#Mini Verstappen Series

[multifandomgirl08]

Hey, Little Sister [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: "You wanted this Max. You wanted her."

Warning(s): Christian Horner, Giving birth complications (Not from the Reader's POV)

A/N: Gender reveal idea taken from TikTok. The birthing complications mentions in the chapter is taken from a story that I read on Reddit. You'll notice that I told it from Max's POV as to not make it graphic but what the reader goes through in this chapter is very serious and still shouldn't be taken lightly.

Words: 9.9k

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March 27, 2028

It had been a relatively normal Tuesday morning so far, waking up early to feed the kids and then get ready to head into the office today. Y/N had been in the bathroom when a sudden wave of dizziness caused her to grip the sink before covering her mouth with her hand, and ran to empty her stomach into the toilet.

As she kept throwing up her morning coffee she heard footsteps coming from behind her, slowly pulling her hair away from her face, and the feeling of Max’s hand running over her back letting herself slump forward a little more. He stayed with her until she pulled herself away from the toilet, and moved back to the sink to brush her teeth.

“You should stay home.” Max was quick to say.

“I can’t stay home Max, we are having an investor meeting today and I have to be there.” As one of the top earners at the hedge fund that she worked at she couldn’t not show up for today’s meeting. “I’ll drop Nico off at school and go in, after the meeting ends, I’ll come straight home.”

This wasn’t the first time that she had been sick in the last two months, she had gotten a mild cold right before their anniversary and had been on antibiotics until she had finished off the 10 day prescription.

“Okay, but straight home after you pick up Nico?” He said, almost like he wanted to scold her for even thinking about spending time in the office around other people when she normally worked from home and was only around her co-works once a week unless something important happened.

“Yes, Max. I’ll even call my doctor and schedule something. Okay?” She asked.

Max gave her a nod and kissed her forehead. “You throw up again, I want you to come straight home.” He said. She nodded before moving to put on her makeup for the day, got dressed into a burgundy red blouse, black knee length pencil skirt and 3 inch heels and then made sure that Nico was ready to go.

Y/N and Nico got into her car, and as she was driving him to school she noticed that she didn’t feel nearly as nauseous as when she had woken up that morning.

“Bye Mama.” Nico said, sliding out of his seat with his backpack in his hands.

“Love you Neeks, I’ll pick you up at the end of the day.” Nico gave her a small wave and then closed the door. She waited until she saw him walk inside of the school building and then drove off to work.

The drive to the office that she worked at took another 20 minutes from Nico’s private school. She had pulled into the underground parking and found her normal spot where a plaque read; Specter Bouchaund Capital Employee Parking.

She had stopped her Bentley on the far right next to a few McLaren’s and Ferrari’s that some of her co-workers drove. She pulled her purse and laptop bag with her, locking the car and then took the elevator up to the 20th floor.

She had walked out of the elevator and into the large open concept office. There was a long black reception desk separated by a glass wall with the words Specter Bouchaund Capital in frosted lettering.

Y/N waved at the receptionist who was stationed at the front desk and got a small wave back before a younger woman came up to Y/N with a coffee cup and a small stack of white papers.

“Morning Y/N.” Monique; her assistant had said, giving her the cup. “You already have a few calls this morning. I moved them around so they wouldn't interfere with the meeting.”

“Thank you. Would you also be able to make an appointment with my doctor? I’m not feeling the best and I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“Your OB or your primary?”

Y/N had never considered that her being sick this morning could mean that she was pregnant. She never had morning sickness with any of the boys.

“Let’s start with the OB, if it’s nothing I can call my primary.”

Monique gave her a nod and they walked to the far left side of the floor to Y/N’s office. 

Y/N’s name on the door read;

Y/N Verstappen Junior Portfolio Manager

Y/N sat down her cup and moved her laptop from her bag onto the glass top desk. It was mostly bare aside from a few picture frames, one was of Max with the boys, Nico and Niki on each side of Max and Nik sitting on Max’s lap. The one next to it was one of her and Max at their wedding with Nico standing in front of them.

There was a knock on her office door. Y/N looked up to Monique standing there, “The shareholder meeting is starting in 10 minutes. If you’re not early-”

Monique didn’t need to finish her sentence. She already knew what she was going to say. “Steven is going to yell that time is money.”

Steven was Y/N’s boss, a Portfolio Manager and her direct superior. He had been in the business for over 20 years and had more money to his name than her and Max combined. It was easy to say that he was good at his job.

Monique gave her a nod. Y/N collected her phone and laptop. She was sure that someone in that meeting was going to ask about market projections for the coming quarter.

The meeting felt like it took forever. Market projections for the next quarter were asked about as well as a new investor who wanted to start working with the company. It lasted a full hour and then she was back in her office looking over something for a client who wanted to put money into a company based in Beijing. She didn’t think it was a smart investment, too much risk for what he wanted and not enough of a reward in the long run.

There was a knock on her office door. She looked up to Monique walking through the door, “So I was able to schedule you for an appointment with your OB today at 1, if that doesn’t work I can call back and see if they have something in the next few weeks.”

Y/N was quick to open the calendar on her phone, she didn’t have a lunch meeting with anyone today.

“Yeah that should work out. Nico gets out at 4 so it’ll give me plenty of time to come back here before I have to pick him up.”

“Okay, I’ll call them back and let them know,” Monique said with a quick nod.

The rest of her morning went by rather slowly, instead of finishing the cup of coffee that had grown cold after her meeting, she had Monique make her a cup of tea and put in some honey hoping to settle her stomach before her appointment.

She had grabbed her bag and was out of the office by 12:20, her usual OBGYN was in Monte Carlo. She had parked her car with the valet, handed over her keys and made her way up to Dr. Casse office. Dr. Casse was the OB that she had while she was in Monaco, she had another OBGYN when she was back in Belgium who got recommended to her by Dr. Casse.

She walked into Dr. Casse’s office and greeted the receptionist, signing in and then took a seat in the waiting room. She saw a few other people scattered around in chairs around the room, before hearing a chipper voice call, “Y/N Verstappen?”

She stood up, and followed the nurse in the pink scrubs back into one of the exam rooms. She left her to change out of her clothes and into the thin sheet that made up the gown. She couldn’t help but curl her toes in against the cold tile flooring of the exam room.

The room was a little cold as she sat back on the exam table. “Y/N?” Dr. Casse said.

“Yes,” she answered.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been in my office. How are the boys?”

“Doing well, Nikita’s finally learning that he can out run Max if he tries hard enough.”

“Ah yeah, he must be getting so big.”

“He looks more and more like Max every day.”

“I bet.” The doctor moved to sit back in the chair by the window with Y/N’s file in her hands. “So, not here for a check up, I assume.”

“I’m not really sure. I threw up this morning, and felt a little dizzy beforehand.”

“Have you been taking your birth control? We wouldn’t want what happened with Nikita to happen again.”

She had still been on birth control when she found out that she was pregnant with Nikita. It had also been the first time that she had been in Dr. Casse’s office. Dr. Casse had immediately taken her off the birth control, put her on prenatal supplements, and then had her schedule another appointment for the following week after the ultrasound. Niki looked healthy for 6 weeks along. It was starting to really dawn on her that she could be pregnant again.

“I was, but I was sick at the end of January.”

“Did they have you on medication?” The doctor asked checking her file.

“Yeah, a 10 day prescription.”

“There is a chance that it threw off your birth control. We’ll do an ultrasound and then if nothing comes up we’ll run a blood test after.” The folder was placed down by the sink in the room.

Y/N nodded back at the doctor before the ultrasound machine was rolled over towards her. Cold gel was placed on her abdomen and then Dr. Casse pressed the wand into her skin going to look for the signs of a baby growing in her belly for the third time.

It took a few moments before something showed up on the screen and the sound of a fast watch like tick came from the machine.

“And there it is...” Dr. Casse said. “The fetus looks healthy, and based on this I would say that you're around 8 weeks along. Making you due late November. If we’re lucky the next time that you're in here we can find out the gender.”

All she could do was look at the screen and count back the weeks. Her and Max had conceived a child on their anniversary. There was another child that she and Max had created, together. They hadn’t been trying for another baby, her and Max had talked about waiting the suggested 16 months this time around after Nik was born, but they still wanted the kids to be close in age. She never thought she would get pregnant this fast, again.

Y/N had thanked the doctor, and she had left to get her the sonogram pictures so she could share them with Max. Y/N was given a towel to wipe off the gel and was given a couple minutes to put her work clothes back on. She sat in the chair that Dr. Casse had occupied a few minutes ago, taking in a few deep breaths. This isn’t what I was expecting, she thought. It wasn’t that she was unhappy with the news… It’s just a lot right now. She forced her eyes open a little, took another deep breath before walking out of the exam room. She had been handed the small stack of photos and then made another appointment for 4 weeks later.

From there she walked back to the parking lot and sat in her car for a few moments just taking it in. Her hand somehow had dropped to her abdomen and she wanted to call Max right away and tell him the news. It was hard going back to work after that. Sitting in her office, being on the phone with a few of the traders that worked in the building with her. 4 o’clock couldn’t come fast enough before she was out of her office and into her car to pick up Nico from school.

She had pulled up to the school when she saw Nico leave the building his classroom was in. His backpack moved sloppily with his before he was in the car. “Hi, Mama!” He said slightly out of breath.

“Hey, Neeks. How was school?” Hearing the backseat door close.

Nico went on a rant about his day, talking about what he had learned in his classes and that if he kept doing well the rest of the year, he would be able to take on a second language class next school year. Nico’s teacher, Ms. Sazarrin said that he was ahead of the class and for a child that didn’t grow up speaking any French was taking to it like a fish to water.

“And what did you learn today? Anything that would surprise Uncle Charles?”

“No, not yet. We got to read through a menu in class. Escargot sounds gross.” Nico said with a disgusted look reaching his face.

“Yeah it does. Do you know what Escargot is?” Y/N asked, pulling away from the school.

“Snails. But I didn’t like the sound of Ratatouille when I thought it was made of rats.”

“No, I didn’t think you would. How did you feel when you found out that it’s made of vegetables?”

“Better, rat sounds gross to eat.” She agreed with Nico. Rat didn't sound appetizing. The idea made her start to feel a little queasy, damn the pregnancy hormones.

“I’m working from home tomorrow so if you want to try it, we can.” She said, swallowing down the need to puke.

“Really?” He asked, perking up in his seat.

“Yeah, we can even watch the movie that is named after the dish.”

“But doesn’t Nik need to go to bed early?”

“Not too early, I’ll make dinner a little early so we can stay up to watch it. And then when it’s over Papa and I will put Niki and Nik to bed.” She was happy that the younger kids were sleeping through the night. Sylvie would already have gone home by then so she and Max could spend some time with Nico before he needed to go to bed.

“You promise?” He asked hopefully.

“I promise.” She reached for her phone when they were at a stop light and put in a note in her reminders app to go get vegetables for tomorrow.

They eventually pulled up to the house, Nico moving out of the backseat with his backpack in his hand while she left her laptop bag in the car, instead taking her purse and digging out her keys so they could get into the house. There was sound coming from the living room with the TV on, the sound of what had to be Dutch cartoons playing in the background.

“Hi Papa!” Nico greeted Max dropping his bag under the console where she had placed her keys. Nik let out an audible scream as she walked closer to where the living room was gated off. She walked closer to the sound and saw Niki standing holding onto Max’s pant leg. He could fully walk by himself but still liked hanging onto Max.

Max reached out and kissed his wife on the cheek and then passed Nik over so he could hug Nico.

“How was school?” Max asked while opening the baby gate.

“Good, Ms. Sazarrin had us read a menu in French during class,” Nico started to explain to Max while Y/N went to sit on the couch and read to the younger boys. She had slipped her heels off and curled her toes in pleasure, the leather of her shoes no longer restricting her toes.

In some ways she couldn’t think about wanting anything more than what she already had, she was happy just being a mom to the boys but she also knew how much Max wanted a daughter. Maybe her being pregnant this time would finally give Max that.

Her eyes went up from the book that she was reading to Nik who found more joy in just turning the pages than her actually reading it when her eyes met Max’s.

“How are you feeling?” He had asked. Nico had run off to the cabinet where his coloring books were.

“Better than this morning, I have some news. Don’t want to tell the kids yet.”

Max looked at her a little concerned.

“It’s nothing bad Max, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” He asked before Nik shoved one of his plastic toys into Max’s face. Max was quick to move his face so he wouldn’t get hit.

“Nik,” She said. “Don’t hurt Papa.”

Nik looked up at her and then over to Max before scooting on the blue area rug away from them and then stuck his hand in the open box of toys.

“I’m fine Max, I’m not dying.” Just pregnant, she thought.

“Which doctor did you go see? The primary or-”There was a small crash, and pieces of Lego scattered on the floor. Nik started picking up the large Lego’s that had fallen all over the floor, getting the fallen Lego’s out from under the couch was going to be annoying.

“My OBGYN, she says everything is fine. She’s putting me on some vitamin supplements, and I can pick them up within the week.”

“Vitamin supplements,” Max said with a small pause. “But the only time you are on those is when-” He cut himself off.

Max took a look at her, a long good look. And then she saw his eyes go a little wide. “But you haven’t had, not with…”

Max sounded just as shocked as she felt right now. She didn’t need to say the word pregnant for him to know that she was. He seemed to know her body well enough to not have to say anything else.

“You can say it Max, morning sickness.”

“What’s morning sickness?” Nico asked as he looked up from his coloring book.

“Mommy wasn’t feeling good this morning.” She answered. "So my tummy was upset."

“Are you sick Mama?”

“No Nico, I’m not sick.”

Neither her or Max say anything else about it until the kids have all gone to bed. Niki and Nik are in their shared room fast asleep and Nico is in his room with Sassy asleep on the other pillow at the edge of his bed with Jimmy lounging in the cat tree in the corner of Nico's room.

Max went into his "office" after they had put Nico to bed. She walks to the next room over from Nico's room to see Max sitting in his sim rig but the computer screen is turned off and his legs are up in his seat. She'll never understand how he can find laying in there comfortable.

She pulls up the rolling desk chair up to him as he's just scrolling on his phone. She slightly peaks over his shoulder to see him looking at a picture of what looks like her sonogram picture from earlier in the day.

"Dr. Casse sent this to my email. Congratulations Max! It said." He leans his head further back to look at her.

She so badly wants to tell him that she thinks that they're having a girl this time. This pregnancy feels different even if she is only eight weeks along.

"Do you think it's a girl?" He slowly asks as if he's afraid she'll say no.

"Yeah Max, I think it is."

He reaches for her and presses a kiss to her forehead. She knows how much Max wants a daughter, and although her body has no say in that, it's a little reassuring to know that her body is giving her signs early on that this may very well be happening.

"Just don't get upset if it isn't." She tells him. She doesn't want to get his hopes up if it turns out to be another boy.

He doesn't say anything to that because they both know it'll be a lie. He moves out of the chair and takes her hand so they can walk out of the room together.

Max helps her out of her pencil skirt by undoing the zipper, the black fabric falls from her body. She moved to pull off the red blouse, and then remembers that she left her shoes by the couch when she came home. Oh well, she can put them back in her closet in the morning. She collects her clothes and puts them in the hamper in her closet and instead of reaching for a pair of sweats she goes to Max's closet and pulls out one of his t-shirts to sleep in.

When she steps out of the closet Max is sitting on the edge of the bed turning his wedding band around his finger. She steps closer to him and then moves her fingers into his hair. He drops his hands and then presses his head into her abdomen.

"I know we used to joke that we couldn't control what gender the baby was but I really want this. I want a little girl that looks like you running around the house, I want to paint a bedroom pink with my own two hands. I want…" He trails off dropping his arms around her thighs, pulling her in closer.

For all the children that they have, to Max; their family wasn't complete without them having a daughter.

"If we're lucky we'll be able to find out if it's a girl by my next appointment." She muttered.

“Which is in?” He pulled away slightly.

“Four weeks, but it could be a little longer.” Max gave her a nod and then pulled her into bed with him.

"I don't care if I have to miss races or something else, I'm going to be there when we find out what we're having." Max promised as he buried his face into her neck. She's going to hold him to it.

June 26, 2028

Today her and Max were going to her 20 week appointment.

The boys would be with Sylvie while her and Max were at the doctor and Max had made reservations for them to go to lunch afterwards, just the two of them. The last time her and Max went to her last appointment the baby wasn’t in the right position to see the gender, Max had been disappointed that he would have to wait a little longer to find out what they were having.

So Max was going to go with her again today to see if they could finally see the gender.

“I can drive.” She offered taking the keys as they walked to Max’s black Audi.

He just pulled them from her fingers and then opened the passenger side door waiting for her to get in. She gave him a smile and then stepped inside of the car.

The drive over to Dr. Casse’s office was quiet, there was the local pop station playing on the radio before pulling up to the building where the doctor’s office was.

Her and Max sat in the car for a few minutes, “We can wait to find out next time.” She said.

Max just shook his head no. “I have something planned for us after. When the doctor asks, we’ll just have them put the results in an envelope. I want to wait until we get home to find out.”

She nodded at Max. He was obviously more nervous about this than she was.

They had gone up to Dr. Casse’s office and waited to be called into the exam room. The nurse called them back into one of the exam rooms and then took Y/N’s blood pressure, and a few other basic tests to make sure that she was healthy.

“She’ll be right in.” The nurse said. “She’s just finishing up with another patient.”

She gave the nurse a nod, and then felt Max reach for her hand after the nurse stepped out of the room. For someone who could handle high pressure situations while he was at work, Y/N could tell how nervous Max was right now.

She gave his hand a firm squeeze back before the petite blonde doctor entered the room looking at both of them.

The doctor ran over a few things, said that her vitals look good and was in the clear for a lot of the risks that could occur in the early stages of being pregnant.

“You're still only in your second trimester but your tests appear normal so as of right now, I have no concerns, just keep to your vitamins, and keep off the caffeine."

Y/N nodded at the doctor and Max’s grip on her hand loosened a little bit.

“Now, ready to see if we can find out the gender today?”

Both her and Max nodded.

Dr. Casse wheeled over the ultrasound machine. “Now have you guys decided how you want to find out? Piece of paper, me just telling you?”

“The paper, we want to be home when we find out.”

The doctor nodded and placed some of the cool gel on the wand. Y/N did her best to not flinch from the cold feeling.

“Everything is looking good in there. I would say that the baby is about the size of a banana right now, and I can see the gender so I’ll write it down for you and put it in an envelope so you can find out when you get home.”

Max’s shoulders seemed to drop a little at the doctor's words.

“Do you want a few updated sonogram pictures?” Both her and Max nodded.

From there the doctor gave Y/N a towel to wipe off the gel and let her get re-dressed.

“Are you still up for food?” Max asked.

“Yeah,” Y/N’s nerves about the baby’s gender hadn’t gone down but Max seemed a little more calm so she knew that she could eat something.

“I made reservations at Miramar Plage, it’s a bit of a drive.”

“It’s perfect Max,” Miramar Plage was where she and Max went on a date the first time that she flew out to Monaco to see him. It was right on the beach and they had a great menu from what she could remember.

“I was thinking about maybe walking into a store or two, pick out something for the baby.” He said as she moved to put her dress and shoes back on. She tried to slide her feet in but couldn’t do up the straps so Max went down on his knees and did them up for her.

“Yeah we can, I can message Renaldo and maybe we can get something from baby Dior. I still need to send Daniel’s wife a gift since we couldn’t go to her baby shower.” Renaldo was the sales associate that worked at the Dior store in Cannes. They normally had a better selection of pieces during the summer months than at the store in Monaco.

“You’ll pick something nice that I’m sure they will love.” Daniel and his wife just had a son a few months ago and they couldn’t come to the baby shower because Niki had gotten a nasty cold that they didn’t want to spread to anyone else.

The doctor handed over the white envelope and let them know that the pictures were also inside.

From there she and Max made the 1 hour drive to Miramar Plage in Cannes. Y/N had messaged Renaldo through WhatsApp and let him know that she would be coming into the store today to look at some baby clothes.

He texted her back with a thumbs up emoji and a see you when you get here.

So she and Max went to lunch, Max had steak and she had eggplant pasta.

“This is the last one?” Max asked her after finishing the last bite of his steak.

She immediately looked down at her growing bump. “Yeah, I think this is that last one.”

Four kids in 8 years was enough.

“Now, why do you want to drag me shopping? You hate shopping.”

Max slightly shook his head. “I hate shopping for me, I like shopping for you.”

She just took a sip of her water. Max always did a good job when it came to shopping for her. All she had to do was look down at her engagement ring for the proof.

“Is that why we’re going to Dior? So you can pick something out for me?” She asked.

Max gave her a shrug and then caught the waiter's attention to ask for the check.

They were back in the car in the next half-an hour. Max had re-parked the car so they could end up walking into the stores along the Bd de la Croisette. They eventually made it into Dior after Max started to complain that his feet were hurting after she had him walk into a few other stores.

She let Max find a seat, and they were immediately offered water and some snakes before Y/N saw Renaldo come out of the back room. She gave the Spaniard sales associate a wave.

“I’ll be back.” she said to Max, noticing that he took the white envelope with the gender results out of her purse and stuffed them into the back pocket of his jeans.

She walked over to the section of the store where they had all of the baby Dior clothes for boys. She saw a pair of toddler size sneakers and a little zip up hoodie that she thought would be perfect for Daniel’s son David.

She wandered around the store for a few more minutes looking at the new limited edition Lady Dior bags that they had before going back to Max with the items that she had picked out for David.

Renaldo had just walked away from where Max had been sitting to see him now at the counter looking at the women’s accessories.

“Find anything?” She said walking up to him.

Max turned to look at her. “Yes, but it’s a surprise when we get home.”

What could Max’s surprise be? They still hadn’t opened the gender results for the baby.

Renaldo came back out of the back room with a white box that had a Dior ribbon around it. What did Max just spend money on? She thought.

“Pink if it’s a girl and blue if it’s a boy.” The sales associate said to them both. He was buying her a bag to find out the gender of the baby.

Max paid for her mystery bag and the clothes for David before they were back in the car on the way home. The 1 hour drive back to the house seemed to go by rather fast. They were pulling up to the driveway and the warm Monaco air seemed to finally hit her when they were walking inside of the house. Max had the bags in his hands.

The house was quiet, the only sound being the low hum of the air conditioner.

They looked into the living room to see toys spread over the large couch and the doors open to the backyard. Nico was running around kicking his soccer ball while it looked like Niki was trying and failing to chase after his older brother. Sylvie was sitting on her phone while it looked like Nik was taking a nap on the couch next to her.

Y/N walked out into the backyard and sat on the couch next to Nik. Sylvie looked up from her phone and then to her.

“How was your appointment?” She asked.

“It was good.” Y/N replied.

Max had come out a few moments later, changed out of his jeans into athletic shorts and walked towards Nico and Niki to play with them for a bit.

“Did you find out if it is a boy or a girl?”

“Not yet. Max took me to Dior to pick out a few things, and set it up so the color of the bag he got me matches the gender of the baby.”

“Aww that is very sweet.”

They had all stayed outside for a while longer before Nico started to complain that he was hungry. Max had carried Nik inside while Sylvie had taken the toys back inside and Y/N started making an early dinner.

“Are you staying for dinner Sylvie?” Y/N asked.

“No, I have plans with Pierre. He’s taking me out but let me know when you open up the box.”

“Of course.”

“Just don’t tell Pierre, there is a bet about the gender on the grid group chat.” Max replied before Sylvie reached for her bag and said goodbye to the kids.

“Does that mean that if I get a sister, her room is going to be where Papa’s office is?” Nico asked, watching as Y/N made dinner.

“Well, Nico. Probably not.” Y/N said before Max took over speaking.

“Your Mama and I were thinking that we would move all your furniture into the room that Oma stays in when she visits and the new baby could have your room.”

“But Oma’s room is so much bigger than mine and it’s not even on the same floor.”

“You are the oldest Nico, and the new baby will have to sleep on the same floor as Papa and I, we can’t just leave the baby anywhere.” Y/N was hoping that her and Max didn’t need to tell him that he was getting bigger and it may be a good idea for him to have a little more independence around the house. He was good about making his own bed, cleaning up after the cats, and playing with his brothers without being rough with them. He had earned it.

“Can I get a new bed, or a hot wheels track on my walls like Greyson Archibald?” Nico started to ask while bring up one of the kids in his class.

“We’ll see. Papa and I still have to pay off the yacht, and we’re also building the guest house so Auntie Vic and Uncle Tom can stay when they visit.” Her and Max had a lot of money put into projects around the house.

“Okay,” Nico slowly said, “But can I at least choose the paint in my room. I don’t like the light blue anymore.”

“Sure!” Max answered before looking over at Y/N. What had they just done?

Everything was winding down for them. Nico was planning to watch a movie with Niki, they got into a fight about which one to watch.

“Woody!” Niki yelled, shoving the plush toy into his older brother's face.

“Nuhu, Star Wars. I want to see Luke take on Darth Vader!”

“Nico, can you let him watch Toy Story? He needs to go to bed before you.” Y/N asked.

“But Papa and I are watching them together.”

“I know, but he’ll fall asleep faster if you let him watch.” She looked at Niki and he was already rubbing his eyes. “After that you and Papa can watch Star Wars.”

Nico eventually relented. The kids were watching the movie and her and Max went into the kitchen to open the box that they had gotten at Dior.

“I think you should open it.” She said moving the box closer to Max.

“No, mijn leeuwin. It’s for you. You should open it.” He said moving the box closer to her.

Y/N moved to pull the ribbon from the box and saw a note on a white card,

Congratulations on your exciting news y/n!

- Love, The Dior Cannes Team

She let the ribbon fall away from the box and then opened it, the crisp white tissue paper against her fingers. She undid the sticker that held the tissue paper together and then started to move it away from the white dust bag in the box.

She moved her hand into the white bag and started to pull the handbag out when she saw the edge of a twilly peaking out in pastel purple and… pink. She lifted the bag out further to see a pink Lady Dior bag with its gold hardware giving off a nice shimmer in the low lighting of the kitchen.

“Max,” Is all she can say before he’s pulling her in closer to him. His lips are on hers within a few seconds and it feels like he’s trying to devour her. His hands on her hips and brushing over her hair.

“Thank you,” She hears him say when he starts to pull away from her. His hands go to her abdomen running over the growing bump. She moves her arms around his neck and presses a few quick kisses to his lips.

She shakes her head at his words. She didn’t do anything, this was all him. “You wanted this Max. You wanted her.”

She looks at him to see a few tears spilling from his eyes. He moves his head onto her shoulder.

“I did, I wanted our little girl.” He muttered into her hair.

Y/N let her own tears start to fall, she had been so concerned that if they didn’t have a girl Max would react horribly. But know that she knows they’re having a girl. She’s letting herself finally be happy with the result.

She pulls away from him just a bit and starts to laugh. “Be ready to have a lot more pink in your life.”

He lets out a quick breath, “Well, I did ask for this.” with a small shrug of his shoulders. She nods back at him and then he kisses her cheek with his hands settling on her hips.

She knows that they have more to talk about. Like a name, and who the baby’s god parents are going to be, maybe it’s time to fulfill Lando’s wish of being a god parent. But for now she’ll enjoy the moment.

Her and Max leave the unpacked box and bag on the counter and join their other children in the living room.

“Star Wars!” Nico yells as her and Max move to sit on the couch.

She knows that their family will be complete by the end of the year, she can feel it.

November 19 - 20, 2028

“Grandma GG!” Nico said, running up to Geri as her and Christian walked through the door of the house.

“Nico,” She greeted the boy, opening her arms for him. She hugged him and her eyes darted around the room for the other two boys that were in the house.

Geri had let Nico go and then he ran to Christian for a hug. “I missed you Grandpa.”

Christian gave Nico a hug back. “Missed you too,” Christian said even though he had seen Nico a couple weeks ago.

“Where are the other kids?” The redhead had asked you.

You had led Geri into the living room to see Niki playing with a set of building blocks, and Nik was taking a nap in his swing.

“Oh Y/N, they’re precious. Can’t believe that you're pregnant with one more.” She said taking a seat on the couch that was pressed against the windows.

“The last one,” After finding out that you and Max were having a girl, you had both agreed that four kids was enough.

“You excited to have a girl?” “A bit, Max seems more excited than me.”

“When are you due again?”

“Next week on Wednesday. The last race is on Sunday, three days after.”

“You guys always cut it close when the season ends or breaks happen.” Y/N was always grateful that her pregnancies seemed to find an off way of aligning with Max’s schedule somehow.

“I feel bad taking him away from you, Y/N.” Christian said, taking a seat on the couch. “Can always tell Max to stay home and we can call up one of the other drivers from the junior team? I’m sure Yuki wouldn’t mind having a go in Max’s car for the weekend.”

“Leave my wife out of this Christian, she’s too close to her due date.” Max said, handing Christain a beer.

“I’m just saying, in case something happens. We’ve already won another Constructors, I am more than happy for Oscar to take the Drivers Championship this year.”

It was odd to hear Christian be so content with Max not possibly winning this year's drivers championship.

“And let Red Bull’s arch nemesis Zac Brown win? Surprising,” Y/N said with a laugh.

“Well, we’ll see what happens.” It was only after 2024 that the McLaren and Red Bull rivalry on track started to heat up. Max was still friends with Oscar and Lando when there weren’t races going on.

“Grandpa, can you play cars with me?” Nico asked, holding out a little red Aston Martin.

“Sure, but just until your Mum has dinner ready.” Christian replied before following Nico into his “new” bedroom.

“Oh Y/N, can I see the baby's room now that it’s complete? I know you’ve sent me some pictures.”

“Yes, mijn leeuwin, you should show her,” Max suggested. Y/N knew how proud Max was of painting the walls and putting all of the furniture together by himself before the baby got here. “I can watch Nik and then take the food out when it deeps.”

Geri helped Y/N down the stairs before walking into the baby’s room.

Y/N moved to sit in the rocking chair that had been moved out of Niki and Nik’s room into here after Max had finished painting the walls a light pastel pink that went with the white furniture.

“I miss this stuff from when Bluebell was little,” Geri said, holding up a small pair of baby Christian Louboutin’s that had been gifted to them from one of Y/N’s colleges.

“You should have seen some of the things Max and I returned a few months ago.”

“Anything crazy?” Geri asked, straightening the blanket that was hung over the side of the crib.

“One of the traders that works on the same floor as me got us a fine china set from Hermés for her. That was an immediate return,” She knew all too well that it would be cute to have but would never get used and if it was would need to be hand washed.

“What? What do they think you're going to use that for?” Geri asked.

“No idea,” Y/N said with a laugh and then laid her hand over her bump to feel a kick from the baby.

“Max did a really good job in here. I can tell how excited he is.” Y/N took another look around the room to all of the baby clothes hung in the closet, the plush pink horse in the crib. Max took so much pride in the time that he got to spend here getting it ready for their daughter.

“Yeah, he’s really excited. I think he’s really thinking about not going to the race in case I go into labor early.”

Geri gave her a small hug. “These things happen when they need to. Don’t stress about it without a reason.”

Her and Geri walked back upstairs to Max pulling the lasagna out of the oven and setting it on the dining room table.

“Boys, food is ready!” Max yelled into the living room.

Nico and Niki came walking in. Christian was holding Nik who was sleepily rubbing at his eyes.

“Mama,” Niki said, reaching for her. “Want to sit with Papa.”

She helped Niki over to the table and settled him so he could sit in one of the chairs by himself. Everyone was starting to sit down while Max moved to get Nik’s food out of the fridge, it was pureed squash.

Nico and Niki were eating through the lasagna, Max would blow on a piece of the lasagna for Niki however more of it just ended up on his shirt then in his mouth. 

Geri had offered to go and change Niki out of his ruined clothes while Max cleared the table. Christian was showing Nico a video on his phone about the new kid who would be taking the F2 seat for Red Bull this year.

“Do you want coffee or something?” Y/N asked as if she was getting ready to move from her seat.

“I can put the kettle on, don’t worry Y/N” Geri said walking back into the kitchen with Niki already in his pajamas.

Y/N watched as Geri insisted on filling the kettle with water and set it to boil.

Max and Christian had disappeared downstairs and Geri had gone to the restroom. The kettle finally sang when it was boiling hot, Y/N had slowly moved from her chair and turned the stove off. She left the kettle where it was and reached for the brawer where all of the coffee and tea was.

She had just started to reach into the cabinet above to grab cups as the all too familiar pain filled her abdomen. Braxton Hicks, she knew the drill. She took a few deep breaths and it seemed to fade away.

She was able to get another two mugs down before Geri rejoined her in the kitchen.

“Sweetheart, you doing okay?” She asked as she moved closer to Y/N.

“Braxton Hicks, I’ll be fine.” Y/N replied, trying to shake the feeling off.

Eventually Geri filled her mug with some herbal tea and lemon from the trees in the backyard.

“I know, I just think that the times are off. When I go into the corner, I’m supposed to be able to go flat out and it’s not giving that.” Y/N heard Max telling Christian.

Her and Geri looked at each other and shared a smile.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve told GP.” Christian started to say. “See, so we’ll wait until we're at the track on Friday, I’m sure the team at the factory also saw the numbers and are working on a solution.”

“It just could be better is all I’m saying.”

“I know Max.” Christian said as they re-entered the kitchen.

Y/N had sat down and Niki had moved to rest his head against her thigh. Her and Geri both made it through a cup of tea before sitting up straight wasn’t comfortable anymore. Max was first to offer to help her go to the living room.

“Max, I'm fine.” she said, holding her back and took a few steps forward.

A few minutes later Geri had followed Y/N to the living room to see her standing in a puddle of amniotic fluid. Looks like her water just broke.

“I’ll get Max.” Geri had said after setting the cups down on the closest table.

About half an hour later Christian and Geri were still at the house saying that they would stay the night and put the boys to bed.

“We’ll come by the hospital in the morning,” Christian said as Max went to put Y/N’s bag in the car.

“We appreciate this.” Max said.

“It’s what family does Max. Now go be with your wife, because the moment your daughter is born, it’s going to change your whole world.” Christian patted Max on the back as Geri had helped Y/N into the car.

It was two hours later that they were already at the hospital still waiting to hear from a part of the medical staff and Y/N was squeezing his hand every minute or two.

“You doing okay?” Max asked

She shook her head no.

“Want me to get a nurse? I know they checked you over and they said you’re only a few centimeters dilated-" Max didn’t get to finish his sentence before Y/N let out a loud wimper. Max immediately moved out of his seat towards where the nurses desk was.

“I’ll be right back.” He said and kissed her sweaty forehead.

Max moved up to a nurse, “Hi, my wife is in labor and I was wondering if I could get an update on her epidural?”

The nurse gave him a questioning look before she looked to where Y/N was sitting. “Oh, umm let me go check if the anesthesiologist is ready to give it to her and if they are we’ll get her into a room for delivery prep.”

Max gave her a nod back and then walked back to Y/N.

“So?” She asked, looking up at him.

“They’re waiting for the anesthesiologist.” She nodded at him and then dropped her head to his shoulder.

It took another half an hour before they were ushered into a room and did another check.

“5 centimeters, halfway there. Looks like you’re ready for the epidural.” The anesthesiologist said and moved to reach for a needle. Max kept holding Y/N’s hand and saw her try to stop herself from moving forward from the needle going into her skin.

“Better?” He asked her. She still shook her head no.

“Give it about 10 to 15 minutes, it should start to dissipate." One of the nurses said.

Max kept an eye on his watch and 30 minutes had passed, Y/N had turned onto her side. A nurse had come in a few minutes ago and checked her and found out that she was fully dilated and ready to start pushing.

“Max,” he heard her whimper. She looked at him and reached for his hand. “Get a nurse.”

Max gave her a nod. He let go of her hand despite the fact that he felt like he shouldn’t.

“Can I get some help? My wife seems to be in pain.”

A nurse looked into the room, “Has she been given an epidural?”

“Yes, but she-” He had been cut off.

“Give it a bit more. She could just be experiencing some back pain.”

“It’s been 30 minutes since she got it, and she’s already in labor.”

Two nurses shared a look before one of them reached for a phone and started to talk to someone.

“Ahh!” Max heard coming from Y/N’s room before another nurse walked in to see her holding her stomach. The first thing a nurse did was look at a monitor to see the read out on a machine.

“SHIT!” The nurse said before pressing a button.

It was like a haze had set over Y/N’s room before he heard something that made his stomach drop and feel unbearably heavy.

“The baby’s heart rate is dropping!” He heard being yelled in the room.

WHAT? He thought. Her heart rate was dropping? They needed to do something, NOW!

“Get the father out of here, she needs to deliver now and get the baby out so the heart rate doesn’t drop anymore. Her contractions are putting her body under more stress.”

Max could only stand there before a nurse made him leave the room.

“Mr. Verstappen,” He heard muffled in his ears. “We’re going to do… everything that we can to make sure that they’re both healthy.” The nurse kept talking to him as he heard Y/N still yelling as he was led into the waiting room of the maternity ward.

Max tried his best to nod at the nurse before being left in the waiting room. 

It had been a long 5 hours after Max had been rushed out of Y/N’s delivery room after complaining to one of the nurses that something was wrong with his wife. Something had gone wrong while she had been trying to deliver the baby. The nurse had pulled Max out of the room trying to calm him down while he could hear Y/N in pain.

He had been standing in the hallway of the maternity ward in the light blue scrubs they had given to him, pacing, and occasionally checking his phone.

After 2 hours, he had called his mom asking her not to bring the boys to the hospital yet. He wanted to wait for the doctors to come out and tell him what was going on with his wife. Sophie, however, insisted that she be with him, and let Christian and Geri watch over the boys while she was with her son.

She showed up a few minutes ago and watched as Max wandered the hallway waiting to hear any news.

“Mr. Verstappen.” He heard in his native Dutch.

Max perked his head up to see Y/N’s doctor standing before him in what looked like relatively clean scrubs.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to let you know that your wife is fine.” The words made Max’s chest deflate letting out a big breath. “While the birth was going on, we found out that the epidural hadn’t worked on her, putting her under stress and making the baby’s heart rate drop. So, your wife had to deliver naturally.”

“They okay?” His mom asked.

Max couldn’t think. There had been a chance that he could have lost you and the baby. He couldn’t imagine it. Not just him losing you but the boys as well.

“Both mother and baby are doing well. We had a small scare, but they’re both healthy. I can take you back to see them.”

Max nodded before following the doctor down the hall. They ended up at a wooden door with a window that peaked into the room. Max could barely make out what you looked like.

“Max.” His mother said. He looked back at her before she gave him a hug to try to calm him down before he walked into the room. His mother spoke into his ear, “Try to remember that she’s okay, they both are.”

Max pulled the handle of the door slowly walking into the room. Y/N was slightly sitting up in bed with a bundle of blankets on her chest. He made slow tentative steps towards the bed, pulling the empty chair to your side so he could sit next to you.

He dropped his head next to your lap and could feel one of your hands start to run through his hair. Max took a few small, fast breaths taking in the sterile smell of detergent and soap on the sheets. He lifted his head up to see her holding a bundle of blankets with a small pink cap peeking out from the bundle.

“You’re so strong.” He stuttered out as he sat by your side. He reached out and laid his hand over yours that covered part of the baby‘s back.

“I wasn’t the first two times?” You joked. He did his best to chuckle along, pushing the fear of losing you away. He felt terrified hearing your screams in the hallway from the pain.

Max couldn’t help but marvel at the bundle of blankets against your chest. Every time that another child of his came into the world it felt surreal.

“Always, mijn leewin. You are always strong.” Moving to rest his head against your shoulder. He would have tried to climb into the hospital bed with you but didn’t want to move the baby in your arms.

“Do you want to hold her?” You asked him. He could see that you were making a move to pass her over.

Max was careful about taking the baby from you. He placed her into the crook of his arm, holding her head up with his hand. He had a daughter.

Max looked up at Sophie to see a tear run down her cheek.

“Finally a girl in the family?” She asked in English. You nodded at her before the sound of a knock came from outside of the door.

It was the doctor here to check on you. She went over the epidural scare that had happened, and said that you were lucky to still have the local anesthesia in your system.

“Your husband did a great job after you told him that you could feel that the epidural wasn’t working. Went straight to a nurse, we caught that your daughter’s heart rate was dropping and everything ran smoothly after. We were able to deliver her with no complications.” Max saw you reach over for his hand. He moved the baby down a bit, and then clasped your hands together. He could feel your wedding band on your finger, and ran one of his fingers over it. He had never been more grateful for the light almost biting feeling of the diamonds pressing into his skin more than he was now.

Max could feel his mother’s eyes on him but said nothing to her. He thanked the doctor for coming in to check on you.

“I’m just happy that you’re both okay.” He said holding the baby closer to his chest. “I was so worried when they told me that her heart rate had dropped.”

Max looked down at their daughter.

“She was worth it Max, all the pain made it worth it.”

Max leaned up and kissed Y/N on the lips muttering a silent Thank You.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys.” The doctor said taking the folder with her. “You have a fighter on your hands.” She motioned to the bundle in Max’s arms.

Max gave the doctor half a smile back. He saw Y/N leaning back into her pillow more with a small smile spreading over her lips.

“Mum?” Max asked. “Want to hold your granddaughter?"

Sophie shifted forward, standing a little straighter and then walked closer to Max.

“I would love to.” She said.

Max moved out of the chair, and then Sophie sat down in it before placing the baby in her waiting arms.

“Halo, schetje.” The little girl had seemed to find a way of moving her hand out of the bundle and Sophie’s hand brushed hers.

Max had been standing on the other side of the bed watching his mother and his daughter before placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. He was lucky to be surrounded by such strong women in his life.

“Max,” Y/N said.

“Hmm?” He hummed in question.

“I think you should pick her name.” Max’s eyebrows went up at her words. She wanted him to pick her name.

Max gave himself a few minutes trying to run through all of the possible names and combinations that they discussed, and there was one configuration that he kind of liked.

“Nicole?” He said with a slight question in his voice. “Nicole Victoria Sonja.” He got out a little clearer.

When they had talked about names originally Max had brought up the idea of having her be named after either his sister or his mum. It took looking at Nicole to know that he wanted to name her after both of them but knew that his mother would never accept it. She would say it was too much, so he would give his daughter the closest thing to it.

“I think it’s perfect.” He heard his wife say.

Max gave her a smile and moved to sit on the edge of her bed so he could watch his mother and daughter while holding his wife’s hand. Soon Nicole would be able to meet the rest of her family in her brothers, other grandparents, aunt, uncle and cousins. For now, he was happy to just be sitting in the hospital room after the earlier stressful hours of this morning.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca, @princessria127, @mysticalnightenthusiast, @green-thots, @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp, @ellelabelle, @lilypat, @dreamercrowd

[redwineandflowers]

Chat do we want Marlene lore?

You're getting it anyway

Name: Marlene Baretto

Full name: Marlene Bianca Baretto

Nickname(s): Mari, Mar, Lene

Ethnicity: Italian-German (Italian dad, German mom)

Hair texture: Curly (3a/3b)

Skin shade: Tan (Well tanned)

Eye color: Green

Occupation: Reporter/Journalist for SkySports

Age: Unspecified, 20s

Prior education: Bachelors in foreign languages and literature, as well as an associates in political sciences from the University of Bologna

Grew up in: Monza, Italy

Other lore:

-Borders reflect her personality

-Extroverted

-Feminine

-Loud

-Social butterfly

-Loves her lipgloss

-Has struggled with her mental health in the past

-Anxiety

Any questions??

(dividers by @bernardsbendystraws)

[mrsfancyferrari]

Need Saving

Summary: You are the first woman to be racing in Formula 1 and you and Max are already best friends. To Jos' dismay.

Song: Me and Your Mama by Childish Gambino

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Author’s note: CW: sexist comments, domestic violence (not from Max). I'm still salty about Daniel Ricciardo's exit to Formula 1 so I decided to add him a little here. THIS WILL BE A SERIES AND THANK YOU FOR THE 500 FOLLOWERS! Please like, reblog and share this! <3 ALSO IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!

Word count: 10.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

You are making history as the first woman to compete in Formula 1 with the Red Bull team, stepping in for Sergio Perez.

This groundbreaking achievement not only highlights your talent but also paves the way for future generations of female racers in a sport traditionally dominated by men.

Your personality shines through with a warm and friendly demeanor that makes you incredibly approachable. Colleagues and fans alike find you likable, creating an inviting atmosphere wherever you go.

This charm not only endears you to those around you but also helps foster a supportive environment within the competitive world of racing

Some have affectionately dubbed you the "Mini Honey Badger," a nod to the legendary Daniel Ricciardo. This playful comparison reflects your fierce determination and tenacity on the track, qualities that resonate with fans and fellow racers.

Your unique blend of charisma and competitive spirit is sure to leave a lasting impression in the world of Formula 1.

Luckily, you found yourself paired with one of the most talented drivers in the sport, Max Verstappen.

From the very beginning, you and Max clicked effortlessly, perhaps due to your shared sense of humor or the lighthearted way you both approached life outside of racing.

Max, known for his fierce competitiveness on the track, also had a playful side that drew you in. Whether it was sharing funny anecdotes from your childhood or engaging in friendly banter about each other's driving styles, the connection felt natural and invigorating.

You both understood the pressures of the sport, yet you managed to find joy in the little moments, whether it was a shared laugh over a silly meme or a light-hearted debate about the best racing video games.

This bond not only made your time together enjoyable but also fostered a sense of trust and teamwork that would prove invaluable as the season progressed.

During your initial week in Formula 1, the team was treated to a mix of corny jokes and uproarious laughter, creating an atmosphere that was both fun and relaxed.

It was clear that the camaraderie between you two was something special, and it didn’t take long for everyone to notice. The garage, usually filled with the tension of competition, transformed into a space of joy and lightheartedness.

You and Max would often engage in playful challenges, like who could come up with the worst dad joke or who could impersonate the team’s engineers the best.

These moments not only broke the ice but also helped to build a strong team spirit.

The mechanics and engineers, who often worked long hours under pressure, found themselves smiling more often, and the overall morale of the team improved.

It was as if your infectious energy had a ripple effect, reminding everyone that while racing was serious business, it was also about passion, fun, and the love of the sport.

Christian Horner, the team principal, seemed to recognize this chemistry right away.

He confidently remarked to the media about the dynamic of having a girl and a boy on the same team, suggesting that he had a good feeling about the partnership.

His words resonated with the fans and the media alike, sparking conversations about the evolving landscape of motorsport and the importance of diversity within the sport. It was evident that the two of you were destined to make waves together on and off the track.

Christian’s faith in your partnership only fueled your determination to succeed.

You both knew that the expectations were high, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, you embraced the challenge.

"Joseph, can you give me an update on the gap behind?" you inquired, your voice steady as it crackled through the radio to your race engineer.

The sound of your own heartbeat echoed in your ears, a reminder of the high stakes at play.

"You're looking at a 5-second lead over Norris, Y/N," Joseph Duke responded, his tone calm and focused.

As you navigated the track, the adrenaline surged through your veins, heightening your senses.

The smell of burning rubber and the roar of engines filled the air, but your focus remained solely on the asphalt ahead.

Max was currently leading the race, and you were right on his tail, just a heartbeat away from making a decisive move.

With the world championship points on the line, every second counted, and the team’s strategy was crucial.

"Copy that, Joseph. I’m feeling good about this pace. Should I push to overtake Max?" you asked, weighing your options.

The tension in the air was palpable, and you could almost hear the roar of the crowd in your mind, their cheers and gasps fueling your determination.

You could picture the fans waving flags, the excitement building as the race unfolded.

"Remember, he’s leading the championship, so those points are vital for him," Joseph reminded you, his voice steady and measured.

You took a deep breath, considering the risks and rewards of your next move. The thought of overtaking Max was tantalizing, but the consequences of a miscalculation loomed large.

"Understood. But if I don’t make a move soon, he might pull away," you replied, your mind racing through the possibilities.

You could see the track ahead, the curves and straightaways that could either make or break your race.

"Just keep your head in the game, Y/N. Focus on your lines and stay patient. The opportunity will come," Joseph advised, his experience guiding you through the chaos.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, reminding yourself that patience was key.

As you approached the next turn, you felt the car respond to your every command, the tires gripping the asphalt with precision.

You could see Max’s car just ahead, a flash of blue and white, and the urge to push harder surged within you.

"Alright, I’ll hold back for now, but I’m ready when the moment strikes," you said, determination lacing your words.

The opportunity to seize the grand prix had slipped through your fingers, leaving you with a bittersweet taste of second place as Max celebrated his victory.

It wasn’t that you felt anger towards him; after all, the stakes were high, and the competition was fierce.

You had performed admirably, even outshining Checo this season, and Red Bull was finally back to their P1-P2 glory.

As you stepped out of your car, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you spotted Max waiting for you, his helmet off and a look of concern etched on his face.

He rushed over, his expression serious as he enveloped you in a quick hug. “You don’t hate me, do you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the unexpected question. Removing your helmet, you met his gaze with a warm smile. “Of course not! But don’t think I’ll go easy on you next week,” you replied playfully, your competitive spirit igniting once more.

Max’s face lit up with a genuine smile, the tension dissipating. “Mate, I won’t go down that easy!” he shot back, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of rivalry.

As you made your way to celebrate with the team, you noticed the difference in how they treated you compared to Max. While he was hoisted into the air, receiving enthusiastic cheers and bone-crushing hugs, you felt a more cautious approach directed your way.

It was a subtle reminder of the gender dynamics at play in the sport. You brushed it off, focusing instead on the camaraderie and the shared passion that brought you all together.

The post-race atmosphere was electric, filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional shout of joy.

You joined in the celebrations, clapping your hands and cheering for your teammates, but a part of you remained introspective.

You replayed the race in your mind, analyzing every corner, every overtaking maneuver, and every missed opportunity.

The thrill of competition was intoxicating, but so was the desire to prove yourself, not just to the team but to the world.

As the evening unfolded, you found yourself lingering at the periphery of the lively celebration, your gaze fixed on Max as he reveled in the spotlight of his victory.

He was the star of the night, the one everyone clamored to congratulate, while you stood in the shadows, merely the second driver.

Christian approached, giving your shoulder a friendly pat, a gesture of appreciation for your support. Yet, it felt insufficient.

You masked your feelings with a bright smile as you watched Max raise his glass, laughter spilling from his lips as the clock inched toward midnight.

“Goodnight, Max,” you called out, aware that your boyfriend, Jake would be less than pleased if you lingered too long.

“Goodnight, best friend! Did I mention you look lovely tonight?” Max replied, his words slightly slurred as he pulled you into a warm embrace.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No, you didn’t! Thank you, Max. You look great too!” you managed to say, your heart fluttering at the compliment.

As the night wore on, you exchanged goodbyes with the others, the atmosphere buzzing with joy and celebration.

You decided it was time to head home, opting for a taxi since you had indulged in a few drinks earlier.

Once inside the cab, you leaned back against the seat, reflecting on the evening. The laughter, the cheers, and the way Max had shone like a beacon of success.

It was hard not to feel a twinge of envy, but you pushed it aside, reminding yourself of the bond you shared.

The driver navigated through the city streets, and you pulled out your phone, scrolling through the photos from the night.

There was Max, grinning ear to ear, surrounded by friends, and there you were, a supportive figure in the background.

Just as the car turned, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you glanced down to see a message from Jake.

“Where are you?” he texted, the words appearing on your screen like a gentle reminder of the warmth waiting for you at home.

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection as you typed back, “Just left the party! On my way home now. Can’t wait to see you!”

The taxi weaved through the city streets, and you could almost picture him waiting for you, perhaps pacing a little, his brow furrowed in that adorable way he did when he was worried.

You could hear his voice in your head, teasing you about how you always took too long to say goodbye, but you knew he loved it just as much as you did.

As the taxi pulled up to your building, you felt a flutter of excitement. You paid the driver and hurried inside, your heart racing with anticipation.

As you stepped into the apartment, a heavy scent of alcohol hit you like a wave, and your heart sank.

The cheerful anticipation you had felt moments before evaporated, replaced by a knot of anxiety in your stomach. You knew Jake had been struggling lately, and the telltale signs of his mood were all around you.

Empty bottles cluttered the coffee table, their labels peeling and faded, remnants of nights spent drowning sorrows that seemed to multiply with each passing day.

Taking a deep breath, you cautiously made your way further inside, hoping to find a glimmer of the warmth you once cherished, a flicker of the love that had once filled this space.

“Hey, babe, I’m home!” you called out, trying to inject some cheer into the atmosphere, but your voice felt small and fragile against the oppressive silence that enveloped the room.

The silence that followed was deafening, and you could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

Just then, he emerged from the shadows of the living room, his eyes glassy and unfocused, as if he were peering through a fog that had settled deep within him.

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, each word laced with bitterness. “Did you have fun pretending to be normal out there?”

You felt a chill run down your spine as he continued, hurling insults that cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

It was as if he was trying to push you away, to create a chasm between you that felt insurmountable.

And yet, amidst the hurt, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man you loved, the one who was lost beneath layers of pain and anger.

“Why do you always have to do this?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly, the vulnerability in your tone betraying the strength you wished to project. “I just want to help you.”

He scoffed, dismissing your concern with a wave of his hand, the gesture almost theatrical in its disdain. “Help? You mean control. You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything? You’re just like everyone else, trying to tell me what to do.”

The words stung, and you felt the weight of his accusations pressing down on you, each syllable a reminder of the distance that had grown between you.

“I’m not trying to control you,” you replied softly, “I just want to be there for you. Can’t we talk about this?”

But as you looked into his eyes, you realized that the man you once knew was slipping further away, lost in a haze of his own making.

His gaze, once so full of life and passion, now seemed clouded, distant. It was as if he was peering through a murky window, unable or unwilling to see the vibrant world outside.

You could see the shadows of his struggles etched on his face, the lines of worry and anger deepening with each passing day. It pained you to witness this transformation, to see the light in him dimmed by his own fears and insecurities.

“Why can’t you see that I’m trying to help?” you pressed, your heart racing as desperation crept into your voice. “I’m not your enemy. I want to understand what you’re going through.”

You took a tentative step closer, hoping to bridge the gap that felt insurmountable.

But he recoiled slightly, as if your words were a physical blow, and the distance between you felt more pronounced than ever.

“Understand?” he scoffed, his tone laced with bitterness. “You think you can just waltz in and understand? You have no idea what it’s like to feel trapped, to have every choice taken from you. You don’t know the weight of this burden.”

His voice cracked, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the bravado.

As soon as you opened your mouth to speak, Jake brushed by you, grabbing his coat and shoes in one swift motion.

"I'm heading out for a walk. Don't even think about following me," he snapped, his words laced with the sting of alcohol.

You simply nodded, feeling a mix of concern and frustration, but you stayed rooted in place until you heard the door slam shut behind him.

With the sound echoing in the silence, you finally exhaled, the tension in your chest easing just a bit. You glanced around the room, the remnants of the night scattered everywhere—empty bottles and crumpled napkins littered the floor.

"Guess it's cleanup time," you muttered to yourself, bending down to gather the bottles. As you worked, your mind raced with thoughts of him.

Just then, your phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from your best friend, Sarah.

"Hey! How's everything? You okay?"

You sighed, typing back quickly. "Not great. He just stormed out after a fight. I’m cleaning up the mess now."

A moment later, your phone chimed again. "Want me to come over? I can help."

You hesitated, glancing at the door. "No, it’s fine. I just need to sort things out."

"Are you sure? You shouldn’t be alone right now."

You paused, considering her words. "I’ll be okay. I just need to think."

As you continued to tidy up, you replayed the argument in your mind. It had started over something trivial, but the alcohol had turned it into a full-blown fight.

You could hear his voice in your head, the way he had raised his tone, the way he had dismissed your feelings.

"Why does he always do this?" you whispered to yourself, frustration bubbling up again.

You were well aware that he wouldn’t be returning anytime soon.

After tidying up the house, you decided to treat yourself to a long, relaxing bath.

The warm water enveloped you, washing away the day’s worries. Once you felt refreshed, you slipped into your favorite pajamas and crawled into bed, the soft sheets providing a comforting embrace.

He hadn’t always been this way—filled with anger and lost in the depths of alcoholism.

You both had shared a beautiful love story, starting as high school sweethearts. You could still remember the way he used to look at you, his eyes sparkling with affection, mirroring the love you felt for him.

As you lay there, memories flooded your mind. You recalled the laughter, the late-night talks, and the dreams you had built together. But now, those dreams felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by the weight of his struggles.

Maybe it was the pressure of work that was taking a toll on him. You thought back to the last time you had a heart-to-heart.

“Do you remember when we used to talk about our future?” you had asked him one evening, the two of you sitting on the porch, the sun setting in a blaze of colors.

He had sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I remember. It feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Things can get better, you know. We can work through this together,” you had urged, your heart aching for the man you once knew.

He had looked away, his expression clouded. “I don’t know if I can. Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to swim anymore.”

You had reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, always.”

But as the days turned into weeks, the distance between you grew. The man you loved was slipping away, replaced by someone you barely recognized.

Now, lying in bed, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find his way back to you. Would he remember the love you once shared? Would he fight against the demons that haunted him?

With a heavy heart, you closed your eyes, hoping that tomorrow would bring a glimmer of hope, a sign that the man you loved was still inside, waiting to break free.

As you settled into bed, the glow of your phone screen illuminated the dark room, revealing a flurry of notifications that had accumulated while you were winding down.

Most of them were filled with excitement, congratulating you on your impressive second-place finish in the race. However, amidst the sea of cheerful messages, one stood out—a private note from Max.

While some comments stung with negativity, suggesting you didn’t belong in the world of Formula 1, Max’s message was a beacon of warmth.

“Thanks for coming to celebrate with me 👍,” it read, and a smile crept across your face, momentarily pushing away the weight of the harsh words.

You felt a mix of emotions swirling within you, and for a moment, tears threatened to spill over. But instead of succumbing to the sadness, you decided to respond to Max.

Your fingers danced over the screen as you typed, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, you deserved it! 😁” The moment you hit send, a sense of relief washed over you.

It was a reminder that amidst the criticism, there were still those who appreciated your presence and celebrated your achievements.

You could almost hear Max’s laughter echoing in your mind, a sound that always seemed to lift your spirits.

Just as you were about to put your phone down, a new message popped up from Max. “You really made the night special! I’m glad you were there. Let’s catch up soon?”

His words filled you with warmth, and you could picture him grinning with alcohol still in his system, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Absolutely! I’d love to,” you replied, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

After setting your phone aside for the night, you drifted off to sleep, the soft hum of the world outside fading into a distant memory.

When you awoke, you were enveloped in a warm embrace, the kind that felt like home. Instantly, you recognized the familiar presence of Jake, his body radiating warmth against yours.

The scent of alcohol lingered in the air, a reminder of his previous night out with friends, a detail that both amused and concerned you.

A smile crept across your face as you turned to see him, his features relaxed and serene, a stark contrast to the tension that had marked his demeanor the night before.

Curiosity sparked within you, igniting a flurry of questions as you pondered where he had spent his time, what stories he might have to share, and whether the night had been as wild as you imagined.

You felt a rush of affection for him, a desire to know every detail of his adventures, to understand the man who had captured your heart so completely.

Despite the warnings from your friends urging you to reconsider your relationship, your feelings for him remained steadfast, unwavering like a lighthouse in a storm.

They claimed he was a source of trouble, a tempest that could jeopardize your career and stir up scandals that would ripple through your life.

Yet, deep down, you understood him better than they did, seeing the layers of his character that they overlooked. You believed in his integrity, in the goodness that lay beneath the surface, and you knew he wouldn’t intentionally cause chaos in your life.

Their concerns echoed in your mind, but they felt distant, like the sound of waves crashing against a far-off shore.

You were determined to forge your own path, to trust your instincts, and to embrace the love that had blossomed between you, even if it meant standing alone against the tide of skepticism.

Although your relationship was already in the public eye, with whispers and speculation swirling around you like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind, he had yet to join you in the paddock due to his work commitments.

You felt a mix of anticipation and longing, a bittersweet ache in your chest as you navigated the bustling environment without him by your side.

As you glanced at your phone, the screen illuminated the early morning hour, signaling it was time for your daily jog.

You carefully extricated yourself from Jake's embrace, trying not to disturb his peaceful slumber.

Just as you were about to tiptoe out of the room, you caught a faint mumble escaping his lips, a mix of sleep and concern. “Where are you going?” he murmured, his voice thick with drowsiness.

You paused for a moment, torn between the urge to reassure him and the need to stick to your routine.

“I’m just going for a quick run, love. I’ll be back before you know it,” you replied softly, hoping to ease any lingering worries. His brow furrowed slightly, even in his sleep, as if he sensed your departure was more than just a morning ritual.

“You always run too early… what if someone sees you?” he muttered, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice, even in his dreams.

With a gentle smile, you leaned down to plant a quick kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be fine, I promise. It’s just me and the open road. You know I love my morning jogs.”

You could feel the tension in the air, a familiar weight that often accompanied your outings. “Okay,” he finally said, though the uncertainty lingered in his tone.

You quickly changed into your jogging attire before stepping out of the house. With a sense of urgency, you slipped into your comfortable workout gear, ready to embrace the fresh air outside.

The fabric of your favorite moisture-wicking shirt clung to your skin, and the soft elastic of your running shorts felt familiar and reassuring.

You laced up your well-worn sneakers, the soles still resilient from countless miles, and took a moment to stretch your legs, feeling the anticipation build within you.

Once dressed, you felt the excitement of the run ahead, eager to hit the pavement and enjoy the rhythm of your feet against the ground.

The world outside beckoned, vibrant and alive, as you opened the door and stepped into the crisp morning air. The scent of dew-kissed grass and blooming flowers filled your lungs, invigorating your spirit.

You took a deep breath, letting the coolness wash over you, and with a quick glance at the sky, you noted the sun just beginning to rise, casting a golden hue across the horizon.

As you began to jog, the familiar cadence of your heartbeat matched the steady thump of your feet on the pavement. Each stride felt liberating, a release from the confines of the day-to-day.

You could feel the tension of the week melting away with every step, replaced by a sense of freedom and clarity.

The rhythmic sound of your breath mingled with the rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds, creating a symphony of nature that accompanied you on your journey.

As you were enjoying your morning jog through the park, the rhythmic sound of your feet hitting the pavement was suddenly interrupted by a group of enthusiastic voices.

A cluster of women and girls approached you, their faces lighting up with excitement. "Excuse me! Miss Y/N! Can we get your autograph?" one of them exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

You paused, a bit surprised but also flattered, and smiled at the eager crowd. "Of course! I’d be happy to," you replied, pulling out a small notepad from your pocket.

Amid the chatter, a young girl stepped forward, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I want to start go-karting because I want to be just like you!" she declared, her voice filled with determination.

You could see the passion in her eyes, and it warmed your heart. "That’s amazing! Go-karting is such a fun sport," you encouraged her. "What do you love most about it?"

The girl beamed, her confidence growing as she shared her dreams of racing and the thrill of speed. "I love the idea of being in control and going fast! It looks so cool!"

You nodded, feeling a sense of responsibility to inspire her. "You know, every champion starts somewhere. If you really want to do it, just keep practicing and never give up. Surround yourself with people who support you, and you’ll go far," you advised, hoping to instill a sense of belief in her.

The girl’s eyes widened, and she nodded vigorously. "I will! Thank you so much!"

As the group dispersed, you felt a renewed sense of purpose, realizing that your journey could inspire others to chase their dreams, just as you had. . . .

As the days rolled on, the team decided to spice things up a bit before race week by organizing a fun game called "How Well Do You Know Each Other."

The idea was to not only entertain the fans but also to give everyone a glimpse into the camaraderie between you and Max.

You found yourself standing in front of the camera, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling inside you, while Max lounged comfortably on the sofa behind you, his headphones snugly in place, unable to listen in.

The staff kicked off the game with a playful tone, "Alright, let’s start with you! The first question about Max is… what is Max's favorite food?" You grinned, confident in your knowledge of your teammate.

"Oh, I know this one! Max is a huge fan of both Italian and Dutch cuisine, while I personally lean more towards Spanish dishes," you replied, your voice filled with enthusiasm.

The crew chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter, and you could see Max nodding in agreement, a smirk on his face even though he didn't know what you said.

After a few more questions, it was time for the roles to reverse. You took a seat on the sofa, and Max stood in front of the camera, a playful glint in his eyes.

The staff asked him the same question, and he leaned forward, a teasing smile forming. "Well, I know my teammate pretty well! She loves her Spanish food, but I think she secretly wishes she could cook like an Italian chef," he joked.

"You better be getting this right, I wanna beat Charles and Carlos' record," you said, feeling the competitive in you to beat Ferrari's record of 18 out of 20 right.

Max only turned around and gave an okay sign since you couldn't hear him, adding a little small wink for the tease but it was caught on camera.

In the end, both you and Max aced all the questions, and the excitement bubbled over as you jumped up and down, your energy infectious. Max stood nearby, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched your enthusiasm.

"See, everyone! Red Bull is clearly the superior team compared to Ferrari, so make sure to support us this week!" you exclaimed, wrapping up the video with a flourish.

As you turned to Max, you noticed he was still gazing at you, lost in thought. It took you by surprise.

"Max, do you want to add anything to what I just said?" you asked, a playful grin on your face as you nudged his shoulder gently.

Snapping back to reality, Max turned to the camera, a hint of sheepishness in his expression.

"Oh, umm, yeah… Red Bull domination, I guess?" he replied, his voice a mix of uncertainty and enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his response, and Max's smile widened, clearly pleased that he could make you laugh.

"Alright, everyone, that's a wrap! We'll catch you all soon. Fingers crossed for another P1-P2 finish, but maybe next time we can switch things up a bit," you said, waving enthusiastically at the camera.

As the camera clicked off, you turned to the crew with a warm smile, expressing your gratitude for their support. You shifted your focus to Max, who was standing nearby, a mix of anticipation and amusement on his face.

"Hey, Max," you began, a playful glint in your eye. "How does it feel to be the most compatible drivers on the grid?"

Max's eyes widened slightly at the phrase "most compatible," and you could see a hint of color rising to his cheeks. But as soon as he processed the word "driver," his expression shifted to one of mild disappointment.

"It feels nice, I guess," he replied, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "Just another thing to brag about to Lando, right?"

You chuckled, knowing how much Max loved to tease his fellow drivers. "Oh, absolutely! I can already picture it—Lando rolling his eyes while you go on about how you and I are the ultimate duo."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "He'll probably come up with some ridiculous comeback, like how he’s the best driver in the world or something."

"Well, he does have a knack for that," you said, leaning against the wall, enjoying the banter. "But let’s be honest, you two are like an old married couple. Always bickering but secretly caring for each other."

Max rolled his eyes dramatically. "Please, I’m not ready for that kind of commitment. I can barely handle my own sleeping schedule!"

Max shrugged, a hint of humility creeping into his demeanor. "But honestly, having you around makes it easier. You bring a different energy to the team."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thanks, Max. That means a lot coming from you. I think we balance each other out pretty well."

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, it’s like we have this unspoken understanding. You know when to push me and when to let me breathe. It’s refreshing."

"Exactly! And it’s not just about racing; it’s about the camaraderie we build off the track too. Those late-night strategy sessions and the random moments of laughter—they all add up."

Max chuckled, recalling a particularly ridiculous moment from a previous race weekend. "Remember that time we got lost trying to find the catering tent? We ended up in that random fan zone instead!"

You burst out laughing, the memory flooding back. "Oh my god, yes! And those fans were so excited to see us, they thought we were there for a meet-and-greet! We ended up taking selfies with them for an hour."

"Right? And then we finally found the catering tent, only to discover they were out of your favorite pasta!" Max added, shaking his head in disbelief.

"That was a tragedy," you said, feigning a dramatic sigh. "But it turned into one of the best days. I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything."

Max’s gaze softened as he looked at you, a genuine smile breaking through. "Me neither. It’s those little things that make all the hard work worth it."

You both stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the camaraderie between you palpable. The atmosphere around the paddock buzzed with activity, but in that moment, it felt like you were in your own little world.

"Alright, enough of the mushy stuff," Max said, breaking the moment with a playful nudge. "Let’s get back to business. We’ve got a race to prepare for, and I can’t let you steal all my glory."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Oh, please! You know I’m just here to make you look good. Besides, I wouldn’t dream of overshadowing the reigning champion."

What you two didn't know was that the cameras didn't stop but recorded your little moment, which went viral in the few minutes that it was posted. . . . .

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You knew that the public would start shipping you and Max together sooner or later but you weren't bothered with it.

You had a boyfriend who you cared for deeply, someone who had been your rock through the ups and downs of your racing career. Yet, his reaction to the swirling rumors about you and Max took you by surprise.

You never imagined he would be so affected by the gossip that seemed to spread like wildfire through the paddock and beyond.

Here you were, caught in a web of emotions, torn between the thrill of a new chapter and the loyalty you felt towards your current relationship.

As you stepped through the door of your home, the familiar scent of your shared space enveloped you, but it did little to ease the tension that hung in the air.

You found Jake lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to his phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his furrowed brow. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, and you could sense that something was off.

“Hey, babe,” you greeted him, trying to sound cheerful despite the weight on your shoulders. He barely looked up, his fingers scrolling furiously, as if searching for answers in the digital chaos.

“Did you hear about you and Max?” he finally snapped, his voice laced with irritation, cutting through the silence like a knife. “It’s all over social media. Are you really going to let this get to you?”

You felt your heart sink; you had hoped for a different reaction, one that would reassure you that your relationship was strong enough to withstand the storm of rumors.

“Come on, it’s just rumors,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, though the tremor in it betrayed your inner turmoil. “You know I’m committed to only you.”

You watched as he shot you a skeptical glance, his jealousy bubbling to the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. “Yeah, but how can I trust you when you’re out there with him all the time? It’s not just a coincidence that everyone is talking about it.”

The words stung, and you took a deep breath. "Babe I love only you-"

"Please, don’t even think about it! You know I’m stuck here because if I walked away, your fans would make my life a living nightmare," Jake exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you reeling from the harsh reality of your situation.

It was as if he had taken a knife and twisted it, exposing the raw vulnerability you had tried so hard to hide.

You could feel the sting of tears welling up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. "I didn’t ask for any of this," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you could sense the tension between you growing thicker by the second. It was a battle of emotions, and you were losing ground.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know it’s not fair, but you have to understand the pressure I’m under. It’s not just about us; it’s about my career, my fans. I can’t let them down."

His eyes softened for a moment, revealing a glimpse of the man you fell in love with.

"But I don’t want to lose you. Can’t we find a way to make this work?" You pleaded.

"I don't know," he muttered, not lifting his eyes from his phone before standing up and walking past you to get his coat and shoes. "i'm gonna take a walk,"

This has been a pattern for weeks now. You would come home, he would start an argument then make up an excuse to leave the house, leaving you to either pick up his mess or go to sleep without your partner. To only wake up with him cuddling you in the morning and apologise for his action last night.

You were getting sick of it but you still love him too much to break up with him. . . .

The days that followed were a blur of introspection and emotional turmoil. Each time you caught a glimpse of Jake’s name on your phone, a knot formed in your stomach.

You had always been the type to see the good in people, to believe that love could conquer all, but the reality of your situation was becoming harder to ignore.

The moments of tenderness were overshadowed by the growing unease that settled in your chest like a heavy stone.

You spent more time with Sarah, who seemed to sense your internal struggle. She filled your days with laughter and distraction, taking you out for coffee, long walks in the park, and movie marathons that kept your mind off the impending decision.

Yet, no matter how much you tried to push it aside, the thought of Jake lingered like a shadow, reminding you of the grip he had on your heart—and not in a way that felt safe or loving.

One evening, as you and Sarah sat on the balcony watching the sunset, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink, she turned to you again.

"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but you have to prioritize your happiness. You can’t keep living in this limbo," she said, her voice steady and unwavering.

You looked out at the horizon, the beauty of the moment contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside you.

"I know," you replied, your voice thick with emotion. "But what if I’m wrong? What if he really can change?"

The fear of making the wrong choice loomed large, a specter that haunted your thoughts.

"Change is possible, but it has to come from him, not from you hoping for it," Sarah said gently. "You can’t be the one to fix him. You’re not responsible for his happiness or his growth. You deserve to be with someone who respects you and makes you feel safe."

Her words struck a chord deep within you. You thought back to the last time he had gripped your arm, the way his eyes had darkened, and how you had brushed it off as a moment of frustration.

But now, in the light of day, you could see it for what it was—a warning sign that you had been too afraid to acknowledge.

That night, as you lay in bed, the silence of your room felt deafening. You replayed every moment of your relationship, the good and the bad, and slowly, the scales began to tip.

The holiday seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, and soon you found yourself stepping into the paddock alongside Sarah and Jake.

As you walked, you could feel the tension in the air; Jake wore a strained smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, gripping your hand a little too tightly.

“Hey, look at all the fans!” you exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood as you waved enthusiastically at the crowd, signing autographs for those who called out your name.

Sarah, taking a break from her hectic job, had decided to join you, her laughter ringing out like music amidst the bustling atmosphere.

“Isn’t this amazing?” you said, glancing at Sarah, who was snapping pictures with her phone. “I can’t believe how many people came out today!”

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s like a mini-celebration! But where’s your boyfriend? He seems a bit off today.”

You shrugged, trying to brush off the concern. “I don’t know, maybe he’s just tired. We haven’t really talked much since we got back.”

You stole a glance at him, who was still smiling, but it felt forced, like he was putting on a show for everyone around.

You made the decision to invite Jake into your driver’s room for a heart-to-heart conversation. As you settled into the familiar space, you turned to him with a gentle concern.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” you asked, your voice soft and inviting.

Jake looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and longing, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m alright, really. I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately,” he replied, his tone sincere.

In that moment, you felt a rush of warmth; you had missed the comfort of his touch more than you realized.

“Jake, I need to let you know that I have to leave soon,” you murmured, trying to keep the conversation grounded. But he seemed lost in his own thoughts, his gaze intense and filled with desire.

“Why don’t you just quit your job already? I can take care of you, I promise,” he suggested, his voice dripping with temptation.

The idea hung in the air between you, and for a fleeting moment, you felt the pull of his offer.

It was tempting, but the passion you had for Formula 1 was a flame that burned too brightly to extinguish for anyone, even someone as captivating as Jake.

You took a deep breath, weighing your options. “Jake, you know how much this means to me. Formula 1 isn’t just a job; it’s my dream,” you replied, your heart heavy with the conflict.

He stepped back slightly, his expression shifting from desire to disappointment. “I get it, but can’t you see how much I care about you? I want us to be together, and I thought you felt the same way,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice.

You could see the struggle in his eyes, and it pained you to know that your passion for racing was creating a rift between you.

“I do care about you, but I can’t just walk away from everything I’ve worked for,” you insisted, hoping he would understand.

As you stand there, the tension weighs heavily in the air, palpable and thick, as Jake's frustration spills over, his voice tinged with a mix of hurt and desperation.

"But what about me?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for an answer that you know is difficult to provide. "Since you started this job, we haven’t done anything together. All you've been doing is hanging out with that Max boy. Don’t you see it?"

His words cut through the silence, piercing the surface of your mind and forcing you to confront the tangled web of your life that feels all too overwhelming at this moment.

As you gather your thoughts, aware that the job has transformed your priorities and the once-familiar relationship with Jake has shifted, you attempt to articulate your feelings, to bridge the widening chasm of misunderstanding.

"Jake—" you start, your voice tremulous, hoping to weave a delicate thread of connection that can pull you both back to a place of understanding, but he interjects, the intensity of his emotions propelling him forward before you can offer your perspective.

"I’ll show you—don't worry," he mutters, the frustration lacing his tone beginning to dissipate as he suddenly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a gesture that is both protective and possessive.

The warmth of his body against yours sends a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the bond you once cherished.

Feeling the urgency of the moment, his lips find yours, a kiss that ignites a flicker of hope amid the turmoil of doubt and fear swirling around you. . . .

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After the holiday break, you had started to act differently, almost as if a shadow had fallen over their usual camaraderie.

Whenever he approached to nudge her shoulder playfully, she would flinch, a look of surprise crossing her face as if she were bracing for something unpleasant.

It was a stark contrast to the easygoing banter they once shared, and he couldn't help but notice how she had become more withdrawn, often lost in her thoughts, her laughter replaced by a distant gaze.

He believed you were feeling down because the team was struggling to achieve the results they had hoped for.

Typically, his father would reach out to him after a disappointing race, sometimes even resorting to physical punishment if the outcome was particularly disheartening.

It was a routine he had come to accept, thinking it was a common experience shared by many.

However, everything changed when his therapist pointed out that not everyone endured such treatment, which sparked a rebellion within him against his father's harsh ways.

"Why do you always have to be so hard on me?" he had shouted one evening, frustration boiling over.

His father, taken aback, responded with a stern look, "Because I want you to be the best, Max. You need to learn that life isn’t always fair."

But Max felt differently; he wanted to be supported, not punished.

As he pondered your situation, he couldn't help but wonder if you had faced similar challenges.

"Do you have someone in your life who treats you badly?" he asked cautiously, trying to gauge your response.

Your eyes widened at the sudden question before you shook your head, a small smile breaking through the clouds of doubt.

"No, not like that. Everyone is really supportive of me these days."

Max felt a wave of relief wash over him, grateful that you had not been in that cycle of abuse he had been so familiar with.

In many of the recent races, both you and Max found yourselves finishing in the P2 to P4 range, or sometimes not making it to the podium at all, which left the team feeling quite disheartened.

The once-promising season had turned into a series of missed opportunities, and the weight of expectations began to take its toll on everyone involved.

The atmosphere in the garage was thick with tension, and the engineers were working overtime to analyze data and strategize for the next race, but the results were still falling short of what the team had hoped for.

This situation also prompted Max's father, Jos, to plan a visit during the race weekend. He intended to check in on his son and perhaps give him a much-needed reality check, quite literally.

As the race day approached, Jos observed his son engaging in cheerful conversation with you, rather than focusing on the engineers to gather crucial insights, a routine Max typically adhered to before a race.

This deviation from his usual pre-race preparation did not sit well with Jos.

He had always believed that the hours leading up to a race were critical for mental conditioning and strategy formulation. To see Max laughing and joking instead of poring over telemetry data or discussing race strategies with the engineers was concerning for him.

Jos's frustration grew as he watched the interaction unfold. He believed that your presence was a distraction, pulling Max away from the intense focus required for peak performance.

In his eyes, the bond you shared with his son was undermining Max's potential to excel on the track.

He felt that friendships weren't important and they should not come at the expense of Max's dedication to his craft.

Jos was determined to address this issue head-on, convinced that a serious conversation was necessary to realign Max's priorities. . . . .

In the midst of a lively discussion filled with laughter and camaraderie, Jos abruptly interjected, "Max, I need to talk to you right now."

His tone cut through the jovial atmosphere, drawing the attention of both you and his son. The laughter faded, replaced by a sudden stillness as everyone turned to witness the unfolding scene.

Max's expression shifted from joy to disappointment as he glanced at you, yet he managed to offer a reassuring smile before reluctantly following his father away from the group.

"Yes, Father?" Max responded in Dutch, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. The way he spoke suggested a mix of respect and wariness, as if he were bracing himself for a conversation he knew would be anything but easy.

Jos wasted no time in launching into his concerns, his words spilling out with a sense of urgency.

"You must distance yourself from that girl; she is a distraction that will hinder your performance in the race," he asserted, his tone firm and authoritative, as if he were delivering a decree rather than a request.

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, a stark contrast to the lightheartedness that had just moments ago enveloped the gathering.

Max, however, was quick to defend you, his loyalty evident in the way he stood a little taller, his brow furrowing in determination. "No, she doesn't distract me, Father. She's my teammate," he stated, his voice steady and resolute.

The conviction in his tone reflected a bond that transcended mere friendship; it was a partnership built on shared goals and mutual respect.

Yet, as he spoke, the tension between father and son thickened, a palpable clash of wills that seemed to reverberate through the quiet space around them.

Jos, sensing the resistance in Max's voice, shifted his approach, employing subtle manipulation to sway his son’s perspective.

"Think about your future, Max. You have so much potential, and I only want what is best for you," he continued, his voice softening slightly, as if trying to appeal to Max's aspirations.

The words were carefully chosen, designed to instill doubt about your influence, to paint you as an obstacle rather than an ally.

Max hesitated, caught between his father's expectations and his own feelings.

The internal struggle was evident on his face, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he grappled with the conflicting loyalties that tugged at his heart.

"It is evident in your results over the weeks, you've been falling off the high scores recently, hardly been able to reach third place because of that girl!" Jos stressed out and Max became quiet, letting those words sink in.

"Max, think about it," Jos continued, his tone shifting to one of persuasion. "You need to focus on your game and not let distractions get in the way. She's not worth it."

Max felt a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He had always admired his father's wisdom, but now he sensed a subtle manipulation at play. Jos was trying to steer him away from his feelings, and deep down, Max knew it.

Yet, the idea of disappointing his father loomed larger than his own desires.

"Okay, Father," Max finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

He felt a pang of regret as he agreed, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing a part of himself in the process. As he walked away, he contemplated the choices ahead of him.

Was it worth sacrificing his happiness for the sake of competition?

As he walked away, the sound of his father's footsteps fading behind him, he contemplated the choices ahead of him.

The internal struggle was just beginning, and Max knew he had to find a way to balance his passion for the game with the complexities of his heart.

He thought of you—the woman who had sparked something within him, a light that had ignited a warmth he hadn't been able to feel like Daniel left.

After he began to distance himself from you, he noticed a change in your demeanor.

You seemed more withdrawn, putting on a facade of happiness with a constant smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You were hiding behind long-sleeved coats, even in the warm weather, creating a barrier between yourself and the world around you.

The vibrant laughter that once filled the air when you were together had been replaced by a silence that hung heavily between you, punctuated only by the occasional forced chuckle or polite nod.

Max could see the way your shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of unspoken words and unshared feelings was pressing down on you.

Your eyes, once bright with enthusiasm and mischief, now seemed clouded, reflecting a deep-seated sadness that you tried so hard to conceal.

He remembered the long pointless conversations, the dreams you both had shared, and the plans that now felt like distant memories. It pained him to witness your struggle, yet he felt powerless to bridge the growing chasm between you.

Despite the guilt that gnawed at him, Max couldn’t help but recognize a shift in his own performance on the racetrack.

He found himself consistently finishing on the podium, a stark contrast to your struggles as you remained trapped within the top ten.

Each trophy he lifted felt heavier than the last, a reminder of the friendship that had once fueled his passion for racing.

He could hear the cheers of the crowd, feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but all he could think about was how you used to be there, celebrating alongside him, your face alight with pride and joy.

While he celebrated his achievements, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something important was missing.

The camaraderie they once shared seemed to slip further away with each passing race, leaving him to wonder if the price of success was worth the cost of their connection.

He often found himself glancing over at the empty spot in the pit where you used to stand, your eyes sparkling with encouragement, your voice ringing out with advice that had always kept him grounded.

As the races continued, Max felt a growing urgency to reach out, to break through the walls you had built around yourself.

But his father kept him grounded and not letting that thought come to life anytime soon. . . .

As you maneuver through the winding turns of the racetrack, adrenaline surges through your veins, a heady blend of focus and exhilaration.

"Joseph, what's the gap to Max?" you inquire, your voice steady despite the chaos enveloping you as you glance at the rearview mirror, noticing Charles's fierce pursuit as he falls into your peripheral vision, momentarily eclipsed by your recent strategic overtaking maneuver.

"2.3 seconds in front of you, Y/N," Joseph replies, his tone equally crisp yet slightly strained, hinting at the intensity of the moment.

The hum of the engine, the vibrations of the car, and the distant roar of the crowd blend into a symphony of speed, and as you negotiate the track, your mind sharpens with determination.

You consider your next move with meticulous care, knowing that a split-second decision could alter the course of the race.

Holding tightly to the steering wheel, you then ask, “Do I have permission to take over?”

Pause hangs in the air like a fragile breath, and you can almost anticipate Joseph's reply, especially given the longstanding tradition wherein hesitance often blankets these life-altering decisions.

Sure enough, after a fleeting silence, you prepare for the inevitable response that would echo in your ears like an unwelcome refrain, one you were all too familiar with.

But just as you brace yourself for a “no,” the radio crackles to life again—this time with a tidal wave of unexpected urgency.

"Yes! Y/N? Can you hear me? The team has approved the overtake of Max! Go for it!" Joseph’s voice bursts through with a burst of energy, jolting you from your reverie.

Instinctively, your foot plunges onto the accelerator as you channel every ounce of skill, focus, and ambition into propelling yourself forward.

You swiftly navigate the corner, your car gliding through the air like a bird released from captivity, and in that moment of pure adrenaline, you find yourself eclipsing Max, reclaiming the lead with undeniable ferocity.

As you settle into your newfound position at first place, the tension morphs into an exhilarating electrification coursing through your body.

Max, having momentarily lost his grip on the lead, now battles to fend off Charles and Lando from making any hazardous moves that might threaten your dominion at the front.

In the heat of the moment, the radio blaring with strategic updates fades into the background as your vision narrows solely on the track ahead—you are a race car driver, a gladiator in this battle of speed, and nothing else matters.

The world dissolves into monochrome, your focus unwavering as you grip the wheel like it’s a lifeline.

Distant cheers from the crowd seep through your concentration, yet you silence those voices, drowning out distractions as you become acutely aware of the weight of the race, the dreams that hang delicately in the balance—everything is at stake.

You feel sweat trickling down your temple and a syrupy mix of anticipation and fear soaring through your chest, but as you approach the final laps, triumph struggles to emerge from the depths of your hardwork.

Amidst the exhilarating distractions, your attention sharpens when you catch a faint echo of Joseph’s voice cutting through the chatter. "Y/N! You did it! You won!"

The joyous eruption on the other end floods your senses with disbelief, a tidal wave of emotions crashing over you.

In that electrifying moment, as you maintain your grip on the wheel for the last few seconds, reality begins to wash over you like an exhilarating wave, and the tears you could feel brewing now threaten to spill, your triumph intertwining with your vulnerability.

With the checkered flag waving triumphantly in the air, you ease down on the accelerator, the sensation of victory swelling inside you as you let a muffled cry of delight escape your lips.

You slow your car and finally breathe, releasing all the pent-up energy, as the realization of your success resonates in every fiber of your being.

"You did it, Y/N! You won the grand prix!" Joseph's voice dances through the radio, resonating with an infectious glee.

A burst of laughter escapes your lips, and for the first time, the roar of the crowd—a melodic blend of cheers—warms your heart.

As you roll to a stop, the world around you crescendos into a celebration of your harrowing journey—each twist, each turn, each heartbeat racing in sync with the rhythm of victory.

The moment is surreal, and as you step out of the car, you are not just a racer anymore; you are a triumphant force that turned dreams into reality, and no title could encapsulate the pride swelling within you.

You parked the car in front of the first-place stand, your heart racing as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. Stepping out of the vehicle, you took a moment to absorb the victory that had just unfolded; it was surreal, almost like a scene plucked from your wildest dreams.

You stood on the hood of your car, exhilaration bubbling up inside you as you raised your fists in triumph, thrusting them into the air with a euphoric fist bump that echoed your unrestrained joy.

The cheers of the crowd swirled around you, a chorus of celebration, and for a heartbeat, the entire world felt like it paused in honour of your hard-fought achievement.

The weight of every early morning, every late night, every moment spent honing your driving in the shadows now seemed beautifully light, overshadowed by the sheer thrill of the moment.

As you jumped off the car with a renewed sense of vitality, you sprinted toward your team, their faces lit up with genuine happiness.

It marked a pivotal moment, one where they no longer treated you as fragile or merely a woman in a male-dominated sport; instead, they embraced you like a teammate, a winner.

You felt the warmth of their hugs wrapping around you, their joy infectious in a way that washed away any lingering doubts you had ever held about your place in this fierce and demanding environment.

“I can’t believe we did it!” you exclaimed, looking around at their beaming faces, heart swelling.

Some laughing tears glistening in their eyes, as they crowded around you, lifting you momentarily off your feet, celebrating not only your victory but the growth of a team bound together by perseverance and shared dreams.

Max eventually pulled up in front of the second-place station, his car’s engine rumbling to a soft stop just a few feet away from you. He stepped out, the sunlight catching the edges of his helmet as he removed it, revealing a look of pure delight plastered across his face.

It was a sight that brightened your heart; his genuine smile mirrored your own, a silent acknowledgment of the fierce competition that had just transpired on the track.

You could hardly control the emotions that swelled within you. With an impulsive rush, you charged toward him, unable to contain the joy of your victory.

In a flurry of excitement, you leaped into his arms, a spontaneous act born from the adrenaline still dancing through your body. He caught you effortlessly, his hands cradling your back protectively, and in that moment, the world shrank down to just the two of you.

“I won!" you declared, breathless, your voice a mixture of disbelief and sheer happiness, as if saying it out loud might make the victory feel more real.

A grin split Max's face wider, and you could see the pride sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah, you won! Congratulations!" he echoed, his voice turning melodic with the thrill of your accomplishment.

His embrace tightened around you, and you melted into the moment, filled with a sense of camaraderie and respect that had blossomed between you two over the course of your racing journeys.

As he set you back on your feet, laughter bubbled up once again, infectious and wildly free.

"I hope I didn't catch you off guard with that leap," you admitted, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice as you took a sip from your drink.

"Not at all! I’m just thrilled for you," Max replied, his cheeks flushed with excitement as he gave you a friendly pat on the back.

After the interview with the top three winners, you, Max, and Charles settled into the conference room, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement as the race replay flickered on the screen. The tension was palpable as the footage captured the thrilling moments of the competition.

"Wow! That was such a turn!" Charles exclaimed, wiping the sweat from his brow, clearly still feeling the adrenaline from the race.

He was referring to the intense maneuver where he nearly overtook Lando, a moment that had everyone on the edge of their seats.

As the race continued to unfold on the screen, you found yourself lost in thought, your mind racing with the events that had just transpired.

You focused on your breathing, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You had actually won.

Max, sitting beside you, noticed your silence and turned his attention toward you, his eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked softly, breaking the tension in the room. His voice was steady, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of the race replay.

You nodded slowly, appreciating Max's concern but still feeling the weight of the moment. "Yeah, just processing everything," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

After the conference wrapped up, the divers were given the freedom to either retreat to their driver’s rooms or celebrate with their teams and families.

However, the atmosphere was tinged with concern. The race winner was notably absent, and everyone had been eagerly anticipating a celebration for your first victory.

But after you dashed out of the conference room in a flurry, you seemed to vanish without a trace.

Everyone, especially Max, who had reached out to congratulate you repeatedly, was waiting, eager for you to join them in the festivities.

Max had noticed your absence almost immediately after the conference ended. The smile that had danced on his lips dimmed when you didn't join the team to celebrate; he frequently glanced toward the driver’s room, a sense of unease gnawing at his gut.

The more he thought about it, the more his concern deepened; it wasn't like you to shy away from such moments of triumph.

As teammates and family began to cheer and revel in the evening's wins, Max made the decision to search for you.

His quest took him to the paddock and then to your garage, but each passing minute only heightened his worries. "Where could you be, Y/N?" he murmured to himself, frustration lacing his voice as he traversed the familiar paths of the circuit, searching desperately for a glimpse of you.

His heart raced with anxiety; he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Finally, his gaze landed on the door of your driver's room, slightly ajar, like a whisper beckoning him to enter. Without a second thought, he approached and knocked gently, "Y/N, are you in there?"

Listening intently, he leaned closer to the door and was met with faint whimpers that sent a chill down his spine.

Panic surged through him.

This wasn’t just a moment of celebration for you; it felt like a cry for help, echoing through the cold corridor.

Without waiting for a response, he pushed the door open wider, bracing himself for whatever he might find—though nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met his eyes when the door creaked open.

The scene unfolded before him like a nightmare; your so-called boyfriend stood menacingly above you, his hand raised as if poised to strike, while your frail form displayed clear signs of distress—your face bruised, tears streaming down your cheeks, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as he took stock of the situation, the cruel contrast of celebration outside and the terrifying reality inside your room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Max's voice cut through the air, laced with fury as he stepped into the room, instinctively placing himself between you and the looming threat.

In that instant, your boyfriend's grip on your collar slackened, surprise washing over his features as he turned to face Max.

“Stay out of this, Max! This has nothing to do with you,” your boyfriend snarled, his bravado faltering under the sudden scrutiny.

But Max remained steadfast, stepping closer, his presence commanding as he glared at the man who had dared to raise a hand against you.

“You’re wrong. It has everything to do with me. Y/N is my friend, and I won’t let you hurt her,” he replied, his voice steady yet filled with palpable tension.

Your eyes met Max's, a flicker of hope igniting amidst despair, and despite everything, the warmth of that friendship washed over you.

Max's voice echoed through the room, a mix of frustration and urgency. "You need to leave now!" he shouted, his eyes locked onto your boyfriend, who stood there with clenched fists and a scowl that could cut glass.

The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to slice through. Your boyfriend hesitated, his anger simmering just beneath the surface, but something in Max's tone made him reconsider.

"Fine," he finally muttered, his voice low and filled with resentment. "I’ll go, but this isn’t over."

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving you and Max in a heavy silence.

“Max, please…” you managed to choke out, your voice hoarse as the fear and pain slowly ebbed. “I just…I just wanted to celebrate, but I didn’t know who I could trust. I thought…”

Your voice faltered as the tears resumed their steady flow. Max's gaze softened as he turned back to you, the protective barrier he had formed in front of you embodying more than just physical defense.

“You can trust me, Y/N,” he said firmly, his expression shifting to one of concern.

With Max's unwavering support behind you, the resolve within you began to build.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling, but a hint of strength colored your tone.

[n0vazsq]

The art of rivalry | MV1 x Reader

pairing . . . max verstappen x rival!reader

summary . . . You and Max have always been rivals, whether it was over the smallest things or actual competition. However, when you're stranded with him under an umbrella that barely fits you both in the midst of a rainstorm, you start to wonder if everything between you has to be a game to win

request . . . no!!

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . !PART OF MINI FIC SERIES! stop i love this sm?? i hope you guys like it!!

. . . It started small.

Who could send a text reply faster? Who could finish their food first? Who could wear their shoes the fastest? Harmless, dumb little competitions that Max turned into a full blown rivalry before you even noticed.

Then, it escalated.

"I bet I can find parking faster than you."

"First one to finish their gym session picks the next movie."

Even completely random things; who could guess the next song on the playlist, who could hold their breath underwater longer, who could predict the exact time their food would arrive. Max had to win. Every. Single. Time.

But today is different.

You two had gone out for a simple walk around town, but of course, you were competing to see who could find a suitable coffee shop the fastest. However, halfway through your walk, a storm comes out of nowhere and nearly drowns you two in water, but luckily you found a tiny shop with an awning big enough to cover you both.

The rain is relentless, pouring so hard it drowns out your footsteps as you continue your walk side by side. Max, the genius problem solver, holds up the umbrella he bought from the convenince store down the street, but it's his umbrella; too small to fully cover you both. He tilts it toward you instinctively, but that means his shoulder is completely exposed.

"Max, you're getting soaked," you point out, concern etching your face.

He shrugs, clearly unbothered that his shoulder is soaking wet. "So? Not like it's a competition."

That makes you laugh, shaking your head. "Everything's a competition with you."

Max grins, turning slightly to face you, nudging your arm slightly. "Fine. If I get sick first, you win."

You roll your eyes but grab the umbrella handle, pulling it more toward the middle to keep him covered too. It's such a small thing, barely anything at all, but for once, neither of you feels the need to turn it into a game.

Now, it's just the quiet sound of rain, the warmth of being so close to each other, and the realization that maybe… not everything has to be a competition.

Maybe this is one challenge Max doesn't mind losing.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey ,, @eloriis ,, @linnygirl09 (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[giuseppe-yuki]

who is that?

max verstappen x ragdoll cat shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 1.9k

warnings: suggestive content, curse words, jealous!max

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: who is that cat that max is playing with in the rb garage that is not you?

picture credits from pinterest :)

sitting on an elevated ball cat bed that was custom designed with max’s emblem on the side, it wasn’t hard to see that you were a little spoiled. hell, you even had your own minifridge stocked with fresh fish, veggies, fruit, and meat that max specifically ordered for you. at first, you had advocated against having your little corner of the red bull garage, not wanting to take up too much space, but max had convinced not only you but also christian to build the little cat corner, because who could ever say no to a three-time world champion? 

now, you were sitting daintily on the soft cushion of the bed, watching max finish the last of his fp1 laps. to no one’s surprise, he had the quickest time, being faster than charles by a third of a second. 

feeling a bit hungry, you let out a few mewls, sending a few of the engineers scurrying your way. ha, you thought. i have them wrapped around my finger. 

“you hungry, little kitty?” one of the engineer asks, petting your head. 

you blink your signature blue ragdoll cat eyes at her.

immediately, she jumps up, and strolls to your mini fridge. gingerly, she takes out some pre-prepared raw chicken out of the refrigerator, along with a couple of strawberries. after cutting up both items into small enough pieces with scissors stored on the side of the fridge, she sets the food in a small bowl in front of your cat bed. 

you jump off your elevated bed and walk a few laps around the engineer’s legs, rubbing your fur against her legs in a show of appreciation. the other engineers all coo in adoration, tilting their heads and smiling at you. you approach the bowl on the ground and gobble down the chicken and strawberries, quick. 

deciding you want pets now, you hop into another engineer’s lap and purr, which evokes him to start scratching your chin. but before he could give you any more pets, max pulls into the garage along with checo, signaling to you that fp1 was over. the engineer sets you back on the ground to start assessing the rb20 with everyone else. 

to your left, hannah schimtz strolls in from the pitlane, one hand clutching her headpiece and another holding a clipboard. you pad over to her through the chaos of the garage and jump onto her leg. she chuckles before setting down her things on a counter and picking you up. she gives you a few pats on the head, earning her a meow of happiness from you. gianpiero lambiase appears out of nowhere next to hannah, but you don’t mind as he starts stroking your fur. you nuzzle into hannah’s team kit in gratitude. 

when you lift your head and look across the room, you see your boyfriend has already gotten out of his car and standing next to checo. checo is animatedly talking with his hands, occasionally gesturing towards his car, but max is not looking at him. he stares directly at you in hannah’s arms, cool blue eyes staring you down. its filled with a familiar fondness, but it is also tinted with an emotion you don’t see often- jealousy. 

he turns and walks towards you, leaving checo looking at his retreating figure with a confused look on his face. (poor checo, you think.) 

“i’m going to hold my cat now,” he says pointedly to hannah, emphasizing the “my”. he snatches you out of hannah’s arms and holds you gently to his chest. you think you can hear his heartbeat through his sweaty fireproofs. 

turning on his heel, he yanks the driver radio earbuds out of his ear, one-handedly throws it on the counter behind his car, grabs you tight, and bolts out of the garage towards his driver room. 

“don’t you think that was a little much back there, maxie?” you question, lifting your head off his chest and peering at him. 

“umm, no, not really,” your boyfriend says. he squeezes you closer to him on the bed in his driver’s room, tangling your legs together.

you thread your fingers into max’s, using your other hand to fiddle with his fan-made mv1 bead bracelets and trace the patterns on his silver cartier bracelet. “if i may,” you start, lips close to the shell of his ear, “i would say…you were a little jealous back there- snatching me out of hannah’s arms. i just wanted a few pets, that’s all.” 

he pouts, scrunching his nose. he pulls himself away from you and adjusts himself on the bed, laying on his side and propping one hand on the side of his head. you can see the dark spots on his pillow where his head was, leftover droplets of water from getting out of the shower. he adjusts the simple black shirt that he pulled from his drawers a few minutes ago, and blinks at you innocently. 

“no i wasn’t,” he defends himself. “i just simply wanted to hold my pretty girlfriend after racing hard on the track after fp1.” 

you roll your eyes. “sure baby,” you giggle. he was such a lousy liar. it was kind of cute seeing him jealous though. you lean closer to him, laser focused on his soft lips. “just know that you’re the only person that can do this-” 

before you can put your glossy lips on his, max’s phone starts to buzz. 

he curses, pulling out his phone. “who the fuck is calling me?” 

the caller id lights up, showing the words ‘christian horner’ in blaring white letters. 

he scrambles off the bed, and turns to you. “i’m sorry, i have to take this,” he says apologetically. “i will be back, though.” he gives you a wink before walking out of the room.

lying on the bed by yourself, fix your hair a bit before pausing. “no way christian fucking horner just cockblocked me!” you say aloud, giggling to yourself.

two hours before fp2 starts, you find yourself in the paddock bathroom. you smooth down your hair, reapply your makeup, and start smothering lipgloss on your lips when you hear a voice behind you. 

“hey there, you’re max’s girlfriend, right?” a girl in a pretty patterned tube top and jeans smiles at you, tilting her head in question. 

“oh, yes, that’s me!” you respond, smiling back at her. before she can respond, you reach your hand out, and pluck a white feather off the back of her top. “you had a feather stuck on the back of your top by the way,” you explain to her, tossing it in the trash can next to the sinks. 

“haha thanks, i have no idea how that got there!” she says, scratching her head. she then reaches out her hand. “i’m oscar’s girlfriend by the way. nice to meet you!”

you strike up a conversation while she touches up her own makeup, even exchanging numbers. 

she was in the middle of explaining a funny story how she apparently “stole water” from the red bull motorhome when she pauses and points to a spot near your shoulder. 

“there’s like a pretty big bruise on your shoulderblade!” she says concerningly. “is everything alright?” 

you look at yourself in the mirror, and sure enough is a bruise, small enough to not be seen from far away, but too big to cover up unnoticeably. god, you were gonna kill max on sight. 

you struggle to come up with an appropriate excuse to tell oscar’s girlfriend. “i- um was kind of clumsy and bumped into a shelf in max’s driver’s room, and like- a giant vase art piece thingy fell on me!” 

she gasps in shock, “omg, what? i hope you’re okay now!”

you nod your head quickly. “yeah, i’m totally fine,” you say. “the vase didn’t even hurt that much.” 

after covering the hickey bruise with at least a half a gallon of concealer, you hurry over to the red bull garage. max must be a little worried, considering you were gone a little longer than expected because you were talking to oscar’s girlfriend. to your surprise, max is sitting on one of the data analyst’s chair, dangling a toy fish on a string over the head of a ragdoll cat. the cat bats at it, meowing.

“what the actual fuck are you doing? and who is that?” you burst out, marching over to max. this better be a prank, you think to yourself.

to your surprise, there is not a hint of held-back laughter on max’s face- only shock. “wait what?” he says, stunned. “if you’re here..then who is…?” he trails off. the cat sits on the ground between you both, blinking its blue eyes innocently. 

GP walks up to you and max, not noticing both of your shocked faces. he bends down and picks up the cat, cooing. “i know one of the engineers fed her earlier, but you don’t mind if i feed this one a bit of fish do you?” he doesn’t wait for an answer before stalking off to the fridge with the cat. 

you turn to max, eyes blazing. 

“i swear! i thought that was you!” he whispers to you frantically.

by the time fp2 was over, you were already back in max’s driver room. the door busts open, and in runs a sweaty max. he starts rambling (or should i say maxplaining?) the second the door is open- “omg, baby where is the cat? after fp2, i talked to gp and he said that you left with ten minutes left in fp2 with the cat? please please please tell me you did not kill the cat, i swear i did not know that it was not you! it was a random stray cat that somehow found its way into the paddock! i won’t even touch another cat ever again please?” 

he turns the corner of his driver’s room to find you in your cat form snuggling on the bed with a sleeping ragdoll cat. you turn to blink your glittering blue eyes at him while keeping a paw protectively around the other cat. 

your boyfriend sits down on the couch, relief oozing out of him. he gives both of you some head scratches. “i really thought you took the cat and killed it or something,” he exclaims. he then heads to the mini cooler next to his rack of race suits and pops open a can of red bull. when he turns back around, you are now sat next to the cat, running your hands over its soft fur.

“you really think i would do that, maxie?” you say, raising an eyebrow. 

he goes back into panic mode, trying to defend himself. “no, no, no, i just meant-”

you cut him off, laughing. “relax, baby, i’m just messing with you. besides, i think we have a new member in our family now! what should we name him?” 

max sighs with relief, and comes to sit next to you on the bed. he says the first name that pops into his mind. “how about we name him jimmy?” 

you raise your eyebrow for the second time. “jimmy?” you say incredulously. “you want to name the cat jimmy?”

“okay, okay,” he says, holding his hands up. “how about…sassy? that cat was really sassy with me when i found it in the garage! that’s why i thought it was you!” 

“what is that supposed to mean?” you say bewilderedly. 

before max can answer, the cat yawns loudly in your lap and nuzzles close to you.

“you know,” you remark, changing the subject,  “i’m honestly really glad you found this little kitty.” you lean over and give max a peck on the lips, tasting a hint of red bull. 

an idea hits you. “hey, why don’t we name him redbull?”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby @madkohi @ralshatos

[scriptedinkbyxim]

Past the Finish Line: Into the Chicane [MV1]

Amidst the glitz and chaos of the F1 world and a very tense 2024 season, Max Verstappen and (Y/N) Sainz relationship faces a pivotal challenge. As racing pressures mount and emotions run wild, a moment of heartbreak leaves them questioning if love and ambition can coexist.

Pairings: Max Verstappen x Sainz! Female Reader

Warnings: Angst, So much Angst. Commitment Issues. Allusions to sex but nothing explicit. No happy ending.

A/N: Hi, Xim here. This is my first published fic and I hope you enjoy it. English is not my first language so apologies in advance for any mistake. This is pt. 1 of a three part mini series but can be read as a standalone.

Part 2. | Part 3.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

How did we end up here?

It was a question without an answer, one that lingered in the silence between them, thick and suffocating like the humid Budapest air pressing against the hotel windows. The suite was bathed in golden light from the city outside, reflecting the neon glow of the Hungarian Grand Prix weekend, but inside, the atmosphere was anything but warm.

Max stood with his hands on his hips, his jaw clenched so tightly that the veins in his neck were visible. (Y/N), across from him, arms crossed over her chest, blinking back the sting of tears that she refused to let fall.

Love was supposed to be a partnership.

It was supposed to be about growing together, supporting each other, facing life’s uncertainties as a unit. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. Sometimes, no matter how much history two people shared, no matter how deeply they had intertwined their lives, love alone couldn’t bridge the gaps that formed between them.

It had started with something small. It always did.

A simple question, an offhand comment.

She had been scrolling through her phone at the hotel, the post-race adrenaline still pulsing through her veins. The results had been disappointing, and she knew Max was frustrated—knew the weight of the season was pressing down on him more than ever.

But then she saw the article.

Verstappen Focused on Career, No Interest in Settling Down Yet.

She laughed. Not because it was funny, but because of how absurd it was. The media speculated all the time, twisting words, exaggerating things—but this? This wasn’t an exaggeration. This was him, in his own words, saying everything she had feared.

“You could’ve at least warned me before telling the world you have ‘no interest’ in a future with me,” she had said, tossing her phone onto the coffee table.

Max had barely looked up from where he was unlacing his shoes. “What are you talking about?”

She grabbed her phone again, shoving it toward him. “This.”

He skimmed the article, expression unreadable. “It’s just media nonsense.”

“Max.” She crossed her arms, pressing her lips together. “It’s your quote.”

He exhaled sharply, tossing his shoes aside before leaning back against the couch. “I told them what I’ve been saying for years. My focus is on racing. Everything else can wait.”

Her stomach twisted. “Everything else?”

He looked at her then, brows furrowed. “You know what I mean.”

Did she?

Because standing here, listening to him say it like that—like their future was something to be indefinitely postponed, something unimportant—it didn’t feel like she knew anything at all.

“Do I?” she asked, voice sharp. “Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like I’m just supposed to keep waiting while you decide if I fit into your perfect little plan.”

Max ran a hand down his face, already exasperated. “Why are you making this a big deal? You know how important this season is.”

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “I know how important racing is to you, Max. I’ve always known.”

It was the unspoken part that stung.

But do you know how important I am?

His silence answered that question for her.

φ

AUSTRALIA, 2015

The first time she met Max, he was just a boy with sharp blue eyes and a cocky grin, standing next to her older brother in the paddock. She had been fifteen, barely old enough to understand the world she had grown up in, but something about him had intrigued her.

Carlos had been the one to introduce them, laughing when Max—seventeen and already making a name for himself—had barely glanced at her before shaking her hand with a distracted nod.

She had rolled her eyes, unimpressed, and muttered something in Spanish under her breath. Whatever it was, it had caught Max’s attention, and for the first time, he had really looked at her.

“You speak Spanish?” he had asked.

“She’s my sister,” Carlos deadpanned. “Of course she does.”

Max now had a flirty smirk. Carlos had groaned, but (Y/N) just laughed, not knowing then that this arrogant Dutch boy would become the love of her life.

φ

They had fought before. God, they had fought. Stubbornness was ingrained in both of them, but this wasn’t like before. This wasn’t an argument that would end in tangled limbs and whispered apologies in the dark. This was something breaking—cracking apart at the seams, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hold it together.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Max’s voice was sharp, edged with frustration, exhaustion, and something deeper—something that made her stomach twist painfully. “You think now is the time for this? Right now, when everything is going to shit?”

(Y/N) inhaled sharply, nails digging into her palms. “I think now is the time because I can’t keep waiting for a ‘right’ moment that never comes.”

Max scoffed, running a hand through his disheveled hair, already damp from the heat. “So what? You want me to deflect from the championship with this? With fucking marriage and kids?”

The words were a slap.

She staggered under the weight of them, blinking as if that would somehow make them disappear. He didn’t mean it, she told herself. He was angry. Stressed. But the way he was looking at her—like she was asking for something outrageous, something unreasonable—made her chest ache in a way she hadn’t felt before.

“I’ve been with you for eight years,” she whispered, voice shaking despite herself. “Through everything. I have given you everything, Max. And you act like I’m some… inconvenience?”

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. He just stared at her, expression unreadable, and suddenly she was drowning in memories.

φ

SILVERSTONE, 2019

The energy at Silverstone was electric, the summer air thick with heat and anticipation. The race had been brutal—wheel-to-wheel battles, aggressive overtakes, and tensions running high.

(Y/N) had been in the paddock, watching the post-race interviews, still grinning from the chaos on track. Max had fought like hell against Charles, the two nearly colliding more times than she could count.

Carlos, standing beside her, let out a low whistle. “That was some proper racing.”

“Some proper reckless racing,” Lando chimed in, shaking his head with a smirk. “I swear, those two act like they have a personal vendetta.”

(Y/N) laughed, arms crossed as she watched Max approach from the media pen, Charles a few steps behind him. The Monegasque caught her eye first, giving her a knowing look. “You should keep your boyfriend in check. He drives like a lunatic.”

Max, overhearing, scoffed. “And you don’t?”

She stepped between them, rolling her eyes. “Are you two seriously arguing again? You just got out of the car.”

Charles smirked. “It’s called passion, Dolcezza.”

She shook her head but smiled, glancing at Lando, who was already pulling out his phone to film whatever chaos was about to unfold.

Then she felt Max’s arm loop around her waist, pulling her into his side. It was natural, instinctive—like muscle memory.

She looked up at him, arching a brow. “What are you doing?”

“Reminding Charles that you’re mine,” he said, smirking.

She rolled her eyes, but her heart fluttered anyway.

Lando, never missing an opportunity, pointed his phone at them. “Aww, look at you two. So cute.”

Carlos clapped Max on the back. “Alright, lover boy. Let’s go debrief before you and Charles start throwing punches.”

As the group walked off, she stayed behind for a second, looking back at the track. The adrenaline, the heat, the pure joy of racing—it was everything Max loved.

And she loved him.

Back then, she had believed that was enough.

φ

“Do you remember Silverstone?” she asked suddenly, voice thick with emotion breaking the silence.

Max blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“2019. After the race.”

His brows furrowed. “Yeah, of course. Why?”

She let out a shaky breath. “Because back then, you wanted me by your side. You wanted a future with me. And now…” She gestured helplessly between them. “Now I don’t even know if I fit into your life anymore.”

Max stepped forward, frustration flashing in his eyes. “That’s not fair, Schatje. You know I want you with me.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Do I? Because from where I’m standing, all I see is a man who only prioritizes me when it’s convenient.”

His jaw clenched. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Her voice cracked. “You’ve built your entire life around racing, Max. And I’ve let you. I’ve supported you through everything, sacrificed parts of myself just to be what you needed. But when do I get to be a priority? Do you even think about a future with me anymore?”

The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

Finally, Max exhaled, shaking his head. “I can’t do this right now.”

She flinched.

Not I don’t want to lose you.

Not We can figure this out.

Just I can’t do this right now.

And that was all she needed to hear.

She looked out the window as the sun set, trying to hold on to the remaining pieces of their relationship.

φ

BARCELONA, 2016

It happened in Barcelona, after the race. It wasn’t anything grand or cinematic. No fireworks, no dramatic declarations of love—just two teenagers who had spent months circling each other, neither willing to admit what had been obvious to everyone around them.

They had been walking through the Red Bull hospitality area late at night, the paddock nearly empty. (Y/N) had teased him about his race start, and he had nudged her shoulder in response, grumbling about how she and Carlos always ganged up on him.

Then, suddenly, the air shifted.

She had looked up at him, at those sharp blue eyes, and for the first time, there had been no hesitation. No fear.

He had kissed her like he had been waiting to do it forever.

And maybe he had.

φ

Max exhaled harshly, shaking his head as if trying to take back his last words.

She let out a bitter laugh, stepping away from him, away from the suffocating weight of this argument. Her hands trembled as she wiped at her face, furious with herself for letting the tears slip free.

“I was there when you won your first race,” she said, voice quiet now, laced with pain. “I was there for your first pole, your first championship. I put my career—my life—on hold for you because I believed in us. I believed in you.”

Max flinched, just barely, but it was enough. Enough for her to see that he knew—deep down—she was right.

And yet, when he spoke again, his voice was cold. “I can’t afford distractions right now. Not with the way this season is going.”

φ

ABU DHABI, 2021

She had been in the garage, hands clasped together so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. The final lap. The final chance.

And then—Max had done it. He was an F1 World Champion.

She had barely had time to react before he was running toward her, before she was in his arms, laughter and tears mixing as he spun her around.

“You did it,” she whispered against his shoulder.

He had pulled back just enough to press his forehead against hers, grinning like a madman. “We did it Schatje.”

At that moment (Y/N) felt as if they were in heaven, as if with Max everything was possible. Nothing indicated otherwise, she was in heaven and nothing could have prepared her for the fall.

φ

Now she felt like a fool. 

His words echoed in his head like torment.

Distraction.

That was all she was to him.

She had loved Max since she was sixteen. Supported him through every win, every loss, every moment of doubt. And now, when she was finally asking for something in return, he was acting like she was asking for the impossible.

“I’m not saying we have to get married and start having kids tomorrow,” she said, voice tight. “I’m saying that after eight years, I need to know if there’s a future here. If I even matter to you beyond being someone who follows you around from race to race.”

Max exhaled harshly, shaking his head. “You know you matter to me.”

“Do I?” she challenged. “Because it doesn’t feel like it, Max. It feels like I’m just another part of your career, like I exist to be there for you but never the other way around.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?”

(Y/N) stared at him, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, and suddenly it was so clear. There was no answer to the question that had haunted her since the fight started.

How did we end up here?

She took a step back, then another, and Max didn’t move. Didn’t reach for her.

And that was it. That was all she needed to know.

“I hope you win,” she said, her voice hollow. “I really do. Because if you don’t, then you’ve lost everything for nothing.”

Then she turned and walked away, leaving behind the man she had loved for eight years and the life she had built around him.

As the door clicked shut behind her, leaving nothing but the ghost of her presence and the sharp scent of her perfume in its wake, Max remained motionless. The silence in the hotel room felt suffocating now, pressing against his ribs with the weight of unsaid things. I hope you win. The words rang in his ears, curling around his thoughts like a vice, and for the first time in his life, victory felt like a consolation prize rather than a triumph. 

He exhaled, slow and measured, running a hand through his hair as if to steady himself, but the ache in his chest remained—something raw, something unresolved. He should have stopped her. He should have said something. But all that remained was the quiet hum of the city outside and the space where she had stood, her absence louder than any of the words they had spoken. What had he just done?

φ

MONACO, 2024 – ONE WEEK LATER.

(Y/N) moved through their apartment with practiced efficiency, collecting the last of her things. The space was eerily silent without Max’s presence—no sound of him pacing while on the phone with his agent, no distant hum of the simulator running late into the night.

She had always loved this apartment. It had been their home together, the place where they had grown from teenagers in love to adults navigating life side by side. Every corner held a memory—a lazy morning spent tangled in bed, a quiet evening watching the sunset from their balcony, a passionate night lost in each other's bodies, the scent of Max’s cologne lingering in the hallway.

But now, all those memories felt like ghosts.

She moved to the dresser, opening the top drawer. His shirts were still there, neatly folded. She hesitated before picking one up, pressing the fabric between her fingers.

It smelled like him. Like home.

Her breath hitched.

She had fought for them. She had given everything.

And Max… he had let her.

She placed the shirt back, smoothing it down with trembling fingers before shutting the drawer.

There was nothing left for her here.

Her clothes were gone from the closet. The photos of them that had once decorated the walls had been packed away. It was as if she had never been there.

And maybe that was fitting.

Maybe, in the end, she had always been a ghost in his life—something present but never permanent.

She exhaled shakily, picking up her bags. The apartment door loomed before her, the final threshold between the life she had built and the unknown future waiting beyond it.

As (Y/N) stood in the doorway one last time, she hesitated—just for a second.

φ

MONACO, 2020

The apartment smelled of fresh paint and new beginnings. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the living room in golden afternoon light, the Mediterranean stretching endlessly beyond the balcony. (Y/N) stood in the middle of the half-unpacked chaos, a cardboard box in her hands, watching as Max struggled with assembling a bookshelf. His brows were furrowed in frustration, lips pressed into a thin line as he fumbled with the instructions.

"You know, for someone who drives at 300 kilometers per hour, you’re really bad at putting things together," she teased, biting back a laugh.

Max shot her a glare before tossing the manual aside. "I don’t need instructions," he huffed.

(Y/N) arched her brow. "That’s exactly what someone who definitely needs instructions would say."

With a sigh, Max slumped onto the floor, running a hand through his hair. "I hate this already."

She set the box down and moved to sit beside him, nudging his shoulder with hers. "Maybe if you let me help—"

He turned his head slightly, eyes softening as he looked at her. "You’re really here," he murmured, as if the reality of it was only just sinking in.

She tilted her head, amusement fading into something more tender. "Of course, I’m here. I wouldn’t be anywhere else."

The pandemic had changed everything. Racing was postponed, the world had slowed down, and in the stillness of it all, they had found themselves craving something more permanent. She had just finished her literature degree, unsure of what came next, but when Max asked her to move in, the answer had been easy.

"Are you sure about this?" he had asked her a week before, voice hesitant over the phone.

She had smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. "Max, I’ve basically lived in airports and hotel rooms with you for years. At least this way, I finally get a closet of my own. Besides, I can't spend another minute with my brother and Dad while on lockdown." She said with a laugh, Carlos protests could be heard in the Background.

Now, sitting in their new apartment, surrounded by boxes of their intertwined lives, she reached for his hand. "I think we’re going to be really happy here," she said, squeezing his fingers.

Max exhaled, leaning his forehead against hers. "Yeah," he murmured. "Me too Shatje. Me too."

And for a long time, they were.

φ

How did we end up here?

The truth was simple. She already knew.

She had loved him more than she had loved herself.

Love wasn’t always enough.

People grew, evolved, sometimes in different directions. Some fights were worth having, but others—others only proved how much two people had already lost.

Love wasn’t enough for them. No matter how much they had tried, no matter how much she had wanted to fight for them, it wasn’t enough.

And with that final thought and one last breath, she stepped forward, closing the door behind her, and walked away.

[pucksandpower]

I have so many thoughts on why this is a horrible idea and not enough words to properly describe it.

The age regulations were put into place for a reason — just because Toto Wolff is obsessed with finding the next Max Verstappen does not mean that Kimi Antonelli should be granted an exception that will only serve to rush his development.

The fact of the matter is that only Max Verstappen is Max Verstappen … forcing Kimi into a struggling Williams team with barely any time in Formula 2 under his belt after completely skipping Formula 3 will only serve to hurt him.

Kimi Antonelli deserves time to develop. He deserves time to at least finish a feeder series season before being thrown straight from the frying pan into the fire. There are very few cases in which rushing young athletes does not ultimately cause more harm than good.

On the other side of the coin, dropping Logan Sargeant (and doing so in the middle of the season) has the potential to massively hurt Williams from a business standpoint. They are finally in a trajectory to recover financially after years of struggle thanks in large part to the many American sponsors who ended up signing thanks to — you guessed it — them having an American driver in Logan Sargeant. This comes at a time when Williams has already taken numerous hits to its image throughout the earlier races of the season. Considering Formula 1 is just as much about business as it is about what actually happens on the track, I would be concerned about the repercussions that such a move could have.

Now, on to Logan Sargeant himself. It is no secret that he is far from the best driver on the grid, but improving performance requires support from your team, something that has unfortunately been quite spotty to start the season despite the pretty words James Vowles often spins. Logan has been given the short end of the stick race after race after race at a crucial time for his development, the opposite of what any driver that has to prove themselves needs at such a point in their career.

Last, but certainly not least, James Vowles famously said that he is not looking to turn Williams into a “mini-Mercedes” … but is that not exactly what dropping a driver from Williams’ own development program in favor of doing Toto Wolff’s bidding would mean for the team? Williams has no hope of moving away from being viewed as Mercedes’ B-team if their actions directly counteract these words.

I’m sure there is so much more I should say about this, but I hope I managed to adequately explain why I think Williams dropping Logan Sargeant in favor of Kimi Antonelli in the middle of the season has a lot of potential to backfire for all involved.

[diqldrunks]

f1 masterlist!!

requests are open!! [nav | inbox]

max verstappen

snap out of it — rivals to lovers series

oscar piastri

on air — interviewer!reader series

lando norris

you could start a cult

free fallin’ — fake dating series

charles leclerc

peer pressure — friends to lovers mini series

carlos sainz

bad idea, right?

lewis hamilton

george russell

esteban ocon

pierre gasly

lance stroll

fernando alonso

alex albon

franco colapinto

daniel riccardo

logan sergeant

mark webber

jenson button

sebastain vettel

kimi räikkönen

[starkwlkr]

f1 masterlist ✨

— here are all my f1 related works, thanks for reading!

platonic (all drivers)

just a girl

grid mom series

mini series

through the decades

summerween

charles leclerc

baby leclerc series

baby leclerc: teen edition

princess of monaco series

kiss with a fist

i love my wife

if he wanted to

i’ve got my eye on you

safety first

good for her

monaco does that to you

love hurts

go sports

ti amo

breakup with your boyfriend

off to the races

friends don’t kiss friends

mick schumacher

senna!reader series

who would’ve thought?

god is a woman

lewis hamilton

take care of you

george russell

and i love her

prince george?

dad approved

max verstappen

would’ve been

nothings going to hurt you baby

she’s always a woman

daniel ricciardo

still into you

it’s ricciardo actually

enchantè

you are in love

oscar piastri

intergalactic

cinephile

the winner takes it all

lando norris

you’re stuck with me

passenger princess

part time royal

royal baby

no rizz

crafting table

my favorite nepo baby

logan sargeant

my best friend’s girl

you’re my love

guanyu zhou

is your gf single?

carlos sainz jr.

black swan

pierre gasly

uncle duties

sebastian vettel

proud husband

me and my husband

cherry flavoured

fever dream

i wait for you series

she’s the boss

m & s

mark webber

boys on the radio

silver springs

that’s my type

exile

jenson button

she tells me shut up and i do

james vowles

happy anniversary

kimi raikkonen

little lies

toto wolff

divorce babe divorce

[onlyangel4]

potterhead. mv1. smau. part two.

max verstappen x girlfriend!reader

max's girlfriend is the biggest harry potter fan ever.

author's note: this will be a mini series of fluffy moments between this couple. i'm aiming for around 3-5 parts

faceclaim: haley lu richardson

part one

y/ninsta posted a story

written; london here we come

f1updates

liked by user6, user7, user8 and 34,182 others

f1updates: y/n and max have landed in london two days before the other drivers are scheduled to land. we wonder what they are going to be up to.

view all 1,211 comments

user6: it is strange because we expect the british drivers to be early, not these two

user7: whatever it is i just know these two are going to have the best fucking time

user8: i wonder...

wbtourlondon posted a story tagging y/ninsta and maxverstappen

written: today we are joined by two v.i.w (very important wizards)

maxverstappen posted a story

written: y/n has been crying since we got here

y/ninsta posted a story

written: so it turns out dreams do come true

y/ninsta posted a story

written: thank you for the best day ever

y/ninsta posted a story tagging maxverstappen

written: this might be my favourite picture of us

y/ninsta posted a story

written: day two in london and max surprised me with this what the actual fuck

maxverstappen posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: help she's crying again

y/ninsta

liked by maxverstappen, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and 582,199 others

tagged: maxverstappen

y/ninsta: when i was younger i always had my head in a book, i found fictional worlds easier than the real ones. harry potter was the first book that i really fell in love with. i will always call it my first love. but at the time the people in my life told me that i needed to focus on the real world, that no man would ever want a girlfriend obsessed with a fantasy world. well max just surprised me with the best two days ever and i am incredibly grateful for him, i love you so much.

view all 8,271 comments

maxverstappen: do you love me more than luna lovegood

y/ninsta: know your place

alexandrasaintmleux: next year's miami grand prix me + you = universial studios florida

y/ninsta: omg the best wag date ever

user9: i actually love how max supports her hobbies they may be different to his but he doesn't care. that is husband material.

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@jess-wither

@callsignwidow

@jenxjar

@rexit-mo

@kaorisakamotofan

@daemyratwst

@hiireadstuff

@jetless

@agustdpeach

@01rrdbull

@blushmimi

@kodzuvk

@mochimommy2002

@ilove-tswizzle

@eloriis

@mrsbrxkkxr

[multifandomgirl08]

A Year to Celebrate [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Format: Social Media

A/N: This is the last Social Media AU I have planned for now when it comes to Mini Verstappen. More may eventually get posted.

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

maxverstappen1

Liked by ynverstappen, victoriaverstappen, and 294,186 others

tagged: ynverstappen

maxverstappen1 Happy Birthday, my love. Another year older, and you grow more beautiful by the day.

View all 835 comments

fan17 Why do I feel like Nico had a hand in designing Y/N's cake?

fan42 Max, please stop simping on main... we get it!

fan87 Does she age at all? Seriously, I don't think she's aged a day since we've been getting pictures of her.

maxverstappen1

Liked by ynverstappen, danielricciardo and 756,457 others

tagged: ynverstappen

maxverstappen1 Happy Anniversary, mijn leeuwin. Married for three years and together for 7. We have shared and been through so much in that time. You becoming a mom to our boys, always being able to support each other in whatever we accomplish, and loving me through everything that comes our way.

ynverstappen Love you, mijn leeuw ☺️❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

fan42 New fan here. They've only been together how long??

fan78 Wow, time really does fly by. I still remember when Max first started posting pictures of Y/N to his instagram stories.

fan17 Look at Y/N practicing her dutch!

Feb 2, 2028

ynverstappen

Liked by danielricciardo, victoriaverstappen, and 578,231 others

ynverstappen Going through this beautiful journey one last time

kimi.antonelli When you are no long Mum's youngest child... 😭

View all 452 comments

fan52 Her nails are pink. Does that mean that they're having a girl?

fan28 I would die if they are finally having a girl.

fan37 Is that Max ducking out of the first picture?

fan93 Dude, we know it’s you who got her pregnant. There’s no need to hide.

fan75 Are we just going to pretend not to see what Kimi posted as a comment? When did Max and Y/N adopt him?

July 3, 2028

maxverstappen1

Liked by sophiekumpen, charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel, and 625,095 others

maxverstappen1 I've grown up with so many amazing women in my life. From my mom, my sister, to my wife, and now my daughter. My life wouldn't be the same without these women in it.

danielricciardo Whoever owes me money, pay up! I told you all!!!

pierregasly No! You were supposed to have another boy. alex_albon Pretty sure that's not how conception works pierregasly. You can't just choose whether you have a boy or a girl. landonorris Can I mail you your winnings?? Or do you take Cash App?

View all 1,382 comments

fan38 Max is FINALLY A GIRL DAD!!!!

fan57 Confirmation that all of Max's kids have Nic/k names?

fan92 As much as I’m here for Max finally being a girl dad… Y/N finally no longer being the only woman in the house. Now that’s something I can get behind.

fan76 Sophie must be so happy to finally have a granddaughter.

fan20 I hope we get some pics of Max having a tea party with his daughter when she's older. I demand to see photos of Max staring the camera down in a tiara.

fan45 Is Max trying to beat Checo in having children as well?

Nov 20, 2028

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca, @princessria127, @mysticalnightenthusiast, @green-thots, @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp, @ellelabelle, @lilypat, @dreamercrowd

[81pastrys]

Series Masterlist

All the series in one place!!

Main Master list

Color Index:

Green is finished

Pink is on going

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

College!AU

Overall Summary— The start of college and meeting your roommate is meant to be a fun experience, but your roommate turns out to be a a guy and not another girl: what ends up happening?

Lando love interest ; Oscar, Carlos, Charles, Max as peers

7 parts

Their Mechanic

Overall Summary— Her job as a mechanic begins to seep outside the garage and into a famous drivers arms

Lando love interest ; female mechanic ; a quarter of the grid mentioned

10 Parts

Grid Flirt

Overall Summary— The daughter of a 2 time world champion, Fernando Alonso, joins the grid with Red Bull, flirting her way around. It spirals when RedBull no longer wants her on their team and McLaren takes her in.

No love interest ; Christian Horner is a dick ; quarter of the grid mentioned throughout

13 Parts

The Mafia’s Princess

Overall Summary— When love and business collide it can be a deadly mixture.

Charles love interest ; darker theme ; some smut chapters ; a few grid mates mentioned

16 Parts

The Other Verstappen

Overall Summary— Max Verstappen’s younger sister races with Ferrari against him and his friends, but their father wants to rekindle with her after she cuts him off

Lando ish love interest ; Jos Verstappen’s lovely parenting

? Parts

Mini Bwoah

Overall Summary— Daughter of Kimi Raïkkönnen becomes a racing prodigy, but she stirs drama around the grid and ends up in one of their arms as their girlfriend

Mercedes Driver ; partying ; Lando’s secret girlfriend

? Parts

There’s No Legacy

Overall Summary— Nico Rosberg’s daughter joins McLaren after winning the Formula 2 championship and breaks records in her debut season

Oliver Bearman love interest ; Mental health mentioned ; max verstappen core racing

? Parts

[the-offside-rule]

Drivers while their s/o studies

Just a mini series I felt like doing. : )

Charles Leclerc

Charles smiled as he entered the room, holding a tray with snacks and coffee for Y/n who had been sitting at her desk since that morning. "Hello mom cœur, I thought you might need a little pick-me-up while you work." He said, placing the tray on the table. Y/n looked up from her laptop, a grateful smile forming. "Oh what would I do without you?" She said as she held his face and peppered soft kisses onto it as he emptied the tray onto the desk. "Cry, maybe." He joked.

Charles sat down beside her and began eating a protein bar before Y/n continued on typing. "How's it going anyway?" he asked, genuinely interested. "It's a bit overwhelming, but I'll manage. Your snacks will definitely help." She replied, taking a sip of the coffee. Charles chuckled. "I believe in you. I'll leave you to it for a bit, though. I'm going to meet Lorenzo and Arthur in the gym. You know how it is."

Y/n nodde. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll be here when you get back." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before heading out. "Take breaks, okay? Don't overwork yourself." He reminded her. "Of course, love. Have fun and give them my best!" As he left, Y/n couldn't help but smile. The small gestures made studying a lot more enjoyable, and she felt lucky to have Charles by her side.

Max Verstappen

Max woke up to an empty bed, the confusion evident on his face. Rubbing his eyes, he ventured into the living room, where he found Y/n engrossed in her laptop. Y/n spotted him from the corner of her eye and smiled at his sleepy face. "Morning, sleepyhead. Slept well?" She teased, looking up from her work. Max chuckled, and walked over to her. "Yeah, until I realized I was all alone." He placed a kiss atop of her head and peered over her shoulder. "What are you up to?"

"Got an assignment to finish, but you can keep me company." She suggested with a smile. Max raised an eyebrow. "Company? I was expecting a romantic morning, not a work session." Y/n laughed, "Well, I can't help it. University." He rolled his eyes. "I told you, you should have just gave in to being a stay-at-home girlfriend and now here we are with you leaving me I'm bed to work." Y/n chuckled at the light hearted joke. "Well if you loved me you would sit right here with me and keep me company, like a good temporary stay-at-home boyfriend?" Undeterred, Max decided to make the best of the situation. "Fine, but how about some breakfast first? I'll cook."

As Max prepared breakfast, they bantered back and forth, the kitchen filled with laughter. Sitting down on the sofa with their plates, Max linked his phone to the TV and began watching his race upcoming debrief that Red Bull had sent him. Y/n glanced at the screen every so often, finding it unbelievably distracting and whilst he had to watch it for work, why couldn't he just watch it on his phone?"Mind turning that off? I need to focus." Max pouted playfully. "Aw, come on. It's just background noise." She shook her head, "No, it's distracting. I need to concentrate."

A minor disagreement ensued, but Max, ever the compromiser, reached a resolution. "Fine, wear these," he said, handing her a pair of headphones. "You study, I watch my debrief." Y/n huffed, taking the headphones, "Deal. Just don't complain if I fail my exam because of this." Max grinned. "Deal, as long as you promise we actually so something romantic later on." Y/n grinned and connected her headphones to the laptop and began playing her music.

Lando Norris

Lando was deep into his online stream, enthusiastically commentating on his latest race in the virtual world. Meanwhile, Y/n diligently studied in the living room, trying to concentrate despite the growing noise. At first, it was fine because he only had Max on a voice call and then they started playing the F1 games and inviting drivers, and it all went to chaos.

The usual loudness was just about starting to sound normal until she heard a loud screeching from the streaming room. Y/n finally reached her limit. She threw her laptop to the side and stormed into the streaming room, wearing a bitter expression. Lando turned, smiling before the smile turned into a grim look. He...was...fucked. "Hi babe." He said quietly. "Lando, could you please keep it down a bit? I'm trying to study out here." She said calmly. She didn't want fans making up rumours about an argument.

Lando, still wearing his headset, looked guilty. "I will try, but Max is-" She cut him off. "Lando, you will be quiet. I cannot fail these exams. I just need you to be quiet. Understood?" He nodded. "I'm sorry, babe. I got carried away. I'll tone it down." The serious expression turned to a light hearted smile, before she looked to the computer, smiled and waved to greet the chat, before leaving.

Lando continued on playing, listening to the chaos on the call and not acting up. But the guilt lingered, and he suddenly had to leave the stream momentarily. "Hey, guys? I'll be right back. Just need to grab a drink, I'll be back in a sec. Promise." He announced to his fellow drivers and viewers before leaving the room. He rushed to the kitchen, returning to the living room with a peace offering of snacks and energy drinks for his girlfriend who sat on her bean bag with her study sheets sprawled across the coffee table. She looked up quickly before looking back to her work and continuing on typing. "I'm really sorry, Y/n. Here, I got you some goodies. Let me make it up to you." Lando said, kneeling down beside her and leaving a small plate of biscuits and sweets beside her. She looked between the plate and Lando, seeing the sincerity in his expression before she chuckled, accepting the snacks. "You're lucky you're cute when you're sorry. Just try to keep it down, okay?"

"Okay, I promise." He said, pecking her cheek and running back to the livestream with his can of Monster. Back in the streaming room, Lando continued his broadcast. He scrolled through the chat, noticing a comment from Y/n.

Thanks for the biccies, lovey <3 Good luck with your stream!

His fans erupted in supportive comments, finding the situation adorable. Lando couldn't help but smile, covering his face from how hard he was blushing. "You better leave me some 9f them biscuits, Y/n." Lando said into the camera. "Let's get back to the race, shall we?" The stream continued, with a more considerate Lando and a grateful Y/n watching from the sidelines.

Carlos Sainz Jr.

As the creatures and people of Madrid lay asleep in their beds, Y/n sat on her laptop working away beside her boyfriend who had just come back from a race weekend on the other side of the globe. Carlos stirred in his sleep, as the soft glow of Y/n's laptop pierced the darkness. "What are you doing?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Y/n glanced at him, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. "Sorry, babe. Got a deadline. Can't sleep." He sighed, and turned his back so he would be able to get even a glimpse of sleep. "Alright, just keep it down, please." He whispered. "Yes sir, Mr Sainz." She yawns, still typing.

In the morning, Carlos awoke to Y/n still typing away in their bed, exhaustion evident in her eyes. She got a lot of work done and had work in three hours. "Morning." He whispered, kissing her hand before sitting up. "Morning. Did you sleep alright?" Y/n asked. "Other than that one time you woke me, yes. Did you sleep at all?" Carlos asked. Y/n shook her head. "You should get some sleep before work. Finish this when you get home, yeah?" Y/n sighed in defeat. She wouldn't be able to go to work if she was this tired. Maybe a two hour sleep wouldn't hurt? " Carlos nodded, taking her laptop, placing it on the bedside table and tucking her into bed, . "You need to rest." He insisted. "I will wake you before work, mi amor." She reassured her, kissing her hair and letting her fall asleep.

When Y/n awoke, she looked out to see that the sun was awfully bright for 8am. Then she turned and saw Carlos walking into the room with a tray of coffee and toast. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked, sitting up. Carlos paused and looked at her. "Breakfast?" He replied in a question. Y/n looked at her phone, her eyes wide. "Oh my god! It's half past 11. I'm so fucking late!" She said. "No you aren't." Carlos replied, placing the tray on his locker. "I had work two hours ago!" She protested.

Carlos shook his head. "I called your boss, said you were sick." Y/n's eyes widened to what he had said. "Why'd you do that?" She asked. "Because you needed it." He replied, pulling the duvet over them and putting his arm around Y/n. "Carlos, I cant-" He cut her off. "Should we watch Berlín? It's meant to be really good." He said, flicking through the Netflix. "Babe. I'm serious. I need to go to work." She said. "And I have said before; you could quit work and I'll take care of you. You won't quit but I am still gonna take care of you. Now stay with me in bed and help me pick a series for us to watch."

She stopped complaining and lay in his arms. "Yeah. Berlín sounds good." She mumbled quietly. "Good, now here's some toast."

George Russell

George had brought Y/n to race weekends before, but this time, she found herself confined to the team's hospitality area, engrossed in her upcoming exams. She looked up to the TV evey so often to see how her boyfriend was doing before turning her attention back to her laptop. Like an angel sent, George decided to check in on her in between sessions, finding her buried in textbooks and notes.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked, pressing a kiss onto her head and leaning on the table. Y/n looked up, tired but determined. "Just trying to survive this study session. Well done on topping the session by the way." George grinned. "It's only the second practise. I think we know what strategy we're going for in qualifying though." He chuckled. "Have you eaten?" Y/n thinks for a moment and shakes her head. "You do know, you need to eat too."

She sighed, burying her head in her hands from exhaustion. "I know, I just lost track of time. Can you grab me something?" George smiled. "Of course." He replied, leaving momentarily and heading to the barista bar. He returned moments later with a croissant and a latte, placing them in front of her. "Fuel for the brain." he said with a smile. Y/n looked up at him appreciatively, "You're my hero, Mr Russell. Thank you so much."

"No problem. I know how important these exams are for you." He replied, sitting beside her. As she sipped the latte and nibbled on the croissant, George and her began talking. "Anything I can help with? Maybe a quick break to clear your mind?" Y/n smiled. "You being here is already a huge help. But maybe a motivational speech wouldn't hurt."

"Im not doing motivational speeches." They both burst into laughter, lightening the mood in the cozy hospitality space. George wrapped his arm around Y/n, offering comfort and support. "You're the best distraction," she admitted, leaning into him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "And you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Lance Stroll

Lance sighed as he opened the door to his bedroom after his return from the gym to find Y/n looking a bit frustrated. He arched a brow as he sipped from his water bottle and decided to approach her, concern evident in his eyes. "What's wrong, babe?" He asked, sitting down beside her. She sighed. "I'm not sure, but I just can't study. Maybe it's just because of how different it is from studying in my office back home." Lance thought for a moment."How about you use my office? It's quiet, and you'll have all the space you need." He suggested. "Oh no, I couldn't." She replied. "No, seriously. I never use it anyway."

Y/n's face lit up with gratitude as Lance led her to his office. The room was filled with shelves displaying Lance's collection of racing helmets and trophies. The large floor-to-ceiling window revealed a breathtaking snowy landscape of their estate. "This is perfect." Y/n whispered, finding the desk facing the wonderous view. Lance smiled, happy to help her. "If you need me just call. I'm just gonna hit the shower." He said, pressing a kiss onto her cheek. "Thank you, babe." She grinned, setting her stuff down. "Anytime." He shot back before leaving and making his way to his bathroom to shower.

Y/n had gotten a lot done since she sat down. The view was a perfect distraction but not too distracting that she couldn't focus. If anything, it was there to just calm her down before getting right back to it. An hour passed, and Lance returned with snacks, finding Y/n engrossed in her studies. "Hey, how are you getting on?" He asked, peering through the door. "Doing good, Lancelot. I am doing good." She smiled, still jotting down some notes. He walked in with a tray of snacks. In between him showering and him walking around the kitchen, he decided Y/n needed to take a break and made up a snack tray to bring her.

"Need a study break?" he asked, handing her a twix. Y/n grinned, "Definitely. Thanks for this, Lance. This office is amazing." Lance chuckled, "Well, it's only fair you get a taste of my world too. Plus, I like having you happy." As they enjoyed their snacks, the conversation turned from how everyone in the house has an office to the trophies and helmets on the walls.

"You know-" Lance began, taking down his Balu trophy from back in 2017. "This one's from my first podium. I was so excited that day." Y/n smiled as she sipped her cola. "I can see why. You've got an impressive collection of trophies, Lancey." He looked at her warmly. "But none of them compare to having my trophy girlfriend. I worked my ass off to even get you on a date." Y/n laughed. "I'm serious! You kept saying no!"

"You should've taken the hint." Y/n replied. "Then who would be sat in this office?" Lance asked. "I don't know. One of those weird models that throw themselves at you, I guess." She joked. "Yeah, but I prefer you." Lance said. There grew a comfortable silence before Lamce stood up, collecting the wrappers off the snacks and putting them back onto the tray. "I guess it's time for you to get back to studying." Lance said. "Thank you for the company." Y/n smiled as Lamce leaned down to give her a kiss. "How about we watch a movie later and order takeout? Sound good?" Lance suggested. Y/n nodded. You really are a dream."

[paleprincessturtle]

Always Somewhere

Sooooo, this one isn't my usual Harvey Specter fic. I've known F1 for ages (my fiance is a diehard petrolhead and an F1 huge fan, so I've heard about it here and there). But with all the media coverage, I've been exposed to the world of F1 more than usual lately. And I've had this idea in my mind for a couple of weeks now, so why not post about it?

This is definitely going to be a mini-series. Forgive any errors in my writing. I hope you guys enjoy this!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader (for now🤭)

Word count: 1.6K

DECEMBER 2021

It was a little over 9 pm when Max made the urgent call to Charles. Being alone in his apartment, Charles told him to come to his place. He wouldn’t say that Max was his best friend, but they always had that chemistry going on between them, also the urgency in Max’s voice, Charles couldn’t lie that he got quite worried. Even when his nickname was Mad Max, he never really let his emotions get the best of him outside of the racing world. Charles always saw him as a very poised man, against all odds.

The ding to Charles’ apartment startled him. When he opened the door for Max, he was surprised. Max looked... disheveled. The black circle under his eyes, the unshaved stubble. Max smiled weakly as he raised a bottle of wine. Max sat quietly on the couch as Charles disappeared with the wine bottle. He carried two glasses of wine and managed to also hold the bottle in his right hand. As Charles sat across from him, Max sighed. That deep long sigh that was laden with something heavy. It was silent for a couple of seconds before Charles broke the silence. “Are you okay?” Max didn’t look at him right away; his gaze fell upon the white fuzzy carpet under the table, then to the stacks of magazines on the table, to the wine glasses, to the withering flowers in the vase. Everywhere but Charles’ eyes. Max sighed again, and what after felt like an eternity, finally he met Charles’ gaze. “I feel like total shit,” Charles commented with a small laugh. “No shit.” Max snickered at Charles’ response. Max also felt the same way about their friendship. But Max knew Charles understood. Not to mention they live only a few minutes drive away. Desperate times called for desperate measures, Max thought. “I couldn’t sleep. When I slept, it was full of nightmares,” Max paused, Charles nodded and encouraged him to continue. “The burden of everything...” he trailed off; both his hands found their way to his face, and he groaned. Charles looked at him with full sympathy. He put a gentle hand on Max’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I can’t help much. But you know, if you are open to suggestions,” Charles threaded carefully as Max looked at him. “I know a therapist, a psychologist; she can help. She’s like the best one I know.” Again, Charles looked at him carefully. Afraid that Max took it as an offense at the prospect that he needed professional help. “You are seeing this psychologist?” Charles shook his head. “No. But I’ve known her since I was a kid.”

So that night, Max saved the number of said psychologist, just in case he wanted to go see her. The rest of the night went smoothly, transforming the depressing topic into a lighter one. Max laid on his sofa, Sassy sprawled across his chest. His finger hovered over the number he had just saved the previous few nights. Max won’t even deny it. There was some pride in him that he just couldn’t admit that he needed to talk. Of all the things he could do, he needed to talk. Just talk. But the past few nights had been horrible. “Fuck it,” he mumbled to the empty house as he pressed the number. A chirpy voice in French greeted him, and he awkwardly chuckled before saying that his fluency still needed some finesse to it. “Yes, I would like to set an appointment.” Max waited, sat straight up now. It was nerve-wracking, he thought. He listened (not so) patiently and nodded, “Just as soon as I can.” The chirpy voice came to a halt once again: “Okay, Mr. Verstappen. I can schedule you today at 6 pm. Would that be okay?”

It was 5.45 pm when Max arrived at the building. He sat there in his car, in complete silence. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He could just say he suddenly got sick and bailed out of it. Max was not one to pour his heart out. He sighed as he rubbed his eyes. He closed his eyes and leaned back. He took a steady breath. He needed this. He needed to get better for the upcoming season.

As he waited for the elevator to go up, he couldn’t help but marvel at the lavishness of the building. This psychologist must have made a lot to be able to rent a place like this. As the elevator came to a halt, Max took some cautious steps. He again was greeted by the same chirpy voice he heard on the phone just a few hours before. “Good evening, Mr. Verstappen.” She was greeted with a warm smile. Max stopped at the reception table and nodded his greeting. “Mr. Verstappen, there are some forms that need to be filled just before you proceed with your evening here,” she handed him a transparent clipboard and a pen.

Max then entered the psychologist's room. He pushed the heavy door and was greeted with a woody smell. The room was big with a ceiling-to-floor glass window overlooking the dark Mediterranean Sea. A woman, he bet wasn’t even older than him, turned to him as she heard the door being pushed open. She was beautiful, Max admitted. Not models kind of beautiful but like normal kind of beautiful. Her hair was long and wavy. She dressed in a tan sweater and navy pencil skirt just shy around her knees. Her high heels clacked over the marble floor as she approached Max. “You must be Max Verstappen; it's a pleasure to meet you,” she offered her hand and smiled at him. Her name dripped out of her mouth like honey. “You can call me Max.” Max sat down on the single-seater leather sofa just across from her. “Okay, Max. So how are you today?”

To his surprise, the conversation went smoothly. He didn’t feel like he was under the scrutiny or anything. He talked about his father, the burden of this year’s WDC, the nightmares, and the feeling that he had never done anything good enough. Everything. Before he knew it, their session was over. Max held himself from whining when she informed her that they had finished their session. “You should think about our conversation,” she said, looking at him thoughtfully, legs crossed. Max mused, deep in thought, then nodded. “We can continue this next week, yes?” She smiled at him before writing something down in her notebook. “Next week? That’s like so long,” Max's brows knitted. She laughed, and he found himself smiling at the sound. “You need to think about what we talked about today, Max. And not that I discredited your ability to think about it, but this type of thing takes time. Okay?”

FEBRUARY 2022

What Max only planned as one session turned into 5, and 5 turned into 20. It wasn’t always face-to-face sessions. Sometimes Max needed out of the country multiple times, so they continued via video calls. Sometimes, Max asked for more than one meeting per week. And she obliged as she deemed necessary. But on this 20th meeting, they met again in her office. After an hour passed, she put down her glasses on the side table. “Max, it is with great joy that I inform you that this is your last session with me,” she smiled brightly at him. Max was flabbergasted, to say the least. “What do you mean the last? I still need you." She smiled at him, full of understanding. “Max, let me ask you something. Say that you go see a doctor for a headache; the doctor prescribed you some ibuprofen. Upon deeper investigation, it happened that you have poor sleep hygiene, and you never ate on time. That is what caused you persistent headaches. While fixing your sleeping and eating schedule, you keep taking ibuprofen. But once you can maintain a good sleeping and eating schedule, the headaches vanish. Do you think you would still need to take the ibuprofen?” Max slowly shook his head. “Why?” she asked again. “Because the core of the problem is handled.” He answered but his voice was smaller than usual. “Exactly,” she smiled and watched him. “You don’t look happy,” she observed. “How if I can’t do it without you?” she gave him a warm smile and a gentle, brief squeeze on his hand. “It’s you that has been doing it all this time, Max. Not me. You did it all just before the season started. Wasn’t that your goal? You should be proud of yourself as much as I you.” Max nodded at her answer, feeling defeated. “You should be glad. Cheer up, Max! You don’t have to keep paying me now,” she tried to lighten up the situation with a joke. Max chuckled, “Money is not the problem.” She looked deep into his eyes. “I know.” They stayed like that for a couple of seconds until an idea crossed Max’s mind. “But we can be friends, right? You’re friends with Charles, and I’m also friends with Charles.” He looked at her, eyes full of hope. “We can’t be involved in any relationship at least until 2 years from today,” Max’s jaw dropped. “Said who?” he quipped. “Said the code of ethics,” she chuckled. “I’m also moving to Cambridge; I’m taking my doctorate.” She blushed as she shared the information; she was never really one to share with her client, even on the last termination session. Max beamed over the news, “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that! I hope England will treat you well.”

As Max waited for the elevator to bring him down, he realized he wasn’t that thrilled about the news that she was going to continue her doctorate, nor at the news that they couldn’t be in any relationship for the next 2 years. Something tugged at his heart. He was going to miss her.

[reidsworld]

Masterlist (a-z)

navigation - rules

Aaron Hotchner

Unveiled Secrets - Fluff The BAU team has a sneaking suspicion that their stoic leader, Aaron Hotchner, is in a relationship, but they don't know the extent of it.

Disobeyed Orders - Angst, Fluff Being married to your boss has its complications, especially when you have a habit of ignoring orders. Requested.

Elijah Mikaelson

In the Arms of Eternity - Angst After holding your dying body in his arms, Elijah realises what he has to do to protect you, even if it means breaking your heart in the process. Requested.

Hugh Jackman

Beekeeping Age - Fluff Who knew having a crush on your best friends dad would turn out so good? Requested.

Logan Howlett

A Different Kind of Training - Smut When sparring with Logan turns into something more.

Winter’s Constant - Hurt/Comfort, Fluff You have always dreaded winter, every year it’s a challenge just to make it through the day. Except this year, things are a bit different with Logan by your side. Requested.

Patience Wears Thin - Smut Logan’s flirty behaviour has you thinking he’s just being sarcastic. But when his attitude changes and his grumpiness intensifies, leading to him avoiding you, you confront him, only for him to finally snap. Requested.

The Time We Have - Angst, Fluff Logan struggles with the fear of dying and leaving Laura alone, but meeting you helps him find peace. Set in an AU where Logan does not die at the end of Logan (2017).

Beautiful Tragedy - Angst Set in late 1800s London high society, Logan Howlett falls for a woman who is off limits, resulting in what can only be described as a beautiful tragedy. Part 2.

Out of Control - Hurt/Comfort Logan helps you learn to control your powers. Requested.

Cinnamon and Whiskey - Fluff Secret Santa and tipsy flirting with Logan at the X-Men Christmas party. Requested.

Drabbles

Giving old man!Logan head

Giving him head pt. 2

Headcanons

Birthdays - Fluff

Mini-Series

Scars of Time For decades, Logan and you have been each other’s sanctuary in a world that never offers peace. From a fateful encounter in a dive bar to a life together at the X-Mansion, your bond has weathered countless trials. But as Logan’s once-impenetrable healing powers begin to fail and your own abilities start to drain you, the stakes grow perilously high. With your love on the line and survival in question, can you both endure the ultimate test of sacrifice and devotion? Or will the scars of time finally come to bite you in the ass? Requested. Ongoing.

Max Verstappen

Baby Fever - Fluff Max gets a case of baby fever after seeing you with his nephew. Requested.

Spencer Reid

Parties - Smut Spencer, Reader's boyfriend, gets jealous of the Readers family friend at a party.

[toppersjeep]

Where Do We Go Now- Lando Norris X Reader

A six part mini series

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Summary: Y/N Gasly is Landos racing strategist and a reserve driver for McLaren. Her and Lando have been best friends for years ever since they both started out in F1. You’d think that being so close they would be the ones together. But Y/N has been in a relationship for years with Max Verstappen. However things aren’t always as they seem with Max and Y/N. Is there relationship perfect? Or is it strictly a business relationship?

And Lando has always had feelings for you so what will happen to your relationship when you find out the truth. Most importantly who will you decide to be with in the end?

Will it be Max?

Or

Will it be Lando ?

The choice is all yours but will you make the right decision? Or the wrong one …

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

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