#mv33 one shot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maxtermind · 3 months ago

Note

for the 3k event can you do oscar or max (or both iykwim🤭) with “i want to hear you beg” and “aw, to bad i don’t care”

“i want to hear you beg.” + “aw, too bad. i don’t care.”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: you have a meeting to attend but your jealous boyfriend couldn't give less fucks. well one fuck. ★:feat:: max verstappen x reader ★:genre:: NASTY smut ★:a/n:: kinktober? 3k event? max's birthday post? who knows

"max, i-i really can’t right now. i’m late," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. you glance at the clock on your desk, anxiety gnawing at you. you should already be in the conference room, and yet here you are, pinned against your own desk by the man whose jealousy has been brewing for days.

his response is a low growl in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "you’re not going anywhere," max murmurs darkly, his grip tightening on your hips. his body presses against yours, the heat of him radiating through your clothes. “not until he knows who he's messing with.”

you try to protest, to push him away, but your body betrays you. the moment his lips crash against yours, you’re kissing him back just as fiercely. the intensity of it, the raw possessiveness, sends your pulse racing. you want to tell him to stop, to remind him of the meeting you’re late for, but the words die on your lips.

instead, your fingers clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer. you hate how much you want this— how much you want him— despite the circumstances.

"m-max," you breathe, but it’s not a real protest. you feel his hand slide up your thigh, your skirt hiking up with every touch. "i ha.. have a meeting…"

“aw, too bad i don’t care,” he mocks against your ear, his fingers already hooking into the waistband of your panties. you gasp as he tugs them down, the cool air hitting your skin. his voice is thick with jealousy, low and possessive. "you want this just as much as i do, baby. don’t pretend you don’t."

he’s right, and you hate it. you can feel the wetness between your thighs, it's almost embarrassing, your body betraying the urgency of your situation. the logical part of your brain is screaming at you to stop, to tell him no, but the rest of you is aching for him, craving the way only he can make you feel. you just wish he knew that too.

you hear the rustle of his clothes as he frees himself, and before you can think of another excuse, he’s thrusting into you, filling you in one swift motion. a moan escapes your lips, your hands gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. the suddenness, the intensity—it’s too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you need.

"see?" his breath ragged as he thrusts deep into you, pinning you against your desk, slapping your butt as it wiggles back into him, seeking some relief. "no one else can fuck you like this. no one else can make you feel this good." before his words even finish, his hips already start moving with a relentless pace.

his words send a wave of heat through you, your body arching back into him, seeking more. the meeting is a distant memory now, completely overshadowed by the sensation of him inside you, the roughness of his hands on your hips.

the door to your office is unlocked, and the thought of someone walking in on you, seeing you bent over your desk while max takes you, only heightens the intensity.

"max, s-someone could—" you whine, your voice shaky with both desire and fear, a deadly combo.

"let him," he growls, his grip tightening. "let him see who you really belong to."

his words send a surge of arousal through you, and you know you’re already too far gone to care about anything else. the way he’s thrusting into you, his pace unyielding, his breath hot against your neck—it’s everything. every time you try to form a coherent thought, it’s shattered by the overwhelming pleasure that’s building inside you.

you try to hold on, to fight it, but your body is betraying you. his possessiveness, the roughness of his touch, the way he’s claiming you—it’s pushing you closer and closer to the edge. your legs tremble, your breath coming in short gasps as you feel yourself unraveling.

"max, i’m-" you try to warn him, but the words get lost in the haze of pleasure.

he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he thrusts harder. "you’re mine," he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction. "say it."

"i’m yours," you moan, your voice trembling as the pressure builds, the tension in your body coiling tighter and tighter. the thought of someone walking in, of seeing you like this—helpless, claimed, utterly his—sends you spiraling. and then the worst thing happens.

"max, noo!" you whine pathetically as he pulls out of you, the string of juices connecting you both drops on the floor and tears well up in your eyes as your thighs tremble, your poor hole clenching around thin air. your boyfriend flicks the tear away and shushes you as holds your body firmly.

"i just wanna hear ya' beg, honey." you open your eyes to watch him eyeing his dick that was rubbing the slick against your clit, your puffy pussy barely able to handle it. so fucking messy. each rub, each touch making your back arch further. "bad girls don't get free orgasms."

"c'mon, baby." max taunts with a fake pout as you move to get more friction, to reach that high again. "don't go all dumb on me now."

it wasn't till he was removing his whole body from yours that immediate cries of please max, please, please, plea- was falling out of your lips.

your boyfriend immediately goes back into action and it wasn't too long before he was inside you again and his hand connected to your clit that you were gasping and screaming altogether.

your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing around him as you cry out, barely able to hold yourself up. the intensity of it makes your vision blur, your legs shaking as you cling to the desk for support. your mind goes blank and all you can fell is your boyfriend still rutting into you, now frantic and not in a rhythm, meaning he was close.

"fuc-ck," max groans soon enough. you feel him tense, his hands gripping your hips even tighter, surely going to leave bruises, as he thrusts into you one last time, whispering your name as he spills inside you. for a moment, you’re both still, breathless and trembling, making sense of what just happened.

you’re the first to break the silence, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you try to pull yourself together. "i- max, i have to go," you whisper, though your voice is weak. your legs still feel like jelly, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all.

you barely manage to stand, your legs shaky, your mind still reeling from the intensity of whatever the fuck just happened. before you can even begin to gather yourself, there’s a knock at the door. panic surges through you as you try to fix your dress, max rushing to help you look put together but it’s too late.

the door opens, revealing your coworker—the one who’d unknowingly triggered max’s jealous streak in the first place. his eyes flicker from you to max, confusion and something else flashing across his face as he takes in the scene. you’re flushed, disheveled, barely holding it together, and max? max is smirking still patting your clothes and your hair because you can't move.

he gives your coworker a nod, as if to say, yeah, i know. the unspoken message is clear, and the smirk on max’s face says it all. he kisses your temple as he doesn't break eye contact with your coworker while you figure out the fastest way to die on the spot.

you’re late, and everyone knows why.

with a final, cocky grin, max walks out, leaving you to face the consequences. and the worst part? you liked it. all you can think about is him during the meeting, your ego too big to admit it out loud to him though.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

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afterglowsainz · 21 days ago

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positions | max verstappen

pairing: actress!reader x max verstappen

summary: your situationship from high school becomes a four time world champion and you send him a text congratulating him, opening the door to see him again

fc: zendaya

warnings: weird timeline, don’t pay attention to it

a/n: i’m finally back home so i can now post the celebration for max’s fourth championship (insane) (he deserves it so much) (i actually haven’t moved on from brazil)

—

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and others

redbullracing FOUR TIMES IN A ROW 🏆🏆🏆🏆 SIMPLY LOVELY

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liked by maxverstappen1, rachelzegler and others

yourusername when in monte-carlo… 🎾

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hunterschafer and go watch challengers on theaters!!!

yourusername what she said‼️

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[caption 1: 📍monaco] [caption 2: ❤️]

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, maxverstappen1 and others

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username max 👀

username MAJOR

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and others

maxverstappen1 los angeles is actually not that bad

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username if that is not y/n istg

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username max and y/n being on a situationship since before situationships were a thing

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liked by f1wags, bffusername and others

f1gossip max verstappen and actress y/n y/l/n were seen together in los angeles together on a date

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username savannah slow DOWN

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username the most random people you could think of 😭

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username i don’t know if i wanna be max or y/n

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liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and others

yourusername abu dhabiii⏳🏜

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username just fell to my knees

username the most gorgeous woman alive

lilymhe the most beautiful 🤩

yourusername 💘💘💘

username and she’s at the grand prix 😩😩

username we love a supportive girlie

username that’s an insane face card

username can’t believe we lost her to a man 😔

maxverstappen1 😍

yourusername ❤️

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starkwlkr · 28 days ago

Text

she’s always a woman | max verstappen

an: this fic is a special birthday fic for my lovely friend anto!! happy birthday love!! hope you enjoy your special day <3 also let’s just pretend that lewis wasn’t battling max for the championship in 2021 instead it’s max and the reader

tw: jos mention and narcissistic mother

Max couldn’t really remember why your friendship ended. He was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you had a bad race and needed some support, etc. He was always there so when you stopped talking to him, he was confused and hurt.

KARTING DAYS

At the time, the boys you raced against hated being beat by a girl. It was humiliating! A girl was faster than them? No way! But when Max Verstappen saw how fast you were, he was amazed. You made it look so easy.

“How many trophies do you have now?” Seven year old Max asked you as you two shared a bag of gummy bears, your favorite snack.

“I haven’t counted. What about you?” You questioned.

“I haven’t counted either.” He replied.

It was a long day of practice and all Max wanted to do was spend time with you and eat gummy bears. He noticed how you only ate certain colors like red, blue, orange and yellow. He asked why only those colors and your response was that those colors were your favorites, all the other colors looked unappetizing.

Spending time with you was something Max loved about karting. Most of the boys you competed with would rather lose than hang out with a girl, but not Max. He liked being around you. And it seemed like you liked having Max around too so it made no sense to Max why you stopped talking to him.

As time went on, Jos Verstappen kept a close eye on you. He certainly didn’t want some girl distracting his son. He kept telling Max how much of a bad influence you were, but of course Max didn’t listen. Why would he? He liked you and you liked him.

Unlike Max, your mother’s words went to your head.

“He’s just like the other boys, sweetheart. When you least expect it, he’s going to leave you heartbroken.” Your mother told you one day after another successful win. She watched the way Max stood next to you on the podium and clapped for you.

“But he’s my friend.” You said lowly.

“What did I say about this sport? You are not here to make friends, they are not your friends and neither is he. He’s competition and if you want to keep winning then you need to keep away from that boy!”

The next time Max saw you, he was the heartbroken one. Every time he kept trying to get your attention, you ignored him and turned the other way.

Did I do something wrong? Maybe I forgot her birthday? No, it was a month ago and we ate chocolate cake together.

All day Max was wondering what he did to make you upset. He had even brought a tiny bag with only red, blue, orange and yellow gummy bears for you. He had spent an hour picking out your favorite gummy bears and now you weren’t talking to him. . .

Little Max Verstappen had his first heartbreak at the hands of his first love.

The next day he figured you would start talking to him, but it was like he didn’t even exist in your world. He was starting to lose hope.

“Good, now you won’t have any distractions.” Jos told him after Max mentioned how you had stopped talking to him.

“But she wasn’t!”

“She was.” Jos confirmed.

Max stayed quiet. He knew it was no use trying to argue with his father.

As you both grew up, Max was beside you at every podium even if you weren’t on speaking terms. He hoped that maybe one day you would speak to him. He also kept a plastic bag in his bag with your favorite gummy bears to share with you in case that day ever came.

2021 SEASON

Max was both nervous and excited for the last few races of the season. Both you and him were battling for the championship. It was like a dream come true for him, both of you in Formula 1 and now you’re both in the championship picture. He wouldn’t have it any other way. To Max, it would’ve been better if you could at least acknowledge him.

It was after the Brazilian Grand Prix when Max wanted to congratulate you on your win, but had to wait until you finished with your interviews. He was eager to talk to you.

The post-race interviews were a whirlwind, but the moment that caught your attention was when a reporter, eager for a headline, asked you about Max Verstappen.

“We've heard that you and Max were childhood friends. What’s the story there? You two seem to be fierce competitors now. Was there any friendship left between you, or is it all business these days?"

Your smile tightened. It was the last thing you wanted to discuss, but you were a professional, and you knew better than to let your personal life spill over into the press room. Your gaze flicked to the corner where Max was conducting his own interviews, but you quickly refocused on the question.

“Max and I... we were friends, sure," you said coolly, your voice steady but your tone sharp, almost as if you were trying to distance yourself from the memory. "But that was a long time ago. I don’t really have time for friendships anymore. Racing’s my focus. It always has been."

“But you were so close back then," the reporter pressed. "Is it hard to battle him for the title, given your history?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain your composure. "Racing's not about who you used to be friends with. It’s about who’s the best right now. And I’m focused on being the best."

“So, no hard feelings?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You didn’t miss a beat. "No time for feelings," you replied, your lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Just results."

After finishing all your interviews, you walked back to your driver’s room. All you wanted was to lay down and take a much needed nap, but the sweet voice of a Dutchman stopped you. It had been years since you heard Max say your name.

Before you could say anything, Max stood up abruptly and walked toward you, his stride purposeful. He reached out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip, pulling you into your room without a word.

“Let go of me, Max," you whispered, but your voice cracked.

“No," he said simply, his tone rough, but his eyes were soft—something in them that you hadn’t seen in years. "I’m not letting you walk away again."

Your heart skipped a beat. His eyes searched yours, that fierce intensity you remembered from your childhood still present, though now mixed with something else—pain, perhaps. The unspoken hurt you both carried for so long hung between you two.

“Max," you began, but he cut you off.

“Why did you stop talking to me?" His voice was quieter now, but the question hung in the air, sharp and urgent. “Everyday i asked myself ‘did I do something wrong? Did I say something that hurt her?’ What is is? Why?”

Your throat tightened. You took a shaky breath, your eyes lowering to the floor. "You were my competition," you muttered. "And my mother… she made it clear. She said you would take everything from me. That I needed to stop talking to you or I’d lose everything." Your chest constricted, and you felt a sudden wave of bitterness rise within you. "She said you were nothing more than a threat to my future, and I had to focus—focus on winning.” It pained you to even remember all the talks your mother had with you about Max.

Max stared at you for a moment, taking in your words. The silence that followed was thick, the air between them charged with everything unspoken. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.

“I never wanted to take anything from you." His eyes were filled with a quiet sincerity that made your stomach twist. "I never asked for this. I never asked for us to be enemies."

Your breath hitched as a knot formed in your chest. You stepped back, your hands trembling. "But that’s what she wanted. She wanted me to beat you, to prove I was better. To make sure you didn’t have what I could have." Your voice cracked, the words tumbling out in a flood of emotion you had long kept hidden. "I—"

Your words faltered as you felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall. You tried to hold them back, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the competition, the years of silence—was too much. You turned away, pressing your palms to your face, feeling the dam break inside you.

Max didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his arms enveloping you in an instant. You stiffened at first, surprised by the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn't think. But then, something inside you snapped, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears finally came.

Max didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back, grounding you in the moment.

"I’m sorry," you whispered between sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You kept repeating.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if offering you the comfort and understanding you had been denied for so long. "You didn’t deserve any of that." You clung to him, unable to stop the flood of emotions that had been building for years.

Eventually, the tears slowed, and the sobs turned into shallow breaths. Max didn’t let go. He stayed, a quiet anchor, as if he would hold you for as long as you needed.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes were swollen, your makeup smudged, but you felt something lighter—something like relief, like a door you hadn’t realized was closed had finally opened.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” You wiped away the tears.

“I don’t really care about him right now,” Max responded. He took your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You need me right now.”

“Max, I don’t want you to get in trouble. You need to leave.”

“I’m a grown man. He can’t tell me who I can and any talk to.” He said.

“Then . . . I don’t care what my mother says either,” You declared. “You know, she said we couldn’t talk anymore because you were my competition. That I shouldn’t get too close to you. She thought it would make me weak."

“Your mom never understood that... you’re not my competition. You never were. You were my best friend. And I . . . I miss that.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Max.”

QATAR

The camera lights flickered on, and the usual hum of the media circus surrounded Max Verstappen as he sat in front of the press. Another victory under his belt, but the atmosphere in the room felt different today—slightly more tense than usual. The 2021 season was in full swing, and the rivalry between Max and his childhood best friend and fellow F1 driver, had become one of the most talked-about stories of the year.

“Max, earlier this week, someone that you knew quite well was quoted saying, ‘No time for feelings, just results,’ when talking about your past friendship. Given the intensity of your current rivalry, how do you feel about that statement?”

He took a breath and leaned forward, his voice steady but laced with an undeniable undercurrent of emotion.

“she’s one of the most focused and driven people I know. I don’t think anyone truly understands what it’s like to be in her head—how much racing means to her. She’s an artist, in every sense of the word, when it comes to driving. She doesn’t do anything halfway.”

A brief silence fell over the room. Max seemed to weigh his next words carefully.

“We’ve both been through a lot over the years, and yeah . . . I get why she said what she did. This sport can make you say things you don’t always mean. It can make you choose things—like cutting ties with people who used to be your family, just so you can win. But trust me, it’s not easy for her. Or for me.”

His voice softened slightly, the edge of competition giving way to something more genuine—something rooted in your shared history.

“She’s not the kind of person to just forget about things or people. I know her better than anyone,” He continued. It was as if he could talk about you all day and never get bored. “As for the championship, yeah, It’s just the way it is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I respect her more than anyone. She’s a hell of a driver, and I know what she’s capable of.”

Max leaned back slightly, the cool exterior of the driver once again overtaking his emotions. He was a fighter. And this season, he wasn’t just fighting for the title.

ABU DHABI

It had been weeks since your last conversation with Max, but occasionally you would sneak glances at each other. Maybe even smile at him, which caused the media to wonder if your friendship had finally been restored.

The paddock was bustling with the usual pre-race energy—team members darting around, engineers checking telemetry, and drivers preparing for what would be a pivotal race. But Max Verstappen was not focused on the usual chaos. He was standing in front of your motorhome, his jaw clenched as he faced a woman who had been an obstacle in his life for far too long: you mother.

All he wanted to do before the race was to wish you good luck but he had one problem that came in the form of your mother.

“This is a pivotal moment for her career, Max. The championship is on the line. She needs to focus.” Your mother spoke.

Max’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t need you to tell her how to focus. She’s not a child anymore. She’s not your puppet.”

She smirked, her gaze calculating. “Oh, I know exactly how to handle her. You, on the other hand, have always been a distraction. Just like you were when you were kids. I told her back then that you were competition. And look where we are now—competing for the championship.”

Max took a step forward, his voice low but sharp. “You don’t get to control her anymore. She doesn’t deserve the way you treated her. She never did. She’s not some tool for you to use to further your own agenda. She’s a person. A damn good one, too.”

Your mother raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smug grin. “And now you think you have feelings for her? After all these years? You’re wasting your time, Max.

Max’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of frustration coursing through him. He had always felt something for you—something deep and complicated—but he hadn’t realized how much until he saw you again. How could he not? The way you made him laugh, the way you understood him in a way no one else did. The way your presence grounded him when the world felt chaotic.

“I’m not wasting my time,” Max snapped, his voice rising. He was no longer just angry; there was something more vulnerable beneath his words. “I... I care about her. More than you’ll ever understand. And I’m not going to just stand by and watch you tear her down again.”

Her eyes widened, the smugness on her face faltering for just a moment. She hadn’t expected that. But she quickly recovered, her icy demeanor back in place. “You think you can just waltz in and change everything, Max? You think she’s going to forget the way I’ve always looked out for her?”

Max’s pulse was racing now. “You’ve never looked out for her. You’ve held her back. You’ve made her feel like she couldn’t trust herself. Do you know how many times she’s questioned her worth because of you?”

Before your mother could reply, Max spoke again. “If you think for a second that I’m going to back off now, you’re wrong.”

Your mother glared at the Dutchman. “I’ve spent years in Formula 1, fighting for every ounce of respect, and now I’m fighting for her, too. And I’m not letting anyone—least of all you—tell me what I can or can’t feel about her.”

His words hung in the air between them, the weight of them settling in. He turned to leave, but paused at the door of your motorhome, looking back one last time.

“Tell her,” Max said, softer now, “Tell her I’ll be waiting at the finish line. I’ll always be waiting.”

Maybe your mother would pass on the message, maybe not. Either way, Max would still be waiting for you.

The roar of the crowd still echoes in the distance, but it’s muffled, almost surreal, as you stand behind the barriers, your helmet under your arm, heart still racing from the intensity of the race. The buzz of the paddock feels far away, and your body is heavy with exhaustion and disappointment. You finished second—close, but not close enough. Max had done it. He’d won the championship, after all the drama and all the battles that had led them to this final, decisive moment.

You lift your eyes and see him, standing by his car. Max, in his usual composed way, looking like he belongs there, like he's always belonged there, standing among the team and the media, all his focus, all his attention fixed on you. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he spots you, but it’s the way he’s standing, waiting, that hits you. Like he said he would.

You hesitate for a moment, thinking about your mother’s words, about everything that has always been said about Max—his arrogance, his rivalry, the fact that he’s always been competition. But this, here, this feels like something different. He’s not the enemy anymore. At least, not in the way they used to think of each other.

You take a breath, and then, almost instinctively, you walk toward him. As you step closer, you hear the whisper of her mother’s voice in the back of your mind, a warning you’ve heard so many times before. Stay focused. Don’t let him distract you. He’s your competition, not your friend.

But your steps don’t falter. You reach him, and when you do, you look up at him, your gaze soft, not the hardened competitive stare it once was. Max’s grin deepens, though it’s filled with something almost bittersweet.

“I heard you were waiting for me,” You said, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your voice is steady, but there’s a touch of vulnerability in it, something you can’t quite mask.

Max’s eyes soften, and for a moment, it feels like time pauses. He looks at you as if he’s not seeing the driver, the fierce competitor, but the girl he used to know—the one he used to race against in karting, the one who once shared the same dream, the one who still, in some ways, understands him better than anyone else.

“I told you I would,” he replies quietly, his voice low and calm. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Your mind flashes back to the words he said to your mother, the promise he made—I’ll always be waiting.

“You won. Congratulations.”

Max’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a certain warmth in the way he looks at you, a quiet understanding that goes beyond just racing. He takes a step closer, his voice a little softer now. “You’re better than you think. I have a feeling you’ll take it away from me next year.”

You shake your head, but there’s no bitterness in your gesture. “Next year,” you repeat. Your fingers press the edge of your helmet tighter, almost like you’re grounding herself in this moment. But there’s something else too—a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Maybe. But I’m just glad you’re here.”

Max’s smile is genuine now. “I’ll always be here. Waiting for you to finally beat me.”

You laugh—a real laugh this time, one that’s not forced. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day,” you say, your voice a little lighter. “You should go with your team, I’m sure they’re waiting to drown you in champagne.”

Max chuckles, then steps forward. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, standing in the midst of the chaos, everything else fading into the background. You breathe in, realizing just how much this—this moment—matters more than the championship itself.

“So, Max, you’ve just won the title, but there’s a lot of talk about your competitor. She’s been called ‘too emotional’ in the past by some. What’s your take on how she handled this title fight?”

Max turns towards the reporter, a protective energy surging in him. He absolutely hated doing interviews, all he wanted to do was get back to you. “Well, for one, I think anyone who says she’s ‘too emotional’ is clearly not paying attention. She’s one of the most focused drivers out there. Honestly, anyone who thinks you can compete in this sport at the level we’ve been at, especially in the last few races, without being deeply passionate—well, they don’t understand what it takes.” He glances over at you, who’s trying to hide a smile while also looking frustrated with the question.

While you were a few feet away from him doing your own interview, you could hear Max. You tried hard to listen to the interview questions, but all you wanted to do was listen to what Max had to say.

“isn’t it a bit too much? The way she gets in her own head. She’s been—well, let’s just say, a bit of a perfectionist this season.”

Max shook his head, chuckling at the reporters words. “But, you know, that’s exactly why she’ll be winning a championship someday soon. I have no doubt about it, but I’m excited for the day she takes my championship away.”

Max could hear you burst into laughter at his words. His smile grew ten times bigger. “Seriously, though, she’s one of the most talented drivers I’ve ever known. she’ll steal the show when you least expect it. And maybe she’s a little bit hard to understand at times, but that’s exactly what makes her great.”

The reporter nodded. “Are you saying she’s like, uh, the Billy Joel song?” He asked confused.

Max grinned, clearly amused by the confusion. “She’s always a woman to me. Maybe I’m not the best person to explain it, but you get the idea.”

You chuckled once again as you heard Max. He really had a way with words.

“And one day, I’ll be watching her take the title with the same respect I have for her right now.”

That’s when you decide to step in after finishing your interview. “Maybe, Max. But for now, I think I'll let you have your moment. You’ve earned it.”

“We both did. I owe it all to you.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv33 #mv1 fic

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charlotteking23 · 1 month ago

Text

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: Y/n has been secretly dating the formula 1 driver Max Verstappen but unfortunately their relationship is revealed by...a live stream.

You watched on the large screen, seeing your boyfriend dominate the track at the sport he loved.

You watched eagerly with your hands curling tightly at the material of your couch, not blinking afraid you would miss something.

sitting beside you were your clingy cats laying on your lap hoping to turn your attention from the screen to them.

As the minutes went by so was the race coming to an end, on the final lap was a battle between the Mclaren and Redbull. Both were neck to neck either one could win but in the end was current world champion who made it across the finish line first.

You jumped up in celebration, clapping your hands seeing your boyfriend with a look of pride.

You turned back to your cats only to be met by one of the stinkiest side eyes you have ever gotten. Sassy and Jimmy only hissed at you for a second before continuing to lay down on you.

You waited eagerly for your phone to ring hoping it was Max. And in no time their he was facetiming you in all he sweaty glory.

"I am so proud of you, baby", You spoke softly.

"I hope you were watching, Liefje", He said with a grin but he knew you always watched his race no matter the circumstances.

You blushed bashfully trying to hide your tomato face hearing his teasing laughter.

"I wish you ere here, Liefje", Max said changing the topic back to reality.

"You know I want to be there but I can't", You softly said. You want to be there truly to support Max at the sport he loves but you can't.

"I know, I'II call you later Okay", Max smiled trying to ease your worries.

"Okay", You softly said before hanging up the call turning your phone away from you in sadness.

You were a shy person who always kept towards themselves but after you met Max your life took a drastic turn to luxury. But your soft-spoken nature never change.

You were so afraid of what his fans might think of you, you decided to keep your relationship a secret. That was a year ago, Max has been supported about your decision but you could see the look on his face.

You could see how jealous he was seeing the other f1 drivers celebrating and being in love with their girlfriends and wives iin public while he can't.

You hate yourself seeing Max upset like that and you wish you get over you fear but it's just so hard...

You knew Max was going to come back tomorrow, and it was the perfect time to talk about your relationship.

As you went to sleep, you couldn't help but miss Max so much, It was these times that you wished you could go with him and be by his side.

As you woke up, you look terrible upon looking at the mirror seeing huge eye bags and your disheveled hair in disgust.

Taking a nice warm shower before getting ready for the day, putting on cute matching white outfits. As you walked towards the kitchen you saw Max..

You ran towards pulling him to a bone crushing hug.

"Hey Liefje, I missed you too", Max chuckled before embracing you equally as much before hearing the cats meow for more food.

"And I see the cats have missed you just as much", You said softly before scratching both of your cats behind the ear hearing them purr in pleasure.

"when did you get here", You said standing back up.

"While you were in the shower, you know I couldn't stay away for that long", Max smirk before putting little kisses all over your face.

"speaking of which, Max I want to talk to you", You spoke softly but no matter Max saw how serious you were.

You led him to the couch where you could both sit, Max sat next to you holding your hands in worry.

"What's wrong", Max frowned. His eyebrows creased on his forehead no matter how many times you told him not to do that.

As you took a deep breath, "I feel like...", but before you could continue Max stood up hastily interrupting you.

"No, I refused to break up, I love you so much. I see my future with you, please don't give up on us", Max desperately said before going on his knees to you.

"Max that was so sweet but that was not what I was going to say and I don't ever want to break up with you", You gently pulled his hands so he could sit next to you again.

"Baby, I want to make our relationship public, I think it's time-", before you finish your sentence Max stood up for the second time dancing in celebration.

"Huh, oh um are you sure Liefje", Max spoke out with his fake tone of worry. You nodded your head not even a second later seeing your boyfriend again danced in happiness.

You smiled seeing your boyfriend so happy, "So that means at the next race you will come with me", Max grinned ear to ear seeing you nod again.

Max was still riding high from your spectacle news, a smile plaster on his face for days. Some of the other drivers were even creeped out from Max constant smiles.

"Hmm Liefje, I gonna go stream with some of the guys", Max called out to you from the other room.

"Okay", you said softly before continuing the show you were watching.

You didn't know how the time got away from you that fast it was already 7:20 pm. And you were starving, too tired to cook you decided to ask what Max wanted to order out from.

You opened the door a little just enough to peak your head through. You signal Max waiting for him to see.

"Huh, okay guys I think that's enough live streaming for today. I will see you guys later", He smiled out before turning it off.

"Hey Liefje, don't worry the live stream is done", Max said standing up and waving you over.

You happily came over before wrapping your arms around Max pecking his lips softly.

"what do you want for dinner?, I'm thinking order in", you said softly brushing some of max hair away from his face to see his gorgeous blue eyes.

"What ever you want, Liefje", Max smiled swaying you gently.

"hmm what ab-", Before you could finish the red dot on the computer catch your eyes. "What does that red dot mean?".

Max quickly turned his head towards your direction before quickly scrambling to turn it off properly. After turning it off he sighed out in disapointment.

"Liefje, I am so sorry I didn't turn it off properly. I never meant our secret to come out like this", Max quietly said mumbling out incoherent sorry's, looking down in shame.

"It's okay, baby. We'll figure it out", you said gently rubbing his back trying to calm him down.

You and Max both turned off your phone, avoiding Max pr manager and all of social media not ready to face it yet.

"Don't worry this weekend is the race, we'll clear everything then right now let's not think about it", You gently spoke out trying to have Max understand it was not his fault and it was a simple accident. You could tell by his eyes and face how guilty he feels.

"Yeah..Okay", Max mumbles out.

Seeing Max go to sleep makes my heart burn for him..I hope everything goes well this weekend.

Liked by Username1, Redbullfan, and 304K others

F1gossip: rumors spiral around the paddock as we see a new WAG insight. It's a mystery who she is but It might be the same girl who Max accidentally revealed in the live stream. What do you think?

View all 2,427 comments

Username5: I can’t believe Max has a girlfriend

Redbullprincess: How do we even know it’s true?

Username7: Fr it could be like someone in his family or something

Maxiefan2: AWW their so cute

DuDuDuDu: I wish we knew who this girl was

Landonorris: What, WHAT! how could he not tell me

danielriccardo: HAHA, even I knew Username34: Daniel tell us what you know

Username98: She's not even pretty

Username20: Girl, just say your jealous

Liked by Maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, and 864K others

yourusername: I might be a Max Versappen fan but I am a Ferrari fan through and through 😉

View all 5,146 comments

maxverstappen1: betrayed by my own girlfriend

Yourusername: 🙄 I said what I said

Username23: OMG, its Max mystery girlfriend

alexandrasaintmleux: can't wait to see you again 🩵

Maxiefan4: Our pinterest girl

charles_leclerc: Everyone is a ferrari fan

yourusername: Omg brain freeze, huge fan maxverstappen1: Oh lord, this can't be happening charles_leclerc: Stay jealous Verstappen

Username45: Gorgeous, stunning, a princess

Username67: UM, not Max fighting with Charles

maxverstappen1: not my fault,he's trying to steal my girlfriend yourusername: Such a baby Username67: Didn't expect him to actually reply.

Maleguyusername: Your pretty

maxverstappen1: Hey back off, she's mine yourusername: What are you, a dog that needs to pee on their territiory 🐺 maxverstappen1: Acually I am a lion landonorris: CRINGE

Liked by DanielRiccardo, Redbull, and 3.5M others

maxverstappen1: Making this clear, my girlfriend is NOT a Ferrari fan and as you can see, she is wearing loud and proud redbull merch. So @charles_leclerc you suck. 🙂‍↕️

View all 8,387 comments

yourusername: When have I ever said that

maxverstappen1: you didn't have too charles_leclerc: You broke my heart Y/n maxverstappen1: Yeah get over it

alexandrasaintmleux: I want to do a double date but I am scared how are these two children gonna act.

yourusername: who said they're coming, it's me, you and Leo charles_leclerc: really, taking my own son yourusername: he likes me better anyway🤷

Princessusername47: WOW, max is so petty, he even tagged charles

landonorris: thank godness it wasn't me Username47: Lando norris just responded back to me I could faint.

danielriccardo: How come I don't ever get an appreciation post!!

maxverstappen1: that's because you're not my girlfriend danielriccardo: EXSQUEEZE ME, um did our relationship mean anything to you yourusername: @danielriccardo get in line

RedbullUser53: I can't wait till they get married

Username870: Stop, best couple

redbullracing: Y/N, if I see you one more time in Ferrari gear, you can say bye bye to those vip passes to your favorite concert for your birthday

yourusername: did I say I was a Ferrari fan you must be mistaken, Always a redbull fan hehe. 😇 maxverstappen1: Liessssss🐍 yourusername: shut up, or you'll be sleeping on the couch 😙

Masterlist🩷

1K notes · View notes

formula1au · 5 months ago

Text

lando norris x gf!reader social media au

summary: your social media while dating lando

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harianaswhore · 29 days ago

Text

⟡ ₘₐₓ ᵥₑᵣₛₜₐₚₚₑₙ ⟡

NONE OF THESE ARE WRITTEN BY ME

ᵐʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉᶜˢ ᶠ¹ ʳᵉᶜˢ

— ᶠᴸᵁᶠᶠ ⟡

heaven is a place on earth with you - @lumi-nescentt

private professor - @sinofwriting

bow (^)

made for each other (^)

even kiss begins with tabs (^)

raised to love (tw: some dark themes & jos verstappen) (^)

mornings with max - @verstappen-cult

max is the type of guy to... (^)

protective (^)

5 times max refuses to acknowledge he’s sick + 1 time he does (^)

reuniting (^)

pining and yearning - @theemporium

getting spoiled (^)

i pay attention (^)

getting jealous over him (^)

gift giving (^)

distractions - @starlost97

showering max with compliments - @lovings4turn

love at midnight - @unformula1

morning kisses - @adventuringblind

he must be lucky! (^)

matchmaker pets - @the-flaneur

at least for the pictures - @love44lew

cuddle bug - @chrisevansonly

beach read - @monzabee

"i might have had a few shots" - @forzalando

anyone can cook (^)

the ways in which max shows you he loves you - @thatsdemko

— ᴬᴺᴳˢᵀ⟡

go ahead and smile - @foreveralbon

trust me - @postracehair

a fool's flowers - @leclucklerc

drunk walk home - @everythingne

a second chance - @charlesslut16

navy fury (tw: jos verstappen) - @delulujuls

love me harder - @ynsbarbbb

protective max (tw: jos verstappen) - @formulaa-1

— ˢᴹᵁᵀ⟡

big 'ole freak - @mariahcarreyyy

can't you see - @cherry-leclerc

flustered tweets (suggestive) - @charles-leclerizz

sultry vindications (^)

needy - @bunnys-kisses

"who's my pretty girl?" (^)

with the red dress on - @aliwritex

thighs (suggestive) - @vivwritesfics

handcuffs (^)

neck kisses (VERY suggestive) - @verstappen-cult

— ˢᴼᶜᴵᴬᴸ ᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬ ⟡

smitten - @chrisevansonly

finish line - @norris55s

we're on each other's team (^)

do-over - @maplesyrupsainz

just screeching tires & true love (!!!!!!mentions of SA!!!!!!!) (^)

children of divorce - @landonfour

bejeweled - @poetsblvd

thighs don't lie - @thepersonnamedsam

can i call you rose? - @f1version

broken - @onlyangel4

potion (^)

horner!reader - @pucksandpower

ramsay!reader (^)

hamilton!reader (^)

love story - @verstappen-cult

slay intensifies - @vivwritesfics

princess treatment - @natailiatulls07

paint him red ! - @agendabymooner

full of fan behavior - @covenists

new desire - @formulafics

paint me in lovely red - @bth3cowboi

your honor, he's a simp - @httpsserene

— ˢᴱᴿᴵᴱˢ ⟡

pre-gala the real prize jealousy panties captivity rocky escaping thighs consquences a mile high new beginnings (each part has sexual content) - @dilemmaontwolegs

when i speak, he listens so i'm the villan no point in fixing it winners always win they'll never shut up - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

mouse (^)

hard launch appendix touch - @archiverstappen

one two three (smau) (harry and f1 in one fic is everything) - @alonetimelover

max & the three musketeers (smau) (this is so funny i was hollering) - @verstarppen

strawberry wine - @scuderiahoney

little leclerc gets married to max (smau) - @theemporium

please, oh please two - @sinofwriting

he had it coming (smau) - @youreverydayfangirl

654 notes · View notes

piastappies · 13 days ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝜗𝜚

⋆ pairing. max verstappen x streamer!reader

⋆ summary. max wants to surprise you. little does he know, he just hard launched his relationship!

⋆ notes. a bit suggestive for a second lol, you’re responsible for the content u consume. not proofread 😝

YOU WERE BUNDLED UP IN A FLUFFY BLANKET that max got you on your first christmas together. it was a lazy evening, you weren’t even supposed to be streaming — you just wanted to play some games of valorant, though playing without talking to the people in your twitch chat, so… as you started the game, you also started a stream. your phone was charging in the other room, making discord the only way to communicate with you.

max didn’t know that — he was coming back from a few days up in milton keynes. you were still living separately, but you had keys to one another’s apartment as he rarely ever spent time without you during the breaks from racing. he didn’t think to text or call you, nor to check if you were streaming, it just kind of slipped his mind as you rarely streamed not in schedule. he was happy to be back, he missed you over the few days as you barely talked due to your merch launching soon and his workload at milton.

“thank you so much for the sub, oh my gosh!” you giggled, a smile creeping up on your face as you read the message from the viewer that just subscribed to your channel. you tried to read every donation, every sub so your viewers would feel included in the stream as much as possible.

it wasn’t always easy, especially when you streamed with a few of your friends that were a bit more famous, like max fewtrell, who you met through lando (who you met through your boyfriend). the donations, bits, and subscriptions would go crazy, but you loved the friends you made along the way, starting as a small streamer, casually playing valorant (or stardew valley on lazier days).

“guys, i can’t with this you die you drink a shot thing.” you laughed softly, running a hand down your face, your cheeks blushed due to the alcohol in your system. the chat was spammed with jokes and clips of your drunken self, but you didn’t really mind. drunk streams weren’t a common occurrence.

you started another game, as the last one was finished with — surprisingly — a win for your team. you squinted your eyes, pulling yourself on the chair closer to the screen, jokingly saying that it was a now-or-never game, after having fixed the position of your glasses on the bridge of your nose and locking in a character.

the soft tunes of a non-copyrighted song was playing in your headset as the game began, making you unable to hear the jiggling of keys as someone opened the front door to your house. it would’ve startled you if you heard it, especially in that state, but you didn’t, so when max came inside, no one could tell him that you were streaming and not just playing a game.

he’s grown accustomed to your silly antics, the screams, the rage, the laughter, and the stuff you were saying over the voice chat. he’s had your schedule memorised, he knew you weren’t supposed to stream tonight, so… he asumed you were either talking to yourself or just played a game.

dropping his carry-on bags in the living room, he moved to the kitchen to prepare something to eat, before surprising you with his presence. with all the information he’s had, the plan of a nice evening seemed flawless, he would make you something to eat, watch you play for a few minutes before giving you the best head of your life, it wasn’t really a point in his plan, but he wished it happen. his favorite place in the world was wherever, as long as his face was in between your legs.

he barged into your streaming room, thinking you were just playing a game. he went up to your setup, dropping his head to press a kiss to the crown of your head, freezing in one place as his eyes fell on one of the screen, seeing as your chat started going at an unholy speed.

fuck. “you’re streaming?” he asked, his voice quieter, so your mic wouldn’t pick up on him — it did, though. “you’re back?” you asked at the same time. the chat not quite understanding what has just happened, what was max verstappen doing in your room?

your thoughts, however, couldn’t be stopped from slipping from between your lips. “did you just hard launch us?” you said, slapping your hand over your mouth, causing max to chuckle a bit.

“i think you just did.” the dutch man grinned, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, his hand gently rubbing your arm as you pretended to not notice the shock on your second screen. you and max were supposed to publicise your relationship sooner or later, so you could easily support him during races.

you tipped your chin upwards to look at your boyfriend, your expression softening as soon as you noticed the hint of giddiness on his face. “ah, fuck it. mina, could you change the stream title to drinking with The Man, capital t and m? thank youu.” you grinned at the camera, standing up from your chair, signaling max to sit down before you comfortably sat down on his lap.

“is he staying?” verstappen read out loud, wrapping his arms around your middle. “well, i have no way to go anyway, so i might as well stay.” he answered the question with a silly smile, leaning against the back of the chair, his hand slinding beneath your shirt.

“of course he’s staying! none of y’all can keep him. he’s mine.” you spoke into the mic, a frown appeared on your face as max laughed at your reaction. “what? you are mine. i’m not letting you leave.” you said in the most matter-of-fact tone.

“don’t worry, i don’t even wanna leave.” he pushed your headset away from your ear, whispering. his nose gently nudging your temple. “good. i wouldn’t let you out, anyways.” you shrugged your shoulders, starting another game, while still sitting on max’s lap, your back pressed against his chest as he talked to the chat, pretending to be unaware of the chaos ensued on twitter.

max verstappen might be a multiple times champion, but right now, all he was — all he wanted to be was your boyfriend. that would be sufficient for him, he wouldn’t be upset if this was his life as long as it would include you. points in the championships didn’t matter, winning the title(s) felt nice, but it didn’t matter either, having a seat or being millionaires would never matter if you weren’t by his side.

the stream ended an hour later, when you got a bit too cozy on max’s lap, so he had to end the stream himself, before he ended, he thanked for a good time and said something along the lines of see you guys pretty soon.

“we should get you on sim.” the dutch man joked as you nestled your head in the crook of his neck.

“ah, fuck you.”

837 notes · View notes

theonottsbxtch · 3 days ago

Text

DONT WANNA BE SAVED | MV1

an: mafia!max i DO want to be saved, please do not mix me up with the main character she's just a bit silly. also single dad!max hmu, yeah? i hope you're aware of how much googling i had to do this for request because i know NOTHING about dressage.

wc: 6.2k

The rhythmic crunch of gravel under the tyres was the only sound that cut through the quiet tension in the air. Max Verstappen drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his sharp jaw clenched. He wasn’t used to venturing into parts of town that didn’t know his name, but for his little girl, he’d do anything—even if it meant swallowing his pride and knocking on the door of a horse trainer who clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

The GPS barked at him, announcing the final turn. Max squinted through the windscreen at the small, unassuming ranch sprawled out in the middle of nowhere. The place looked sturdy but unpolished, a far cry from the grand estates he usually associated with trainers who were supposedly “the best.” He cut the engine and stepped out, the crisp bite of the afternoon wind tugging at the tailored lapels of his suit.

The barn doors creaked open, and she emerged.

She was nothing like he expected. For someone with a reputation of being the finest dressage instructor on this side of the country, she didn’t look the part. Her hair was loosely tied back, strands falling into her face as she adjusted the cuff of her sleeve. Her boots were scuffed, her hands calloused, and there was a streak of dirt smeared across her cheek. Yet, the confidence in the way she moved was unmistakable—deliberate, purposeful, like she could size him up in a heartbeat and decide exactly how much of her time he deserved.

Max straightened as she approached, his usual commanding air faltering under her cool, appraising gaze. “Mr Verstappen?” she asked, voice calm and low, though there was a slight arch to her brow as she clocked his expensive suit against the rustic backdrop.

“That’s right,” he replied, recovering quickly. “I called about my daughter, Stella.”

“I remember.” Her tone was unreadable as she wiped her hands on her jeans and extended one to him. He hesitated a second too long before shaking it. Firm grip. No nonsense.

“She’s serious about competing,” Max continued, trying to soften the edge in his voice. “I’ve been told you’re the best, and I don’t settle for less when it comes to her.”

The corner of her mouth twitched, almost like a smile, but not quite. “Dressage isn’t about settling or not settling,” she said. “It’s about discipline, patience, and trust. None of which can be bought.”

Max’s jaw ticked at the subtle dig, but he didn’t rise to it. He was here for Stella, not to flex his ego. “You’ll have all the resources you need,” he said instead. “Money isn’t an issue.”

Her eyes flicked to him, sharp as a blade. “Good. Because if your daughter’s going to train with me, I’m going to need more than that.” She turned abruptly, gesturing for him to follow her towards the barn. “I’ll meet Stella, and we’ll go from there. But just so we’re clear—I don’t babysit, and I don’t do miracles.”

Max trailed behind her, a slow smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. She was bold, he’d give her that. Most people were too afraid to speak to him like that. Maybe she really was the best.

His shoes crunched against the gravel as he followed her into the barn. The earthy scent of hay and leather mingled with the faint sweetness of horses, instantly grounding the space. Inside, sunlight filtered through the high windows, casting golden streaks across the straw-scattered floor. A bay mare in one of the stables tossed her head, her ears twitching at the sound of their footsteps.

She leaned against the edge of the stall, absently running her fingers along the edge of the wood. “How old is Stella?” she asked, her voice carrying the clipped efficiency of someone who didn’t waste time on niceties.

“Nine,” Max said, stepping closer. “She’s ridden before, but it’s always been a hobby. Now, she’s ready to take it seriously.”

“Is she?” she asked, glancing at him.

Max frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, is she ready? Or are you?” She crossed her arms, leaning her weight casually against the stable door.

His nostrils flared, but he bit back his instinctive retort. People didn’t question him—not in his world. But this was different. For Stella, he’d let his temper take a back seat. “Stella’s the one who asked. She’s determined, and I support her in whatever she wants.”

For the first time, her expression softened, just slightly. “Good. A lot of parents want this more than the kids. It shows in the way they push them, and that pressure never works. Horses aren’t machines. They pick up on that tension, and it ruins the trust.”

He nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure he liked being lectured. “Trust, discipline, patience,” he said, his voice taking on a dry edge. “I got it.”

Her lips twitched again, and this time he was certain it was a smile, however faint. “You don’t strike me as the patient type.”

Max chuckled, low and sharp. “You’d be surprised. I know when to wait. I also know when to act.”

Something flickered in her gaze at that, but she didn’t let it linger. Instead, she straightened and pushed open the stable door, letting the mare step out. The horse was sleek and graceful, her muscles shifting smoothly under her polished coat.

“This is Luna,” she said, patting the mare’s neck. “She’s my best. If Stella wants to learn, she’ll start with her.”

“Stella doesn’t have her own horse yet,” Max admitted, studying the animal.

“Good. That makes it easier. Luna’s a good judge of character. If Stella’s nervous, Luna will know. And if Luna doesn’t trust her...” She shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.

Max raised an eyebrow. “What happens then?”

“She doesn’t ride,” she said simply.

He appreciated her bluntness, even if it grated at him. She wasn’t someone he could charm or intimidate, and oddly, that made him more intrigued.

As if sensing his thoughts, she brushed past him, leading Luna to a bridle rack. “Bring Stella by tomorrow. I’ll see what we’re working with.”

“And what about you?” Max asked, his voice dropping slightly, almost testing.

She turned, brow furrowing. “What about me?”

“You seem to have high expectations,” he said. “If Stella’s the one being judged, does that mean you’ve already made up your mind about me?”

Her gaze lingered on him, steady and unflinching. “You’re not the one I’m here to teach, Mr Verstappen. But if you’re asking...” She paused, her lips curving into the faintest smirk. “I’ve met plenty of men like you. You don’t scare me.”

Max tilted his head, his mouth pulling into a slow, deliberate grin. “Plenty of men like me? Somehow, I doubt that.”

The month following his first meeting with her passed in a blur of early mornings, long afternoons, and the kind of quiet determination that Max had to admit impressed him. Stella had taken to the training better than he could have hoped, and her instructor—well, she’d more than lived up to her reputation.

She was tough but fair, demanding excellence without suffocating his daughter’s enthusiasm. Max had watched every session from the sidelines, arms crossed, keeping a respectful distance but always observing. And more than once, he found his attention drifting—not to Stella, but to her instructor.

There was something about her. A kind of grit that didn’t falter, even when she was teaching patience to a headstrong nine-year-old. Her quiet confidence didn’t demand attention; it commanded it. Max had seen plenty of people fake authority, but she wore it like second skin.

He liked that.

What he hadn’t expected, however, was to see her a month later, in a completely different world.

The pounding bass hit him first, reverberating through his chest as he pushed through the crowd. The club was dimly lit, alive with movement—people dancing, drinks clinking, laughter rising over the music. It wasn’t his usual scene, but a meeting had brought him here, one of those backroom negotiations that needed the anonymity of chaos.

He’d wrapped up the deal without trouble, but as he made his way back to the main floor, something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

There she was, behind the bar.

Her hair was down, loose waves brushing her shoulders, and she wasn’t in scuffed boots or faded jeans anymore. Instead, she wore a fitted black top and a skater skirt, a thin chain glinting at her neck under the neon lights. She moved with an easy rhythm, pouring drinks and flashing quick smiles to the patrons leaning against the bar.

For a moment, Max thought he’d imagined it. But then she turned slightly, catching his profile out of the corner of her eye, and froze.

Her eyes widened for just a second—barely noticeable—but enough for him to catch it. She recovered quickly, though, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow as if to say, What are you doing here?

Max didn’t answer her unspoken question. Instead, he made his way to the bar, sliding between two drunken men slouched over their cocktails. He rested his elbows on the polished surface, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

“Mr Verstappen,” she said finally, leaning forward slightly. Her voice was calm, but there was a flicker of something else in her expression—annoyance, maybe, or surprise. “Didn’t think this was your kind of place.”

“It’s not,” he admitted, letting his eyes roam the bottles behind her before settling back on her face. “But it seems I’m full of surprises tonight.”

She snorted softly, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. She placed it in front of him, her smirk sharp. “You look like you need this more than a whiskey.”

Max chuckled, low and rough. “Not here for a drink. Just curious.” He tilted his head, studying her. “Didn’t peg you for the nightlife type.”

“Didn’t think you were paying that much attention,” she shot back, wiping her hands on a bar towel.

“More than you realise,” Max murmured. He wasn’t sure if she caught the softness in his tone over the thumping music, but her eyes narrowed slightly, her posture stiffening.

“I could say the same about you,” she replied, shifting her weight. “What’s the boss of half the city doing in a place like this?”

“Business,” he said simply, straightening. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

She leaned closer, resting her hands on the bar. “You’re full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”

“Just one.” His voice dipped, his gaze unwavering. “Why are you here?”

She rolled her eyes, breaking the tension with a dry laugh. “It’s called having bills to pay, Verstappen. Not all of us have cash to burn. This keeps the lights on when teaching doesn’t.”

Max didn’t miss the edge to her words, and he wondered, not for the first time, just how much she kept buried beneath that sharp exterior. She didn’t need saving—that much was obvious—but the thought of her working this job, with the late hours and the leering patrons, stirred something primal in him.

“How long have you been doing this?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“Long enough,” she said, shrugging. “And I’m good at it. Don’t look so shocked.”

“I’m not shocked.” He paused, letting the moment hang between them. “But I’m not exactly thrilled, either.”

Her expression hardened slightly, and she straightened, putting more distance between them. “Don’t start with that ‘I know what’s best’ routine. I get enough of that already.”

Max raised his hands, palms out in mock surrender. “No routine. Just... noticing things.”

“Noticed enough, then?” she asked, turning away to serve another customer.

For the first time in a long time, Max found himself on uneven ground. He wasn’t sure if he was impressed, frustrated, or just intrigued. But one thing was certain: she had a way of staying in his head, and it was starting to feel less like an annoyance and more like an inevitability.

As she moved down the bar, he lingered, watching her work. No, she didn’t need saving. But the urge to shield her from this world, to pull her away from the late nights and the reckless strangers, was already starting to claw its way to the surface.

And Max Verstappen wasn’t the kind of man to ignore an instinct like that.

For weeks after the encounter at the club, Max couldn’t shake the image of her behind the bar. It wasn’t just the stark contrast to her usual self—confident, commanding, utterly at home in the arena—but the way it gnawed at something deep inside him.

She didn’t belong in that place, surrounded by cheap cologne and drunken hands reaching for more than drinks. The thought of her dealing with that night after night twisted in his gut like a blade.

It wasn’t just about Stella anymore. He’d grown to respect her over the past month—the way she pushed his daughter without breaking her spirit, the way she handled herself with a quiet strength that most people in his world didn’t have.

That respect, though, was starting to blur into something more. And Max wasn’t sure what to do with that.

He finally brought it up on a crisp Friday morning, just after Stella’s session. The three of them stood by the paddock, Luna grazing lazily a few feet away. Stella was laughing at something, her cheeks flushed from the chill and the effort she’d put into the lesson. Max felt a swell of pride watching her, but his gaze kept drifting back to her instructor.

When Stella wandered off to grab a snack from the car, he seized the moment.

“You’ve been doing good work with her,” he began, his voice low and steady.

She gave him a side glance, adjusting the bridle she was holding. “Thanks.”

“You know,” he continued, his tone carefully casual, “I’ve been thinking about your rate.”

Her hands froze for a split second before she turned to face him fully. “My rate?”

He nodded. “You’re worth more than what I’m paying you. A lot more. I’d like to fix that.”

Her eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring immediately. “Fix it, huh?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You’re not charging enough for the kind of work you do. I’m doubling it.”

She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “And what’s this really about, Max? Feeling generous all of a sudden?”

“It’s not generosity,” he said, his jaw tightening. “It’s fairness.”

Her laugh was sharp, almost bitter. “Fairness. Right. Is that what you call pity now?”

His brows shot up. “Pity? You think I pity you?”

“What else am I supposed to think? You see me working a second job and suddenly decide to play knight in shining armour?” She shook her head, a hard edge to her voice. “Keep your money, Verstappen. I don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity!” His voice rose slightly, and she blinked at the rare flash of frustration. He took a breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Is it a sin,” he said, his voice quieter now, “that I want to make sure you’ve got a roof over your head?”

She stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighed and leaned against the paddock fence. “You’ve got a hell of a way of showing it,” she muttered.

“What do you want from me?” Max asked, spreading his hands. “You work yourself to the bone here, and then you go to that—” He stopped himself, his voice tight. “That place. And you think I’m just supposed to ignore it? Pretend I don’t care?”

Her lips quirked into a smirk, though there was little humour in it. “Careful, Max. You’re starting to sound like a softie.”

He barked a laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’re raising a nine-year-old daughter on your own. And her closest friends are her unofficial uncles in the mafia.”

Her brows shot up, and for a moment, her lips twitched like she was fighting the urge to laugh. “That right?”

“That’s right,” he said, his tone lighter now, but his eyes still serious. “And maybe I don’t want to see someone else I—” He stopped, catching himself before he said too much. “Someone I respect running herself ragged.”

She studied him, her gaze softer now, but still guarded. “Max, I’m fine. Really. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, and I don’t need anyone swooping in to do it for me.”

“I know you don’t need it,” he said quietly. “But maybe I need to do it anyway.”

The honesty in his voice left her momentarily speechless. She glanced away, focusing on the horizon. “You’re impossible,” she muttered.

“Maybe,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But I don’t give up easily. Ask Stella.”

“Trust me, I’ve noticed,” she said, shaking her head. “Fine. If you’re so desperate to throw your money around, I’ll let you pay me more. But only because you’ll keep bugging me if I don’t.”

“That’s probably true,” he said with a shrug.

“But,” she added, pointing a finger at him, “if you start thinking this means I owe you something, I will kick you off this property.”

Max grinned, the tension between them easing slightly. “Noted.”

For now, it was enough. But as she walked away, her shoulders straight and her head held high, Max couldn’t help but think that his concern for her was starting to go beyond what he could justify as simple admiration.

And that thought both thrilled and terrified him.

He wasn’t sure when exactly it started happening—the subtle shift from guarded respect to something warmer, more playful. At first, he’d chalked it up to her stubborn streak. She never missed an opportunity to challenge him, whether it was a pointed remark about his suit and tie being out of place at the barn or her light jabs at his overprotective tendencies.

But as the weeks went on, those jabs started to feel less like walls and more like invitations.

It began innocently enough. One morning, Max showed up to Stella’s session with two coffees in hand—one black, the way he liked it, and one sweet and milky, based on an educated guess.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to her as she adjusted a saddle.

She glanced at the cup and then back at him, one eyebrow raised. “What’s this?”

“Coffee,” he replied dryly.

Her lips twitched. “I can see that. What I mean is, why are you giving it to me?”

“Because it’s cold, and I’m not completely heartless,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She took the cup, sniffed it cautiously, then sipped. Her eyes lit up for a brief second before narrowing. “Let me guess—someone else made this choice for you, didn’t they? No way you guessed right on your own.”

He grinned. “You caught me. Stella might have mentioned you have a sweet tooth.”

“Mm-hmm.” She set the cup on a nearby ledge, her expression neutral. “Thanks, Verstappen. I’ll try not to read too much into it.”

“You do that,” he said, but his smirk lingered for the rest of the morning.

It was then a Wednesday afternoon, and Max had just arrived at the barn when he caught her pulling a boot from a deep puddle of mud.

“You look like you’re having fun,” he said, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed.

She shot him a look, her nose scrunching. “Don’t start. This is your daughter’s fault, by the way. She decided Luna needed a little adventure off the trail.”

“She’s nine,” Max said, his tone mock-defensive. “You can’t hold her responsible for everything.”

She stomped her now-filthy boot back into place and gave him a pointed once-over. “No, but I can hold you responsible. You’re the one who raised her.”

Max laughed, loud and genuine, and it startled her for a second. She recovered quickly, shaking her head as she brushed past him. “You’re lucky I like Stella.”

“Lucky, huh?” he called after her. “I’ll take that as a win.”

The following week Max was standing at the edge of the paddock, watching Stella trot a clean figure-eight, when he felt her step up beside him.

“She’s getting better,” she said, her voice low and even.

“She’s got a good teacher,” Max replied, not looking away from the horse and rider.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her roll her eyes. “Flattery doesn’t work on me, Verstappen.”

“Wasn’t trying to flatter,” he said, turning to face her fully. “Just stating facts.”

She squinted at him, clearly suspicious. “You’re in a good mood today.”

“Maybe,” he said, his smirk returning. “Or maybe it’s just that you’re finally starting to warm up to me.”

She snorted. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” But her lips curved into a reluctant smile, and Max couldn’t help but feel like he’d scored a small victory.

By the fourth week, the playful banter had become a regular part of their routine. It was after Stella’s lesson, with the late afternoon sun casting golden light over the barn, that Max finally decided to push the boundary just a little further.

“So,” he said casually, leaning against the fence as she packed away the gear. “What do you do for fun? When you’re not working two jobs and pretending you don’t like my coffee.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Why do you care?”

“Call it curiosity,” he said, shrugging. “Or maybe I’m trying to figure out if you’re even capable of fun.”

She laughed, tossing a saddle pad into the tack room. “I’m plenty capable, thank you very much. I just don’t have a lot of time for it.”

“That’s a shame,” Max said, his voice dropping slightly. “Maybe you should make time.”

She paused, turning to face him fully. Her expression was wary, but there was a flicker of something else—something that made his pulse quicken. “And what would I do with all this hypothetical free time?”

“Well,” he said, stepping closer, his tone careful but deliberate, “you could start by letting me buy you dinner.”

Her eyes widened, just a fraction, before she masked her surprise with a smirk. “Dinner, huh? Is this another one of your attempts to ‘make sure I’ve got a roof over my head’?”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “No. This is me asking you to spend time with me. No strings, no pity money. Just dinner.”

She hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of the bridle she’d been holding. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said, his voice softening. “Unless, of course, you’re too scared.”

That did it. Her chin lifted, and her smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “Scared? Of you? Not likely.”

“Good,” Max said, his own smile widening. “How about Friday night?”

She tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Alright, Verstappen. You’ve got yourself a deal. But don’t think this means I’m going easy on Stella.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his chest lighter than it had been in weeks.

As she turned to finish her work, Max couldn’t help but feel like he’d just won the most important negotiation of his life.

Leading up to that Friday night, Max had been on edge all day, and he didn’t know why.

Everything had been going smoothly—Stella’s training, his business, even his tentative plans for dinner. But there was a gnawing unease in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t shake. He’d checked his phone more times than he cared to admit, waiting for a text from her confirming their meeting, but the screen stayed stubbornly blank.

By the time the sun started setting, his patience ran out. Max grabbed his keys and headed for his car, his gut screaming at him to go now.

When he pulled up outside her small cottage, the sight of her truck with its tailgate open and half-packed belongings hit him like a punch to the chest.

He stepped out of the car, his brows furrowing as he called out, “What’s going on?”

She looked up sharply, startled. For a split second, he saw something in her eyes—panic, maybe, or guilt—but she masked it quickly, busying herself with stuffing a duffel bag into the truck bed.

“Nothing,” she said, her voice tight. “Just... handling some stuff.”

Max crossed the distance between them in a few long strides, his tone sharp. “Don’t lie to me. What’s going on?”

“I’m not lying,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “It’s none of your business, Max.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” he shot back, grabbing the edge of the truck bed. “We had plans tonight, and now I find you packing up your life like you’re running from something. Talk to me.”

She let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair. “Look, it’s complicated, alright? I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“You might not,” Max said, his voice lowering, “but I’m not leaving until you give me one.”

For a moment, she stood there, glaring at him like she was debating whether to push him away or tell him to mind his own business. But then something in her resolve cracked.

“Fine,” she muttered. “You want to know? I screwed up when I was younger. Got mixed up with the wrong people—the Tifosi. And now they’ve decided it’s payback time.”

The name hit Max like a freight train. The Tifosi were no joke. Ruthless, calculating, and vindictive, they didn’t let debts slide, no matter how old.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice tight with a mixture of anger and concern.

“Because it’s not your problem,” she said, her tone sharp. “I don’t need you swooping in to play hero, Max. I’ve handled worse.”

“That’s not the point!” His voice rose, frustration bleeding into his words. “You should’ve told me. I could’ve—”

“Could’ve what?” she snapped, her eyes flashing. “Fixed it? Made it all go away? Newsflash, Verstappen: not everything is yours to control. I don’t need to be saved!”

Max’s jaw clenched as her words sank in. He took a step back, his hands gripping the edge of the truck bed so tightly his knuckles turned white. Then, without a word, he grabbed the duffel bag she’d just loaded and yanked it back out.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, her voice rising.

“You’re not running,” he said firmly, throwing the bag into the back of his car. “You’re coming with me.”

“The hell I am!” She stepped forward, trying to grab the bag, but Max blocked her, his voice like steel.

“Yes, you are. My daughter needs an instructor, and I’m not letting her down because of some silly little debt.”

Her mouth fell open in disbelief, anger flashing across her face. “Silly little debt? Are you out of your mind? You know who they are!”

“I do,” Max said, his tone calm but unyielding. “And I know how to deal with them.”

“You don’t understand—”

“I understand plenty,” he cut her off, stepping closer. “You think you’re the only one who’s had the Tifosi breathing down their neck? You think I don’t know what it’s like to owe them?”

Her eyes widened, her anger faltering for the first time.

“I’ve dealt with them before,” Max continued, his voice softer now but no less determined. “And I’m still standing. You don’t have to do this alone.”

She stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to process his words. Finally, she shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because,” he said, his gaze locking onto hers, “I don’t let people I care about get crushed by this life. And whether you like it or not, I care about you.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. Then she turned away, her shoulders tense. “Max, this is a mistake. You don’t need to get involved.”

“It’s not a mistake,” he said firmly. “And you’re coming with me, whether you like it or not. End of discussion.”

Before she could argue, he grabbed the rest of her bags, loading them into his car with a finality that left no room for debate.

She stood there, torn between fury and something she didn’t want to name, as Max closed the trunk and opened the passenger door.

“Get in,” he said, his voice steady but not unkind.

For a long moment, she didn’t move. Then, with a resigned sigh, she walked toward the car and slid into the passenger seat.

As Max got behind the wheel, he glanced at her, his expression softening just enough to show her he meant what he’d said.

“You’re not alone in this,” he murmured.

She didn’t respond, but the way her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly told him she’d heard him loud and clear.

The ride back to Max’s estate was silent, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of gravel under the tires. She sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the road ahead.

Max glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He wanted to say something, to fill the tense quiet with words that might reassure her, but he knew better. She wasn’t the type to be soothed by platitudes, and besides, she’d made it clear she didn’t want his help.

Too bad, he thought grimly. She was getting it whether she wanted it or not.

When they pulled into his driveway, the sprawling estate loomed in the moonlight, its imposing structure a sharp contrast to her modest cottage. Max stepped out of the car and rounded to the trunk without a word, hauling her bags out with practiced ease.

“Where’s the rest?” he asked as she stepped out of the car.

“The rest of what?” she said, her tone clipped.

“Your horses.”

She blinked, taken aback. “They’re still at the barn. I wasn’t planning on leaving them.”

Max pulled his phone from his pocket, already dialling. “They’ll be here by morning.”

“Wait—what?” she sputtered, her voice rising. “You can’t just—”

“Watch me,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He spoke briefly into the phone, his words curt and to the point. When he hung up, he turned back to her, his expression calm but firm. “They’ll be transported safely. You’ll have stalls for them here.”

She stared at him, her frustration clear. “You don’t get to make decisions for me, Max.”

He shrugged, hefting one of her bags onto his shoulder. “I just did.”

The house was quiet as they entered, the kind of silence that spoke of thick walls and careful security. Max led her through the spacious halls, his steps sure and unhurried despite the tension in the air.

He stopped at a door on the second floor and pushed it open, revealing a neatly furnished room with warm, neutral tones.

“This is yours,” he said, setting her bags down near the bed.

She glanced around, taking in the plush rug, the antique dresser, and the large window overlooking the grounds. “It’s... nice,” she admitted reluctantly.

“It’ll do,” he said with a faint smirk.

He gestured for her to follow him down the hall, stopping at another door. This time, he knocked lightly before opening it.

Stella’s room was a whirlwind of bright colours and cheerful chaos. Posters of horses adorned the walls, and the bed was covered in a tangle of blankets and stuffed animals.

Stella looked up from where she was brushing her hair, her face lighting up when she saw her instructor. “You’re here!” she exclaimed, bounding over. “Are you having a sleepover?!”

She laughed softly, some of the tension easing from her posture. “Something like that, kiddo.”

“This is so cool!” Stella said, practically vibrating with excitement. “Wait till I tell Uncle Oz—oh, can Uncle Ozzy meet you in the morning? She’ll be so happy!”

Max chuckled, ruffling Stella’s hair. “Alright, alright. You can tell Oscar in the morning. Let her rest she’s just got here. And if anything happens, you call Uncle Lan. Got it?”

Stella nodded solemnly, her big eyes darting between her father and her instructor. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Just for a bit,” Max said, his voice gentle.

She pouted but didn’t argue, which made Max’s heart twist a little. He glanced at her instructor, who was watching the exchange with a quiet intensity.

When they stepped back into the hallway, she turned to him, arms crossed. “Where are you going?”

“Business,” he said simply, heading toward the stairs.

She followed him, her tone sharp. “You mean the Tifosi.”

Max paused, turning to face her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held an edge of steel. “I said I’d handle it.”

Her jaw tightened. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” he said firmly. “They made it my business the second they came after you.”

She stared at him, her emotions warring between gratitude and frustration. Finally, she sighed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Max’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “I’ve been told.”

And with that, he was gone, his footsteps echoing down the grand staircase as she stood there, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and something she couldn’t quite name.

The clock read just past midnight as Max pulled into the driveway, the quiet rumble of his car breaking the stillness of the night. The meeting with the Tifosi had gone as expected—tense, with more threats than he cared to count—but he’d made his position clear. They wouldn’t touch her. Not if they wanted to keep breathing.

He stepped inside the house, letting out a breath as the familiar warmth of home washed over him. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he moved through the quiet halls. When he reached the living room, the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.

There they were: his daughter curled up on the sofa, her small frame nestled against the armrest, and next to her, her instructor. The TV flickered softly, showing clips of a younger, brighter version of the woman beside his daughter.

He stood there for a moment, watching as the faint strains of applause and commentary played from the screen. The sight of her expertly guiding a horse through intricate dressage routines stirred something in him. But it was the way she slept now, her head tilted back, her features softened in the glow of the TV, that made his chest ache.

Max stepped closer, careful not to wake them. Stella’s head rested against the woman’s arm, her little hand clutching a stuffed horse. Max smiled faintly, his heart swelling as he reached down to scoop his daughter up.

Stella stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open for a moment before closing again. “Daddy?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Shh,” Max whispered, kissing her temple. “Just putting you to bed, sweetheart.”

She sighed contentedly, already slipping back into sleep as he carried her upstairs. After tucking her in, he noticed her water bottle was empty and picked it up to fill it in the kitchen.

When Max made his way to the kitchen, he found Lando leaning against the counter, tidying up a canister of cocoa powder.

“Lando?” Max said, his brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Lando turned, his usual smirk firmly in place. “Emergency call.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Emergency?”

“Your kid called me in a panic because you’re apparently out of hot chocolate powder. Thought the world was ending.” Lando chuckled, placing the canister in its rightful spot. “I brought some over, but they knocked out before I could even make it.”

Max let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Thanks. I owe you.”

Lando waved a hand dismissively. “No big deal. I live for the drama. Besides, it’s Stella. She’s got me wrapped around her finger.”

Max smiled, grateful for his friend’s unwavering presence. “Get home. You’ve done enough.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando said, grabbing his coat. “Good luck with her, though.” He gestured vaguely toward the living room with a knowing look before heading out.

Filling up the water bottle and putting it back in its place Max returned to the living room, finding her still sound asleep on the sofa. The TV had switched to a dim, idle screen, and her breathing was soft and even.

He crouched down beside her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. For someone so fierce and guarded, she looked almost fragile like this. Vulnerable.

Without a second thought, he slipped his arms under her, lifting her gently. She stirred, her head naturally finding its place against his chest.

“Max?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

“It’s me,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

She shifted slightly, nuzzling closer into him. “Thank you,” she whispered, barely audible.

His heart twisted at the simple words, and he tightened his hold on her instinctively.

“Always,” he said softly, carrying her upstairs.

When he reached his room, he laid her down carefully on the bed, pulling the blankets over her. She murmured something incoherent, her lips curving into a faint smile.

Max stood there for a moment, watching her as she drifted back into deep sleep. The weight of the night’s events pressed on him, but so did the warmth of knowing she was safe, here in his home, with his family.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like he wasn’t just protecting someone—it felt like he was building something

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday

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sunny44 · 14 days ago

Text

September 30th

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Mom!Wife!reader

Warnings: pregnancy and mentions of birth

Summary: It’s Max’s birthday and he couldn’t ask for a better gift than his wife giving birth to their daughter.

Celebrating Max’s birthday had always been special, but this year felt different. The restaurant was filled with the warmth of familiar laughter. Seated at the table were Max, his parents, Victoria, and a few close friends, all smiling and sharing stories. Despite my prominent belly revealing how close we were to meeting our daughter, I felt light and content. We were in one of those cozy Italian restaurants Max loved, the air rich with the aroma of fresh pasta and fragrant herbs.

While Max chatted animatedly with his father, I noticed the sparkle in his eyes—he had always cherished these simple family moments. It made me smile. I knew how much these gatherings meant to him, especially now that we were on the brink of a new chapter in our lives.

“Are you okay, love?” he asked, noticing my gaze fixed on him.

“I’m fine,” I replied, gently caressing my belly. “She’s calm today… for now.”

He chuckled softly, placing his hand over mine to feel the subtle movement of our baby. “She knows it’s my birthday. She’s being kind to me.”

The evening unfolded beautifully, framed by joy and love. I felt complete. It wasn’t just being surrounded by the people we loved but knowing that soon, we’d be holding our daughter in our arms. As plates came and went, conversations flowed effortlessly. Victoria and Sophie, Max’s mom, exchanged ideas about the baby’s nursery. I chimed in occasionally, but mostly, I observed, lost in thoughts about how it would feel to see Max with our daughter, how he would step into his role as a father.

Suddenly, I felt a slight tightening in my belly. It was barely noticeable, a subtle pressure. I didn’t think much of it. I’d felt a few of these small contractions before, and the doctor assured me they were normal in the final weeks of pregnancy. Taking a deep breath, I shifted in my seat, catching Sophie’s warm smile. “You’re glowing, Y/n. You don’t even look like you’re so close to giving birth.”

“Thank you,” I laughed. “But I think that could change any moment now.”

A few minutes later, another tightening came, stronger this time. I tried to mask it, but my hands instinctively went to my belly, and this time, Max noticed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He squeezed my hand, concern evident in his voice.

“Yes… I think so.” But deep down, I knew something was changing.

As the minutes passed, the contractions became more frequent. At a certain point, I could no longer hide my discomfort. The pain wasn’t unbearable yet, but it was growing more intense and consistent.

“Y/n, you’re starting to look pale,” Victoria commented, her worried eyes on me.

I sighed, trying to stay calm. “I… I think it’s happening.”

Max froze for a second, and I saw the moment he processed my words. “You mean now?”

I nodded, biting my lip as another contraction hit, sharper this time. “Yes, now.”

The restaurant, which had been buzzing with laughter and conversation moments before, grew quiet around our table. All eyes turned to me and Max, who was now on his feet, ready to take charge.

“Let’s get you to the hospital,” he said, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a mix of excitement and nerves.

The drive to the hospital felt like it lasted forever and passed in the blink of an eye all at once. I sat in the car, Max by my side, gripping my hand tightly while trying to focus on the road. The contractions continued, each one stronger than the last, making the reality of becoming parents all the more tangible.

When we finally arrived, a medical team swiftly led us to a delivery room. Max stayed by my side the entire time, holding my hand and murmuring words of encouragement. By then, I could barely think clearly. The pain was intense, but all I could focus on was the thought of seeing our daughter’s face.

Time lost meaning as the process unfolded. Sometimes, it felt like hours; other times, it blurred into a series of contractions, deep breaths, and Max’s voice reassuring me that I was doing great.

During one of the most intense moments, I looked at Max. He was sweating almost as much as I was, his face concentrated, but his eyes shone with emotion. “You’re amazing, love. We’re almost there,” he said with a smile that, despite the tension, gave me strength.

And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, I heard the sound that would change our lives forever: the soft, sweet cry of our daughter.

She was born at 11:59 PM, in the last minute of Max’s birthday.

Tears streamed down my face as the doctors cleaned her up and placed her in my arms. She was perfect—tiny, delicate, and absolutely perfect. Max, beside me, gazed at her with an expression I’d never seen before—a mix of pure love, awe, and reverence. He kissed my forehead, then gently kissed our daughter’s head.

“She was born on my birthday,” he whispered, almost in disbelief. “The best gift I could ever ask for.”

I smiled, exhausted but utterly happy. “I think she wanted to make sure this would be an unforgettable day for you.”

He laughed softly, his eyes still locked on her. “I’ll never forget this.”

The next moments passed like a dream. Max held our daughter in his arms with a tenderness that surprised me, considering how fierce and relentless he was on the racetrack. In that moment, he was just a dad, completely in love with his little girl.

Our family, waiting anxiously in the hospital lobby, was soon notified. They quickly joined us, their faces glowing with smiles and tears of joy. Sophie cried as she held her granddaughter, and Jos looked so proud, seeing his son step into fatherhood.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Sophie asked, her eyes sparkling as she looked at us.

Max and I exchanged a glance. We had discussed a few names but wanted to wait for the right moment. I looked at our daughter, and suddenly, it was clear. “Eva,” I said softly. “Eva Verstappen.”

Max smiled, nodding. “Perfect.”

As the night turned into early morning, the hospital grew quieter. I lay in bed, Max beside me, Eva sleeping peacefully in his arms. The silence was comfortable, filled with peace.

“I can’t believe she was born on my birthday,” Max repeated, still in awe. “It couldn’t have been more perfect.”

I chuckled softly, brushing my fingers against his cheek. “I think she wanted to make sure you’d always have this special bond.”

“I always knew this would be the best birthday ever,” he replied, kissing Eva’s tiny head with a tenderness that melted my heart.

As sleep finally overtook me, I knew without a doubt that our lives had changed forever. And I couldn’t have been happier.

Bonus scene!

Maxverstappen Instagram stories

“Today I received the best birthday gift ever, my wife gave birth to our baby girl and make these birthday the best. Both mama and baby are great”

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maplesyrupsainz · 10 months ago

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙slut! | CL16 MV1 ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: charles leclerc x model!y/n reader (she/her) x max verstappen, lestappen x model!fem reader

genre: social media au, polyamory, established relationship x new relationship

warnings: polyamory lol lestappen, mentions of cheating & slut shaming

summary: in which you and your boyfriend get a new boyfriend and everyone gets confused, or in which no one considers polyamory before branding you a slut

a/n: i wanted to make this so bad ever since i got the request & now is the time 🙏

request!!!: I was thinking maybe when model!reader dating Charles and she starts hanging out/becomes friends with Max, and then everyone thinks that she cheating plot twist they are all dating

fc: sophia birlem

my masterlist

instagram ->

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 813,754 others

charles_leclerc 💋

tagged: yourusername

view all 9,138 comments

user1 my fav couple forever

user2 y/n is so hot

user3 her leg on him🥹🥹

yourusername love when im in almost every pic

charles_leclerc duh, you are beautiful

user4 stop ittt

maxverstappen1 beautiful couple

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername

user5 oh hi max

user6 are max & y/n friends?

maxverstappen1 posted a story

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 692,418 others

user7 OMG Y/N???

user8 hottest girl in the world wtf

user9 where's charlesss

user10 max are you third wheeling

user11 i am no better than a man 🥵

yourusername

liked by yourbff, maxverstappen1, and 812,018 others

yourusername bahrain bahrain bahrain

view all 13,027 comments

user12 aww i love that she's friends with max now

user13 y/n are you a lestappen shipper like us

yourusername yes x

user14 OMGGGG

user15 she's insaneeee 😍

charles_leclerc what is that picture

yourusername you and max

maxverstappen1 he's ashamed of me 😢

yourusername he's so nasty

charles_leclerc no.. what the?

twitter ->

instagram ->

maxverstappen1 posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 614,788 others

yourusername BECAUSE IM A GIRL LEAVE ME ALONE!!

maxverstappen1 😂

user19 shaming her for why

user20 where r u going

charles_leclerc she needs lots of outfits okay

maxverstappen1 dont defend her!

user21 they're spending sm time together lately and where is charles

yourusername posted a story

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, and 634,802 others

user22 got any games on your phone

user23 WHERE ARE YOU GOINGGG

charles_leclerc be kind to eachother

yourusername we are 😅

charles_leclerc hmmm

user24 i need more info on this friendship

f1wagupdates

liked by user21, user9, user16, and 231,044 others

f1wagupdates an image has emerged of max verstappen and model y/n y/l/n, who is famously known as charles leclerc's girlfriend of almost four years. is she cheating on him with one of his own friends?

view all 8,024 comments

user25 what the actual eff

user26 IS SHE CHEATING ON HIM??? WELL OBVIOUSLY LOOK AT THE EVIDENCE

user27 wtf im spinning around in circles

user28 just threw up

yourbff everyone always thinks they know everything 🙄

user29 huh??? what is she on about

user30 the pics there to prove it.. 🤡

user31 what is going onnnn

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and 915,274 others

yourusername my job is so fun

view all 12,837 comments

user32 is cheating fun too

user33 what the hell???? so shameless

user34 charles still in the likes?

francisca.cgomes ily

yourusername ilysm 🥰

yourbff hot girl

yourusername real

charles_leclerc my perfect girl

yourusername 💋 love u

user35 ??? does he not know

user36 im so lost

f1wagupdates

liked by user13, user34, user4, and 283,615 others

f1wagupdates we are here once again with a y/n y/l/n sighting, this time once again with her boyfriend charles leclerc. does anyone know what is going on? lol

view all 10,732 comments

user37 can someone explain to me what the hell is happening

user38 maybe she's dating both of them lol

user39 😂😂😂

user40 she did say she shipped lestappen 💀

user41 omg slut much?? wtf is going on

user42 grid bunny

user43 this is sick and twisted

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 1,233,017 others

yourusername & if they call me a slut u know it might be worth it for once

view all 28,962 comments

charles_leclerc my girl 💋

liked by yourusername

maxverstappen1 my girl ❤️

liked by yourusername

user48 wait guys...

user49 they're all dating arent they

user50 OH MY GOD?!!??

user51 poor y/n LOL

francisca.cgomes 🫶🫶

pierregasly 🩷

carlossainz55 ❤️

yourbff proud of u all 😘

lilymhe 💜💜💜💜💜

user52 we're sorry y/n

THE END ❤️💙

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tpwk-formula1 · 3 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 7 - Spanking - CL16, MV1

Charles Leclerc X Max Verstappen X Reader

TW - Spanking, punishment, double penetration, Mean Max, Mean Charles, Bratty reader, squirting, degrading terms

WC 2300+

Y/N POV

"Please, Charles! Max isn't home right now," I beg Charles for the third time in the past 10 minutes.

"Amour, you know damn well he will have both of our asses red if he finds out. Which he will," Charles tells me.

"Fine," I say while getting up with an eye roll. I make my way through our Monaco apartment with Leo hot on my trail before I make it into our shared bedroom where I find Jimmy and Sassy both happily sleeping in their cat tree.

I make my way to Max's side of the bed where I grab my favorite vibrator before quietly sneaking into our guest room and shutting the door behind me. Double checking to make sure the door is locked before stripping myself completely and making myself comfortable on the guest bed.

I decided if Charles wasn't gonna make me cum cause he wanted to be good then I would take matters into my own hands and deal with the punishment later. That is if I even get caught.

I'm not even 5 minutes into my solo session when I hear the front door open and Max announcing his arrive.

"Im home, liefde," Max announces making my anxiety peak a bit knowing exactly what is going to follow as soon as he realizes where I have gone off to and what I was doing.

At this point it was too late to turn back so I might as well make the most of it.

"Where is Y/N?" I can hear Max ask Charles while I have the vibe firmly places against my clit. I whine out at the sound of my boyfriend's voice knowing even if I find a way to cum in such a short amount of time it won't feel half as good as it would if it was Charles or Max.

"She's mad at me," Charles replies back to Max. I can only imagine the confusion that is starting to set in for Max. It was rare for me to be mad at either of the boys and even more rare to disappear when mad instead of solving the problem before it could get any worse.

"What did you do to her?" Max asks making me smile a little but it quickly drops when I remember my ass is about to be at his mercy.

"She's needy. Like so fucking needy. She begged me no less than 5 times to play with her in like a 10-minute span," Charles informs Max.

"So where is she?" Max questions again not understanding why I suddenly disappeared. I normally just continued to beg Charles knowing he would eventually break.

"I'm sure in our room. She kinda just got up and left," Charles tells him honestly. It's like I can feel the wheels turning in Max's head because no less than a second later I can hear both of my men pass the guest room door straight into our room. Then back to my door where I'm sure now that they are focusing their ears, they can hear the soft hum of the vibrator.

"Y/N you have 3 seconds to open this door!" I hear Max's loud voice ring out, making my anxiety reach an all-time high. It's not the bad kind of anxiety but the kind you feel waiting for the best roller coaster in the whole park.

Knowing my punishment is already going to be bad enough I truly don't want to test him, so I clip the power off of the vibrator and rush to open the door.

when I get the door open I find Max with his arms crossed over his chest and Charles is just shaking his head knowing it's about to be a long night because of my actions.

"Get on the bed on all fours and wait for us," is all Max says which has me a little more confused than anything. Normally when I'm about to get punished Max takes matters into his own hands and physically moves me where he wants me to be.

"Give her 30," Max tells Charles as soon as I'm situated and my ass is in the air waiting for the punishment. I have my head turned so I can watch them and I can see the confusion written all over his face.

"Why?" Charles asks clearly not excited to be the one to hand out the punishment. While Charles did occasionally dominate me he was always more about pleasure not pain.

"She wanted to play with you, not me," Max tells him like it was the most simple thing in the world.

"Max, please. You always punish us," Charles tries to reason still not understanding why it had to be him.

"Charles, you know how she is when she's needy. She's going to find a way to cum with or without either of our help. You left her alone, so you're serving her, her punishment is your punishment for letting her be alone long enough to get a toy and lock herself away in another room," Max tells him finally revealing his plan.

"Please Max, I do not want to hurt her," Charles tells Max letting his dow eyes droop a little more than normal.

"She fucking loves this shit Charles and you know it," Max tells him. I can see from here Charles is really fighting with himself. He was the good boy and did everything Max told him but this was new for him. He had never once been the one to dish out one of my punishments and he was struggling to grasp at the idea.

"Color, Charles," Max finally asks seeing the same things I'm seeing. While it was technically still a punishment we made these rules because we enjoyed the dynamic and regardless of it being a punishment or not we had safe words for a reason.

"Green," Charles finally answers softly while making eye contact with Max.

I watch as Max makes his way to the bed where strips down into nothing before sitting right in front of me just out of reach.

"No. Stay there and watch me," Max says when I try to crawl closer to him so I can take him into my mouth. I just let out a loud whine before settling in and waiting for my other boyfriend to dish out my punishment.

The first slap to my ass rings out through the room making me whine at the sudden contact.

"1" I softly count. When I felt another one it was on my other ass cheek making me gasp.

"2" I continue my counting.

"She thought this toy could make her cum just as good as we can," Max says in a teasing manner clearly enjoying watching his loves play.

"No, I just needed -" But couldnt finish my sentence before another slap was issued on my ass. One that had more force than the other too. It took me by such a surprise I lost my breath.

"3" I gasp out when I finally remember how to breathe again. While this wasn't the hardest spanking I had ever received I wouldn't have known it wasn't my dutch boyfriend if he wasn't sitting right in front of me.

"Give her 5 in a row," Max informs Charles making it clear that while Charles might be handing out the punishment he was still the one in charge.

The next five spanks rang out in the room making me whimper at each one.

"8" I count again once Charles finishes the quick 5.

"Fuck, Charlie. Too much," I whine due to how rough he was being. I loved every moment of it, was just shocked at how hard he was spanking me.

"Shut up, Cherie," Charles replies back laying another group of 3 slaps on my glowing ass.

"11" I gasp in surprise looking up at Max to find the same look of shock on his face.

I can feel Charles rubbing my ass in a rough yet soothing manner before his hand left my ass before raining down on my ass again.

"12" I say right before I felt another one ring out.

"13"

"14"

"15" I gasp lightly falling forward on the bed from the force of each slap no longer having the strength to hold myself up.

"Give her a second," Max tells Charles sternly when he aggressively grabs my hips to sit me back up.

Max leans forward stroking my hair while I let a few stray tears fall at the pain.

"Color, liefde," Max asks me making sure I'm still enjoying everything.

"green, Maxie," I whisper out before feeling another slap on my ass.

"16" I continue counting just like how I was trained to do.

I feel another series of slaps on my ass all directed in the same spot making each one hurt more than the one before.

"20" I finally gasp once I catch my breath from the shock of it all.

I start to feel a series of spanks reign down one my ass all in different spots this time all the while Charles is lecturing me.

"I can't believe you're brattiness got me in trouble. I was the fucking good one, you were the damn slut and now I'm in trouble," Charles says while finishing out my punishment.

"30" I cry out once the abuse to my ass has finished. As soon as Charles steps back from my ass I collapse on the bed and start crying softly. Not necessarily from the pain but from the fact that I had gotten Charles in trouble with me even though he had done all the right things.

I feel myself being pulled into the arms of one of my boyfriends and only know who it is from their smell.

"Amour, it's done," Charles says softly making me whine into his neck and gripping onto him a little harder.

"I'm sorry Charlie. Didn't know I would get you in trouble too," I mumble into his neck making him laugh a little.

"It's okay amour. I kinda liked watching your ass glow a beautiful shade of red from my hands. Like my own little art piece," Charles announces clearly proud of the work he had done.

When I finally come back to earth completely I lean over towards Max and pull him in for a kiss which quickly turned into him pulling me out of Charles's arms and into his lap where he instantly sinks his hard cock into my tight pussy. He slid in with almost no resistance simply from how soaked I was.

It didn't take Charles long to join us by slipping behind me where I feel his fingers slip into my ass using my own arousal to make it slick.

"Oh fuck," I moan out when I start bouncing on both Max's cock and Charles's fingers.

"Cum, you little slut," Max tells me which has me instantly shaking from the intensity of the orgasm I was having.

I'm not even fully recovered before I feel Charles slipping his cock into my ass stretching me even more.

"Fuck," I scream out from the stretch and burn I was feeling. They both allow me a few seconds to adjust to their size before they both start moving in me.

"So fucking tight. We spend so much time in these holes and you're still as tight as the first time we played with you," Charles whispers in my ear making me moan.

"Such a little whore, taking two cocks like you were made for it," Max whispers in my other ear, sending chills down my spine from his dirty words.

"Our little whore is about to cum again," Max announces as if Charles didn't know.

"Cum for us, Cherie," Charles tells me which has me letting go and falling over the edge. I feel myself start squirting all over the three of us. While I'm still squirting I try to pull myself off of their cocks but Max holds me in place and continues fucking me in a brutal pace making all of my juice stray all over.

"Next time you cum, it's gonna be when we fill you up with our cum," Charles tells me making me shake.

At their pace, I can feel myself growing close faster than I would have liked.

"Close," I gasp between moans.

"5" Max starts both Charles and I's cum count down. It wasn't something we did all the time but when we did Charles and I loved it knowing by 2 or 3 we are both ready to cum.

"4, both you little whore better hold it," Max grits out making it clear that he was also on the same edge we were on.

"3" Max finally says after what felt like forever even though it was probably only a couple of seconds.

"Please, Max" Charles moans out making it clear he wasn't gonna last much longer.

"2, Charles, you better fucking hold it," Max grits out again continuing his brutal pace on my pussy.

"1, cum for me," Max grits out which has all of us falling over the edge together. I can feel cum filling my ass and pussy helping me ride out the most intense orgasm of the night.

Once we all come down from the high of our pleasure, I feel Charles slowly slipping from my ass making me whine own from the burn of it.

"Sorry, Cherie," Charles whispers out once he's fully out. He leans down and gives the back of my head a couple kisses.

I slowly start climbing off of Max's dick making both of us hiss in from the sensitivity we were both going through.

We give ourselves a couple of minutes to regroup our thoughts before we start our aftercare routine. Which consists of plenty of kisses, reassurance, a shower, and of course plenty of cuddles with our fur babies.

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