★ : a/n :: ignore the typos, comments, thoughts and reblogs are appreciated! i got a request for this :") but i lost the ask. anyway hi!! how is everyone
summary: silly texts you get from your husband/boyfriend.
warnings: lots of swearing, lots of nicknames, sexual innuendos, that's it (i think?) OH CHARLIE KIRK BTW (as a meme reference)
an: so uhm....i literally have my finals going on rn. but like, idek why i feel the deep urge to feed u all during my exams, genuinely this may be causing my downfall. anyways, hope you like it!
୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, carlos sainz, lewis hamilton, charles leclerc, lando norris, and oscar piastri
୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : you put a stripper pole in your bedroom, what's their reaction?
ᡣ𐭩 a/n : i don't think i have the core strength to use a stripper pole icl...
ʚ・max verstappen
max had barely dropped his bag at the door when he noticed it.
the room was dimly lit, soft music playing, everything normal… except for the gleaming silver pole now bolted to the floor and ceiling right in front of the bed.
he stood there, completely still, helmet still in hand.
you looked up from your spot by the dresser and grinned. “hi, baby.”
he raised a brow, eyes not leaving the pole. “what is that?”
“a surprise.”
he blinked slowly. “is this a joke?”
“nope.”
he walked over like he was inspecting a piece of equipment on the car — hands on his hips, eyes narrowed, head tilted just slightly. “you got a stripper pole installed. in our bedroom.”
“correct.”
“you planned this.”
“also correct.”
he stared for another beat, then muttered, “you’re dangerous.”
you leaned against the pole with a smirk. “only a little.”
max ran a hand down his face. “you know what this is going to do to me.”
“that’s the idea.”
he dropped his helmet onto the nightstand and exhaled hard. “no warning? no ‘hey babe, i’m turning our bedroom into a club’?”
you walked toward him, slow and deliberate, stopping just close enough to rest a finger on the center of his chest. “didn’t want to give you time to mentally prepare.”
“mission accomplished.”
you kissed his cheek, then pulled away. “want a demo?”
he didn’t even answer, just sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, jaw tight, eyes already fixed on you like he was gearing up for lights out.
the moment you started moving, just one smooth spin, one arch of your back, he exhaled something low and deeply unholy.
you landed with a little grin and looked over at him. “you okay?”
max was quiet, hand over his mouth, leg bouncing slightly. then:
“do it again.”
you tilted your head. “just once more?”
he looked at you like you were the last glass of champagne on the podium. “keep doing it until i say stop.”
you laughed, grabbing the pole again. “so bossy.”
he leaned forward, elbows on knees. “i’ll show you bossy when you’re done.”
and the look in his eyes said he meant it.
ʚ・carlos sainz
carlos had been suspicious the second you told him to “go for a walk or something” with a very specific time limit and a “don’t come back until i text you” tacked on. he even sent you a photo from a café just to prove he was obeying the rules.
but when he came home and walked into your shared bedroom… all of that patience instantly crumbled.
he stopped in the doorway, eyebrows raised, eyes trailing up the very real, very securely installed stripper pole now planted in the middle of the room.
“…¿perdona?”
you turned around with a grin, towel in hand, having just finished tightening the base. “hey babe.”
he stepped closer, slowly, like the pole might vanish if he moved too fast. “you put this… in here.”
“mhm.”
“you installed this,” he said again, pointing like he needed confirmation from the universe.
you nodded.
carlos rubbed the back of his neck, staring. “and… what exactly is the plan with it?”
you walked over to him, fingers grazing his chest. “well, i was going to surprise you with a full routine, but you’re early.”
he blinked. “mi amor, you think that’s the part i’m stuck on?”
you laughed, tugging him closer. “so, you hate it?”
he let out a breathy laugh, still in mild disbelief. “i think i’m about to have a religious experience.”
you kissed his jaw, slow and teasing. “i’ve been practicing.”
he swallowed. “okay. yes. okay. show me.”
“now?”
“now,” he said firmly, already backing up toward the bed like he was preparing for a performance of a lifetime.
the second you started, his whole demeanor changed. arms crossed. head tilted. a little smirk tugging at his mouth, but his eyes? locked in.
by the time you reached the final spin, carlos was on the edge of the bed, both hands gripping the sheets, pupils blown wide.
you didn’t even get a chance to ask for feedback before he was already walking toward you.
“you’re never getting rid of that,” he muttered against your neck.
you laughed. “didn’t plan to.”
his lips brushed your ear. “one more show and i’m marrying you on the spot.”
ʚ・lewis hamilton
you didn’t hear the door open at first—too focused on testing your grip strength and wiping the pole down with a towel. you were mid-spin when lewis walked in, gym bag slung over his shoulder, sunglasses still on despite the sun already setting.
he stopped in his tracks like he’d just walked into a dream.
you glanced at him in the mirror and smiled. “hey baby.”
he took the sunglasses off slowly. “is that what i think it is?”
you slid down the pole smoothly, grinning as you turned to face him. “depends. what do you think it is?”
he let out a soft laugh, low and amazed. “you installed a stripper pole in our bedroom.”
“correct.”
lewis walked toward you, dropping his bag by the dresser and looking the pole up and down like it was a prized car he was about to test drive. “is it safe?”
“installed it myself.”
he raised an eyebrow. “that’s hot.”
you twirled around once more, nothing too flashy — just enough to make his jaw go slack. “i figured it’d be a fun surprise.”
lewis reached for his phone in his back pocket, already scrolling. “you already know what playlist i’m putting on.”
you laughed. “you have a playlist for this?” your cheeks flushed, and before you could say anything, he turned the speaker on as sultry r&b immediately began filling the room.
“oh we’re really doing this,” you said, walking past him with a teasing smile.
he caught your wrist gently. “no no. you’re doing this. i’m just here to witness greatness.”
you climbed the pole again, this time slower, more deliberate. lewis sat at the edge of the bed, arms spread, legs slightly apart, watching with such intense focus you might’ve thought you were performing in front of an entire crowd.
when you landed, he leaned forward, voice like velvet. “you’re not getting any sleep tonight, you know that, right?”
you walked toward him, placing a hand on his chest. “didn’t plan to.”
he smiled, kissing your wrist. and with the look he gave you after that? the pole wasn’t the only thing getting tested that night.
ʚ・charles leclerc
charles had just gotten out of the shower, towel low on his hips, hair dripping, humming some french song under his breath when he stepped into the bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks.
the steam still clung to his skin, but the moment he saw it, the sleek silver pole planted in the middle of your bedroom—his body went ice cold and burning hot all at once.
“qu’est-ce que… what is that?” he asked, eyes wide.
you looked over your shoulder, wearing the tiniest little shorts and a tank top that was barely clinging to one shoulder. “you like it?”
he blinked. “is that… a stripper pole?”
you smiled sweetly. “mhm.”
he took two steps forward, towel shifting slightly. “why is there a stripper pole in our room?”
“for fun. for fitness,” you said innocently, gripping it and spinning once — slow, graceful, intentional.
charles let out a breath like you’d knocked the air out of his lungs. “you’re joking.”
you weren’t. and by the time you climbed up, hooked your knee around, and slid down in a slow, practiced spin, he looked ready to combust.
“you’re trying to kill me,” he said, voice low, almost strangled.
“not kill,” you murmured, walking toward him, “just… ruin a little.”
he grabbed your waist the second you were close enough, pulling you flush against him. the towel was hanging on by a thread. his eyes were dark, heavy, drinking you in like he couldn’t believe you were real.
“you do that again,” he whispered, “and i’m taking you right here.”
you smirked, looping your arms around his neck. “what if that’s what i want?”
his jaw clenched, fingers tightening around your hips. “don’t say things like that when i’m already—”
you kissed him, slow and heated, and he groaned into your mouth like he was losing the last shred of control he had left.
when you pulled back, slightly breathless, he leaned his forehead against yours. “you’ve officially made the bedroom a danger zone.”
you grinned. “then maybe we need to break it in.”
and yeah—you did. forget the pole, that pole will never look at charles the same again.
ʚ・lando norris
you didn’t mean for him to find it right away.
the plan was to install it, test it out, and then surprise him with the full show. music, outfit, dim lighting, the whole thing. but fate (and lando’s awful sense of patience) had other plans.
he walked into the bedroom with a mouthful of trail mix and stopped mid-chew.
“…is that a pole?”
you blinked, caught mid-spin, hands gripping the cool metal. “hey babe.”
he blinked again. “you got a stripper pole in our room.”
you grinned. “surprise?”
lando dropped his snack on the dresser like it was suddenly irrelevant. “no. no no no. you don’t just casually put a stripper pole in the room and say ‘surprise.’ this is like… life-altering information.”
you slid down slowly, then struck a pose. legs crossed, one hand trailing down the pole with exaggerated flair. “thought it might be fun.”
he stared at you for a solid ten seconds, completely speechless.
then: “okay but like… are you just trying to end me?”
you laughed, stepping off to grab a towel and wipe your hands. “you’re being dramatic.”
“i’m being logical!” he shot back. “you’re up here spinning like it’s cirque du soleil and i’m just supposed to cope?”
you walked over and tugged at his shirt. “you’ll survive.”
he wrapped his arms around you, lips brushing your ear. “doubt it.”
the rest of the night passed in a blur of “do that move again,” and “okay but slower this time,” and lando sitting cross-legged on the bed like a dedicated audience member, watching with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.
at one point he whispered, “i need to install like five more mirrors in this room.”
you smirked. “is that so?”
“absolutely,” he muttered, practically starstruck. “and maybe a fan. for aesthetic reasons.”
by the time you finally curled into bed, his voice was still slightly hoarse. “i don’t think i’ll ever recover.”
you kissed his cheek. “glad you liked it.”
lando just groaned into his pillow. “liked it? you ruined me.”
ʚ・oscar piastri
oscar was halfway through brushing his teeth when he spotted it in the mirror, just barely in the reflection behind him, the very distinct outline of a… pole?
he turned around slowly, toothbrush still in his mouth.
walked back out into the bedroom.
paused.
then, with a foamy mouthful of minty disbelief: “did you just install a stripper pole in our room?”
you looked up from where you were stretching beside it, casual as ever. “i did.”
oscar stared. “when?”
“earlier today.”
he wiped his mouth with a towel, eyes narrowing like he was trying to solve a crime scene. “why?”
you tilted your head. “for fitness. for fun. for chaos.”
he stepped into the room slowly, eyes flicking from the pole to you and back again. “is it… sturdy?”
“i’ve tested it.”
“i’m scared to ask what that means.”
you stood, walking to the pole with the kind of deliberate grace that made his brain short-circuit just a little. “i could show you.”
oscar blinked, hands falling to his sides like all rational thought had left the chat. “i mean—yeah. i think that would be helpful. for, uh, scientific reasons.”
you started to move. nothing fancy. just a slow climb, a gentle spin, but you didn’t need tricks. the way his jaw dropped halfway through said enough.
by the time you dismounted, oscar was sitting on the bed with his hands in his lap like he’d just witnessed something sacred.
“…you’ve been practicing?” he asked, voice a bit too soft to be casual.
“okay,” he nodded, “okay. cool. normal.”
you kissed his cheek. “wanna see the heels i got to go with it?”
Keonho x Latina!Reader ⋮ oneshot ⋮ bananagirl masterlist
desc - Random texts with your boyfriend Keonho, and you also get headaches a lot (another shit post)
note - I'm trying not to write for I Can't Call You 'Bout You and Me till this weekend because it keeps distracting me from my work, but then I also have a headache and don't want to do homework nor write, so I did this lol
