makeup for?

-> maxverstappen1 trying to cover the wrinkles from dating her

-> ynusername clearly they didn't do a very good job then

-> maxverstappen1 😒

---

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 9,357,266 others

maxverstappen1 payback

landonorris saving these for blackmail

-> ynusername blocked

username okay but these are CUTE

ynusername MAX VERSTAPPEN

-> maxverstappen1 😁

-> ynusername that couch looks real comfortable for you tonight

-> maxverstappen 😦

---

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, max_fewtrell and 5,402,467 others

ynusername ending the war - and proving i actually like my boyfriend

alex_albon this is disgusting

georgerussell63 bring the old account back

-> ynusername i'm a changed girl

landonorris this is not what i want on my feed

-> maxverstappen1 then stop following my girlfriend

username the IT couple

maxverstappen1 ❤️

liked by ynusername

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x yn #max verstappen x you #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smau #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 burb #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic

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scuderiahoney · 2 months

Text

Pick You Up

Max Verstappen x reader

Masterlist

Summary: when Max has one too many gin & tonics, you’re the one who picks (him) up, every time he calls. Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: alcohol, intoxication, maybe an unhealthy relationship with alcohol??, mentions of Max’s shitty childhood, incorrect taylor swift lyrics

It’s 1am, and your phone is buzzing on the nightstand. You groan and shove your face into the pillow. You were having such a nice dream. Something about an island and a very attractive man. You let the phone ring until it stops, and then you hold your breath. Maybe it was a butt dial. Maybe it’s not what you think.

The buzzing starts again, and you blindly slam your hand onto the nightstand, grabbing for it. You swipe to answer without even looking at the contact. You already know who it is. Or at the very least, who they’re calling you about. It’s never anyone else.

“Max needs a ride,” a friend of his says.

You’re already rolling out of bed. “Yeah. Where?”

You could complain, you suppose, as you pull on a pair of sweatpants and a jacket. You could ask them to find literally anyone else, or beg them to have a designated driver for once, but instead you just slip your shoes on. You rub the sleep from your eyes and grab a Red Bull on the way out the door. Someone sends you an address from a number you don’t even have saved in your phone. Worry claws at your chest.

The truth is, you’ll never complain about Max calling you in the middle of the night, because if he stopped calling you’d worry about who he was relying on. Max is… popular. He’s got a lot of people trying to ride his coattails. He gets invited to events and people buy him drinks and offer him things and then it’s 1am and he’s too drunk to get home on his own. And then he calls you. Or, more often, someone calls you for him.

You pull up in front of the club, and Max is already outside, stumbling on clumsy feet. He lurches towards your car when he sees it, which is a relief, because you hadn’t exactly wanted to get out of the car. You find yourself resenting whoever he was out with for leaving him all alone, but he opens the door and climbs in and you plaster a smile onto your face.

“Hi, schatje,” he slurs, and you muffle a laugh into your shoulder.

“Hi, Maxie,” you say.

This is the only time he calls you things like that. It’s also the only time you can call him Maxie without earning yourself a warning glare, or worse, an elbow to the rib cage. You’ve known him for years, and yet it’s only when he’s wasted that he doesn’t mind the nickname.

“Seatbelt,” you remind him.

He nods and tugs at the belt. You end up having to help him buckle- that happens about 70% of the time. His fingers fumble with the latch as you do so, and he lets out a little huff when you brush his hand away. Once he’s all set, you pat his shoulder lightly and lean back into your seat.

“I’m drunk,” he warns you.

“I know,” you answer.

“So no crazy driving. I don’t want to be sick in your very nice car.”

You laugh and cock your head at him. “This morning you called this car a shitbox.”

He nods. “It is. But it is your shitbox.”

You laugh again, putting the car into drive. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

He rambles the whole drive to his apartment, about all the people he was out with tonight and what they did and who they did. Drunk Max is a bit of a gossip, and his gossiping to you won’t get him in trouble, so he takes full advantage of it. You listen eagerly the entire time, though you keep your eyes focused on the road. He’s not the most drunk you’ve ever seen him, still too drunk to be in a cab or an Uber by himself but coherent enough that the journey up to his apartment shouldn’t be too difficult. You park your car in his parking lot and climb out.

Max is halfway out of his seat when you come around to meet him. You take his hand and help him the rest of the way up. He stumbles a bit, laughing as you catch him. Then he throws his arm around your shoulder and follows you to the elevator.

His head bumps into yours in the process. You lean into the weight of him, the two of you standing like a badly built lean to. If one of you topples, the other will too. You try not to think about that too much.

You stay the night, the way you always do when this happens. Because the only thing a hungover Max hates more than the sunlight is waking up to an empty apartment. You’ll be there in the morning to take care of him. He’ll promise he won’t do it again.

By this time next week, he’ll be out at a club, and you’ll have the volume on your phone turned up.

…..

The next time someone calls you on Max’s behalf, it’s someone you actually know. It’s 2am this time, and your eyes are closed. You’re drifting in that space between consciousness and dreams. Your ringtone almost becomes a part of a half dream before you realize what it is. You turn the phone over. NoRizzz, it reads. You think Max added the contact for you.

You answer. “Hi, Lando. S’it Max?” You ask.

“I swear to god I lost track of him for one second-“ Lando rushes out.

You pause halfway out of bed, feeling a jolt of worry at the frantic tone in his voice. “Lando?”

“He’s gone, he-“ He sounds panicked. “I turned around and he’s-“

“Did you call him?”

“Of course I called him-“ Lando scoffs. “Look, I wouldn’t be so worried if I hadn’t already been thinking about having you pick him up-“

“Hey, hey, slow down,” you say, though your heart is racing as you head for the door. “Where are you? How long has it been since you lost him?”

“We’re at Jimmyz, it’s been a half hour,” Lando admits. “I didn’t want to bother you, but-“

A half hour is a long time for Max. He could be anywhere in the city right now. He could’ve walked, or taken a cab, or… anything. Sober Max is great at self preservation. Drunk Max is easily persuaded. You’ve used it to your advantage more than you’d like to admit. Not in any bad way, just- Max, sing karaoke with me! Max, come dance with me! Max, we should order pizza!

You head for the front door. “Okay. It’s okay. I’ll come meet you, and then-“

You swing the door open and nearly scream when something heavy tumbles into your apartment. Someone, actually, upon further inspection. It’s Max, lit only by the dim hallway light and a beam from the kitchen light that you always leave on. He’s blinking up at you from the floor, a soft smile on his face. He has his arms wrapped around himself, like he’s cold. His skin is damp with sweat.

“Never mind, I found him,” you say into the phone.

“What? How?” Lando asks, bewildered.

“He was sitting in front of my door,” you answer as you crouch down. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, and Max smiles. “Must’ve taken a cab or something.”

“I walked,” Max admits.

That explains the sweat. That also tells you that Lando has lied to you- Max has been gone much longer than a half hour if he’s made his way here on foot. You choose not to call the other driver out on it, though. You want them to call you about things like this. If you chew him out, Lando will be less likely to do so.

“So he’s okay?” Lando asks.

“He’s fine,” you assure him. “I’ll talk to you later.”

You hang up and then start working on getting Max all the way into the apartment. He’s not much help. You manage to get his legs inside and then you close the door behind him. You’ll work on getting him out of the hallway next. For now, you sit down on the floor next to him.

“You walked here?” You ask.

He nods. “Missed you.”

You snort out a laugh. “You could’ve called me, I would’ve picked you up.”

He shrugs and shuts his eyes. “Didn’t want to bug you.”

“So you camped out in front of my door,” you say.

“Yes. But then you didn’t have to come pick me up.”

“I’ll always pick you up,” you say, brushing your thumb against his temple. “That’s what friends do.”

When he opens his eyes, they’re glassy. Your breath hitches. Max doesn’t get teary often, doesn’t get emotional often. Something aches in your chest. You rub your thumb over his cheekbone. He blinks once, twice, lashes tangled together.

“You okay?” You ask.

“Yeah.” He sounds so small when he says it. “Just. Thanks.”

There are these small moments, when Max shows a vulnerable side. These are the moments you think of when people spread vitriol towards him on the internet and ask how you could possibly be friends with him. They make you love him even more, and they make you resent the adults who were around him when he was growing up.

You’ve seen pictures of little Max, shown to you with funny anecdotes and teasing smiles. But when you look at them, and when you see him like this, you can’t find any of it funny. All you can think of is the other stories you’ve heard about his childhood. All you can wonder is how someone could’ve done those things to him. And then you wonder how despite it all, he ended up with such a kind soul.

Max is the one who brings you soup when you’re sick. He brings you trinkets from every country he goes to- the magnets fill the door of your fridge. Max sends you pictures of dogs he meets on the street even though he’s a cat person. He flies you out to races when you’ve had a bad week and buys you good pasta and better tequila. Max has a heart the size of a whole continent. People keep trying to chip away at it. You hate them for it.

So you take a moment to brush the tears from his cheeks. You don’t ask him why he’s crying, or tell him it’ll be okay. You just sit there on the floor with him in your hallway and wait for him to be ready.

Eventually, you get him up off the floor and drag him into your bedroom. It’ll be better for everyone involved if he gets a good night’s sleep in a real bed. You try to leave the room, but he grabs onto your wrist.

“Stay?” He asks, eyelids barely open.

You hum and brush the hair from his forehead. “Are you sure?”

“M’sure,” he says. “Don’t wanna be alone.”

You nod in understanding. You don’t even bother pointing out that he’s on your side of the bed. He’s too far gone to get him to roll over. You just climb over him and pull the blankets back and then tuck yourself in. You keep a respectable distance from him.

You know in the morning you’ll wake up to his arm around your middle and his face buried in your neck. You know because it happens every time you share a bed. Max will act like there’s nothing weird about it, will thank you for taking care of him, and be on his way before lunchtime.

You’ll crawl back into bed and curl up on your side, unsure of if you love or hate the fact that the sheets still smell like him.

…..

Charles calls you from Qatar.

You answer. “Charles, I cannot pick him up. I’m in another country.”

“Yes, I’ve told him that about a billion times,” Charles says. “He is very stubborn, you know.”

Something dawns on you as you sit up against your headboard. For some reason, you’ve always assumed that other people are the ones choosing to call you. That even when it’s someone who doesn’t know you, they’re getting your information from the emergency contact info in his phone. But this… Charles seems to be suggesting that Max has asked him to call you.

“Is he okay?” You ask.

Charles laughs. “He’s fine. He is a world champion, again. You know.”

You do know. You called and congratulated him right after the race. You can still hear the shake in his voice, the yelling of his team behind him. It’d made your heart ache, made you sad you weren’t there with him.

“Yeah,” you say. “You both still have to drive tomorrow, you know.”

“I do know, which is why I’m hoping you can help me,” Charles says. “We’re in his hotel room. His phone is dead, I guess? He came to use mine, so I brought him back here. He’s lost his charger.”

“There’s a spare one in his backpack,” you tell Charles. “In the small pocket.”

You hear the zipper and Charles’ amused laugh. “Did you pack his bag for him?”

“I helped,” you admit. “Let me talk to him and I’ll see if I can talk him down?”

Charles makes a noise of agreement. There’s rustling, then a thud. More rustling. You pinch the bridge of your nose.

Then, Max. “Hi.”

“Hi, Max,” you answer. “I thought you were going to take it easy tonight.”

“I am a world champion,” he says, so matter of fact.

In the background, you hear Charles groan.

“Yes, a world champion who still has to do a race tomorrow,” you remind him.

“I know. Can’t believe I got it in the sprint. A sprint I didn’t even win,” he says, laughing lightly. “Let the rookie win the race tomorrow. I’m the champion.”

“I’m going to throttle him,” Charles says, loud enough or close enough for you to hear. “I think in turn one I will run him into the wall.”

“Tell Charles if he hurts one hair on your head I’ll fly to Qatar and throttle him myself,” you tell Max.

Max relays the message. Charles is quiet after that.

“Doesn’t matter how you won it, yeah?” You remind Max. “You still worked just as hard to get there.”

“Yeah,” Max agrees. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You say with a laugh. “Charles has plugged your phone in. Make sure you turn it on and then go to sleep.”

You call his hotel and have electrolyte drinks and breakfast sent up the next morning, along with a bottle of painkillers. He texts you a photo of all of it along with a thank you message. When he wins the race, even hungover, you’re not the least bit surprised.

…..

When Max calls you at 11:00 pm, your first thought is huh. That’s early. You answer on the third ring, already looking for your keys. You wonder who it’ll be this time. A friend you know, or an unknown voice of someone he’s only met tonight.

“Schatje?” Max asks through the speaker.

You nearly drop the phone. “Max?”

“What, you don’t have my number saved?” He asks.

“No, of course I do, s’just- not usually you who ends up calling me, even from your phone.”

You think you hear him sniffle. Something twists in your chest. Before you can scramble to apologize, he’s speaking.

“Yeah. Um.” He sighs. “Huh.”

You can hear it in his voice, in the way the words seem to stick in his throat. Something’s wrong. You climb off the couch, headed for the door. “Tell me where you are, Max.”

He sniffs. “No, it’s uh- I don’t know why I called-“

“Max,” you repeat as you shut the front door behind you. “Where are you?”

He gives in and tells you he’s at some hotel bar. You recognize it and head down the stairs. You keep him on the line even as you start the car, as you pull out onto the road. He’s mumbling something about how he’ll be fine, about how you don’t have to come get him. Both of you know you’re already on the way.

You have to go in this time. For a moment you think about asking who else he’s with, and hanging up and calling them. But you don’t want to lose contact, so you park the car and head inside. You’re in a hoodie and sweatpants, a pair of slippers on your feet. Nobody bats an eye.

You find him in a back hallway, squeezed into a corner. Your heart crumples at the sight of him. You’re sure your face does too. He’s teary and curled in on himself. He looks so small. You love him, you worry for him, you hate this version of him. Not that you could ever really hate him. It’s just that he looks so vulnerable, so unlike himself.

As much as you want to get him out of there, as much as it would probably be the right move, you sit down next to him instead. You wrap an arm around his shoulder and pull him into your side until his head is against yours. You don’t ask him what’s wrong. He’ll tell you eventually. It might take a while- sometimes a few days. You always give him time. For now, you just sit in the hallway with him. You meet him where he’s at.

He tells you later that he suddenly found himself alone in the bar. After days straight of only being alone when he went to sleep, person after person wanting to celebrate his championship, he’d been alone. He hadn’t realized how much he’d felt like he was suffocating until that moment.

“I was one of the people celebrating,” you remind him as he clings to you.

“But you aren’t suffocating me,” he says. “You’re like… clean air.”

He sleeps in your bed that night. You sleep next to him, not even bothering to argue about it. You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breaths and the weight of his hand on your back.

When you wake up in the morning, he pretends he’s fine. You let him.

…..

Drunk Max is an overly honest Max. He’ll tell you anything and everything. So when you’re walking him home one night, his arm over your shoulder, gin on his breath, you’re expecting to learn some things. What you weren’t expecting, however, is for him to lean close, his lips against your ear, and tell you he loves you.

The odd thing is the way he says it. He leans close and tells you he loves you like he’s talking to someone else. He says “hey, you know-“ then he says your name- and then he says, “you know I love her?”

You shove at his side. “Yeah, I love you too, you dummy.”

He shakes his head, bumping his forehead against your temple. “No, I love her.”

Your heart stops at the way he says it. At the meaning he’s insinuating. Your feet fumble under you, but you manage to keep both of you upright.

“Max,” you say in a warning tone. “You’re drunk.”

“Mm,” he hums. “Drunk in love. Love drunk? Like that song she likes- got love drunk-“

He doesn’t realize he’s talking to you. He likely won’t remember this. You cut him off before he breaks into slightly incorrect Taylor Swift lyrics on the sidewalk. “That’s nice, Max. Why don’t you tell her?”

He shrugs. “Can’t.”

He doesn’t elaborate further, and you miss your chance to prod him about it when he trips over a bump in the sidewalk and nearly sends you both flying. After that, you keep your focus on getting him up to his apartment safely. You shove him into the bathroom in his apartment and tell him to brush his teeth. Then you stand in the hallway and press your hands over your face.

Can’t. Why not? Does he mean it? Did he say the wrong name? He won’t remember it tomorrow, you know that. Do you bring it up? Maybe you should just forget about it. He obviously doesn’t want you to know. And even if it is true, and he does have feelings for you, it would never work.

He stumbles out of the bathroom and presses a messy, toothpaste-y kiss to your forehead. That leaves your brain spinning even worse than it was before. You follow him to the bedroom and tuck him in. The cats glare at you as you disturb the blankets.

“You’ll stay, right?” He asks, tugging on your arm. He seems to know who you are now. “Please?”

You sigh and agree, climbing into bed next to him. He sighs happily and rolls towards you. He slings an arm around your waist, and you hold your breath when he presses his cheek to your shoulder.

“Goodnight,” he says, already half asleep.

“Goodnight,” you echo.

You lay awake and stare at the ceiling for at least an hour, trying not to listen to the sound of his soft breaths. Trying not to think about him admitting that he loves you. Trying not to think about him calling himself love drunk. Trying not to think about him at all, which is difficult with him right there.

You wonder if he really meant it. You want him to mean it, you realize. You tilt your head to look at him- you can only see the top of his head and the slow rise and fall of his chest. God, you want him to mean it. There’s no way he does, but you want it so badly your whole body aches with it.

Sassy walks up to the head of the bed and curls up right next to you. You run your fingers over her fur. Finally, then, you’re able to fall asleep.

…..

It’s not often that Max is the one to pick you up from a bar. It’s every once in a blue moon. You’re much more responsible, you plan ahead. You have a ride home, or you don’t get so drunk that you can’t walk, or you plan to stay with a friend who lives closer to wherever you’re going.

It’s not often, but it does happen. Which is how you find yourself in the bar bathroom, phone pressed to your ear, praying he picks up. There’s a good chance he won’t. He’s definitely not sitting around, waiting for you to call like you always are when he goes out. If he doesn’t pick up you’ll have to call someone else, but you won’t even know where to begin.

It’s only when you hear his voice that you realize you’re not sure he’s even in Monaco.

“Hello?” He says. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, just- what country are you in?”

“What?” He asks. You can hear rustling in the background. “Is this some sort of code? Is someone-“

“No, Maxie, I’m fine,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Monaco,” he answers, still sounding unsure. “At home. Where are you?”

“Monaco. A bar bathroom,” you answer. “Any chance you’d come pick me up? My designated driver met a guy.”

“Not a very good designated driver,” he says with a scoff.

“Says the guy who never has one,” you retort.

Max laughs and doesn’t argue. “Send me your location. I’ll come get you.”

Max gets there far too quickly to have been driving at a reasonable speed. He insists that you wait inside rather than meeting him out on the sidewalk, and says he’ll call you when he gets there. The phone rings, so you step outside. You’re thankful once again for his collection of cars and his tinted windows- nobody seems to have realized it’s him. He leans over and opens the door for you, and you climb inside. He already has the heated seat on for you, and he hands you a bottle of water after you sit down.

“Drink,” he says as he pulls away from the curb.

You roll your eyes but do as he says anyways. The city is a blur of lights outside your window, though you know Max isn’t speeding. He always drives carefully with you in the car, no matter how many times you beg him to go fast. You sink lower in the leather seat.

His eyes flicker over to you. “Did you have a good time?”

You shrug. “Yeah, till all my friends ditched me,” you say. “They found guys to hook up with.”

You see Max frown out of the corner of your eye. “And you didn’t? The men in this club must be blind.”

You pick at the hem of your dress. “Maybe I didn’t want to hook up with anyone. Maybe that’s not what I’m looking for.”

“And what are you looking for?” He asks.

He keeps his eyes trained on the road. You turn your head to look at him. You’re at a stoplight, and it paints his face red. You study the slope of his nose, the jut of his jaw. You, you want to say. I’m looking for you. You think of him the last time you picked him up, how he said he loved you. Called himself love drunk. And then you think of when you asked him why he hadn’t told you. Can’t.

So instead, you shrug. Max turns and looks at you, then shrugs in response. You pout, knowing he’s mocking you. His eyes trace over your face, then over the rest of you. You wonder if he’s relying on how drunk you are to make you forget this- hoping you won’t realize or remember him checking you out. He reaches into the backseat and comes back with a large dark hoodie.

“Here,” he says. “You must be cold.”

The light turns green when the sweatshirt is half over your head- you only know because you feel the vehicle lurch into motion. You squeak, and Max laughs and lays a hand on your leg to steady you. His palm is warm against your bare skin.

When you pop your head back out and shove your arms through the sleeves, you expect him to let go. He doesn’t. His hand stays there, a steady presence, the whole ride to his place.

He hasn’t even asked if you want to stay at his apartment- he doesn’t need to, he already knows what your answer would be. Plus, you’re a bit too drunk to really be left on your own. He leads you up to his door, keeping his hand on your lower back to steady your wobbling steps. You’d tried to kick your heels off in the lobby, but Max had insisted you keep them on. You take them off as soon as you walk in his front door, though, sighing in relief. You stumble over to the couch as he sheds his shoes and jacket. By the time he walks into the living room, you’re curled up in the corner, already under a blanket, face pressed against one of his throw pillows. Max clicks his tongue.

“Come on. Up,” he says, tugging at your shoulder. “You should change your clothes and eat something.”

You groan and reach out to wrap your arm around his neck. “I’m comfy. Come cuddle. Comfy.”

He sighs. “We can cuddle. If you change your clothes and eat something.”

The offer leaves you a bit dumbfounded, because Max isn’t much of a cuddler. It’s pretty likely that he’s lying just to appease you, to get you to follow his instructions. So you continue to lay there, trying to pull him in. When you don’t budge, Max huffs, plants his hands on the couch behind you, and straightens up. He does it before you can loosen your grip, so you go with him almost accidentally. He pulls you off the couch and grabs your hips, helping you to stand up.

“There,” he says, as you sigh and lean heavily on him. “Step one. Clothes.”

He leads you to his room, where you eagerly take the opportunity to sit down on his bed. He turns and begins digging through his drawers. You flop back onto the bed. One of the cats paws at your ankles- you don’t bother looking to see which one. Max throws clothing onto your stomach.

“I’ll go make you food,” he says.

It takes you far too long to find the motivation to shed the hoodie and dress and trade them out for whatever clothes Max has left for you. Eventually, though, you do it. He’s given you one of his shirts and a pair of shorts that are definitely yours, likely left behind whenever you stayed over last. You pull the hoodie back over your head and leave the dress on the floor. It’s only when you remember that Max is awful at cooking that you scramble towards the kitchen.

He’s putting perfectly cooked ramen into bowls. Frankly, it’s hard to mess up ramen, but you’re relieved either way. He smiles at the sight of you, and you think about telling him all over again. The last time you were drunk, you said you loved me. I love you too. We should talk about that. Can’t. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“Thanks,” you say, sitting down at the counter.

You never do get the cuddle he promised. You fall asleep there, forehead pressed to the granite, and Max carries you to the guest room and tucks you in. You swear you feel his lips against your forehead as you fall asleep. But that’s probably just a dream.

…..

By the time you’re in Vegas for the Grand Prix, you haven’t been drunk with Max in months. It’s been one or the other, not both. But since you’re there, Max drags you along to every event he gets invited to. You’re two drinks deep by the time Max makes it to the afterparty. He catches up quickly.

You sneak a sip of his gin and tonic and recoil at the taste. He gives you a blank stare in return.

“You’ve never liked it,” he says. “I don’t know why you keep trying.”

You shrug. “Exposure therapy. And my drink’s empty.”

He gives you a look that’s a mixture of what you think is exasperation and fondness. It’s his signature look when he’s dealing with you on nights out.

“We can fix that,” he says, as he reaches for your hand.

He leads you up to the bar, fingers knit with yours. He doesn’t let go like he normally would. It’s not uncommon for him to hold onto you in a crowd, especially when you’re drunk, but this is different. He leans over the bar and gives your order to the bartender, who nods and moves to make the drink. Max keeps his hand in yours. He finally lets go when you get your drinks, and you take a sip while you look up at him.

His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, blue eyes wide, and you’re trying desperately to read his mind. You want him to let you in so badly.

You end up at a table with him and his driver friends, squished in the booth between Max and Charles. You sip your drink and listen to them talk about race strategy and tires and Vegas in general. Max downs his drink, and someone brings him another. You do the same, and he gets them to bring you one too. And the cycle continues.

This means that by the time he turns to you and says, “we should leave now,” you’re pleasantly drunk, and you’d probably do anything he asked, really.

He slips out of the booth and pulls you along with him, ignoring the people who call his name. He has both of your jackets in his arm as he weaves through the crowds, holding onto your hand. It’s nice, to be here with him, to be a part of it instead of sitting and waiting for a phone call to come pick him up.

As the two of you stumble out onto the sidewalk, you tug on the back of his shirt. “Hey. Who are we going to call to come take care of us? We’re both drunk.”

Max turns and laughs, and then he’s quick to steady you when you stumble on the pavement. “We will take care of each other.”

You nod clumsily, leaning into the feeling of his hands on your hips. “Okay. Yeah. Nice.”

Max tugs you close, tucking you under his arm as he starts to walk down the street. “Lovely.”

“Simply lovely,” you say teasingly. “Where are we going?”

“The hotel,” he says. “I am sick of people.”

You deflate a bit at that. You’re not ready to say goodnight, to say goodbye, to be alone. You want to spend more time with him- it’s why you’re here in Vegas. Max seems to sense your change in mood and squeezes your shoulder, craning his head to look down at you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. “Do you want to stay out? We can find another club, I just thought maybe we could order room service, or pizza, and play a game or…”

He trails off as your eyes go wide, the hurt in your chest melting away. He cocks his head.

“I thought you were sick of me, too,” you say, and you bite your lower lip.

Max frowns deeply. The lights behind his head are blurry in your vision. You wonder if you’re just drunk, or if you’re tearing up. The way he swipes his thumb under your eye tells you it’s the latter.

“No,” he says, gently. “Never.”

Your lip wobbles. You shrug. Max seems to understand, and he just squeezes your shoulder again and keeps walking. You try to get your emotions in check. You have to, really, need to be normal about this. He’s just your friend. That’s all he wants to be.

“We could go do karaoke,” he suggests, pointing at a sign down the road.

He’s trying to distract you. It’s working.

You laugh and elbow him. “You’re an awful singer,” you tease.

“Am not!” He says, his tone full of mock offense. “Here, I’ll-“

You’re expecting him to break out into Viva Las Vegas, like he had at the end of the race over the radio. You’re bracing yourself for it, ready to grimace and cover your ears even though he isn’t really that bad of a singer. What he starts singing surprises you, makes you stumble a bit over your own feet.

“Welcome to New York!” He sings, and you stare at him, wide eyed. “They’ve been waiting for me- welcome-“

“Stop, stop,” you laugh, elbowing him as he attracts stares from people passing by. “We’re in Vegas, not New York! And you always get the lyrics wrong-“

“I am very good with lyrics,” he says, shaking his head.

“No, you’re not, you sang the other one wrong, too,” you tease. “You said got love drunk, it’s supposed to be got love struck. Remember, in Monaco?”

He stops in his tracks, his arm still around you, and stares. You stare right back. You frown and tilt your head at him, mirroring his earlier reaction.

“You remember that?” He asks, quietly.

“I was sober, Max,” you answer. “You remember that?”

He nods, lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes are wide, cheeks pink. “I wasn’t sure if it was real, or if I dreamed it. And you never said anything about what I told you, so…”

That’s when you remember the other part of that conversation, all those nights ago. I love her. Why don’t you tell her? Can’t. You swallow tightly, hands hanging at your sides.

“You didn’t seem to know you were talking to me,” you explain. “So I figured it wasn’t something you really wanted me to know.”

Max blinks, then nods. “I didn’t. Because you don’t feel the same.”

Your stomach twists violently, and your chest follows suit. “I never said that.”

His stare is so intense you feel like you’re seconds away from bursting into flame. “But if you did, you would’ve said something after that night.”

You shake your head. “I asked why you didn’t just tell me and you just said, can’t. You wouldn’t explain any further. I don’t know, Max, I just. I figured you had a reason. Like, maybe…”

“Maybe what?” He asks, still staring at you.

“I’m just me, Max,” you say, pressing your hands over your face. “I’m just your friend. People get crushes all the time but it doesn’t mean you want to be with me, you’re a fucking world champion and I-“

He reaches up with both hands and grabs your wrists gently. He pulls your hands from your face. There’s a smile on his lips that leaves you teetering between relief and apprehension.

“But I didn’t say I had a crush on you,” he says, brows raised. “I said I love you.”

You sigh heavily and try to pull your hands back to your face. He doesn’t let you. You’re looking anywhere other than his eyes. Anywhere other than him, really. He lets go of your wrists and then cups your face in his hands before you can move.

“Hey,” he says. “I said can’t because I thought there was no way you’d feel the same.”

You stare at him, wide eyed, as his thumbs sweep soft circles over your cheeks. Suddenly, everything comes into focus, bright and blinding and stark. The Las Vegas strip is glowing all around you, but none of the lights are as bright as him.

“I do,” you murmur, and he lights up even brighter, somehow, when he smiles. “Fuck, Max-“

He kisses you right there, where anyone could see, in the middle of one of the busiest sidewalks you’ve ever been on. Nobody seems to notice or care, nobody seems to understand that your whole world is shifting. His lips are warm against yours, he tastes like gin, and he holds onto you like he’s trying to be so, so careful. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck and thread fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

He only pulls away when someone whistles at the two of you. He’s grinning wide, hands still cradling your face, and you have to fight not to pull his lips back to yours.

“Come on,” he says, slightly out of breath.

You don’t ask where you’re going. You just let him lead you away. You’re so in love with him, you think you’d probably follow him anywhere. It’s terrifying and relieving all at the same time.

…..

A week later, in Abu Dhabi, you ask him if he wants to go out after the race. There’s a billion parties he could choose from.

“No,” he says, wrinkling his nose up at the idea. “I’m good.”

You elbow him lightly, raising your brows. “All those parties you called me to pick you up from, and now I’m here and you don’t even want to go out? You don’t want to celebrate your season?”

He smirks as he tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you along with him through the paddock. “I want to celebrate, but we don’t need to go out to do that. I have better ideas.”

His hand slips lower from your hip and squeezes at your ass. You yelp and look around frantically, hoping nobody noticed. He’s grinning with pride.

“Party animal Max Verstappen wants to stay in,” you tease. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

He shrugs, leans his head close to yours, and then admits, finally, “it was never about the parties. It was more about who was picking me up from them.”

You smile against his shoulder and try not to let it go to your head. He smiles against your forehead and tells you that he loves you for what must be the millionth time in the past week. You say it right back, drunk on the feeling of it.

a/n: thank you for readinnnnngggg!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully

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sterredem · 24 hours

Text

All because I liked a boy

Mick Schumacher x Singer!reader

Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter

Word count: really short

Summary: when Y/n and mick get a lot of hate. Based on the love triangle from Olivia Rodrigo, Joshua Basset and Sabrina Carpenter

Warning: Hate

A/N really short, it is more of a blurb. I loved the idea but I don’t have a lot of time. Again what I said in the last few fics, u am working on something bigger. So if you want to see more singer!reader let me know!

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Yourusername Photo dump

Comments

User1 What a slut and attention seeker. She can’t even post without her bf in it!

User2 So cute!!

User3 Reveal your boyfriend already!

User4 OMG NEW MISIC?!?!

User5 Omg the soft launch 🫠🫠

User6 So pretty!!

User7 Mick deserves better than a slut and cheater!!

User8 Liala is so much better than her!

User9 kys

Mick_Schumacher ❤️❤️ liked by author

User10 You deserve to die!

User11 why do you even try

User12 Slut!

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Yourusername Suprise! My new EP ‘All because I liked a boy’ is out now! This is the story of the last few years of my life, my past relationships and my current relationship. I hope you enjoy it!❤️🫶

Comments are limeted

Mick_Schumacher So good love, I’m so proud!

TaylorSwift love it!

OliviaRodrigo So good! Love the album!

SebastianVettal Beautiful songs!

GracieAbrams So proud of you!

Honeymoon Amazing!

Conangray So exited!

ReneéRap AAHHH SO HAPPY FOR YOU❤️❤️

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mariahcarreyyy · 1 month

Note

max making u wear a pendant with his initials/driver's number engraved around ur neck coz he likes to watch it swing when u ride him

# 📝 send a prompt and a driver for me to write a short blurb or scenerio ! nsfw 18+ below beware⬇️⬇️

mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post

"Where's the necklace?"

Max's words had made you halt. He placed a gentle hand on your collarbone, pushing you gently from where you were mouthing at his neck and stroking his thumb where the gold of his initials should be.

With furrowed brows, you craned your neck down to follow his disheartened glare. The absence of the cool chain around your neck didn't seem quite as important as the growing need for max, max, max.

"Dunno," you mumbled dismissively, rolling your hips from where you were straddling his legs on the bed. "Ah—bathroom, 'think, t-took it off to shower."

Your boyfriend hummed sweetly before lightly tapping the side of your thigh. "Get it."

Barely forcing down a whimper, you bit your lip, tugging on the hem of his baggy shorts. "Max, please, just—"

A taunting, raised brow was enough to have you huffing and hauling yourself off of his lap. The walk from the bathroom and back to Max's arms, barely ten steps, made your eyes glassy and the pleasure stirring in your stomach boil.

You made the mistake of catching your reflection in the mirror: flushed cheeks, hair sprawled in various directions, and an evident pout etched onto your face. The necklace was expensive; you'd known that, but had Max really needed to stop you mid-foreplay to run and get it?

Judging by his cocky smirk and the fact that he'd fumbled out of his clothes in the ten seconds you'd left, you guessed so. Your eyes drifted down his body, past the sweaty abs, and onto his hand, lazily stroking his hard cock. You wanted it inside you, in your mouth—fuck, he was making it really hard to stay annoyed.

"Happy?" you grumbled, your facade slipping when Max swiftly pulled you into his lap, shivering slightly as he nearly ripped the shirt off of your body, the cold air hitting your nipples and Max's wet tongue trailing kisses down your neck.

Moans slip past your lips, and you slide a hand down to the angry, red tip of Max's length. You grin wildly when he groans, the vibrations rippling against your skin and shooting straight down to your core. "More than." He cups the swell of your ass with his massive palms and lifts you up to hover over his dick. "C'mon, shatje, make y'self feel good on m'cock."

And who were you to deny Max that?

The stretch of his cock burned like it always has, spikes of pleasure overcoming the momentary pain. Max's desperate moans mixed with yours, echoing across the room. After a few seconds, Max's palm impatiently striked at your ass, making you jolt and bite your lip to avoid the embarrassing sound that would have left your lips. "M-Max, oh, fuck."

You lifted your hips, almost slipping Max's slick-covered dick out of your wet pussy before dropping back down. Max's eyes were half-lidded, a hazy grin plastered on his face; he watched the gold swing recklessly, worrying his bottom lip at the fast pace you'd set.

Max rolled his hips upward to meet your movements, and the loud yelp that left your lips made you flush. "Fuckk, s'good, baby—ah, all mine, yeah? All. Fucking. Mine."

Punctuating each word with a sharp thrust, Max almost came when your wet pussy clenched around him. "All yours, m'all yours, Max."

That was what the initials on your collarbones stood for, didn't they?

authors note. i havent written in so long pls forgive me everyone

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elia-the-bibliophile · 1 day

Text

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

Angst to Fluff

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.

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