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pucksandpower · 1 day

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Made with Love

Charles Leclerc x amateur baker!Reader

Summary: in which Charles would rather risk the entire paddock getting food poisoning (again) than break your heart by telling you that your baking is horrible

You hum to yourself as you pull a tray of freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven. The sweet, chocolaty aroma fills Charles’ kitchen, making your mouth water.

This batch is sure to be perfect! You’ve been practicing your baking skills for months now, determined to get it just right.

Charles wanders into the kitchen, drawn by the scent. “Mmm, something smells good in here!”

He peers over your shoulder at the tray of cupcakes. They’re a bit misshapen, with cracked tops that deflated the second they were taken out of the oven. The frosting is glopped on unevenly.

To you, they look absolutely mouthwatering. To Charles, they look … well, he loves you too much to say.

“Try one!” You urge, holding out a cupcake. Charles flashes you a hesitant smile before taking it. He peels back the liner and takes a bite. His eyes widen and he forces himself to chew and swallow.

“Well? How is it?” You ask eagerly.

Charles clears his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s great. Your best batch yet,” he lies. In truth, it’s dry and dense, with a strange bitter aftertaste. But the delight on your face makes the fib worth it.

You throw your arms around him in a hug. “Yay! I can’t wait to share them with the team this weekend.”

Charles’ stomach drops. The thought of the entire paddock pretending to enjoy your baking makes him cringe internally. But he plasters on a smile. “What a nice idea! I’m sure they’ll love them.”

The two of you arrive at the circuit and you can barely contain your excitement as you carry a large container of cupcakes into the paddock. Charles trails behind you, backpack slung over one shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your waist. He presses a quick kiss to your temple before you flit off to distribute your baked goods.

You first approach Max Verstappen, holding out a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles. “Here Max, have one!”

Max eyes the treat dubiously but accepts it with a polite smile. “Thanks Y/N, that’s really nice of you.”

You beam and turn to Charles, missing the look of apprehension on Max’s face. Charles catches Max’s eye and draws a finger across his throat in warning. Max’s eyes widen but he nods in understanding. Charles won’t let anything ruin your mood today.

You make your way through the paddock, handing cupcakes to mechanics, engineers, PR reps, reporters, team principals, and drivers. Charles hovers behind you, keeping a watchful eye on each recipient.

Daniel Ricciardo visibly gags on his first bite when you turn away. Charles glares and shakes his head sharply. Daniel rearranges his face into a smile and gives a thumbs up.

Lando Norris takes an overly large bite and Charles has to pound on his back as he chokes it down.

Esteban Ocon discreetly spits his cupcake into a napkin when you’re not looking. Charles lunges forward and grabs his arm, squeezing tightly until Esteban wheezes out “Delicious!”

You remain blissfully unaware of the chaos that falls over the paddock in your wake, oblivious to Charles’ desperate interventions. All you see are your friends and acquaintances enjoying your baking.

When you finally offer a cupcake to Charles, he takes it and eats the whole thing without hesitation. Because even if it tastes like sugary sawdust, the delight on your face makes it the best treat in the world.

“Wasn’t that fun?” You gush to Charles afterwards. “I can’t wait to try out a new recipe soon!”

Charles just kisses your frosting-smudged nose and says, “I can’t wait either, mon amour.” As long as you’re happy, he’ll choke down all the questionable cupcakes you offer. Because your smile is the only thing that matters.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you and Charles arrive for the next race weekend, yet another batch of fresh baked goods in hand. You’re eager to share your latest creations — classic chocolate chunk cookies. You spent hours carefully following the recipe, determined to get them just right.

As you make your rounds distributing cookies, the reactions are the usual mix of forced smiles and discreet spitting. Charles trails behind you, glaring at anyone who doesn’t immediately rave about how delicious they are. The drivers and mechanics quickly catch on, showering you with praise and shooting Charles grateful looks when he turns you away.

You finally offer a cookie to Graham, a mechanic from the Mercedes team. He takes it hesitantly, eyeing Charles standing behind you. But Graham is new to the paddock and unaware of the baked goods situation.

He takes a bite and immediately grimaces. “Ugh, these taste terrible!” He blurts out.

You gasp, stumbling back as if struck. Tears well up in your eyes. Charles is at your side in an instant, pulling you into a comforting hug. Over your shoulder, he shoots Graham a look of absolute rage.

Graham realizes his mistake too late, shame washing over his face. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean ...” he stammers. But you’re already pulling away from Charles and rushing off, sobbing.

Charles turns on Graham, eyes blazing. “How could you? All she ever wants to do is make others happy!” Graham cowers before him, other mechanics backing away nervously.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Graham says miserably.

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Charles snarls. “You stay away from her, you hear me?” Graham nods shakily. Satisfied the message is received, Charles races after you.

He finds you behind the garage, face buried in your hands. “Oh mon ange,” Charles murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “Don’t listen to him, your cookies are perfect.”

You cling to Charles, sniffling. “I just wanted to do something nice for everyone. But I’m so horrible at baking!”

Charles tilts your chin up. “You listen to me. You have the biggest, kindest heart. It doesn’t matter if the cookies are a little, er, overdone. What matters is you put love into making them. Don’t let someone like Graham get you down.”

You smile tremulously. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

Charles grins. “Hmm, I don’t mind hearing it again.” Laughing through your tears, you tell him again, punctuating it with a kiss.

After ensuring you’re okay, Charles seeks out Graham. “I trust you’ll be more considerate going forward?” Graham nods meekly. “Good. But just so we’re clear, if you upset her again, you’ll be out of this paddock for good.”

The next day, the news breaks that Graham has been dismissed from the Mercedes team for “attitude issues.” You feel a bit guilty, hoping your cookies didn’t cause him to lose his job. But Charles seems strangely satisfied, so you don’t dwell on it.

From then on, Charles redoubles his efforts to protect your feelings whenever you provide baked goods. The paddock falls in line, fawning over your overly salty pretzels and dry banana bread.

The brightness of your smile makes it all worth it to Charles. Because keeping that joy and kindness shining in you is what matters most to him.

***

You step out of Charles’ Ferrari, the engine purring as he puts it in park. Taking his hand, you smile excitedly — today is another fan meetup organized by the team, and you can’t wait to connect with Charles’ supporters again.

“Are you ready, mon cœur?” Charles asks, squeezing your hand gently. His green eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you adoringly.

“Absolutely!” You chirp, patting the large picnic basket hanging off your arm. “I made lots of treats to share today!”

Charles grins and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m sure they will love everything you made, as always.”

You beam, bolstered by his encouragement as you both make your way to the event. The meetup is being held in a local park, with tents and tables set up amongst the lush green grass and towering trees. You spot a long line of fans waiting eagerly for Charles’ arrival. Most are dressed in the familiar rosso corsa of Ferrari, holding posters and memorabilia for him to sign.

“Charles! Charles!” They chant excitedly when they see him. You hang back happily, letting him have his moment with his dedicated supporters. Charles takes selfies, signs autographs, and chats animatedly in Italian, French, and English. The fans are thrilled to interact with their racing idol.

After some time, Charles waves you over. “I would like you all to meet someone very special to me,” he announces, wrapping an arm around you. The fans erupt into cheers and applause. “This is Y/N, my love.”

You blush at the attention but manage to give a little wave. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to be here today.”

Charles addresses the crowd again. “As some of you know, Y/N loves to bake and has brought some special treats to share with you all today.”

This is met with more enthusiastic cheers. Though none of them particularly enjoy your baked goods, the fans appreciate the effort and know Charles likes to reward them for humoring you.

You open up your large picnic basket, beaming with pride. “I made my favorite oatmeal raisin cookies, some lemon squares, and my famous rocky road fudge!”

The fans try not to visibly cringe, lining up politely with plates held out. You happily distribute your overly dry, burnt cookies and gooey, cloying fudge. The lemon squares are mushy and saccharine. But the fans accept it all with smiles and encouragement.

“Mmm, delicious!” One teenage girl forces out through a mouthful of your fudge.

An older man gives you a thumbs up as he chokes down a cookie, eyes watering. “So good!”

You beam, pleased that they enjoy your baking so much. As you chat with each person, you don’t notice Charles discreetly handing out autographed photos, caps, and other prized memorabilia to reward the fans for their efforts.

After you’ve handed out all your baked goods, Charles suggests a stroll through the park gardens. As you walk hand-in-hand admiring the flowers, he says softly, “You have such a big heart, Y/N. The way you care so much about connecting with the fans means the world to me.”

You squeeze his hand gratefully. “It’s the least I can do — they support you in everything, so I want to support them too.”

Charles stops and turns to you, his expression tender. “You are amazing, truly. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your heart flutters just like the first time your lips met.

When you return from your walk, the event is winding down. You say goodbye to the fans, who thank you profusely for the treats and making their day so special. You tell them you can’t wait to bake for them again soon!

After the last fan leaves, it’s just you and Charles. The late afternoon sun casts golden light on the empty picnic tables.

“Did you have fun, mon amour?” Charles asks, caressing your cheek.

“The best time!” You say enthusiastically. “I just love baking for your wonderful fans and seeing how it makes them smile.”

Charles’ eyes are full of love. He kisses the top of your head. “As long as it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

You snuggle into his chest happily. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“I don’t think so,” Charles teases. “Why don’t you remind me again?”

You grin up at him. “I’ll tell you over dinner … I have a new donut recipe I want to try out.”

Charles fights down a grimace as he reminds himself that your love is more than worth suffering through another dreadful dessert. “I can’t wait!”

***

“Mate, you have to stop her before she poisons someone,” Max whispers urgently to Charles as you step out of the room.

Charles furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. Her baking. It’s … it’s just terrible. I’m sorry, but it has to be said.”

Charles lets out a dismissive chuckle. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Max raises his eyebrows incredulously. “I chipped a tooth on her brownie last week!”

Charles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he avoids making eye contact.

“Look, I get that you don’t want to upset her,” Max continues, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “But we can’t keep lying and pretending it’s good! One of these days, someone is going to end up in the hospital.”

Charles sighs deeply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “What do you want me to do? If I tell her the truth, she’ll be devastated.”

You return to the room then, a bright smile on your face as you carry a plate of freshly baked apple tarts. “Who wants one?”

Max cringes almost imperceptibly while Charles shoots him a warning look. “They look great, ma belle!” He says with forced enthusiasm, taking one and bringing it to his lips.

The apple filling is gelatinous and tastes faintly of soap. Charles forces himself to swallow it with a strained smile. Max quickly declines when you offer him one.

Later that evening, Charles finds Max alone outside his apartment building. “I need your help,” he admits defeatedly.

Max looks at him expectantly.

“With Y/N’s baking … how do I get her to stop without completely crushing her?”

His friend contemplates this for a moment. “Well … you could try convincing her to take up a new hobby instead?”

Charles shakes his head. “I’ve suggested that before, but she’s dead set on baking. It’s her biggest passion.”

“Okay, then you’ll have to take a different approach.” Max strokes his chin thoughtfully. “What if … you told her a bunch of us were going vegan or something, so she couldn’t bake for us anymore?”

Charles raises an eyebrow at the suggestion, but then slowly nods. “You know, that could actually work …”

The next day, you eagerly bring a fresh batch of blueberry muffins to the paddock to share with everyone. Charles takes a deep breath before pulling you aside gently.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” He starts, trying to keep his expression neutral.

You blink up at him curiously. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Well …” He clears his throat. “I was talking to the guys and … Lewis has actually convinced a bunch of them to go vegan. Lando, Max …”

He lists off a dozen more names, watching as realization dawns on your face. Your shoulders slump slightly.

“Oh … I see.” You glance down at the muffins in your hands. “I guess that means I can’t really bake for them anymore.”

Charles feels a pang of guilt at the disappointment in your eyes. But then, your expression brightens again.

“I’ll just have to start baking vegan treats instead!” You declare happily. “This is so exciting, I’ve been wanting to experiment with more plant-based ingredients!”

Charles’s shoulders tense as the plan epically backfires. Of course you’d take this as an opportunity to bake even more.

Over the next few weeks, you gleefully embrace the vegan baking lifestyle. Charles has to smother his laughter when Max nearly chokes biting into one of your “chewy” vegan brownies. Lando spits out a mouthful of your gritty vegan chocolate cake when you’re not looking.

You, however, remain blissfully unaware of how dreadful your creations are. No matter how many hints Charles tries to drop, the problem only seems to be getting worse.

One evening, you set a plate of fresh-from-the-oven vegan peanut butter cookies on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch next to Charles with a proud grin.

“Try one!” You insist, picking a cookie up and holding it in front of his lips.

Charles hesitates for just a second too long. Your face falls and he scrambles to take a bite, barely suppressing a wince as he chews on what feels like a solid lump of chalk mixed with peanut shavings. He forces himself to swallow it down with an enthusiastic grin.

“Wow, these are incredible!” He lies through his teeth. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

You perk up immediately, the dejected look vanishing. “You really think so? I tried a new recipe I found online.”

“Definitely a winner,” Charles affirms, trying his best to sound convincing. “We should bring some to the paddock for everyone to try.”

Your eyes light up at the suggestion and guilt twists in Charles’s gut. The last thing he wants is for the other drivers to have to suffer through these … confections. But he could never be the one to shatter your baking dreams.

The next day at the track, you eagerly pass around the plate of peanut butter hockey pucks to the drivers and crew. Charles discreetly pulls Max aside with a pained look.

“Please, I’m begging you …” he murmurs under his breath. “Just smile and nod, no matter how bad they are.”

Max grimaces as he takes an experimental bite of one of the cookies, his expression doing little to mask his revulsion. But he meets Charles’s pleading gaze and forces out a strangled, “Mmm … great!”

One by one, the others follow suit — fake smiles and strained praises as they choke down your baked atrocities. You remain obliviously pleased, unaware of their suffering.

Over the next few weeks, the vegan baking experiments only seem to get worse and worse. The paddock has become a silent circle of culinary martyrs — all sworn to an unspoken code to preserve your feelings at all costs.

You proudly present a tray of charcoal-colored muffins that leave the entire garage coughing from the plume of burnt flour. “Tried a new recipe for dark chocolate avocado muffins!” You explain brightly.

“Can’t wait to dig in,” Lando is close to crying, his eyes already watering.

Charles has to bite back a laugh as Max takes a heroic bite, barely managing to keep it together. He pats the Dutchman on the back firmly as the poor guy fights back a gag reflex.

“Two more words about her baking and you’ll be racing with three wheels next season,” he warns Carlos in a low mutter after witnessing the Spaniard nearly vomit up a slice of your “moist” vegan zucchini bread.

The sheer willpower it takes for the entire crew to maintain the facade is almost impressive. Technique and strategy meetings have now become immense displays of unspoken fortitude — everyone driven by the simple goal of not letting you catch on that your baked goods are, in fact, completely inedible.

Charles has started bringing backup protein bars and shakes to every race just to make sure nobody accidentally lapses into baked good-induced delirium.

He really has no idea how much longer this can possibly be sustained. But he also has no idea how to safely extract the situation without demolishing your passion and self-confidence in the process.

For now, his main objective is to ensure your bright smile and cheerfulness remain unchanged — no matter how many mouths he has to personally silence to make that happen.

At the end of the day, having you by his side, radiating that infectious joy and following your heart’s desire, is worth enduring all the subpar vegan muffins in the world.

He’ll take a bite of your latest abomination with an adoring grin, because that’s what partners who truly love each other do — they support each other through the good, the bad, and the burnt-to-a-crisp.

***

It’s the start of a new season, and Charles has been racking his brain for a solution to the ongoing baking saga. As much as he loves indulging your passion, the charade is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. The entire paddock is at their wits’ end trying to choke down your vegan torture devices week after week.

That’s when he has an idea — one he hopes will be a win-win for everyone involved.

“Surprise!” He says with an excited grin, presenting you with the envelopes. “I got us signed up for this baking course. I thought it could be fun for us to take some classes together!”

You’re beaming as you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s such a thoughtful idea! I would love nothing more.”

Of course, Charles being Charles is hardly fully forthright about his motivations. “To be honest, I’m the one who really needs the help,” he fibs sheepishly. “We all know I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But with your talents guiding me, maybe there’s hope!”

Over the next few weeks, you and Charles diligently show up for your baking classes. The instructor walks you through fundamentals like properly measuring ingredients, controlling oven temperatures, and mastering technical skills. Slowly but surely, your creations start emerging looking (and smelling) better and better.

One evening, you return home with a fresh tray of beautifully baked chocolate chip cookies — the first delicacy you’ve felt confident enough to bake since the lessons. You present them to Charles with bated breath.

He takes one tentative bite, his eyes widening in surprise. These are actually ... edible! More than edible — they are legitimately delicious! The dough-to-chip ratio is perfect, the texture is chewy but not dry or crumbly. He quickly stuffs two more into his mouth with an appreciative moan.

“Ma belle … these are incredible!” He gasps out between bites.

You clap your hands over your mouth, eyes shining with glee. “Oh my gosh, you really think so? I was so nervous!”

“Are you kidding? I could eat this entire tray all by myself!”

The two of you dissolve into celebratory laughter and hugs, the sweet taste of success quite literally on your tongues.

“I think it’s time for the real taste test,” you declare one day, rolling up your sleeves as you start prepping an array of fresh baked goods. “We’re taking these bad boys to the paddock!”

The next race weekend, you stride in carrying bakery boxes of your fresh chocolate chip cookies as well as some decadent fudge brownies.

“Fresh out of the oven!” You announce proudly, setting them down with a bright grin. “Who’s hungry?”

For a long beat, nobody moves. The drivers exchange wary glances, their self-preservation instincts kicking in as they recall the many baking debacles of the past. Lando bravely reaches for a brownie first, his face scrunched up preemptively-

Only to blink in surprise as the rich, fudgy flavor hits his taste buds. His eyes widen comically as he takes another bite. “Bloody hell ... this is actually good!”

The words seem to shatter the suspended tension. Soon the entire paddock is swarming the trays, devouring the fresh baked goods with delight. Charles watches on in disbelief, his own taste buds experiencing flavors he didn’t even know were possible from your former creations.

He sees Max take a bite of one of the cookies, freezing in place as his eyes slip closed with an expression of pure bliss. When they open again, Charles is alarmed to see they’re glistening with unshed tears.

The Dutchman wordlessly holds up the cookie, gazing at Charles reverently as a lone tear trails down his cheek. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he brings the baked good to his lips and takes another sensual bite, savoring it like it’s the first good thing he’s ever tasted.

From then on, it’s like a switch has been flipped. The paddock that once dreaded your baking now seemingly can’t get enough of it. Every race weekend, they await your fresh creations with unrestrained enthusiasm, like kids on a sugar bender.

Charles has lost count of how many times he’s caught drivers and crew sneaking off to wherever you’re prepping the latest batch, nostrils flaring as they try to scout out that heavenly aroma.

It’s gotten to the point where Max’s performance coach has had to implement strict rules about his treat consumption to prevent indulgences from derailing his season.

“Easy there, Max!” Rupert calls in a booming tone, swooping in to physically restrain the Dutchman as he makes a mad dash toward where you’re unpacking that week’s fresh delivery. “You know you have a limit on those.”

Max strains against his performance coach’s grip, eyes zeroing in on the platter of goodies being unloaded with unrestrained longing. “I don’t care, she brought triple chocolate cookie dough brownies this time! Let me go!”

Rupert grunts in exertion, struggling to keep his driver in check. “This is for your own good! Think of your diet!”

“That’s irrelevant!” Max practically snarls, pupils blown wide like an addict suffering from withdrawals. “Do you have any idea how long I waited to have real baked goods again?”

It’s a battle of wills and metabolism that quickly becomes a weekly sight. Charles can’t help but chuckle fondly as he watches Max and Rupert’s familiar tug-of-war happen like clockwork every Sunday.

As much as he’d love to intervene, he knows better than to come between Max and your heavenly baked creations. He’s just thrilled that this baking journey took such a delicious turn — both for your invigorated culinary passion and for the safety of everyone’s tastebuds.

Honestly, he’ll take the sight of a feverish Max drooling over freshly baked goods any day over having to choke down burnt muffins and brittle biscuits. This is the sweet upgrade everyone had been dreaming about.

The true recipe for happiness was sticking by each other’s side through all those halfbaked stumbles.

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youaresimplylovely · 3 days

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F1 Drivers React to you pranking them that you're pregnant ><

Warnings: plot twist with max at the end and a lil smutty ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡

#f1 #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 au #f1 blurb #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader

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regrettablytifosi · 1 day

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adrian newey opening his messages from james vowels tonight

#adrian newey #williams racing #f1 #formula 1

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csainzoperator · 3 days

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college bf! f1 drivers pt 1 ☆

summary: college bf! f1 drivers text messages with small written snippets based on the texts :)

warnings: fem pronouns, kys jokes, cursing, mentions of kissing, kissing, slightly suggestive, nicknames (baby, babe, love), typos (?)

read more below the cut !

charles leclerc

you grab a can of grape soda and search for a place to sit. you find a corner near the window, the fresh spring breeze rustling your hair. you sit down and wait patiently for charles. a few minutes later he's walking inside the canteen, towards you. he's smiling big and as soon as he reaches you, he grabs your face, placing chaste kisses on your cheek and lips.

"hey, baby" he greets you. you smile and reply "hi"

he takes a seat beside you and raises his eyebrows, like he's waiting for you to do something. you raise your eyebrows in return. he grumbles out a few words which you cannot decipher. you nudge him softly as you ask him to repeat. "i didn't get my kiss!" he says, rolling his eyes playfully.

"oh you big baby" you say as you grab his face a drop a few kisses on his cheek. your lipstick staining his cheek. you caress his cheek to wipe it away. "happy?" you question him. he nods, "very. afterall, i ditched my class to be here with you."

your smile fades a bit, feeling a little guilty as you had called him so abruptly. you shove him playfully, making him stand up "go back, the class would've just started. you can still make it"

he frowns. he shakes his head, "its not an important class, he's just doing some revision."

"revision is important! i just needed to see my boyfriend for a little boost. i'm good now. go!"

he reluctantly lets go. he places a kiss on your forehead and promises to come visit your dorm later in the evening. you smile up at him and reach for your soda, only to see it in charles' hand. he gives you a wink as he leaves, taking a sip from the can.

carlos sainz

the game had just ended, and you were so incredibly proud of your boyfriend. he had scored a goal for the team. the winning goal. you smiled in excitement, waiting for the team to let go of your boyfriend so you can congratulate him. he spots you standing nearby and excuses himself from his team mates. he walks over to you, picking you up as he reaches you.

you yelp in surprise and hold onto him tight. wrapping your arms around his neck, laughing. "congrats, baby. that was amazing!" he smiles brightly, kissing your cheek. "thank you, mia cara" he says. he puts you down gently and wraps his arms around you.

"you came" he says, kissing the side of your forehead.

"i wouldn't be anywhere else"

after a few seconds, you swat him away. "look at all that sweat. ugh get away from me" you complain, rolling your eyes playfully

he picks you up again, walking towards his car. "put me down, you sick fuck" you wrap your arms around him as he fastens his pace, making you laugh. "now i'm all sweat"

"gives us another reason to shower together" he says, a slight smirk making its way onto his face.

lewis hamilton

you pick your phone up as soon as you're done showering and putting on some comfortable clothes. you click on the face time button and set your phone up on the bed, pillows as the support. you wait for lewis to pick, which doesn't take long as he picks up in a couple of rings.

you smile at him "what's up, princess?" the words slip past you automatically, like you've said this to him a thousand times. which you have.

he grunts in mock annoyance. "come save me, i'm stuck here" he says, his face showing how he hated being in that party. you could hear loud snarky music in the background.

"i wish i could, i left my car for service" you smile at him apologetically. he groans and starts walking towards a balcony of some sort, or an open space. it was much more peaceful. you could hear him more clearly now.

"will you please stay with me on ft for a while? until my room mate decides to leave. which will be soon because he's drunk out of his mind." he says, sitting down on a stool. the night breeze making him shiver.

you spoke for a few minutes until his friend decided to leave. lewis said he'd be near your dorm after dropping his mate in the room. he said he desperately needed your hug.

george russell

you shared your live location with george. you were currently walking towards your dorm. you felt his strong cologne engulf you before his arms did. you smile as you walk with george, his arm draped around your waist. "well, hello there" you amuse.

"don't you ever scare me like that. do you know how much i died on the inside?" he questions you, giving your waist a squeeze. you kiss his cheek, hoping to calm his nerves. "i told you, baby! i fell asleep in the library. ms sanders woke me up. i was exhausted after that 12 page essay"

"its okay, i know. you need to rest, love. did you eat yet?" he questions, as you both enter your dorm.

you shake your head, "i had breakfast, slept through lunch"

he looks at you like you've grown two heads. he grabs your hand and starts walking towards the exit. you let out a chuckle "now where are we headed to, girl?"

he looks at you, giving you a mock glare. "girl? what happened to bf, love, baby, cutie?"

he tells you to wait near the exit. a few minutes later, he's there with his bike. he motions for you to hop on. you smile as you get on, getting comfortable behind him. "we are getting some food into that stomach of yours" he says, handing you your helmet.

you wrap your arms around his torso. you knew. you knew, even if he had the most important thing to do, he would drop it to look after you. not because you were his girlfriend. but because you were his priority. because you were important. and he was deeply, madly, desperately, messily in love with you.

max verstappen

you were in your university park, sitting under a tree. the guy you were supposed to be doing your political science project was doing anything but the project. you were not a patient person, and it was getting harder as the guy even kept touching your shoulder now and then.

to your rescue, your boyfriend was right there. he walked towards the both of you. he took his seat next to you, giving the guy a timid 'pls fuck of soon' smile. he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. he sat there as you guys actually started to discuss your project.

the guy clearly didn't get the hint as he still tried to make contact with you now and then. the third time, max was done with all the utter bullshit that he was witnessing. he pulled you closer to him

"you know, i would really like it if you got your stupid ass hand off my girl" he says, making the guy frown in annoyance. within seconds, the guy is scurrying off.

you let out a delayed laugh. you look up at max. he shrugs, giving you an innocent smile. "you can't actually say that, max!"

he kisses your forehead, whispering "i just did, baby."

he brushes your arm near the place where the guy touched you. "what are you doing?" you question.

"dusting off his filthiness from you. maybe we should get back to my dorm. shower the filthiness off after i watch you finish on my face." he offers his reply. you shove him playfully. "you're the filthy one"

he stares, kissing your lips softly, mumbling, "you make me."

the end

an: had so much fun making these. hope u enjoy!

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jpnriikicore · 2 days

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── sweet baby

paring charles leclerc x mom!reader, word count 328, genre fluff, summary in which a mom has to cancel her date with a formula one driver due to her son having the flu, ( masterlist )

a familiar rhythmic knock on your apartment door. the apartment was pretty clean, but you were left in an elvis presley t-shirt that goes down mid-thigh with unruly hair. charles leclerc, the man you’ve been dating for a few months now. you'd never met someone quite as nice and generous as him. you extended your hand out to receive the bouquet of yellow flowers that he held. he remembered. he remembered that yellow lilies are your favorite.

he pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead as he closed the door behind him. warmth bloomed in your heart similar to a flower blooming in the spring. the endearment mon chéri fell from his lips.

you’ve exchanged the aging pink lilies with the new bouquet of yellow ones in the vase that you designed in pottery class sitting on her windowsill above the sink.

black and white reruns play on the tv at a low volume. your baby boy face first on the couch with his car toys scattered on the living room carpet. noah, your kid holding tightly onto his bear stuff toy and dressed in their teddy bear onesie. he scoops up the kid in his arms gently cradling him.

you weren’t going to leave your kid with a high fever in the care of somebody else who wasn’t you. even after you decided to stay home with your kid who needed care. the babysitter called saying they had to cancel anyway.

you swore you'd never been so in love before. the sun rays beaming through the flimsy sheen curtains perfectly lighting his face. he looked down at him and cooed as he rocked the kid gently in his big arms. his thumb rubbing over the baby’s dark full head of hair. your gaze filled with love and admiration. this seemed so natural. he glanced at her for a brief moment before returning his gaze to the baby in his arms.

"he’s so beautiful, mon chéri."

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x female oc #f1 grid x reader

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eightyonefour · 1 day

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same landosc, just another year ✨

#landoscar #lando norris #oscar piastri #f1 #formula 1

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lorarri · 2 days

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★ . . . 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 , 𝐋𝐍𝟒

summary , when making a guest appearance on your youtube series chicken shop date you were surprised by how much you actually enjoyed his company and the rest was history

pairing , lando norris x fem! youtuber! reader

main masterlist | f1 masterlist | lando norris masterlist

yourinstagram now playing: friday - riton, nightcrawlers, mufasa & hypeman

liked by landonorris charles_leclerc 89,279,365 others

yourinstagram landonorris has my heart racing 🏎️ chickenshopdate out Friday !

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user Lando is literally perfect for this you don't understand

user brb need a pit stop you two are too good together ❤️‍🔥

user ICONIC collab 😮‍💨🙌🏽

user cold

charles_leclerc me next??? ⤷ landonorris no she mine ⤷ yourinstagram ummmmm since when sirrrr

user STOP STOP STOP IM SCREAMING!!!!!!!!

user He’s P1 in our hearts 😍🧡

user Get him some fish sticks

user ok song choice, you know what’s up

user can already hear his giggles

user Yeah, we needed this for sure

user IT'S FRIDAY THENNN 🕺

user Lando buzzing that he gets to eat a proper meal for once 😂

user At this point I don’t watch for the celebrities, I watch for Y/N.

user the capri sun is so iconic

user Weird, I’m jealous of a ketchup bottle

user BROOO IS THAT HOW IT FEELS TO GO ON A DATE WITH LANDOOO!???? cause im in

user We can’t gatekeep him anymore😭

user So this is what a date with Lando Norris is like?

user not him and charles beefing in the comments over Y/N 😭😭

user 😭 HOW 😭 DOES 😭 IT 😭 FEEL 😭 TO 😭 BE 😭 LIVING 😭 MY 😭DREAM 😭

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yourinstagram . 2hrs ago

seen by landonorris maxverstappen1 57,279,364 others

landonorris replied to your story!

you love me really

no comment

yourinstagram

yourinstagram The secret is out 💋 chickenshopdate with landonorris out now!

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user RUNNING TO WATCH RN

user Y/N if you don’t I will

user Please make out with every guest, okay thank you bye

user STOP SMILING MAN WHAT THE HECK HE IS SO CUTE

user “i’m down” fell to my knees in the grocery store

user LMFAOO the way she answered “playing hard to get” too😭😭😭😭

user The LIP BITE after the ‘even hotter if I was in there’ 😅😅😅 OH MY

user LMAO she still didn’t follow him back😭😭😭😭😭

user lmk when someone writes this fanfic pls

user Y/N. This man is in love with you.

user Man was offended by "thats why your not winning" 😭

user Nah because they’re cuteeeee together 😩😩

user Wow I think I might like this one more than the one with central cee 😭

user Freaking get married right now

user he’s so bashful loveeee

user best duo ever ahahahahaah so chaotic

user Wasn’t long enough!!!!! 😭😭

user Okay, now I need every F1 racer to do chicken shop date

user This is a real date

user Lmao, best crossover

user This is illegal 😭 too cute😍

user PLS HE COULDN'T EVEN STOP BLUSHING 😩😩😩

user Amelia, this is so darn cute, please just date him already

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Y/N L/N → LANDO NORRIS | CHICKEN SHOP DATE

landonorris

liked by yourinstagram carlossainz55 89,265,186 others

landonorris Gonna go get my appendix removed. Apparently you do it and you win a race soooooo…. congrats Carlitos 🌶️ #weightloss

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user CARLANDO. 🙏

yourinstagram Yay you were faster !!! 😍 xxx ⤷ landonorris all for you bae ⤷ user 😭💀 ⤷ user CSD effect💅 ⤷ user HELP HE WAS ⤷ user followed him back after getting on the podium 😂😂😂 ⤷ user it’s the power of love….🎶 ⤷ user more Y/N motivation 😍😍😍👏👏 ⤷ user FAV WAG 🥰 ⤷ user the most supportive gf for real ⤷ user not him calling her bae on the main

user What a duo 🔥

user Another Carlando podium….Another happy day 😁

user every racing driver about to go remove their appendix

user CARLANDO NATION! WE WON 🧡❤️

user All drivers take notes 📝 🤣🤣

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landonorris and yourinstagram . 4hrs ago

seen by carlossainz55 charles_leclerc 79,394,579 others

charles_leclerc replied to yourinstagram story!

so is this still a no for that chicken shop date??

get lando's blessing and then we'll talk

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lillysbigwilly · 2 days

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Privacy (ln4 x fem reader)

in which… y/n l/n lives a rather private life but her boyfriend is like the complete opposite

faceclaim - girls i got off pinterest

yourusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, landonorris and 30 others

yourusername just your regular wagtivities

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landonorris my good luck charm 🧡

yourusername is that an invitation to the next one?

landonorris always for you

lilymhe i’ve missed you wife

yourusername i’ve missed you more wife

charlesleclerc should’ve been in ferrari

landonorris um how about no

yourusername sorry charlie i’m a mclaren girl

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, f1 and others

landonorris today i raced for you! p2 in china🧡

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username guys i love themmm

username epitome of private but not a secret

username no bc it’s crazy that we know little to nothing about her apart from her name and what she looks like

yourusername i love you more than anything

landonorris i love you always

lnfour our favourite grid couple

yourusername

liked by landonorris, f1 and others

yourusername from watching you kart when we were kids to watching you in f1, my forever, three years together and so much more to come. i suppose people deserve to see you from my perspective and not just through races. i love you endlessly muppet🧡

comments on this post are limited

landonorris my forever girl x

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #smau #lando norris #lando norizz #lando norris x reader #lando norris smau

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countingstars-17 · 12 hours

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Leo sleeping in Charles' hoodie pocket ❤️

#so cute 😭#charles leclerc #f1 #formula 1

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flyingcakeee · 3 days

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"F1 is being ruined by weird people"

May I introduce you to, once again, the people who work(ed) in F1 and it's feeder series?

Weird camera angles, genuinely almost kissing, pictures with little to no context, Kimi's Lego car with oranges as wheels, questions all around, it all checks out.

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scuderiafemboy · 2 days

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max: im coming! in hard! oh thats. not how i meant to say that.

crane: u’ve got to stop threatening me with a good time. alright?

he gets me im afraid!!!!!

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #verstappen #mv1

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elia-the-bibliophile · 2 days

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Flavors of Fate (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)

Genre: Fluff Word count: 3,1k

Recently laid-off chef, Y/N, unexpectedly meets F1 racer Max Verstappen during a late night beer run. As Heinekens flow and culinary tales are exchanged, sparks ignite in the most unexpected of places. But just when Y/N thinks life can't get any more surprising, Max presents her with a proposition of a lifetime.

In the bustling heart of Monte Carlo, the rich aroma of sizzling spices and savory meats permeated the air, mingling with the lively chatter of diners and the rhythmic clinking of silverware. Y/N, a spirited chef, commanded the kitchen of “Casa del Sazón,” one of the city's trendiest Mexican restaurants. However, her world was about to be turned upside down.

It was supposed to be like any other night, certainly a pretty average day at first. Y/N navigates the controlled chaos with finesse, her apron adorned with the vibrant colors of her culinary creations. Suddenly, her boss strides into the kitchen with a grave expression etched upon his face. “Y/N, can I have a word?”

Y/N pauses mid-stir, concerned at the serious tone in her boss's voice. “Sure, what's up?”

She saw him taking a deep breath before continuing, “I'm afraid I have some bad news. Due to financial constraints, we have to make some cutbacks, and unfortunately, your position is one of them.”

Y/N's heart sinks as the weight of his words settle upon her. This kitchen had been her sanctuary, her canvas, where she painted with flavors and spices, infusing each dish with her passion for Mexican cuisine.

Her lips curl into a disbelieving scoff. “You must be joking,” she mutters, her voice tinged with a mixture of bewilderment and frustration. “I mean, seriously? I'm the backbone of this kitchen!”

With a swift motion, she reaches out to turn off the stove, the flames extinguishing under her command as if echoing her simmering anger.

Her boss's demeanor softens with empathy, his expression reflecting the weight of the situation. “I know this is hard to hear, Y/N,” he begins, his voice carrying the burden of the decision he's been forced to make. “But in times like these, tough decisions have to be made for the survival of the business.”

Y/N's eyes narrow in response, she meets his gaze with a steely resolve. “Survival of the business, huh?” she retorts, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Well, good luck surviving without me, then.”

She folds her arms across her chest, a defiant stance against the unfairness of it all. “Just remember,” she adds, her voice dripping with sass, “when this place goes down in flames without me, don't come crawling back asking for my recipes. You'll have to figure out how to make your own mediocre tacos.”

Y/N's hands move with purpose as she swiftly gathers her belongings, her apron discarded with a frustrated toss onto the nearest countertop. The once vibrant kitchen now hums with tension, the air thick with the weight of impending change as the other kitchen staffs glance nervously at each other.

As Y/N moves to leave, her boss, panic evident in his voice, steps forward in a desperate attempt to salvage what remains of the evening's service. “Y/N, can't you just finish your shift tonight? It's just one last night,” he pleads, his eyes beseeching her to reconsider.

Y/N halts in her tracks, her gaze locking onto his. “Oh, hell no,” she replies, her voice dripping with venom. “I've had enough of this circus. I'm out.”

With a dismissive wave, she brushes past him, her footsteps echoing against the tiled floor as she makes her exit. The boss's pleas fall on deaf ears as she strides out of the kitchen, leaving behind a wake of uncertainty and a boss grappling with the consequences of his decisions.

__________________________________________

Y/N storms out of the restaurant, her frustration visible with each brisk step she takes. Swearing a colorful string of curses under her breath, she heads straight for her regular liquor store. She definitely wants to forget what just happened. And nothing makes her happier than some good beers.

As she enters, the familiar jingle of the bell announces her arrival, chiming merrily in contrast to her sour mood. She’s met with the welcoming smile of Shay, the cashier she's come to know all too well from her frequent beer runs.

“Gimme all the beer you got,” Y/N grumbles, her tone laced with frustration.

Shay chuckles knowingly, leaning against the counter with a sympathetic look. “Rough day, huh? Sorry, hon, but we're fresh out of Heineken.”

Y/N's shoulders slump in disappointment, but Shay's next words lifted her spirit immediately. “But hey, there's another store just down the road that might have what you're looking for. They always keep a good stock of imported beers.”

Y/N's face lights up, relief washing over her. “You're a lifesaver, Shay!” She then blew her a kiss before looking for that store that Shay mentioned.

__________________________________________

Max reaches for the last pack of Heineken, his fingers closing around the cool, familiar shape of the bottles. It's been a long day at the Energy Station, and he's been looking forward to a quiet night in, just him and a cold beer.

As he makes his way towards the cashier, his thoughts already drifting to the comfort of his couch, a woman bursts into the store, her hurried steps echoing through the quiet aisles. She makes a beeline for the cashier, her urgency unmistakable. Max pauses, his curiosity piqued by the sudden commotion. He watches as the woman and the cashier exchange words, their conversation animated and lively, a stark contrast to the tranquility he had anticipated for his evening.

“Apologies, ma'am,” the cashier offers with a sympathetic smile, “—but it appears the last pack has already found a home with that gentleman over there,” he explains, gesturing discreetly towards Max.

He watched her groans in frustration, running a hand through her hair as she tries to come to terms with her string of bad luck. “Seriously? Is there nowhere in this city that has what I'm looking for?” she laments, her voice tinged with exasperation.

Observing the woman's defeated demeanor, Max pieces together her quest for Heinekens. He watches as she wearily settles into an empty chair in the seating area, He can't help but feel a pang of empathy for her obvious disappointment.

After paying for his beers, Max makes a spontaneous decision. With a determined stride, he approaches the woman, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

__________________________________________

The soft glow of overhead lights casts a warm ambiance over the store, lending an air of intimacy to the otherwise mundane surroundings. Y/N sits slumped in her seat, her shoulders sagging, gaze fixed on the floor as she tries to shake off the frustration of her failed beer hunt.

Just as she resigns herself to her fate, a voice breaks through the silence, pulling her from her thoughts. Startled, she looks up to find none other than Max Verstappen standing before her, a friendly smile gracing his features.

“Hey there,” Max greets her, his tone warm and inviting. “I couldn't help but overheard you were in need of some Heinekens. Mind if I share mine with you?” He says, motioning to his pack.

Y/N blinks in surprise, her eyes widening as she recognizes the famous Formula 1 driver standing before her. She can hardly believe her luck as she nods eagerly, a grateful smile spreading across her face.

“Wow, I-I mean, sure! That would be amazing,” she stammers, her cheeks flushing with a mix of disbelief and excitement. “Are you positive? I don’t want to impose.”

Max waves off any notion of inconvenience with a casual shrug, his easygoing demeanor putting Y/N at ease. “Nah, it's no trouble at all. I know how it feels to crave a nice beer,” he reassures her with another grin, genuinely happy to lend a hand.

Taking a seat across from her, Max settles in comfortably, his posture relaxed as he leans back in his chair. The atmosphere around them seems to shift.

With a smooth motion, Max reaches into the pack, retrieving a cold bottle of Heineken and sliding it across the table to Y/N. Her eyes follow his every movement.

As they both crack open their drinks, the sound fills the air with a satisfying echo. Y/N takes a long sip, relishing the refreshing taste of the beer as she savors the moment.

Max then fixed his gaze on Y/N with interest. “So, what's the deal with you?” he asks casually. As if speaking to an old friend.

Y/N chuckles softly, a playful glint dancing in her eyes as she considers his question. “Well, where do I even begin?” she replies, her voice tinged with amusement. “Let's just say today has been a shitshow for me.”

Max's laughter fills the air, a genuine expression of amusement at Y/N's blunt response. Slapping his knees with a grin, he nods in appreciation, recognizing a kindred spirit in her straightforwardness. “I like your style,” he remarks with a chuckle. “I'm a straightforward person myself.”

As he twirls the bottle in his hand, Max leans in with fresh interest, his eyes glued on Y/N as he beckons her to share more about her day. “Yeah, tell me more about it,” he encourages, his tone inviting. “I'm all ears.”

Y/N takes a long, satisfying sip of her beer before launching into her tale. With a sassy tilt of her head, she re-meets Max's gaze head-on. “I'm a chef, you see. Or, well, I was a chef before my boss decided to give me the boot a few hours ago," she explains.

“No way," Max exclaims, his eyes widening in disbelief. “You? Fired? I can't believe it!”

Max point his bottle at you, “I mean, look at you! You've got 'chef' written all over you! I'll admit I myself can barely cook a decent omelette without setting off the smoke alarm. My kitchen skills are sadly nonexistent.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her expression playful yet pointed, “Are you one of those dudes who thinks that cooking is just for women?”

Max feigns offense, clutching his heart dramatically. “No, no, no! It's not like that at all,” he protests, his tone exaggeratedly wounded. “I just... I've always been more of an expert in the fine art of ordering takeout,” he admits with a sheepish grin.

Y/N can't help but tease, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Ah, so the kitchen gossip about the Dutch thinking of eating as a chore because their food is sadly unseasoned is true then, huh?”

Max's eyes widen in mock indignation, his hands flying up in protest. “Hey now, that's not fair!” he exclaims, his defense genuine but laced with humor. “We have some amazing dishes back home! It's just... a different flavor profile,” he insists, though the twinkle in his eye betrays his amusement.

Y/N chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she playfully reassures him, “Oh, don't take it to heart. I'm just teasing.”

Max grins back before noticing that they’ve both finished their drinks. With a practiced motion, he reaches for another bottle, popping it open with practiced ease and sliding it across the table to Y/N. She tilted her head, signaling her thanks.

They enjoyed a minute of comfortable silence before he speaks again, “So, where did you work as a chef?”

Her expression thoughtful as she considers his question. “I used to work at Casa del Sazón,” she replied. “I’m sure you’re familiar with it.”

Max nearly sputters out his drink, his eyes widening in a manner that is almost comical. “Ain't no way!” he exclaims, genuinely surprised by the coincidence. “I'm a regular there! The food is crazy good!”.

Y/N's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, her lips curling into a pleased smile at Max's enthusiastic endorsement. “Well, fancy meeting one of my regulars here.” she exclaims as she throw him a wink.

Max can't help but sing praises for the food, mentioning several of his favorite dishes with childlike enthusiasm. “Seriously, your enchiladas are out of this world,” he declares, his eyes lighting up. “And don't even get me started on the carne asada tacos–it’s like sex on the mouth.”

Y/N's smile grew with each glowing review that Max threw her way, her pride in her culinary creations evident in every word he speaks. “I'm thrilled to hear that you enjoy my cooking that much,” she replies.

As Max raises his hand in a playful salute, Y/N can't help but chuckle at the gesture. “Well, it's an honor to meet the person behind it all,” he says, his tone sincere as he acknowledges Y/N's talent.

Max's keen observation doesn't miss the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanor, despite her attempts to mask her sadness. He notices the flicker of melancholy that crosses her face, a shadow cast over her previously lively demeanor.

Concern creases Max's brow as he watches Y/N's mood darken, his own heart going out to her. With a gentle touch, he reaches out to lay a reassuring hand on her arm, silently offering his support.

Surprised by Max's comforting gesture, Y/N hesitates before tentatively laying her hand on top of his, half expecting him to pull away. Instead, he surprises her by squeezing her hand back gently, his touch warm and reassuring.

Feeling a sense of comfort wash over her, Y/N opens up. “Sorry for souring the mood—“, but before she can finish her sentence, Max cuts her off with a gentle shake of his head.

“There's no need to apologize,” he reassures her, his voice soft but firm. “Your reaction is completely normal, Y/N. It's not healthy to ignore what you're feeling.”

Y/N offers a grateful smile, touched by Max's kindness. “Thank you for being here with me, Max,” she says sincerely. “I'm sure you had other plans before I came crashing in.”

Max's response is immediate, his smile bright. “Ahh no worries at all. Honestly, this unexpected turn of events has been a pleasant surprise,” he replies.

Y/N's eyes flick to the clock on the wall, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise as she realizes the lateness of the hour. “Wow, it's already 2 am,” she remarks.

She then turns to Max, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think it's probably time for us to call it a night,” she says, her tone apologetic. “We've been here longer than I realized.”

Max's own surprise mirrors Y/N's, his eyes widening in realization as he takes in the late hour. A smile tugs at his lips as he considers the passing of time, a testament to the genuine enjoyment he's found in your company.

“Shit, you're right,” he agrees, his tone filled with slight amazement. “I can't believe how quickly the time flew by. I guess that just goes to show how much I've enjoyed talking to you.”

Y/N's cheeks flush with embarrassment at Max's admission, but she can't hide the glee in her smile. “I, uh, I enjoyed talking to you too,” she admits.

As Max and Y/N stand up, a sense of reluctance hangs in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the inevitable end to their impromptu evening together. With a shared sigh, they make their way towards the door, their steps in sync as they exit the store together.

Once outside, the cool night air envelops them, a gentle reminder of the world waiting beyond the confines of their shared moment. Max offers a small smile as he turns to Y/N, his gesture a silent offer of assistance.

“Can I help you find a cab?” he asks, his tone gentle. “I want to make sure you get home safely.”

Y/N shot him a grateful smile as she accepts his offer. “That would be great, thank you.”

As Max reaches for his phone, ready to call a cab, his movements falter as his gaze meets Y/N's once more. There's a flicker of determination in his eyes as he speaks, his voice steady despite the sudden shift in the conversation.

“I must ask you this,” he begins, his words measured. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge, offering Y/N an unexpected proposition.

“I know it's a bit different from your previous job, but... would you consider being my private chef?” he asks, his tone earnest as he lays his cards on the table. “I want to test the waters and see if we can make it work.”

The air around them crackles with anticipation as Max waits for Y/N's response, his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and hope. He knows it's a bold move, but something about Y/N's presence fills him with a sense of certainty. The fact that her specialty happens to be his favorite cuisine is also a huge bonus.

Y/N's eyes widen in surprise at Max's unexpected offer, her heart skipping a beat as she takes in the magnitude of his gesture.

“Max, thank you,” she breathes out. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace, her heart overflowing with emotions.

Caught off guard by Y/N's sudden hug, Max feels his cheeks flush a deep shade of maroon. He tries his best to hide it, but the pounding of his heart is so loud, he's certain that even Y/N could feel it reverberating against his chest.

As Max feels Y/N's embrace, a sense of contentment washes over him, enveloping him whole. Lost in the moment, he finds himself unconsciously pulling her even closer, savoring the feeling of her in his arms. In that fleeting instant, Max realizes just how nice it feels to be hugged by her and how he would very much like to repeat this over and over.

When Y/N pulls away, Max can't help but feel a pang of loss at the sudden absence of her warmth. He finds himself craving more of the contact, a yearning stirring within him as he reluctantly lets her go.

Max's heart skips a beat when she asks him to put his number on her phone, his lips curling into a loopy smile. “Sure,” he replies eagerly, his fingers dancing over her phone as he quickly adds his contact information and hands it back to her.

As their fingers brush against each other in the exchange, Max can't shake the electric thrill that courses through him, a silent promise of the possibilities that lie ahead.

“I’ll ring you up tomorrow.” She said, bringing another shit-eating grin to Max's face.

“I'll hold you to that,” his tone mock threatening as he pretends to wag his finger at her. “And don't forget, I have a particular set of skills. I will track you down if I have to. Monaco is not a big country.”

Y/N lets out a laugh as she playfully rolls her eyes at Max's faux threat. “Your wish is my command,” she replies, her voice filled with mock obedience. “As long as there's another session of beers with a side of Max Verstappen, of course.”

“Deal,” he shots back, eyes dancing with mischief. “You can have it however you want, so long as you keep feeding me with good food. I am a man of simple pleasure, Y/N.”

“That I can do Max, that I can do.”

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