#Lestappen fic

[worldofwordsx]

through the blinding lights 🎞️🤍

#moodboard #lestappen fic #lestappen

[verstappen-cult]

CHASING HEARTS | MV1 & CL16

summary: you’ve been friends with max and charles for quite a while now, but as much as you’ve tried you just can’t keep denying your true feelings anymore. so, what happens when they came knocking on your door demanding an explanation?

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader x charles leclerc. content warnings: hurt/comfort, poly relationship.

“she said she was busy studying,” charles says as he gets out of max’s car parked right in front of your building. “i don’t think we should be here.”

max gives him an exasperated look. “and you really believe that?” when charles shrugs, max can’t help but roll his eyes. “she’s been ignoring us and giving poor excuses to not hang out with us for weeks, don’t you think it’s a little strange?”

charles, in fact, finds it strange. at first he thought nothing of it, but then max came to him ranting about how he saw you hanging out with oscar and lando, laughing about something the younger boy had said, but when he got closer, that beautiful and melodic laugh died in your throat, and you didn't look at him once.

charles just looked at max and waited patiently until the boy stopped his ranting. what came next was a conversation that was bound to happen. but when they tried to approach you they were met with a cold text saying you were too busy, while you tried very hard not to cross paths with them around university.

they just can't take it anymore. ambushing you at your own house it's probably a bad idea, but hey, they need answers.

the elevator ride to your apartment can't be fast enough, max thinks that if he has to spend another minute without knowing what happens he will most definitely go crazy.

the blonde-haired boy slams his fist against your door, anxiety and anger building inside of him. charles has to put his hand on his shoulder to try and ground him.

you open the door wrapped in a very cosy blanket, surprised to find them there. "hi?" you say, at a loss for words. you've missed them, you'd be lying if you say that having them in front of you, even if max looks angry and charles a little sad, it's not what you've been dreaming about.

"hi, sweetheart." charles gives you his signature smile, with dimples on display and everything. "can we come inside?" he asks, but max is already pushing the door open and making his way into your home.

"i can't to his anymore," it's the first thing max says, hands on hips and a frustrated expression on his face. "what is happening? i need an answer now. we need answers. you've kept us in the dark long enough."

charles knows max is hurting and trying very hard not to take it out on you, even if you're the who caused this, so, he takes a step forward.

"we've missed you, right?" the monégasque raises his eyebrows, throwing daggers at him. max sighs, shoulders dropping slightly. "we just need to know why are you ignoring us. and if after that you don't want to see us again, then... we will not force you."

that's exactly what you don't want to do and why you distanced yourself in the first place. you promise yourself you were not going to tell them the reason.

you close the door while wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders, as if that is going to magically make you disappear.

"i—um, it's not..." you avoid making eye contact, fearing that if you do your walls will crumb and you'll let your true feelings rise to the surface. you're in great danger already.

max makes a noncommittal grunt and mutters something under his breath.

you sigh, putting on a brave face. "i just been busy. finals are around the corner and i've been distracted," you raise your eyes to, finally, look at them and charles heart skips a beat, even if he catches your gaze for just a second.

"bullshit," max hisses through his teeth, seeing right through you. why did you thought you'd succeed in lying to them? "did we do something to upset you?"

"no! no, you didn't to anything wrong." you rub your hands over your face, exasperated.

"then why are you doing this?" charles really doesn't understand because you aren't making any sense. "we thought everything was fine.”

max inhales softly, counting to ten in his head. "i even asked lando if he knew something and he said it was not his secret to tell, so, we know something is happening."

"i can't be your friend anymore!" you feel tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"what?" both say at the same time, but you don't have the heart to look at their faces.

max runs his hands through his hair, it's a little too long again and you'd volunteer to cut it if it weren't for what's happening right now.

charles paces around the living room, alternating between looking at you and then at his feet.

"it's not that big of a deal," you shrug, walking past them into the kitchen to make some tea just to have something to do. "it's not like i'm an important part of your life."

they follow you into the kitchen because of course they can't leave it at that.

"what are you talking about?" charles sounds broken, he can't believe you'd think so little of you. and what you actually mean to him and max. "if you really think we can forget about you that easily, then you don't know me. or max." he says, tugging at max's wrist.

"you're very, very important to us. we care about you, we've been so worried—"

"i just can't, okay!?" you turn around, forgetting all about the tea. "i can't get in the way. i won't."

"in the way of what?" max sounds so confused, and when you look at charles, his expression is the same one as the boy standing next to him.

"i know you're together." you whisper, glancing fearfully between them.

"well, obviously." charles chuckles, amusement tilting his voice, but his expression still shows how confused he is. "i mean, we're not exactly subtle about it. and we spend a lot of time together, so, you would've noticed, eventually."

"that's exactly the problem!" you throw your hands in the hair, finally giving up. you can't do it anymore. "i like you." your eyes widen in fear once you hear yourself saying the words you swore to yourself you would not to say out loud.

max looks at charles, but charles keeps looking at you like you've grown a third head or something. and when neither of them says anything, you know you've fucked everything up.

"i like you, too." charles finally says, letting go of max wrist to get closer to you, but he doesn't get too far because you are moving out of the way, away from him as much as you can.

"you don't understand," you look at them with cheeks burning with embarrassment. "i like you. both of you. and not like friends should like other friends, okay? so i can't be friends with you."

max laughs, like actually laughs, throwing his head backwards and all. it makes you feel stupid and tiny in that big, stupid kitchen.

you should not have said it. you should have made something up, you should have acted like a grown ass adult and shove those feelings deep inside of you, forgetting all about wanting to be held by them, and kissed, and comforted.

stupid girl with stupid feelings—

"hey," max says, in a voice too small to be his own. "can i come a little closer?" your shoulders tighten, you really want to say no but you are nodding before your mind can catch up with it.

max walks slowly, being followed closely by charles. they don't want to scare you and have you walking away from them again.

"sometimes," max says carefully as you bite your lip trying to regulate your breathing. "these things happen. we're not actually seeking them but, as most things in life, things happen... i know how that feels, schatje." charles lifts his right hand so, so slowly, until is resting on your hip, fingers pressing into your skin ever so slightly.

"i'm so sorry, max —"

"don't apologize. you don't need to apologize for having feelings." he says and you bite your lower lip harder, tasting blood. you don't deserve his gentleness, you don't deserve charles’ caring touch, you don't deserve anything. "you didn't do anything wrong, okay?”

you open your mouth to say something, but close it again quickly when charles shakes his head.

"you still don't get it, do you?" the brown-haired boy asks, and coos at you when you tilt your head to the side. "max, she doesn't get it."

they share a knowing look, smiling playfully when his eyes are back on you again. you feel lightheaded, aware that something is happening right in front of your eyes but not understanding a single thing.

"we planned on having this conversation a little bit different," charles beings to say as max's hand finds comfort on your lower back. "max would cook something for us and we would eat, then watch and movie and, at the end of the night, we would have this conversation."

max hums, nodding along. "but you ghosted us and fucked all of our plans." the monégasque slaps his chest playfully with his free hand while you feel like you're gonna be sick.

"wha—what are you talking about?" your heart is about to be spilled out onto the floor.

"we like you, too." charles confirms, his voice rumbling through your ears.

"we didn't noticed what was happening at first," max has a small, shy smile on his face as he remembers the exact moment he had the conversation with charles, where both of them ended up crying while trying to understand what it all meant to them. "it was thanks to you ignoring us that we realized our true feelings."

"at least something good happened because of it." charles' voice is small like a child's and, for the first time in forever, you cup his cheek, his skin feeling soft and so warm. you do the same with max, getting goosebumps all over your body.

"you're not playing with me?" you need to be sure before getting your hopes up.

max's grips tightens on you. "we aren't that cruel, baby."

you want to cry. and scream, and laugh, and cry some more.

you look at each other for what feel like ages, you've missed each other so much that now that you are finally reunited, you don't want to be apart anymore.

then, the three of you start giggling like children.

"can i kiss you?" charles shyly ask, earning a snort from max beside him.

your tiny nod it's all he needs to lean in and brush his lips against yours. it's a timid kiss, tasting each other slowly. it's delicate and gentle, you feel like floating up in the air which leaves you feeling dizzy when he eventually pulls away.

max doesn't asks, he just leans and waits for you to make the first move. which you definitely do. there are butterflies in you belly and you feel so nervous that you bump your nose with his, making them both laugh. max grins into the kiss and lets you take all the control, following your lead.

their kisses leave you feeling warm all over and with a buzzing in your ears that even after an hour of making out still won’t go away.

it's stupid and it's not gonna be easy. there are so many preconceptions about poly relationships that you know people will talk. but for now you don't care about anything but the two boys glued to your sides as you cuddle together on the couch.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #lestappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #poly!f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen fluff #f1 grid x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #lestappen fic #lestappen imagine #lestappen x you #poly!relationship

[norrisleclercf1]

This might be real late but I was rewatching the Vegas gp. So if you are up for it, could you do a poly lestapen and reader where Charles gets annoyed about the first lap incident

A/N: It's been so long since I've watched that race, so excuse me if anything is wrong with this, also I've missed my babies lestappen

"Charles, just talk to me," You roll your eyes, knowing that Charles for the past 3 hours has refused to talk to Max since they finished their press conferences. Max had apologized to Charles for pushing him off the track, and you and everyone else thought Charles was perfectly okay, clearly that wasn't true.

The moment the cameras were off them, Charles wasn't saying a word and would only speak to you. The three of you were back from partying and now, Charles was trying to shower while Max was with you in the bathroom whining. "Charlie....please," Max whispers, hating this. You wanted to get involved but, when it came to their racing, you stayed out of it.

Charles gets out, wrapping a towel around his waist and kisses your cheek going to his suitcase to grab some underwear to sleep in. Max stands up quickly and storms into the bedroom and you follow knowing this wasn't to end well.

"If you're so angry with me, why date me? You knew this would happen, especially with us, you said you were fine, why did you lie? To hurt me, because if that was your goal, you've succeeded Charles. You've hurt me more than anyone else I know," Max turns and stalks into the bathroom, slamming the door making it and the wall rattle.

Charles just blinks and sighs, his shoulders deflating and turns facing you. "You've done wrong Charles, he didn't mean to do that. Has he ever apologized to you before? On live TV? Charles, he felt horrible, all he talked about was how bad he felt with what he did. You accepted his apology and made him think everything was okay only for you to ignore him the last 3 hours, that's just cruel." Charles doesn't say anything as you turn and climb into bed, turning your back to him.

"I made the mistake of reviewing the tape with the team, and they were all furious, and I guess....a small part was still angry and, I was being childish." You sit up quick and glare at him. "Don't say it to me, jackass, say it to the one you've actually hurt," You voice holds no heat which has Charles nod his head and move to the bathroom but stops when the door is ripped open by Max.

"I love you," Charles blurts, Max stuttering to a stop and staring at Charles like he grew a second head. "I know that Charl, but you still hurt my feelings," Max whispers and moves around Charles but, Charles grabs his waist and turns him around. "I'm a dick, and deserve to sleep on the couch. But, I'll never use what happens on the track affect the love I have for you and Y/n." Max sighs and moves hugging Charles, melting into his boyfriends hold.

"I love you too, please don't ever ignore me again," Max pleads, squeezing Charles close who sighs leading them to the bed. You make room for them as they lay with you between them. "You two ever argue again about racing, kicking you out of the bed," "Deal," they both agree.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 fluff #f1 angst #charles leclerc angst #max verstappen angst #poly!f1 #poly!lestappen #lestappen fic #lestappen x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff

[solaireverie]

1633 | king of my heart

summary: [ lestappen — social media au ] in which the crown prince of monaco falls in love with a formula 1 driver

warnings: language, implied/referenced homophobia

author’s note: i made a shitpost this morning and here i am now. never let it be said that i don't give the people what they want.

45,299 likes

monacoupdates Crown Prince Charles is present today at the #MonacoGP on behalf of the royal family! The self-professed avid motorsport fan will be spending time in the Ferrari, Alpine, and Red Bull garages.

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user charles is always serving damn

↪ user monaco how does it feel to have won in the crown prince lottery???

↪ user très bien, thanks for asking 😌

liked by pierregasly, f1, hshcrownprincecharles, and 512,920 others

tagged: hshcrownprincecharles, pierregasly

alpinef1team A very special visit from hshcrownprincecharles! #MonacoGP

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user charles at every opportunity: i'm not french! 😠 also charles:

↪ user lmao tbf he's known pierre for a while

↪ user bro how???

↪ user idk f1 drivers hang around monaco a lot and they both speak french

↪ user it's not even just pierre charles is also pretty close with the monaco-based drivers like max and lando

user 10 seconds penalty to ocon for not greeting charles 😂

↪ user poor estie bestie 😭

↪ alpinef1team Esteban did talk with Crown Prince Charles 😉 Just a pity that His Serene Highness had to rush off before we could get pictures...

hshcrownprincecharles has added to their story

seen by maxverstappen1, pierregasly, hshprincelorenzo and 1,293,201 others

liked by carlossainz55, f1, hshcrownprincecharles and 892,103 others

tagged: carlossainz55, hshcrownprincecharles

scuderiaferrari Please welcome hshcrownprincecharles to the #Tifosi for the #MonacoGP 🥳

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hshcrownprincecharles Grazie mille for the opportunity to try the racing driver life!

↪ scuderiaferrari Our pleasure 🥰 hshprincelorenzo and hshprincesspascale can we keep him, s'il vous plait?

↪ hshdukearthur I don't think Lorenzo and Maman would be the only ones against Charles becoming a Ferrari driver 😂

user you don't understand how emotional this makes me 🥹 charles always said that if he could pick any job he'd be a f1 driver and to see him get to experience his dream!! even if for only a day!!!

carlossainz55 Personally I think Charles would be slower than me

↪ hshcrownprincecharles This is lèse-majesté and I will have you thrown into the dungeons for your disrespect to the throne 😤

↪ carlossainz55 pretty sure your brother is the one who can do that...

↪ user does monaco even have dungeons?

redbullracing has added to their story

seen by maxverstappen1, christianhorner, schecoperez and 182,974 others

77,592 likes

mv01updates max post-monaco gp with the crown prince of monaco, his serene highness charles leclerc 😍

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user for some reason these pictures make me feel like i'm 5 years old again and watching my parents be romantic. like i want to scream "get a room" 😂

↪ user not a single unique experience 💀

user ayo 🤨 the helmet pics...

↪ user i stg i've seen pictures of drivers with their actual wives that had less tension

user just kiss already 😩😩😩

liked by hshcrownprincecharles, maxverstappen1, hshprincesspascale, and 8,491,293 others

tagged: hshcrownprincecharles, maxverstappen1

palaisprincierdemonaco La Famille Princière est heureuse d'annoncer les fiançailles du Prince Héréditaire Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc et Max Emilian Verstappen, avec l'accord de S.A.S. le Prince Lorenzo.

The Princely Family is happy to announce the engagement of Crown Prince Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc and Max Emilian Verstappen, with the approval of HSH Prince Lorenzo.

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user i??? what??? what happened to hello??? how are you??? my name is???

↪ user fr i didn't even know max was dating someone lmao

user damn at least we know why they were so touchy at the grand prix now 😂

hshprincelorenzo Félicitations!

user the hAND ON THE THIGH. THE SMILE ON THEIR FACES. I AM UNWELL.

↪ user ALL OF US ARE UNWELL

landonorris does this mean that max gets a title? if so, not fair 😒

↪ pierregasly yeah hshcrownprincecharles, can you knight me or something?

↪ maxverstappen1 go find your own royalty to marry 🙄

↪ landonorris does lewis count? like if i marry him will i become sir lando norris 🤔

↪ sebastianvettel i've asked, and no it does not work like that unfortunately

liked by victoriaverstappen, redbullracing, maxverstappen1 and 912,392 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

gq Presenting our July cover star, Max Verstappen.

The Formula 1 driver, best known for dominating his sport and more recently his engagement with Monaco's beloved Crown Prince Charles, sits down with GQ to discuss what exactly goes on in a two-time world champion's mind.

Verstappen offers insight into the ongoing season, the surprising way the sport helped bring him and his fiancé together, and the pressures of marrying into royalty, especially as part of a same-sex couple.

Read the July cover story at the link in bio.

liked by maxverstappen1, hshprincesspascale, hshdukearthur and 4,283,120 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

hshcrownprincecharles There are many words that can be used to describe love, but you will always be my truest definition 🤍

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hshcrownprincecharles p.s. thank you hshdukearthur for catching the moments just before i proposed on camera 😘

maxverstappen1 Charlie, I can tell you I love you in four languages, and it will never encompass everything I feel for you. Je t'aime, ik houd van je, ich liebe dich, I love you. Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world ❤️

user crying screaming throwing up #relationshipgoals

hshprincesspascale Je suis très contente pour toi, mon cœur. maxverstappen1, bienvenue à la famille! [ i'm so happy for you, my heart. max, welcome to the family! ]

user so if i learn how to drive cars very fast does that mean that i get to marry a prince as well??? if so sign me up 👀

↪ landonorris you also need to be one lucky bastard, otherwise i'd also be on the cover of gq right now

↪ gq maybe next year?

↪ alex_albon he wishes 😂

↪ hshcrownprincecharles first figure out how to flirt, lando norizz 😜

↪ landonorris if max can do it so can i

↪ maxverstappen1 please 🙄 i’ve been watching you make a fool of yourself in front of carlos for five years now

↪ landonorris i hate all of you 😃

↪ hshcrownprincecharles one less place to pay for at the wedding 🤷‍♂️

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist

#solwriting #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 smau #lestappen #charles leclerc #max verstappen #1633 #lestappen fanfic #lestappen fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

[valsmotive]

They were always in the fight - he recalls - It doesn't matter if they were playing a heat or a final, whether it was raining or dry. We were once in Genk, Belgium, in the first free practice round, and the drivers were rolling the engines. But Charles and Max found themselves close together, began to push, and almost focused, risking throwing each other out. Jos Verstappen and I were attached to the safety nets to watch them and he turned around and said, ❛These two will fight forever. They will also fight in Formula 1. A prophecy.❜

#racing #formula 1 #f1 #f1edit #charles leclerc #max verstappen #maxcharles #charlesmax #leclerc verstappen #lestappen #lestappen fic #lestappen au #lestappen fanfic #brocedes #poetry #love #quotes #aesthetic #motorsports #sports #rivalry #sports rival #childhood rivals to friends #enemies to lovers #rivals to friends #web weaving #web #weaving #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

[il-predestinato]

hello beautiful elle

since it is going to be a long 3 months without our boys could you please recommend some fics that you liked? cause i really like your writings and how realistic they are and i wanted to get some of you suggestions for the break!

love you loads

Thank you, lovely anon, for your very kind message! 🥺 I must admit I have fallen behind in reading fics. I am sure I am forgetting some excellent Lestappen fics/writers, but these are some of my all-time favourites!

Lestappen Fic Recs:

And in the end I will seek you out amongst the stars by mandzilkos (@geeeooorrrge) - rating: G, 22k words

Soulmate AU where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate, and the world goes back to black and white after your soulmate dies. This is ALWAYS the first Lestappen fic that comes to mind whenever anyone asks for a recommendation, and it is probably my all-time favourite. The fic that inspired me to write Lestappen, if I'm honest.

getting half of you just ain't enough by shybear_styles - rating: E, 20k words

The friends with benefits story that spans the 2019 season. The only thing better than amazing smut is amazing smut with feels. For sure a top 5 fic in the Lestappen fandom for me. Also, this author is simply amazing in general and you should read all of her fics! I haven't given up hope that she will return one day and write more Lestappen. 🤧

you feel the mornin' feel by shybear_styles - rating: M, 3.3k words

Remember that time Sebastian Vettel asked Charles, "Is he [Max] pretty?" And we never got an answer because Charles descended into gay panic? Well, worry not! We get an answer in this fic.

Monaco Malaise by ProngsfootxJily (@cupidskissx) - rating: E, 8k words

Rivals with benefits, takes place after the 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Yes, this one is delicious smut but also a character study. Both of them are written so well, and it leaves you begging for more. Don't forget to check out the equally amazing sequel! (Don't worry, I have been relentlessly harassing her to write the sequel's sequel.)

algorithm by Anney (@badboy-george) - rating: M, 17k words

In a world where F1 uses simulation-based compatibility tests, five times Max doesn't find the right partner and the one time he does. Black Mirror ("San Junipero" and "Hang the DJ") vibes in the best way. Another one of my absolute favourite fics. If you've read any Lestappen fics, you've probably read "Every Other Sunday." This one is simply a masterpiece by the immensely talented Anney; definitely check out her other fics!

panem et circenses by Anney - rating: E, 13.2k words

Wow - simply devastating, haunting, an ode to these two as drivers, set in a dystopian future AU. The world building is absolutely incredible, but at its heart is such a beautiful story of love and hope. This one doesn't get enough recognition. (TW: implied non-con, not between Lestappen.)

Unlearn by wantinghopingwriting (Tazza1993) (@lightsoutfullhearts) - NR, 45k words

This is another all-time favourite, a must-read. Fake/pretend relationship to lovers multi-chapter story that is ever so satisfying; both of them are so well characterized. Set in a parallel-ish 2022 season. I really cannot recommend this one enough.

the edge of what can be loved by Ledger_m (@the-last-jedis) - rating: T, 13k words

The third wheel fic from the perspective of Max and Charles' various "Steves." It's funny, heartwarming, and everyone on the grid is nosy as fuck.

Charles Leclerc vs Red Bull caps by Ledger_m - rating: T, 6.4k words

Charles is the hero we all need, as he goes on a mission to get rid of all of Max's stupid Red Bull caps. This is REQUIRED reading! Kami is a genius. Go read all of her fics.

If You Don't Play, You'll Never Win by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) - rating: T, 4.1k

Post 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Max wants to take their relationship further; Charles... doesn't. Oh my God, where do I begin to describe how much I love this fic. The language is beautiful, both of them are so well-written, and I feel punched in the gut over and over again in the best way. The ending (well, the whole thing) is so damn satisfying.

all's well that ends well (to end up with you) by stylestappen (@stylestappen) - rating: G, 3k words

Max has a meltdown in the cereal aisle (yes, the cereal aisle) at 3 am when he realizes he is in love with Charles despite the latter's questionable taste in cereal. Dani has an absolutely wicked sense of humour! (Although I don't understand what she has against cocoa puffs 😭.) She also wrote a banger of a Lestappen soon-to-be teammates fic, so make sure to check out her profile.

Max Verstappen: Spotify Extraordinaire by frnndtorres - rating: G, 26k words

Max makes Spotify playlists for the grid. Fluffy, funny, care-free, liberal use of nicknames, with a healthy dose of feels between Max and Charles. A really fun read.

i love the way your green eyes mix with that malibu indigo by altissimozucca (@altisssimozucca) - rating: G, 11k words

Max and Charles spend summer of 2020 together in Malibu and try not to fall in love. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. I feel the urge to explain something: When I first started reading Lestappen, there were less than 250 fics in their entire tag (yeah I know, we are currently close to 3000 fics, which is insane). From 2019-2021, we truly lived off crumbs. So trust me when I say that we owe so much to altissimozucca, who wrote something like 40% of the fics in the Lestappen tag and nearly single-handedly kept us fed in those days. It's so hard to pick one of her fics to recommend, so make sure you check out her profile for more!

#803442 by altissimozucca - rating: M, 1k words

Max and Charles celebrate the end of the 2019 season in a hotel room. So soft, so fluffy, so satisfying.

Bruises by eefiplier - rating: E, 5.1k words

I think of this one as THE Lestappen smut fic. Oh my God, it's 5k words of amazing established relationship smut with all the feels. A classic. I can read this one over and over again.

outside the box by playclock (@endowataru) - rating: M, 6.1k words

Max falls in love with Charles' driving... oh and Charles himself too. They are ultra competitive idiots who are madly in love. There aren't enough established relationship fics out there, but this one is simply amazing. And don't forget to check out this author's profile for additional Lestappen fics. I promise every single one is a banger!

i made it link by link by purpleglasseswrites (@f-ferrari-forever) - rating: M, 4.2k words

Charles and Max try to be kinky, but who are they kidding - they are far too vanilla for that stuff. 🤣 This one is so sweet, and don't forget to read the sequel!

One man's trash, another man's treasure by AzziNow (@track-terror-apologist) - rating: T, 4.2k words

Charles turns into a raccoon and terrorizes everyone except Max. (Well, he terrorizes Max too... slightly.)

Call it madness, call it love… by AzziNow - rating: M, 3.5k words

Ferrari auctions off Charles for charity. No angst, just fluff. Alpha!Max/Alpha!Charles. So I confess that I never read A/B/O fics. There's nothing wrong with it - just not my cup of tea. But I really enjoyed this one. Al has such a chaotic sense of humour.

it all reminds me of you by grandprix (@grandprix-ao3) - rating: E, 3k words

Secret relationship Lestappen with flashbacks. Oh the yearning, the desire, the smut - incredibly satisfying. I must put a plug-in for this author's other Lestappen fics as well. Never misses - make sure to check them out!

burning you into my mind by thightattoos - rating: E, 4.1k words

Porn with feels and possessiveness. You cannot ask for anything more. I must have read this one a dozen times.

an evil plan or two by witchee_writer - rating: T, 5.2k words

Max and Charles are roped into a plan to get Brocedes back together; they come to a few realizations along the way. The only thing better than a Lestappen fic? A Lestappen AND Brocedes fic!

Fine Line by empireoffclouds - rating: NR, 7k words

One of the more light-hearted enemies to friends to lovers fics. I absolutely adore their dynamic here - it's snarky, warm, but also so them. The incomplete sequel is also a super fun read.

Into Darkness Of Thought by flamingosarepink - rating: T, 1k words

After the 2019 Japanese Grand Prix, Charles thinks Max isn't coming back to their shared space.

steal softly under castle walls by untouchableocean - rating: G, 521 words

Max gets home late from Milton Keynes and Charles has already fallen asleep. Short, tooth-rooting fluff of the best kind.

Zoomies by greeny1710 (@maxlambiase) - rating: E, 2.2k words

This one is just hilarious. A (mostly) naked Max walks into Charles' team Zoom call during the COVID lockdown.

...and many, many more that I'm sure I have forgotten! 🙈 You can also check out my AO3 bookmarks (the first few pages are pretty much all Lestappen fics).

Please remember to leave kudos and comments for these amazing writers. The talent in this fandom is absolutely incredible. They all deserve so much recognition. Happy reading!

#max verstappen #charles leclerc #lestappen #lestappen fic #fic recs #elle.ask #anon #a list of incredibly talented people #for reference #fave

[lestappenforever]

Lestappen fic - Ice cream shop owner!Charles AU

I don't typically get excited by AU ideas for Lestappen because Lestappen in canonverse is so appealing to me in and of itself. But, while AO3 was down yesterday, @thearchercore received and answered a whole bunch of asks from lovely anons about a Lestappen AU fic where Charles owns an ice cream shop (as inspired by the news that the man is actually going to open an ice cream shop in Milan.) And, well, for the first time ever, I got excited about a Lestappen AU. So, I wrote something.

This is, obviously, dedicated to the incredible @thearchercore, a true pillar of the Lestappen community, and to each and every anon who has sent in asks about this AU. And because this was entirely inspired by people on Tumblr, you can read the whole fic in this post. ❤️

---

Max realizes that he has probably let this whole thing go too far. Way too far. 

What had started as a chance encounter after the Monza Grand Prix, where Max had gone on a drive and ended up in a small, lovely ice cream shop - LEC - in Milan that served the most delicious vanilla ice cream Max had ever tasted, had spiraled and developed into what was now practically a weekly occurrence. Every chance he got, when the race calendar, his PR and training schedule would allow it, Max would fly to Milan, spending ridiculous amounts of money and contributing an unnecessary amount to further pollute the environment, just to go back to that ice cream shop.

And yes, although the vanilla ice cream was divine, that's not the real reason Max kept coming back. 

No, the real cause of his travels was the ridiculously beautiful shop owner, with the fluffy brown hair, the captivating green eyes Max kind of wanted to drown himself in, and dimples that Max saw every single night when he closed his eyes. And what’s more, the shop owner — Charles — didn't even seem to like Max, because the Monégasque was a die-hard Ferrari fan and he seemed to have made it his personal mission to put all the blame of Ferrari’s lack of success for the past fifteen years on Max. Even if Max hadn’t been in F1 for the entirety of those fifteen years.

Not that he was surprised, really. The passion of the Tifosi did, on more than one occasion, seem to seriously impact their sense of logic and capability of rational thinking. 

And apparently, the beauty, sass and stubbornness of the shop owner did the exact same thing to Max's. 

The irony of that is not lost on him.

The fact that the two of them had discovered they were on the same page about the superior ice cream flavor the first time Max had been in that ice cream shop — “vanilla is my favorite” Max had said at exactly the same time Charles had said “vanilla is the only right choice” — had not been enough to endear him to Charles. His allegiance with Ferrari and Max currently on yet another dominating winning spree with Red Bull was too strong. (Even if there had been the flicker of something in those green eyes when Charles had learned that he and Max were on the same page about vanilla ice cream.)

After yet another failed attempt at charming Charles a few weeks ago, Max had gotten so desperate that he had genuinely started considering a move to Ferrari, even starting to subtly ask around about the possibility, Red Bull’s superior car and strategies be damned. But then word had reached GP and his race engineer had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he would not be moving to Ferrari to impress ‘some ice cream guy in Milan’. Which Max had taken offense to, because Charles was not just ‘some ice cream guy in Milan’, thank you very much.

(Max really had to learn how to keep his mouth shut around GP.)

So yes, his obsession with the ice cream shop and its owner has gone way too far. And yet, on a warm August afternoon, Max finds himself walking back into that ice cream shop. 

Summer break has finally arrived, and Max had genuinely considered renting an apartment in Milan for the next three weeks so he wouldn't have to fly back and forth so much. But then he had come to the conclusion that that would be excessive. 

(Because flying back and forth between Monaco and Milan definitely wasn’t excessive. No, sir.)

Charles is there when Max walks in, as he is every single time Max walks in. The guy never seems to leave his beloved ice cream shop, and Max finds himself wondering if the other man gets enough sleep. Or if he even goes home to sleep, or if he has a bed set up in the back somewhere so he never has to waste time going back and forth between the ice cream shop and his home. 

He may not know Charles all that well, despite seeing him regularly for the past few months, but he does know that the man must have an incredible work ethic. 

The little bell above the door announces his arrival, and Charles looks up from behind the counter. For a brief second, Max is sure he sees a flash of excitement cross those gorgeous features, but the Monégasque quickly schools his expression into one of exasperation and indignation, complete with an overly dramatic eye roll. 

“No Red Bull Racing team members allowed,” Charles tells him with a huff, as he puts a brand-new tub of chocolate ice cream in the display freezer. 

Max snorts as he walks towards the counter. He had expected a frosty — pun intended — reception following Ferrari’s double DNF in the last race before the summer break, so Charles’ grumpy demeanor doesn’t deter him.  

“Hello to you too, Charles,” the Dutchman sing-songs, ignoring the way a couple of teenage girls at a table by the window gape at him. “Let me guess, Ferrari’s double DNF in Belgium was somehow my fault?”

Charles meets his gaze and narrows his eyes. He points an ice cream scoop at him. “I am not sure how, but yes.” He waggles the scoop accusingly. 

It’s Max’s turn to roll his eyes. “Right, because the two of them crashing into each other in turn two, while in P8 and P9 respectively, while I was at the very front definitely had something to do with me?”

“Obviously,” Charles confirms with a sniff. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Max laughs, shaking his head in a manner that can only be described as fond. He comes to a halt in front of the cash register at the counter, and waits for Charles to ask him what he wants. 

But Charles never does; instead busies himself with rearranging the different bowls of topping on top of the display freezer, wiping down the counter, and restocking the ice cream cones, all the while completely ignoring Max’s presence. Or general existence, even.

Eventually, Max runs out of patience.

“I’d like three scoops of vanilla ice cream, please.”

Charles doesn’t even stop what he’s doing. Doesn’t even look at him. “We’re all out of vanilla.”

Max stares. At Charles, then at the almost full tub of vanilla, with its little sign labeling it as vanilla sticking out of the fluffy ice cream. 

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Charles, I can see the vanilla ice cream. It’s right there,” Max insists, pointing at the flavor through the display glass. As if Charles isn’t completely aware of its existence, as if he’s not just being a little shit and punishing Max for something that isn’t even remotely his fault. 

Charles pauses in his bustling to look at Max. Then, he follows the length of Max’s arm to where his finger is pointing directly at the vanilla. His gaze returns to Max’s eyes as he says, deadpan: “That is only a display ice cream.”

Max blinks repeatedly.

“A display ice cream?” he echoes incredulously. 

“Yes,” Charles confirms, raising his chin. “It’s only for display, it is not to be served.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well, it’s like this,” the Monégasque says, lifting one shoulder in a careless shrug. 

Max doesn’t know if he wants to smack him or kiss him. 

(That’s a lie, he knows damn well that he wants to kiss that smug look right off of Charles’ stupidly beautiful face.)

“Fine,” the Dutchman sighs, moving his finger slightly to the right. “Then I would like three scoops of the chocolate.”

“I’m sorry, but that is also only a display ice cream,” Charles tells him with a completely straight face. 

“You’re not serious.”

Charles raises one full eyebrow. “Does it look like I’m joking?” he asks.

And, well, Max has to admit that it absolutely does not. 

He stands there in silence for a while, wondering why the hell this infuriating man has been the object of his deepest desires for the past few months. Wonders why Charles’ face is the only thing he sees when he closes his eyes to sleep at night, and why he is the one person that keeps appearing in the majority of his dreams. Wonders why, when his mind wanders as he has a secure grip around himself in bed, it keeps wandering to the mental images of what Charles would look like, feel like, sound like if he was there with Max, when all Charles seems to want to do is get under Max’s skin and infuriate him in ways and for reasons Max hadn’t even known he could let himself be infuriated. 

Oh, who is he kidding? Those reasons, coupled with Charles’ overall appearance and being, are exactly why his mind never seems to tire of Charles whatever-the-fuck-his-middle-name-is Leclerc, and only him. 

Max has always been a sucker for challenges. And Charles is definitely a challenge. 

Had Charles been an F1 driver instead of the owner of an ice cream shop, Max just knows their on-track battles would have been epic. Their rivalry would have been one for the ages; their names and lives so intertwined that people could not have mentioned one without also mentioning the other. Because Max is sure that Charles’ passion, his stubbornness and his outright refusal to give in to anything or anyone would have translated into a fierce, unyielding, unapologetic driver. 

Forcing himself out of his reverie, Max gives a quick shake of his head to clear is racing mind. Then, he fixes Charles with a hard stare. 

“Let me guess, these are all ‘display ice creams’?” he asks, gesturing with a hand at the numerous tubs of flavors in the display freezer. 

“Of course not,” Charles scoffs, as if that’s the most ridiculous statement that has been made in the ice cream shop in the past few minutes. “That would be a horrible way to run a business. We have one flavor that is not only for display.”

Max is almost afraid to ask, but he does anyway. “Which is?”

Charles doesn’t answer the question with words, just points to the bottom tub at the far left. The little sign reads ‘Mint chip’.

“Who the fuck eats mint chip ice cream?” Max asks, scrunching up his nose in disgust. “That’s like eating toothpaste.”

For the first time since Max stepped through the door, Charles smiles. A beautiful, self-satisfied, mischievous smile that does things to Max’s body, mind and soul. It makes his heart rate pick up and his skin tingle with an excitement he has no business feeling. 

Pathetic. He’s absolutely pathetic. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Max. That's all I have to offer today.”

And Max, proving just how completely gone he is on this ridiculous man, lets out a long, tired sigh. 

“Three scoops of mint chip, please,” he requests in a voice that is completely resigned. 

Charles’ face lights up like a fucking Christmas tree, and he scurries to get one of the small glass bowls reserved for customers who want to eat their ice cream in the shop, not even needing to ask if that’s what Max is planning to do, or if he wants his ice cream in a cone. And although Charles is doing his damnedest to make Max believe that his general existence on this earth is causing Charles physical pain and emotional turmoil, the fact that Charles remembers his preference doesn’t go unnoticed by Max. 

He won’t even entertain the idea that Charles might just be adamant on making Max sit in his shop and eat his mint chip ice cream so Charles can watch him suffer with every spoonful. 

Charles is generous with the scoops — incredibly so — and Max is sure those three scoops he requested actually equal the size of at least six regular-sized scoops. He realizes that he probably should have asked for one scoop instead of three. He watches as Charles sticks a spoon in the ice cream and places the bowl on the counter in front of Max with the biggest grin on his face.

“It’s on the house,” Charles tells him, probably just to further add to Max’s suffering. 

The Dutchman eyes the bowl of ice cream warily, quietly cursing it and himself, before picking it up with a hesitating hand. Charles watches him expectantly the entire time as Max makes his way to a small table in one corner of the shop. Behind him, a small child, probably around five or six, had entered the shop with his mother while Max was waiting for Charles to finish scooping, and Max hears the boy ask for two scoops of strawberry ice cream. And Charles — the fucking asshole — makes a point out of saying ‘coming right up’ in both Italian and English just to fuck with Max some more.

Max takes a seat with his back to the window so he can face Charles. Because if nothing else, he’s not going to let Charles win.

The first spoonful really does taste like toothpaste with a hint of chocolate, and it’s an awful combination. It takes every ounce of willpower Max has not to let the disgust he’s feeling show on his face. He lets the ice cream melt in his mouth for a long moment, before swallowing the disgusting liquidized ice cream, all the while maintaining a completely unaffected expression. 

Charles watches him eat the entire bowl of ice cream, and Max never breaks eye contact. With every expressionless swallow, Max can see the thinly veiled disappointment on Charles’ face and the satisfaction he gets from that is enough to motivate him to finish every single bite. He even makes a point out of scraping the melted remains of the ice cream from the sides of the bowl, scooping it up into a mint green coloured soup in his spoon, and eating it. He even briefly considers licking the bowl clean just to get a rise out of Charles, but the Monégasque turns away from him with a huff before he can put his plan into action.

Which, thank fuck, because Max is starting to feel a bit sick from the ridiculous amount of toothpaste-flavored ice cream he has just consumed out of spite and spite alone. He pushes the bowl forward and away from himself on the table with a frown.

Charles goes back to ignoring his presence for the next fifteen minutes, and Max waits. Just because he can — just because he knows this wasn’t the outcome Charles had expected and he wants to revel in the satisfaction of finally getting under Charles’ skin for once for a little while longer. 

Eventually, Charles comes to collect his empty bowl and gives Max a disapproving glare. 

“Well? How was it?”

And Max, unable to resist, gives Charles his biggest, brightest smile. “It was delicious, thank you.”

If looks could kill, Max would have been dead. Then, Charles turns on his heels and walks away with Max’s empty bowl and spoon. 

Taking the win, Max gets to his feet and waits for Charles to look over at him from behind the counter. When he does, he gives the other man a wave. “See you tomorrow, Charles.”

“You’re not coming back tomorrow!” Charles shoots back.

“Oh, but I am,” Max counters. It sounds like a promise, and it is. 

As he walks out of the ice cream shop, feeling Charles’ gaze boring into the back of his head as he does, Max pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts looking up hotels in the area with available rooms.

***

Max stays in Milan for two weeks, and he goes to Charles’ ice cream shop every single day. 

Every day, Charles tells him the only flavor he can serve him is mint chip. By day three, Max has stopped trying to argue with him. By day five, Max orders vanilla and Charles responds with ‘three scoops of mint chip coming up’. And every day, Max sits at his little table by the window to eat his ice cream while Charles stands behind the counter, watching him eat the entire time. 

Every. Single. Day. 

And every single day, Max can see Charles’ resolve crumbling, little by little, convincing him that his tragic efforts are not in complete vain. They might be mostly in vain, but Max is in far too deep at this point to care.

On the eighth day, Max stays until closing and Charles spends the majority of his free moments actually hanging around Max’s table and engaging him in conversation. It's a step in the right direction, even if Charles does end up kicking the Dutchman out when he has to count the register.

And on the eleventh day, as Max is about to leave after finishing yet another disgusting, massive portion of mint chip ice cream, Charles finds himself looking at the blond from behind the counter, watching as Max smiles down at his phone. Those piercing blue eyes are crinkling in delight, causing adorable smile lines to appear at their corners, his full, inviting lips stretching to expose his straight, white teeth. A wave of something — jealousy, Charles would define it as if he wasn’t a pigheaded dick when it comes to four-time F1 World Champion Max Emilian Verstappen — washes over him at the thought of whatever or whoever it is that puts that smile on Max's face. 

It makes the Monégasque realize that all of his attempts over the past few months to convince himself that he doesn’t find Max attractive or charming as hell, and that he definitely doesn’t want to find out whether Max likes vanilla in bed, too, have been for naught. 

And so, with an overwhelming feeling that he's losing a battle he's been fighting for months, Charles throws away the paper towel he had been using to dry his hands and resigns himself to his fate. Because sometimes, perseverence needs to be rewarded.

And he's not just referring to Max's.

“You can take me out to dinner tonight,” he tells Max, and it sounds like the statement pains him. Which it kind of does.

Max stops dead, one hand on the door handle, half-turned to face Charles. The look on his face is one of utter surprise.

“Really?” he asks, and he sounds so fucking hopeful that it should probably make Charles change his mind. But instead, it makes him want to close up the shop immediately and let Max take him out to dinner right fucking now.

Which is pathetic, really. But then again, so is the way Charles has been waking up every day hoping Max Verstappen would walk through the door of his ice cream shop for the past few months.

But, having no intention of showing his hand, Charles maintains a stoic expression as he nods. 

“Pick me up here at nine.”

Max's smile is so wide that Charles wonders if it makes his cheeks hurt. He also wonders if said cheeks will feel as warm to the touch as they look.

“Okay,” Max says, still smiling. “Then I'll see you again at nine.”

And with that, Max turns, pulls the door open, and walks out of the shop. 

When Charles can only just see the back of the Dutchman through the window, he sees Max stopping briefly on the sidewalk and pumping his fist in the air in the same celebratory manner Charles has seen after so many victorious races over the years.

He looks ridiculous, and Charles might just be falling a little bit in love with him.

Charles doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

***

It turns out that Max's preferences in bed are far more adventurous than his taste in ice cream.

Which turns out to be yet another thing they're on the same page about.

#Lestappen #Lestappen fic #My writing #thearchercore #Ice cream shop AU

[maaxverstappen]

help me hold onto you | T | 4/12

f1driver!max and streamer!charles

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

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

based on this prompt sent to @f1prompts

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

[nico-di-genova]

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

or

“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

(for lestappen please, you can choose whichever one you prefer (or both, I would not mind both)) have a great day <3

32. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

“You’re ignoring me,” Max states when he manages to get Charles alone for the first time in nearly a week. It is a feat accomplished only by knocking on his hotel room door until the Monegasque either grows tired of the noise or fearful of the attention it will bring. Charles Leclerc does not do anything he does not want to do, and it is clear at the moment he does not want to see Max. Even if he says otherwise.

“I am not.”

“Liar.”

“I am not lying.”

It’s clear he is, from the tension in his shoulders to the set of his jaw, to the way he keep glancing between Max’s feet, the door behind him, the blood red sleeve of a Ferrari hoodie that’s been thrown across his bed. Anywhere other than Max’s steel-eyed gaze and the hurt that must be obvious there.

Max knows how to read him, he’s had years of practice by now and the drive to study. Charles is far too expressive for his own good, his eyes betraying him when he does briefly glance at Max and there’s mirrored pain there. He looks away quickly, knows Max will see it, bites his bottom lip and curls tighter in on himself against the dresser he’s propped back on.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Max asks, calm, because he knows that raised voices accomplish nothing. His parents taught him that.

“I don’t know what I did wrong, Charles. You have to tell me, please, because I cannot read your mind.”

Not for lack of trying, not for lack of want. He’s spent countless nights studying Charles’ face in his sleep, the curve of his lips, the mole where his jaw meets his ear, another next to his nose, the way his eyelashes fan across his cheeks in a way that makes Max’s stomach do summersaults. He’s tried cataloging every expression Charles has ever given him simply for the pure organization of it. Like understanding Charles was a sport and he was going for the title, but it is the one game he cannot seem to win. The one where Charles always finds a way to throw him for a loop right as Max thinks he’s finally putting together the pieces.

Charles shifts against the dresser, uncomfortable under the pure weight of Max’s gaze. He swallows and Max watches as his adams apple bobs. A week ago he was pressing kisses there. A week ago Charles let him.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

Charles shakes his head, “You did not do anything.”

His voice is thick with tears, the way he gets after a particularly rough quali, or a DNF where he comes out with bruised ribs and fractured confidence. Max steps forward, the urge to comfort, soothe, fix overriding him, but forces himself to pause. His reaching hand drops back limply to his side, spasms with the memory of Charles’ shoulder beneath his palm.

Charles’ hands fist tighter around the fabric of his shirt, where he’s attempting to comfort himself.

“Then what is going on?”

“I-,” he shakes his head like he’s clearing away a memory, clenches his eyes closed until Max can see the tears beading at the corners, “I think I am in love with you.”

He opens his eyes and Max is confronted with the glassy shine of unshed tears.

“And I am terrified.”

If there was air in the room before it quickly evacuates, sucking Max’s ability to speak right out with it. He thinks of a week ago, the way the confession had fallen so easily from his lips while it looks like it is ripped from Charles now – carved  from his chest and placed before Max bloody and still beating with the truth of it.

He opens his mouth, he closes it.

Charles tries to wipe away the tears with the back of his shaking hand and it only spurs them into falling, trailing down his sunburned cheeks and dripping in splotches onto the fabric of his white shirt. Max watches them spread across the cotton.

“Charles.” He forces out around the lump in his throat, the only word he can manage because it is a name he would know even if all others left him. He speaks it like a prayer, like a promise, like there is nothing else.

Charles sobs, chokes, and then he’s stumbling forward as Max catches him with the ease of someone who would never let him fall.

‘This sport. It takes from you...It is like this.’ Charles had once whispered to him in the dim light of another hotel room in Japan. When Max had heard him muffling his sobs in the bathroom and knew not to press against a wound that was raw. He’d let him cry, let him pretend Max hadn’t heard, and held him that night until Charles fell asleep against him with his head tucked beneath Max’s chin.

When he woke the next morning, Charles was gone. They didn’t speak of it again.

“I’m here,” Max promises now, the same way he had whispered it into the dark of that hotel room, against the soft tufts of Charles' hair as he slept. “I’m right here.”

Max can feel Charles' fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt along his back, pressing deep enough he scratches along skin.

“I love you. And I’m right here.”

And he’s terrified too. Terrified of the way Charles makes him feel a way he’s never felt before. Max hates the feeling of unpredictability, hates that he’s come to frequently feel it with Charles. With racing, it is simple. He puts his helmet on, he drives, he takes corners that he’s practiced on the sim so many times that he can see them in his sleep. He knows how the car should feel beneath him, and he trusts his team to fix it when he tells them what is wrong. Charles is not a car. Charles cries easy, laughs easy, speaks easy, changes between moods with a frequency Max often cannot predict. He is the boy that would send Max into the barriers if pressed to, and the man who can dance along the track with him tire to tire until the end. He is perhaps the only person Max could know, truly know, down to the core of him, and the enigma who Max will never be able to solve.

He's fucking terrified of loving him. But he holds Charles anyway.

“You will leave,” Charles whispers against Max’s neck, muffled and so quiet Max knows Charles is hoping he does not hear.

Max hates to be told what he will do. He and Charles share the same stubborn drive to ignore whatever predestined path they were set on. Charles drives for Ferrari because he wants to. Max wins championships because he can. They aren’t doing it because the universe told them it was what they were meant to do, or because Max’s dad kept his hands taped to that steering wheel and pushed him into this. Charles could leave, he’s got a contract that is firmly under his own control, and Max could quit tomorrow simply because he got bored of it all. They could both fuck off to the middle of nowhere and sell ice cream from a hut simply because they had the money and means to do so. So maybe Max will leave, and maybe he won’t, and maybe he'll crash his car and maybe he’ll make it safely back to his and Charles’ bed. Who knows. He certainly doesn’t

“I might,” he says, in the same easy tone he tells GP that the car is handling like shit, feeling the way Charles freezes at the statement, “I might do a lot of things. But I will still love you in the end of it.”

He traces a finger along Charles' spine, from the notch in his neck to the dip of his back. Charles shudders, sniffles, buries himself closer to Max like he’s trying to mold them into one. He’s still crying, Max can feel the fresh tears warm against his carotid, spilling down to his collarbone and collecting at the hem of his shirt.

“Will you love me?” he asks, raw and honest, letting the ache of it fill his voice so Charles knows the truth of it, of him. Max does not ask for much, he’s learned to be content with what he has, but he’s asking now. Hoping in a way that is unfamiliar to him.

When Charles nods, it is like air returning to his lungs, like crossing the finish line and hearing GP’s voice tell him he’s won his third title. Victory, and euphoria, and the rush of adrenaline hitting him all in one fell swoop.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I love you,” Charles pulls away from him so he can meet Max’s gaze. His eyes are red-rimmed, bloodshot to shit, there’s snot beneath his nose. Max thinks he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He lifts a hand to cup Charles’ cheek and the man leans into the touch, slots perfectly against his palm that splays along his jaw. He brushes a stray tear away with his thumb and Charles’ eyes flutter closed at the touch before blinking open to meet his once more - wide, and green, and so honest - so familiar.

Max leans forward to press their foreheads together, warm breath mingling between them.

“I am terrified, but I love you,” Charles whispers, “and I’m sorry for pushing you away. It hurts too much sometimes.”

“It hurts to not know what I did wrong,” Max counters, continuing to stroke his thumb along Charles’ cheekbone, to comfort the part of him that thought he might have been losing this.

“Sorry.”

“No- Charlie, no. Don’t be sorry, just- just trust me next time, okay? Or try. I’m not going anywhere right now. You have me.”

I’m yours, he wants to say, always yours. He thinks he maybe always has been, been chasing the boy with stubborn resilience and cutting resolve for his whole life. Instead he holds Charles until the tears stop falling and their breaths come easier and the world stops feeling like it’s falling out from beneath both of them.  

I love you, and it is fucking terrifying he thinks, but god is it worth it.

When Charles looks up at him, with the quirk of his lips, the tear tracks drying on his cheeks, and the vulnerability in his eyes Max knows he feels the same.

He’s been studying, after all.

#lestappen #charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen fic #my fic #writing them feels a little bit like coming home #I can't lie #they are such a comfort to me

[wisteriagoesvroom]

some time in the last few days the lestappen tag surpassed 3000 fics on ao3?? hearty congratulations to my fellow brainrotters. everybody who contributed to the collective mental breakdown. anyone who has written in the tag. given a kudos. read a fic. left a comment. onwards and upwards, fellow delulu soldiers.

#lestappen #lestappen fic #f1 rpf #and reminder to keep fics and fandom content to the walled garden!! #wisteria talks

[nowheref1ction]

My fic rn:

Max: *Looking at Charles dreamily* What are you thinking about, Charlie?

Charles: Breaking your fathers jaw.

Max: …

Charles: Sorry.

Max: Don’t be.

#lestappen fanfic #lestappen fanfiction #lestappen fic #lestappen #charles leclerc #max verstappen #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

[ladysomething]

Prompt: they didn't know they were dating lol

oh my GOD yes.

they're always eat each other's places. Charles has a toothbrush at Max's. Max has a drawer at Charles'.

They sleep in the same bed like half the nights of a week. when they're not together, they're texting. Charles sends Max pictures of everything that catches his eye, which is basically everything, and Max always shows the photos to whoever he's with.

"Look at the photo Charles just took," he says proudly to anybody who stops in front of him for two seconds. "Isn't he so talented?"

And it's like a slightly blurry, out of focus photo of a wilted daffodil crushed into the pavement.

and the thing is they're both going on dates with other people, but they always go badly and neither of them can figure out why, and then Pierre is like, "Well, what do you talk about on your dates?"

And Charles is like, "I don't know, just about racing and stuff?"

And Pierre says, "Hm. Does that mean you talk about Max?"

And Charles is like, "Uh, I don't know, I guess?"

And Pierre says, "And then after the date goes bad, what do you do?"

And Charles explains that he'll go back to Max's house and snuggle into bed with him - Max was waiting up, obviously, anxious and feeling sick to his stomach that this might be the time Charles likes the person, but not sure why he feels that way.

So Pierre says, "Mate, do you think maybe people are turned off because you're actually dating Max?"

Charles obviously goes into complete denial, and then he'll go back to Max's (where else would he go?) and take stock and then freak out and be like to Max, "Pierre has this insane idea that we're dating but we're not, right?"

Max immediately says that they're not, obviously, they're just two friends who are pretty close. And, "There's nothing wrong with two mates sharing a bed, Charles. So what if you haven't been to your house in a week?"

Anyway, they'd both then be a little awkward around each other for a while, because even though they agree out loud that they're not dating, secretly they're both like ... "Are we? And if we aren't ... can we be?"

It would all come to head because one of them actually does go out on date with somebody they like (lets make it Max) and then Charles is sad and anxious because Max didn't come to his apartment like he usually does after a date, and Charles feels SICK with jealousy because is Max fucking somebody else? He doesn't want Max to fuck anybody else.

So he rushes over, pounding on the door, all worked up, and then immediately launches into a tirade when Max opens the door and shoves his way in saying, "Kick the other person out, I don't want you to see them again, I want you to be with me."

And Max gently explains that he couldn't go through with it because he's already in love, and then they kiss!

#anon ask #lestappen fic #lestappen #lestappen fic ideas

[lxndonorris]

racing hearts - lestappen

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smutish, Teasing, Touching tension rises during the pre-season testing, a sign of what's to come throughout the year x word count: 1600+ taglist: @game-set-canet I just needed this little interlude ;P

Max breathes in the familiar scent of adrenaline and burning rubber as he steps out of the sleek Red Bull racing car, his heart still pounding from the exhilarating test session. The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the paddock, and Max can't help but feel a surge of contentment wash over him.

The first official testing for the upcoming season has just begun, and it is a moment he has been eagerly anticipating. Max glances down at his new Red Bull racing suit, the iconic logo emblazoned across the chest. He looks so good. As he adjusts his helmet, he can't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling within him. 

He had pushed the car to its limits, weaving through corners with precision, and clocked some impressive lap times. With a radiant smile spreading across his face, he takes his helmet off and leaves the Red Bull garage to take a break inside his motorhome. 

The rush of adrenaline still courses through his veins, leaving him feeling alive and invigorated. It had been far too long since he had experienced the thrill of racing, and now that he is back behind the wheel, every fiber of his being thrums with pure pleasure.

As he peels off his racing gloves, Max can't help but revel in the sensation of racing lingering inside him as he walks through the paddock, basking in the afterglow of a successful test session. His body hums with energy, every muscle taut and coiled with tension.

With each step he takes, Max feels the tension inside his body and the subtle flexing of his muscles as he moves with purpose and grace. The sheer joy of being back on track is written across his face, his eyes sparkling with excitement, and his chest swelling with pride.

Max can't shake the feeling of euphoria that pulses through him. Racing is more than just a sport to him; it is a way of life, a passion that burned deep within his soul. 

As he strolls through the bustling paddock, a sense of nostalgia washes over him, mingling with the thrill of anticipation for the upcoming season. Memories of the previous season flood his mind, each one punctuated by the exhilarating rush of adrenaline and the sweet taste of victory. It had felt incredible to stand on top of the podium and hold the trophy up in the air, knowing all his hard work had paid off.

Then he reaches the familiar haven of his motorhome, and a smile plays at the corner of his lips. Max opens the door, steps inside, and begins to peel off his racing gear, the fabric clinging to his skin with a mixture of sweat and triumph.

Before he can pull the zipper down in its entirety, a familiar voice cuts through the air, causing him to pause mid-motion.

"Max""

Turning, Max's grin widens as he spots Charles, his childhood rival and now his secret lover. Despite their fierce competition on track, their relationship off it is one of mutual respect and passion. 

Charles stands leaning against the side of the motorhome, his red racing suit unzipped and hanging around his waist, accentuating every curve and contour of his athletic frame. The dimming light of the evening sun casts a golden hue over him, highlighting the allure that seems to radiate from every pore.

"Hey Charlie!" Max greets him, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and intrigue. "How was your session?"

Charles smirks, his gaze raking over Max's form with a hunger that sends shivers down Max's spine. "Not bad. But I think I left you some big shoes to fill out there." 

Max chuckles, unable to tear his eyes away from Charles' captivating gaze. The tension between them is palpable—a dance of desire and competition that has ignited since the end of the last season. 

It started innocently enough—a shared moment of camaraderie that blossomed into something much deeper. And now, as they stand face-to-face, the air crackles with the electricity of their secretive romance.

Charles takes a step closer into the motorhome, his movements oozing with self-confidence and a lingering desire that sends Max's heart racing faster than any of their race cars. "You know, it's going to be much harder for you to become a world champion with me on your tail."

Max feels a thrill run down his spine at the challenge in Charles' words. Leaning in closer, he brushed his lips against Charles' while closing the door behind him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Charles tilts his head slightly, his hands moving to rest gently on Max's chest, fingers tracing slow circles across his frim muscles. The touch ignites a fire within him that burns hotter with each passing moment.

"I missed fighting you on track," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. "Those battles during testing were...so much fun."

Max lets out a deep, rumbling growl in response, relishing the feel of Charles's hands exploring his body. He leans into his touch, his own hands coming to rest on Charles's waist, pulling him closer.

Max's gaze drifts downward, lingering on the tantalizing sight of their bodies mere inches apart. Despite the close proximity, the space between them seems charged with tension, each breath they take heavy with desire.

His eyes trace the contours of Charles's athletic frame, admiring the way his racing suit hugs every curve and muscle with precision.

A low, primal sound rumbles in Max's throat as he licks his lips, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight before him. The sleek fabric of these red fireproofs clings to Charles's skin, leaving little to the imagination and sparking a fierce hunger within Max. He can't help but marvel at how effortlessly Charles wears the suit, exuding confidence and allure with every moment.

The sight of his boyfriend in his racing gear never fails to stir something primal within him, awakening a need that only Charles could satisfy.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Max teases, "Admit it, you're showing off your tight fireproofs to mess with me."

Charles smirks, his gaze smoldering with lust. "Maybe I am," he admits, not bothering to hide the truth. Instead, he leans closer, his lips brushing against Max's ear. "But seeing the way you react to them...just makes me hard." 

Max's breath catches in his throat at the confession, his heart pounding in his chest. The thought of Charles intentionally teasing him, of knowing the effect it has on Max, only fuels the fire between them.

With a low growl, Max surges forward, capturing Charles's lips in a fierce kiss, his fingers trailing lightly over the smooth fabric of Charles's undergarments. His touch is electric, sending sparks flying between them as their bodies press together, molding into one another with a sense of urgency and longing.

Charles pulls away for a moment, meeting Max's longing gaze with a playful smirk. He teases Max further, his fingers tracing the zipper of his racing suit, Max's breath hitches in excitement.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Charles begins to unzip his suit, the fabric parting to reveal the tantalizing glimpse of Max's muscles bulging through his fireproofs.

Max's heart races as Charles's hand slips inside, his touch sending waves of pleasure cascading through him. The sensation of his fingers stroking Max's chest is tingling, each caress leaving him craving more. He leans into the touch, his own hands moving to trace the contours of Charles's body, reveling in the feel of his boyfriend's warmth beneath his fingertips.

Both of their bodies, all of their muscles are hard as rock as more tension builds up inside them.

"I can't wait to fight on the track again," Charles murmurs again. "And this time, I will be on top."

Max lets out a low groan once Charles's hand reaches his crotch; all of this teasing causes his member to grow and bulge inside his tight suit.

He knows Charles is a formidable opponent, one who pushes him to his limits both on and off the racetrack. The thought of facing him on the track once more fills Max with a heady mix of lust and desire.

"We will see about that," Max whispers, playing with Charles's nipples, desperately trying to pierce his shirt.

With a chuckle, Charles reluctantly pulls away from Max, his fingers lingering on the zipper of his racing suit for a moment longer. He can't resist stealing one last admiring glance at Max's physique—his chest so firm and his length tenting visibly—his gaze lingering on the alluring sight of his unzipped suit.

"You know," Charles smirks, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "I won't be able to hide this." He grabs himself through his suit and fondles with his own member. Max bites his lower lip, touching himself as well.

"All I want is to battle you and win." Charles's smirk grows wider while he runs a hand along his length and up his chest to his neck, stroking himself again and again.

Max's heart skips a beat at the declaration, his own desire echoing his sentiments. He knows their battles on track are more than just a competition; they are a test of skill, determination, and passion.

With a shy smirk, Max steps closer to Charles, their bodies still tingling with the heat of their shared desire. "Bring it on," he replies, his voice filled with confidence.

As Charles turns to leave, Max can't help but admire the grace and strength in his stride. Their love may be a secret, but the fire that burns between them is undeniable. 

Max watches Charles leave, his heart heavy with longing, feeling a pang of disappointment that their time together was cut short. The sight of Charles stroking himself before turning back for one last look will linger in Max's mind.

With a sigh, Max gets back into his motorhome, resting for the upcoming race next week.

#lestappen #lestappen fic #lestappen fanfiction #lestappen smut #max verstappen x charles leclerc #max x charles #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lestappen imagine

[laura1633]

Hii,

can you do a short little drabble about the sky interview Charles gave, more precisely about Max teasing him about the truth of his statement.

“I think you are probably speaking to the worst person to comment on that because I am the least sensitive to any kind of bottoming.”

Of course anon, thanks for sending through the prompt, here are a few short words ♥️ I have ignored the fact that this happened in Bahrain (because of laws etc there)

----------

“Least sensitive to any kind of bottoming” Max mumbles as he falls in step with Charles in the paddock.

“Bottoming?” Charles’ attention shoots up immediately from his phone to make sure nobody else is within earshot of their conversation, “What are you doing? Not here” Charles hisses as his cheeks start to redden. His relationship with Max is new, so new that he still hasn’t quite worked out how to remain normal around the Dutchman in public. Max seems far more blasé about keeping the whole thing secret, despite neither of them being out publicly yet. 

“I’m not the one bragging to sky sports about being the best at bottoming” Max laughs as he keeps his gaze fixed forward. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Charles quickly tries to mentally scan through everything he has said to anybody and everybody over the last few days. He absolutely has not been talking about his sex life especially not to sky, that would be quite the way to come out. No pre-prepared statement, no warning to his team, just a declaration that he likes to bottom whilst his rival pins him to the bed and fucks into him. The Monegasque starts re-running the interview with sky through in his mind but he needn’t worry about trying to recall it, Max helpfully holds up a phone screen and Charles wants to die of embarrassment as soon as he sees the quote. 

The Monegasque’s face goes redder than his race suit. 

“Baby I know you are getting used to bottoming now but there is no need to tell everyone” Max smirks, his eyes flickering excitedly as he looks across to Charles.

Charles feels his whole body heating up as he re-reads what he said. ‘Any kind of bottoming’ Why did he have to say any kind?!

“So if you are the least sensitive does that means I am going to have to put in a bit more effort to make sure you really feel it” 

Charles swallows thickly, there are people everywhere, microphones and cameras all around them. The idea of Max giving it to him rough and hard next time makes his legs tingle. He still can’t believe he said ‘any kind of bottoming’ though. Sometimes he really does think he is an idiot, “It was just a slip of the tongue” Charles tries to explain quietly 

“A slip of the tongue? You like that too don’t you, a slip of the tongue to get you all loosened up?”

“Max!” Charles’ voice comes out all scratchy and whiny and the tingles in his legs intensify until they feel like jelly and are barely able to support his weight. 

He does in fact like it when Max uses his tongue to open him up, he doesn’t want the whole paddock knowing that though. They don’t all need a mental image of Max with his face buried against Charles’ ass as he sucks and licks at his hole until it’s all wet and gaping.

“I think you knew what you were saying” Max hums happily, “I am proud of you, I like a guy who loves getting fucked in the ass and doesn’t care who knows about it” 

Charles feels like he’s about to stop breathing. He didn’t mean to say it, or at least consciously he didn’t think it through. It’s probably true though. A few bumps here and there don’t really bother him. Sure it sends a few shockwaves up his spine but no more than when he’s being split open on Max’s cock. 

“Max!” Charles squeals as the Dutchman grabs him by the waist and drags him down the side of a motorhome. Despite his words of protest Charles does actually move pliantly, he is used to Max manhandling him into all sorts of positions now. 

“Max, we can’t do it here” Charles looks around, they are most likely out of sight from most of the public glare but there are still people milling around only meters away from them. 

“I wasn’t going to fuck you now” Max laughs but looks a little shocked, “Maybe you are the least sensitive at bottoming if you want to fuck just before quali” 

Charles makes a strange gargled sound, even his hands have turned red now. The fact people are probably joking and speculating about his statement should probably be embarrassing but he’s a little turned on by it. Turned on by the fact that currently only him and Max know the truth - that when it comes to bottoming he really is very accustomed to it, a natural even. He doesn’t just handle it, he craves it. 

“We have ten minutes” Charles chokes out quietly, his whole body feels tense now, his muscles tightly coiled, “We could if you want, in your drivers room though” 

Max’s grin widens as he grabs Charles by the hand and not very discreetly at all drags him through the paddock and back to his drivers room ready to test out how sensitive to bottoming the Monegasque really is. 

#lestappen fanfiction #lestappen #lestappen fic

[wanderingblindly]

hi liquid my darling :))) for your kiss prompts, in aid of you practising these prompt drabbles (and for my own indulgence xo) pls write whichever pairing your heart desires to the prompt of “wanna practise?” :’) thank u i love u

Please feel free to ask me more kiss prompts, which I definitely fill at some point in time (unspecified).

Wedding Bells, Wedding Kisses (Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, 900 words, drabble)

“Max!” Charles calls, slamming the front door open with significantly more force than necessary – dramatic, as always. Max mutes the stream he’s lurking in, thankful that he wasn’t on audio, and calls back.

“What’s up?”

Charles storms into the office, following the sound of Max’s voice. He stands in the doorway, cheeks a little red and chest moving like he’d run in from the parking garage. Despite the visible distress, Max can’t help but think that he looks adorable like this: worked-up over something that – inevitably – doesn’t actually matter. “Yeah?” Max starts again, half wondering if he’s meant to try and figure it out himself. 

“The wedding.” Charles breathes, voice still a little shaky with whatever energy he’s buzzing on.

“The wedding.” Max nods along, as if it makes total sense, standing from his office chair. “You’re… nervous?” He prods gently as he makes his way towards the door, stopping when they’re face to face.

“How do you… how do we kiss? For the wedding.” He looks at Max with those wide, earnest eyes that always hit him right in the gut – trusting and honest and vulnerable. 

But Max can’t help it: he laughs a little, no more than a snort. Charles ran up to the apartment, hair on end and eyes frantic, to ask about how to kiss? When they’ve kissed for years? Charles punches him on the arm before he can actually answer. 

“Stop laughing, I’m serious!” He cries, voice one step away from a true whine. “How are we meant to kiss?”

“Like we always do?” Max offers, voice still light with laughter as Charles rolls his eyes dramatically. 

“It’s not the same, Max. We do not have one, a wedding kiss.”

Max takes another step closer, closing the minimal distance between him and Charles – standing nearly chest to chest in the office doorway. He looks down at him, just a few centimeters that somehow makes all the difference, and takes in the state of his lips – clearly bitten during whatever bout of anxiety caught hold of him in the car. And it hits him:

“We can, of course…” He starts, watching Charles’s eyes flick to his own lips before meeting his gaze again. “Wanna practice?”

—

Max guides them to the couch, shooing away the cats and grabbing Charles by the shoulders – urging him to sit. “So,” He starts, sitting down next to him carefully. 

Charles looks nervous, hands gripping his thighs tightly, straining his jeans. Frazzled isn’t a strong enough word; he looks shaken to his core. Somehow, Max thinks, he looks even more distressed than when he tried to make a move on him for the first time – terribly drunk and painfully endearing, wearing his tux and still holding his Rookie of the Year trophy. 

“Like this, then?” Max asks, leaning in and placing the most chaste of kisses on Charles’s cheek, right on the spot where his dimple forms. 

Charles giggles, nervous and fleeting. “At least pretend you like me, yes?” His dimples are on display, his laugh firming up as Max pulls away and rolls his eyes. 

“Sure, yeah, I can do that,” He says, moving a hand to Charles’s jaw, tilting his head ever so slightly in a familiar motion. With practiced ease, he slots their lips together. He can feel Charles continue to relax in his hand, the tension he holds in his face easing as Max sweeps his thumb along his cheek. 

He sighs into it, making that little noise in the back of his throat that means he’s content, and Max takes it as an invitation. His hand slides to the base of Charles’s skull, fingers finding their spot in his soft, overgrown hair. Charles leans into him, allowing Max to pull them tighter together – allowing him to gently coax his mouth open, allowing him to kiss him deeper, to let him taste him fully.

Max moves his other hand to Charles’s hip, silently urging him to come closer, when Charles pulls away – lips stained Max’s favorite shade of blush. They match his cheeks, both alive from his touch. 

“My mother will be there, you know,” Charles laughs a little, pushing against Max’s chest playfully. “Be respectful.” Max is listening, really, but it’s like part of him has been ignited; Charles almost seems bashful, chin tucked towards his chest slightly, long hair flopped boyishly over his forehead, lashes dark against his cheek as he looks down.

Max isn’t listening. 

“Give her my apologies,” He smiles, grabbing Charles’s hips with both hands and pulling him onto his lap – earning a surprised noise, something between a gasp and a giggle. “My self control, you know,” He catches Charles’s lips again, tasting that delicious blush like it’s the first time “It’s not so good.”

“Max,” Charles tries to chastise him, voice closer to a moan than a beratement. 

“Let’s practice later, ok? Wedding kissing,” Max says, moving his lips lower – hoping to elicit that hiccupy breath he loves so much when he touches him just right. With a delicate brush against the sensitive skin under his jaw, sliding up to catch his earlobe between his teeth, he whispers: “What d’you think?”

“I –” Charles starts, sentence falling off as Max slides a hand up his shirt, tracing the curve of his spine with feather-light touches. “Yeah, yes, um. Later, right.”

“Thought so.”

#MY ANGEL MY DEAREST DEAREST WIFE I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY #i had so many other scenes in mind that it gave me decision paralysis and so i decided to strip it down to its bare bones #maybe i'll expand it later!!!! #lestappen #lestappen fic #lestappen fanfic #f1 drabble #ask me :)

[celientjeee]

Shut Up and Drive

(Charles/Max, 45k, complete)

Max pointed at Charles’ bags. ‘Is this all you're bringing or will there be more?’

Oh so he was making fun of him now, well Charles could do the same. ‘You mean more than the four white t-shirts you brought?’

Max blinked at him for a couple of seconds before his entire face lit up and he giggled. He giggled.

‘Good one, and I actually brought five t-shirts,’ Max replied, still smiling.

Was he serious? Charles hoped not.

OR: Charles and Max are 'forced' to go on a road trip together, whatever could go wrong?

--

READ HERE!

This is written for @lestappenweek day one prompt 'first kiss' and will be a multi chaptered fic :)

#CHAPTER ONE IS HERE!!!! #I am SO SO EXCITED for you guys to read it and go on this adventure with me and lestappen #lestappenweek2023 #lestappen #lestappen fic #f1 rpf #celinewrites