Lisitch
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Summary
“You have five days.” Frederic walked to the door. The gravity of the situation finally hit him.
“You can’t expect me to fall in love with Max Verstappen!”
That caused Frederic to pause with his hand resting on the door knob. He turned around. “I don’t. I expect you to pretend to fall in love with him. I expect you to be such a good actor he believes you are infatuated with him as he is with you. Then I expect you to take everything from him.”
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Gain Red-bulls secrets or get kicked off the team.
Fall in ‘love’ with Max Verstappen or stop racing forever.
Those were Charles options.
He wasn’t expecting all four to happen to him in five days.
Series
- Part 3 of Over 10k hits or very close
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Summary
Charles raised an eyebrow, pausing near the entrance to watch the scene unfold.
Franco was talking animatedly now, gesturing with his hands, while Max nodded, his lips curving into a soft smile. Ollie was laughing at something Max had said, his posture relaxed but leaning a little too close for Charles’s liking. And then there was Kimi, sitting quietly but gazing up at Max like he hung the moon.
Charles’s jaw tightened slightly, though he forced himself to stay composed.
He wasn’t the jealous type—normally—but seeing three young alphas crowding around his omega like that stirred something instinctual in him.
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Summary
It was bullshit.
Mohammed bin Sulayem, the FIA, the Red Bull car, the McLaren flexi wing. All bullshit.
Most importantly, the fact that drivers can’t swear on radios and interviews is bullshit.
or, the 2024 grid stages a protest by all swearing in their native languages.
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“You know,” Charles started with a laugh, “if Red Bull are as fucked as you say they are, maybe you should just come with me.”
Max furrowed his eyebrows, bright eyes glinting in the sunlight.
“With you?” he asked.
“To Ferrari, of course.”
OR:
Max moves to Ferrari. Charles deals with it.
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Summary
Max can feel it now: the pull. Whoever this is, they’re sending him a message. A message he can’t quite piece together. But he knows he’ll get another one. And even though he should want to get away from it—cut ties with whatever game they’re playing—he doesn’t. He’s already bracing for the next one.
Maybe even looking forward to it.
OR It starts with three gifts from an unknown sender. Max puts them away in a drawer. The next ones refuse to be ignored. They slip into his image, his career, his personal space. And before long, into something even closer.
OR Lestappen Stalker!AU