#melbourne grand prix

[idontknowhowtoski]

Seeing people not understand why Oscar is doing this partnership with Grill'd has me kinda heated. Considering that the first grand prix of the season is in Melbourne and Grill'd is one of the biggest burger chains in Australia this is an incredibly smart move from Oscar in my opinion. There are nearly 200 locations across Australia which makes it one of the most prevalent food chains in the country and the brand was founded in Melbourne. This isn't some nameless burger place that he stumbled into a brand deal with.

[isawthesainz]

mclaren Respect 🤝🧡

[sharldose]

mmm domination

[noahkahansversion]

i cry over the haas boys constantly, cry about lance stroll, cried about logan, cried about the carlando podium, cry about daniel being outshined by yuki, cry about liam lawson not getting a seat even when he was outperforming yuki, cry about lewis and nico, cry about lew to ferrari, cry about every mention of jules, like im such a crier

-this was my rant to my friend about a tiktok i saw saying they cried over the drivers a lot, and just yeah. of course i cry over the drivers all the time. i cry over everything.

AS WELL!! I watched the Melbourne grand prix last night, it’s the first race I’ve ever watched and honestly? I’m so happy my first race was a non redbull win! It was so so cool, and the ferrari team all singing the italian anthem together at the end? like driving me insane this sport is so gorgeous guys. i just love it so much. also go aston martin, really sucks about the fernando penalty but did kinda look like he was breaking early. george russell crash 😭 the panic in his voice over the radio calling for a red flag? so so heartbreaking, i was so scared for him. i’m really proud of haas for getting two cars in the points, slay for yuki for getting points, shame for williams after all they’re shit about taking logan out of the car just to not get points, and then more horrid pit stops for stake/kick/sauber whatever they’re called! and alpine, driving their tractors.

[pretty-inred]

FIRST ISACK HADJAR ,NOW DOOHAN AND SAINZ NOOOO ,I DONT KNOW IF IM GOING TO SURVIVE THIS RACE ! :(

[if-u-know-me-no-u-dont]

Well this has been a rollercoaster. I will now die

[jv-f1]

Fan selfies with James in Melbourne! 🥺

— All via Instagram

[marsinoff]

ah shit james it's your fault

[brainddeadd]

Videos from qualifying day at the Melbourne Grand Prix 2025 🏎🏁

[love-dele]

Max and Danny always give me visions, so here is my Australian GP cover 🥰

[isawthesainz]

mclaren P1 🤩

[sharldose]

🔵🔴🔴

[landoughnut]

Green Light, Red Flag

♡ masterlist - request

♡ pairing - max verstappen x fem!reader

♡ summary - max likes you, but it takes the strong feeling of jealousy to admit it

♡ warnings - jealous max, angry-ish love confession, fluff

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.1k | du du du du

"To Super Max!"

The cheer echoes through the private room of the Monaco nightclub as champagne flows freely. Another win, another celebration, and you can't help but smile as you watch Max try (and fail) to dodge the shower of bubbles from his teammates.

"Honestly, you'd think they'd be tired of spraying champagne after the podium," you mutter to your friend, Hannah, who's watching the chaos with amusement.

"Bold of you to assume they ever get tired of it," she laughs.

You've been part of the Red Bull team's PR department long enough to know she's right. Your eyes drift back to Max, who's now arguing with Checo about something, gesturing wildly with his hands the way he does when he's excited. His face is flushed from the champagne and victory, hair still messed up from his helmet, and you ignore the familiar flutter in your stomach when he catches your eye across the room.

"Oi!" He calls out, making his way over. "Why aren't you celebrating properly?"

You raise your barely-touched glass. "Some of us have to work tomorrow, Verstappen."

"Tomorrow's problem," he says, dropping into the seat next to you. His shoulder brushes yours, and you pretend not to notice. "Today we celebrate."

"You mean you celebrate. I just watch you lot make fools of yourselves."

He clutches his chest in mock offense. "I'm wounded. Here I am, trying to include you in my moment of glory—"

"Your fifteenth moment of glory this season," you correct.

"—and you're just standing here judging me." But he's grinning, that competitive spark in his eyes that you've come to know so well.

"Someone has to keep your ego in check."

"That's what I keep you around for," he says, and something in his tone makes you look at him sharply, but he's already being called away by Christian for photos.

You watch him go, trying to ignore Hannah's knowing look. "Don't start," you warn her.

"I didn't say anything!"

"You were thinking it very loudly."

The night progresses in a blur of music and laughter. You're in the middle of a conversation with GP when you feel someone tap your shoulder.

"Excuse me," says a voice you don't recognize. You turn to find a rather handsome man in an expensive suit. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. I'm James."

"Oh, um, hi," you manage, caught off guard by his forward approach.

"I'm with the Mercedes hospitality team," he continues smoothly. "Would you like to dance?"

Before you can respond, you feel a presence behind you – familiar, solid, radiating tension.

"She's busy," Max says flatly.

James raises an eyebrow. "I believe the lady can speak for herself?"

You turn to give Max an exasperated look, but the words die in your throat. You've seen every version of his competitive face – the focused pre-race stare, the triumphant victory grin, the frustrated post-DNF scowl. But this? This is new. His jaw is set, eyes dark with something that looks suspiciously like jealousy.

"Max," you say carefully, "I can handle this."

"Can you?" he snaps, then immediately looks like he regrets it.

James glances between you two, understanding dawning on his face. "Ah, I see. My apologies, I didn't realize—"

"There's nothing to realize," you say quickly, at the same time Max growls, "Yeah, you should apologize."

"I'm just going to..." James gestures vaguely and makes a tactical retreat that would make Toto proud.

You round on Max. "What the hell was that?"

"What was what?" He's doing that thing where he pretends to be completely oblivious, which might work on journalists but has never worked on you.

"That whole caveman routine! Since when do you care who I dance with?"

"I don't," he says, but he won't meet your eyes. "I just... don't trust that guy."

"Right, because clearly I can't make that judgment for myself?"

"That's not what I—" He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "Can we not do this here?"

You glance around, suddenly aware that several people are trying very hard to pretend they're not watching this exchange. "Fine. Outside. Now."

The Monaco night air is cool against your skin as you step onto the club's terrace. The city glitters below, the same streets Max was racing through just hours ago. He's standing at the railing, knuckles white where he grips it.

"Max," you say softly, "what's really going on?"

He's quiet for so long you think he might not answer. Then: "I don't like seeing you with other guys."

Your heart stutters. "Why?"

"Because!" He turns to face you, and there's that intensity again, the one that makes him such a force on track. "Because every time some guy looks at you like that, I want to... I don't know. Put up a safety car or something."

A laugh bubbles up despite yourself. "Did you just make a racing analogy about your feelings?"

"Shut up," but there's a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"Sorry, sorry." You step closer. "Please, continue with your vehicular emotions."

He groans. "This is why I never said anything. You make everything into a joke."

"Says the king of deflection." You're close enough now to see the flecks of gold in his eyes. "But if you're being serious... I don't like seeing you with other people either."

His breath catches. "No?"

"No." You reach up to straighten his collar, letting your hand linger. "Kind of ruins my plans to eventually marry you and steal all your trophies."

The tension breaks as he laughs, real and warm, his hands finding your waist. "That's your master plan? Bit obvious, isn't it?"

"Well, I was going to be subtle about it, but then you had to go and get all jealous and dramatic—"

He cuts you off with a kiss, and oh – this is nothing like the Max the world sees. This is soft and sweet and just a little desperate, like he's been holding back for as long as you have. You melt into it, fingers curling into his shirt.

When you break apart, he rests his forehead against yours. "Just so we're clear," he murmurs, "this means you're not dancing with anyone else tonight."

"Possessive much?"

"You like it."

"Maybe." You steal another quick kiss. "But only because you're cute when you're jealous."

"I wasn't jealous," he protests automatically.

"Sure, and you also 'don't care' about breaking Seb's record."

He pinches your side playfully. "You're impossible."

"Yeah," you agree, sliding your arms around his neck. "But I'm your impossible."

His smile – soft and real and just for you – is better than any podium celebration. "Deal."

When you eventually return to the party, hand in hand, no one looks surprised. Checo hands Hannah what looks suspiciously like betting money, GP just rolls his eyes fondly, and Christian mutters something that sounds like "finally" into his drink.

Max doesn't leave your side for the rest of the night, and if he holds you a little closer when James walks past, well – you're not complaining. After all, some victories are worth celebrating more than others.

[pretty-inred]

At this pace , I’m rooting for anyone who finish the race.

[world-of-celebs]

Alexandra Daddario attends the Formula 1 Australian Grand Prix with Tag Heuer on March 14, 2025 in Melbourne, Australia.