WE COULD HAVE A GOOD TIME ; JB22

Formula One Main Masterlist

One Shots Masterlist Stand alone fics

MiniSeries Masterlist Multi part stories under 20k word count

Series Masterlist Multi part stories over 20k word count

Masterlist FORMULA 1🏁

By maretinelli

Female reader

LEWIS HAMILTON

I CAN'T LOSE YOU: They have known each other for years, they work at Mercedes and are best friends. But only time will tell how they feel about each other.

I CAN'T LOSE YOU²

I CAN'T LOSE YOU³

BORTOLETO-HAMILTON: With her younger brother and husband racing together in Formula 1, Y/n's nerves are doubled when they're both on the track.

NEWS BETWEEN SISTERS: When George and Carmen arrange a dinner to give the good news to their in-laws, but Y/n also had good news to give to her sister.

NOT US, THEM: When Lewis finds a pregnancy test in the bathroom and thinks his bride is pregnant, but the story is not exactly like that.

SWEET NIGHT: When the little Hamilton family has a fun night out with their little girl and Roscoe.

OUR SWEET LITTLE, NINA: When Lewis's one-year-old daughter first appears in the paddock to watch her father race.

SINCE ALWAYS: Lewis and Y/n were like they were attached at the hip. Ever since they were kids, the two of them were there for each other, supporting, caring, and celebrating. But the truth was that they had been in love with each other since they were teenagers, and Lewis's invitation for her to be his fake girlfriend at a wedding made their feelings come to light.

ANYONE AGAINST THIS MARRIAGE: Lewis and his chief engineer, Y/n, shared a forbidden romance that was cut short to protect their careers. Years later, Y/n stands at the altar, about to marry another man, when Lewis makes a shocking decision: he resigns from Mercedes and does the unthinkable to win back the love of his life.

OSCAR PIASTRI

FATAL ACCIDENT: When Oscar goes to watch Y/n's last race, the last thing he would imagine was that his girlfriend's car would start to roll over in the last laps.

CATS: When she could, Y/n always attended the races with her boyfriend. However, the last time she found a box of surprises in the Paddock, and as a veterinarian, she had to take them home.

ANESTHESIATED BY LOVE: Oscar takes time off work to accompany his,girlfriend to the dentist to have her wisdom teeth removed, and when she is anesthetized, she begins to go crazy with love.

TEARS OF A SAD PAST: When Y/n finds old photos of her in her father's house, all the emotions come flooding back when she remembers how hard it was for them to survive back then. Telling all the sad stories, now to her husband, Oscar.

A GREAT MOTHER TO BE: Y/n Piastri has a pediatric dentist office and this leads to many fun conversations with the children. Oscar overhears one of the genuine conversations and is sure that she will be a great mother in a few months

TURNS FROM THE PAST: Y/n and Oscar Piastri were once young lovers, but the pressure of racing and the distance between them tore them apart. Years later, they meet again when Y/n is hired as a Mechanical Engineering Assistant for McLaren. The tension between what once was and what is now puts them both to the test, as past feelings begin to resurface.

OLLIE BEARMAN

CHRISTMAS SURPRISE: When Y/n thinks her boyfriend won't be able to catch a flight to spend Christmas with her and her family, but Ollie and the girl's brothers already had a plan.

CAPTAIN HEART: When Formula 1 rookie, Ollie Bearman, becomes enchanted by an incredibly talented handball player.

CYCLING AROUND LONDON: When Ollie wants to ride a bike in the park with,his girlfriend, but she doesn't know how to ride a bike, this makes Ollie the first person to change that.

BLIND DATE: Y/n and Ollie have mutual friends but never met. Tired of their constant missed chances, the group decides to organize a blind date to finally bring them together. Reluctantly, they agree to the idea, but by the end of the date, they realize exactly why their friends were so eager to match them.

SECRET FOR ONE YEAR: When Ollie and Y/n have been dating for almost one year, the only person who doesn't know yet is George. Y/n's older brother.

LANDO NORRIS

YOUR LOVE HURTS: Years of friendship bind Y/N and Lando, but also prevent them from confessing the love they feel. He tries to escape his feelings by getting involved with other women, while she finds herself in frustrating dates that were secretly sabotaged by her best friend. However, some secrets cannot be hidden forever.

SWEET DISASTERS: All the times Y/n was so clumsy and got genuine laughs out of her boyfriend.

THIS IS LOVE: When Oscar's twin sister shares a feeling with Lando beyond friendship, the first to notice is the girl's own brother. And then, he and Lily help bring the two together.

DANIEL RICCIARDO

I AM HERE: When Y/n goes through a traumatic moment at work, Daniel is the one who is there to make her feel good again.

OUR GIRLS: When Daniel is off work and decides to take care of his three girls while Y/n goes to work, but when she gets home at night she has a sweet surprise.

WICKED GAME: Where Y/n has had a genuine desire since her teenage years. And her husband, Daniel, ends up fulfilling it without knowing it.

F1 Masterlist

Charles Leclerc

Gala’s

Reuniting with your lover

Inside motorhomes and relationships

Movie Night

Greed

Childhood sweethearts

Monegasque Sunsets

Breakfast

The Concert

Stupid french boys

My World Champion

The best greeting

Suzuka

Birthday Boy

All night

Friends-to-lovers

Charles with an emo

A writer and formula one driver masterlist 

A writer and formula one driver

No peaking

Meeting the family

Meeting the other drivers

Writer’s Block

To Charles, my one true love

Dozing in the Summer Sun

Haircuts and Fans

George Russell

Flirting

Exercise

Healthy Seduction

Mastermind

Of Birthday Boys and Car Launches

Lando Norris

Smile

Wingman Roscoe Part 2

Are you in love with me?

Tickle monster

Baby!

Couples that stream together stay together

Lewis Hamilton

Lazy mornings

Miami

Fighting and making up

Love songs

Premiere

Knight in a black race suit

Mick Schumacher

Jealousy jealousy

First points and good luck charms

I love you. How could I not?

Set up

The Three times Gina nearly catches you. And the time you come clean

Of Red Cheeks and Red Race Suits

Pierre Gasly

Dancing

Monza

Barbecue

Labour

I had a dream

Awkward first encounters Pt2

Drunken confessions

Braid’s

Puppy!

The big question and the big day

Baby Fever

Fighting

Once burned, Twice shy Pt2

Pierre’s Baby Fever

A Conversation on Children

F1 dinner

Baby Masterlist

Deciding to have a baby

The positive pregnancy test

The Ultrasound

Buying the First Thing for Baby

Morning Sickness

First Pregnancy Craving

Going to a race pregnant but no one knows

Hearing the baby heartbeat

Telling your friends You’re Pregnant

Baby Bump

Talking to the baby bump

Feeling the Baby Move

Telling the world

Going to a race pregnant but everybody knows

Scared to Give Birth

Going into labour

Announcing the birth

Newborn

The Breastfeeding Incident

Baby food

Little one’s first grand prix

Small one meet little one

Going to the beach (most recent addition 24/08/20)

Holiday Together

First word

First Birthday

First Steps

Second Child

Telling Uncle Charles

Overwhelmed

#charlesleclercfic

♡ Is It Casual Now? | CL16

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

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Summary: Y/n meets Charles at a party, and what starts as a casual fling quickly becomes something more. As their connection deepens and feelings grow, Y/n begins to question— is it really casual? [Inspired by Casual by Chappell Roan]

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PART 1: Are You Always This Forward?

PART 2: Good Luck Charm

PART 3: My Favourite Person

PART 4: Puppy Love

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xoxo, gossip girl

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: you kind of popped into lando's life out of nowhere-and he loves it. but there's no such thing as being private when you're dating a formula one driver. sorry, did i say dating? i mean when you're friends.

a/n: yay first smau of the year and the second driver i'm writing for! i started watching gossip girl recently n i was inspired

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liked by alex_albon and 128,407 others

f1gossipofficial: mclaren's lando norris was spotted out and about in the big apple last night with a mystery girl!

view all 6,353 comments

user1: uh oh magui's going to be mad...

user2: ngl thought that was her at first user3: they got back together AGAIN?? user1: @/user3 someone posted a vid of them partying

user4: alex being messy in the likes LMAOOO

user5: aww did he give her his hoodie in p1

user6: such a gentleman 😍 user7: THATS WHAT I THOUGHT user8: girl be fr he's nothing compared to osc

user9: lando stick to one girl at a time will you

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

hannahstjohn: i bet you're glad i convinced you to get dinner w me that day 👅

yourinstagram: oh shush i had to sit through two hours of you and liam gazing into each other's eyes. DISGUSTING. hannahstjohn: please. don't act like you even looked at anyone other than him

yourbff: regular dates now i see...

yourinstagram: we're just friends!!

lando: i learned for you 🥺

yourinstagram: liar lando: hello?? yourinstagram: you literally told me the other day you used to do your sister's hair lando: maybe i lied yourinstagram: well you definitely did at some point

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liked by hannahstjohn and 203,991 others

f1gossipofficial: we think it's getting serious with y/n l/n, daughter of NYC-based tech mogul y/d/n l/n, and lando norris. rumor has it that they met through liam lawson and his girlfriend hannah. despite the newly promoted red bull driver lacking friends across the grid, norris is probably grateful for the introduction 😉

y/n and lando were spotted at not one, not two, but SIX different locations across new york in the past week. above is a compilation of photos fans have taken of them dining out, shopping, and even going to the opera together.

view all 10,274 comments

user1: grocery shopping?? do they live together already??

user2: sleazy af if they do user3: maybe they wanted to cook something together its not that deep

user4: what a golddigger...

user5: how is she a gold digger user4: @/user5 did you not see how she dressed for the opera? probably his money she spent on that dress user6: the way people r so illiterate and yet so confident drive me crazy IT LITERALLY SAYS HER DAD IS A TECH MOGUL user7: i don't even know what a mogul is but it sounds rich user8: @/user6 right and if you just googled her dad you'd figure his sister was the one owns the brand she's wearing 💀

user9: the way he looks at her in p1 though

user10: wonder how long they've known each other 🤔

user11: hannah we see you

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lando has added to their stories

replies:

user1: LANDO DID YOU POST ON THE WRONG ACC

oscarpiastri: mate

lando: 🥺 yes osc? oscarpiastri: lily says this is why you've been in NYC for so long lando: idk lily's always right oscarpiastri: you said it was for a brand deal! lando: maybe her dad wants to sponsor mclaren lando: actually forget about that i think he already does 💀 oscarpiastri: i don't like talking to you on instagram text me lando: what if i don't. lando: hello???

mclaren: so cute!

lando: HI ADMIN

maxverstappen: someone's been busy

yourinstagram: what happened to being private 😭 now they definitely think we're dating

lando: sorry i didn't know it was such a bad thing yourinstagram: at least my fake boyfriend is a lot of people's celebrity crush yourinstagram: can't be ruining my image

user2: LANDO ARE YOU STALKING THE #LANDOYN TAG ON TWITTER?? HOW DID YOU FIND THAT??

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liked by scuderiaferrari, redbullracing, and 1,913,500 others

f1: lovely seeing all of you at the o2 ❤️ we hope you enjoyed the livery reveals! one week until pre-season testing begins in bahrain.

view all 253,014 comments

user1: admin you know what you're doing with that pic of lando

user2: missing him and yn *liked by f1 user2: f1 a landoyn stan confirmed?

user3: eh liveries, great articles about max trying to get out of going

user4: alexandra the prettiest wag

user5: yn appearance when 😔 did anyone see how he looked around for her then stopped bcs he remembered she wasn't there

user6: I KNEW I WASN'T CRAZY

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

lando: did me so dirty with that pic

yourinstagram: shh you look adorable lando: adorable AND pretty? you flatter me yourinstagram: don't get used to it

yourbff: "friends"

yourinstagram: but you're my best friend 😋 yourbff: cause he's more than a friend where is your media literacy

hannahstjohn: I SAW HIM CALLING YOU BACKSTAGE

yourinstagram: so did everyone else it seems hannahstjohn: whoever runs the f1 account loves wag appearances🤷‍♀️

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lando has added to their stories 🔁 yourinstagram's story

replies:

oscarpiastri: are you sure you don't like her

oscarpiastri: sorry i meant are you sure you're not in love with each other lando: you know i think she might fancy me a little oscarpiastri: a little?? lando: im not sure how i feel about her though oscarpiastri: the cameras literally caught you blushing on call lando: ARE YOU SERIOUS oscarpiastri: yeah admin outed you oscarpiastri: they tagged you

user1: posted her on main again aww

yourinstagram: im not even complaining

lando: am i that charming yourinstagram: no i just look great in that photo yourinstagram: y/n l/n, absolute baddie who bagged what's his name norris lando: ☹️ yourinstagram: its okay your fangirls still love you

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liked by oscarpiastri, f1, and 330,217 others

mclaren: lando when y/n calls him (for legal reasons we can't repost that clip until f1 posts it but you know which one we're talking about 🤐)

tagged: lando

view all 57,341 comments

user1: admin you're so brave * liked by mclaren

f1: it's okay we won't rat you out

mclaren: thanks bestie!

user2: oscar crying in the club because his boyfriend is in love with someone else

user3: @/oscarpiastri would you like to comment user4: he's been crying since jan prob

lando: admin i am literally going to hunt you down

oscarpiastri: he follows the landoyn tag on twitter lando: @/oscarpiastri HELLO??? mclaren: he said it not me user5: they're so chaotic

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bahrain

you saw him get out of his car, landing evenly on the ground. you looked at oscar, who gave you a small nudge. "go on, he doesn't know it yet."

"what if he doesn't-"

"then he's a dickhead for leading you on." you liked his bluntness. it was a change from how polite he normally was. and it showed just how strongly he believed it.

you nodded, then strode forward. you could hear the cameras turning, but it didn't matter. lando had taken off his helmet, and his back was to you as he talked to his race engineer.

it was now or never. you gave him a small tap on the shoulder. he whirled around so fast you almost toppled backwards. realizing it was you, his hands shot out and wrapped around your waist. "y/n? oh my god."

you gave him a shy smile, wrapping your arms around him. "told you it was good."

he buried his face in your neck, embracing you so tight you didn't know if he was capable of letting go. eventually, he did.

"so what did you have to tell me?"

you blinked at him slowly. "try to guess."

his eyes widened, as if a hope had come into him. "you won't laugh?"

a shake of your head. "promise."

"then-" he bit his lip, looking down for a minute. "do you like me, like that?"

"what are we, in grade school?" you deadpanned. you saw his heart plummet, then wanted to take back your words. "yes, lando. yes, i came all this way just to see your stupid face. yes, i like you. like that. like i can't get your smile out of my head and i'll stay up until 5 just to watch you hold an award. like i'll respond to you any time, because talking to you is-"

he raised one of his hands ever so slightly so he could pull you closer, so close his lips were on yours and you were cut off mid-sentence. you'd been waiting for this since you'd met him, you realized. since you'd first seen that curly mop of hair at dinner with liam and hannah. since the first time he'd laughed and you realized you'd never heard a prettier sound.

"i like you like that too."

and the cameras caught all that, words and kiss and pictures and all, but it was different. this was something you wanted to remember.

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liked by yourinstagram and 1,504,891 others

lando: a great end to pre-season testing, all thanks to my lucky charm 🤍

tagged: yourinstagram

view all 94,102 comments

yourinstagram: me fr -> 🍀

yourinstagram: (get it. FOUR leaf clover) lando: i literally worship the ground you walk on lando: you're the reason i believe in fate yourinstagram: woah slow down there buddy user1: i'm so single its not okay user2: they're basically a married couple already

mclaren: your team in the garage rn like 🧍‍♀️🧍

lando: love you guys too! user3: @/mclaren f1 account alr posted kiss why have you not 😡 mclaren: @/user3 we're carefully selecting the cutest ones

hannahstjohn: lando norris and his "friend"

yourinstagram: IM STUPID OKAY hannahstjohn: can't believe it took you that long

user4: hes so happy 🥹

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liked by lando and 919,501 others

yourinstagram: by your side 🖤

view all 71,440 comments

tagged: lando

lando: baby where'd all your posts go ☹️

yourinstagram: oh i forgot to add you to my close friends lando: is that because we're more than just friends yourinstagram: no i just forgot user1: HELPP

user2: hottest WAG on the grid

oscarpiastri: i'm sure you'll take good care of him

yourinstagram: scout's honor 🫡

user3: okay her dress is so pretty though where's it from

yourinstagram: my aunt's brand! (brandname) <3 user3: @/yourinstagram OMG TYSM QUEEN

user4: she finally made her acc public AHH does this mean landoyn content

lewishamilton: lovely meeting you, y/n

yourinstagram: 🤩 you too lewis!!! lando: you're such a fan. yourinstagram: you're just jealous

the ‘born to die’ series

summary; a series of written/smaus fiction of various formula one drivers based on releases of singer, lana del rey

f1 masterlist

norman fcking rockwell | daniel ricciardo pt 2

daniel proves that he is just a man and that’s just what he does.

the other woman | charles leclerc

after his engagement party, y/n realizes that she will always be the other woman.

ultraviolence | carlos sainz

carlos and y/n always find themselves going back to the same toxic relationship. no matter how hard they try, it just always felt like a kiss.

chemtrails over the country club | max verstappen

nobody’s son and nobody’s daughter finally find peace with each other after the toughness of their childhood.

carmen | lando norris

y/n was addicting to everyone, the boys and the girls. lando was just another one in her path to become ultimately addicted.

young and beautiful | oscar piastri

due to her pregnancy, y/n wonders if oscar will always love her, if he will love her after she’s had their baby, after she’s no longer young and beautiful.

west coast | lewis hamilton

y/n leaves lewis due to the feeling of being held back from consistently traveling to his races, only to realize how much she missed him.

say yes to heaven | george russell

3 important times during y/n’s and george’s relationship where she says yes to heaven.

margaret | alex albon

moments when alex’s knows that y/n is the one for him. when he knows that he will spend the rest of his life with her.

american | logan sargeant

y/n was never one to mess around and rebel against her parents, until she met a fellow american, logan.

pretty when you cry | pierre gasly

y/n will always wait for pierre, no matter how many times he leaves her crying, she will always wait.

salvatore | esteban ocon

after living a life full of cold exes, y/n never expected to find her ‘salvatore’ during a summer in monaco.

stargirl interlude | yuki tsunoda

yuki just wants y/n to come to a race, after all he just wants to see her shine.

happiness is a butterfly | zhou guanyu

y/n learns that happiness is a butterfly all thanks to guanyu

million dollar man | lance stroll

in the world of her million dollar man, y/n can’t help but feel like a lost puppy and stick out like a sore thumb leading to mess of jumbled feelings.

born to die | fernando alonso

after their engagement, y/n realized her and fernando may have different views of the future. it makes her wonder if they were really born to die.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

note; i've been meaning to do this series since norman fcking rockwell lol, but it's finally here! it may take some time to do everything but bear with me! and which fic I post may not be in order as listed!!

Hurricane - Part 5

{“I bought some from here last week. They were so good. The vendor said they were picked this morning. Can you imagine these with some fresh cream and a bit of sugar? Oh my goodness.” “Buy three cartons.” Max said, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket without hesitation. He wanted multiples of anything that made Emma smile like that.}

notes: no warnings. just vibes. max being soft for emma. thank you to my own personal writing therapist who routinely talks me off a ledge when i'm convinced this entire thing is trash @lestapiastrisgirl <3 pairing: max verstappen x emma meyer (female oc) word count: 6k

hurricane master list main master list ask me anything

Emma didn’t make it to her planned 9am pilates class the next morning, much to absolutely no one’s surprise. The headache that pounded behind her eyes the moment her alarm went off much too early had her silencing her phone. 

“Who did I think I was last night? Why in the world did you allow me to think I’d be human enough to make a 9am class, Verstappen?” Emma moans as she pads out into the kitchen a few hours later. She collapses theatrically into a chair at the kitchen counter, her head immediately falling forward, forehead resting against the cool marble. 

Max chuckles from his spot at the stove where he stands frying up some eggs. The breakfast this morning wasn’t exceptionally fancy, but the thought behind it was the same. “I tried to turn your alarm off in the car last night but you yelled at me. Something about how you’d need to sweat out all the alcohol you’d drank.” 

“I’m never drinking ever again.” She groans, tapping her forehead against the counter a few times. 

Max snorts, sliding two of the fried eggs onto a plate before sliding them over to Emma along with a fork. “How many times have you said that before?” 

Emma lifts her head off the counter to glare at Max, “More than five, less than ten.” 

Max pushed the eggs further towards her, encouraging her to eat. “I’m going to go on a run after I eat, do you want to come with me? Sweat out that alcohol like you wanted to last night?” 

“Don’t you use my words against me, I’m injured.” 

“You’re hungover.” 

“Same thing.” Emma snaps but there’s no bite behind her words. “You don’t have to hang out with me all the time during an off week, Max. I’m just your assistant.” Her face softens into something more serious, her voice dropping. 

“You are not just my assistant, Sunshine.” Max corrects, eyes serious. He was unwilling to allow Emma to self-deprecate like that, even this early in the morning. “You’re my friend who just happens to run my life with military precision. Besides, I like hanging out with you.” 

Emma grins, not bothering to hide her pleasure at his words. “Okay, fine but I if I pass out, you’re responsible for making sure I get home safe.” 

“Of course. Now eat, you need something in your stomach before you do any sort of cardio.” 

She shakes her head before popping a forkful of egg into her mouth, a satisfied hum scratching at the back of her throat. Max swallows thickly at the sound. “These are perfect. If this whole racing thing doesn’t work out, you should consider opening up a fried egg restaurant.” 

Max chuckles, cracking another few eggs into the pan for himself. He slots a few pieces of bread into the toaster before pulling out the butter and Emma’s favorite jam. The sheer domesticity of the moment has something deep in his chest aching with familiarity. Emma eating quietly as she scrolls through her social media feeds, Max standing at the stove watching over his own eggs. It was a silent glimpse into something he’d never known was possible for him. 

“Are you volunteering to be my taste tester?” 

“Just add it to my many different job titles: Emotional Support Assistant, Professional Egg Taster. My resume is going to be stacked after working for you.” 

The thought of Emma not working for him anymore sends a strange trill of anxiety through him. He sways at the stove a bit when the thought races through his mind. Between the way she’d leaned into him while he steadied her in the elevator last night and the way her hug had lingered a little longer than necessary when he finally was able to get Emma into bed, the way she’d become such a solid fixture in his life so quickly made Max’s head spin. 

When his eggs are ready, he slides them onto a plate before sitting next to Emma at the counter. They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, the quiet only broken by the sounds of toast crunching and forks clinking against porcelain. 

“Okay, I think I can do a short run without regretting my entire existence.” Emma says after popping the last bits of egg into her mouth, fork scraping against the now empty plate. “How long did you want to go for?” 

“Ten miles?” 

Emma nearly spits out the sip of orange juice. When Max doesn’t laugh, she shakes her head. “Oh, you’re serious?” 

Max chuckles. “Miami is next weekend. It’s hot and humid as fuck down there, I need to make sure my endurance is better than it was in Jeddah. I was dying after.” 

Emma’s mind flickers back to after the race in Jeddah. He’d been flushed such a deep scarlet, sweat making his blond hair stick haphazardly to his forehead. After the post-race celebrations, it had been straight into the ice bath for him, a little tradition that Emma didn’t mind being present for in the least. 

“Ten miles sounds ambitious for someone who’s main form of exercise last night was lifting my drink to my lips over and over…and over.” 

“You don’t have to come with me, you can stay here on the couch with Jimmy and Sassy. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” 

Emma shakes her head, waving her hand dismissively. “No, drunk me was right. I need to sweat out all of my bad decisions from last night.” 

“You can spend the rest of the afternoon rotting on the couch. Crane wanted to stream some iRacing later, if that’s okay with you.” 

Emma shrugs as she moves towards the hallway. “Fine with me as long as you don’t start yelling at him again when he runs you into the wall.” 

“He did it on purpose!” Max protests, laugh rumbling in the back of his throat. 

“It’s a video game!” Emma argues back with a laugh before walking down the hall to get changed. 

Max just rolls his eyes before turning back to the dishes that need washing before they can leave. He tosses everything in the sink before filling it with hot water and soap, letting them soak so he can let them be this afternoon’s chores. 

It doesn’t take long and before Max is even finished wiping off the counter, Emma is back in the kitchen, dressed in a matching set of mint green leggings and sports bra. When he turns towards the sounds of her shuffling down the hall, he has to lean against the counter for support. There were several inches of bare skin between the bottom of the top she had on and her leggings. He swallowed thickly at the sight of her navy blue and red jeweled belly button ring. That was new, he thought idly, not minding one bit how it matched his colors. 

“Max, are you okay?” Emma interrupted his perusal of her body, eyebrow arched in quiet question. 

Max clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh..” He shakes his head, the thoughts springing up in his mind a bit spicy for this early in the morning. “Yeah. Yep, totally fine. You ready?” 

Emma reaches up, pulling her ponytail a bit tighter. “No, but lets go anyway.” 

With a chuckle, Max’s hand finds the small of Emma’s back as he leads her out of the apartment, happy to be moving towards the door so the temptation of doing other cardio activities with her doesn’t get a chance to take hold. “I’ll go easy on you, Sunshine.” 

Emma rolls her eyes, “Yeah. I’m sure you will.” 

Twitter user918 - anyone else see Max this morning in Monaco with that blonde? Who is she? >>> user000 - It looked like it was Emma, his new assistant.  >>>user0209 - he’s hanging out with his assistant on non-race weeks???  >>>user090 have you SEEN Emma??? If I were Max I’d never let her leave. User938 Are we sure they’re not actually dating? I swear I saw them flirting in the background of the most recent Red Bull video Yuki was doing.  >>>user102 can we normalize accepting that sometimes a man and woman are literally just FRIENDS. Besides, she’s his EMPLOYEE, that would be so weird.  >>>user999 idk about you but I don’t look at MY coworkers like Max looks at Emma.  >>>user019 @/user999 IKR??? Did you see the way he looked at her the last time he was streaming with Red Line? She handed him food during a break they had and he looked up at her with the most obvious heart eyes I’ve ever seen.  >>>user001 ya’ll are nuts user112 I hope she makes an appearance on stream this afternoon. Max always seems happier when she’s around.  

The familiar sounds of Max’s sim rig filled the quiet of the apartment later that afternoon. Emma scrolled on her phone as she listened idly to the hum of the computer fan, the click of the paddle shifters, and the focused murmur of Max’s voice as he chatted back and forth with the other guys that were on the stream. On the largest monitor, his virtual car navigated a challenging corner on the digital rendition of the track in Spa. 

Unseen by the thousands of viewers that were glued to the Twitch stream, Emma was sprawled out comfortable on the large sectional sofa behind his setup, Sassy curled up on her lap purring away happily. A half-eaten bowl of popcorn sat forgotten on the coffee table, the comforting voices of President Barlet and his staff softly filtered though the air from her laptop screen as she lost herself in an episode of The West Wing. 

The afternoon sun, now slung lower in the sky, cast a warm glow over the scene, a calm picture of relaxed domesticity that had begun to define the way Emma and Max existed together in their off-time. 

Suddenly, Max’s focused concentration seemed to waver for just a beat as a second, feminine voice was picked up by his sensitive microphone. He briefly muted, finger darting over the red button as his eyes flickered off-screen towards Emma, a small, private smily tugging at his lips as he spoke. 

The chat immediately exploded. 

user200 wait, who is he talking to??? User0990 I swear I just heard a girl’s voice in the background??? User009 spill the tea Max! Who’s the mystery woman that’s got you blushing like that???

Crane saw the comments flooding in as he watched Max’s video instead of the race he should have been paying attention to. “Oi! Max! No distractions, focus on the apex!” 

Max’s cheeks flushed slightly, a fact not lost on the chat, as he shook his head. “I am focused!” He argued after he unmuted himself. 

“You are not.” Emma called from the couch, hitting the pause button on her show. “He is not focused, Crane!” She called, enjoying the way Max’s head snapped back in her direction. 

Chat exploded when they heard Emma’s voice. 

User099 I HEARD HER AGAIN.  User334 who is it Max?! Come on, spill!!  User000 we’re not going to let this go until we see her.  User009 she even SOUNDS pretty.  User982 I bet its the same blonde that he was seen with this morning running in the marina.  >>>user334 he was WHAT??? 

Max sighed, shaking his head. “Relax guys, it’s just Emma. You know, my assistant? She’s just chilling on the couch.”

The chat went wild again, a flurry of new messages flooding the screen. 

User333 EMMA??? THEEEEEE EMMA??? The only one on Red Bull’s payroll that can tame the lion???  user003 oh to be a personal assistant to THE Max Verstappen and live in Monaco.  User020 wait, isn’t it sort of weird for his assistant to be at his apartment on a Saturday afternoon?  >>>user000 yeah, seems a bit unprofessional, no?  >>>user222 adults can be friends outside of work guys.  User100 COME SAY HI EMMA!!! >>>user888 yeah, we want to see the girl that’s got Max behaving in the media pen the last few races.  User928 idk guys. The way he looks at her is giving ‘I have the biggest crush on you’ instead of ‘I am very much your boss’ 

Max’s reluctance was palpable. He liked having this space, his online racing world, separate from his very really and increasingly complicated life with Emma. Sharing her with the outside world felt…intrusive. Like he was revealing a piece of him that he’d rather keep away from the prying eyes of the public. So much of his life was already fodder for public consumption. His relationship with Emma felt…different. Like it was something that needed to be protected. 

He muted again briefly before turning his head. “They want to say hi.” 

Emma’s brows knit together, “Who?” 

Max swept a hand towards his monitors. “Everyone.” 

“Is that cool?” 

Max nodded, eyes flicking back to where the chat was losing their mind. Crane and the rest of the guys were quiet, knowing not to push Max into revealing more of his private life than he was comfortable with. They were respectful with his boundaries even if the general public could be a little intense sometimes. “Only if you’re comfortable with it.” 

Emma contemplated her options for a moment before grinning. She’d chatted with Crane and the other guys before when they had played COD the other night off stream so she was comfortable with them. Her social media had been getting more and more popular since she’d started being spotted with Max in the paddock and on TV feeds during race weekends. While the attention was a little overwhelming, she admired the enthusiasm of the fans and knew they were important to Max. 

Emma surprised herself when she stood from the couch, pulling at the hem of the crewneck sweatshirt she’d pulled on over her bike shorts earlier after her shower. Leaning into the camera frame, she grinned at the lens, her gaze finding the stream as she waved at Crane and the rest of the crew. Her blond hair, freshly washed and hanging loose around her face, fell over her shoulder in a sheet of gold. Max didn’t move when it tumbled low over his shoulder when she got closer to where he was sitting. 

“Hi guys!” She waggled her fingers at the camera, smirk tugging at her full lips. 

Max sucked in a breath, the scent of her vanilla and honey shampoo wrapping itself around his senses. 

The chat exploded. 

User738 oh my GOD she’s gorgeous.  User928 no wonder Max was distracted  >>>user9298 If I were Max I’d never get ANYTHING done.  User0021 where is your crewneck from??? That color is perfection on you!!  User300 someone start a petition for Emma to become a regular on these. I’d watch anything she’s on.  User928 we need a hair tutorial PLEASE, your curls are perfection.  User918 No because why is Emma the best part of this entire stream tho???

Emma watched as the compliments flooded in, pink tinging the apples of her cheeks. She hadn’t expected to be so warmly welcomed by his fans. Max smirked too, secretly liking the chaos playing out in front of him after all. The reluctance to share Emma with the world was quickly replaced with a mixture of pride and inflated ego. 

“You guys are so sweet, thank you! The crewneck is ancient but I think I got it from Aritzia a few seasons ago!” She answered a few other questions quickly as the timer for the team’s break wound down. 

Eventually though, it was time for the next heat to start so Crane had to attempt to reign the chat back in before the next race began. Emma stood up straight, her hand resting on Max’s shoulder in comforting and surprisingly possessive gesture that not a single person on the stream missed or ignored. More than a few comments called out the way her fingers flexed ever so slightly into the soft fabric of Max’s old t-shirt.

“Crane, if you need me to keep Max in line from here, let me know. I’m right over there, three episodes deep in season seven of West Wing.”   

The chat continued to buzz with excitement long after Emma disappeared and the next race had begun. Max, though still thoroughly flustered, couldn’t help the small smile that lingered on his face. They liked her. Seeing her so easily win over this part of his world, a part he usually kept separate from his personal life was…nice. Really nice. He glanced over at Emma a few times while there was a pause in the action, watching her now that she was thoroughly engrossed in the episode that was playing on her laptop, a prickle of warmth and something that felt a lot like pride, swelled in his chest. 

Maybe sharing her wasn’t so bad after all. 

Maybe. 

If there was one thing Emma loved about living full-time in Monaco, it was the farmer’s market that set up shop every Sunday morning down the street from Max’s apartment. It was a touch on the touristy side but there were so many vendors that had local produce grown just over the border in France and Italy along with fresh seafood and other proteins from farmers and butchers. If she was home on a Sunday morning, you’d always find Emma down the street wandering through the stalls. 

This Sunday was no different. Emma was up before the sun had fully chased away the inky darkness of night, a quiet confidence in her movements as she pulled on a comfortable sweater and jeans. Her large tote bag, already filled with a few reusable shopping bags, sat waiting for her by the door. The apartment was still quiet, the only sounds keeping her company this early were the hum of the refrigerator and the distant lapping of waves against the harbor wall. Max was likely still fast asleep after his late-night streaming session with Red Line the night before. 

She didn’t mind though, going to the market alone. In fact, she embraced the quiet stillness that leaving the apartment this early afforded her. Miami was coming up and they were leaving early Wednesday morning to head to the States, so Emma was eager to have a bit more quiet time before she was catapulted into the chaos of a race weekend. 

As she reached for the door, the quiet was broken by the sound of Max’s bedroom door creaking open. He appeared in the hallway, hair adorably rumpled and sticking out haphazardly every which way, eyes still half closed as he squatted over at Emma. 

“Where are you sneaking off to?” He mumbled, voice thick with sleep. 

Emma turned, a soft smile on her face. “Just off to the farmers market, sleepyhead. Don’t worry, I’ll make you a proper breakfast when I get back. I shouldn’t be gone long. Any special requests? There was this spectacular little bakery there for the first time a few weeks ago, the croissants were half butter I swear. I can get a few? You liked the almond ones I got last time, didn’t you?” 

Max looked at her curiously, a bit stunned that she remembered how he’d preferred the almond filled pastries over the plain ones. He leaned against the doorframe, still slightly disoriented, as he considered her question for a moment. “Forget the list, Sunshine.” He murmured, pushing himself off the wall and shuffling back towards his bedroom. “Give me a minute and I’ll come with you.” 

Emma blinked after him, her mouth forming a perfect little O of surprise. “You don’t have to! I can go by myself.” 

“Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready. You’re always gushing about this market, I want to see what all the fuss is about myself.” 

Emma chuckled, shaking her head. “Okay, okay but hurry! If I miss those peaches from the farmer in Nice like I did last week, I’m going to be cranky.” 

Max shook his head before ducking into his room. “I’ll be quick. I don’t want to have a grumpy Emma on my hands all day.” 

***

The early morning air at the market was cool and crisp, a gentle breeze carrying the mingled scents of freshly picked fruit, flowers, and the salty sea air blowing in off the water. Sunlight dappled through the canvas awnings of the stalls, casting a golden glow on the colorful displays of produce and freshly cut flowers. Emma, with her tote bag slung casually over her shoulder, moved with a comfortable familiarity through the early crowd, her eyes bright as she examined plump tomatoes and fragrant bunches of herbs. 

Max followed dutifully behind, still blinking sleepily every once in a while. He’d stayed up much too late last night but the cool air but watching Emma duck between stalls without a care in the world was enough to pull him out of his tired haze. 

Emma stoped at a stall overflowing with vibrant strawberries, their sweet scent intoxicating. She carefully picked through the small baskets that held quarts and pints of the ruby red fruit, her brow furrowed in concentration as she made sure she was guaranteed to pick the best of the bunch. Max, who had been idly watching her from a few meters away, wandered over to see what she was concentrating so hard at. 

“Those look good.” He murmured, peering over her shoulder. 

Emma felt his presence before she noticed him standing behind her. He smelled faintly of his body wash she had bought him last week at the pharmacy, his warmth radiating off of him as he stood closely examining the strawberries Emma had clutched in her hands. She tipped her head up slightly to catch his eye, surprised that he was already looking down at her with a soft smile on his lips. The way her stomach flipped at the way Max was looking at her was something she couldn’t ignore, despite her every effort to do exactly that. She should not be liking the way Max’s blue eyes had been watching her all morning, the way he tracked her no matter where she was. 

The way she felt under his watch was dangerous. 

“I bought some from here last week. They were so good. The vendor said they were picked this morning. Can you imagine these with some fresh cream and a bit of sugar? Oh my goodness.” 

“Buy three cartons.” Max said, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket without hesitation. 

He wanted multiples of anything that made Emma smile like that. 

He paid the vendor and turned away from the stall at the same time Emma did, her shoulder brushing his with a casual tenderness that had his heart aching. She reached into the bag where the cartons of strawberries were, plucking a small one off the top of the pile. Emma paused before raising it towards Max’s lips. “Here, try. I swear, these are the best thing you’ve ever tasted.” 

Max struggled to keep the surprise off his face, feeling the way the tips of his ears turned pink at the casually intimate gesture. He obediently opened his mouth, sinking into the way the Emma’s dove-gray eyes sparkled as his lips closed around the proffered strawberry. The sweetness that burst across his tongue as he bit into the flesh of the fruit had Max’s eyes fluttering closed, a satisfied groan rumbling at the back of his throat. He was quiet for a moment, enjoying how closely Emma’s body was to his. 

“So good.” He murmured, his eyes never leaving hers in a way that had Emma’s stomach fluttering. The way he said it had her wondering if he was just talking about the strawberry though. 

After a few moments, Emma took a slight step away, unable to come up with any more excuses to remain so close to Max. She wandered away, towards a flower vendor, as Max watched after her. Something in his chest squeezed at the casual way she glanced over her shoulder, as if she was checking to make sure he was following her. He joined her a few beats later, watching as she examined a colorful bunch of tulips. 

“They remind me of home.” She murmured, plucking out a particularly stunning bouquet of pink and yellow blooms. 

Max was surprised at her comment, considering how she felt about going home and her parents attitude but he supposed even he could be nostalgic about the place that raised him, even if their hometown held painful memories for him as well. 

“Are you going to buy your girlfriend the tulips or will you just let her make heart-eyes at you until she purchases them herself?” The merchant teases from his place behind his table. 

Emma huffs a small laugh but doesn’t bother correcting the elderly man. Her head simply swiveled around and up to glance back at Max. “Yeah, do I have buy my own flowers today, Maxie?” She teased, grin stretching across her face. 

Max simply rolled his eyes, casual move belying the storm of butterflies creating a tornado in his stomach at the man’s assumption and the way Emma was playing along. “Who am I to say no to such a pretty woman?” 

The way Emma bit her lip in delight had Max stifling a groan as he reached back into his wallet, not for the first time that morning. The old man chuckled as he took Max’s credit card from him before turning away to wrap up the bundle of tulips that Emma had picked out.  

Twitter User928 I SWEAR TO GOD I JUST SAW A RANDOM BLONDE HAND FEEDING MAX VERSTAPPEN A STRAWBERRY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MONACO FARMERS MARKET. I REFUSE TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS.  >>>user2008 random blonde? Was it Emma tho??? >>>User928 OH MY GOD IT WAS  >>>user2008 no FUCKING way 

Max never usually woke up to thunderstorms. The loud clash of titans in the sky was never quite enough to rouse him from his sleep. It wasn’t that he was a deep sleeper. It was just that the loud and bright storms that blew into Monaco in the spring never bothered him enough to be a burden. 

Until the night before him and Emma were due to leave for Miami. 

He didn’t realize what woke him up at first. It had been several hours since he’d turned in, leaving Emma alone at the piano while she worked out her last bits of nervous tension before heading to bed herself. Max had been deep asleep for a while, so when he was pulled from the deep, pristine lake of his dreams, the cobwebs of sleep took a bit longer to shake themselves from his brain. 

He blinked awake, sleep blurring at the edge of his vision as he reached for his bearings. 

His bed. 

At night. 

Rain beating against the windows, flashes of lighting streaking across the sky. 

Light shining under the gap in the doorway. 

That caught Max’s attention. He glanced at his phone: 2:24 am. There was no way Emma was still awake, right? He listened carefully, expecting to hear the now-familiar strains of the piano. She hadn’t seemed upset when he’d left her earlier in the evening, or else he would’ve stayed up with her. 

He sat and listened but was met with only the sound of the rain whispering against the windows and a distant crack of thunder. 

But the lights. There was a least one hall light on outside, maybe more judging by the stark brightness that crawled across the carpet in his bedroom. Max tugged on a shirt as he stumbled his way towards the door, limbs still stiff with sleep. 

The door creaked open and Max paused again. There wasn’t any sound of the piano but he did hear the gentle clinks and sounds of movement softly floating out of the kitchen. Surely no burglar would be making themselves at home in the light, preparing a sandwich, Max thought as he padded down the hallway towards the sounds. 

“Sunshine?” His voice was thicker than his vision, rough with exhaustion. 

Near the stove, Emma startled so suddenly she nearly dropped the baking sheet she held in her hands. “Max! Oh my God!” She gasps, clutching at her throat with a oven-mitt clad hand. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

Max’s eyes took in the scene before him. Every single inch of counter space was taken up by sacks of flour and sugar, mixing bowls of several different sizes, dozens of muffins and a few loaves of freshly baked bread. It was then that the smell of what was going on hit Max’s nose. Bread. Freshly baked from the smell of it. Yeasty and warm, slightly sweet at the end when you swallowed. Something sweet too, cinnamon like the perfume Emma wore. Spicy with a touch of earth. 

“Are you…baking at 2 in the morning?” 

Emma looked like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Ummm…” Her eyes swung comically from left to right before flickering back to Max. “Yeah?” 

Max scrubbed at his face with his hands, struggling to figure out if he should be concerned or if this was normal behavior from the blonde. “Why?” 

Emma worried at her lip, the tips of her ears going pink. “You’re going to make fun of me.” 

Max walked towards the counter, the chair whispering against the tile as he pulled it out to sit. “I won’t make fun of you, I promise. Is everything okay? You were fine when I went to bed.” 

Emma’s gaze swung from Max’s towards the storm that beat against the apartment’s windows. “I really hate thunderstorms. I’m terrified of them, really.” Her cheeks heats at the confession, memories of being made fun of for being scared flickering through her mind. “And when one happens, the only thing that can calm me down is to bake. It helps me focus on something that I have total control over. The tunnel vision is…soothing.” 

Emma chewed at the bottom of her lip. She’d never told anyone that before. She’d always assumed her fear of thunderstorms was irrational. That’s what her mother had told her when she was little. There was nothing to be afraid of and she was being silly. Any big feelings she had were always minimized into ‘Oh, Emma’s being a drama queen today’ to discount her experience. So she’d learned to push them down, learned to cope the best way she knew how so she didn’t bother anyone else with her problems. And that coping ended up being baking.

Max watched from across the kitchen as Emma went somewhere in her head for a few moments. He could tell the way her eyes went unfocused and she paused as if a memory had taken hold and she couldn’t shake it. 

“Why would I make fun of you for being scared of something or figuring out a way to cope with that fear?” Max narrowed his eyes at Emma like he was trying to understand a piece of art. 

“Why wouldn’t you?” There was no sarcasm behind her question. It was genuine and that fact shattered Max’s heart into jagged splinters. 

Max rose slowly before rounding the counter, stopping right in front of Emma. He gently took the pan she held in her hand and set it on the stove before turning back to her. Max was so close, Emma could feel the heat of his breath skate over the top of her head. “It is not normal to make the people you care about feel insignificant and small at the expense of a joke, Sunshine. You do know that, don’t you?” 

Logically, Emma knew this was true. Knew that the way she was brought up, with it’s veiled bullying and penchant for sweeping things under the rug, was not normal but she couldn’t help feeling tied to that way of looking at the world. 

When she doesn’t say anything, Max continues. “I think that you finding a way to cope with your fear in a productive way is worthy of praise, Sunshine. This storm is loud and anxiety is valid.” Max pauses, a slight grin playing at the edge of his lips. He watched Emma’s eyes track the movement before they returned back to his. “And why the hell would I make fun of something that results in me having freshly baked bread for the rest of my life?” 

The implication hung heavy in the air as the atmosphere shifted into something close to snapping. The scent of warm bread and cinnamon seemed to become heavier, mingling with the electric charge of the storm that was baring down on them outside. Max’s gaze softened, his earlier teasing replaced by raw sincerity that made Emma’s breath catch in her throat. He saw the lingering hurt in her eyes, the ingrained expectation of ridicule. A wave of fierce protectiveness welled up in his chest, his only desire in that moment was making sure she understood how serious he was about her. 

Max shifted even closer towards Emma, closing the final distance between them. She tipped her head back slightly, her gaze locked on his, vulnerability shining in her eyes as she looked up at him. The rhythmic drumming of the rain against the windows faded into a distant buzz, the sound of her own heartbeat hammering against her ribcage the only sound echoing in her ears. 

Max’s eyes drifted down, almost against his will, to her lips. They were slightly parted, the dim light of the kitchen highlighting the delicate curve of the cupids bow Max often found himself starting at. He hadn’t intended to, hadn’t even consciously thought about what he was doing, but that undeniable pull, the magnetic force that both of them seemed powerless to resist, took over. 

He leaned in, the movement so slow it was almost imperceptible, his breath warm against her cheek. Max’s lips just barely brushed against hers, a feather light touch that sent a jolt of pure electricity zinging through Emma’s veins. It was a fleeting graze, a silent test of the waters that had been swirling into a hurricane since the moment he rescued her all those weeks ago. 

Before either of them could react, before the significance of what was happening could fully register, a deafening CRACK of thunder, closer and more violent than any that had shook the house that night, reverberated through the apartment. The lights flickered violently, and Emma gasped, instinctively jumping back as if she’d been physically struck. The fragile intimacy shattered as Max blew out a long breath, carding his fingers through his hair. 

Neither of them spoke for several moments, each contemplating what had nearly just happened. Tension thrummed in the air as Emma’s gaze fell to the floor. She lifted her fingers to touch her lips, almost as if she wanted to remember what the press of Max’s lips had felt like moments before. 

Max cleared his throat after a beat, fighting the suffocating heat that had blanketed the kitchen. “It’s late, Sunshine and we have a big weekend ahead of us. Is everything out of the oven?” 

Emma nodded, flinching slightly as another loud thunderclap rattled the windows. “Yeah. You go to bed, I won’t be able to sleep for hours anyway. I’ll stay away from the oven though, I’m sorry I woke you up.” 

“You should just try to get some rest…” 

Tears prick at the back of her eyes, the overwhelming situation in front of her almost too much to take. “I can’t…” She whispered, shame turning her neck red. 

“Do you want to lay down with me?” 

The question hangs the air and for a brief, terrifying moment, Max thinks he’s taken things just a step too far. 

“In your bed?” Emma asks, eyes wide. 

Max only nods.

Waits. 

“Okay.” She nods too. 

“Okay.” He repeats before reaching out to twine his fingers with Emma’s slender ones, tugging her out of the kitchen and towards his darkened bedroom. 

tag list: @alessioayla @addy-lol @changetyre @obxstiles @tvdtw4ever @joaofelixml @vickykazuya @47chickens @magnusstan @joannaln4 @nicooolsstuff @wakasays @slutforcoffein @ajordan2020 @widow-cevans @isagrace22 @simp4f1 @chertik-007vvv @mayax2o07 @scenesofobx @a-beaverhausen @glitteryturtledeer @halleest @sltwins @doesgekouwe @unknownmystery22 @honethatty12 @chaoswithus @sarahsobsession @liz140569 @sinfully-yoursss @ilove-tswizzle @lilbitchfromfaraway @irisesinthegarden @anayaverse @mynameisangeloflife @i-survived-a-shark-attack @smithieandy @fastandcurious16 @angelluv16 @sinfully-yoursss

SV05E1

Pairing: husband!sebastian vettel x wife!fem!reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: public sex, a little degradation, several orgasms, jealousy, swearing, google translated german

It was quite a long time since Seb and you had decided to come out for dinner. Especially after his retirement you had moved back to Germany with your husband who had been focused on his shaping his future career and spending more time with the kids. 

With the kids, you both never had time to attend to your relationship. Stolen kisses &  quickies in the washroom was what held your relationship together. The past few weeks of busy schedules and having to constantly make sure the kids were sorted out with their schoolwork put a strain on your relationship. Which is why when Sebastain’s sisters had offered to take care of the kids for the weekend, after overhearing a hushed argument you both had during a family get together, without any hesitation the both of you had said yes. 

So that led you to where you were now. In a fancy restaurant in Monaco drinking wine and waiting for the food you ordered to arrive. 

All throughout the evening the waiter had been throwing you flirtatious glances. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or maybe it was the fact that Sebastian seemed almost invisible to them. 

“If that moron doesn’t stop drecksack (scum bag) doesn’t stop eyeing you up and down I might have to go down there and punch him,” Sebastian muttered to you under his breath. 

This wasn’t new for either of you. Sebastian was much older than you and at times people thought he wasn’t actually your husband but rather someone else- more specifically someone who wasn’t romantically accompanying you. 

“Süße (honey) ignore that,” you said rubbing your ring clad fingers up and down his arms, “You know I’ve got my eyes only on you.”

You knew that it didn’t ease Sebastian and that you had gone over this a million times but the man was jealous & possessive over you rightfully so. 

“Give me a kiss liebling,” he requested and you obliged too excitedly. 

Caressing the side of his cheek and leaning in to lock your lips with his, you felt yourself melting as he took control of the kiss. His hand was sliding up and down your arm and yours were lingering on his cheek and the other over his hand. His fingers clasped yours and the pad of his thumb stroked the top of your hand. 

It wasn’t until the waiter was nearby that your make out session was interrupted. A hue of red painting your cheeks you moved away from Sebastian. The waiter walked closer and placed the food of the table. 

Turning to you and brazenly ignoring Sebastian he asked,

“Mademoiselle, would you like some more wine?”

“I’ll let you know if we need more,” Sebastian replied in a curt manner. 

You watched as the waiter bow and make his way back to the kitchen. 

“Oh is my old man getting all wired up now?” You asked Sebastian teasingly as you let your wandering hands settle on this robust thigh. 

Taking his hand from the table and kissing it, you held it close to your face letting your face rest of his open palm. With both your hands holding onto his hand, you continued,

“Ich werde dich immer lieben und nur dich (I will always love you and only you).”

Sebastian looked back at you lovingly and murmured, “I know. And I love you even more than that liebling.”

After eating and conversing, having time for yourself, you felt like you needed to uplift the mood a little. Plus you were feeling horny with Sebastian looking all worked up. You wouldn’t have minded him taking your right here in front of the waiter that had been eyeing you up all evening. 

Signaling the same waiter to come over to you, who almost too enthusiastically scurried over to you, you placed an order for two tiramisus. 

A walk to the kitchen and back, the waiter came over with a tray of tiramisu and started serving for you and your husband. Sebastian wasn’t pleased at all but since he was sipping on his wine trying really hard to not punch the waiter you took your chance. 

Dipping a finger to the tiramisu you looked back up at the waiter and brought it over to your mouth and licked your finger clean. You watched as the waiters eyes widened as he watched your tongue wrap around your finger licking it squeaky clean. 

“Mmm, this is too sweet for me,” you said as you looked back up at the waiter innocently, “Do you have anything less sweet?”

“W-we have um… cranberry pudding Mademoiselle. The prefect blend… blend of uh… just you know sour and sweet,” the waiter stuttered as you looked back at him with flirtatious eyes. You raised your eyebrow and he continued, “Of course it’s not too sweet. I’ll take this back to the kitchen and bring out a new one immediately.”

Sebastian watched all this unfold right in front of him with a perplexed look on his face. And when the waiter left to return the dessert and bring a new one in, he gave you one stern look and questioned, 

“What the fuck was that liebling?”

You made yourself comfortable on your seat and looked up at him as if you hadn’t just flirted with another in front of your husband.

“What do you mean Seb?”

“Verhalte dich nicht ganz unschuldig (Don’t act all innocent),” he spat back. 

Sighing you replied in a calm tone, “Since you were being a grumpy old man all throughout dinner I thought I needed to find someone else to entertain myself.”

That was all it took for Sebastian to get up from the table, startling you. He grabbed hold of your hand and led you over to the dimly light but spacious washrooms. 

Twisting the lock of the door and making sure no one could come in, he pushed your body over to the counter and kissed you harshly. 

“You think you can act like a schlampe (slut) and get away with it?” Sebastian asked, his mouth leaving a hot trail of kisses down your open neck. 

“I’ll show you what this old man can do.”

Sebastian lifted up your red dress and looked at you with a not so amused look when he realized what you were wearing. 

“Only for you-“

“Oh shut it,” he kissed you with a strong sense of urge, letting his fingers run through your folds and gathering the sweet slick to bring it up to his mouth to taste it. 

“So fucking sweet.”

You felt your face heat up at his dirty comment. Sebastian smirked at the coy look on your face and without any warning plunged his fingers into your hot & wet core. In and out he pulled and pushed his fingers and you lost yourself in the squelch of your pussy. 

“Babe I’m close,” you let your husband know. Sebastian hummed in acknowledgement his lips hovering over your neck and marking small bites all over the expanse of your skin. 

When you came with a sense of relief on his hands, Sebastian wasted no time and pulled out his dick, giving it a few strokes and pushing it into you without warning. You hissed due to the oversensitivity you felt after having cummed a few seconds ago. 

“This feels so good, doesn’t it libeling?” He asked as he slid he steadied himself against you. 

“Hmmm, yes, yes, it feels soo good Sebastian.”

Sebastian railed harder into you, feeling your velvety walls close around him, squeezing him tightly. He grabbed your jaw, making you look at him, your scrunched up eyes now opening up to look back at his bright blue eyes that were now filled with lust. 

“Kiss me,” you whispered. 

The minute the request left your plush lips, his were on yours, making out as he drilled into you. Within a matter of seconds you came undone around him. However, Sebastian was far from close. Pulling out of you, he turned you around. Protests fell from your lips, letting him know that you were oversensitive from having cummed twice, but he simply ignored your pleas knowing you were down bad as much as he was, despite your resistance. 

You held on tight to the edges of the counter top of the fancy washroom the restaurant had. Just then, Seb pushed into you making you drag a sinful moan. Holding tight onto your waist, Sebastian barely showed you any mercy as he drilled into you at a menacing pace. 

“Schau dich an, ganz angezogen, benimmst dich aber gegenüber anderen Männern immer noch wie eine schlampe (Look at you, all dressed up but still acting like a slut for other men),” your husband spat at you. He nibbled onto the shell of your ear as he spat a plethora of profanities into your ear. 

You continuously moaned as Sebastian pushed into you and within the next few seconds you felt yourself letting out a powerful orgasm for the third time that night and your husband’s release coating your insides making you feel giddy like a first time bride. Exhausted as you were, you waited until Seb pulled out of you to turn around and slump onto him. 

He angled your jaw so that you were looking up at him with your tired eyes. Stroking your cheek he teased you, “If only you hadn’t called me an old man and made me jealous in front of that dummer kellner (stupid waiter).”

You smiled and laid your head on his chest, replying back cheekily, “But it was worth it wasn’t me. I haven’t had sex like this for ages Seb. Felt so good.”

“Wait till you get to the hotel then.”

Laughing at the nasty things you were both going to do back at the hotel after being seamless here at the restaurant, Sebastian and you fixed yourselves up and left the restroom. Outside, the waiter who was waiting for your return barely looked you in the eye and Sebastian simply painted a smug smile on his face knowing he had set the “dummer kellner” in his place. 

White Horse - Chapter 22: June 2024 - Part 3

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families, mention of the loss of a parent. Apparently I am once again messing up my chapter numbering on Tumblr. 21 is correct according to AO3 and Wattpad though. No, you didn't miss anything, I promise.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Text Messages: Gianpiero Lambiase & Max Verstappen

GP: Heard about the post-race press. Are you and Belle okay?

Max: I’m fine. Belle’s shaken. Tired. But she’s okay. (ish.)

GP: “Okay-ish” isn’t exactly reassuring, mate.

Max: She’s stronger than she thinks. But it hit her hard. Even after everything… she still hoped they’d see her.

GP: That’s the cruel part. Hope.

Max: Yeah.

GP: Is she at home? You with her?

Max: I am. 

Max: Doesn’t feel like enough.

GP: It’s enough. You’re there. You see her. That’s already more than most have ever done.

Max: She deserves better than this.

GP: She’s got it now. She’s got you.

GP: (and the cats.)

Max: True. Jimmy thinks he’s her bodyguard.

GP: Smart cat.

GP: Tell her we’re all thinking about her, yeah?

Max: I will. Thanks, GP. For checking in.

GP: Always. She’s part of the team now. Whether she likes it or not.

***

The breakfast table was too quiet.

A spread of croissants, jam, fresh fruit, and espresso cups sat untouched in the center of the table—untouched because no one could eat. Lorenzo’s revelation from the day before hung in the air like a thundercloud.

Isabelle had quit her job.

 Months ago.

 Without telling a single one of them.

Charles still hadn’t wrapped his head around it. Isabelle had always loved her work. She breathed design. She stayed up late sketching, doodling floor plans on napkins, whispering ideas into voice memos when she thought no one was listening.

And then one day… she just walked away from it. From them.

Arthur sat with his head in his hands, looking half-murdered by guilt. Pascale was pale and tight-lipped, stirring her tea without drinking it.

“I don’t understand,” Pascale whispered. “How could she just… leave her job? She worked so hard for it.”

“She didn’t just leave,” Lorenzo said, pacing. “She ghosted the entire office. Packed her things in one night. Sent a polite goodbye email. Nothing else.”

“And no one noticed?” Arthur asked, stunned.

“No one bothered to notice,” Charles muttered.

Pascale looked toward Alexandra. “Did you know anything?”

Alexandra hesitated, then straightened a little. “She’s safe.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Charles’s head snapped toward her. “What?”

“I texted Emilie,” Alexandra said, calm but firm. “Isabelle’s best friend. She replied this morning. Said Isabelle is okay.”

A collective breath was held—and slowly released.

“Why didn’t you say that sooner?” Pascale asked, eyes wide.

“Because you were all too busy spiraling,” Alexandra said. “And because Emilie was clear: Isabelle doesn’t want to talk to any of you right now.”

Charles swallowed hard.

“She’s mad,” he said. “Of course she’s mad.”

“She’s not mad,” Alexandra said. “She’s hurt. She’s done. There’s a difference.”

Lorenzo closed his eyes. Arthur muttered something under his breath.

Then Alexandra added, almost absently, “She’s not alone. Emilie said her boyfriend likes taking care of her.”

A beat of stunned silence.

“Oh my god,” Arthur muttered. “She has a sugar daddy.”

Charlotte choked on her orange juice.

Pascale actually dropped her spoon.

“Arthur!” Alexandra hissed, scandalized.

Arthur looked wildly between them. “Think about it! Moved out. Quit her job. No one knows where she is. Isabelle’s always been quiet, not mysterious. What if she—”

“No. No,” Charles said quickly, shaking his head like that would erase the words from the room. “She wouldn’t. Isabelle is not like that.”

“People change when they feel abandoned,” Arthur muttered, clearly spiraling now. “This is how Netflix documentaries start.”

“I will kill whoever that man is,” Charles muttered, eyes narrowing like he was already imagining chasing someone through the Monaco harbor with a champagne bottle.

“I’m just saying,” Arthur hissed, “stranger things have happened! And let’s not pretend we’re not a family of unresolved emotional issues. We all have daddy issues!”

A beat of stunned silence.

Then Pascale, horror dawning on her face, said, “Excuse me?!”

Arthur looked up, mid-sip of juice. “What?”

Pascale blinked, stunned. “Since when?!”

Arthur just stared at her. “I mean, come on. Dad died when we were kids, Charles is out here trying to win his approval from the afterlife, I started karting again like I have something to prove, and Isabelle— Isabelle moved in with a mysterious man and quit her job because he "likes taking care of her!"

“Oh my God,” Pascale said faintly, sinking into her chair.

“Okay, this is going off the rails,” Alexandra groaned.

Lorenzo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Arthur, this is not about your unresolved need for paternal validation.”

Arthur shrugged helplessly. “I was just trying to explain that maybe Isabelle was looking for emotional stability and someone gave it to her. And maybe he also had a good skincare routine and a yacht. I don’t know.”

“She moved in with her boyfriend,” Lorenzo said sharply. “Not a sugar daddy. Her boyfriend. That’s what her old neighbor said. She left the firm. Left her apartment. But she didn’t run away. She just stopped waiting to be seen.”

Arthur groaned, slumping in his seat. “We didn’t even know she had a boyfriend.”

“Because she didn’t tell us,” Charles said bitterly. “Because she stopped expecting us to care.”

“Or because she knew you were going to freak out.” Charlotte murmured.

Charles raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

Charlotte looked up, startled. “What?”

“You said that like you know something.”

Charlotte hesitated. “I don’t know anything.”

“Charlotte,” Lorenzo warned.

She shifted. “It’s just—she’s always been around racing. She used to hang around the paddock all the time. If she was seeing someone, I wouldn’t be shocked if it was someone from the grid.”

Silence.

Then Arthur: “Wait. You’re saying she could be dating someone we know?”

Charlotte winced. “I said maybe. Don’t start spiraling.”

“I’M ALREADY SPIRALING,” Charles announced.

Alexandra sighed, sipping her coffee. “And now we’ve entered the panic phase.”

Arthur leaned back, muttering, “If it’s Fernando I swear to God—”

Pascale clapped her hands together. “Enough.”

But Charles barely heard her.

Because if Belle was dating someone from the paddock…

Then there were nineteen men it could be, currently on the grid.

And not one of them had said a word.

***

Group Chat: GRID 2024 

Members: Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr., Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Logan Sergeant, Daniel Ricciardo, Nico Hülkenberg, Lance Stroll, Fernando Alonso, Sergio Pérez, Esteban Ocon, Zhou Guanyu, Logan Sargeant, Pierre Gasly, Yuki Tsunoda, and Valtteri Bottas

Charles: SOMEONE TELL ME

 Who is dating my sister??

Charles: IS IT FERNANDO?? Are you her sugar daddy?? Just tell me. I need answers.

Fernando: Pardon?

Lewis: Oh we’re doing this.

George: Charles, breathe.

Oscar: You’re spiraling. Please stop.

Pierre: Wait WHAT??

Yuki: I feel like I’ve walked into the last five minutes of a telenovela

Fernando: Charles. I’m flattered. But no.

Charles: OK FINE. MAX. Charles:  IS SHE DATING JOS?!

Logan: …bro

George: I need to leave this chat forever

Lando: oh my god

Max: What. Did. You. Just. Say.

Charles: I don’t know, okay?? Everyone’s being weird. She’s gone, she moved, she quit her job, no one’s telling me anything and YOU’RE ALL BEING WEIRD.

Max: Don’t you ever say something like that again.

Max: Not as a joke. Not out of panic. Not ever.

Max: Belle is your sister, Charles. She deserved your attention, your support, your respect—and she didn’t get any of it. Max: And now you want to cover up your guilt by making a disgusting joke like that?

George: Whoa.

Charles: It’s not a joke! She smiled at him during Monaco!

Max: You forgot her birthday. You forgot her entire life outside of your world. And now you’re so desperate to catch up you’re throwing shit against the wall like it doesn’t have consequences?

Oscar: He’s right. That was low, man.

Lando: Way out of line.

Max:  You’re panicking and flinging names around like this is a soap opera, and you’re forgetting that this isn’t about you.

Carlos: He’s right.

Max: Belle isn’t your property. She doesn’t owe you updates of her life. And the fact that your first instinct is to accuse my father of something that insane? That tells me everything I need to know about where your priorities are.

Max: You’re not trying to protect her. You’re trying to control the fallout of your own guilt.

Alex: Oof.

Oscar: He’s not wrong.

Lando: I mean, he’s definitely not wrong.

Daniel: That was… surgical.

Max: You forgot her birthday. You didn’t realise she moved or that she quit her job. And now that it’s all blowing up in your face, you’re treating your sister like a scandal to manage instead of a woman who deserves better than you’ve given her for years.

Charles: Max…

Max Verstappen: Don’t. You had every chance to show up. And you didn’t.

Oscar: …Well. That was the cleanest emotional takedown I’ve ever witnessed.

Pierre: I’m afraid to even type right now.

Alex: Respectfully, that needed to be said.

Lewis: Sometimes silence is the most respectful response. And sometimes it’s watching Max drop a nuke and sipping your tea.

Charles: … I’m sorry.

Max: Don’t say sorry to me. Say it to her.

Daniel: And maybe do it without accusing her of having a sugar daddy next time.

Fernando: Sincerely never thought I’d be defending Jos Verstappen’s honor in a group chat. And yet. Here we are.

Pierre: Did we all just witness character development in real time?

Oscar:  No, we witnessed Max finally snap.

Carlos: Honestly? Fair.

Max: Now if you’ll excuse me, my wife wants to go see her horse. 

***

Group Chat: HELP ME

 (Members: Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Lewis Hamilton, Carlos Sainz Jr., George Russell, Alex Albon, Nico Hulkenberg, Nico Rosberg, Sebastian Vettel, Mark Webber, David Coulthard, Sergio Pérez, Fernando Alonso, Kimi Räikkönen, Zhou Guanyu, Logan Sergeant, Esteban Ocon, Lance Stroll and Valtteri Bottas)

Oscar: (sends screenshots) Are we gonna talk about that??

Lando: I don’t think I’ll ever emotionally recover.

George: That wasn’t an argument. That was Max opening a precision-cut emotional autopsy on Charles.

Daniel: Surgical strike. Zero survivors.

Carlos: I think I stopped breathing somewhere between “not your property” and “scandal to manage.”

Alex: And he still managed to slip in “my wife” at the end like it was casual.

Lewis: Subtle as a sledgehammer. Iconic.

Sebastian: Imagine standing that close to the truth and just completely going off the deep end. JOS VERSTAPPEN?!?!

David: Charles is lucky we’re not recording this for Drive to Survive. This would be season finale material.

Fernando: Still recovering from the fact that I had to defend Jos Verstappen’s honor today. Truly humbling times.

Mark: Also Max casually confirming "wife" like we didn’t hear that bomb drop.

Lando: The whole chat: staring at “my wife” like: [INSERT SHOCKED PIKACHU MEME]

Logan: Also Max: anyway gtg horseback riding with Belle bye

George: Meanwhile we’re left here emotionally blinking like stunned goldfish.

Zhou: Respectfully? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in a group chat.

Logan: He read Charles’ whole life like it was a menu.

Esteban: No crumbs left. Truly an artist.

Lewis: I hope Belle gives Max a damn medal.

Carlos: It’s what he deserves.

Lando Norris: At this point Max could straight up declare war on Monaco and all of us would follow him.

Nico H.: Only if Belle asks nicely though.

Fernando: Honestly, after that? She deserves her own Grand Prix.

Sebastian: Belle Verstappen GP. Street circuit. Emotional trauma bonus points.

David: Winner gets emotional literacy and a free hug.

Lando: Charles gets last place. Obv.

Oscar: Someone check on Charles, though. Like... at a distance. With caution.

George: Give him a juice box and a reflective corner.

Lewis: He needs to sit with this one. You’re up, Seb.

Sebastian: I hate you.

Carlos: And next time?  Maybe start by actually listening to Belle. and not accuse her of having a sugar daddy.

Oscar: Can we also talk about how Charles accused Fernando of being Belle’s sugar daddy?!?

Lando: No because I actually SCREAMED when I read it Out loud. In a public place.

George: Charles really said “if the unhinged shoe fits…”

Lewis: Fernando being asked if he’s the sugar daddy of a 25-year-old woman live in a chat is peak 2024.

Daniel: The best part is Fernando didn’t even deny it immediately. He said “pardon” like a man trying to calculate if this was a compliment or an insult.

Fernando: I was genuinely weighing my options.

Logan: He 100% thought about it for a second Did the math in his head Age difference analysis

Carlos: He pulled out a mental calculator before answering.

Alex: Plot twist: he was flattered.

Fernando: I am flattered.

Logan: ARE YOU NOT TOO OLD FOR THIS SIR

Fernando: Age is just a number. Experience is a blessing.

David: Shut up you're scaring the children

Daniel: I'm crying. This man is two bad decisions away from opening a luxury wine bar in Marbella.

Zhou: Would 100% attend Fernando’s shady rich sugar daddy wine parties tbh.

George: You know somewhere there's an alternate universe where Fernando is soft-launching Belle on Instagram with a blurry wine glass and a cryptic caption.

Sebastian: Don’t manifest that energy.

Lewis: The timeline barely survived Charles forgetting her birthday We are NOT surviving "Fernando Alonso soft launches Belle Verstappen."

Oscar: Good morning to everyone except Charles for inventing this nightmare.

Carlos: He should be banned from texting before noon.

Daniel: Imagine Belle reading that conversation The secondhand embarrassment would kill her instantly

Lando: Max would bury Charles under the Red Bull Energy Station if Belle found out

Fernando: That’s why I stayed calm. For everyone’s safety.

David: You’re a better man than I am.

George: Let’s be honest Max’s entire speech wasn’t just a takedown It was a warning.

Lewis: And Charles still doesn’t realize how close he was to emotional decapitation.

Daniel: Fernando being accidentally involved will forever be my Roman Empire

Lando: Same. Sugar Daddy Alonso 2024 Never Forget.

Kimi: I don’t care.

Fernando: Good. One sane man among us.

Mark: Honestly Kimi deserves a medal for surviving this chat with brain cells intact.

Lando: Meanwhile I’m Googling “how to recover from emotional whiplash" and "can you sue your friend for public embarrassment.”

Oscar: Suing Charles for pain and suffering. Class action.

Lewis: Count me in.

Daniel: Put me down for emotional damages and lost productivity.

Carlos: And mental anguish from hearing "Jos" and "sugar daddy" in the same sentence.

George Russell: I’m still trying to bleach my brain from that.

Sebastian Vettel: The worst part is… We know it’s only going to get worse.

Valtteri: Spain is going to be the emotional equivalent of a demolition derby and I'm here for it…

Oscar: Prayers up for Charles. He’s about to get hit with the reality sledgehammer.

***

The air smelled like sun-warmed hay and old wood and something softer — something Max couldn’t name but recognized instantly as peace.

The stables weren’t far from the city — a quiet, tucked-away stretch of land up in the hills — but it might as well have been another world compared to the chaos vibrating through the paddock, the media, the group chats.

Belle was already a few steps ahead of him, moving with easy, instinctive confidence down the center aisle. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, and she wore one of his oversized hoodies over her jeans, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Even in battered sneakers, even in dusty sunlight, she looked luminous.

This, Max thought, is who she really is.

Not the invisible sister standing silently in the Ferrari garage.

 Not the afterthought.

 Not the forgotten one.

Here, among the horses and the golden dust motes, Belle was someone else entirely. Someone free.

He watched as she reached Fleur’s stall — the mare with the soft eyes and white coat — and the change in her was immediate. Belle’s whole body softened. Her voice dropped into something low and sweet, barely a whisper, as she murmured to the horse in French, offering a gentle hand.

Fleur pressed her nose into Belle’s palm like she had been waiting for her all day.

Max stayed back, leaning against a beam, just… watching.

Belle ran her fingers through the mare’s mane, smiling quietly when Fleur nosed into her ribs for a treat. She laughed, soft and breathless, pulling a carrot from her pocket like she’d always known it would be needed.

Max felt something hot coil under his ribs.

Not anger. Not yet.

Something heavier.

Because standing there, watching her, Max didn’t understand — and probably never would — how the people who were supposed to love her first and fiercest could have ever made her feel like this side of her wasn’t worth seeing.

How did you miss this?

 How did you miss her?

How could you look at Belle — at her patience, her stubbornness, her gentleness — and think she was someone it was okay to forget?

Max didn't know how Charles or Pascale or Arthur or even Lorenzo could live with themselves.

She had been right there, waving from the garage, smiling through being overlooked, standing quietly beside them her whole life — and they’d blinked, and she was gone.

He didn’t know if they'd ever get her back, not in the way they thought they were entitled to.

 And maybe they didn’t deserve to.

Max shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling the steady beat of his own pulse against his knuckles. He wasn’t angry on his own behalf — he was angry for her. For every memory she had where she learned she needed to be small to survive. For every year she thought invisibility was safer than asking for more.

But here — here, she didn’t shrink herself.

Here, she was all soft light and warm hands and quiet magic.

He watched as Belle rested her forehead against Fleur’s, closing her eyes. Whispering something Max couldn’t hear.

He didn’t move.

He would wait forever if it meant she never had to be small again.

When she finally turned toward him, cheeks flushed, hair tangled in the breeze, Max just smiled — slow and sure — and opened his arms without a word.

Belle crossed the space between them like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And when she folded herself against his chest, Max pressed his mouth to the top of her head and thought, fiercely, I will never let you feel invisible again.

Not here. Not with him.

Never.

***

Belle sat curled into the armchair, hands knotted in the hem of her sweater. Her phone buzzed on the low table beside her — again — and she flinched without meaning to.

She didn’t pick it up. She hadn’t read any of them. Not a single message.

Across from her, Simone sat, notebook closed, pen resting untouched on the armrest. She didn’t need notes yet. She was just watching — waiting for Belle to breathe first.

"You don’t have to," Simone said finally, nodding toward the phone. "We can leave it buzzing all session if you want. This is your hour."

Belle looked down at her hands.

"I don’t know what they want," she said, voice thin. "I don’t know if I want to know."

"That's a choice," Simone said simply. "It’s your choice."

Belle twisted the hem tighter. "They keep calling. Texting. DMing. It’s like... once Charles realized, they all remembered I exist."

"That realization isn’t yours to carry," Simone said. "You didn’t make yourself invisible. They chose not to see you."

“You haven’t answered,” Simone asked, her voice even…non-judgemental.

Belle shook her head, pressing the rim of the mug tighter against her palms.

“I don’t know if I want to,” Belle whispered.

Simone leaned forward slightly. “You’re allowed to make that choice, Belle. Access to your life — your heart — isn’t something anyone is automatically entitled to. Not even family.”

Belle blinked hard.

“It feels… wrong,” she admitted. “Like I’m being cruel. But also like… maybe it’s finally protecting myself.”

Simone nodded. “Both can be true.”

They sat with that for a moment, letting the air between them settle.

"I feel like if I open one message, I’ll lose the ground I gained," she whispered. "Like they'll pull me back in before I even realize it."

Simone nodded slowly. "That fear is real. It’s valid. But remember — reading a message doesn’t obligate you to answer. They don’t get to set the terms anymore. You do."

Belle sat with that for a long moment, staring at the phone like it was a bomb she didn't know how to disarm.

"You can read what they have to say," Simone continued gently, "and then decide how much access you want to give them. How much of yourself you want to offer back. Or none at all.  But the decision has to come from a place of power — not guilt."

Belle swallowed hard, something inside her cracking open.

"I don’t want to live my life shrinking," she said, so quietly it barely made it into the room.

"You don’t have to," Simone said simply. "You’re allowed to grow bigger than the spaces they built for you."

Belle wiped under her eyes, feeling the tears spill anyway.

"I’m pregnant," she said, almost impulsively, almost defensively — like the words had been trying to claw their way out of her for days.

Simone didn’t react, didn’t widen her eyes or gasp or rush forward.

She just smiled, slow and warm.

"Congratulations," Simone said.

Belle let out a shaky laugh, covering her face for a moment.

"I haven’t told most people yet," she admitted. "It’s... still just mine and Max’s, mostly. But I—"

She broke off, chest tight.

"I don’t want my baby to feel the way I felt," Belle whispered. "Invisible. Like they have to earn love. Like being quiet or not causing trouble makes them easier to keep around."

Simone nodded slowly. "You don’t want them to feel like they have to disappear to be safe."

Belle’s throat closed. That was it. That was everything.

"I want them to know," Belle said, tears slipping freely now. "Every second. That they matter. That they are wanted."

"You can give them that," Simone said gently. "Because you know what it feels like to need it."

Belle hugged her knees tighter to her chest, breathing in slow, ragged pulls.

"I don't know if I can be enough," she whispered.

"You already are," Simone said simply. "You're enough because you see them. The way you should have been seen."

Belle wiped her face roughly with her sleeve, heart pounding painfully against her ribs.

Simone leaned in just a little, voice steady.

"You get to break the cycle," she said. "Not by being perfect. Not by fixing everything. But by loving without conditions."

Belle stared down at her belly, still barely showing under the oversized sweater. A secret, soft and growing.

Not alone anymore.

Not invisible.

Not shrinking to fit someone else's version of worth.

She exhaled shakily.

"I think," Belle said slowly, "I’ll read the messages. Because it’s my choice now."

Simone smiled. "Exactly."

Belle sat back in the chair, letting the silence settle.

For the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel heavy.

It felt like freedom.

***

The cats were asleep — a warm, purring pile on the foot of the bed — and the only sound in the room was the hum of the city beyond the windows and the soft rustle of Max shifting beside her.

Belle sat curled up in the corner of the bed, Max’s hoodie swallowing her whole, the phone clutched in both hands.

She hadn’t wanted to look. Not at the missed calls. Not at the voicemails. Not at the dozens of unread messages blinking like warning lights across every app she had.

But now… Now she read them.

One by one.

Apologies. Explanations. Pleading.

Arthur. Lorenzo. Charles.

And Maman. Always Maman.

Maman:Ma chérie… I didn’t realise. I thought I messaged you, but I sent it to Charles by mistake. That’s not an excuse. You deserved more. Always. Please let me come see you. I miss you.

Belle stared at the words, blinking back the slow, stunned weight building behind her eyes.

Because if her mother had texted Charles that morning — if she had thought about Belle enough to even try — then Charles would have known.

He would have remembered.

There wouldn’t have been blank stares in the Ferrari garage.

 There wouldn’t have been celebrations swirling around her while she stood still, invisible.

There would have been a smile.

 A hug.

 A word.

Anything.

But there hadn’t been.

Because her mother hadn’t texted.

Not her.

And not Charles.

She hadn’t thought about her at all.

Belle felt the first tear slip free before she could stop it. Then another. And another.

Her hands shook as she lowered the phone to her lap.

She pressed her knuckles against her mouth, willing herself to breathe, to hold it together — but the ache was too deep. Too old. It cracked open the quiet places she thought she had stitched shut months ago.

The mattress dipped beside her, and Max’s arms were around her before she could say a word.

No questions. No demands. Just solid, unwavering Max, pulling her into his chest, pressing his chin to the crown of her head, wrapping her up like he could protect her from everything the world had failed to.

Belle buried her face in his hoodie and cried — deep, broken, shuddering sobs that shook her ribs and soaked the cotton between them.

Max held her through all of it. Rocked her gently like she was something precious. Whispered soft, fierce things into her hair — I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.

When the tears finally slowed — when Belle could breathe without gasping — she shifted just enough to look up at him.

“She lied to me,” Belle whispered, voice barely above a breath.

Max tensed, not pulling away, but going still — like a storm gathering quietly over open water.

Belle twisted the fabric of his hoodie between her fingers, needing something to hold onto. “My mother. In her messages. She said… she said she thought she had texted me on my birthday. That she checked and realized she sent it to Charles instead.”

Max didn’t say anything.

 Not yet.

He just waited.

“But if she had really texted Charles,” Belle said, blinking hard, “then he would have remembered. Wouldn’t he?”

Max’s jaw tightened against her forehead.

“He would have realized when he saw me. He would have known it was my day.”

 Belle swallowed thickly. “He would have said something. Anything.”

She felt Max’s hand, slow and careful, run up her spine — like he was grounding himself as much as her.

“They didn’t forget by accident, Max,” she whispered, the crack in her voice slicing the room in half. “They just… didn’t think about me at all. And now she’s lying to make herself feel better. Or maybe to make me not be angry anymore.”

There was a long, vibrating pause.

When Max finally spoke, his voice was low. Dangerous.

“She lied to you." Not angry for himself. Angry for her.

“She lied to your face to protect her own feelings,” he said, tightening his grip around her protectively. “And she didn’t even think about what it would do to you.”

Belle didn’t trust herself to speak.

“She didn’t check,” Max said, every word precise and sharp. “She didn’t text you. She forgot you. And now she wants you to comfort her guilt so she doesn’t have to sit with the truth.”

Belle closed her eyes, tucking herself deeper into his chest.

Max’s voice dropped even lower. Colder. Deadlier.

“They don’t deserve to be the ones to tell you how much you matter, Belle,” he said. “Not when they couldn’t even see you standing right in front of them.”

Belle felt herself break apart a little more — not because of the anger in his voice, but because of the fierce, unyielding love underneath it.

Max pulled back just enough to tip her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“They can lie to themselves all they want,” he said, voice rough. “But you’re not invisible anymore. You never were. You are the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever seen.”

Belle tried to smile but it broke halfway through, another tear slipping free.

Max kissed her — not rushed, not desperate — but slow and sure and reverent.

“I see you,” he murmured against her mouth. “I will always see you.”

Belle clutched his hoodie tighter, feeling the words stitch into the broken places inside her chest.

And when she whispered, “Thank you,” it was the kind of thank you that carried a lifetime of hope she hadn’t known how to say before now.

Max brushed her forehead with his lips, arms still wrapped firmly around her.

***

The apartment was dark except for the soft glow of the city outside the windows, and the faint golden light spilling from the kitchen where Max was making tea.

The cats were already asleep, draped dramatically across the couch like tiny emperors, and Belle sat curled up at the dining table, phone in hand.

Her thumb hovered over the Instagram app for a long time.

She hadn’t posted anything in weeks. Maybe longer. Not since before everything cracked open — before her birthday…

It felt strange, almost dangerous, to think about letting the world see even a piece of her life again. To stop living like she needed to apologize for taking up space.

But she was tired. 

She was tired of pretending her life was something to be ashamed of.

She was tired of being invisible.

 Of hiding her joy like it was a crime.

She tapped into her camera roll.

The photo was simple. Max had taken it — taken earlier that afternoon, in the warm haze of the stables. Fleur was grazing and Belle’s arm was tucked around her neck, leaning against the warm white fur.

It wasn’t a professional shot.

 It wasn’t curated.

 It was real.

And for once, Belle didn’t care about anything else.

She clicked ‘post’ before she could talk herself out of it.

Caption:Some things were always meant to find their way back to you.

She stared at it for a moment, heart hammering — not with fear, but with something quieter. Something steadier.

Not everyone would understand.

Most wouldn’t even know what it meant.

But the people who mattered — the ones who knew her, who loved her — they would understand exactly what she was saying.

Max’s voice floated from the kitchen, casual and warm. “You want mint or chamomile?”

Belle smiled softly to herself.

“Mint,” she called back, slipping her phone onto the table, feeling lighter than she had in months.

No more hiding.

No more shrinking.

Her life was hers now.

 And she was finally — finally — ready to live it.

***

Instagram Post: @/isabelleleclerc

Comments:

@/charles_leclerc: …From where did you get a horse??

@/arthur_leclerc: ??? SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE A HORSE AGAIN???

@/lorenzo_leclerc: Since when are you even riding again??

@/charles_leclerc: Isabelle. Please answer your phone.

@/arthur_leclerc: PLEASE RESPOND.

@/randomfan72: THE WAY SHE JUST DROPPED THIS WITHOUT CONTEXT???

@/f1updates: Isabelle disappearing for a week and then coming back with a horse is the most iconic thing I’ve seen in a while.

@/f1fanpage: Okay, but WHO GAVE HER A HORSE???

@/monacoroyalty: Isabelle casually revealing that she has a whole horse like it’s a new handbag is sending me.

@/gridgossip: He/she’s gorgeous! What’s their name? ↪ @/isabelleleclerc: Fleur ❤️ She’s a 7 year old Selle Francais mare. 

@/emilie_abadie: God, Belle, she looks just like Blanche…

↪ @/isabelleleclerc: Like Mother, like Daughter ❤️

@/coralie.g: She looks like your childhood horse… 

↪ @/isabelleleclerc: Because she’s her last foal 😭 

@/horselover99: Omg did you always plan to start riding again? 🥹 ↪ @/isabelleleclerc: I never stopped wanting to. Just couldn’t afford to for a long time.

@/victorialaps: This is so random but… how did you even find her? ↪ @/isabelleleclerc: I didn’t. She was a gift. Best surprise ever.

@/f1updates: WAIT WAIT WAIT.

@/f1theories: GIFT?? FROM WHO??

***

The tea had just finished steeping when Max’s phone buzzed once. Then again. And again.

He frowned, setting down the mugs. It wasn’t like his phone to light up at midnight unless something dramatic had happened — and judging by the flood of notifications, the world had just decided to catch fire.

But when he flipped it over, his chest tightened in a very different way.

It wasn’t chaos. It wasn’t panic.

It was Belle.

Her name. Her Instagram. A new post.

Max opened it instantly, barely breathing.

The photo was simple, quiet — Fleur leaning into Belle’s hand, golden light painting everything soft around them.

But it wasn’t the picture that hit him hardest.

It was the caption.

some things are always meant to come back to you.

Max stared at the screen, heart thudding slow and heavy in his chest.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t a declaration.

It was a quiet, stubborn reclaiming of everything Belle had once been taught to hide — her dreams, her peace, her self.

And she hadn’t asked permission.

She hadn't needed anyone’s blessing.

She had simply... posted it.

Without apology.

 Without explanation.

Max set the phone down, grabbed both mugs carefully, and crossed the living room to where Belle sat curled up at the table, her knees tucked under her, the soft edges of exhaustion lingering around her eyes.

She looked up when she heard him, tentative, like part of her was still braced for criticism she didn’t deserve.

Max didn’t say a word.

He placed the tea down. Then he crouched in front of her, sliding his hands over her knees, resting his forehead gently against hers.

No words. Just this.

Just I'm proud of you.

Belle let out a soft, shaky breath, her hand sliding into his hair, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her tethered — because sometimes, he was.

“You saw it?” she whispered.

Max smiled against her skin.

“I saw everything,” he murmured. “And I see you, liefde. Always.”

Belle’s breath hitched.

She closed her eyes and let herself believe it — let herself soak in the truth of it without second-guessing.

She wasn’t invisible here.

She was home.

And Max — Max was exactly where he had always promised he would be:

Right here. Always. With her.

***

Leclerc Family Group Chat

(Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles, Lorenzo and Pascale)

Arthur: Shared Isabelle’s Instagram post

Arthur: …So. Uh.

Arthur: When were you guys planning on telling me that Isabelle suddenly has a HORSE?

Charles: SHE HAS A WHAT.

Lorenzo: Excuse me??

Arthur: A horse, Lorenzo. A living, breathing, four-legged animal. You know. Like the one that was sold when she was a teenager.

Charles: No. No way. That’s not possible.

Arthur: Look at the photo. LOOK AT IT.

Charles: It looks exactly like Blanche.

Lorenzo: That’s not possible.

Arthur: AND YET.

Lorenzo: Okay. Okay. Let’s just—think about this logically.

Arthur: Sure. Logically. Isabelle now has a horse that looks IDENTICAL to the one that was sold to pay for Charles' karting?!?!

Arthur: LOGICALLY, how does that make any sense?!

Charles: Who gave her a horse?

Arthur: WHO KNEW SHE STILL WANTED ONE???

Lorenzo: …Clearly, not us.

Pascale: …We should have known.

Arthur: …Maman?

Pascale: We took away something she loved.

Pascale: And then we never gave it back.

Charles: We didn’t have the money.

Pascale: No. But when we did have the money, we put it into restarting Arthur’s karting career.

Arthur: …

Charles: …

Lorenzo: Merde.

Pascale: And we never even considered doing the same for Isabelle.

Pascale: Not once.

Arthur: I—Maman, I didn’t even think—

Pascale: No. None of us did.

Pascale: She cried for weeks when we sold Blanche. And then, one day, she just stopped talking about it.

Pascale: I thought she had let it go.

Charles: She didn’t let it go. She just realized no one was listening.

Pascale: And I, her own mother, let her believe that if it wasn’t about racing, it wasn’t important.

Lorenzo: We all did.

Arthur: We failed her.

Pascale: And yet she still loved us enough to stay.

Pascale: Even when we didn’t see her.

Charles: We need to fix this.

Arthur: Step one: find out who gave her the horse.

Pascale: Step one: apologize.

Arthur: Step two: figure out how we didn’t even KNOW she was riding again.

Lorenzo: When would she have had the time?

Pascale: She found a way. Because we didn’t give her one.

Pascale: Do you know what hurts the most?

Charles: What?

Pascale: That I don’t even know what kind of life she’s been living.

Pascale: What she loves. Where she goes. Who she spends time with.

Pascale: She grew up right in front of me, and I don’t know her at all.

Arthur: …How do we fix this?

Pascale: I don’t know if we can. ****

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1TeaSpillerIsabelle Leclerc just casually dropped a photo of a whole horse on Instagram, and her brothers had NO IDEA she was even riding again. The family drama is writing itself.

↳ @/LandoSimp44: How do you not notice your sister getting into an expensive, time-consuming hobby???

↳ @/FerrariF1Stan: Maybe because they’ve never paid attention to her interests in the first place…??

↳ @/LeclercFanGirl16: Charles and Arthur are spiraling in the comments, Lorenzo is confused, and Isabelle is just out here ignoring them all. QUEEN.

@/F1GossipGirlHold on. Isabelle didn’t just get any horse. If I’m reading this correctly, this foal is from her childhood horse. The one her family SOLD.

↳ @/MaxForPresident33: Oh, so she’s still THAT angry. And honestly? Good for her.

↳ @/RedBullRacingUpdates: The way she’s been quiet for two whole weeks and then dropped a horse like a bombshell?? I need to know who gave it to her.

↳ @/FerrariDramaAccount: Isabelle’s silence has been screaming for a week straight, and now this. The Leclerc brothers are doomed.

@/F1MemeLordLeclerc brothers: "We totally care about our sister." Also the Leclerc brothers: Completely unaware she’s been riding again and now owns a horse.

↳ @/CharlesFanClub: Yeah, Isabelle is 100% still mad. She really said, "You forgot my birthday? Watch this."

↳ ​​@/MonacoMess: Isabelle is SO passive-aggressive and I respect it.

↳ @/HorseGirlFC: I just KNOW she’s been waiting for the perfect moment to drop this. Iconic behavior.

@/F1InsiderTalk: No, but real talk—if her brothers had no idea she was even riding again, that means they haven’t been paying attention to her at all. That’s rough.

↳ @/TifosiQueen: She had a birthday and they forgot. Now she has a whole damn horse and they didn’t even know she still liked horses.

↳ @/MonacoGossip: Isabelle could disappear to another continent, and I swear they wouldn’t notice until someone tagged them in an Instagram post.

↳ @/ArthurFan27: I love Arthur, but the way none of them know anything about her is actually kind of sad.

@/ChaosModeF1I just KNOW Isabelle had this horse for a bit before dropping it like a bomb on Instagram. The drama, the suspense, the Leclerc brothers losing their minds in real time.

↳ @/MaxVerstappenDefenseSquad: The fact that she didn’t post anything about her birthday but came back with a horse tells me everything I need to know.

↳@/FerrariWoes: I feel like this was the final straw moment.

@/RedBullTroll33Okay, but WHO gave her the horse? Because that’s a serious gift.

↳@/ F1ConspiracyClub: If it was Charles or Arthur, they wouldn’t be so confused in the comments. If it was Lorenzo, he wouldn’t be freaking out too.

↳ @/FerrariPain42: Soooo… secret boyfriend? 👀

↳@/F1ShippersAnonymous: If this turns out to be a soft launch, I WILL lose my mind.

@/MonacoRoyaltyI don’t know who gave Isabelle Leclerc a horse, but I do know that person knows her better than her own family does.

↳ @/FerrariNation: …Damn. That’s actually heartbreaking when you put it like that.

↳ @/IsabelleLeclercDefenseSquad: She really just had to go out and find people who see her, huh?

↳ @/WhoGaveHerAHorse33: Someone get me the details. NOW.

@/F1ChaosModeThe funniest part of this is that Isabelle still hasn’t responded to any of her brothers. Just posted her horse and dipped.

↳ @/LeclercFamilyUpdates: The sheer level of pettiness. I love her.

↳ @/TifosiHeartbreak: Isabelle really said you forgot me, so now I’m forgetting you.

↳ @/FerrariShambles: I want a documentary about the exact moment Charles realized they were bad brothers.

@/F1SpicyTeaI know we’re all laughing, but this actually makes me so sad for Isabelle. Imagine your whole family forgetting your birthday, ignoring you for years, and then being SHOCKED when you move on with your life.

↳ @/MonacoMess: They didn’t even know she still loved horses. 

↳ @/FerrariF1Pain: The worst part? She didn’t even make a dramatic callout post about her birthday. She just let their silence speak for itself.

↳ @/TifosiAngstClub: She is the human embodiment of "I no longer expect anything from you."

@/F1ConspiracyClubIsabelle didn’t just buy this horse. Somebody gave it to her, according to her. Whoever they are, they know her better than her entire family.

↳ @/SoftLaunchDetective: If this is a secret boyfriend reveal, it’s the most dramatic and poetic one I’ve ever seen.

@/MonacoRoyalty: Isabelle Leclerc is the queen of quiet revenge. No loud callouts. No arguments. Just a perfectly timed Instagram post that says everything.

↳ @/FerrariTears: And the best part? Her brothers are LOSING IT in the comments.

↳ @/ArthurLeclercDefenseSquad: Arthur is panicking like she’s about to disappear forever.

↳ @/CharlesHasNoClue: Charles sounds like he’s five seconds away from personally investigating who gave her the horse.

↳ @/TifosiDetectives: The thing is, they should know. But they don’t.

@/TifosiMess: So let me get this straight:

Isabelle’s family forgot her birthday.

She disappeared for two weeks.

Charles finally remembers that he has a sister. 

Isabelle comes back with a horse.

Drops it on Instagram like it’s a casual Tuesday.

Her brothers have no idea where it came from.

I am obsessed with this timeline.

↳ @/FerrariAngst: I’m still stuck on "they didn’t even know she was riding again."

↳ @/CharlesNeedsHelp: The way they suddenly care now that it’s public.

@/F1SoftLaunchDetective: I’ll say it. Whoever gave her the horse loves her more than her own family does.

↳ @/FerrariHeartbreak: And that’s why the Leclerc brothers are panicking.

↳ @/RedBullInsider: Just waiting for the next phase of this drama. I know something bigger is coming.

↳ @/TifosiConspiracies: I have a gut feeling that when we find out who got her the horse, the internet will EXPLODE.

***

Text Messages: Arthur Leclerc & Belle Verstappen

Arthur: I don’t really know how to start this.

Arthur: But I guess the first thing I need to say is—I’m sorry.

Arthur: I keep thinking about when I had to stop karting. How devastated I was. How unfair it felt.

Arthur: You know, when I was younger, I used to think we were the same.

Arthur: We both lost something for Charles. We both had to step aside.

Arthur: But the difference is, I got my second chance.

Arthur: And you never did.

Arthur: They gave me my dream back. But nobody ever thought to give you yours.

Arthur: And the worst part is, I never even thought about it.

Arthur: I was so focused on getting my own dream back that I never stopped to ask if you wanted yours.

Arthur: Or if you were even okay.

Arthur: I remember when they sold Blanche. You locked yourself in your room for days. Maman kept saying you’d get over it.

Arthur: But you never did, did you?

Arthur: I should have noticed. I should have asked.

Arthur: I should have known that you never stopped loving it. That you never moved on just because we assumed you did.

Arthur: But we never gave you a choice, did we?

Arthur: You were always the one who had to sacrifice something. You were always the one who had to step aside.

Arthur: And I never even thought about how much that must have hurt.

Arthur: I let myself believe you were fine because it was easier than realizing we left you behind.

Arthur: When I saw that horse, I thought my heart stopped. She looks just like Blanche.

Arthur: I had to read your post three times before it sank in. That you never let go of that part of yourself. That you found your way back.

Arthur: And none of us even knew.

Arthur: I don’t know where to start making this right. I don’t know if I even can.

Arthur: I don’t expect you to answer me. I don’t even know if I deserve an answer.

Arthur: But Isabelle, if there is even the smallest chance that I can fix this, that I can fix us—

Arthur: Tell me how. And I’ll do it.

Arthur: No hesitation. No questions asked.

Arthur: Je suis désolé, petite sœur.

Arthur: And I miss you.

***

Group Chat: HELP ME

 (Members: Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Lewis Hamilton, Carlos Sainz Jr., George Russell, Alex Albon, Nico Hulkenberg, Nico Rosberg, Sebastian Vettel, Mark Webber, David Coulthard, Sergio Pérez, Fernando Alonso, Kimi Räikkönen, Zhou Guanyu, Logan Sergeant, Esteban Ocon, Lance Stroll and Valtteri Bottas)

Lando: (sends screenshots) Belle is choosing violence. 

Carlos: She posted Fleur 😭

Alex: Softest betrayal ever. I’m crying.

Sebastian: That's not just any horse. That’s the horse.

Zhou: WAIT??? THAT'S THE FOAL FROM HER CHILDHOOD HORSE??

Fernando: The symbolism is destroying me. Quiet vengeance at its finest.

David: Imagine getting obliterated by your sister posting a horse.

Lance: Charles is about to have another breakdown isn’t he

Oscar: He’s already melting down in her comments.

Logan: WHO GAVE HER THE HORSE THOUGH

George: who do you THINK

Nico Hülkenberg: lol max the softest secret husband in existence

Daniel: max is so whipped it's beautiful

Lewis: He literally said “my wife wants to visit her horse” the other day with the softest voice known to man

Kimi: Good. Someone should love her properly.

Lando: the LECLERC BROTHERS are LOSING IT

Oscar: literally fighting for their lives in the comments while Belle is posting like nothing happened 😂

Fernando: This is what true passive-aggressive excellence looks like. I’m so proud.

Valtteri: horse girl revenge >>> everything

Zhou: also can we talk about how she hasn’t answered a SINGLE one of them

George: Do you think Charles is gonna figure it out soon??

Carlos: absolutely not.

Oscar: he's gonna lose his mind when he finds out Max bought her the horse

Daniel: WAIT TILL HE FINDS OUT THEY'RE MARRIED LMAOOOO

Lando: oh my god he still doesn't know

Lewis: beautiful chaos.

Alex: 10/10 no notes

Oscar: Honestly Belle just won the soft war without even lifting a finger.

Daniel: She dropped a horse and bounced. ICON.

George: Meanwhile Charles is running around Monaco like a headless chicken.

Carlos: good. he deserves to sit with this.

Fernando: actions have consequences. and sometimes those consequences come with four legs and a braided mane.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/coraliegaudin: I don’t think people really get how much Isabelle Leclerc sacrificed. I knew her at university, and she was one of the smartest, hardest-working people I’ve ever met. But she never seemed happy. A thread.

↳ @/coraliegaudin: She wasn’t the type to talk about herself. She showed up, did the work, and left. No parties, no celebrations, nothing. Just school and her jobs.

↳@/coraliegaudin: And she always had jobs. She tutored, did internships, and worked at a stable. Yes, a stable.

↳@/coraliegaudin: I remember seeing her come to class still smelling like hay, her hands rough from work. And the thing is? That was the only time she ever looked truly alive.

↳@/coraliegaudin: She never told people why, but I found out later—her family sold her childhood horse when she was a teenager.

↳@/coraliegaudin: She didn’t ask them to fix it. She didn’t ask for help. She just worked. Worked herself into the ground to afford even a few hours of riding time.

↳@/coraliegaudin: I remember once, someone asked her why she never celebrated her grades. She just said, “It’s not that important.”

↳@/coraliegaudin: Not that important. Graduating with top honors. Getting a degree. None of it mattered to her. Because all she ever wanted was something she lost years ago.

↳@/coraliegaudin: And now, she has a horse again. Not just any horse—the foal of the one she lost.

↳@/coraliegaudin: I don’t think people understand how huge that is. This isn’t just a gift. It’s her entire dream given back to her.

↳@/coraliegaudin: She spent years giving up things for other people. But someone finally gave something back to her.

↳@/coraliegaudin: If anyone deserves that kind of love and thoughtfulness, it’s Isabelle Leclerc. I hope she’s finally as happy as she always deserved to be.

***

Text Messages: Lorenzo Leclerc & Belle Verstappen

Lorenzo: Isabelle.

Lorenzo: I know you probably don’t want to hear from me.

Lorenzo: But I need to say this.

Lorenzo: I’m sorry.

Lorenzo: I don’t know how we forgot your birthday. I don’t know how we’ve made you feel so invisible.

Lorenzo: But we did. And I hate that it took this for me to realize how badly we’ve failed you.

Lorenzo: You’ve been riding again. I didn’t know. And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

Lorenzo: I should have. I should have asked. I should have paid more attention.

Lorenzo: But I didn’t.

Lorenzo: I should have asked what you were up to. I should have…I should have known that you were riding again. And that you moved. And that you quit your job. But I didn’t. 

Lorenzo: I just assumed you were fine, even when you had every reason not to be.

Lorenzo: I don’t expect you to answer.

Lorenzo: I just need you to know—I see it now. I see you now.

Lorenzo: And I will spend however long it takes making sure you never feel forgotten again.

Lorenzo: I love you, Isabelle.

Lorenzo: Whenever you’re ready.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/Clara_Marelli: So I wasn’t going to say anything, but seeing all the speculation about Isabelle Leclerc and her new horse? I need people to understand why this is such a big deal. Because I knew her back when she lost her first horse, and let me tell you—it broke her.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: Isabelle wasn’t just a horse girl, she was the horse girl. You know how some kids live and breathe a sport? That was her with riding. It wasn’t just a hobby, it was everything.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: She used to come to school with hay in her hair because she’d wake up early to ride before class. She had riding gloves permanently stuffed in her pockets. She sketched horses in the margins of her notebooks. It was who she was.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: And then one day, she stopped.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: We were all confused. She never shut up about riding, and suddenly, she wouldn’t even mention it. If you asked about her horse, she’d just give this tight little smile and say, “She’s gone.” No explanation. No emotion. Just… gone.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: We only found out later that her family sold her horse to help fund Charles’ racing career. And look—I get it, racing is insanely expensive, and the Leclercs aren’t the first family to make sacrifices for motorsport. But this wasn’t just some hobby she could pick up again later.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: This was the thing that made her happiest, and it was ripped away from her.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: And what made it worse? She never complained. Not once. She just swallowed it, like she had already learned that what she wanted didn’t matter.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: After that, she changed. She got quieter. She stopped sketching horses. She stopped talking about anything she loved, really. It was like she decided—consciously or not—that if she didn’t care about things, they couldn’t be taken from her.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: And now, years later, she suddenly posts that she has a horse again. And her own brothers didn’t even know she was riding.

↳@/Clara_Marelli:  That tells me everything. It tells me that she never stopped missing it. That, at some point, she must have started riding again, but she kept it completely to herself. She didn’t tell her family. She didn’t trust them with it.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: And honestly? That makes me so, so sad. Because they should’ve been the first to know. They should’ve noticed that she was still hurting.

↳@/Clara_Marelli:  Instead, she had to find her way back to something she loved on her own.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: Whoever got her that horse—because let’s be real, this wasn’t a random purchase—they didn’t just give her a gift. They gave her back a part of herself. And that means more than her family probably even realizes.

@/F1Girl99: This is actually so heartbreaking. The way she just shut down after losing her horse?? And her family didn’t even realize??

@/LeclercNation: Nah, this makes the whole thing so much worse. Like, it’s one thing to forget her birthday, but not even knowing she still rides??

@/redbullgirly: “She didn’t trust them with it” is actually such a devastating sentence. Imagine having to hide the thing that makes you happiest because you know your family won’t care.

↳@/arthurfairy: The fact that she got a horse again but didn’t tell a single soul in her family tells me everything I need to know about how much that hurt her.

@/gridgossip: Everyone’s talking about how sad this is, but can we also talk about who got her that horse? Because that’s not a small gift. That’s a “someone knows exactly what you lost and wanted to give it back” kind of gift.

@/tifositilidie: Imagine being Charles or Arthur and realizing you never even thought about getting her back into riding.

↳@/ohmyf1: The fact that they restarted Arthur’s karting career but didn’t do the same for Isabelle and just assumed she got over it… yeah, that’s rough.

@/chaoticquadrant: Isabelle’s silence about all of this is louder than anything she could’ve said.

@/pitlaneprincess: The fact that a random classmate knows more about Isabelle’s pain than her own family is WILD.

@/verstapwinning: I actually can’t get over the part where she just stopped talking about things she loved after they sold her horse. That’s not just sadness, that’s trauma.

@/softforcharles: I love Charles, but the way they all just assumed she was fine… like, did no one ever ask her if she wanted to ride again??

↳@/F1andChill: I’m just saying—if my sibling was secretly riding again and I found out from Instagram, I would simply pass away from shame.

@/IsabelleLeclercFan: The worst part? She didn’t even announce it like “Look what I got!” She just posted it, like it was a casual thing. That’s how you know it meant everything to her.

@/formula1tea: Okay, but do we think her family even realizes what this means yet?? Or are they still stuck on the “Wait, she rides?” stage?

@/offtrackchaos: Imagine Charles thinking she just outgrew the horse phase, only to find out she’s been hiding it from them for years.

@/arthurisstressed: Arthur’s probably having a full-blown crisis over this. You just know he’s the type to blame himself.

@/MaranelloMess: Isabelle’s whole family right now: “Wait… are we the villains?”

↳@/tifosiprincess: Yes. Yes, you are.

@/undercutf1: Like imagine realizing your sister got back into her childhood passion, something that was taken from her, and you had no idea. No one knew. That’s insane.

@/arthurwasfoundshaking: Arthur realizing he got his dream back but she never did… oh, he’s spiraling.

@/paddocksecrets: Her whole family just realized in real time that they don’t actually know her anymore.

@/charlesnation16: Charles must be freaking out because, in his head, Isabelle never even mentioned wanting to ride again. But the reality is she probably knew they wouldn’t care, so she never said anything.

@/leclercsdaughter: Imagine looking at your sister’s post and realizing someone else—not you, not your family—gave her back the thing you all took away.

@/mclarendreaming: The fact that there was ZERO lead-up. No hints. No casual mentions. Just BAM, full horse.

@/paddockwhispers: At this point, someone needs to check on the Leclerc group chat. I know they are LOSING IT.

@/padlockpundit: Someone said this isn’t just a gift, it’s an apology on behalf of the universe, and honestly?? Yeah.

@/blisteringbarnacles: I can’t tell what’s funnier—Twitter solving this mystery in real-time or the fact that Isabelle is probably watching all of this unfold while sipping tea.

@/hamiltonshalo: Someone find out how much horses cost because I need to understand just how deep this gift goes.

@/GridTea: Sorry, but how do you have a sibling making millions in F1, and you’re out here working three jobs and shoveling horse stalls just to afford riding lessons?? I need someone to make it make sense.

@/F1DramaFiles: So Charles was making Ferrari money and Isabelle was out here grinding like a broke college student?? He couldn’t spare a little “my sister should live like a human being” fund???

@/OverworkedLeclerc: She was out here studying, working multiple jobs, AND still showing up to races when she could. Meanwhile, her whole family forgot her birthday. I would simply cut everyone off.

@/HorseGirlAnon: Do you know how EXPENSIVE equestrian sports are? And she worked her own way back into it with no support? That’s insane. She deserved so much better.

@/TifosiMess: Charles in every interview: “Family is everything.”Meanwhile Isabelle: was forgotten at every major milestone in her life.

@/F1Receipts: It’s also the fact that Isabelle has never once publicly complained about it. No bitter comments, no shade—she just put her head down and worked. Meanwhile, Charles was out here with a whole family support system hyping him up.

@/F1Overthinker: Not to be dramatic, but if I were Charles, Arthur, or Lorenzo, I would simply never recover from the public dragging happening right now.

@/F1TeaSpiller: 

Charles: “I’m so grateful to my family for supporting me.”

Isabelle: literally working at a horse stable just to be around them again.

@/JusticeForIsabelle: Nah, the fact that she was grinding through multiple jobs while Charles was out here buying sports cars, yachts, and luxury vacations is actually making me sick.

@/MonacoMess: Me reading Isabelle’s old interviews where she barely mentions herself and only hypes up her brothers, knowing now they weren’t doing the same for her: [GIF: "This is so much worse than I thought."]

***

Text Messages: Pascale Leclerc & Belle Verstappen

Pascale: Ma chérie, please talk to me.

Pascale: I saw your post. The horse… she looks just like Blanche.

Pascale: I didn’t know you were still riding.

Pascale: I should have known.

Pascale: I should have asked.

Pascale: I don’t have the words to tell you how sorry I am.

Pascale: When we sold Blanche, I told myself you would be okay. That you were strong. That you would move on.

Pascale: But that was just me making excuses. I should have fought harder for you.

Pascale: And then when we had the chance to give you back what you lost… we didn’t even think to.

Pascale: Isabelle, please. Say something.

Pascale: Ma fille, I know I don’t deserve an answer right now.

Pascale: I love you. So, so much. ***

Text Messages: Sebastian Vettel & Charles Leclerc

Sebastian: Charles. Saw Belle’s post. Wanted to check in.

Charles: I’m fine.

Sebastian: You’re not. And that’s okay. But pretending doesn’t help.

Charles: It’s just— She has a horse, Seb. A whole horse. And she never told any of us.

Sebastian: Maybe you weren’t listening.

Charles: I WOULD HAVE REMEMBERED A HORSE.

Sebastian: Would you? You didn’t remember her birthday. You didn’t notice she moved out. You didn’t notice she left her job. What makes you think you would have noticed a horse?

Charles: It’s a HORSE, Seb! Not a haircut!

Sebastian: It’s not about the horse. It’s about what the horse represents. Freedom. Love. A piece of herself you never asked about. Or thought to give back.

Charles: It feels like she lied to us.

Sebastian: She didn’t lie. She protected herself. There’s a difference.

Charles: She didn’t even give us a chance to fix it.

Sebastian: Charles. You don't get to demand trust from someone you ignored. Trust is built. It’s not owed.

Charles: I just— I thought she was okay.

Sebastian: Because it was easier to think that than to ask.

Charles: She posted a horse, Seb. A HORSE. HOW LONG HAS SHE BEEN HIDING A HORSE??

Sebastian: (typing) (long pause) Charles. Focus. It’s not about the horse.

Charles: IT’S A LITTLE ABOUT THE HORSE.

Sebastian: Focus.

Charles: I’m trying.

Sebastian: Try harder. She deserves better.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1TeaSpiller: Okay, so if you’re confused about why Isabelle Leclerc’s new horse is causing a meltdown, buckle up, because this is some Shakespearean family drama.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Basically, years ago, when Charles was climbing the motorsport ranks, the Leclerc family didn’t have the money to support all three kids in racing. Arthur had to stop karting, and Isabelle—who was really into horseback riding—had her horse sold to fund Charles’ career.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Yes. You read that correctly. They sold her childhood horse to support Charles.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Now, obviously, funding a motorsport career is insanely expensive, and a lot of families make sacrifices. But imagine being a teenager, loving your horse, and then one day—boom. Gone.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: What makes it worse? Unlike Arthur, who eventually got the chance to restart his racing career, Isabelle never got that opportunity with riding. The family focused on Charles and never revisited her dreams.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Fast forward to now, and Isabelle just casually drops on Instagram that she owns a horse again—and it looks eerily similar to the one they sold.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Her brothers (Charles, Arthur, Lorenzo) all freaked out in the comments because they clearly had no idea she was even riding again, let alone that she had bought a horse.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller:  And this is where it gets messy. Because it means:

They never asked about her interests.

They had no clue she had started riding again.

They didn’t even know where she was living.

She never told them about any of this—which, like… speaks volumes.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller:  Anyway, people are connecting the dots and realizing Isabelle has probably been pulling away from her family for a while, and they just… didn’t notice.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Because let’s be real—how do you forget your sister’s birthday, AND not know she got back into the thing she loved most as a kid??

↳@/F1TeaSpiller:  TL;DR: The Leclerc brothers are in big trouble right now.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Oh, and the final kicker? Isabelle agreed in the comments that the horse was a gift. The way Isabelle phrased her post—“some things will always come back to you”—makes it sound like this horse is directly connected to the one she lost. Apparently it was her childhood’s horse last foal. 

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: If that’s true? Then someone—who is not her family—went out of their way to find a descendant of her old horse and give her back a piece of what she lost.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: And I have questions.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Because if her own family didn’t do this… who did?

***

The restaurant buzzed with quiet conversation and clinking silverware, candlelight glinting off polished glasses. It should have been relaxing — a rare, normal night in Monaco, tucked into a corner booth with Alexandra, sipping wine and trying to pretend that everything wasn’t on fire.

It wasn’t working.

Charles could barely focus on anything she was saying. His mind kept looping back to Belle’s Instagram post.

A horse. A goddamn horse.

Captioned cryptically, like some kind of soft dagger straight into his already-shredded guilt.

He hadn’t even known she still rode. He hadn’t known she had a horse.

What else didn’t he know? What else had he missed while he was busy pretending everything was fine?

He stabbed his fork into his salad with unnecessary violence.

Alexandra reached across the table, covering his hand. “Eat. You’re spiraling.”

Charles muttered something about not being hungry, but then — movement over Alexandra’s shoulder caught his eye.

He straightened immediately.

Across the room, near the outdoor terrace, sat two very familiar figures.

Emilie Abadie. And Lando Norris?!

Together. Laughing.

Leaning in too close over a shared plate of something fried.

It didn’t look like a casual meeting.

It looked like a date.

Charles’s blood pressure spiked instantly.

Because if Emilie was here — and laughing — that meant Belle wasn’t spiraling alone somewhere. Or worse — she wasn’t telling Emilie to tell him anything.

He shot up from his seat before Alexandra could stop him.

"Charles," she hissed, trying to grab his sleeve. "Sit down!"

But he was already marching across the restaurant, half-blinded by panic, guilt, and the deep, bone-deep need to do something.

Emilie spotted him halfway across the room. Her smile dropped like a rock into the ocean.

"Emilie," he said, voice tight. "We need to talk. About Belle."

Emilie set her wineglass down with infuriating calm.

"I’m having dinner," she said coolly. "Sit down or leave."

Charles didn’t sit. He couldn’t. The panic was a living thing inside him.

“She posted a horse,” he said, almost accusingly. “A horse! She never said anything! She’s still not answering me. You’ve seen her. You know. Why won’t you just—just tell me what’s going on?!”

For a second, Emilie just stared at him.

Then — like a blade sliding out of a sheath — her smile disappeared.

"You think you're owed answers now?" she asked, voice so sharp Charles actually leaned back a fraction. "After months of ignoring every warning sign? After standing in the same garage with her and looking through her like she wasn’t even real?"

Charles’s throat worked, but no sound came out.

"You want to know why she’s not answering you?" Emilie went on, soft and lethal. "Because you only want her when it's convenient. When it fits your schedule. When it doesn't mess up the perfect story you tell yourself about your family."

“Emilie—”

"No," she cut across him, fierce and furious. "You don’t get to interrupt. You didn’t text her. You didn’t notice she moved. You didn’t notice she quit her job. You didn’t notice when she smiled through being forgotten on the day that should have been about her."

Charles flinched like she’d slapped him.

"You forgot her birthday," Emilie said, each word a scalpel slicing down to bone. "And you think a few panicked phone calls are enough to fix that?"

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

"You don't love Belle the way you should," Emilie said, voice low, devastating. "You love the idea of her. The safe, quiet little sister who never asks for anything. Who never demands too much. Who lets you shine without ever threatening your light."

Charles stared at her, feeling hollowed out, feeling cracked open.

"You didn't see her when she needed you," Emilie said. "And now you don't deserve to see her at all — not until she says you can."

Beside her, Lando sat perfectly still, wide-eyed — half in awe, half in something dangerously close to admiration.

Charles shook his head, trying to hold onto something, anything.

“I just want to make it right—”

"Then start by not making it about you," Emilie snapped. "Start by realizing that sometimes you don’t get to be the hero of the story you broke."

Charles felt like the floor had dropped out from under him.

For a long moment, the restaurant spun around him — laughter, silverware, clinking glasses — but all he could hear was Emilie’s voice, merciless and true.

And he knew, in some terrible, undeniable way, that she was right.

He wasn’t the center of Belle’s story anymore.

He wasn’t even a footnote.

He had made himself a ghost in her life, and now he was furious that he couldn’t haunt it.

Emilie leaned back in her chair, perfectly calm now, like she hadn’t just torn him apart at the seams.

"Now," she said, reaching for her wine again, "go back to your table. Apologize to Alexandra. And maybe — if you’re lucky — figure out how to be someone your sister actually wants to let back in."

Charles didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.

He turned away on shaking legs, retreating across the restaurant under the weight of his own failure.

***

Text Messages: Charles Leclerc & Belle Verstappen

Charles: Isabelle.

Charles: I know you probably don’t want to hear from me. I get it. I’m still going to say this anyway.

Charles: I was fifteen when they sold Blanche. I knew how much she meant to you. I knew how much it would break your heart.

Charles: And I still let it happen. I told myself it wasn’t my decision. That it was out of my hands. That it was for the greater good.

Charles: But that’s not the truth. The truth is, I was selfish. I was scared. I was so focused on keeping my own dream alive that I let them take yours away.

Charles: I didn’t fight for you. I didn’t even try.

Charles: I keep thinking about that day. The way you looked at them. At me. Like you finally understood that nothing you said was ever going to change it. And still, I stayed quiet. I just let it happen.

Charles: You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry. You just… disappeared inside yourself. And we all pretended it would get better on its own.

Charles: It didn’t.

Charles: When Arthur got his second chance years later, we celebrated. But we never once thought about giving you yours. We just assumed you had "moved on."

Charles: I see now how wrong that was. You didn’t move on. You just learned how to survive being left behind.

Charles: And then we forgot your birthday. You were standing right there. Wearing Ferrari red. Smiling at me. And I still didn’t see you.

Charles: I keep asking myself how many times we made you feel invisible without even realizing it.

Charles: I don’t blame you for shutting us out. I don’t blame you for walking away. You deserved better than what we gave you.

Charles: And I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry.

Charles: I don’t know how to fix this. Maybe I can’t.

Charles: But I want to try. If you’ll let me.

Charles: If you need space, I’ll give you space. If you need time, I’ll wait. If you never want to speak to me again, I’ll understand.

Charles: But if there’s any chance at all—any way to rebuild even a fraction of what we broke— I’ll do whatever it takes.

Charles: No excuses. No conditions. No timeline.

Charles: I’ll wait as long as you need. I’ll listen as long as it takes.

Charles: You mattered then. You matter now. You always have. Even when we were too blind to see it.

Charles: I love you. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt that.

pairing: sebastian vettel x femalereader

summary: it's totally forbidden. he's older and your childhood and eternal crush, but there's more to that. his best friend--and your dad--is Michael Schumacher. one day, you're sick and stuck in your bed with a fever. he pays you a visit, and then the fever becomes even more brutal. PART TWO. Here's part 1.

warnings: smut, female pleasuring, cursing words

(a/n): here's part 2 because you seemed to love the first one! <333

"I SUPPOSE YOU'LL HAVE TO BEG FOR IT."

Seb's face morphed into a full grin as he exclaimed the words.

Beg for it.

You felt your cheeks growing even hotter--if that was even possible with a fever and him in a room with you. Completely alone.

You pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes at him. His hands were still on your thighs, and you did everything you could to ignore them.

"So, you don't want to kiss me." You said, more like announcing it yourself.

You knew he probably wanted to kiss you, but you teased him anyway, just like he teased you all those years.

You turned your head to face the wall next to you, not looking at the German man in front of you because you'd be willing to participate in every activity he would suggest, including begging for it.

"I want to kiss you, babe." He whispered, and you soon felt his hot breath brush against the flesh of your thigh. "But I don't intend to make it that easy, as I said before. I am a man of my word."

Damn him and his beautiful eyes.

You couldn’t resist that.

His hand found your back, and he started removing your shorts. "Is that okay?"

Those puppy eyes...

"Yes." You replied and fully removed your shorts. "But if you think I'm actually going to beg for your dick, you will be very disappointed."

His lips twitched as he brought his palms up to your thighs. They trembled under his touch, and you clenched them to hide the shiver.

One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. "Who said anything about my dick?"

"Then what exactly do you expect me to beg you for--"

His fingers gripped the edges of her underwear and pulled it down at once.

Seb took his time, turning the removal of your clothes into a long and drawn-out event.

You could barely stand his soft touches and his sly glances.

"I don't like this game." You stated, sighing. You were getting more and more impatient with each passing second, and you were just getting started.

He removed your shirt and spread your thighs even more. "I'm sure I can change your mind soon enough."

You froze as he pressed his palm to your breast and pushed back, pulling you to his face.

Oh, my God.

A scene like that could bring any woman to orgasm all by itself, you thought to yourself.

With the way your lower body was throbbing, it wouldn't take much to make you come. Especially with the way those gorgeous, blue eyes were looking at you and the way his hair unwittingly caressed you body.

Your whole body was buzzing as his tongue touched your soft spot, teasing you shameless. You arched your back in response, and your thighs almost mechanically squeezed his head between them.

Seb's laughter made your clit vibrate. His fingers tightened the quilt as he destroyed your ability to think of anything but his tongue diving into you in shameless movements.

Yep, that was the word to describe this very moment.

Shameless.

What whould papa say if he knew his childhood best friend fucked his beloved daughter with his tongue at her apartment, while thinking she was very sick and could barely walk.

I'm sure I will indeed be able to barely walk after this kind of beautiful torture, you thought.

The mere thought of your father finding out made you shiver, but Seb almost immediately sensed the tension and drove his miraculous tongue deeper into you.

You were sure as hell you had never been so turned on in your brief life.

Everything about him was sensual, from the way his nails dug into your thighs as he licked heryou, to the way he looked at you when a moan escaped.

It was all gone when suddenly you felt a finger sink into you."Oh, fuck!"

"Language, babe." He said, leaving your spot for a few moments.

His lips wrapped around your clit again, sucking the spot there.

He deliberately stopped every time you neared climax.

You cursed him in the same sentence that you praised him.

You almost broke down and begged him to let you finish what he had started, but you managed not to.

If he expected you to break, he would be very surprised.

As if he didn't know how stubborn you were.

"It's a simple word." He chuckled and stepped away from Seb for a few moments. "Say it."

Your clit ached, begging for the mercy that he would not give you.

You grabbed the sheets tight. "No."

With a word from you, you could win the keys to heaven itself.

"Why are you so stubborn?" Again, you heard Seb's voice.

"Because I'm my father's daughter." You barely managed to blur out.

You couldn't stand it any longer. Your hair was a torrent of messy curls and it was flowing haphazardly around you.

It was just a word.

An innocent, little word.

"Please." Your cheeks were wet with the tears you didn't know had fallen.

His laughter sent another wave of arousal through you.

Fuck.

You groaned as he inserted a second finger inside you, twisting both so that they slid over your G-spot.

The way he sucked yout clit combined with the torture of his fingers pushed you to the edge.

Your body shook uncontrollably as he continued to control you with his tongue.

He played with yout body like his favorite toy, pulling your orgasm as far as possible.

Your voice was hoarse as you cried out his name, and he not only liked that.

It drove him crazy.

He would hear that dreamy, soft little voice pronounce his name even in his sleep and dreams and nightmares.

"Seb..." You moaned.

His fingers gripped you as he pulled you forward, pushing his tongue deeper into you. You caressed his hair as he made you chase your second orgasm. "Fuck..."

He abandoned your clit and pulled you into his arms.

You muffled your cries as his mouth clamped over your, drawing another shuddering breath from you.

He was kissing you.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head forward, and felt his soft lips against yours.

You stopped to face him for a while, immediately missing his lips on yours. "Seb?"

"Yes, love?"

"How do I taste like?"

A laughter escaped, and you couldn't help but smile as well. "You taste like mine."