Random Oneshots from my Tumblr (@bad268)
Writing Inktober entries were moved to another book so read that too :)
The only new chapters of this book are part 2s or the off chance I write for a fictional character
New stories are posted in book 2 on m...
Warnings: Hangover, alcohol, brief joke about cheating
Summary: Chaotic wins mean forgotten proposals and spontaneous marriages.
W.C. 1762
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"Did we get hitched last night?" Was not the question you thought to be asking yourself after you woke up hungover from the grand prix after-party. The Las Vegas Grand Prix after-party, that is.
Your head was still pounding to the point you could still feel the bass and vibrations from the music the night before. It was an unexpected win for Max since he started on the third row (rare), but when the silver arrows collided (replay 2016) and Ferarri fucked up Charles's strategy, it only took a few laps to get in front of Lando. The raw speed of Max's Red Bull was still not comparable to the McLaren. That's what led to you both getting fucked at a popular nightclub on the strip. In all honesty, you were not even sure how you made it back to your hotel room, but you were not going to question it.
"I don't think so, but I don't remember," Max groaned, turning to hide his face in your neck. "I bet Daniel would know. He's probably the one who got us back. Either him or Charles."
"I ask because I'm wearing a ring," you chuckled as you looked at your left hand. Max's head shot out of your neck to see the ring. His eyes widened immediately, causing you to get concerned. "Do you remember anything from last night? It's all blank for me."
"No," he trailed off. He hesitated for a minute as he looked up to meet your eyes before dropping his head again with a shy smile as his face heated up. "I just..."
"You can be honest, Max," you gently pushed. You moved down on the bed, so you were leaning on your side, face to face with Max. "Unless it was cheating. In that case, I would rather remain blissfully unaware."
"No, it's not that," he laughed nervously.
"Then, it cannot be as bad as you think," you reassured. "Trust me. You can tell me anything. Nothing could top walking in on Daniel singing, 'She Keeps Me Up,' in Austin last year. That was awkward."
"No, it's not that bad," he laughed sincerely this time as he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. "I recognize the ring."
"Oh, is it yours?" You asked back immediately, moving to take the jewelry off. "You can have it back."
"No! I mean yes!" He rushed, grabbing your hand to stop you from removing the ring. "What I'm saying is I bought the ring for you, schat (<em>darling</em>)." He stopped to give you a minute to register the information. Your eyes grew wide as the gears in your head started to turn.
