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adventuringblind · 9 months

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Baby Daddy

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Smut

Request: Yes and I did this happily because it came from the best (Would have been happy either way but that just makes it better)

summary: Charles and Max decided to see who can get reader knocked up first.

Warnings: Breeding kink, PinV, vomiting, double penetration, teasing, praising+degrading

Notes: The author liked this one. The author will now be jumping in holy water.

masterlist

The following media is not intended for minors. Please don't interact if you're under the age of 18.

She wasn’t sure how the conversation started. She knew both boys wanted to start a family, and she was in the height of a baby fever that she can’t escape from. So, asking about it made sense.

Not that they were mad. Of course not. They just couldn’t decided who would be the one to be the biological father.

“I think we should make it a competition.” Max’s smug face makes her pale. It’s never a good sign when he brings up that word.

“Winner gets to choose the order of out last names.” Charles demands. Another argument they’d been having recently.

“What about me?! I’m the one who’s carrying the baby!”

“You can choose where yours goes no matter who wins.”

“Sounds fair to me.” She smiles with satisfaction. At least she knows there is an ungodly amount of good sex coming her way.

Three months of trying. She was sore after every race. not for the reasons of her lovers. But because of what they to do her. their competitive spits had yet to falter. Much to her benefit and pleasure.

Six months of trying and she was starting to lose confidence in herself. Her doctor said she’s fine, but it doesn’t stop the stupid thoughts because all three of them want this entirely to much.

A year and she’s given up on thinking about it. They are obviously still trying, but it’s not something that she talks about much anymore. She knows that it takes longer for some and she’s okay with that. She just avoids the subject as much as possible.

The night Max wins his second championship title is about how’d you expect it to be. Except for the part where him and Charles are in the corner with the tiniest bit of alcohol in their drinks.

They eye her in that stupid dress she knows they love, dancing rather suggestively with Kika and Lily. She’d been staying away from alcohol as of late so they know she’s not even close to tipsy. Yet the look on her face as she dances could make anyone think she was.

‘I think we should get out of here before we do something stupid.” Suggests Charles without breaking his gaze.

“Like what?”

“Take here right here and now.”

The boys startle her as they drag her away from her friends. She hardly even registers they are in the car going to the hotel. “Did I do something wrong?” The sincerity in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed.

Max leans down to whisper in her ear. “Just thinking about getting this dress off of you."

Charles runs his fingers along her thighs, causing her to shiver. His mouth finds the crook of her neck and lays gentle kisses down to her collar bone.

She feels for the taxi driver. The poor man is subjected to whatever is happening in his back seat.

"Gonna take you home and put a baby in you." The Monegasque moans into her skin. It was making her feel in a way that had her squeezing her legs together.

They continued riling her up the entire way back to their hotel room. Even getting hands in the elevator and in the hall, which was thankfully empty.

Max gets the door to the room open. Then, the two males waste no time litterally ripping the dress off of her. Her clothes are gone in seconds.

Their hands are everywhere she doesn't want them. She's left squirming beneath their hold. Pinned to the bed in a way that leaves her more vulnerable. Every peice of herself exposed to them.

And they know exactly what they're doing.

Max runs a single finger over her slit. "Look, Charlie, I think she wanted this."

"Already so wet for us chéri." Charles moves from where he was attacking her neck down to her tits and attacks them instead. His tongue doing a number on the sensitive area.

Max slips a finger inside of her. To slow for her liking. She tries to buck her hips to get more friction only for Max's unoccupied hand to put more wait on her hips. "This is what you get for teasing us in that dress."

"Mm Maxy, think about how she'd look in the dress all swollen with our child." Charles hands barey touch her stomach, and yet it still has her back arching.

Max jumps off of her and is immediately pulling Charles up with him. He gives her a pointed look and tells her to stay.

And then their hands explore each other. Peeling each piece of clothing off the other in record time.

"If you're trying to get me to cum now to you have an advantage, it's nit going to work." Charles says as Max rolls his eyes and stops any movement he was making.

"I have an idea." Max mumbles.

"That's never a good sign."

"Well fine! I guess you don't want to hear how we could make this even."

The female looks between the two bickering and is interested in what he has to say. But also scared. Scared the she won't be able to walk for a week.

And she's right because soon enough, she is lying back against Charles with his cock inside of her. She can't stop moaning as Max leans over the top of them.

Even. She officially hates that word. And yet here she is being turned on by the fact that both boys will be inside her at the same time. Fingers crossed, they don't rip her open in the process.

"You sure you wanna try this?" Max looks at her for approval, and even with her initial fear, she knows they would never hurt her.

"Just go slow, please."

Max starts slow. Charles bites into her shoulder at the friction of her and Max. She can feel all of his muscles tensing underneath her as Max takes his sweet time pushing into her.

It hurts. She knows it won't in a couple of minutes. But right now, the stretch if it all burns like white hot fire.

When both are in her, they take care to help her relax until her body adjusts to the size. They wipe away her tears as she sinks into their hold.

"So good for us, amour. Taking both of us so beautifully." Charles exhales a breathy moan as if to further prove his point.

"Fuck schat, you look so pretty taking us so well."

And then everything went fuzzy. The friction of the two males was too much. Moving in and out in tandem; perfectly in sync with each other. Her thoughts seemed to be replaced only with them. Their breathing, the sounds, the feeling of skin on skin.

"Dobyou want it, schat? You want us to put a baby in you?"

She can't actually speak properly, but there is definitely a yes that can be heard in her moans.

Their praises are only pushing her closer to her breaking point. "I'm- please- I can't."

She doesn't even have time to warn them. She can't warn them. She can't hear them either. Her nails are buried in their skin.

They spill into her simultaneously. Their bodies are perfectly connected with each other. It feels overwhelming and terribly beautiful. The feeling of them spilling inside of her at the same time.

When they come down from the high is the hard part. Max slides out first, and Charles follows, slowly and gently. They collapse in a heap of exhaustion. The emotional tie and physical tie completely took their energy.

"Do you think maybe this time...?" She trails. Her question weighs on them.

"In time, mon amour. We'll still be here even if it's not."

Summer break is a time to recuperate. The three of you are on summer vacation, spending time together on the beach.

That night had been a month a half ago. The female had yet to realize she was late to her cycle. Opting to ignore it and assume she's just messed up for some reason.

The second to last morning of their trip, she woke up feeling absolutely terrible.

She snuck out of bed as quickly as she could without waking the boys who are much heavier sleepers than her anyway.

The nausea feeling was overpowering, and it didn't matter how stealthy she was. They woke up to the sound of her spilling the contents of her stomach.

And then every day after the the point everyone is concerned.

Two months and still no period, she finds herself at the doctors. The boys are back to racing, but with her state, she decided to stay in Monaco.

A decision she was now regretting while having the test from the doctor in her hands.

She is definitely pregnant this time. The paper in her hands says it clear as day.

It is only Friday. She has time to get out to the race to surprise them. And with that idea floating in her head, she calls Pascale.

Her and Pascale arrived to the track fifteen minutes into the race. The older woman is making a fuss over her as she tries to jog to the redbull garage. She was in Ferrari last time, and Redbull is closer to her anyway.

Pascale shakes her head as she watches the female slip into hospitality.

Max and Charles both made podium. She was absolutely ecstatic and even more so that Christian helped her get to where they would park.

They didn't notice her at first, even doing a double take at her and then each other. Then, with their helmets off, they ran to great her.

Their smiles were so big that she thought they might fall off.

They both attempted to embrace her through the divider, and she was able to slip her test results into the hand of Charles.

They looked at her skeptically before once again, having to leave her.

It wasn't until the cooldown room that they had a chance to look. Charles tentatively unfolds the paper and holds it out on front of him and Max.

The cameras got a lovely picture of the two hugging very tightly despite being 'rivals', and the happy tears from Charles could be made out even through the sweat.

Did it have people looking at the scene a little funny? Yes. She could hear the gasps of disapproval, but she didn't care. The teams know already and gave them the go-ahead over a year ago to make the relationship public.

She watches them with love and adoration.

"Definitely mine."

"No way! The baby will look like me!"

She rolls her eyes at the two. "Does it matter?" They look at her with mouths agape.

She is actively holding the paper that determines who wins. The paper that will tell them who the biological father is.

And she rips it.

Because no matter what, they are a family. The boys are looking at her endearingly despite the fact that she just took away their results. Because it doesn't matter. They are making their own little family and they couldn't be happier.

So, the argument of the last name order continues one.

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theemporium · 8 months

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🐈‍⬛ lestappen werewolves where sometimes the animal instinct takes over and they feel the need to provide for you…like bringing a bunny to the back porch

basically we need to see them in wolf form being adorable

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

“Is that…is that a bunny?”

Your eyes widened from you spot in the kitchen as you quickly grabbed the drinks from the fridge before rushing back out to the living room where Alex was currently standing. He was by the window, staring wide-eyed and shocked at the dead bunny lying on the small porch that led outside to your garden.

“Uh yeah,” you said as you handed him his drink, trying to stay as calm and casual as you could. “Poor guy must’ve had a bad run in with a fox.”

Alex frowned sadly. “Poor guy indeed. Are you gonna…dispose of him?”

“Are you asking me what I’m gonna do with the dead bunny on my porch?” You deadpanned, watching as the Brit grew sheepish.

“Well you haven’t moved it yet so,” he trailed off before shrugging his shoulders. His expression became a lot more teasing as he grinned at you. “Why do you not get one of your little boy toys to move it?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “They aren’t here right now, they are—”

Alex frowned at the way you quickly cut yourself off. “They are what?”

“Camping,” you said suddenly, frowning a little at your own excuse but you had already dug your grave, you may as well lie in it. “They, uh, wanted to get outdoors for a few days.”

“And you didn’t go with?” Alex asked.

“Pfft,” you let out a small laugh. “Nah, I don’t do the outdoors. That’s their thing.”

And that much was true, so very true in a way that you could never disclose to your best friend or anyone else for that matter. Your relationship with Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc was already constantly under question and scrutiny, the last thing they needed was another thing to obsess over.

And you knew they would love to find out you were practically dating two massive puppies.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you said with a sigh as you stood on the porch, a blanket tightly drawn around your shoulders to battle the evening chill as you watched the two wolves pad towards the house. “I can’t keep explaining the dead bunnies.”

Max approached you first, slightly larger than the two of them with light brown fur and narrow eyes that reminded you of a predator. Charles had darker fur, slightly leaner and smaller of the two.

The lighter wolf padded forward, dropping the small animal at your feet before looking up at you expectantly.

You huff out a small laugh, shaking your head. “I appreciate it, baby, but I don’t know how many more I can handle burying.”

The darker wolf let out a whimper, his head tilted to the side. It took everything in you to not roll your eyes as you leaned over, softly scratching behind his ears as he nosed at your legs.

It was rare for them to get like this, to crave their animal form. But it happened. Not very often, and honestly you hadn’t even seen it many times in the time you had been dating. It was just these deep, primal urges that made them crave the wolf side of themselves, that made them parade around the woods behind your house for days in their animal form until they were ready to come back home.

But even in these moods, your boys had an overpowering sense of caring for you. And unfortunately in wolf form, that meant hunting innocent bunnies as a small present (and probably dinner) in their eyes.

“I forget how cute you two are like this,” you murmured as you sat on the steps of the porch, both wolves curling up by your feet as they preened and flourished under your attention. “My lil’ puppies, hm?”

Max lifted his head up to glare.

“Oh hush, you’re the biggest puppy,” you smiled as you leaned down to softly pat his head. A smile that widened when he whined after you pulled away.

“But I seriously mean it, no more bunnies or you’re both staying in the dog house.”

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va1entinesg4l · 2 months

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full of surprises pt.2

☆ pt. 1

pairing: charles leclerc x reader x max verstappen

summary: now that the world knows who the fathers are, what would the public think?

warnings: none except poor translations of french!

“Max! Charles! Is it true that you both are the fathers of y/n’s child?”

“Are you three a throuple?”

“Is Lestappen real then?”

Questions were being asked every single day and both Max and Charles were desperate to answer them. But despite their management being strict with their reputation, they were forced to stay silent.

“Max will be the father of y/n’s child. In public, of course.” that’s what both managers of the boys agreed on. They decided to clear things up with Max being your partner and the father of your child. So in every or any public events which the drivers will be attending, the arm around your waist, is Max’s.

Charles’s heart sank when they told him that. How could he just watch both the love of his life act all happy and in love from afar. He wasn’t just hurt, but betrayed.

The child is Charles’s as much as it’s Max’s. Why should he be kept away from them?

“This isn’t going to work. I’m not doing this.” Charles says sternly, giving you and Max a serious look as he paces around the hotel bedroom. Max crosses his arms with a heavy heart as he watches Charles, he knew what Charles was feeling but who was he to deny that this whole media bullshit was wrong?

You take Charles’s hand as you reassure him, “We just have to deal with this for a few months, mon amour..” Charles shoots you a glare at that and argues, “A few months? I can’t even deal with this for a minute.”

He yanks his hand away from yours as he mutters a ‘fuck’. Then a knock came on the door, Charles’s manager speaking.

“Car is ready, be down in five.”

There was a charity event held by Ferrari and every driver was going. With you being ‘just’ Max’s partner for the cameras, you knew shit might happen tonight.

Max takes your hand as he gives Charles one last glance before heading to the car downstairs with you, Charles following 5 minutes behind as he gets into another car.

You and Max, and Charles both arrive at a different time to avoid any attractions but once you get out of the car, cameras start flashing and questions about your relationship with the boys were once thrown again.

The security leads you both inside the building away from the cameras. The event crowded with people, the Williams drivers chatting along with the Mercedes drivers. Ferrari’s team principal, Fred, talking with Toto.

Max keeps his arm around you as you both try to look for Charles and there he was, alone as he smiles at the people who were greeting him. The smile which was fake and only filled with sadness.

Your heart ached just by watching him being alone, Max couldn’t look at him, it felt like it was his fault, it should’ve been him in Charles’s position.

Charles finally spots you and Max and he looks away, forcing a smile as he engages in conversation with the others to distract himself.

Charles sat at a different table, his expression blank as he holds a new glass of champagne after each empty ones. Speeches went on for hours and Charles just wanted to leave, he couldn’t help but steal glances at you and Max, seeing how close you both are, every touch he gives you, every kiss. In his mind, it felt real. it felt like he wasn’t always the one you and Max loved most.

It was finally Charles’s turn to give a speech after Carlos’s and from the way some of the buttons of his dress shirt was undone, he was drunk.

“Hi.. everyone.” Charles slurs slightly, clearing his throat before continuing. You stare at him from your seat and you felt as if Charles might say something he might just regret.

“I wanted to thank everyone who joined this event tonight. As you all know, Ferrari has been my dream since i was a child and i would’ve never made it this far if it weren’t for my father and Jules.” He stops his sentence, his breath ragged which could be heard through the speakers.

His eyes then land on you and Max, his jaw clenched slightly before speaking again.

“But tonight I wanted to tell everyone something. Three years ago I would’ve given up this career if i hadn’t met y/n, she made something inside of me spark again and it was like a gift from god.”

“Since then i’ve fallen in love with her, but also with someone i’ve never thought of loving.” He shifts his gaze to Max and he swore he saw Max’s eyes soften.

“Max is a wonderful person. Anyone who’s ever seen him as a bad guy for being a winner on track will never understand. J’aime y/n et Max. I love y/n and Max. So yes, the three of us are in love and happy together. The child y/n is carrying is mine as much as it’s Max’s. Which yes, both Max and i are the fathers of y/n’s child.”

A few gasps and murmurs came from the crowd but you could see the other drivers of the grid putting proud smiles on their faces, your heart bursting with happiness at Charles’s confession. Charles gives a drunken smile at the crowd before slurring his words again.

“Et si quelqu'un a un problème avec ça, vous pouvez gentiment vous faire foutre.” And if anyone has a problem with that, you can kindly fuck off.

He stumbles off the stage and Carlos immediately helps him. You run over to him as Max helps him up as well, taking him to the restroom to freshen up.

He was slowly sobering up after Max had forced him to drink four glasses of water and he sits down on the floor, his back slumping against the wall as he chuckles to himself, saying.

“I couldn’t give two fucks about what the media would say but at least now they know the truth.” You and Max look at him but before you both could even say a word, he plays with the ring that was recently worn on his finger.

“Alors maintenant, pouvons-nous en finir avec ça et planifier notre mariage?” So now can we get this over with and plan our wedding?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

im sorry it took WEEKS for me to finish this but my exams are over, thank god. 😭 this really wasn’t the ending i wanted to write since i was suppose to write a part 3 but i couldn’t keep you guys waiting anymore so i wrote the ending and everything in this part. i love you guys for reading & thanks for being patient!!

#charles leclerc x reader #formula one imagine #max verstappen x reader #formula one #charles leclerc #max verstappen

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nico-di-genova · 2 months

Note

For the ask game:

22. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

For Lestappen please! 🙏🏼

Thank you, have a lovely day 🫶🏼

22. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

Charles has just about had it. Had it with the media who shove microphones in his face and demand to know what happened, why he and Max had ended up tire deep in the gravel. Had it with Pierre making little jokes about Charles and his ‘anger issues’. Had it with the disappointed looks Fred keeps casting his way during debriefs, as the damage to the car is discussed and the cost it will take to fix it. He’s had it with the social media team, the word ‘inchident’, the way his bad English in his teens seem to be one of his longest lasting legacies.

“It’s okay, we can spin this," they say, as if he gives a shit. It was a race. He raced, he saw a gap, he went for it, Max moved, and they both ended up out. It wasn’t anything.

But jesus, if Max gives him another one of those looks, Charles is going to lose every bit of media training he’s ever endured and strangle him right on this stage. In front of God, the cameras and everyone. He clenches his fists in his lap, grinds his teeth, feels his jaw tense. The cameras are probably picking it up, so he schools his expression into bored indifference. A neutral mask, they will know he is unhappy but they will not know it is with the Dutch bastard staring him down from the other end of the couch.

“It was nothing. Just an inchident, right Charles?” Max says, with that edge of ‘I think I’m hilarious, aren’t I?’ that makes Charles want to actually scream.

Instead, he picks up his own mic and laughs, nearly a giggle as he’s been instructed, it plays cuter. Makes him look less like the track menace who rammed into the back of Max’s car on turn sixteen of the Chinese circuit, as he cursed out Max’s speed in the straights over the radio.

“Yes, hah, right. We will, uh, we will do better this weekend.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as strained as he feels, rehearsed, it’s harder to pretend when he can feel the weight of Max’s gaze on him like the full weight of his own car, plus half the rest of the grids just for good measure.

Max grins, wicked little glint in his eye, “Absolutely.” And then he’s spinning the attention away from Charles and back to the Red Bull’s performance in high wind conditions – there’s a tropical storm brewing off the coast and it’s been fucking with the weather. How his team is confident they will be able to pull away from the rest of the grid with enough ease that situations like the last race don’t happen again.

Charles thinks about beating him to death with the microphone in his hands. Not seriously, not in a way he would ever act on, just in a way that would mean he doesn’t have to stare at the back end of a Red Bull wing for another fifty-seven laps.

The rest of media day is fairly uneventful. He knocks out some joint video stuff with Carlos, does a few social media photos and merch signings, and tries to ignore the questions about Max that just seem to keep coming.

Only once does he bite, when someone asks him if he and Max will ever refollow each other on Instagram.

He laughs, “He will have to follow me back first.”

There’s a camera recording his response, grainy iPhone footage that he will definitely see on Twitter later. Good. Let Max see the gauntlet he’s thrown down. Let him see the Ferrari cap Charles had been signing with the easy flick of his wrist and sharpie across the brim. Let him see Charles does not care.

Because he doesn’t.

Why should he?

Except that maybe he does, because when Max shows up at his hotel room that night he can’t help the annoyed sound that escapes him.

“What?”

“So we’re fine a week ago, but you send me into the gravel and it’s you who gets to play the silent game?”

He’s been ignoring Max’s texts. There had been a lot of them.

“There is no game, I am busy. Meetings. Repairs. You know, the damage to the car.”

“Oh you’re moonlighting as your own mechanic now? Ferrari is that desperate?”

Max is angry, but more than that he’s hurt. Charles can see the flash of it in his eyes and in the tension when he clenches and unclenches his fists at his side.

“You’re-“ Max glances down the hall, at the Aston Martin employee who’s casting them glances.

Charles waves.

Max lowers his voice until only Charles can hear, “You are such a sore loser.”

The sting of it is well aimed, lands right between Charles ribs, pisses him off enough that he drops the act for a minute and tells Max to go fuck himself in Italian before slamming the door in his face.

It’s not that he’s never been called that before, more than he’s never been called it by Max. Somehow that hurts more.

Max wins in Miami. Charles has engine trouble on lap thirty and has to retire by lap thirty-two. The smile that he forces on afterward when he lies through his teeth that ‘it is like this’ hurts more than his pounding head after the DNF in China.

He tries to drown it all out by hiding in his room until his flight the next morning, instead he ends up at Max’s door.

“I hate you,” he says when the man opens it wide enough that Charles can slink past.

His hair is damp, sticking up in spikey points atop his head, and his white shirt is sticking to wet patches of his skin. He smells like ember, or leather, or something distinctly sharp. Charles tries not to think about it.

Instead, he paces tracks into the plush carpet and keeps his eyes glued to the movement of his own feet while the words spew out of him faster than he can stop them. It’s not all in English, spoken so fast he’s sure Max has missed most of it.

“I fucking hate you. You stupid. Moronic. Annoying. Idiot. You and your inchident like I am stupid. Fuck you. That was my race. My line-.”

“Is this about China?”

“Yes,” Charles spits, “Of course it is about China.”

Max crosses his arms. Watches as Charles motions wildly in the air.

“It is about China. And Suzuka. And Melbourne. About every circuit you follow me onto.”

“I follow you onto?”

“Shut up.”

“Interesting perspective.”

“Stop.”

“I didn’t even finish Melbourne.”

“Shut. Up!” He yells, he can’t help it, feels like something in his chest finally snaps and then there is a long silence where neither of them say anything at all. They both stare at each other, like someone took out a gun and shot the other. Charles does not yell. He is polite, kind, he is exceedingly lovely.

He does not yell.

Except that sometimes he does, and right now he would like to just so he could feel the pure release of it. Sometimes he does not want to be fucking kind. But he also does not want to yell at Max, realizes the pointlessness of it all.

“You want to be friends? Still?” Charles asks, because it is Max who had begun this whole dance of repairing whatever shattered thing sat between them from when they were kids. Max who had started texting him asking to play FIFA and paddle, to go running with him, offered his private jet for flights if needed. Giving everything hand over fist to Charles, assumedly because Red Bull had seen how well he listened to team orders, and behaved, and wanted to own him before Ferrari could lock him down again. Charles had played the game, and he’d maybe even become Max’s friend in the process, but there’s still a part of him that is twelve and bitter – bitter that Max has always had the money, the better kart, bitter he can’t seem to catch up no matter how hard he pushes down on the throttle.

“Do you want to be friends?” Max asks, keeping a wary distance from Charles that once would have felt normal but now seems unfamiliar. He looks at Charles like he is a ticking time bomb. Charles hates it. He hates feeling weak.

“I…I don’t know.”

“We don’t have to be, “ Max says, like the thought has not occurred to Charles.

“I know-.”

Max cuts him off like he can hear the growing edge in Charles' voice and wants to avoid alerting the housekeeping staff in the hall to their bickering.

“Then just say that. I won’t text. I’ll leave you alone. Don’t do something you don’t want to do, Charles.”

It is reminiscent of Max telling him choose whatever team he wanted a few months back, telling him to fuck expectation and do something just because he wanted it. Which was ironic coming from the three-time world champion who only wanted to race cars online. Charles chose Ferrari, because there was never realistically a world where he wouldn’t.

The simpleness of it, the way Max is so willing to just let him go, to give up on the bridge they’d slowly been building between them – Charles suddenly hates him all over again. Max Verstappen and his chivalry and his kindness and his brutal honesty because he has no need to lie. It sparks that familiar jealousy in Charles.

Which is maybe why he throws some of Max’s own medicine back at him.

“I have seen the way you look at me,” he blurts out, “When you think I will not notice.”

Max takes a moment to catch-up with the twist in conversation. His eyebrows doing this expressive little dance that Charles almost finds endearing before it settles on hurt shock.

“What?”

“You are not subtle.”

“I don’t-.”

“You’re only nice to me because you think you can fuck me now. That doesn’t make you special Max, that is all anyone wants me for anyway.”

There is a moment where he thinks Max will tell him to get out, a moment where he would go, it is a moment that is quickly lost in the anger that makes itself at home in Max’s eyes. The bridge crumbles, they are twelve and all they want to do is hurt.

“God, how do you see anything over that massive ego of yours, Leclerc.”

“You’re the three time champion, Verstappen. You tell me.”

Max steps closer, Charles steps back, he meets the resistance of the dresser and Max is suddenly there. Chest to chest, the two of them staring each other down with enough vitriol that it would probably put Pierre and Esteban to shame.

“You’re a fucking dick, Charles.” Max growls, “It’s not my fault Ferrari can’t pull their shit together enough to put you in a decent car.”

“Your car is a violation,” Charles spits back, “easy to win when you ignore the rules. Like always.”

They should stop, Charles thinks, knows they’re toeing along the precipice of something. But he’s sick of playing by the rules, so he pushes.

“Cheating is how you win, yes?”

Max's hands fist in the fabric of his shirt and push him further against the dresser before he even has the chance to blink. The furniture digs into his spine, until Charles can’t help the wounded sound that escapes him.

Max wrestles with something inside himself, Charles watches the struggle. He starts to pull away, but Charles grabs him by the hips and keeps him there. Max looks at him with that familiar expression, the one that Charles has been ignoring for months, want and need and longing all wrapped in steely grey that should be cold but might be warmest thing Charles has ever been cast in the light of.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Max says, and Charles feels rage. But it isn’t rage, not at all. It’s want. It’s the same feeling he gets when he’s gaining on Max in a race, hungry with the need to pass, to overtake, to get ahead and taste the clean air for once. It’s what landed them both in the gravel two weeks back.

Charles is smart, calculated when he needs to be, and right now he doesn’t want to play dumb.

“If I want you to hurt me?” he asks, really asks, even if he’s sure he hasn’t read the signs wrong.

Max’s expression does another dance, settles on the same want that Charles is reflecting back at him, “I don’t cheat.” He states.

Charles smiles, and it’s not the PR smile, all pretty for the cameras, it’s the smile of a man who drives on the limit and curses when he still can’t get ahead. “I don’t care. I’m going to beat you one day either way.”

Max wins in Imola, but Charles wins in Monaco.

They stand on the podium as the Monégasque anthem blares and he looks at Charles with pride, longing, reverence.

Charles notices, he always does.

#charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #formula 1 #my fic #lestappen fic #I call this: want disguised as hate disguised as mess

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nyoomfruits · 10 months

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005. a private jet miles high in the sky .

This can be nothing but lestappen 💙❤️ tia!

005. a private jet miles high in the sky

They’re running late, and so it’s a bit of a frenzy getting into the plane, getting everybody situated and ready for take off in time, which means Max and Charles don’t really interact until they’re both falling into their respective seats across from each other and finally make eye contact.

And immediately burst out into laughter.

It’s relief, Charles thinks, as he clutches his side and doubles over, laughter turning more into a choked off wheeze as Max throws his head back and clutches at his stomach. It’s months of stress and pressure and worry falling off their shoulders as it truly starts to sink in what they just did.

Charles laughs until his sides start hurting, until no noise comes out anymore, until there are tears in his eyes. Max, across from him is much the same, wiping his hand across his cheeks and letting out small hiccupping laughs as they finally settle down a little again.

“God, Silvia is going to kill me,” Charles says, when they’ve regained themselves again. The plane has started taxing now, and Charles feels the engine roar to life underneath them.

“You didn’t speak to her? At the track?” Max asks, surprised.

Charles pulls a face. “No. That might have been a little on purpose, but don’t tell her that.”

Max laughs. “I mean, PR is PR, right? And this is definitely going to be making some front pages.” It sounds, cocky, almost, but he’s not wrong.

It is, after all, the first time two drivers publicly came out by making out on the top step of the podium.

“God, I can’t believe we just did that,” Charles says, and another giggle escapes him. “When you said, that we should go public, this is not what I had in mind.”

Max’s face shutters a little. “Shit, I’m sorry, did I-“

“No,” Charles says, cutting him off. “No, Max, don’t worry. It was perfect. I loved it. It was unexpected, that’s all.”

Max smiles at him, soft and fond. “Good.” And then, because he can never go too long without saying it. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Charles says, and Max’s smile nearly rivals the one he’d had on the podium earlier that day.

Max had won the race, Charles in second. It had been a while, since they’d both shared the podium, and Charles felt giddy with it. Not just with the feeling of being up there again, after what had been a pretty shit season so far, but also the feeling of Max, next to him. Max must’ve been excited too, kept beaming down at him, proud and happy and in love, and then, right as they got to the champagne spraying, Max had pulled him up on the top step, out of nowhere, and pressed their lips together in a searing kiss.

Charles had melted into it almost instantly.

There’s going to be repercussions, probably. He doesn’t know yet what the FIA will say, but chances are they won’t be happy. And their teams will probably have a thing or two to say about it as well. But right now, it doesn’t really matter.

Right now, Max is sitting across from him, beaming smile on his face, his hair still sticky with champagne, looking absolutely radiant. Right now, Charles feels like he’s on top of the world, like he’s the luckiest man on earth, like nothing can take this away from him.

Right now, Charles Leclerc is madly, madly, in love with Max Verstappen, and the whole world knows.

#figured we needed some TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF after that shit show of a race (for charles at least) and like NO lestappen moments all weekend #lestappen #drabble

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beabnormal24 · 13 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/beabnormal24/749880910352105472/hi-i-just-need-to-vent-i-do-not-have-the-words

This!!!! Oh my god!!! I really did like landoscar fics at first. But the way the amount of fics now that just portray Carlos as the bad guy is insane!!! And it's not just landoscar but lestappen fics too!

Carlos always ends up being the antagonist or the ex that was horrible and well as you've said a ab*ser. I get it that it's fiction and it's their writing and they're free to do whatever they want.

And I understand that sometimes in some plots why Carlos had to be the bad guy. It makes sense plot wise. Great. You're free to write what ever you want.

But there's a line that should not be crossed. And they cross it all the time.

And sometimes you can clearly tell that they do not like Carlos just from how they write him. Especially in fics where Charles or Oscar are the main protagonist in lestappen and landoscar fics because the writer will always make Carlos this horrible character. And it’s always the fics with lestappen and landoscar as side ship or vice versa. Which again ok everyone has their fav drivers and are free to have opinions but the way they are so easy and quick to make Carlos (a real person that they don’t know personally) an ab*ser.

The way I have backed out of multiple ongoing fics that i did like recently because they didn’t tag it properly (probably for like a shock element) and Carlos was this ab*ser character and was horrible to poor Charles and Lando and Oscar and Max were this saviour protecting them from big bad Carlos. One fic is somewhat understandable but multiple fics that’s just hating and being vile towards Carlos is insane. And making him this character that is always this ab*ser like character.

The way this behavior has turned me away from lestappen (which was how i got into f1 rpf bc I loved them and still do but i just cannot read or appreciate them anymore) and landoscar is actually crazy. I have been in multiple fandoms with ships that I don’t like and let the shippers be. Always been a firm believer in “don’t like don’t read/dni” but sometimes you have to interact and call what they’re doing wrong. It’s not even the ships that are bad it’s the shippers. They are so toxic and this toxicity makes you turn away from the whole ship.

Sorry if this doesn’t make sense but yeah…

Anon, this made incredibly sense, and I have to share this because I have never heard truer words. I, too, have had to clock out of ongoing fics because of this, I just can’t stand it when Carlos becomes the bad character, sometimes even without a logical reason at all!

Like once I was reading this Landoscar fic and all of a sudden they just straight out started saying that Carlos was stupid and an idiot and he was an asshole, but that didn’t even fit in the entire dialogue the characters were having!

In another fic, they went as far as k*lling Carlos, just because they hated him.

This is not fiction, this is a problematic mentality. I get that you can despise someone, but as anon said that’s just taking it too far and it has become extremely toxic and disgusting.

#carlos sainz #pro carlos sainz #f1 rpf fic #rpf has become a mess honestly

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f1tyreslightmyfyre · 7 months

Text

Immortal Artistry - Ch. 3

Series Main List

A Vampire AU F1 Fic Featuring Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader, George Russell x Fem!Reader, hints of Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader, Lestappen, Sebchal, and Sainzell (or Russainz?)

Also on AO3

Ch. 3 Warnings: Language; stalker behavior; abduction; vampire thrall; WWII references to Hitler and Nazi regime; non-graphic violence, murder and death

2023

A tall man stands before you in the parking garage with sandy blonde hair, broad shoulders and a lean, tapered waist that shouldn’t be so distracting in such a risky situation. He braces one hand against his hip and the other hangs at his side as he offers a small smile. “Hello.” He says your name, and all of your survival instincts go on high alert.

Your heart hammers as adrenaline lights you up. “Wha… who are you?” You freeze in place, gripping your laptop bag to swing it in self-defense if needed. “H-how do you know my name?”

“My name is Max, and Charles told me.” His mouth pulls to a tight, closed-mouth smile as if indulging a small child. “And, really, nothing more should be said right now. And certainly not here.”

“O-okay.” You force a hard swallow. “Um, then… I’ll just be on my way.” You motion towards your car behind him, but he takes a step forward with a tense shake of his head.

“I’m afraid you can’t do that. Or, at least, not yet.” He says, taking another step forward, and you instinctively step back. “There are some things that you’re better off understanding first.”

“I-I don’t need to understand anything.” You stammer, taking another backwards step but it’s no match for his forward advance. “I haven’t done anything, and if you so much as fucking touch me, I’ll scream and bring the security guard running.”

He sighs in vague annoyance, but hardly looks deterred. “Well, we could have done this the easy way – believe me when I say that I’m here for your protection, that I don’t want to see you hurt – but I guess we’ll just have to do it the hard way.”

He lunges forward with a burst of impossible speed, holding your gaze captive with his own. His ice blue eyes glow like twin stars, and you’re helpless to look away. Waves of warmth and security roll through you, and… why exactly were you trying to get away from him? Especially as the comforting weight of his palm cups your jaw and his fingers caress your cheek. You want to melt into him, to never be without him, to always have him like this.

“That’s it,” he rumbles gently, stroking your cheek. “Now that we’ve made up from our fight, give me a hug for the camera…”

Your arms wrap around him without a second thought, and fuck… the solid, firm build of him sends your blood racing.

“That’s my girl.” He praises through the fog in your ears, pressing his lips against your other cheek. “Now, shall we get on with our date night? Loop your arm around my waist now, come on, and how about a smile…?”

He draws back and you're helpless not to drown under his lovely gaze as he shifts to your side. Your arm lands around the lean line of his waist as a smile brightens your face, and really… what’s so bad about this?

Your footsteps match his as you both draw up to your car and he guides you into the passenger seat. A whimper passes your lips as the lean strength of his body withdraws, and you try to reach out for him as he closes the door.

“No, schatje.” He says gently as he folds your hand back in your lap. “I’ll just be a minute.”

The door closes, and you can’t breathe as he circles around the front of the car and slides into the driver’s seat. It’s only as his hand envelops yours that the weight lifts from your chest and you stare at him, helpless to look anywhere else.

You barely hear the sound of the engine ignition or see the passing city lights as he cuts through the night. You don’t even know where you are as he finally brings the car to a stop. But again, the distance between you as he walks over to the passenger side of the car lances anxiety through you until his hand reconnects with yours – and you never want to be without him. How could you? Why would you?

“Come on,” he whispers carefully as your feet move against a smooth surface – concrete, you think. A driveway. “This way…” He coos as he guides you forward and you cling to him, uncaring about anything else.

He pushes a large door open and golden light floods your vision. You can just make out white and cream blurs that might be furniture, but when you’re in his arms like this, who cares about furniture?

“Charles!” Max calls out loudly, and you press your ear tight against his chest as if to drown out the loud noise. “Charles, get down here!”

His strong arm disappears from around your waist and you're gently coaxed to sit on something soft and cushy. But you only have eyes for him as he starts to draw back, and you reach out for him as another voice echoes in your foggy brain.

“Mon dieu…” The voice is pure astonishment. “Max, what the hell is this? What is she-”

“George found her.”

“Fucking hell… and you had to bring her here for that?”

“You put her in danger and you need to get her out of it.”

“Seb would say that we should just drain her and be done with it.”

“And it may yet come to that, but with Xavi’s death, we might need her.”

“… Fine.” A long sigh follows, and another man moves into your vision. He’s… vaguely familiar, like a shadow from a distant dream, but he’s not the one you want..

Your hands reach out, feebly searching for what you know you’ll surely die without.

“Good lord, Max.” The man in front of you sighs again. “You didn’t have to go so hard on her.”

“I barely used my thrall… that’s all her, mate.”

“Then, get her out of it. Now.”

That same strong, comforting hand finds your jaw, and you reconnect with those gorgeous glacial eyes. All feels so right with the world and nothing could possibly –

“As you were.” Max commands, and the fog lifts.

You gasp as you come back to yourself, overloaded by too many realizations at once.

For one, the home you’re in is cavernous and opulent – for fuck’s sake, it's a mansion… if not a palace.

For two, Charles Leclerc, III, crouches down in front of you, dressed in grey joggers and a white t-shirt, looking far too relaxed despite the annoyed set of his handsome face.

For three, Max from the parking garage stands next to him with a terrifyingly neutral expression on his face.

“Where… what the fuck just happened? How did I get here? And…” your mouth goes dry and words choke in your throat. “Why am I here? I-I don’t know anything about what happened to Padros -”

“It’s alright,” Charles cuts off your rambling. “You’re not in danger, at least not from us.”

You scoff. “Yeah, I suppose you would say that.”

The corner of Charles’ mouth lifts. “And if I really did intend to hurt you, a comment like that could earn you a backhand across the cheek.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

The wicked lift of Charles’ mouth grows. “I don’t need to strike you to pacify you.”

A terrifying mix of vulnerability and arousal curdles in your blood. You’re suddenly all too aware of these intimidating men before you, and you’re still entirely too discomforted that you can’t recall anything about how you got here. To this… mansion with these two handsome – gorgeous, really – men staring down at you, oozing all confidence and power.

Dammit, this is not the time for your kinky side to take hold.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your unease and regain some modicum of control despite how powerless you feel. “Okay… but why am I here?”

Charles blinks back at you. “I’m given to understand that you know George Russell.”

Indignation furrows your brow. “And just how is that any of your business?”

“I’m told that it’s my fault he contacted you.”

The wrinkled set of your brow deepens. “You’re ‘given to understand’, you’re ‘told’… do you not do anything for yourself?”

Max snorts a breathless laugh. “You know, she has a point, mate.”

Nothing in the handsome lines of Charles’ face changes despite the hint of a smirk coming to his face. “I’ve known Max for quite a long time, and you wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t true.” He shifts his weight, bracing a forearm against a knee. “Has George told you anything?”

You arch an incredulous brow. “Anything about what…? Just what the fuck is going on here?” Frustration tightens your voice as your hand clenches in your lap. “He’s nobody, alright? George hasn’t told me anything! He’s never mentioned either of you. He’s just some new guy at work –"

“How new?” Charles’ tone is disconcertingly calm.

“A couple of weeks, he said.”

“And when did you first meet him?”

“The night….” A chill races down your spine as your mind catches up to your adrenaline-fueled instincts. “I was leaving work just after our meeting, just after I had met you…”

Charles’ eyes brighten as the connection is made. “And where did you meet George? Behind the secured access points of your building?”

“No…” A shiver creeps along your skin. “In the parking garage… and then again, in the main lobby…”

Max shakes his head with a scoff. “It’s easy enough to walk around a vehicle barrier or into an open lobby during business hours.”

The realizations mix with the memory of your search for George in your company’s chat program. And after hearing Charles say George’s full name tonight, you hadn’t misheard, nor had you misspelled ‘Russell’ so poorly. Your mouth goes dry at the implication as your stomach sours.

But the last thing you want to do is admit that Charles is right. That this man, whose - lacky? Minion? Bodyguard? Max? – abducted you to his house, is actually telling the truth.

Charles blinks and gives his head a gentle shake. “For that and all of this, I do apologize. I didn’t intend to put you in such danger.”

You fix Charles with a hard stare. “But what about Xavier? If he had met with you instead of me, would George have contacted him, too?”

An enigmatic expression comes to Charles’ face. “I’m afraid those are questions for another time. This is about George, not Xavi.”

“But they’re connected, aren’t they?” You try to seek the answer in Charles’ face. “They have to be.”

The muscles of Charles’ jaw tighten. “If George contacts you again, don’t engage with him. Don’t help him. And paramount for your own safety, never look him in the eyes.”

You scoff. “That’s ridiculous. And makes no sense.” Another frustrated sigh escapes you. “Nothing happens from looking someone in the eyes. We’re not wolves, for fuck’s sake.”

Max sighs. “It’s not aggression that you need to worry about from him. Hypnosis is far more dangerous.”

“Hypnosis?” You glare up at Max as creeping realization overtakes you. “Is that how I got here...?” You feel stupid for even asking the question, but very little about this entire conversation makes sense. “You…” your gaze trails back to Charles. “Max hypnotized me…?”

The corner of Charles’ mouth edges up, revealing the gleam of white teeth. “You probably shouldn’t make direct eye contact with him, either,” he chuckles with a suggestive undertone. “Unless you want to, of course. Plenty of people do.”

You recoil at the implication, leaning back against the chair as Charles’ gentle laugh continues.

Max sighs with thinly veiled annoyance. “Come on, Charles. Don’t play with your food.”

The words rot in your gut and you dart wide eyes up to Max. All your instincts urge you to fight for escape – to flee for your life – but you have precious few options. Especially as Charles leans closer and his eyes darken above his attempt at a calming smile.

“He’s only joking. You needn’t be so frightened, cara mia.” He coos gently as his gaze runs over your face and down your neck with a sudden, startling hunger. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

“Well, what do you expect?” You hiss, grabbing the chair armrests as if that would save you. “You hypnotize me, you fucking kidnap me –”

Charles pushes to his feet. “Technically speaking, that was all Max. He had no direction from me to do so, but I’m glad that he did bring you here.” He shakes his head as he braces a hand on his hip and looks at Max. “This development is an unfortunate wrinkle. Surprising, even.”

Max nods shortly. “They’ve never come this close.”

Charles hums in quiet agreement. “That’s something we should look into. But first,” he turns back to you with a quick glance. “Take her home. Put her to bed.”

“And the rest…?”

Charles steps around him, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder that borders on overly intimate. “I trust you.”

You push up from the chair, heart pounding as you seize the moment and start to run. But faster than you can breathe, a strong, solid arm hooks around your waist. You collide with the broad plane of Max's chest, and he isn’t even breathing hard as his chilly fingers find your jaw. Fuck, just why is his skin so cold? “Please…" you whimper. “Please don’t –"

“I know, schatje.” Max says softly as he tips your face up towards his and you glimpse those ice blue eyes. “Right here, that’s it.” He praises as your gazes lock. “Just like that…”

The world turns warm and fuzzy, and calmness suffuses you. Your muscles relax from the tension and relief surges through you. Tears sting your eyes and roll down your cheeks as you all but dissolve into the only source of comfort and protection that you need.

Max holds you close as you desperately cling to him. “I know, I know,” he says with a slight edge of irritation, and he guides your unsteady feet. “But like Charles said, you don’t need to be frightened of us. After all, this is just a dream. Just a dream.”

The words resound in your brain.

Just a dream.

1943

Nightfall in the Netherlands continues to yield its secrets. Each German-occupied country possesses scars of the looting conquerors and Charles’ keen nose for the hunt continues to surprise both him and Seb.

And he’s not just referring to the acrid smoke in the air.

“Fucking bombers.” Charles grouses. “Can they not tell the difference between a factory and a museum?”

“I imagine it’s difficult.” Seb muses as dirt crunches against the cobblestone beneath their feet. “Mortals’ vision is already so limited and from that high altitude, moving at those speeds.” He tilts his head up to the hazy sky in assessment. “How could you accurately tell one building from another?”

“Factories have chimneys and black smoke.”

“Not all of them do. Textile miles don’t… at least,” Seb pauses as he frowns. “Well, they didn’t use to. But maybe they do now… the Industrial Revolution was a fascinating thing to witness, but far too much smoke to tell one factory from the next in the city centers. Even for one such as myself.”

Charles quirks a wry grin. “You surprise me, Seb. For a man of reason and organization, you should have nothing against the Industrial Revolution.”

Seb shrugs a shoulder. “Progress always comes with a cost. The ages teach us that, if nothing else. Exploration comes with rampant disease. Colonization comes with inherent subjugation. Industrialization comes with unjust squalor. And technology comes with mass destruction.”

Charles hums in quiet consideration. “Is that what you saw during the Great War?” He has heard about the terrors of trench warfare and gas bombs, but he has no basis for comparison. Hell, even as an immortal, he barely has a stomach for the current war.

“Yes.” Seb’s voice holds the heavy weight of unwanted memory as they round a corner onto a side street. “Mercifully, the horrors unleashed by that war are yet to be repeated on this battlefield.”

Charles heaves a sigh – not that he needs to breathe anymore, but it’s oddly habitual. “Do you suppose there’s any hope that mankind will ever stop inventing ways to kill one another?”

A wry smirk cracks Seb’s face as he glances over in this darkness. “You don’t really want my –”

A muffled groan and grunts in German slice through their conversation. Charles’ gaze snaps to the street ahead, senses on full alert as shadows take shape in his sharp vision. A man lies on the ground, feebly trying to curl into himself despite the cordon of soldiers kicking and beating him from all sides. It still doesn’t make sense to Charles that the Netherlands has remained a neutral nation in the war even after being invaded and suffering Nazi occupation.

Seb sighs sadly. “Have they no basic decency?”

“For someone out past curfew, that looks more merciful than an interrogation chamber.” Charles replies. Even though they only roam the streets and countryside at night, whispers of the Dutch Resistance surround them – a thin thread of hope that still manages to hold the country together.

“Well, we won’t let that happen, either.” Seb says as he turns a confirming glance on Charles. “Shall we?”

Charles nods in helpless agreement. “I am a little hungry.”

They move together, swift as shadows and just as silent, just as deadly. Bones snap, blood warms their bellies, and screams die before they can begin. It never takes them long, and this time is no exception. It comes easier to Charles now – acting with aggression against the aggressors – but it’s still not his natural inclination.

Licking the blood from his lips, he glances down at the young man still curled up on the ground. His breathing comes in ragged, uneven draws – his chest rattles, even. The smell of rich, hot, dark blood permeates the air even above the scents of the dead soldiers, and the young man’s face is bruised and bloodied to match his expression of agony.

“H-h-help...” The words are just barely audible and laden with great effort.

Seb sighs with regret. “We’re not able to save you.”

Bright blue eyes flash beneath swollen eyelids, full of pain and fear. “No-o… please. I –” The Dutchman’s voice chokes off on a gurgling cough and blood flows past his lips.

Charles’ heart breaks as he stares down at the dying man. “I was wrong. There’s nothing merciful about this.” He crouches down and gently cups the man’s strong jawline, stroking his thumb over an angry cut, trying to impart any comfort that he can. Beneath the injuries and blood, the man is undeniably handsome with a strong, sturdy build. Maybe that’s why he’s still alive now. He’s a fighter… and maybe… just maybe that’s why he risked being outside after curfew.

The Dutchman’s breathing turns faint and wheezing, and Charles knows the window is closing. “I want to help him.” He says, turning to glance up at Seb.

Seb’s brows furrow curiously. “You want to help him…? Help him as in…"

Unease pits in Charles’ gut. “Turn him. Like you turned me.”

“He’s practically a dead man – you can smell it.” Seb shakes his head. “Mortals die all the time… you’ve seen it before.”

“And I haven’t asked to save a single one of the countless many that I have witnessed. I’m just asking…” he trails off, glancing back down, unable to explain why he’s so drawn to this man. “I’m just asking about this one.”

“You are still so young -”

“And I’ve gotten better with my thrall, with my control – even my finesse. I’m learning to let go of my ‘mortal construct’ as you call it, and now I’m asking you – will you help me with this?”

Seb folds his arms across his chest in silent contemplation as the Dutchman’s weak breathing wheezes between them. “Where do you think this will go, Charles? If you turn him, then what?”

Charles’ lip curls in a frustrated sneer. “Did you ask yourself that question before you ambushed me in the woods? Tell me, where did you think it would go with me, hmm?” He fixes Seb with a hard stare. “Or was I really just too pretty for you to resist?”

A tense moment hangs in the air before Seb drops his arms to his side. “We’ll have to guide him – you’ll have to teach him.”

Relief sparks in Charles’ chest. “Yes… yes, I can do that. And I will.” He turns back to the Dutchman, trailing down to the slope of his neck. His pulse weakly flutters beneath Charles’ fingertips, and Charles hopes he’s not too late.

Seb kneels beside him, curling his hand over the back of Charles’ as they gently trace over the main artery together. “Just there,” Seb whispers as Charles leans down, inhaling the Dutchman’s scent deep into his lungs as his lips buss the tender skin.

Charles’ fangs pierce the skin, and a delicious coppery tang rushes over his tongue as Seb softly continues. “And, now… just listen for the heart to stop.”

Series Main List

Tag List: @fictional-l0v3r

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safetycar-restart · 4 months

Note

heyy . So I wanted to ask for an expansion on the teammate lestappen au (pls?) a continuation to what happened before?

Like we called Charles and talked to him and maybe persuaded him to leave Ferrari and then he accepts the idea and tells them that he's leaving but his dom and the team are so angry with him and then max hears some shouting from the Ferrari motorhome so he goes to see what's is going on and when he sees that charles is getting yelled at he protects him(?) And calls for us and maybe he also calls for christian since he's the team boss and can take care of charles contract(?)

And then it can be angst or soft vibes .

Tbh I just started rambling halfway so sorry if there's something not quite right or logical . And btw ur writing is amazing

YES YES ABSOLUTELY I CAN!!!!

Okay so for anyone who missed the initial ask, this is an offset of the D/S AU where you’re Max’s dominant and you and max convince Charles to leave Ferrari and his awful dominant and join redbull to be Max’s teammate and under your care as the team dominant. If you want to read the full ask just click on the first tag of this post.

So firstly it would obviously take a very long time for Charles to actually decide to leave Ferrari. Maybe it takes pretty much an entire season? And throughout that season, I think you’d start sneakily doing scenes with Charles? Like Charles will start sneaking into your hotel room and scening with you and max because his team Dom just isn’t giving him what he needs.

Max would have been vocal about Charles leaving Ferrari and coming to red bull for MONTHS before Charles actually makes the decision. For the longest time charles would just giggle and look away whenever max would say he should leave.

Maybe his breaking point is when Ferrari find out he’s being doing this? They tell him that they’ll add a clause into his contract for next season stating that he’s only allowed to scene with their team dominant and no one else. That’s what breaks him because he realises there’s no way he can get through the next season if he can’t scene with you and max.

He tells you and max the next day that he’s made his decision and he tells Christian right after that. Christian is, of course, absolutely delighted with this news and immediately telling Charles he’ll have the contract drafted promising him at least two seasons.

It takes him another two weeks before he finally musters up the courage to tell Ferrari that he won’t be resigning with them for the next season and uh… yeah it doesn’t go well.

He ends up with four men yelling at him in Italian and someone calls his team dominant and so now they’re also there yelling at him. He tries to explain that this is the best move for his career but they won’t listen.

Maybe his team dominant says you won’t even like him anymore? His team dom says that you only liked scening with him because it was a thrill but it won’t be like that when he’s actually assigned to you. And that just breaks Charles‘s little heart? Because he is leaving his team and his heart for you and max and the thought that maybe neither of you even love him just…. That coupled with everyone else yelling is far too much for him.

Luckily for him, he had told max he was telling Ferrari that day and so max had decided to hang around outside the Ferrari hospitality just in case Charles needed him. And when he heard shouting, he instantly ran in to see what was going on.

Max obviously couldn’t understand the Italian but he could understand that Charles was crying and all these people were yelling at him. Maybe max just grabs Charles and gets him out of there? He knows that no one in Ferrari is stupid enough to try and lay a hand on him so he’s pretty well protected and he also knows you’ll put the fear of god into all of them later when you find out what’s happened.

Max takes Charles right to his driver room, not caring who sees because Charles needs comfort. He texts you to get to his driver room immediately and as soon as you get there, you’re greeted by the sight of Charles sniffling against Max’s shoulder and realise pretty quickly that things clearly did not go well when he told Ferrari.

When you find out exactly what happened, you plan to let Christian know and then the two of you would make sure Ferrari knew their place and treated Charles well for the rest of the season. Charles, meanwhile, stays glued to Max’s side and trusts you to handle it all. He lets himself be comforted by his fellow submissive and soon to be teammate, and maybe that’s when he realises he has romantic feelings for max too? Cause he just… he feels so safe in Max’s arms.

Once you and Christian have dealt with Ferrari, you take your boys back to your hotel room for cuddles and reassurance and maybe a soft gentle scene to calm Charles down and make sure he knows he’s very very loved.

#lestappen teammate au #d/s au #sub!charles #sub!max #poly!charles/max #cl #mv #gn!reader

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verstappen-cult · 1 month

Note

Could you do a Lestappen one where Max and Charles see you wearing glasses for the first time, since you dont know where your contact lenses are

“What are you… wearing?”

You stop in the middle of the living room, looking back at Max who is already looking at you with an indecipherable expression on his face.

“What?” You look at your outfit, sweatpants and a top. Something you use to wear when you’re gonna be home all day, cozy and comfortable. “I always wear this around the house.”

“Not your clothes,” He turns his body to take a better look at you, his gaze fixed in something on your face. “that on your face.”

“Oh, my glasses!” You laugh, but your expression immediately changes when he keeps looking at you. “You don’t like them? I can’t find my contact lenses.”

“No, it’s just—” Max can’t seem to snap out of his head, blue eyes still looking at you.

“You like them.” You tease him, Max’s cheeks heat up immediately. He avoids looking at you now, turning around and going back to play on his phone.

You take the phone away from his hands and sit on his lap, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“You think I look sexy with them?”

Max opens his mouth, stuttering, as Charles appears from around the corner. “Sexy with what?”

When you look at him, Charles’ mouth falls open.

“Are you - what are - what?”

You giggle, hiding your face in Max’s neck.

“You’ve seen me wearing glasses before, what are you acting like this?”

“We’ve never seen you wearing glasses before,” Charles says, finally remembering how to talk and be a normal person. He walks over to the couch and sits next to Max. “You’re - you look good.”

Charles cheeks are flushed and, just like Max, can’t take his eyes off of you.

“These are just glasses,” You snort, suddenly feeling shy under their intense gazes. “you’re overreacting.”

“You’re pretty, you know that, right?” You open your mouth to talk but end up nodding instead. “But with glasses. God,” Charles groans, leaning closer. “I want to do so many things to you.”

Your heart skips a beat and your eyes glaze over, pupils expanding. You shudder when Max lifts a hand and touches the glasses ever so slightly, just feeling them under his fingers.

Charles puts his hand on the back of your head, tilting it back to have access to your neck. He leaves a kiss on your jaw, slowly moving down.

“We don’t have plans today, right?” Charles asks in a low voice that has you taking a sharp intake of breath.

Max catches your entranced look and a lopsided grin appears on his face. “We have now.”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 imagine #poly!f1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff

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adventuringblind · 10 months

Note

request idea: fake dating troop for max v xreader, they can’t stand each other maybe she supports Ferrari or smt but secretly admires his talent but he doesn’t know and is kinda of and ass to her and a lot of drama for them to get together idk, maybe there was an wedding and max needed a partner — I’m sorry of this is a lot but I would absolutely love to read something like this 💕

Media Relations

Max Verstappen x Leclerc reader

Genre: a mix of everything?

Summary: the Redbull and Ferrari PR teams think it would be great publicity if you and Max have a relationship. With the promise of your brother getting a better race engineer (and the hint of a crush already) you accept. Max does too, but he hates you for some reason.

Warnings: Max is a jerk, hints at lestappen if you really squint, jos verstappen, not edited

Notes: I felt maniacal writing this tbh.

Masterlist

“No. Absolutely not.”

You stand there watching Charles pace. You can’t tell if your older brother is mad at you or the situation. Maybe both?

“I already signed the contract and so had Max.”

“Why would you do this to yourself? I trust Max, but not like this.”

It had originally been intended for Charles to sign the contract. The teams thought this type of media would be good for them. Neither Max or Charles agreed to it. They don’t want to portray something there not where there are thousands who want to be themselves but can’t. It felt unethical and just generally wrong.

That’s where you come in. If they couldn’t do it with Charles, you’re the next best option.

The contract didn’t offer you anything, other then a possibly happier brother and he knew that. When you did your time, they’d have found him a new race engineer and some better strategists.

He knew you’d give up everything to help him get his dream. That’s why he’s frustrated, not with you, but himself.

“Do you know what Max is getting out of it?”

“He mumbled something about his father but that’s all I got.”

“Just don’t get attached, please, I’m begging you.”

“Don’t worry Charlie, I’ll be fine.”

It was a lie. You knew it was going to be difficult. Mostly because you’d already had a crush in him, it he despises you with a passion,

Regardless, you two walk hand in hand together through the paddock. The fake smiles you give each other gone as soon as your tucked away from the cameras.

“You can go out the back.”

Then he disappears, leaving you stranded in the Redbull hospitality.

Most of the weekend was like this. You had to carefully divide your time between your brother and fake lover. On the bright side, everyone was raving about it. You’d already grown used to toxic fans since you’d been around racing with your brothers your entire life.

You and Max got together a few times a month to stage Instagram photos and go on fake dates.

You were somehow falling for him while he seemed to have a growing dislike for you.

Tonight, you are having dinner in Monaco. Your attempts at starting a conversation are nothing short of pointless.

"Can I ask you a question?" He grunts and doesn't look at you. So you ask anyway. "What was on your contract?"

"Why do you need to know?" Stone cold eyes pierce right through you body.

"I was just wondering. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want."

"I'd rather not talk with you about anything?"

Letting the embarrassment take over, you shift your gaze downwards. You knew what was on the contract. It was all about Jos.

Max was willing to do anything neccecary to please his father. Including getting his father into a higher position of power within the team.

Jos had been messaging you throughout the week with reminders that you're just another step for his son's success. This led to multiple arguments with the older Verstappen because you're not one to back down when defending those you care about. The slander had turned more aggressive recently, and you wanted to talk to Max about it. Too bad he hates you.

"Charlie, I don't think I can do this." You sob to your brother over the phone. "Jos is refusing to leave me alone, and Max hardly spares a glance in my direction if he doesn't have to."

"You can always break things off. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“No, this will help make your dream come true. It just doesn’t help that I was crushing on Max before we started this.”

Charles sighs heavily. “Chéri, If it comes down to it and Jos doesn’t stop then I will have words with Max.”

“Thank you, Charlie.”

It was nice having a brother that you could rely on. Lorenzo is the oldest and cares, but he has his own family, and Arthur is the youngest, so he had a tendency to steal attention.

With you and Charles both being middle kids, you two stuck together. He was your protective big brother then, and he still is now.

The next morning, you wake up to a shock. The sound of your ring tone echoing through the room.

You lazy grab it off the nightstand and look at the caller ID.

"Max?"

"I'm going to a wedding and need a plus one." He says matter of factly.

"Okay?"

"Come with me? Please? I'd rather go with you than show up alone." The sincerity in his voice sends your head into a mess of thoughts. This stupid Dutch makes no sense!

"Yeah, sure, okay."

"Great, I'll come puck you up tomorrow before noon."

"Wait, Max!" You definitely didn't mean to shout but maybe this is your opportunity to figure this whole thing out.

"Yes?"

"Why do you hate me so much?" Your voice gets quiet again as the anxiety takes over. "I just thank that if I know why then maybe I can change it."

You can hear Max's breath hitch. "It's nit that I hate you. I actually really like you." He sighs out finally. His words don't register in your brain. "I just hate the reason why we're doing this. I didn't want to get my feelings involved"

"I like you too." You say without thinking.

"Really? I thought you were just doing this for whatever is on your contract?"

"I was... but I've liked a certain Dutch with pretty blue eyes and a winners smile for a few years now."

"So what was the contract for then?"

You wonder if you should tell him. Wonder about Jos and how he might have your head later for distracting his son. But you don't care. "A better team for my brother."

"Well, that's selfless of you."

"And you? What is your contract for?" You ask, turning the subject away from yourself.

"My father wants more say in the team."

"Do you want him to have more say?"

There's a pause, and you can hear Max's mind working from the other end of the phone. "Not necessarily."

"Then why do this? Even if you liked me before why take this on?"

"Because my father wants it and I want to please him." You can hear his voice start to break. It hurts to hear him like this. "It's not a big deal though, I'll survive." He downplays. Something she's grown used to with Charles.

"We should probably get some sleep." He follows up with after your lack of response. Your thoughts still moving miles a minute.

"Yes, sorry, your right. I'll see you tomorrow Max."

"See you tommorow."

Just as he says, Max shows up right before noon hits. Knocking of your door in a nice suit.

"Wow." Is what you greet with and your face flush with embarrassment.

"Ditto."

The car ride is too short for your liking. The two of you catch up on life and simply enjoy eachothers company.

The wedding is more of the same. You are tailing Max while he talks to those he knows. It's weird seeing him genuinely smile at you. Finally, he feels like he can let himself give into his heart.

It's sunset now, and you and Max are on a balcony enjoying the view. Secluded from the rest of the guests.

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Thanks for inviting me." You turn your gaze upwards at him. The sun illuminates his skin with a warm glow.

His eyes flick nervously between your eyes and your mouth. He wants to do it but can't get the courage. The intimacy of this is far to much for him.

So you do it instead, and he lets himself relax in the hold of your lips.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do that."

Max and you weren't pretending anymore, and both teams could see it. Which is why you sit in a cramped conference room with your pr teams and team principles.

You feel out of place since you're not a driver. You don't belong here.

"Your contracts are null now."

"I'm sorry, what?" Your taken aback. How had you violated your contract?

"You two are actually dating now, so the contrat no longer works. We wanted to stage a breakup at the end of it, but we can't do that now."

Max is avoiding the gaze of Jos and plays with your fingers for comfort. His mind boggled with how that has turned from great to shit and five minutes.

After sitting through what the contract being void now entails, you and Max find a quiet spot to talk things out.

"I wanted to help Charlie so bad. Worse is that I don't remember that being in the original contract."

"I think something is definitely wrong here. I may not have liked my end of the deal, but yours was for good reason."

You tear up over thoughts of having to endure another season of Charles getting frustrated with his team after every race.

Max holds you close and wipes your tears away. "Whatever happens we'll figure this out, we're in this together now remeber?"

His words bring a warm feeling to your body. You and Max are a team now even without the contracts. Somehow, that Max you feel even more connected to him.

Part Two? 👀

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f0point5 · 4 months

Note

going through my saved reels on Insta, and it made me think that we didn't talk enough about the shift between Max and Charles.

at the beginning of the year there still was some tension between them. they didn't talk much, were more cold towards each other... maybe it was the fact that the championship was still in fight. but then summer break came, and it was like you turn a switch. suddenly, so much Lerstappen content EVERYWHERE, the atmosphere between them changed completely. their times at press conferences? during driver parades? shared padel match? shared interview? Max calling Charles "Charlie"? the overall shift of vibes between them? they actually look they like the presence of each other now! like, I really wanna know what happened between them, what changed that atmosphere so suddenly.

and don't let me even start about the RB x Ferrari sticker war. because that. took. the. cake.

-🦥

I love a chat…but I may not be the person to talk about this with because I just never got picked up by the lestappen hype train I’m not going to lie 🫣🫣🫣 (please don’t hate me 🥺)

If I’m being honest, I think what happened is marketing picked up “Lestappen” and ran with it. For whatever reason, in the second half of the year Charles has been doing a lot more work on branding himself away from Ferrari (I got theories but obviously we don’t know why). The intensity of his racing persona has dropped a bit, I think, which coincides with his less “rival” attitude with Max. Also, his increased visibility around another top team probably didn’t hurt his bargaining position for contract negotiations. Also, Max could always do with looking a bit less like the Darth Vader of F1…it’s been undeniably helpful to see him publicly having a good rapport with Charles.

(Plus, wasn’t Max wearing a pair of shoes from Charles’s brand in one of his holiday pictures? You can’t tell me Charles just randomly gave them to him?)

On vibes, I’ve always said, I think Max just copies other people’s vibes most of the time. Like in the cool down room he always waits to see if the other person will talk to him and how open they want to be before he follows suit. I think he was probably always open to being more friendly with Charles but it was Charles that was a bit more reserved with him so he just matched the energy. Now that Charles has more rapport with him he’s happy to build on it. Just my take.

Imo the sticker war was probably a fun thing that started between the engineers and when it blew up on social media there were so many comments wanting Max and Charles involved.

I might be cynical but I think the shift was well timed

Maybe I’m just crazy because SO many people see chemistry between Max and Charles and I just never have. Clearly they get along, but I think racing and a competitive mentality is the only thing they have in common, and I think they know it. To me they’re friendly, but definitely not friends.

I agree with you though I would die to know what the general shift was really about, if it was collusion etc 😂 I would die to know how Max got the shoes (if indeed those were Clace shoes). I would die to know what Charles’s PR strategy has been all about lately.

Basically I’m nosey as hell

#max verstappen #f1 #formula 1 #Charles leclerc

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cupidskissx · 11 months

Note

PROMPT!

“I swear I’m over you, but if you ever do shit like that again, you’re going to set me back to square one.”

with lestappen. duh. 😇

The spin off to @xiaoluclair’s original Spy AU that I finally got a chance to edit to fit this prompt! 🥰🥷

~ 1.3k

“I was making croissants, do you realise how much effort goes into that?” Charles shakes his head, “You pick the worst times to pull this shit,” he tsks as he struggles to unties the thick knots.

Max’s arms are twisted behind his back, linked around a pipe, his wrists bound together. His torso is also tied to the pipe keeping him propped upright. His captors must have learnt from their precious mistake because Max’s ankles are quadruple knotted to the pipe opposite him. Charles’ eyes flick up to the staircase every so often as he works to loosen the first knot that ties his knees together.

“I would have figured out a way to escape.”

“Yeah right, that’s why you doubled texted...”

“I didn’t think you’d see them.”

Max had sent the messages to Charles via their old voice-to-text software embedded into an advanced AI application. The one they used to use to send encrypted sexts to each other when they were dating and posted long distance.

Charles should have turned off his notifications, or better yet, deleted the app months ago, but now’s not the time to think about why he hasn’t, so he just says, “You’re an idiot!”

“You’re not too bright yourself, coming here alone,” Max scolds, “You should have called for backup.”

“They’d only get in the way and make this harder than it already is, stop moving, would you?”

“It fucking tickles, mate,” Max grumbles as Charles keeps accidentally tickling the backs of his knees.

“Oh no,” Max’s genuine dismay causes Charles to look up. Max’s face has contorted into something anguished.

“What? What is it?” Charles asks, checking him over, then looking towards the staircase. They’re still alone in the dank cellar.

“That buzzing noise, it’s the 10 second warning before they blare the most horrific alarm.”

Max isn’t one to exaggerate, he says it how it is and that’s it. Therefore, Charles believes him that this is no small thing. “It’s gone off at least 15 times. Trust me, block your ears.”

Charles shuffles up towards the pipe, pressing his knees into the side of his hip as he leans in.

“What are you d—”

Max falls quiet when Charles cups his ears just in time before that alarm sounds. He can only imagine it’s similar to standing directly under an air raid siren, he flinches, eyes squinting at the intensity of it.

Max tries to pull away, saying something that Charles can’t hear.

“Stop that!” Charles yells, even he can’t hear it.

Max shrugs violently, trying to free himself from Charles’ hands.

“I said stop,” Charles says in earnest and Max gives him an imploring look like he wants Charles to cover his own ears, and that sets those stupid butterflies off. They quickly migrate to be replaced by frustration when Max tries, yet again, to free himself.

Charles resorts to the one thing that he knows will stun him. He leans all the way in, keeping his ears blocked as he kisses him.

That does the trick, Max goes stiff as a board, Charles tries not to smile, adding more pressure for added effect. He isn’t overly surprised when Max kisses him back, but he didn’t expect it to be so hungry! Max kisses like he’s been starved, and it makes Charles’ stomach churn with want and guilt and forgiveness. Why the fuck did they give up on this?

It takes them both a moment to realise the siren has stopped. Max is the first to pull away, cheeks a touch pink. He clears his throat and can’t quite meet Charles’ eye. Charles moves his hands down to his shoulders.

“For the record?” Charles’ voice is distant through the ringing in his ears.

Max takes a breath before meeting his eye.

“I am over you.”

Max snorts, “I can’t say I believe that anymore.”

“But—“ Charles continues, “if you keep pulling shit like this,” he gestures in a sweeping motion up and down his body, “You’re going to give me a hero complex and set me back to square one.”

Max is silent for a long moment.

“Square one is pretty cozy,” Max’s expression is blasé but the way his Adam’s apple bobs gives away his trepidation.

Charles, try as he might, he is unable to prevent his eyebrows from twitching up and his lips from parting. It takes a beat too long to finds his voice, “Is it now?”

“Yeah, it is. You should come over tomorrow night, to talk and stuff.”

Charles was not expecting Max to pivot so sharply, like usual he’s compelled to fight and catch up. “And stuff?”

“And stuff,” Max emphasises, his desire unbridled for the first time in months.

“I’m a very busy man, I might get called out to save another inept colleague.”

“Do you go around kissing the rest of the team as part of a rescue mission?”

“Only the ones I know will kiss me back,” Charles teases.

“You realise the whole team has thought about making out with you a least once, yeah?” Max laughs.

“Fine, the only one I want to kiss me back, then. Better?” The words are out of his mouth before he realises. There’s no point taking them back now.

“Eh, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” Charles leans in again, slowly this time.

“Don’t push your luck, mister,” Max tilts his head, “Untie me first then maybe I’ll consider slipping my tongue into your mouth as a little thank you.”

Charles rolls his eyes, “Now you’ve gone and made it gross,” Charles huffs, and because he loves to test the limits he glides his hands down his arms, moving into him until their chests are practically flush, his fingers finding the knots binding his wrists together. Charles can’t see anything but the pipe at this angle so he closes his eyes and rests his face against the side of Max’s head.

Max has gone very quiet while Charles diligently unties him.

“Everything okay?” Charles mocks him like his own heart isn’t pounding in his chest.

“Yeah,” Max whispers. “You’re making this very difficult, is all.”

“Good,” Charles whispers.

“Charles,” Max is stern, like he means it, bringing home the fact they have a lot they need to talk about, and this is not something they should joke about.

“I know, sorry,” Charles presses his face a bit more against Max’s head in apology.

Charles manages to free Max’s hands, he helps to bring his arms back around without twinging any of his muscles. Charles rubs his red raw wrists for a moment before looping his arms back around him to untie his torso.

Max ends up circling his arms around Charles’ waist, holding him closer, and if that doesn’t set his skin on fire nothing else will.

He fumbles over the knots a few times. “There,” he says eventually, triumphant as the rope loosens. “Now you can finish untying your knees and I’ll work on this,” Charles goes to shuffle over to where his ankles are tied to the other pipe but he doesn’t get very far. He’s pulled into a toe curling kiss that Max is pouring a hell of a lot of effort and gratitude into.

“Okay, okay,” Charles taps his shoulder, and Max lets up, “Don’t wear yourself out. Plenty of time for that later,” Charles promises, pressing a swift kiss to his lips and moving down to free him.

#lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #prompts by L #I took liberties with the exact wording #close enough x #Spy AU #for my wife 💍#🥐#we all know Max can’t cope with loud noises #protect those ears baby #🙉#prompt #L’s little things #Writing and Rambles

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laura1633 · 1 year

Text

A million times over

Just a little fluffy Lestappen fic

Max blinks a few times as he tries to open his eyes. The room is bright, too bright really. As he squints he can just about make out that he’s in bed but everything is hazy around the edges.

‘Where am I?” The Dutchman mumbles groggily, his voice so gravely it takes him by surprise and he jumps a little before realising that it is definitely coming from his lips.

“Here we go Mr Verstappen, if you just want to take a few sips of water”

“Water. Wa-t-er. Wat-er” Max laughs to himself, he has no idea why though, it’s just the word water, it sounds funny somehow, he tries it out a few times fascinated by how it sounds in his mouth.

“Yes water, just a little bit for me”

Max hums his agreement but as he tries to lift his arm to take the cup his hand feels too heavy to move, it just sits there all limp and useless. He stares down at it suspiciously before trying to encourage it to do something, “Move. Stupid hand. My hand is not listening to me. Hellooo? Hand?”

The Dutchman sighs and gives up before unceremoniously face planting the cup of water as he brings his head down to meet it. There’s the faint sound of laughter ringing out but he doesn’t have time to look, he’s too busy lapping the water from the cup with his tongue. It’s messy but it’s worth the effort as he swallows it down and feels it easing the dryness in his mouth.

“You are in the hospital. You’ve just had an operation” whoever is stood in front of him is talking so slowly they seem to be in slow motion.

“Are you sure he’s okay?” Charles looks across to the nurse a little concerned as Max starts giggling to himself.

“He’ll be fine, it’s just the anaesthesia wearing off, it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll leave you two alone and I’ll come check on him in a bit” the nurse gives a reassuring smile before she wonders off.

“Bye bye, thank you” Max manages to get his hand to start working and waves exaggeratedly in the direction the nurse has just disappeared off to pretty pleased with himself that he has somehow convinced his limbs to start doing as they are told.

“Max how do you feel?”

There’s another voice in the room, a sexy voice. Max listens out for it again trying to work out where it is coming from.

“Max, are you okay?”

The voice is back but this time the Dutchman manages to locate it As he turns to his right and sees who the voice belongs to his heart flutters. Stood next to him is the single most beautiful man he has ever seen. He feels his face heating up, his cheeks blooming red as he tries to say something. The stranger is all toned and muscular but he has cute little dimples and pretty eyes. Really, really pretty eyes.

“Oh wow, you are so pretty. Are you a doctor? ”

Max can’t tear his gaze away from the person stood next to him. The stranger takes his hand in his and holds it gently. The Dutchman tries not to get too excited but he’s sure his palms are sweating. He’s still pretty dazed, the rest of the room feels out of focus but he tries to pull himself together so he at least looks presentable.

“Max” Charles chuckles to himself as he squeezes Max's hand.

“Can you date patients? I bet you are popular” Max slurs, it’s not exactly the smooth chat up line he was planning but his tongue is so heavy in his mouth he can hardly get any words out. He doesn’t want to miss this opportunity though.

“I’m not a doctor..”

“You could be, you’ve already made me feel better” Max smiles to himself a little more pleased with this attempt at a pick up line.

“I’m married”

Max’s heart sinks in an instant, of course he is married, men that attractive don’t stay single for long, The Dutchman tries not to scowl but he bets the handsome guy's husband is also attractive, he’s probably rich too and successful. Just some attractive, successful, rich idiot, he hates him, “Do you like him?”

“Yeah he’s pretty great” the man laughs again, “Max it’s me, Charles and I’m married to you. You are my husband.”

Max’s eyes widen as he tries to make sense of what Charles is saying to him. He looks down to his left hand and there is a ring on there. He brings his hand closer to his face to try and inspect it but goes too far and smacks himself in the eye, “Ow. My hand hurt me”

“Max let’s just give the hands a rest yes?” Charles takes both of Max’s hands and rests them by his side before he can do anymore damage.

“Are we really married?” Max hums happily, he shouldn’t really question it too much incase it’s all a practical joke, if it is he just wants to stay in this imaginary bubble a little longer. A nice little bubble where he has the most beautiful husband in the world.

“Yes we are married”

“Wow lucky me” Max mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed a little before opening again, “Do we kiss?”

“Yes we do a lot more than kissing” Charles grins.

“Can we do it now?” Max blurts out and then giggles childishly, “I mean the kissing not the naughty stuff”

Charles leans in and presses his lips up against Max’s delicately, he never has and probably never will refuse Max a kiss, “We’ll save the naughty stuff for when we get home I think”

“Home. Home. We have a home?”

“Yes a beautiful home”

“Why are we here then?” Max grumbles, this place looks cold and lifeless, he wants to be in whatever home he has. He wants to be all snuggled up in bed. God he can just imagine how Charles feels pressed up against his body, he’s probably all warm and cuddly.

“You’ve just an operation Max. You had to get your appendix removed. You’re fine though, we’ll be home soon”

“Okay” Max murmurs, Charles seems to know what he’s talking about so he trusts he’s doing what is best.

“I’m going to look after you when we get back, I’ll make sure you get lots of rest”

“That’s good. We are definitely married?”

“Yes Max we are definitely happily married”

“This is the greatest day ever” Max smiles and rests his eyes but not before grabbing Charles’ hand. Charles seems like the perfect husband and he doesn’t want him going anywhere, “And we are in love?”

“Yes we are in love”

“That is good” Max’s eyes are still closed but he nods his head, “It is good to be in love. I love you Charles”

“I love you to Max, now try and get some rest for me. ” Charles smiles to himself as Max drifts back off to sleep.

When the Dutchman finally wakes an hour later with a blinding headache but feeling far less confused Charles delights in telling him all about how he tried to seduce him all over again.

Max groans knowing Charles isn’t going to let him live this down for a while but as he looks across at his husband he doesn’t care, he’d happily seduce Charles a million times over, his husband is worth it.

#lestappen fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #f1 fanfic #lestappen

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xiaoluclair · 1 year

Note

4/5/6

4. nose kisses

5. jawline kisses

6. eyelid kisses // lestappen // rating: G

FORMULA 1 ETIHAD AIRWAYS ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX 2027 ↳ COMMENTATORS’ BOX TRANSCRIPT

19:01 [David CROFTY, with crescendo] And Liam Lawson brings it home to win the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix in brilliant succession, and brilliant it certainly was but we can’t focus for long right now because the man about to be second place, he’s been called many things in his lifetime: Il Predestinato, The Curse Breaker, Ferrari’s Salvation, and now after this night he can finally etch one more onto that list—

SCUDERIA FERRARI PIT WALL | DRIVER RADIO ↳ C. LECLERC

18:59 [Max VERSTAPPEN] CHARLES LECLE

18:59 [Charles LECLERC] AHHHHHHHHHHHH

18:59 [VERSTAPPEN] YOU ****ING DID IT YOU ****ING WENT AND D

18:59 [LECLERC] OH MY ****ING GOD AHHHHHHHHHHHH OH MY

19:00 [VERSTAPPEN] CHARLES LECLERC YOU ARE OFFICIALLY THE TWO THOUSAND AND TWENTY SEVEN WORLD CHAMPION!

19:00 [LECLERC] **** LET'S ****ING GOOO BABY!

19:00 [VERSTAPPEN] Ahaha, let's go baby indeed!

19:00 [LECLERC] Are you crying?

19:00 [VERSTAPPEN] My eyes are just a little bit sweaty, mate.

19:00 [LECLERC] Mine too.

START—FINISH STRAIGHT | POST RACE CELEBRATIONS ↳ VISUAL TRANSCRIPT

19:06 [Liam LAWSON parks in P1 and pulls himself out of the RB23. He stands on the front of the car and yells in delight.]

19:06 [Charles LECLERC pulls carefully into the P2 position, knocking over the P2 BOARD.]

19:06 [LAWSON jumps down from his car and runs to his team. The RED BULL RACING crew catch him like quicksand.]

19:06 [Oscar PIASTRI takes the final P3 spot, smoke trailing after his wheels.]

19:06 [Much like LAWSON, LECLERC balances himself on top of the SF-27 and pumps his fists into the air over and over again. He leaps onto the ground and sprints right for the SCUDERIA FERRARI crew, who are akin to a pack of screaming animals.]

19:07 [PIASTRI descends from his car in slightly a calmer manner. Still, he also seems to have forgotten the concept of walking. Before he can reach the RED BULL RACING crew, LAWSON catches him around the abdomen and pulls him into a hug. Their helmets knock together a little and the embrace is reciprocated quickly.]

19:07 [LECLERC, now pulled away from the arms of his team, is standing on his tip-toes. He appears to be searching for someone. He leans into a SCUDERIA FERRARI crew member and, after a few moments, they shout a reply, pointing in the direction of the garages. LECLERC starts to move, seemingly to where the crew member showed, but is pulled back by the same crew member. Rapid conversation is shared between them.]

19:08 [PIASTRI, LAWSON and LECLERC all congratulate each other before documenting their weight in quick succession, as per the FiA's Sporting Regulation 29.1 (a)(ii).]

19:08 [PIASTRI is quick to chug down half a bottle of water. He wears a tired expression that smiles readily at LAWSON's grin. LAWSON puts an arm around PIASTRI's shoulders. The two lean against each other as they share words.]

FORMULA 1 ETIHAD AIRWAYS ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX 2027 ↳ POST RACE INTERVIEWS | HOSTED BY Sebastian VETTEL

19:15 [Sebastian VETTEL, smiling] Charles.

19:15 [Charles LECLERC, grinning] Sebastian.

19:15 [VETTEL] How are you feeling right now?

19:15 [LECLERC, glancing to the side] You just asked me that five minutes ago before this interview, my answer has not changed. I am very, very, very happy, I. There are no words. No words.

19:15 [VETTEL] That could be a problem considering this interview has to last at least two minutes.

19:15 [LECLERC, glancing to the side again] I am very sorry.

19:15 [VETTEL, grinning] Tell everyone else how you're feeling then. It's your very first World Championship, there's got to be a lot of emotions rattling around inside.

19:16 [LECLERC] Oh absolutely. I am. I mean, first I would like to say well done to Liam because he was absolutely amazing this race, and it is a shame we could not battle because of the penalty. But right now, right now I am unbelievably happy right now, I cannot even say it. I am shaking, I think, my hands feel so light and I will probably crash into bed completely later but for now it is. Unbelievable.

19:16 [VETTEL, teasing] No gratuitous 'thank you's?

19:16 [LECLERC] Sorry?

19:16 [VETTEL, grinning] People you want to thank. Any past teammates maybe?

19:17 [LECLERC, laughing] Oh! I mean of course, Marcus taught me a lot so yes I would like to thank him. [laughs again, seemingly at the look on VETTEL's face.] Of course I would also like to thank you, Seb. And I am actually very happy it is you interviewing me here when you were— oh my God, sorry.

19:17 [LECLERC, suddenly sprinting almost too fast for the camera to follow] Where the fuck were you?!

19:17 [Max VERSTAPPEN, catching LECLERC in his arms] Paul dropped a coffee all over me, mate, it was

19:17 [VETTEL, amused] Seemed a bit half-hearted, but I'll take it.

19:17 [LECLERC, against VERSTAPPEN's jaw] God-damnit, Paul.

19:18 [VERSTAPPEN, grinning] Keep it PG, Leclerc.

19:18 [LECLERC, pressing his smile into kisses all over VERSTAPPEN's face] I love [Mia DJACIC takes the microphone easily from his hand] *Unintelligible*.

FORMULA 1 ETIHAD AIRWAYS ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX 2027 ↳ COMMENTATORS’ BOX TRANSCRIPT

19:18 [David CROFTY] Oh, and a little one on the nose to round it off. Do you think that's why Xavi left?

19:18 [Martin BRUNDLE, dryly] On the contrary, I'm pretty sure that's why anyone would stay.

#xiao: writes #ficlet: mv1.cl16 #lol i have No Idea what im doing lmao #other than absolutely Butchering these prompts teehee #angel emoji #f1 rpf #lestappen #anyway! as per this weekend's events #@ xavi YOU'RE FIRED #:)#i think this is probably an alternate reality #ANYWAY

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