#f1xreader
Note
a kimi story where the reader is ollie’s sister and they’re a secret and ollie finds out please
Impromptu Meeting (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Bearman! Reader)
Fandom: RPF/F2/F3
Requested: Clearly (AHHH I LOVE THIS)
Warnings: Making out, brief sex joke (if you squint)
POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)
W.C. 1253
Summary: Maybe sharing a room wasn't a good idea...
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
~~(^Pinterest)
It was not how you imagined introducing your boyfriend to your family, let alone your brother.
You were supposed to be there to support Ollie (which you were!), and it wasn’t like you were sneaking off to another garage or wearing another team’s kit. Thankfully, Kimi had signed to Prema at the beginning of the season, so that was not something you needed to worry about.
When you first met Kimi through a mutual friend, he did not know your brother. Granted, you only introduced yourself by your first name, but drivers stuck with drivers. You assumed he knew that you were associated with one of the drivers. It wasn’t until the middle of the Formula 2 season that Kimi finally made the connection.
You had stayed up the entire night before, catching up on assignments you had been putting off in order to spend more time with Kimi. You had traveled to the track a few days early to meet with him, and you told your family it was for a school trip. You would meet them at the track by Thursday.
It was currently Wednesday, and you were cuddling with Kimi in your hotel room. You may or may not be struggling to stay awake, but that was not really a problem since Kimi had done all of the promotional things he needed to do that morning. Plus, the whole team, namely one of their drivers, was not there yet, so they did not want to get too far ahead without the rest of the team.
You were watching some random lifetime movie on the television as you laid on Kimi’s chest. He may have been reading race strategies, but you were not going to force him to pay attention to the movie when you weren't paying attention anyway. You were more captivated with listening to his heartbeat and watching his concentration focus on the piece of paper. At one point, you moved up a little to lay your head on his shoulder, so you could look at the paper too. Despite growing up surrounded by racing, you still could not understand most of the strategies for the life of you.
“Y’know,” You broke the silence as you shifted your attention to his face. He looked down at you, his concentration being broken as soon as you moved, but he did not say anything. “I really wish I understood any of that jargon. Sometimes I wish I could read it and think ‘Ah, yes! This will be a one-stop race and we’ll pit for mediums.’ I really do sometimes.”
“I thought you just liked the sport,” Kimi laughed as he set the papers to the side. “You really don’t care about the behind the scenes or the strategies. You like cars going fast, and you like the people in the cars.”
“Sometimes, I really wish you didn’t know me as well as you do,” You giggled as you leaned up to peck his lips. He reciprocated immediately, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your back to hold you to him. Your lips moved in sync for who-knows how long, and you were only broken apart by the sound of bags being dropped on the floor. That’s when you finally pulled apart, thinking it was Kimi’s dad or Anthoine, but no. It was Ollie with his jaw on the floor and his hand over his eyes. You moved away from Kimi and approached Ollie, but it’s not like he could see you. You approached him cautiously, reaching out your hand, “Ollie, I can explain.”
To say Kimi was confused would be an understatement. He knew Ollie was going to come today, but why would you need to explain to Ollie? The Prema boys almost always shared a hotel room. He had walked in on Ollie with a few people, so why was he reacting this way when the tables were turned?
“I don’t need to see this!” Ollie complained as he turned around and walked back into the hallway.
“Ollie, wait,” You followed after him, causing Kimi to also climb out of the bed, wanting to get to the bottom of this. He grabbed a keycard just in case as he followed you both toward the stairwell and out to the back of the hotel. “Ollie, please. Give me a chance to explain.”
“You and my teammate? Really?” Ollie sighed, turning around to face you. It did not sound like a disappointed sigh, just a confused one. You could work with that. “Why my teammate? Also, I thought you had a boyfriend!”
“I do! It’s Kimi,” You explained as you moved to stand in front of Ollie. “It’s been Kimi this whole time. We’ve been seeing each other since Paul and I went to the FRECA race at Mugello last year but became official after Hockenheim.”
“All this time I thought you liked Paul,” Ollie commented to himself, but it caused you to laugh. “What?”
“I’ve been around Paul for too long,” You laughed, finally letting out a breath you had been holding. “He’s like a brother too much.”
“Hey! You already have a brother! Don’t go replacing me already!” Ollie protested, and that caught Kimi’s attention. He had been hiding by the stairs, watching you two converse in the parking lot, but at that point, he could not hold back his shock.
“Brother?” He said out loud on accident, causing both of you to look at him. He never realized how similar you looked until that moment. Not identical, but now that you both stood side-by-side, looking at him, it was fairly obvious that you were siblings. “You’re related.”
“Maybe,” You chuckled at the look on his face. Just as much, maybe more, shock than when Ollie saw you and Kimi.
“Yeah, that’s my younger sibling,” Ollie said as he pointed at you before brushing past you to walk up to Kimi. “I get that you’re my teammate, but if you screw this up, I will push you off the track.”
“You’re not gonna forbid me from dating your sibling?” Kimi was confused, but he would accept it with open arms if it meant he got to stay with you.
“No,” Ollie sighed with a smile. “I’ve heard enough about how well you treat them, so I’m not concerned. Don’t make me concerned, Andrea.”
“I’ll try my best,” Kimi replied back with a smile as Ollie pulled him into a hug. Having your older brother’s approval was something you always wanted, so you smiled as well.
“Oh, one more thing,” Ollie started as he turned to look at you, still standing in the spot you were at previously. You slowly walked over to join the two. Ollie turned from smiley to downright serious in the blink of an eye; it almost scared you. “I don’t wanna walk in on you making out ever again.”
“Then, the same rule goes to you,” Kimi joked back, causing you to gape at Ollie.
“You’re making out with people? Ew.” You jokingly pushed away from Ollie, wiping your hands on your shirt.
“You did the same thing! Don’t even try to flip this on me!” Ollie tried to defend
“I have a feeling we should not be sharing a room anymore,” Kimi trailed off to himself as he slowly started moving towards the stairwell again.
“What’s that supposed to mean, Andrea?” Ollie accused as Kimi took off up the stairs. “No! Get back here! We’re not done with this conversation!”
~~~~~
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#andrea kimi antonelli x reader#kimi antonelli x reader#andrea kimi antonelli#kimi antonelli#kimi x reader#ollie bearman#bearman reader#formula 2 imagine#formula two#formula 2 x reader#formula 2#f2 x you#f2 fanfic#f2#f2 x reader#f2 imagine#prema team#prema racing#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1#f1xreader#f1 x reader#bad268#ship268#thing268
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Experimenting || CL16 & MV33
SUMMARY: You’ve always thought Charles wasn’t fully straight, you could tell by the way he looked at certain men and maybe some things he liked in bed but he always seemed too shy to say anything. You decide to call for a helping hand. Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen
WARNINGS: 18+ Terribly written Smut, Male oral, Fingering, Fruity behavior, A*s play, mentions of pinning Frotting, and some more stuff probably.
A/N: in honor of Pride month ig 😪 also want to make it super clear that this is not me imposing a sexuality on anyone, this is obviously a work of FICTION and nothing should be taken as real!
________________
“Fuck yeah right there” Charles whimpered as you stuck a finger in his whole while blowing him.
Ever since you first suggested trying ass play on his part to him a few weeks ago he quickly grew obsessed and you swore you’d never seen Charles cum so har before or emit the noises he did until now.
You knew having a man comfortable enough in bed to try anything didn’t have to mean anything other then them being comfortable in their own sexuality.
Except for you in your years of relationship with Charles you’d grown to notice more and more the way he behaved towards certain men, attractive in both your eyes. The way he got flustered or shy around them and how sometimes you noticed him get turned on by some.
Your suspicious only grew stronger when Charles asked you to try pinning. You could tell he was both exited and nervous watching you put on a strap on starting at a moderate size for him.
He was nervous you could tell but he fell in love with the feeling of having a cock inside of him and as much as he tried to convince himself it was simply the fact that you were doing this to him he couldn’t help but imagine what a real one would feel like.
No, he wasn’t growing bored of you or loosing attraction to you in the slightest it was only that as he grew more comfortable in your relationship, in bed, he had allowed himself to explore himself more in ways he hadn’t found the space too.
Little did he know how much you noticed this and how much it turned you on to see Charles become nothing but mush with all these things you were trying and how much you wished to continue and increase his pleasures as much as you could.
Which is why a few days ago you’d taken the liberty to invite a friend on an adventure with you hoping to get Charles to open up (quite literally).
“Fuck cherie don’t stop! Don’t stop! I’m gonna cum” Charles breath grew erratic as he came into your mouth, your fingers slowing down their pace in his whole.
“Did you enjoy that baby.” You swallowed before you left small kisses on Charles dick making him twitch and gasp from the sensitivity.
“Beaucoup trop” he chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your neck pulling you up to his lips for a kiss. It was hot, he could still partially taste himself on your tongue making his cock twitch slightly.
“I love you.” You whispered after pulling away from the kiss, both your lips swollen and sore from the hours you’d been going at it previous to Charles final release.
“Je t’aime amour.” Charles whispered placing a soft kiss to your temple.
“Charles I need to ask you something.” You propped yourself up on your elbows looking at Charles directly. Your tone was soft trying not to make him nervous.
“What’s up bebe?” Charles smiled, it comforted you.
“I want to try bringing someone else to bed…and I invited Max to come tomorrow.” You revealed.
Out of everything you could’ve said this was the last thing Charles could’ve imagined to come out of your mouth. His mouth opened in surprise trying to wrap his head around what you said also half expecting you to reveal it was a joke.
He felt like he should get angry or at least annoyed for you taking on such a big decision on your own but he couldn’t quite bring himself to feel that way because as much as it scared him to admit it the thought excited him, it aroused him more than he’d liked to admit.
You sensed his hesitation. “I can always cancel baby I don’t want you to feel pressured or do anything you’re -“
“No!” Charles sounded a little more desperate than he intended and you had to fight back the smirk that wanted to appear on your lips. “No…it’s fine I’m okay with it…let’s try it.”
This time you allowed yourself to smile. You also took note of the fact that Charles had no protests on Max being your invitee and instead you could see the twinkle in his eye at the mention of his name.
Maybe the lestappen fan base aren’t as delusional as they seem, you thought to yourself.
______________
“Are you sure you wanna do this baby?” You asked Charles one last time. Max should be arriving at any minute but you wanted to make sure Charles was 100% sure and comfortable with what was about to happen.
“Yes amour I’m sure. I promise.” Charles answered just as there was a knock at the door. His stomach fluttered but he couldn’t tell if it was nerves, excitement or both.
You rushed to answer the door, Charles taking a deep breath before following after you. It wasn’t until you opened the door and his eyes connected with Max’s did he realize he had no idea what you told Max.
Did Max know you wanted to have a threesome with him? Or were you both going to try to seduce him? Was Charles meant to play with Max or would that only be you?
He began to get caught up in his thoughts until he felt your hand on his arm. Your touch easing him significantly.
“Charles is a little nervous but I’m sure we can help with that right?” Your eyes remained on Charles even though you directed your question at Max.
“Of course, you know what Dani says this isn’t my first rodeo we can get him to loosen up in no time.” Max patted Charles's chest before letting his hand drop to Charles's waist as he walked past the doorway into your home.
Charles couldn’t ignore the way Max’s words and touch made blood travel right down to his center.
_________
Charles stood in awe watching Max's hand tightly around your bare waist as he made out with you passionately in front of him. He watched as Max's hand traveled down to your ass which was covered by nothing but your red lace before he gave it a squeeze making you let out a soft moan.
Charles wasn't jealous of Max, he was seriously turned on by the sight in front of him. In fact, he was slightly jealous of the fact that your hands were all over Max's abs and the way your hand rubbed up and down his bulge over his underwear.
He started doing the same to himself. Except his heart skipped a beat when he saw Max make eye contact with him while he kept making out with you.
He pulled away from you. "Come here, Charlie," Max called out to him nonchalantly as he carefully pushed you back towards the bed making you sit on it.
"Why don't you help him relax," Max spoke to you this time as he brought Charles in front of you, you got on your knees smirking at Max's proposition before you released Charles from his boxers.
Charles's head fell back as your mouth covered him and you bobbed your head up and down his shaft. His feelings intensified by the fact that Max was rubbing his shoulders, and chest and even letting his fingers flicker his nipples.
"Ah, I won't last long like this." Charles sighed as he grabbed your head softly pulling you off him.
"What do you want us to do then?" You asked as Charles helped you off your knees and you placed a short but deep kiss on Charles's lips.
Max walked around him joining your side as you both faced Charles. It was only then Charles realized Max had stripped completely and now all three of you stood in your full naked glory.
Max was big there was no denying it but he wasn't bigger than Charles which is something he took notice of, although Charles couldn't deny the girth Max carried which made him nervous.
"I don't think I'm ready for..." Charles stumbled on his words as his gaze remained on Max's length.
"That's okay...we can do something else for now," Max reassured him unable to contain the proud smirk on his lips at the way Charles admired him.
"I have just the thing." You couldn't hide your excitement and what you had planned, something you really had been wanting to try, and just the thought got you wet. "Baby lay down on your back for us." you instructed Charles.
He did as you told, trusted you enough not to question it.
"Max can you straddle his thighs please" you then asked Max as you climbed onto the bed kneeling beside Charles.
Max smiled quickly figuring out what you had in mind.
Charles felt tingling in his entire body as he watched Max climb on top of him and jumped slightly when he felt Max's length graze against his skin.
"Relax baby, you'll enjoy this." you leaned down whispering in his ear before leaving kisses down his neck, and chest.
"What now?" Charles breathed getting slightly impatient and frustrated at the urgent need for something to happen.
"Ready baby?" you asked as you kept trailing kisses down his body reaching his dick.
"Yes, please do something." Charles's dick twitched involuntarily as your lips neared it.
He let out a long sigh as you licked a stripe down his length before doing the same to Max. You repeated the step, blowing them a couple of times getting them slick enough for the next step.
Once you felt they were slick enough you finally did it. You had to use both your hands as you joined their dicks together rubbing them against each other slowly while you moved your hands up and down.
Charles let out a guttural moan at the new feeling, his head immediately falling back and pressing into the pillow behind him. His eyes shut tightly, he didn't have to see what you were doing the feeling was overwhelmingly pleasurable enough and he also thought that if he looked he would cum immediately.
It was embarrassing how wet you were from the pleasure you were causing both these men, watching Charles trying to hold back his release and Max's ragged breath as he watched and thrust into your hand.
You jumped when you felt two fingers inside of you not realizing Charles had reached around, of course, he was worried about your pleasure too. He moved his fingers in and out at a rapid pace curling them exactly where he knew.
You almost orgasmed when Charles pulled his fingers out of you and used your juices to coat over his and Max's dick making sure everything remained slick enough, repeating the process of wriggling his fingers inside of you and collecting your wetness multiple times.
"I'm gonna cum." Max announced after a few minutes.
"Me too." Charles and you sighed in unison.
You released first around Charles's fingers and only a fraction of a second later did Charles cum quickly followed by Max whose cum mixed with Charles on his stomach.
Charles finally allowed himself to see the mess he and Max created on him although the scene didn't last long before he watched you lick his stomach clean swallowing all the contents.
"Fuck that was so hot." Max chuckled.
As usual, Charles grabbed your neck pulling you into him and kissing you deeply tasting now not only himself but also Max in your mouth.
"That was...incredible." Charles sighed after you pulled away, he watched Max climb off him and begin to put his boxers on.
"Call me anytime, and whenever you're ready we can try more." Max winked getting dressed in such a relaxed manner like he hadn't just aided in giving Charles the most incredible orgasm of his life.
"Thank you." You sat up thanking Max, he leaned over pecking your lips quickly before doing the same to Charles and walking out the door.
You looked down at Charles watching the confusion on his face at Max's action before a small smile appeared on his lips.
Maybe next time would come sooner than you thought and you couldn't be more excited.
Part 2
#f1#lestappen#xreader#f1xreader#f1smut#lestappensmut#f1threesome#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#y/n#f1 imagine#smut
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when in france (lh x reader)
summary: you bump into your ex, lewis, at a club in france. what’s the worst that could happen?
notes: nswf, ex-relationship, unprotected sex, oral (m/f receiving), little bit o’ angst, 4.6k words, not edited
+ check out other works here
+ switched the tense halfway thru again. but im too lazy to change it rn!!! sry!
---
“Lewis is here.”
You don’t hear your friend the first time she says it, the club’s music too loud in your ears. But she presses herself up against you the second time, puts her cheek alongside yours and you feel the shape of his name in her mouth as she yells.
Lewis.
You hadn’t expected him here. Sure, it was the night after a big victory -- a Mercedes two-three finish (not that you’d been watching) -- but from what you’d heard he wasn’t partying these days. He keeps to himself, were the words your mutual friend had used. You didn’t ask about him after that, didn’t want to remind yourself that you were no longer familiar with Lewis’ life, with the little things he did.
You pull your head up from the tight-packed dance floor and try to find him -- the tight braids, strong shoulders. And sure enough there is, being led up the wall-mounted staircase to the VIP area. Even from a distance you can see the heavy black cargos, the flimsy white tank top barely covering his shoulders, the dark press of his tattoos underneath.
“He’s so fine,” your friend murmurs. You turn, letting your shoulder shove into hers. Trying to slow your breathing, calm yourself. Lewis is here, in the same club as you. So close, and-
“He’s looking at you.”
“What?”
You whip back to your friend, but she’s suddenly busy dancing with a blue-haired girl, sending you a guilty kiss as the two move away. Some friend.
So it’s just you who has to turn back to where you know Lewis stands, remembering suddenly the time you surprised him by flying in for family Christmas. How his mother had grinned and shushed you at the front door, how he’d started smiling as soon as he’d seen you, how warm his hands had been wrapping under your stupid holiday sweater. You’re here, he’d said. But that had been months ago, before your promotion meant you could no longer spare weekends to watch his races, before he started calling you hammered from parties, other women's voices shrill in the background, before he stopped calling at all.
But when you look Lewis isn’t there. The stairs are empty, the glint of his jewellery nowhere to be found. Probably for the best, you think.
Probably for the best.
-
You manage to work back in with some people you’d met in line, joining them in another round of shots. By now everything is starting to feel a bit hazy, tingly, loose. A tall Frenchman presses at your back, his murmur low in your ear. You can’t hear him, laugh, continue dancing. Lewis is almost passed from your head. One more drink and you’re sure to be clear of him, one more… You part from your companions again, narrowly escaping the hands of your dance partner.
“I’m just gonna get another drink, be right back. Promise.”
Clumsily you make it to the bar, heave yourself onto the counter, admire the sea-glass collection of liquor bottles stacked along the shelves. Your head is slowing down a bit and your feet hurt. You order from the bartender and make to pull out your card when a thick British accent speaks from over your shoulder.
“Make it two. And you can add it to my tab, thanks.”
Lewis.
You let the heavy wood bar press into your back as you turned to face him. The same markings of facial hair at his jaw and above his lip, the same glittering stud in his nose. Same warm brown eyes, even the same chain at his neck -- the chain you’d given him after the horrible season end in Abu Dhabi. Still I Rise carved in small lettering on the private metal beside his neck.
“Hi. I was looking for you,” he says, easy, like the last time you saw each other wasn’t when you packed up your things and moved out of his apartment.
“You found me,” you say, because there’s nothing else to say and the club lighting is throwing soft shadows over his shoulders, his arms. He looks older than you remembered, more mature. You’re not sure how you get the words out -- your throat feels tight, your heart taking up all the room in your body.
Behind you the bartender sets down your drinks and you don’t give yourself time to think before offering one to Lewis, your outstretched arm as much a peace offering as you’re willing to make. Your hands brush as he takes it, nods. His eyes don’t leave yours. He says something to you but you’re too distracted by the shift in his throat as he swallows to hear. Or maybe it’s the music.
“What?”
He grins, flashing the tooth gap you’ve been thinking about for months, leans close enough for you to smell the alcohol on him, the cologne. Your heart is racing.
“Wanna go upstairs?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Another grin and he takes your hand. Laces your fingers together like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He leads you along the edge of the crowd, the dark skin of his shoulders shifting as he navigates alongside the wall. His rings are warm against your knuckles. You trail up the stairs behind him, know he’s going to stop in the dim landing of the alcove before he does.
He keeps both hands over yours, like he’s scared you’re going to try run away. Between the dancefloor and the speakers of the VIP lounge is quieter. You think you can hear Lewis’ heartbeat.
“I just- I wanted to say I’m sorry for how things ended. Between us,” he says, and his eyes are crinkled and you knew he really cares.
“S’okay, Lewis. It’s okay.”
Hope. That’s the little gleam in his eye as he lets his tongue push out into his cheek.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And then his hand is cupping your neck, the tips of his fingers already curling through your hair and you can’t help but smile back, rub your face into the soft skin of his palm.
“Wanna get drunk with me?” he whispers, like you’re teenagers again, like this is your shared secret plan.
Yeah. Yeah, you do.
-
You promised yourself you’d call an Uber home but Lewis doesn’t let you. He pulls your phone away and you’re too inebriated and slow to get it back. Too happy and giggly to care. He dangles it just out of reach and you let yourself play, pressing your body against his, stretching until you feel the hot fan of his breath on your neck. His hands settling on your hips, his lips on your neck. Come home with me, he’s saying, and you’re nodding into the crook of his shoulder, breathing him in.
In the car he slides closed the privacy screen between the driver and the backseat. Doesn’t even let you get all the way in before he’s pulling you onto his lap, hands framing your face, teeth biting at your lower lip. When you pull away his eyes are sleepy and wholly black, his mouth quirked up at one side, red from kissing. You want him in your mouth then, want to see if he tastes the same as you remember.
You’d done this once before on the way to some fancy event. There had been no time in the hotel beforehand, and Lewis’ cropped outfit had been irresistible. Hidden between his legs, careful not to disturb the fine fabric of his pants, you’d let him hit the back of your throat every time the car went over a bump. The way he whimpered as you kitten licked him, ringed thumb feeling his own cock through the skin of your cheek. You’d barely finished swallowing and tucking him back into his pants when you’d arrived. He’d kissed you real hard hidden in the privacy of the car. Kept looking over at you during the event speeches. Smiling, looking down, shaking his head. You’d squeeze his hand or shove him. He returned the favour in one of the bathrooms, slight scuff marks on the knees of his suit the only hint as you two returned for dessert.
But this time is different. Lewis doesn’t pick up on what you’re doing at first, whining when you break away from him. His hands are grasping at your shirt but you push him off, shaking your head, grinning.
“Wanna touch you,” he says, and his voice is rough and low. You almost abandon your plans. Almost. Instead you move your legs from around his hips to between them, dropping to the floor of the car. You pull your hair up too, knowing that Lewis will pull at it anyways.
“Oh.”
You give him one more wicked smile before finding the button of his pants, tugging his zipper down. Already Lewis is impatient, muscled thigh bouncing up and down lightly in your peripheral. You slide your hand along it, soothing turning brazen as you continue your path to trace the hard shape of him through his briefs.
He curses, jerking under your featherlight touch. You can see his clenched fists pressed on either side of the seat in a desperate attempt not to grab for you. Not to upset the odd balance that somehow found you at the same club, on the same night, and now on your knees before him.
“You can touch me, Lewis,” you joke, but it comes out slow, sounds sanded down by your inebriation.
His fingers find your hair, tucking back stray strands so he can see your mouth. Quickly, hands fumbling slightly, you pull him out of his boxers. Quiet, pressing kisses to the head of him, the shaft, the sensitive skin of his pelvis. You let the short hair there scratch at your cheek before you lick an unbroken strip up. Above you, Lewis’ chest heaves, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. He’s always been transfixed by this, by watching you. So you look up at him, at his sleepy hooded eyes, as you take him into the back of your throat. He makes a desperate hurting sound, his hand gripping harder at your hair. You hold him there for a moment, letting water collect at your lash line, letting your gag reflex kick in, before humming once and pulling up, spitting into your fist, stroking him.
Lewis is everywhere — his laboured breathe in your ear, the musky taste of him in your mouth, his smell.
Stupid of you to think your memories could be fonder than reality, that the velvet of his skin couldn’t be as all-consuming as you recollected. He is beautiful before you, his powerful thighs and wide, strong torso. The gentle stroke of his fingers at your scalp. You had missed this, missed him. You swipe at his precum with your tongue, savouring the hot smooth skin there, the way he moans under the small gentle touches of your mouth.
The car comes to a stop before you can take him into your throat again, and Lewis doesn’t even bother fully zipping up his pants as he leads you out of the car. His kisses on your neck, shoulder, cheek, murmuring that he’d missed your mouth, that you looked so pretty on your knees. You blush -- not minutes after sucking him off in the back of a car you’re blushing at his praise.
He takes your hand as you hurry through the hotel lobby and over to the elevators. You shush each other, both frantically pressing at the up button and laughing at the fullness of the moment. You’re drunk off Lewis.
As soon as the elevator doors open he’s on you, pressing you back to the mirrored glass wall, licking into your mouth, your teeth. His hands are all over, hiking up your dress, pushing back your hair, grasping and tilting your face to where he wants it.
“Lew-”
He hums into you, reaching between your legs to cup your core. It’s so brazen, so claiming that your legs feel weak. You let your arms fall around his neck, let yourself take everything he gives you.
The elevator pings, the doors open. Lewis pulls off your mouth, forehead pressed to yours so your breathe mingles. His brow furrows and for a second you’re terrified this has all been some misunderstanding. That the next sentence out of his mouth will be this was a mistake. That this was all some horrible attempt to cushion your feelings or not make you feel stupid.
“It might be a little messy in my room-”
You laugh and blow right by him, ducking under his reaching arms.
“Hey,” he calls, but you’ve already made it to his door and are in the middle of an attempt to take off your heels, catching desperately at the wall for balance.
“Hey what,” you echo back, pulling your head up to find him real close now. Watching you. This is how it felt when we were first falling in love, you think. You want to hide it, keep this precious idea lingering in your subconscious for a little longer but there it is, glaring, almost, in the little smile playing across Lewis’ lips, the crinkle at his eyes.
“Just hey,” and this time he says it onto your mouth as kisses you, spins you around, lets you squeal into his cheek as the carpet and the lights twirl.
Behind you the click of his keycard and then he’s crowding you into the dark hotel suite. You feel up at his face, push your palms flat to his cheeks, stroke first his brow then his full lips with the pad of your thumb. He barely breathes as you move, only watching you from under his long, soft eyelashes.
“So beautiful, Lew.”
You don’t mean to say it, stopping your fingers when you hear your own words. So loud in the new space. But it’s dark too, and Lewis lets his head drop to kiss you again -- slow this time. First your temple, then each closed eyelid, your cheekbones, the tip of your nose. You sigh into him when he slots over your lips, when he traces his tongue over your front teeth.
“Lewis.”
“I know, I know baby,” he practically coos it into your mouth, big hands holding your face.
Then you’re scrambling to find the bed, tripping over suitcases and couches. Lewis wasn’t a messy person -- this weekend must’ve been hectic for him to be leaving his place like this. Or maybe he just doesn’t have anyone to keep it clean for anymore, a voice somewhere in the back of your mind adds. You push the thought away, focus instead on the dim shapes of the wall, the inky black patches that must be doors. You’re stumbling, but Lewis’ hands catch you, forearms banding over your middle. At your back, pressing up against you, kissing into your neck.
“I got you. I got you,” he murmurs, and the husky timbre of his voice has your thighs pressing together.
“Lewis,” you whine again, desperate for his fingers, his tongue, his cock.
Shuffling, hand out, Lewis leads you through the door and to the bed, spinning you round to face him before he’s pushing you back onto the soft sheets. With his help you lift and discard your dress and shoes. Already you’re itching to do the same to him, but Lewis only sinks to his knees and pulls you to the very edge of the bed. Such a familiar strength as he tugs at the back of your knees. Easy. Gentle. You could get used to this.
You prop yourself up on your elbows, trying to keep your head silent from now on. But the thought lingers as Lewis mouths slowly at your calf, kissing to your knee, your thigh, licks into the crease of your hip. You jump, watching him hide his smile against the soft skin of your stomach.
“Shut up.”
You let a hand fall lazily to shove at his cheek. He turns, catches your palm instantly -- fast, sometimes you forget how fast he is -- bites at your fingers. You squeak but let him hold you there, considering the flesh and bone. You catch the dangerous glint in his eye immediately.
“Lewis..”
He shushes you, his predatory focus on your fingers indivertable.
“Trust me sweetheart,” he says, and you know there’s no use fighting it. Slowly, as if still thinking the idea over, Lewis turns your hand over, pressing it towards your own core.
“Lewis, I don’t know-”
But already you can feel your pointer and ring finger pressing where you’re overheating, and Lewis is gazing between your legs like there’s something beautiful there.
“Let me do this,” and his voice is practically begging. Cheeks aflame, you can’t watch as Lewis guide your fingers in, in, in. You moan at the same time he does, squirming at the need for more, at the knowledge that Lewis is practically hypnotized watching you finger fuck yourself for him. He guides your digits out with a full tug at your wrist, and then bares them back again, letting the wet sound you make travel up to you.
“Lewis-”
No longer hesitant now, you’re needy for more, for him. But Lewis doesn’t heed any of your whining, only pushing your fingers back and forth at that same excruciating pace, practically eating you with his hungry eyes. He knows the slight humiliation of getting yourself off in front of him keeps you docile so he pushes it -- pushes you -- until you’re practically writhing beneath him. Until you surrender to him like a fever, until he is the only thing, the only shape your mouth can form. Then he relents, pulls your fingers out fully, lets you flutter in their absence, sucks the digits clean, grunts at the taste of you.
You sob his name again and then he’s locking your thighs open and licking you in one long stripe. You’re frenzied after that, breaking quickly into a white washed orgasm, bucking as he works you into you into an oversensitive mess.
“S’okay, I got you,” he’s whispering, moving up your body to handle your limp figure, letting you curl up boneless in his lap. He kisses out constellations on your shoulders, says: you did so good for me baby, so proud of you.
You don’t move for a while, eventually coming to trace the lines of the tattoos on his collar bones. The hotel heater kicks on, huffing quietly across the room.
“I always loved how you’d do that,” he says. Your orgasm has left you cold and you press further into the steady heat of him, the small patches of skin open to you through his clothes.
“Missed you, Lew. Really missed you.”
It’s all you’ll let yourself admit back to him, but he takes your face between his hands, enveloping you, hiding you from the rest of the world and kisses you so gently you think you’ll break.
“Lewis.”
The moon shines through the window and Lewis’ eyes are bright with it.
“Yeah.”
“Have sex with me.”
He sighs, slow and long because he knows this will change things. Then he’s kissing you again, lips delicate on yours, sliding over your jaw, searching out the sensitive spots on your neck. You’re gasping and Lewis is tugging off his shirt.
He goes for his pants but halts under your tracing hands. First the lion snarling, then you’re thumbing over the compass, the hard press of his solar plexus. You kiss him there once, twice, right at the center of him. Like you’re marking him, saying I was here. He shudders and shifts you off his lap to fully strip out of his cargos and briefs. He’s leaking and red, standing out from his stomach.
“Poor baby’s been so neglected,” you coo and he pushes you back into the mountain of pillows at the headboard. You’re joking, maybe. You can never tell with Lewis. He’s sizing you up too, one knee propped on the bed, hand absentmindedly stroking himself.
“Why don’t you do something about it then?”
He’s so much bigger than you, stronger than you, when he talks like this. Reminds you of him in the car, the crude way he’d sometimes talk to the other men in the garage. Your heart rate kicks up, just a bit.
“C’mere.”
He obliges, covering your body and face in shadow as he holds himself level with you. One hand on his bicep --- so solid, so heavy under your hand -- the other to the hot length of him. His mouth open and brow furrowed as he watches you notch him at your entrance. And then just you and him, watching.
“You’re sure?” he asks.
You look again at the tired warmth of his eyes, the smile lines you’d been lucky enough to frequent for years at a time. Lewis and you played around it, letting yourselves get distracted by the petty everyday stress of relationships, dating, fame, but here you were. Back in his bed, back in his arms, back in the same club. You and Lewis were just that: you and Lewis. You were destined to orbit around each other. Perhaps this time you could get away with colliding.
You kiss him, all the answer he needs to start pushing into you. You keep your lips connected until the stretch of him, the size of him, is too much, has you gasping into his shoulder. You’d forgotten the press of him between your legs, in your head, until he was shoving everything else out, only Lewis. Too tight, too big. Your breathing is ragged, tears finding their way past your clenched eyes.
“You can take it baby,” he says as he keeps baring into you, kissing at your tears. You leave red lines down his back. You feel dumb on his cock, on the way it takes up every space in your head. He kisses your temple when he bottoms out, shaking above you. Maybe you are too, but when you open your eyes Lewis is staring at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time, eyes wide. He leans down to kiss you, keeps his eyes closed as he whispers, “I love you.”
And then he’s pulling out, almost to the tip, not letting you reply before thrusting back in. The power in his hips knocks your breath away, only able to claw at his back as he hikes up one of your legs. The angle has you seeing stars with each new push of him, eyes near rolling back into your head as he pants over you. His chain -- the chain you’d given him -- dangles above you. Funny, you think dimly. Even with everything a part of you was with him always. It hurts your heart a little, but then Lewis is shifting, pining your hips down, forcing you to take even more of him and you think you’re tearing apart.
“Lewis, Lewis,” you’re crying his name, desperate as you cling to him, clench around him.
He’s murmuring something at your ear but you can hardly hear him over the growing crush in your ears, twin to the ever-tightening climax knotting in your core. Then: Lewis’ hand, coaxing at your cheek. He tips your face up ‘till you’re looking at him, eyes wide, vulnerable. For you, only for you. One arm is wrapped over his shoulders, the other coming up to hold him, to push back two braids working themselves loose. He’s mumbling it, I love you, over and over, so you kiss him to make him stop, to try slow down this beautiful spinning wheel you two have found yourselves riding.
You’re too hot below him, the heat of his body covering you, pressing at you. He slips his thumb down to circle your clit and you can’t help but buck into his calloused finger. Everything is too much -- Lewis urging you forward a frenzied peak, the stretch of him between your legs, the quiet way he moans into you.
The warm lick of his tongue through your mouth, the way he licks over your mouth like he owns it has you breaking. Finally you’re crumpling over his cock, crying out as Lewis fucks you through it. Eyes closed, you let yourself burrow into him as your senses mute, vision white. Each raw drag of him has you whimpering, keening into the over-stimulation.
“Can I-” he starts to ask and you nod, lock your legs behind him. Something pained flashes over his expression, something you want to kiss away, but then he’s cumming, so hard he stops breathing. You coax him through it. Kiss at his hairline, brow. He slumps into you, letting his whole weight bore you into the mattress. Pressed to the underside of his arm you just hold him, this beautiful creature you’ve found again. He lies there until his breathing settles and you think he's fallen asleep when he rolls enough to eye you -- one drowsy brown shape watching beneath his messy braids.
“Hi Lewis.”
He whispers back, gentle into the sheets.
“Hi.”
You’re smiling at each other softly, like this could be the start of something, like this might not be the end after all.
Slowly, like it’s the greatest effort of his life, Lewis heaves himself onto his back, rolling you with him. His cock is still inside you, but you know his cum will be leaking out soon, a dirty little reminder of what you let him do.
“Have to get up,” you tell him.
His arm tightens at your side, face suddenly closed off in a way you hadn’t seen all night.
“You gonna come back?” he asks.
You kiss the corner of his mouth, heart hurting at the question, how young he sounds saying it.
“Yeah Lew, I’ll come back.”
-
When you return from the bathroom he’s sleeping, chest rising under the thick hotel sheet.
You pad out to the kitchen, marble tiles cold against your feet. You try your best to find a glass without waking him, shuffling quietly through cupboards until you get the right one. Wincing at how loud the sink sounds in the high-ceilinged room. I love you, he’d said. Pushed the words onto your lips reverently, gifted them to you because he couldn’t keep them to himself. Oh, Lewis.
You watch out the high skyline of the apartment as the sun begins to colour the sky, sipping occasionally at your water, thinking.
Your legs are getting cold when Lewis comes out of the bedroom, eyes dark. He doesn’t notice you at first, only breathing hard in the open space of the hotel. He looks -- devastated.
“Lewis?” He starts at your voice, only staring at you for a moment before releasing a hard sigh, starting towards you and stopping abruptly at the edge of the kitchen.
“I thought-”
His voice catches and you cringe at the question in his speech, how his voice wavers.
“I thought you left.” His eyes, searching, scanning yours as you put down your water, trace around the kitchen counter to him. Stand before him, close, almost touching. You take his hand, look at the easy way your fingers connect.
“No, Lewis, I’m not leaving.”
Hope. It was what you’d seen earlier at the club and you knew if you found Lewis’ eyes you would see it again now. You’d made your decision -- made it when you first took his hand at the bar. You catch his gaze then, smile, just for him.
“Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
He’s smiling too, just the beginnings of it, eyes bright again. Over his shoulder the sun breaks the horizon, golden light washing the hotel.
“Couldn’t because I love you, Lew.”
#bigkeepup#lewishamiltonfic#lewishamiltonxyou#f1xreader#f1smut#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton x reader
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F1 imagines (x y/n) - Personal Advice II Lando & Daniel (RQ) (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1322239908-f1-imagines-x-y-n-personal-advice-ii-lando-daniel?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_originator=RT2EbtvBLfz9ry%2F99NcrtkJTVDG5hIBsAMyyjzVR54j8oIVCrkFnAM6R9CUHyQolWYXRxbitcu630ANfCHGvqgUWmiEpcQuRPXhJvQst35a46zTz%2FPN2vu5KaPrOitNE Just a couple of F1 images of different drivers... There is no specific upload time I upload as I write. If you have any suggestions or ideas do comment and I can write some parts you suggest. Please also Like the parts that are your favorite so I know what kind of storylines you guys like. *I do not own the cover image Highest Rankings #1 mclaren #f1xreader #2 Ricciardo #3 Ferrari #1 leclerc #5 mercedes #1 Charles #3 norris #8 lando #1 formula
#charles#charlesleclerc#danielricciardo#f1#f1xreader#ferrari#formiula#formula#formula1#lando#landonorris#leclerc#mclaren#mercedes#norris#ricciardo#xreader#yourname#fanfiction#books#wattpad#amreading
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max verstappen x reader part5
(incase you missed part4- https://www.tumblr.com/justaninchident-f1xreader/740310543064317952/max-verstappen-x-reader-part4?source=share )
themes-
ferrari female driver
jealousy
enemies to lovers
possible spice (i will put the warning accordingly)
warnings- spicy thoughts? not really tho, so don't worry lovelies
chapter 5 - elevator meetings
The elevator doors closed with a soft ding, trapping Y/N and Max in a steel and glass cage. The post-race buzz still clung to the air, but the carefree laughter had evaporated, replaced by a charged silence thicker than Monaco humidity.
Y/N felt Max's gaze burning into her back, tracing the curve of her dress, lingering on the telltale mark below her ear. She spun around, a defiant fire in her eyes. "Something you need, Verstappen?"
He took a slow step forward, his eyes narrowed. "I'm just curious about that souvenir," he drawled, his voice low and dangerous. "Is it from the 'friendly congratulations' or did tinder dates get too…exhilarating?"
Y/N's jaw clenched. She wasn't about to explain, not to him. "Maybe it's none of your damn business," she spat, but a flicker of doubt betrayed the heat in her voice.
Max smirked, a cruel twist of his lips. "Right, the rookie who wants to play with the big boys. But remember, darling, in this game, secrets have a way of burning you."
He took another step, closing the distance, his shadow swallowing her whole. Y/N's heart hammered against her ribs, a primal fear battling with the intoxicating thrill of his proximity. Her breath hitched as his hand slammed onto the emergency stop button, plunging the elevator into sudden darkness.
Panic rose in Y/N's throat, but before she could react, Max was upon her, pinning her against the cool metal wall. His eyes burned in the dim light, a mixture of possessiveness and fury.
"Play me, Y/N," he growled, his breath hot against her ear. "But choose your games wisely. Because when I win, the prize isn't a trophy. It's you."
His words sent a shiver down her spine, a delicious mix of danger and forbidden temptation. Y/N's anger evaporated, replaced by a burning curiosity. Max Verstappen, the ice prince of the grid, consumed by jealousy? It was intoxicating, a heady cocktail she couldn't seem to resist.
Their faces were inches apart, the tension so thick it crackled. Y/N could feel the heat radiating from his body, his scent of victory and adrenaline washing over her. Her lips parted, a breath escaping in a silent question.
But just as their lips were about to touch, the elevator lurched back to life, the sudden light shattering the intimate darkness. Max, caught off guard, stepped back, the storm in his eyes replaced by a mask of cool indifference.
Y/N straightened, a new fire smoldering in her gaze. "Game on, Verstappen," she whispered, her voice laced with challenge. "See you on the track."
The doors slid open, and Y/N walked out, leaving Max trapped in the elevator, the taste of unspoken desires and unclaimed victory stinging on his tongue. The battle had just begun, and the Monaco night, though silent, echoed with the promise of a much fiercer race than any they'd ever contested on the tarmac. The next lap wouldn't be about pole positions or checkered flags. It would be about claiming the elusive prize - the fiery heart of Y/N L/N. And in this dangerous game of love and rivalry, only one could emerge victorious.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#max verstappen#max vertsappen#formula 1#y/n#red bull racing#ferrari#jealousy
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does anyone have a way to not see self-insert fics in the main f1 tag? Do you just go through and block everyone or is there another tag to go through where they don’t show up?
I believe you can filter the F1xreader tag or whatever variation of it. On mobile it's pretty easy: go to settings
And select "content you see"
You can filter multiple tags, and even usernames as well under "filtered post contents"
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MasterList
Who I Write For
Prompts
MotorSport
Marvel
Star Wars
Other
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Path (Max Verstappen X Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Formula 1
Requested: Day 3 of Writing Inktober prompts instead of drawing!
Warnings: implies that Max can cook
Pronouns: First Person (I/me)
W.C. 367
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
Writing Inktober 2023 Materlist
~~(^Pinterest)
It was a beautiful night in a beautiful city. One that I had always wanted to visit and was now able to since I started traveling with Max. Max thought it would be a great idea to go out and explore the town since it was our last open night before we would hop on the plane, and our schedules were practically booked out for the next week and a half with races and meetings.
We walked hand-in-hand down a path that was lit up with fairy lights toward a covering where a food spread was laid out on a picnic blanket overlooking the horizon. I’d be willing to place a bet that Daniel or GP set it up for us while Max and I were shopping around.
“This is cheezy,” I laughed, leaning into Max’s side as we walked toward the setup. “Who did you pay to set this up? Danny or GP?”
“I’ll have you know they volunteered,” Max quipped back as he leaned his head on top of mine. “I told them I wanted to treat you before we’re on the road nonstop, and they actually helped me plan this and volunteered to set it up.”
“How nice of them…” I trailed off, skeptical at their random generosity. “What did they poison?”
“Nothing, I made the food. They just brought it here and set it up,” He laughed before deciding to change the topic quickly. “Moving on! Look at the view!”
“It’s incredible,” I replied in awe as Max moved to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist as we looked out on the horizon. “How did you find this place?”
“The locals, actually,” Max answered, half in disbelief in himself. “And yes, I did actually talk to the locals.”
“I’m proud of you for getting out of your comfort zone,” I praised, looking back at him and placing a kiss on his jaw before looking back out at the sunset. I unwrapped Max’s arms as I reached into my pocket to grab my phone to take pictures of the sky. I flipped the camera around to capture one of Max and me, but he wasn’t standing behind me.
He was kneeling while holding out a ring box.
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#writing inktober 2023#max x reader#mv1#mv33#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1#f1#f1xreader#bad268#ship268#thing268
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max verstappen x reader part9
(incase you missed part8- https://www.tumblr.com/justaninchident-f1xreader/740597178369802240/max-verstappen-x-reader-part7?source=share)
themes-
ferrari female driver
jealousy
enemies to lovers
possible spice (i will put the warning accordingly)
warnings- mentions of past abusive relationships
chapter 9- i'll be your anchor in the storm
It has been a few days since the saucy and spicy social media exchanges. All the drivers decided to go for a casual night out. The Monaco night thrummed with the usual post-race buzz, a symphony of tinkling glasses and boisterous laughter. Yet, amidst the revelry, Y/N's silence resonated like a discordant note. Her fiery eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were veiled by a layer of worry, her smile strained at the edges. She fidgeted with her phone, her gaze darting around the room like a cornered animal.
Max, ever the observant predator, caught the tension radiating from her. He approached her, a wary concern creasing his brow. "What's with the ghost act, L/N?" he asked, his voice low and gruff, devoid of its usual playful bite.
Y/N flinched, startled, as if his presence had snapped her out of a trance. "Nothing," she mumbled, shoving her phone into her purse, but the tremor in her hands betrayed her words.
Max wasn't convinced. He knew her well enough to recognize the telltale signs – the nervous chewing of her lip, the way her fingers danced anxiously on the clasp of her purse. He pulled out a chair next to her, his gaze unyielding. "Spill it," he commanded, his voice laced with gentle authority.
Y/N hesitated, her silence stretching like a taut chord. Then, with a deep breath, she began to speak, her voice cracking with repressed emotion. "He's back," she whispered, her eyes darting towards the doorway, as if fearing a phantom presence.
Max felt a cold knot tighten in his gut. "Who?" he asked, his voice hardening.
"My ex," Y/N whispered, her gaze finally meeting his. "He…" she choked on a sob, the memory of past trauma raw in her eyes. "He got out."
Max's jaw clenched. The details of Y/N's past were whispers in the paddock, rumors of a violent relationship, scars hidden beneath her fiery spirit. He had never dared to pry, respecting her private battleground. But seeing her fear unfold before him, raw and visceral, ignited a protective fire within him.
He pulled her chair closer, offering a silent sanctuary. Y/N leaned into him, seeking solace in his quiet strength. In a halting voice, she recounted the ordeal – the chilling phone call, the constant dread, the fear that had crawled back into her life like a venomous snake.
"He.. he used to hit me, use me and leave me like i was a worthless doll. He criticized every feature that i had and made me feel bad for existing. When I started to do better in karting and racing, he hated me for it," Y/N took a breath and continued, "One night, when my friend Percy gave me a new book, he got jealous and he tried to...he tried to force himself onto me and I lost it. I smashed his head with the nearby lamp and called 911. He went to jail but he's getting out now. And I know he's out to get me"
Max listened, his usual stoicism cracking as he witnessed her vulnerability. He clenched his fists, a storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. The man who had hurt her, who had dared to dim her fire, would feel the full force of his fury.
When Y/N finished, her voice a trembling thread, she buried her face in her hands, tears soaking through her fingers. Max hesitated, then reached out, his calloused thumb gently wiping away a stray tear. He didn't offer platitudes or false promises. He simply held her gaze, his eyes pools of quiet strength, an unspoken vow etched within them.
"He won't touch you again," Max said, his voice deep and unwavering. "I won't let him."
The words were simple, yet they held the weight of a promise, a declaration of his unexpected but fierce protectiveness. Y/N's tear-filled eyes searched his face, finding validation, comfort, and something more – a spark of something she hadn't dared to acknowledge in the heat of their rivalry.
The night club dimmed around them, the music fading into a distant hum. The other drivers, sensing the charged atmosphere, retreated, leaving them alone in a bubble of shared vulnerability. In that intimate silence, a connection crackled between them, more potent than any post-race adrenaline rush.
Y/N reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and traced the outline of Max's jaw, the callouses beneath her fingertips a tangible proof of his strength. His gaze met hers, unflinching, reflecting the storm brewing within him and the tenderness reserved for her alone.
The lines had blurred. Rival, teammate, protector – Max Verstappen was now something more, a shield against the shadows of her past. And as their eyes locked, the unspoken tension between them, fueled by jealousy, competition, and now, a dawning protectiveness, threatened to ignite into something far more combustible than the champagne bubbling in their abandoned flutes.
-------------------------------------------------------------
The spark crackling between Max and Y/N ignited into a searing flame as their lips drew closer. The tension in the air, thick with unspoken emotions, finally found its release in their shared breath, a promise whispered on the cusp of a kiss.
But just as their lips met, a chilling voice shattered the fragile moment. "Y/N!"
A figure emerged from the shadows, his face contorted with fury. It was Ethan, Y/N's ex, the embodiment of her past trauma, a nightmare made flesh. He held a metal rod in his hand, its glint reflecting the cold anger in his eyes.
Max's hand shot out, clamping onto Y/N's arm, pulling her back like a shield. Her eyes, wide with fear, met his, a silent plea for protection flashing within them. His own gaze, now glacial, locked onto Ethan's, a silent challenge issued across the dimly lit room.
The tension crackled, thicker than the smoke curling from abandoned cigars. Ethan, fueled by a twisted possessiveness, took a menacing step forward, the rod held aloft like a twisted trophy. "You think you can steal her from me, Verstappen?" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom.
Max, ever the strategist, remained calm, his voice a low growl. "She's made her choice, Ethan. And it's not you."
The air crackled with the promise of violence. The other drivers, sensing the imminent storm, edged closer, forming a silent barrier between the two men. Lando placed a hand on Y/N's shoulder, his own anger simmering beneath his calm facade.
Y/N, however, refused to be a damsel in distress. She straightened her spine, her voice ringing with defiance. "I'm not yours to steal, Ethan. I'm my own person, and I choose who I want to be with."
Her words hung in the air, a declaration of independence that pierced through the suffocating atmosphere. Ethan, his facade of control crumbling, lunged forward, the rod aimed at Y/N.
But Max, faster than a lightning strike, reacted with lightning speed. He shoved Y/N behind him, taking the brunt of the blow on his arm. A sharp cry of pain escaped him, but his eyes remained fixed on Ethan, a predator protecting his prey.
The room erupted in chaos. Lando tackled Ethan, wrestling the rod from his grasp. The other drivers, spurred by a shared sense of protectiveness, formed a human wall around Y/N, shielding her from further harm.
Max, his arm throbbing with pain, held his ground, his gaze never leaving Ethan. The storm within him, fueled by jealousy, protectiveness, and now, a surge of adrenaline, threatened to break free.
But before he could unleash his fury, the security guards arrived, alerted by the commotion. They swarmed Ethan, disarming him and dragging him away, his screams of rage echoing through the nightclub.
Y/N, still shaken but unharmed, rushed to Max, her eyes filled with concern. She cradled his injured arm, her touch a balm on his pain. "Max," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
He looked at her, the storm within him subsiding, replaced by a quiet tenderness. "It's okay," he rasped, his voice strained but reassuring. "He's gone. You're safe."
In that moment, amidst the chaos and the aftermath, a new understanding bloomed between them. It wasn't just about rivalry or competition anymore. It was about a bond forged in the crucible of fear, a silent promise of protection, and a connection that went beyond the surface.
The Monaco night, once a celebration of victory, had become a battleground for a different kind of victory. The race for Y/N's heart had taken a dangerous turn, and Max Verstappen, the unexpected hero, had stepped into the ring, claiming his place as her protector. But the battle was far from over. The shadows of Ethan's threat still loomed, and the race for Y/N's heart had just become a race against time, a gamble fueled by fire and the promise of a love forged in the face of danger.
writer's note- guys this was a bit different, i did want to add more emotional aspects to the story and i really worked hard writing this one. tell me what you think. WE LOVE LANDO IN THIS ONE.
#formula 1#max verstappen imagine#red bull racing#charles leclerc#ferrari#max verstappen x reader#carlos sainz#f1#lando norris#max verstappen#mv1 fic#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 smut#redbull racing
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max verstappen x reader part8
(incase you missed part7- https://www.tumblr.com/justaninchident-f1xreader/740576279467868160/max-verstappen-x-reader-part7?source=share)
themes-
ferrari female driver
jealousy
enemies to lovers
possible spice (i will put the warning accordingly)
warnings- none enjoy lovelies
chapter 8 - did somebody say, slay?
( enews reporting )
#VerstappenWatch just exploded! Buckle up, F1 fam, because the Ice Prince has officially gone shirtless on Instagram.
Max just dropped a carousel of gym pics, every one a sculpted masterpiece of muscle and sweat. Biceps bulging, abs like washboards, and a smirk that could melt glaciers – the man is literally radiating heat.
(imagine it something like this)
@MaxVerstappen: playing fire with fire
comments (10.9K)-
@LandoNorris: brother, save some gains for the rest of us!
@CharlesLeclerc: sharing is caring, Maxie boy.
@HamiltonLewis: looking good, champ.
@YNLN: ... speechless.
@lestappenismyworld: clean up on aisle six pls.
@redbullracing: golden boy
Wait, what?! Y/N's speechless? Is that…a blush creeping up her cheeks? The internet is going haywire! Did Max's gym bod leave our fiery rookie tongue-tied?
But Y/N's silence doesn't last for long. Our girl just dropped her own Instagram story, and it's hotter than a July tarmac.
Stunning silky hair cascading loose, a short silk dress clinging to curves sharper than a championship corner, and a smoldering gaze that could set the screen on fire. Y/N is playing with fire, and we're living for it!
@YNLN: won this round baby
comments (12.9K)-
@CharlesLeclerc: now that's how you fight fire with fire, Y/N!
@LandoNorris: ok mother is mothering
@CarlosSainz: @CharlesLeclerc our little sister is growing up
@HamiltonLewis: okay, rookie, you win this round. just don't break the internet.
@MaxVerstappen: finally found your voice, L/N?
Wait, WHAT?! Max commented?! And with a wink emoji? Did we just witness the first public acknowledgement of their "Monaco moment"? The F1 fandom is collectively losing its mind!
This spicy social media war is just getting started, folks. Max and Y/N are throwing shade like confetti, and we're catching every sparkling shard. Who will win this battle of the #InstaBangers? Who will crack first? Only time (and maybe some strategically timed shirtless selfies) will tell.
One thing's for sure: the F1 season is about to get hotter than a Brazilian Grand Prix, and the real drama isn't just on the track. It's playing out in likes, comments, and smoldering emojis, right before our very eyes. Stay tuned, F1 fam, because this is just the beginning. The battle for the championship trophy just got a whole lot more interesting.
#formula 1#max verstappen imagine#charles leclerc#red bull racing#ferrari#max verstappen x reader#carlos sainz#f1#lando norris#max verstappen#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic#mv1 smut#redbull racing#red bull f1#social media
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max verstappen x reader part7
(incase you missed part6-https://www.tumblr.com/justaninchident-f1xreader/740506087536656384/max-verstappen-x-reader-part6?source=share)
themes-
ferrari female driver
jealousy
enemies to lovers
possible spice (i will put the warning accordingly)
warnings- mildly spicy, a little suggestive, no straight smut
chapter 7 - did we just..?
Y/N wove through the glittering swarm of the sponsor event, a lone ember amongst the polished pearls and diamonds. Her ire, stoked by Max's nonchalant performance with the platinum blonde, burned hotter than the champagne she refused to touch. She rounded a corner, her fiery rant rehearsing itself on her tongue, just waiting for an unsuspecting ear.
And there he was, Max Verstappen, leaning against a pillar, a picture of aloof disdain. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Y/N veered towards him, ready to unleash the verbal inferno within.
"Oh, there you are, Ice Prince," she spat, her voice laced with ice. "Thought you'd disappeared into some blonde Barbie's handbag."
Max raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Jealous, L/N? Didn't think a rookie had the capacity for such complex emotions."
His casual barb stung, igniting the tinderbox of her suppressed feelings. "Rookie? I eat rookies for breakfast," she growled, her voice rising. "Lando's just a friend, something you wouldn't know anything about, wrapped up in your own self-important world."
Max's playful smirk morphed into something darker, a flicker of possessiveness igniting in his eyes. "And you," he leaned in, his voice a soft growl, "are you playing the rookie, or just pretending not to notice the sparks flying every time we're within ten feet of each other?"
Y/N scoffed, but the heat in his gaze sent a tremor through her. "Sparks? Don't flatter yourself, Verstappen. You're as exciting as a deflated tire."
"Really?" Max chuckled, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Then why does the mere mention of a blonde model turn you into a fire-breathing dragon?"
Her retort caught in her throat, his words hitting their mark with unsettling accuracy. Her carefully constructed mask of indifference started to crack, revealing the burning fire beneath.
"It doesn't," she hissed, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
Max took a step closer, his hand reaching out to cup her chin, tilting her face up to his. He held her gaze, the storm in his eyes mirroring the turmoil in her own.
"Seems like you care, love," he murmured, his voice so soft it sent shivers down her spine.
Then, without warning, he closed the distance between them. His lips crashed onto hers, a fierce symphony of heat and aggression. It was a kiss fueled by unspoken desires, a clash of fire and ice. Y/N, initially stunned, melted into his embrace, her anger dissolving into a torrent of need.
They devoured each other, hands fumbling beneath layers of silk and linen, desperate for more. Max, the storm, claimed her like a hurricane, his kisses leaving bruising marks on her skin. Y/N, the firecracker, met his aggression with equal fervor, her fingers digging into his back, drawing him closer.
The world around them faded away, the opulent room and its glittering inhabitants reduced to a blurry backdrop. This was all that mattered – the heat of his body against hers, the taste of his lips, the way they fit together like puzzle pieces meant to be.
Y/N let out a sweet and sinful moan which sounded like the sound from heaven to Max's ears. His hand grabbed her hair, tilting her head up for a better angle. Just as their hands were about to explore further, the clatter of dropped champagne flutes shattered the spell. Guests stopped to gawk, whispers rippling through the crowd. Max pulled away, his eyes stormy, a mixture of satisfaction and regret swirling within them.
Y/N stumbled back, her cheeks flushed, her heart hammering against her ribs. The fire still burned, but it was laced with a new sense of vulnerability, a flicker of fear she couldn't quite decipher.
Max held her gaze for a beat, then gave a curt nod, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "See you on the track, rookie," he said, before turning and disappearing into the crowd.
Y/N was left standing alone, the taste of Max still clinging to her lips, the echoes of their collision resonating in her soul. The game had changed, the lines blurred. They were no longer just rivals, no longer just fire and ice. They were something more, something dangerous and intoxicating, and the next race wouldn't just be about crossing the finish line first. It would be about claiming victory in a game of hearts, on a track both exhilarating and terrifying. The Monaco night had ignited a spark, but the real inferno was yet to begin.
Max and Y/N didn't speak for the next two weeks. With tense looks and molten eyes, the two tiptoed around their emotions. Breakfasts were filled with awkward silences, leaving all the drivers confused. Lando and Daniel made a bet on whether Max and Y/N had fucked yet.
( ENEWES REPORTS )
#YNLN stans, brace yourselves! Our girl dropped a beach bomb on Insta this morning, and it's hotter than the asphalt after a Grand Prix!
The pic shows Y/N sprinting down a sun-drenched beach, a mischievous grin plastered on her face as Lando Norris, abs rippling in sunshine, playfully chases after her. Caption? "4lifer."
Cue the meltdown! Twitter and Insta are exploding with theories. Did YNLN just confirm what we've suspected all along? Is Lando her "4lifer" boo?
@CharlesLeclerc: don't sweat it, Y/N. we're team dutch all the way!
@LandoNorris: catch me if you can bitchy-boo <3
@HamiltonLewis: living your best life, I see. enjoy the break, rookie. ;)
But amidst the celebratory comments, one name is noticeably absent: Max Verstappen. The Ice Prince himself has been radio silent since their "Monaco moment," not even liking Y/N's post (gasp!). Is he stewing in his own jealousy?
@MaxVerstappenFan37: where's our boy Max in all this? does Lando's little chase scene sting a bit, champ?
@YNLNandVerstappen: can they just admit they're a thing already? The tension is thicker than champagne bubbles!
@F1DramaQueen: don't tell me Max is lurking in the comments with a fake account, leaving passive-aggressive emojis.
The rumor mill is churning faster than an F1 engine, and F1 Twitter is living for every second of it. Will Y/N break the silence? Will Max throw shade in a cryptic Insta story? Stay tuned, folks, because this drama is just getting started! #F1 #YNLN #LandoNorris #MaxVerstappen #4lifer
--- end of enews report ----
Meanwhile, in his Monaco penthouse, Max stares at the photo on his phone, a storm brewing behind his steely eyes. His fingers hover over the keyboard, crafting a witty retort, then deleting it. The jealousy that had simmered for weeks threatens to boil over, but a voice in his head tells him to play it cool.
"Game on, Y/N," he mutters, a steel glint entering his eyes. "4lifer? We'll see about that."
#f1 imagine#max verstappen imagine#formula 1#formula one#red bull racing#y/n#ferrari#max verstappen x reader#f1#max verstappen#lando norris#mv1 smut#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic
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max verstappen x reader part6
(incase you missed part5- https://www.tumblr.com/justaninchident-f1xreader/740324463671902208/max-verstappen-x-reader-part5?source=share )
themes-
ferrari female driver
jealousy
enemies to lovers
possible spice (i will put the warning accordingly)
warnings- spicy thoughts? not really tho, so don't worry lovelies
chapter 6 - well shit, i want him.
The week after Monaco was a masterclass in unspoken tension. Y/N and Max existed in separate orbits, their usual bantering replaced by a glacial silence. Lunch at the paddock was as cold as the champagne in their unused flutes. Practice sessions held an undercurrent of suppressed energy, each maneuver seeming a veiled challenge.
Lando, oblivious to the storm brewing around his friends, uploaded a picture from his wild post-race celebration. Y/N, perched piggyback on his shoulders, grinned into the camera, her fiery hair cascading down his back. The caption, "ride or die" was innocent enough, yet to Max, it felt like a public declaration of ownership.
(post below- purely playful, purely platonic)
He stared at his phone, the screen burning his fingertips. Jealousy, a venomous serpent, coiled in his gut, but he pushed it down, refusing to acknowledge its existence. Yet, his scowl deepened as the day wore on, the image of Y/N perched on Lando's back like a forbidden trophy etching itself into his mind.
Later that evening, at a swanky sponsor event, Max found himself surrounded by a gaggle of glamorous models. One, a statuesque blonde with eyes the color of polished sapphires, draped herself across him, her hand slithering onto his bicep. Max barely registered her touch, his gaze still haunted by the ghost of Y/N's laughter.
But across the room, Y/N saw. The spark in her eyes ignited, green flames licking at the edges. Her smile, once playful, twisted into a sardonic smirk. For the first time that week, Max saw a crack in her facade, a glimpse of the fiery spirit burning beneath her carefully constructed composure.
And suddenly, his own suppressed jealousy roared to life. He couldn't stand the thought of another man laying claim to her, even in the most superficial way. His gaze met hers, a silent challenge across the crowded room. This wasn't about Lando or the blonde model; it was about control, about the unspoken possession that simmered beneath the surface of their rivalry.
The game had shifted. No longer content with playing it cool, Max felt the need to make his stake, to ignite the fire in Y/N's eyes, even if it meant burning himself in the process. The air crackled with their unspoken emotions, a prelude to a battle far more explosive than any they'd fought on the track.
author's note - omg lovelies they are both jealous now yipee, and now things get spicy and good so stay tuned <3
#formula 1#max verstappen imagine#red bull racing#charles leclerc#ferrari#max verstappen x reader#carlos sainz#f1#lando norris#max verstappen#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic#mv1 smut#red bull f1
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max verstappen x reader part3
(incase you missed part2 - https://www.tumblr.com/justaninchident-f1xreader/740209865436364800/max-verstappen-x-reader-part2?source=share)
themes-
ferrari female driver
jealousy
enemies to lovers
possible spice (i will put the warning accordingly)
warnings- none in this chapter, so don't worry lovelies
chapter 3: dance of fire and ice
The Monaco qualifiers crackled with the electric anticipation of a thousand thunderstorms. Y/N and Max, two forces of nature, wrestled for pole position, their Ferraris scarlet and orange blurs against the azure backdrop. Lap after lap, they dueled, pushing the limits of speed and sanity. Y/N, fueled by the roar of the crowd, snatched pole by a hair's breadth, leaving Max fuming but strangely, not entirely dissatisfied.
As the champagne sprayed, Y/N whooped with glee, high-fiving Charles and Carlos, their triumphant laughter echoing through the pit lane. Max, mask firmly in place, passed by, casting her a sharp nod, a flicker of grudging respect hidden in the depths of his steely stare. But their unspoken rivalry still hummed in the air, a low-frequency current waiting to spark.
Later, after the celebratory cheers had faded and the garages emptied, Y/N found herself alone. The silence echoed around her, punctuated only by the whirring of a projector and the soft scratch of her pen on paper. On the screen, replays of her qualifying lap danced like ghosts, her own movements dissected, analyzed.
Lost in calculations and strategy notes, she barely registered the soft thud of a pizza box next to her. A can of energy drink followed, placed with a quiet clink. Startled, she looked up to meet Max's stormy gaze.
"Figured you might need the fuel," he mumbled, avoiding her eyes.
Surprise, then amusement, softened Y/N's features. "You think I run on pizza and Red Bull?" she teased, taking a playful jab at his sponsor.
Max cracked a faint smile, a rare sight that sent a jolt through her. "Don't underestimate the power of junk food," he quipped, taking a seat across from her, his movements stiff but his eyes softening.
The silence settled again, comfortable this time. Y/N, emboldened by his unexpected gesture, gestured to the screen. "Want to dissect my mistakes with me?" she challenged, a mischievous glint in her hazel eyes.
Max snorted, a genuine laugh escaping him. "I wouldn't dare miss the masterclass," he retorted, leaning in to study thereplay with her.
And so, their rivalry took an unexpected turn. Over greasy pizza and fizzy drinks, they dissected corners, debated tire strategies, and shared racing anecdotes. Y/N discovered a sardonic wit beneath Max's gruff exterior, a deep well of passion for the sport that mirrored her own. Max, in turn, found himself grudgingly impressed by her meticulous planning and ruthless instinct on track.
Hours melted away, measured only in the changing light filtering through the garage windows. They argued, they joked, they pushed each other to be better, forging a connection forged in the crucible of competition. Finally, as exhaustion started to set in, Y/N stretched, her joints popping protestingly.
"Think I'll call it a night," she yawned. "Tomorrow's the real battle."
Max nodded, a flicker of something akin to warmth in his eyes. "See you on the track, rookie."
"Don't get cocky, champ," she retorted with a wink, grabbing her helmet and heading out.
As she walked away, Y/N couldn't help but smile. The rivalry was still there, the fire still burned, but beneath the ashes, a grudging respect, a flicker of friendship had taken root. And perhaps, just perhaps, in the heart of the Monaco night, the dance of fire and ice had taken an unexpected turn, a waltz towards something… more.
The sun would rise on race day, casting long shadows across the track. But in the quiet stillness of the garage, a different kind of light had flickered, a fragile ember of understanding between two souls as different as fire and ice, yet bound by the same burning passion for the dance of the racetrack. The real battle was coming, but tonight, under the watchful gaze of the Mediterranean stars, a different kind of victory had been won.
-------------------------the next day---------------------------------------
(COMMENTATORS)
Croft: Welcome back to the Formula One Heineken Silver Las Vegas Grand Prix! The air is thick with anticipation, the neon lights pulsating like nervous energy. This one's all to play for, folks!
Brundle: Absolutely! Max Verstappen on pole, the Ferrari duo of Leclerc and Sainz breathing down his neck, and the surprise package, Y/N L/N in P4, hungry for her first win! And there they go! The lights are out, and away we go!
Croft: A clean start! Verstappen leads, Leclerc takes second, Sainz P3, and Y/N L/N makes a stunning move on the outside, passing Hamilton for P4! The crowd roars, the Ferrari faithful delirious!
Brundle: Oh, but Hamilton isn't giving up! He's right on Y/N's tail, these two are wheel-to-wheel through Turn 1! Sparks fly, this is pure magic!
Croft: They're pushing each other to the limit, Hamilton diving inside, Y/N holds the line! Incredible defensive driving from the rookie! Hamilton backs off, regrouping for another attack.
Brundle: Meanwhile, Max Verstappen has built a small lead, but Leclerc and Sainz are working together, trying to undercut him in the pit lane. This is a tactical chess game as much as a physical one!
Croft: Hamilton goes for it again! This corner could be the turning point! They touch! Y/N loses a bit of ground, but she holds onto P4! Wow, this race is a heart-stopper!
Brundle: Verstappen pits! Leclerc goes in too, Sainz stays out, a gamble from Ferrari! Can it pay off?
Croft: Y/N pits, quick turnaround! She rejoins in P5 behind Hamilton, but they're both miles behind Verstappen, who's flying on fresh tires!
Brundle: Wait, what's this? Sainz pits late, rejoining just ahead of Verstappen! The undercut gamble works! Max is furious, he's on the radio, questioning the strategy!
Croft: The order shakes out: Sainz leads, Verstappen P2, Leclerc P3, Y/N L/N P4, and Hamilton closing in like a predator! The final 10 laps, folks, this is pure Vegas-style drama!
Brundle: Y/N makes a move on Leclerc! They battle through the neon canyons, sparks flying once again! Leclerc holds him off, but she's right there, waiting for her chance!
Croft: Hamilton dives past Y/N for P4! The Brit smells blood, can he catch Sainz for the podium? The crowd is on its feet, the noise deafening!
Brundle: Verstappen is on fire! He's eating into Sainz's lead, lap after lap! This is unbelievable! He catches him with two laps to go! They're going wheel-to-wheel towards Turn 1!
Croft: Contact! Sainz spins out! Verstappen takes the lead! Hamilton takes P2 from the chaos! Y/N crosses the finish line in P3, her first podium in Vegas!
Brundle: What a race! Max Verstappen, the ultimate storm, snatches victory from the jaws of defeat! Hamilton recovers for P2, and Y/N L/N, the Vegas firecracker, secures her first podium finish! What a spectacle, folks!
Croft: As the champagne showers and congratulations flow, it's clear one thing: this season of Formula One is gonna be a wild ride! Buckle up, folks, because the best is yet to come!
The Las Vegas Grand Prix had lived up to its electrifying reputation. The neon lights had witnessed a dance of daring overtakes, strategic gambles, and sheer grit. Max Verstappen, the reigning champion, had emerged victorious, proving his mastery of the unpredictable. Lewis Hamilton, ever the opportunist, had salvaged a podium after a heart-stopping battle with Y/N L/N, the Ferrari firecracker who had announced her arrival on the world stage with a fearless performance.
#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen#mv33#red bull racing#formula 1#f1#charles leclerc#max verstappen x reader#yn
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max verstappen x reader part2
(incase you missed part one https://www.tumblr.com/justaninchident-f1xreader/740195080454930432/max-verstappen-x-readeer?source=share )
themes-
ferrari female driver
jealousy
enemies to lovers
possible spice (i will put the warning accordingly)
warnings- none in this chapter, so don't worry lovelies
chapter 2 - his steely gaze
max's pov-
Monaco's hangover clung to me like cheap champagne, sour and acidic. The sting wasn't just from the defeat, snatched away by a rookie in a crimson devil of a car. It was the fire in her eyes, the mocking tilt of her head when she passed me in the pit lane, the audacity of that damn grin stretching across her face. Y/N L/N, the first woman on the grid, the Ferrari flamethrower who'd dared to make me, Max Verstappen, the reigning lion, sweat.
The paddock buzzed with her laughter, a melody weaving through the drone of mechanics and engineers. I saw her across the way, surrounded by the usual gaggle – Lando, Norris, the McLaren goofball, Charles Leclerc, the Ferrari prince, and Carlos Sainz, ever the grinning peacemaker. She fit in effortlessly, her fiery hair catching the morning sun, a halo crowning her mischievous hazel eyes. I could almost taste the salt of the sea, the tang of adrenaline that clung to her like perfume.
But admit that? Hell would freeze over before I let anyone, least of all her, see even a flicker of appreciation in my steely gaze. So I schooled my face into a sneer, the weapon I wielded better than any titanium gearbox. Her laugh, bright and unafraid, pierced through the armor I'd built around myself.
"Still crying over lost glory, Max?" Lando's voice, as irritating as a tire screech, broke the spell. I grunted, a retort already forming on my lips, but Y/N cut me off.
"Just admiring the scenery, Lando," she said, her eyes flicking to me momentarily, the spark catching fire in their depths. "Never seen an orange storm cloud before."
The jab landed clean, a pit lane undercut straight to my ego. I forced a laugh, harsh and metallic. "Careful, rookie, the scenery might bite back."
The game was on, a constant push and pull, a verbal fencing match on every grid, every press conference. On track, we were predators circling each other, waiting for the right moment to strike. She was fearless, her overtaking moves audacious, calculated risks that somehow always seemed to pay off.
But every night, under the Monaco moon, replaying the race in my head, I'd see flashes of her in the cockpit, the fierce concentration in her eyes, the way her lips moved around the radio commands. Every victory felt hollow, tinged with the ghost of that 0.09 seconds, a constant reminder of her fire.
I hated it. Hated the way she made me think, made me push harder, made me see the cracks in my own ironclad confidence. But beneath the surface, a grudging respect began to simmer, a flicker of admiration hidden in the ashes of defeat.
Y/N L/N, the Ferrari firecracker, was more than just a rookie. She was a force of nature, a hurricane in a scarlet dress, and she'd turned my world upside down. And I, Max Verstappen, the Dutch lion, wouldn't have it any other way.
We were destined to clash, to burn like meteorites across the Formula One sky. And somewhere, deep down, in the pit lane of my pride, a part of me couldn't wait for the next race, for the next duel, for the next chance to be consumed by the inferno she called her passion.
The game had begun, and the heat was rising.
#max verstappen imagine#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#charles leclerc#lando norris#red bull racing#ferrari
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max verstappen x reader part4
(incase you missed part3- https://www.tumblr.com/justaninchident-f1xreader/740278819966042112/max-verstappen-x-reader-part3?source=share)
themes-
ferrari female driver
jealousy
enemies to lovers
possible spice (i will put the warning accordingly)
warnings- spicy thoughts? not really tho, so don't worry lovelies
chapter 4 - fiery eyes and tracksuits
The cooldown room hummed with a tense silence. Max, Lewis, and Y/N sat perched on their podium chairs, the champagne clinging to their hair and suits like glittering tears. Lewis, ever the gentleman, excused himself for a quick phone call, leaving Max and Y/N alone in the charged atmosphere.
Max stared at the wall, his jaw clenched, his gaze avoiding the fiery spark in Y/N's hazel eyes. The memory of their clash on track, the touch of her car against his, still thrummed in his veins. Then, a brush of warmth against his thigh, a feather-light touch that sent a jolt through him.
Y/N, seemingly oblivious, had shifted in her chair, her racing suit stretching taut across her curves. The accidental contact was fleeting, but it hung in the air like a charged wire. Max's breath hitched, his gaze darting to the spot where their skin had met, a flicker of heat igniting in his eyes.
"Tough race," Y/N said, her voice a breathy whisper, her eyes locked on his. "You were a storm out there."
Max swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "You weren't exactly a picnic yourself," he countered, trying for his usual gruffness, but the words came out strained.
Y/N smiled, a slow, knowing curve of her lips. Her fingers began to dance over the zipper of her racing suit, a silent invitation that sent a shiver down Max's spine. "Just a rookie trying to learn the ropes," she purred, her gaze dropping to the exposed expanse of her Ferrari under-suit, a scarlet flame against her tanned skin.
Max's heart hammered against his ribs. The tension in the room crackled, thick and electric. He wanted to reach out, to trace the line of her neck, to mark her neck with a mark to how that she was his. to explore the heat that simmered beneath the surface. But the fear of rejection, of breaking the fragile truce they'd forged on track, held him back.
Just then, the door swung open, and Lewis walked in, his smile bright and oblivious. The spell shattered, the tension dissipating like smoke in the wind. Max's gaze snapped away from Y/N, his face a mask of cool indifference.
"Back to the rat race, then," Y/N sighed, zipping up her suit with a practiced ease that sent a pang of disappointment through Max.
The rest of the post-race interviews passed in a blur. Max answered questions on autopilot, his mind still replaying the touch of Y/N's skin, the fire in her eyes. As they parted ways, Y/N leaned in, her lips brushing his ear.
----------------time jump to the night of the same day-----------------
The Monaco night thrummed with an energy fueled by champagne and victory laps. The drivers had traded helmets for sleek suits and Ferraris for fancy cocktails, the post-race party a kaleidoscope of laughter and gossip. Y/N, the star of the show, glided through the crowd in a black bodycon dress that clung to her like a second skin. Her fiery hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing a face adorned with a mischievous grin. All while sporting a hickey on her neck
"That hickey, darling," Carlos purred, his eyes twinkling as they landed on the crimson mark peeking from beneath her necklace, "is quite the souvenir."
Y/N's cheeks flushed a becoming shade of scarlet. "Just a friendly exchange of congratulations," she said, batting her lashes innocently. "Some guys know how to celebrate." Y/N was purely bluffing, she had burnt her neck while curling her hair, but hey, playing into hilarious rumors was her specialty.
Max, simmering across the room, scoffed. "More like celebrating something else," he muttered under his breath, his usual gruffness laced with a sharp edge of jealousy. Every laugh Y/N shared, every lingering glance exchanged with another driver, felt like a blow to his chest.
Meanwhile, Y/N had found herself captivated by Charles' girlfriend, Alexandra Saint Mleux. ( WE LOVE ALEXANDRA SM ) "So, tell me all about the Italian stallion," Y/N teased, her smile playful.
Alexandra giggled, leaning in conspiratorially. "Oh, Charles! He's…passionate. Like a Ferrari engine on full throttle."
Alexandra winked. "Don't tell him I said that, but trust me, the real victory was after the lights went out."
Their conversation, laced with teasing and veiled innuendo, flowed like vintage champagne. Max, unable to tear his gaze away, felt a familiar heat crawl up his neck. The image of Y/N and some random guy, tangled in a post-race celebration, ignited a flame of possessiveness in his gut.
He tried to dismiss it. They were colleagues, rivals, nothing more. But the thought of Y/N's fiery laughter echoing in someone else's embrace, the whisper of her kiss lingering on someone else's lips, was almost unbearable.
The night wore on, the air thick with unspoken desires and veiled intentions. Y/N, the captivating enigma, danced her way through the party, leaving a trail of smoldering glances and whispered rumors in her wake. Max, a storm brewing beneath the surface, watched her every move, the green monster gnawing at his insides.
#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen smut#max verstappen x reader#formula 1#red bull racing#ferrari#yn#carlos sainz#chapter 4 - fiery eyes and tracksuits
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Who I Write For
Marvel
Bucky Barnes
Carol Danvers
Joaquin Torres
Peter Parker
Pietro Maximoff
Sam Wilson
Loki Laufeyson
Natasha Romanoff
Wanda Maximoff
Yelena Belova
Star Wars
Anakin Skywalker
Din Djarin
Finn
Han Solo
Hunter
Luke Skywlaker
Obi-Wan Kenobi
Poe Dameron
Rey Skywalker
Motorsport
Alex Albon
Arthur Leclerc
Callum Ilott
Charles Leclerc
Daniel Ricciardo
Dennis Hauger
George Russell
Jüri Vips
Lando Norris
Liam Lawson
Marcus Armstrong
Max Verstappen
Mick Schumacher
Nyck De Vries
Oscar Piastri
Paul Aron
Pierre Gasly
Robert Shwartzman
Other
Alex Turner
James Conrad
Javier Peña
Caspian X
Tom Holland
(Any other requests asks and if I know who they are I will probably write for them)
#f1xreader#f2xreader#onehsots#imagines#forulaone#formulathree#formulatwo#starwars#marvel#avengers#prequels#sequel#originals
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