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maxtermind · 6 months ago

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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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landoughnut · 11 days ago

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Simply Lovely - MV1

masterlist - request - patreon

pairing: max verstappen x ferrari driver!fem!reader

summary: the power couple of the grid dominating the season

w/c & a/n: smau | I keep changing my format

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, scuderiaferrari, f1, charles_leclerc, and 4,197,027 others yourusername exciting pole for the 1st race this season!! ❤️🏎️

view all comments

user1 LETS GOO FORZA FERRARI ♥︎ by author

redbullracing how about racing for us next year 🙌

scuderiaferrari how about no ❤️

yourusername redbullracing I think I'd like to keep the blue and red duo 🫶🏻

maxverstappen1 yourusername we do make a pretty color together don't we 😉 ♥︎ by author

yourusername maxverstappen1 I see the pick up line vision but your execution was embarrassing

user2 yourusername STAY AT FERRARI PLEASE YOU'RE THE TIFOSI'S ONLY HOPE ♥︎ by author

charles_leclerc user2 ...🧍🏻‍♂️

maxverstappen1 I'm so proud of you mijn liefje 💙

yourusername thank you my love ❤️

charles_leclerc CONGRATS 🎉 🏆 ♥︎ by author

yourusername grazie mio amico❤️‍🔥 good race 🫡

lando fire drive mate 🔥 ♥︎ by author

yourusername THANKS LANN

maxverstappen1 first is always best, but if getting second place means seeing you in first then we're both winners

yourusername omg I'm tearing up that is so sweet 🥹 I love you so so much

maxvertstappen1 yourusername I love you more mijn kampioen 💙

user3 maxverstappen1 STOPPP THAT'S SO CUTE

user4 that's like the highest compliment max could give

alexandrasaintmleux insane drive today! 💋

yourusername love you alex 😘

scuderiaferrari BRAVOOOOO yourusername 🙌🤩 ♥︎ by author

redbullracing ^^^ ♥︎ by author

scuderiaferrari redbullracing buddy thinks compliments will get her to switch teams 😂

redbullracing scuderiaferrari it's always worth a try 🤷🏼‍♂️

user5 the way ferrari and red bull put their rivalry aside and both support max and y/n is the cutest thing ♥︎ by author

maxverstappen1 user5 the only difference is, is that ferrari supports me cause I'm dating her, red bull supports her cause she's good 😸

user6 maxverstappen1 so basically in shorter terms, you're her wag 🙂‍↕️

maxverstappen1 user6 and proud of it 🧎‍♂️♥︎ by author

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, lando, and 4,197,027 others yourusername AND THATS POLE POSITION 🏆❤️ maxverstappen1

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user7 YESSSSSSS QUEEN 👸

user8 PODIUM POWER COUPLE 😍

francolapinto 🙌❤️🔥

maxverstappen1 I'm watching you... 😑

maxverstappen1 gefeliciteerd mijn lieverd! ik houd van je 😻🥇 ♥︎ by author

yourusername I LOVE YOU MORE

maxverstappen1 how do you look so beautiful getting covered in champagne? ♥︎ by author

lando yourusername I saw him almost slip because he kept staring it you ♥︎ by author

user9 max caught in 4k 📸

yourusername lando it's alright I like to ogle him too 🥰

maxverstappen1 yourusername 😘 ♥︎ by author

user10 imagine both being such good drivers that you can make heart eyes at each other on podium after each race 🥲

user11 user10 relationship goals

lando yourusername max told me not to say but I saw his eyes watering during the national anthem

yourusername maxverstappen1 all good tears I hope

maxverstappen yourusername happy tears for you 💙 lando big mouth 🖕 ♥︎ by author

lando maxverstappen1 HEY

lilymhe CONGRATULATIONS MY WIFE ♥︎ by author

yourusername THANK YOU SM LILY BABE ILY 💍

alex_albon .....

maxverstappen1 ........

user12 AND THATS ON GIRL POWER 🎀 ♥︎ by author

scuderiaferrari LETS GOOOOOO 🙌❤️‍🔥 ♥︎ by author

user13 QUEEN OF FERRARI 🤭

user14 the tifosi's savior 🙏

charles_leclerc .............

user14 charles_leclerc did you will 13/24 races last year and the first two races of this season??

charles_leclerc user14 🧍🏻‍♂️

yourusername charles_leclerc LMAOAOAOAO YOU GOT HUMBLED AF

user15 awhh the pic of her and max driving next to each other 🫠

redbullracing congrats yourusername!! you know what they say, blue is the color of success! ♥︎ by author

scuderiaferrari literally no one says that ♥︎ by author

mclaren some people say papaya brings luck 😁 ♥︎ by author

redbullracing mclaren leave

scuderiaferrari mclaren leave

mclaren I guess I'll see myself out then..... 😪

maxverstappen1 why don't the teams fight over me like this 🥺

user16 maxverstappen1 cause your girlfriend is just better 🥺 ♥︎ by author

maxverstappen1 user16 alright valid ♥︎ by author

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, redbullracing, f1, lando, carlossainz55, and 4,197,027 others maxverstappen1 simply lovely drive tonight 🏆 yourusername

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yourusername THAT'S MY BOYFRIENDDDDD ♥︎ by author

maxverstappen1 😘💙

yourusername YOU LOOKED SO HOT NEXT TO ME ON PODIUM 😩 ♥︎ by author

maxverstappen1 and you'll so hot next to me in bed later

lando EW YOU HORNDOGS GET A ROOM 🤢

danialricciardo lando imagine what I had to deal with from him, actually I still do deal with it

maxverstappen1 lando don't worry we plan to 😉

yourusername maxverstappen1 leave him alone he's like 10 😭

lando yourusername EXCUSE ME??

yourusername lando you're excused ♥︎ by author

lando yourusername IM 25

user17 lando no ones listening anymore lil bro ♥︎ by author

scuderiaferrari 🥶 ♥︎ by author

user18 BROO THE WAY HE RAN TO KISS HER AFTER THE BOTH FINISHED THE RACE 🥹

oscarpiastri congrats 👍 ♥︎ by author

yourusername dude you text like my dad 😭 do you know other emoji's exist

lando yourusername he's pregnant so he's just practicing

maxverstappen1 lando 🫢🫄

user19 UGHH THEY LOOKED SO FINE TOGETHER ON PODIUM

lewishamilton 💪 ♥︎ by author

user20 max's radio message being him dedicated this win to her had me getting emotional

user21 REALLLL

user22 he does this every win yet every time it gets me

yourusername I'm so so proud of you 💞 ♥︎ by author

alphinef1team pink for alpine⁉️⁉️

scuderiaferrari alphinef1team leave ♥︎ by author

redbullracing alphinef1team leave ♥︎ by author

maxverstappen1 yourusername thank you, mijn liefde, you're my greatest trophy 💙

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dreamauri · 1 month ago

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♪ — 𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗣𝗔𝗬 𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧 max verstappen x wife! reader (fluff) fic summary . . . a tiktok trend is surfacing where people go up to their s/o and tell them they can't pay rent to see their reaction. There isn't a reason why you shouldn't participate (567 words)

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

Max is completely locked in, eyes glued to the screen, hands firm on the wheel, mouth slightly open in concentration. His headset is snug over his ears, blocking out the world as he maneuvers through corners with precision. His sim-racing setup is no joke—triple monitors, top-tier wheelbase, everything fine-tuned to perfection.

You take a deep breath and step into the frame, phone in hand.

“Max,” you say, voice soft, but just enough to be heard over the whirring of his wheel.

“Mm?” He doesn’t look away.

You hesitate for dramatic effect, then sigh. “I, uh . . . I can’t pay rent this month.”

The reaction is instant. His foot slams the brake pedal so hard his virtual car nearly stalls. His head jerks toward you, brows knitting together in pure confusion.

“What?”

You bite your lip, fighting the smile creeping onto your face. “I don’t have enough this month. I can’t pay rent.”

Max blinks. He blinks again. His hands hover uselessly over the wheel before he suddenly rips the headset off, letting it dangle around his neck. “What do you mean you can’t pay rent?” He tilts his head, looking at you like you just told him you crashed his actual F1 car.

You shrug. “I just—things were a little tight, so I can’t—”

Max pushes his chair back and stands so fast it nearly topples over. “But—wait.” He stares at you, then rubs his temple. “What do you mean you can’t pay? How were you paying in the first place?”

It’s so cute how he’s actually struggling to process this.

You tilt your head, acting innocent. “With my money?”

“You don’t pay rent!” he practically yells. His Dutch accent thickens, hands flying to his hips in exasperation. “I told you—you are my princess. You don’t pay for anything! This is my house, my responsibility!”

You blink up at him. “So . . . you’re saying I don’t have to pay?”

Max looks personally offended. “Have you been—were you secretly paying rent behind my back?!” His voice jumps an octave. His hands gesture wildly between you and the general direction of his computer, as if that will help him understand what’s happening. “Did the rent go up and you covered it?! Why didn’t I know? Who did you send money to? Do I need to call someone—?”

He’s spiraling.

You bite your lip harder to keep from laughing. “So . . . you’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Max runs a hand through his hair, pacing a little. “Schat, I am not mad—I am concerned.” He stops, suddenly grabbing your hands. “How do you not have enough money? What happened?” His eyes are full of actual worry now. “Did someone scam you? Did you buy something? Do you need more? I can transfer you money now—”

The way he’s already reaching for his phone makes you lose it.

Your laughter finally breaks through, and Max freezes. His head tilts, eyes narrowing. “Wait.” His lips press together, suspicious. “Is this a joke?”

You nod, still giggling, and Max exhales so hard it’s like he just finished a two-hour race. He groans, rubbing his face.

“You—” He shakes his head. “You are lucky I love you.”

You grin, wrapping your arms around his waist. “So I don’t have to pay rent?”

Max huffs, still annoyed but already melting into your hold. He kisses your forehead with a dramatic sigh.

“Schat, you were never paying rent to begin with.”

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thepitlanepress · 3 months ago

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WHAT ARE YOU DOING? –

↳ max verstappen + gf!mom!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: since i have the emotional and mental stamina and strength of a decaying cabbage rn this idea has graciously been given to me by my other half @arqbella so big thanks to her for this <3 this is also a short one bc as stated earlier decaying cabbage

"liefje?" max's calls out from the kitchen.

he usually expects an answer within the range of three to forty seconds. if you're super distracted a minute tops. you've alway had this thing- no matter what, whenever max calls you, you somehow hear him every time.

he thinks you also just like it when he calls you liefje or any nickname in dutch. your favorite is liefje though, as you've told him oh so many times.

because who wouldn't want to be called liefje by max verstappen are the exact words you use.

so when you don't answer him for a solid five minutes, he goes searching. he's hopeless at this recipe and needs your expertise before he blows the kitchen up.

"liefje?" max calls out again, still no answer. you must be upstairs somewhere with the baby then.

when he reaches the second floor he calls out your name again, but still no answer.

what is going on?

and being the dedicated boyfriend that he is, he gives up on his search and starts to return to the kitchen hoping things didn't explode in the kitchen while he was gone. surely he can work out how follow the instructions and have a perfect little surprise for you when you come down stairs.

just when he reaches the top step he hears your voice. its higher pitched and it sounds like you're mumbling nonsense so you must be talking to the baby.

whenever he stumbles in on you with the baby you always seems to be singing, or talking, or even gossiping to your little girl, who stares back at you with wide eyes - and an adorable face.

he decides the kitchen will be safe without him - what a mistake that was - and follows the two of his favorite sounds in the world. your voice and your baby's laugh.

he gently pushes the door open and leans on the door frame as he- what are you singing?

"du du du du max verstappen," you coo to the little bundle in you arms. "du du du du max verstappen!" you bounce about causing a little laugh to erupt out of your daughter.

"what are you doing, liefje?" max asks a mix between a smile and a frown on his face.

"i'm singing our daughter a song that i like," is all you supply.

"really because it sounds awful lot like the song that i don't like."

"i'm educating our child on how her papa is a famous f1 driver."

"i think the excessive amount of f1 things in this room will do- its practically a shrine, liefje."

"i happen to like it," you huff at max and smile at your daughter. "and so does she, look at her face, see? she loves it."

"i think she loves the fact that her mama is singing and dancing with her," he points out he says pushing off the doorframe and coming to stand beside you and look over you shoulder at the little girl in your arms.

you both stand there for a moment just savouring the little peace and memory that you'll most likely keep for a long while.

well that was until, "du du du du max verstappen."

"really?"

2025 © thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works

– comments and reblogs appreciated

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vettelsvee · 3 months ago

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THE MOMENT I KNEW | Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: After a few races where he didn't get the results he expected, Max decides to go out with some friends to disconnect from everything. Unluckily, one of those days when he arrives home after having some drinks, he finds out that he missed his girlfriend's birthday as soon as he sees the cake she ordered on the trash ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe something angsty?? Like maybe bro goes out with his friends and forgets readers bday until he sees the cake in the trash can and realizes bro screwed up

WORD COUNT: 2007

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of being drunk, angst

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: I've absolutely loved this one my God. With this fic, we mark a total of 6196 words written this week (not counting my uni essays and other several projects), so I'm quite proud about that! Also, thank you so much for the support all this week, hope you liked all the fics! I'll be uploading this upcoming week's posts tomorrow. Let me know in the comments or on the anon inbox your thoughts on this one! See you next week :) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

Max stumbled into your apartment, fumbling with the keys and opening the door with trembling hands, his pounding headache reminding him that it wouldn’t be this bad if he’d listened to the bartender’s advice to stop after the last gin tonic.

As soon as he stepped inside, he froze in the doorway, scanning everything as if it were his first time entering the place, even though he had been living there for nearly five years, the last two with you. He took a few unsteady steps toward the small entryway counter, where he dropped his keys and realized the silence was far heavier than he had anticipated.

His laughter, faint and fueled by the false sense of security that alcohol had provided, quickly dissipated. Taking a cautious step further into the living room, he noticed there were no lights on, no plates or leftover food on the small coffee table in front of the TV, and most strikingly, you were neither sprawled out on the couch watching one of the romantic movies you adored nor curled up asleep with one of your cats.

Despite the glaring signs, Max didn’t panic, at least not as much as he should have, even though something inside him whispered that the situation didn’t sit right.

It wasn’t until he wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water and rounded the island that his foot stumbled slightly, nearly sending him sprawling to the floor. Puzzled, he looked down to see what had caused him to trip. His heart sank when his eyes landed on a discarded box, its lid broken as if it had been thrown to the floor, angrily, on purpose.

That’s when reality hit him like a freight train.

He turned his gaze to the left, where the trash can stood partially open. Inside, he saw an untouched cake, decorated with intricate floral designs and a message that read, “Happy Birthday, Y/N!” The sight struck him like a blow to the chest, the pressure so intense it made him want to vomit.

“No… No, it wasn’t today…”

Desperately, and trying to figure out what to do, Max ran his hands through his hair, as if that might somehow help him calm down. His breathing grew more erratic with each passing second, his eyes glued to the cake. It didn’t feel real. He couldn’t understand how he had managed to forget such an important date… you, his girlfriend’s, birthday. Something so obvious had suddenly spiraled into a waking nightmare.

He noticed his phone sitting on the kitchen counter. Grabbing it quickly, he checked for any missed calls or messages from you, only to realize after several failed attempts to turn it on that it was dead. He blamed his drunkenness not only for not noticing he didn’t have his phone with him or that it was out of battery, but for forgetting such a meaningful day and breaking every promise he had made to you.

Deep down, though, he knew all the excuses were hollow. Any justification he tried to offer would be nothing but foolishness.

Setting the phone back on the counter, he decided not to waste any more time. He headed toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, and though the lights were off, he could make out your silhouette lying on the bed, your back turned to him. You gave no sign that you had noticed his arrival. The only sound in the room was your muffled, quiet sobs. As Max stepped closer, he saw you were clutching a pillow tightly, as if it were your only source of comfort.

That was the moment Max realized he couldn’t avoid facing the situation, no matter how impossible it felt to fix things right away.

“Y/N...” he said softly.

You didn’t answer, and your silence hurt more than a thousand words could have. Max knelt beside the bed, close enough to reach out, and gently began stroking your face. You didn’t resist his touch, but your indifference pierced him deeply.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice trembling as he fought to hold himself together. “I swear this wasn’t my intention… I wanted to come home earlier, but Lando insisted we stay a bit longer, and then I didn’t have my phone…”

“You forgot, Max,” you interrupted, your tone sharp but laced with pain, anger, and sadness. You still wouldn’t look at him. “Goddammit, Max, you forgot my fucking birthday ever since the moment the clock struck midnight.”

Max fell silent. Once again, reality hit him square in the face, forcing him to acknowledge that anything he said would likely be inadequate. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to find the words to explain himself calmly, to admit his mistakes while grappling with the weight of his guilt.

“You know it wasn’t my intention,” he began, his voice low. “It’s just… with the shitty season I’ve been having and everything that comes with it, I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. I just needed to step out of my comfort zone for a bit, to clear my head…”

“And you thought doing that on my birthday, after promising me a dream day, was the most appropriate choice?” you cut him off, finally raising your head. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying. “I know you’re not in a good place right now, but I also know that until now, every promise you’ve made to me, you’ve kept. You didn’t just forget about me, Max. You left me here, alone, all day, like I didn’t matter at all.”

Max searched desperately for a way to salvage the situation, to apologize, to do something, anything, to prove how deeply sorry he was. But when you turned on the light and sat up to face him, he realized he was out of options. He didn’t know how to continue without disappointing you further.

“You know this has been really hard for me…”

“Hard for you? Seriously?” you interrupted, leaning closer and pointing your finger at him. “And you think this has been easy for me? Watching you shut me out, never telling me what’s going on in that head of yours? Not to mention your fans… They’re fully convinced that your shitty season is all my fault, that our relationship is ruining your career.”

“Y/N, I know…”

That was a lie. He didn’t know. Max had ignored the comments and criticism because, deep down, he believed you weren't to blame for his performance, especially when you rarely even went with him to the races anymore.

“There’s nothing I can say to argue with you,” Max admitted. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve been a complete asshole today, and I’m truly sorry. I love you, Y/N, more than you know…”

“Are you sure you love me?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you love me, or your damn career? Because lately, it feels like your whole world revolves even more around cars, races, speed, adrenaline, and your constant need to be the best at everything.”

“Hey…” Max tried, his voice faltering.

“Every day, you show me more and more that we’re no longer a team… that I’m no longer a part of you. And I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”

Your words hit him like a dagger, but he knew he deserved them.

“It’s not just about you forgetting my birthday today, Max. It’s everything. You don’t listen to me… you don’t give me anything, not even a minute of your day, let alone affection or support. Why should I stay in a relationship that, instead of giving me life, is killing me inside?”

Your words struck him like a bucket of ice water.

“You don’t get it, do you?” you asked, frustration and sadness mingling in your tone as he stayed silent. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be afraid to show me who you are, flaws and all. But you’ve always done this, Max, keeping me at arm’s length, never letting me into your life.”

“I don’t do that, Y/N, it’s just that…” he began, summoning his courage to explain, but you cut him off once again.

“Damn it, Max, yes, of course you do!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you realize that even though I’ve been with you, I’ve been completely alone? Alone, Max, utterly alone! I’ve tried so many times to talk to you, to make you see that a few bad races aren’t the end of the world for someone like you, but…”

You stopped yourself abruptly, your throat aching and your head pounding. You felt no remorse for the way you were speaking to him since he deserved every word, but you couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness. Sadness for the Max Verstappen you had once known. A man who had been so proud of himself and his achievements after years of hard work, now emotionally shattered and, worse, so determined to hide it from everyone, including you.

“I can’t keep giving you everything I have while you keep taking and taking, without giving anything back.”

“I’m sorry…” Max muttered, but the words felt hollow.

“A simple ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t fix anything, Max,” you replied, your voice quieter now but no less wounded. “I wish it were just about today, but like I said, I feel like you’re pushing me further out of your life with every passing day. You’re becoming a stranger to me, Max,” you admitted, trying not to let your voice waver. “You’ve been like this for months, and I don’t know what else to do to stop us from falling apart… though it feels like that’s exactly what you want.”

“That’s not true,” he answered immediately, desperation in his voice. “Y/N, seriously, I love you more than you could ever imagine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, tears welling up again. “Because I feel like you’re showing me the exact opposite.” Your voice trembled with the weight of her words. “Sometimes it feels like you love your career, the success you’ve achieved and the crowds chanting your name more than you love me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible. “You know I want to, but… I don’t know how to fix this anymore…”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his face for some sign, some silent promise that would make you believe things between you could change. But Max’s words only made you realize that you had to stop thinking fantasies and start facing reality.

“Maybe you can’t fix it,” you confessed, the words breaking you from the inside. “I can’t keep going like this, Max… I can’t keep feeling like I’m not enough… like I’m not good enough for you.”

“Seriously, there has to be a solution…” he pleaded, his voice full of regret. “I’ll do better from now on, I promise…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You turned to look at him, the pain evident in your expression. “Things won’t magically get better if you take me to dinner or buy me a million-dollar necklace to make up for today. That won’t fix anything, Max…”

“Y/N… Y/N, please… I need you…”

No matter how many times Max said those words, he knew that any promise he made now would be meaningless, especially considering how much he had already failed you.

Feeling that there were no more words left to say between them, you slowly got out of bed. You gathered the few belongings you had on the nightstand and, with a sense of finality, began to pack a bag, all the while feeling Max’s powerless gaze on you.

“I can’t keep waiting, Max,” you said, her voice steady despite the anguish inside. “Today, no matter how much I tried to turn a blind eye, let it go, and even put myself in your shoes… This… everything… after many tries… God, Max, all of this… That was the moment I knew.”

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afterglowsainz · 3 months ago

Text

out of time | max verstappen

pairing: bsf!reader x max verstappen

summary: your best friend max and you have always been attracted to each other but you just keep dating other people instead of facing your feelings

fc: savannah lee smith

a/n: i’m still at the restaurant AGAIN (qatar 2024) (i’m also trying a new posting time so hopefully this won’t flop)

—

liked by maxverstappen1, bffusername and others

yourusername all the roads 👀🇮🇹

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username who is thattt

username ms girl you’re glowinggg

username obsessed with the outfits 🤩

username fourth pic ??? omg

username not even gonna bother asking who that is cause I know they’re just gonna break up in like a week

username RUDE

username but true

username love that she’s obsessed with hard launching the most random guys she hooks up with because (same) but when is she gonna hard launch max ????

username I think hell will have to froze first

liked by yourusername, gfusername and others

maxverstappen1 🤍

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username boooo that’s not y/n 🍅🍅🍅

username it never is unfortunately 😭

username this is like the fourth gf of the year???

yourusername 🥰🥰🥰

username girl please come get your man

username the most pinterest coded picture and is just with some random chick he’s gonna eventually break up with 😭

username I think the only ones that don’t know max and y/n are into each other are max and y/n

username oblivious babies🥹

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and others

yourusername end of the season (cheering for the energy drink team or whatever) 🫶🏽

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maxverstappen1 as you should! 💙

username ugh get a room

username MY QUEEN 🩷

redbullracing always happy to have you💙

yourusername ILY ADMIN💗💗💗

username y/n being there and max’s gf not is … something

lilymhe gorgeous🫶🏽 (liked by yourusername)

username this is my favorite type of y/n photos

danielricciardo where to now?

yourusername you know the answer to that

liked by yourusername, bffusername and others

maxverstappen1 end of season 🥳

tagged martingarrix, danielricciardo and yourusername

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username WHO TOLD HIM it was appropriate to post the last picture????

username they are suchhhh a couple 😩😩

username max and y/n not being together challenge

username bfr they’re losing in the first five minutes

username atp i’m surprised neither martin or daniel have intervened

username ohhh he looks so cute 🥹

martingarrix 👊🏽😅

username thank god i’m not his girlfriend because i would not be so calm about that last picture

username same

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maxverstappen ☀️🌴

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username wtffff another one?

username SO SOON

username oh! and it’s still not y/n

username not interested then

username to know they’re eventually gonna break up once y/n gets a new boyfriend 😭

username those two NEED therapy

username I could write essays about that relationship

username wish you all the best! ❤️ (they’ll split in a week)

username bestie you’re a psychic!

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

yourusername new york, new york 🧸

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username okay first of all slay

username that dress omg 😍

username I am no better than a man

username now who the hell is that

username can’t believe I’m losing my woman to some random new yorker

username it’s killing me that they like each other posts about getting a new partner every. single. time.

username why is it that her and max can’t be single for one minute

username bc they would have to face their feelings for each other lol

username and you’re so sure about that how?

username you obviously weren’t there in 2016

maxverstappen1 🍻🎉 (liked by yourusername)

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux and others

yourusername tourist activities (and training) with maxie 📸

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username pls tell me you got a tattoo

yourusername unfortunately i did not 😔 next time for sure!

username omg

username the face card is insaneee

username “maxie” 🥹

username I actually cry passed out return to live and died

username pls just get together I’m on my knees you two deserve a happy ending with each other plssss 😩

username I think I speak for everyone when I say, thank you for the last pic

yourusername yw 🫡

username GIRL i know you saw the other comments

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yourusername starting the season with a bangerrr 💥

tagged maxverstappen1

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username wow 😮‍💨

username her face is unreal omgggg

username max verstappen can you fight?

username i was never that close to max anyways

alexandrasaintmleux 😍

username truly the most beautiful woman

maxverstappen1 nice jacket, a bit big for you tho

yourusername I wonder why that is

username are they… flirting…

username openly… on the internet…

username quick! when was the last time they both posted they were dating someone?

username omg

liked by yourusername, martingarrix and others

maxverstappen1 i spend so much time looking for love in different places, i didn’t realize i had it right next to me ❤️ happy birthday my y/n <3

tagged yourusername

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username OMG WHAT wait hold on

username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WTF IS HAPPENING OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEEN

username I will never recover

username chat is this real or am I hallucinating

username the way everyone wanted this and still no one knows how to act 😭

username because we never thought it’ll actually happen 😭😭😭

username “my y/n” I’m actually gonna go kms

username MY PARENTS FINALLY🥰

username god heard our prayers

yourusername 🥹🥹🥹 thank you my love <3

username romance is alive and breathing

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starkwlkr · 5 months 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 can’t 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 · 5 months ago

Text

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: You have been secretly dating Formula 1 driver Max Verstappen, but unfortunately, your relationship is revealed by a live stream.

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

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

Sitting beside you were your clingy cats, lying on your lap hoping to turn your attention from the screen to them.

As the minutes went by, so did the race, which was coming to an end. On the final lap, there was a battle between McLaren and Red Bull. Both were neck-to-neck, and neither could win, but in the end, the current world champion 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 lie down on you.

You waited eagerly for your phone to ring, hoping it was Max. And in no time, he was face-timing you in all his 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 were here, Liefje", Max said, changing the topic back to reality.

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

"I know, I'll 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 to yourself, but after you met Max, your life took a drastic turn to luxury. But your soft-spoken nature never changes.

You were so afraid of what his fans might think of you that you decided to keep your relationship a secret. That was a year ago, Max has been supported by 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 in public, while he couldn't.

You hate seeing Max upset like that and you wish you could get over your 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 wake up, you look terrible upon looking at the mirror, seeing huge eye bags and your disheveled hair in disgust.

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

You ran toward pulling him into 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 ears and 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 smirked before putting little kisses all over your face.

"Speaking of which, Max, I want to talk to you". You spoke softly as 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 dance 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 spectacular news, a smile plastered on his face for days. Some of the other drivers were even creeped out by Max's 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, so you decided to ask what Max wanted to order.

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 of ordering in", you said softly, brushing some of Max's hair away from his face to see his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Whatever you want, Liefje", Max smiled, swaying you gently.

"Hmm, what ab-", before you could finish, the red dot on the computer caught your eye. "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 disappointment.

"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 and trying to calm him down.

You and Max both turned off your phone, avoiding Max's 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 felt.

"Yeah...Okay", Max mumbles out.

Seeing Max go to sleep, sad makes your 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 Verstappen 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, it's Max's 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 territory 🐺 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 Red Bull 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 of how these two children are 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 goodness it wasn't me Princessusername47: 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 Red Bull fan hehe. 😇 maxverstappen1: Liessssss🐍 yourusername: shut up, or you'll be sleeping on the couch 😙

Masterlist🩷

1K notes · View notes

theonottsbxtch · 1 month ago

Text

TEEN IDLE | MV1

an: god this idea came to me while listening to teen idle by marina and lowkey kinda liked where i ended it, so i hope you enjoy it just as much and i won't write a pt 2 to this- unfortunalety for me my beloved friend hasn't proof read this one so apologies

wc: 2.8k

MAX VERSTAPPEN WAS RAISED FOR THIS. Before he could walk, he was sat in a go-kart; before he could read, he knew the weight of a steering wheel in his hands. His father made sure of that. Other kids had footballs, bicycles, summer holidays. He had telemetry sheets and tyre wear reports.

He was bred to be a champion, and so he became one.

By twenty-eight, Max had won everything there was to win. Multiple titles, records shattered, his name etched into the sport’s history books. And yet, looking back, it all felt like one long, unbroken blur—an endless series of podiums, press conferences, mechanics’ murmurs, and the relentless pressure of being the golden boy.

He could barely remember what it was like to be young, not properly. There were flashes, though. The sharp, acrid scent of petrol in the garage. The weight of his father’s expectations pressing down on him like a vice. The way his stomach had twisted before every junior race, knowing that second place was never good enough.

And then there were the times he could barely remember. That he should remember.

He had been seventeen, teetering on the edge of adulthood but feeling nothing like a man. She had been older—how much older, he wasn’t sure anymore, but old enough for it to feel like something forbidden. He’d told himself it was what he wanted, that he needed to do it. To feel something, to prove something.

Afterwards, he had stared at the ceiling, waiting for some grand revelation, some fundamental shift inside him. It never came.

He didn’t feel like more of a man.

And now, sitting in his driver room in another city, another race weekend, another meaningless milestone approaching, he wonders if anything ever really has.

He saw himself in the mirror across the room, still in his race suit, half unzipped, the fireproofs underneath clinging to his skin. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead. He looked older than he remembered. Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe it was the exhaustion.

Maybe it was just the truth.

His phone vibrated on the bedside table. Another message he wouldn’t answer. He knew what it would say. Some journalist fishing for a quote. Someone from the team reminding him about media duties. A half-hearted invitation to drinks he had no interest in.

He ignored it.

Instead, he let himself sink back into the mattress, staring at the ceiling, replaying it all again. The wasted years. The wasted youth. The pretty lies, the ugly truth.

He had once thought that if he just won enough, if he proved himself enough, it would all start to mean something. That the hollow feeling would go away. But it never had.

He remembered being ten years old, crying in the back of his father’s car after a race he should have won. The slap, sharp and stinging. If you want to be the best, you can’t be weak.

He remembered being fifteen, standing on the top step of the podium, trophy in his hands, cameras flashing. His father’s arm around his shoulder, grip just a little too tight. See? This is what you were made for.

He remembered being seventeen, sheets tangled around his legs, a woman whose name he barely knew tracing her fingers down his chest. Was that what you wanted?

He hadn’t known what to say then. He still didn’t.

His driver room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning, the city lights seeping through the gap in the curtains. He had spent years surrounded by noise—engines screaming, crowds chanting, his father’s voice drilling into his skull—and yet, in the quiet, he still heard it all.

He exhaled, long and slow, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. It was easier not to think. Easier to let the days blur together, one podium, one interview, one flight after another.

But some nights—like this one—he couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever really been alive at all.

He stayed there for a while, sprawled across the bed, staring at the ceiling as if it might give him some sort of answer. It never did. The room felt too still, too clinical, the kind of place designed for fleeting stays and nothing more. He had lived in hotels and motorhomes for most of his life, but none of them had ever felt like home.

Eventually, he forced himself to move. Peeling off his fireproofs, he let them drop to the floor, stepping over them as he made his way to the tiny en-suite. The mirror above the sink reflected someone he barely recognised. Shadows clung beneath his eyes, and a faint red mark on his forehead from his balaclava made him look even more exhausted than he felt.

He turned the tap on, splashing cold water onto his face, then braced his hands against the sink, head hanging low. He needed to get out.

Throwing on a plain t-shirt and an old hoodie, he grabbed a cap from the side table and pulled it low over his eyes. It was enough to make him anonymous—just another man slipping into the night, nothing special.

The paddock had mostly emptied by now, a few lingering mechanics finishing up for the evening, murmured conversations carrying through the cool air. He walked with purpose, shoulders hunched, hands stuffed into his pockets. No one stopped him. No one even looked twice.

By the time he reached the edge of town, he found what he was looking for. A pub, run-down but still open, the glow of neon signs flickering in the window. It wasn’t the kind of place anyone from the paddock would go, which was exactly why he chose it.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of stale beer and cheap cologne, a low hum of conversation and the occasional scrape of a chair against the floor. A few old blokes sat hunched over their pints, barely sparing him a glance as he made his way to the bar.

“Can I help?” the bartender asked, barely looking up as he wiped down the counter.

“Whisky,” he said, voice hoarse from a day of interviews and radio calls. “Neat.”

The glass clinked against the wood a few moments later. He took it without a word, moving to a quiet corner, away from the dim overhead lights.

He took a sip. It burned on the way down, but at least it made him feel something.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, nursing the drink, letting the noise of the bar blur around him. Long enough for the ice to melt, for the world outside to fade into nothing.

For the first time in a while, he felt like nobody. And somehow, that was a relief.

The whisky went down too easily. He swirled the last of it in his glass, watching the way the light caught the amber liquid, then tipped it back, letting it burn its way down. He wasn’t drunk, not yet, but the edges of everything felt softer. Less sharp. Less real.

He was about to signal the bartender for another when she appeared. She slid into the seat opposite him without hesitation, eyes flicking towards the entrance before settling on him.

He barely had time to register her presence before a man followed, taller, broader, the kind of bloke who walked like he owned the room. The girl didn’t look at him, just leaned forward, resting her arms on the table as she spoke.

“See, I told you my boyfriend was waiting for me.”

Max didn’t move. Didn’t react. But he caught the way her fingers curled slightly, gripping the edge of the table just a little too tight. The man hovered for a second too long, gaze shifting between them, then exhaled sharply through his nose.

“Right,” he muttered, before turning and stalking back towards the bar.

She waited until he was gone before she relaxed, shoulders dropping ever so slightly. Then she looked at Max properly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Thanks for that,” she said, not sounding particularly sorry.

He didn’t respond, just pushed his empty glass aside, already regretting getting involved in whatever this was. But she didn’t seem bothered by his silence. She tilted her head, eyeing the glass, then raised a brow at him.

“What are you drinking?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, shifting slightly in his seat. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk, least of all with a stranger who had just used him as an excuse to shake off some bloke she clearly had no interest in.

But she ignored him, her eyes flicking to the last few amber drops in his glass before he could move it out of sight.

“Whisky,” she said, like she had figured him out. Then, before he could protest, she got up and strode towards the bar.

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He should leave. Finish the last drops, disappear into the night, let her deal with whatever mess she was in on her own.

But when she returned, setting a fresh glass down in front of him with a quiet clink, he didn’t move.

“Cheers, boyfriend,” she teased, raising her own glass.

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly, but picked up the drink anyway.

For now, he stayed.

She took a sip of her drink, watching him over the rim of her glass. He could feel her curiosity, the way she was studying him, trying to fit him into a story in her head.

“So,” she said eventually, setting her glass down, “do I get to know my fake boyfriend’s name?”

He hesitated. It was a simple enough question, but it felt like a trap. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the whisky. Maybe it was the way she had just waltzed into his night without permission, without expectation. But before he could stop himself, he said, “Emilian.”

It was his middle name. He didn’t know why he hadn’t said Max, that was far more common that Emilian.

She raised an eyebrow. “Emilian, huh?”

He nodded once, taking a slow sip of his drink to avoid looking at her properly.

She didn’t question it. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, tilting her head slightly. “Alright, Emilian. What are you out drinking for?”

He considered lying again. Saying something easy, something normal. But the truth slipped out before he could think of anything else.

“I’m tired,” he said simply. “Needed a break from work.”

Her expression shifted slightly—not quite pity, but understanding. “Bad day?”

“Long day,” he corrected. “Long… few years, actually.”

That made her huff a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I know that feeling.” She took another sip, then rested her chin on her hand. “What do you do?”

He should have said something vague. Something non-committal. But the whisky was settling in now, loosening the grip on his thoughts, and the lie came out before he even knew why he was telling it.

“I’m a mechanic.”

It felt strange, saying it. Unfamiliar, but safe.

She hummed, tilting her head. “Huh. Thought you might be something like that.”

He frowned slightly. “Why?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. Just got the vibe.” Then she smirked. “Or maybe I saw the oil stains under your nails.”

His pulse jumped for a second before he realised she was joking. His hands were clean—too clean, probably, for someone who supposedly worked in garages all day—but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Must be a stressful job, if it’s got you drinking alone,” she added, watching him over her glass again.

He exhaled, glancing down at the whisky in his hand. “Yeah,” he said, and for the first time that night, it wasn’t a lie.

He rolled his glass between his fingers, watching the whisky catch the dim light. Then, without really thinking, he asked, “What about you? Why are you out this late?”

She exhaled through her nose, tipping her head back slightly. “Was walking home from a wake,” she said, matter-of-fact. “Then that bloke started following me, so I figured I’d use you.”

There was no shame in it, no hesitation. Just a casual admittance, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She took another sip of her drink, then smirked slightly. “There’s always some sad sod drinking alone somewhere.”

He let out a small laugh at that—barely more than a huff of breath, but it surprised him nonetheless.

“Lucky me, then,” he muttered, shaking his head.

She raised her glass slightly in mock toast.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The bar buzzed around them, low conversations, clinking glasses, the occasional burst of laughter from a table near the back.

Then he asked, “Who died?”

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t shift uncomfortably or drop her gaze.

“My dad.”

He blinked. “Shit.”

She shrugged, swirling the last of her drink.

“Sorry,” he said automatically, but even as the words left his mouth, he was already wondering—how would he feel if his dad died?

Would it be relief? Would it be grief? Would it be anything at all?

She must have seen something in his face because she let out a dry laugh. “Don’t apologise,” she said, tipping her glass towards him before downing the rest of it in one go. “He was a right old cunt.”

That made him snort before he could stop himself. He coughed, shaking his head as he took a sip of his own drink. “Christ.”

She grinned. “I mean, it’s true. Everyone was there, saying all this bollocks about what a great man he was, and I was just sat there thinking, what a load of shite.”

Max watched her, the way she spoke so bluntly, so freely. He tried to imagine standing at his own father’s funeral, people saying things about what a hard man he’d been, how much he’d sacrificed for his son, how proud he would have been.

He wasn’t sure he’d believe a word of it.

She leaned forward slightly, eyeing him. “Bet you weren’t expecting that answer.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “No. Can’t say I was.”

She smirked. “Well, you don’t look like the type to have a good relationship with your dad either, so…”

His grip tightened on his glass for half a second before he forced himself to relax. He didn’t reply.

She didn’t press.

Instead, she raised her empty glass, tilting it towards him. “Another?”

He should have said no. Should have left while he still had the sense to.

But he didn’t.

“Yeah,” he said, finishing the last of his whisky. “Go on, then.”

And just like that, he let himself sink a little further into the night.

The air was crisp as they walked, the quiet hum of the city settling around them. The streets weren’t quite empty—there were still a few late-night stragglers, people spilling out of pubs, voices carrying in the cool night—but it was calmer now, the chaos of earlier fading into something softer.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, tilting her head back slightly as she walked. “Where you staying, then?”

“One of the hotels by the track,” he said, not thinking much of it.

She let out a low whistle. “Bet that’s a nightmare with the F1 on. Must be packed. Loud as hell.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Something like that.”

She hadn’t connected the dots. Maybe it was the drinks, or maybe she just didn’t follow motorsport enough to care. Either way, he didn’t correct her.

They kept walking, neither of them in much of a rush to get anywhere. Her bus stop wasn’t far, but she didn’t break pace, didn’t cut the night short. Neither did he.

It was nice, in a way, walking with someone without expectation. Without small talk that felt forced or questions that felt intrusive. Just two strangers, filling the quiet.

Eventually, the bus stop came into view. She slowed, glancing up at the electronic sign before rocking back on her heels slightly.

“Well,” she said, turning to him, “this is me.”

He nodded. “Right.”

She looked at him for a moment, like she was considering something, then just smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Emilian.”

He let out a small breath of laughter. “Yeah. No worries.”

The bus pulled up, doors hissing open, but she didn’t move straight away. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, eyes scanning his face like she was trying to work something out. Then, without another word, she stepped onto the bus.

He didn’t ask for her number. She didn’t offer.

The doors shut, and he stood there for a moment, watching the bus pull away.

Then he turned and started walking back towards his hotel.

The night was still. The world felt quieter.

And for the first time in a long while, so did he.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @isaadore

682 notes · View notes

formula1au · 8 months ago

Text

lando norris x gf!reader social media au

summary: your social media while dating lando

1K notes · View notes

bestalbertcamuslover · 2 months ago

Text

Her Ex Got Engaged

↳ Masterlist

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing: Max Verstappen x GF! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: None✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

Almost two years had passed since the end of the longest relationship she had ever had. Six years that had introduced her to romantic love—and to romantic deception. She could still picture the subtle yet undeniable shift in his expression as she spoke animatedly about the future she envisioned for them. It wasn’t until much later that she realized that moment had been a warning, a quiet revelation that he did not see her in his.

She soon learned what a breakup truly felt like—the endless crying, the ache in her chest, the unbearable helplessness. Absolute hell.

Looking back, though, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the conversation that ended it all. Painful as it had been, it had given her the clarity she needed. It had hurt—stung far too much—to realize he had known for some time that she was not the one but hadn’t ended things sooner. She had spent too long wondering why. But perhaps, if he had, she wouldn’t be where she was now—with someone who loved her the way she deserved. And for that, she was grateful.

It was late morning, and as Max played with the cats beside her, she scrolled through Instagram stories to see what her friends and other people were up to. Clubbing, dinners, traveling, running—the usual things people posted. She would glance at each for just a second before swiping to the next. But then she stopped, her finger frozen on the screen as she stared, at one point almost vacantly, before tapping on the shared post.

Engaged. She stared blankly at the caption, the single word mocking her. After what—a year? He was already engaged to someone else? How? Max barely glanced at her phone at first, still focused on scratching behind the cat’s ears. But when he noticed the way she had suddenly stilled, eyes fixed on the screen, he leaned in slightly.

“Who’s that?” he asked, peering over her shoulder. “One of your friends?”

She blinked, hesitating a second too long. “Uh—”

Max smirked, nudging her playfully. “Tell me it’s not another wedding. I’m running out of excuses not to go.”

That earned a small, breathy laugh from her, but it wasn’t quite right—too forced. She locked her phone and placed it face-down beside her. “No wedding,” she said lightly. “Don’t worry.”

Max tilted his head. “Then why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”

“I don’t,” she said quickly. “It’s nothing.”

His smirk faded slightly as he studied her face. “It’s someone, though.”

She sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. “My ex,” she admitted. “He got engaged.”

Max’s expression didn’t change immediately. He just stared at her, then let out a quiet huh.

For a second, she thought maybe he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it. But then, with that signature bluntness of his, he asked,

“So why do you care?”

She turned her head sharply. “I don’t.”

Max gave her a look, eyes flicking to her phone. “You do.”

His eyes met hers again, piercing through her, almost imploring an answer. Why did she care? It had been two years. She was happy—with herself, with him, with her life in general. And yet, it felt like a hard punch to the stomach.

“I don’t know,” she sighed.

Max’s jaw tensed slightly, his fingers drumming against his knee as he studied her. He wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but something about this—about her reaction—itched at him in a way he didn’t like.

“You don’t know?” he echoed, his voice quieter now, but there was an edge to it.

She ran a hand through her hair. “I mean, it’s offensive,” she said, trying to explain. “That he just—engaged so fast.”

Max’s brow furrowed. “And that bothers you because…?”

She sighed. “Because it makes me wonder how long he knew I wasn’t the one.”

Max was quiet for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, in a tone sharper than before, he asked,

“And do you still care?”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“About him,” Max clarified, his expression unreadable. “Because you look like someone just punched you, and I don’t know why else you’d be this upset if you were actually over it.”

She blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Max, no—”

“Because if you’re not happy with me, you should tell me,” he continued, his voice still controlled. “If you still want him—”

“I don’t,” she cut him off, shaking her head firmly. “I swear, I don’t.”

He exhaled, looking away for a second, his fingers tightening into a fist before relaxing. “Then why?” His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. “Why does it feel like you’re still stuck in it?”

She opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come right away. It wasn’t about her ex, not really. It was about time, about the fact that she had spent years loving someone who hadn’t loved her back the same way. It was about realizing that she had been so blind to it.

But looking at Max now—his guarded expression, the slight clench of his jaw, the way his fingers twitched like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for her or pull away—she realized that he didn’t see it that way.

Her chest tightened.

She reached for his hand, curling her fingers around his. “Max, I’m happy, the happiest I’ve ever been,” she said, her voice softer now. “With you. I swear, I don’t want him back. I just—it caught me off guard. That’s all.”

His shoulders didn’t relax immediately, his thumb ghosting over her knuckles as he studied her face, searching for something.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and for all his bluntness, there was something vulnerable about the way he said it.

She squeezed his hand. “I’m sure.”

Max exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly like he was mad at himself for even thinking otherwise. Then, finally, he tugged her closer, his hand slipping to the nape of her neck as he rested his forehead against hers.

“I don’t like seeing you like that,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “And I really don’t like the thought of you still caring about him.”

She smiled, brushing her nose against his. “I don’t.”

His lips barely curved, but the tension in his body faded just slightly.

“Good,” he murmured before kissing her, slow and deliberate, like he was grounding himself in her. Like he was making sure she was here. With him.

Max pulled back just enough to look at her, his hand still cradling the nape of her neck. His expression had softened—still serious, but there was a hint of something else now. Something almost teasing.

“So,” he murmured, thumb brushing absently over her skin. “If you’re so bothered by him getting engaged, you wanna just… get engaged too?”

She blinked. “What?”

Max shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, why not? Even the score.”

She scoffed, shoving his shoulder. “Oh, now you want to propose, just to be petty?”

He chuckled, but there was a glint in his eyes, something more thoughtful than his usual teasing. “Maybe. I think we’d look better in engagement photos, anyway.”

She rolled her eyes while smiling.

Max smirked and leaned in again, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth before murmuring against her skin, “One day, though.”

Her breath hitched slightly.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his usual cocky demeanor softened by something undeniably genuine. “Not just to ‘even the score’ or whatever,” he added, his voice quieter now. “But because I want to.”

She swallowed, her heart skipping a beat at the certainty in his tone.

“One day,” she echoed, her lips curving slightly.

Max’s grin widened. “Good, and it will be a much fancier ring than that, okay?.”

She laughed, shaking her head as he pulled her into him again. “Okay.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3

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dreamauri · 1 month ago

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♪ — 𝗜𝗙 𝗜 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗘 max verstappen x fem! lawyer! reader (angst) fic summary . . . when max meets with a lawyer to try and fight back against the FIA for getting community service fines, he discovers he might have accidentally swapped dreams with someone (704 words)

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

The restaurant was dimly lit, the kind of place that was meant to look expensive without actually trying too hard. Max shifted in his seat, fingers drumming against the table as he watched you skim through the document in front of you, your brows slightly furrowed.

This was awkward.

He wasn’t sure what was worse—the fact that he had been fined for swearing in a press conference again or the fact that the FIA had thrown in community service hours like he was some reckless teenager caught speeding in a school zone.

Lando had laughed when he found out. "You’re gonna need a lawyer if you wanna fight back, mate," he had grinned, not even trying to hide his amusement. "I know someone. She’s brilliant. I’ll send you her number."

And now here you were, sitting across from him in a restaurant in Monaco, having driven over from Nice to help him deal with his punishment.

"So," you finally said, flipping the page. "Two hundred thousand euros and twenty-five hours of FIA-approved community service before December 31st."

Max exhaled through his nose. "I only said one bad word."

You looked up, amusement flickering across your face. "As soon as I went into qualifying I knew the car was fucked . . . Max, you swore at your own car."

"Because it was fucked." He reasoned, shrugging at the topic like it was the most obvious and normal thing.

You chuckled, shaking your head before jotting something down in your notes. Max watched, taking a sip of his gin toic, not quite sure what to say next. He wasn’t used to lawyers. He wasn’t used to needing lawyers.

"You know," he starts, voice low, almost swallowed by the hum of the piano in the background. "If my dad hadn't pushed me to stay in karting, I think I would've been a lawyer."

You huff a laugh, one that tastes like irony. "Yeah? If my parents hadn’t forced me to finish school and go into law, I think I would've been a driver."

Max blinked.

Your sour words made him look up from his glass. His blue eyes—fierce in every race replay you've ever forced yourself not to watch—are softer here, dimmed under the low lights of a restaurant that neither of you belong in. "Seriously?"

You nod, taking a sip. "Yeah. I wanted it. The speed, the competition, the whole thing. Wanted to move up into single-seaters, F1 eventually, you know? The dream. But my family . . .” You exhale. "They thought racing was a hobby. Law was the real future."

“I’m in Formula One,” Max stated, looking at you with his head tilted. He felt it was as if he stole your dream.

“I can see that, Max,” you chuckled, lifting the file the FiA had given him as proof.

Max leans back, shaking his head with a smirk that's more tired than amused. "Funny. My dad thought law was stupid. Racing was the real future."

The piano plays on, and neither of you say anything for a moment. It’s not awkward. Just . . . heavy. Like you're both listening to ghosts of the past, telling you how things should have been.

"You still watch?" he asks eventually, his voice careful.

You shrug. "Not really." A lie. You watched enough to know his career, his wins, the way he makes magic out of machinery. "You still read about law?"

His lips press together, considering. "Sometimes." A lie. You bet he still thinks about it when he reads contracts, when he argues with his team, when he wonders if he could've been just as ruthless in a courtroom as he is on a track.

"Do you ever think about it?" you ask. "If you'd had the choice?"

Max smiles then, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "All the time."

The music plays on. The waiter refills your glass. Outside, the world moves forward, fast as ever, like it never had to choose between two lives. But here, in this quiet little nowhere, you and Max sit with your what-ifs, sharing a quiet conversation about what to do moving forward and how to get rid of the fine and community service fine, the ghosts of who you could've been watch over your shoulders.

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thepitlanepress · 1 month ago

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PUT ME DOWN –

↳ max verstappen + gf!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: i come back from the dead!! jk lol the hiatus was good and it is nice being here but lets be fr i only came back for the fics. part 3 of the lando fic will be out soon !!

max is a stubborn man.

you know that. what you also know is that you're a stubborn girl.

so when you hurt your ankle on the stairs leaving some event you weren't paying attention to, you don't tell max, simply smiling through the pain and limping slightly, not wanting to bother max on his night.

the only problem was that max could tell something was off, turning to look at you every so often with a concerned look in his eyes as you made your way through the crowd of people, and whispering occasionally, "is everything alright?"

you tell him that you're fine and to stop worrying but again something about your act is off and max can clearly tell something is wrong.

so right then amidst the swarming crowd of fans and paparazzi he - gently - pulls you along, back into the building and away from the prying eyes of the public.

"what is wrong schat?" his voice is quiet and the dip between his brows only increases when you lower yourself onto the stairs trying not to wince.

"i knew something was up," he murmurs sitting down beside you. "what happened liefje?" he says wrapping an arm around your shoulders and rubbing softly.

"i fell on the stairs earlier, some asshole dropped an oyster on the floor and i slipped on it," you say grimacing and trying to lift your foot to see what the damage is.

max lets go and drops down a few steps then, gently lifting your dress up and inspecting your ankle. you wince when he touches it and he definitely has a frown on his face now.

"how did you manage to walk on this liefje? its purple."

"magic?" you try and joke to lighten the mood, but from the prominent concern on his face it didn't help much.

"yn, you can't walk on this," he says looking up at you from where he's crouched.

"but i have to, we have to get to the car," you say trying to shake his touch off, trying to ignore how how loving and gentle it is to stand up.

"i'll carry you."

"the car is like halfway down the hill! and there are too many people outside for you to carry me," you protest, but before you can get another word out he has scooped you into his arms and started towards the door. "max! put me down!" you squeal.

"no, i will not be putting you down until you're safely in that car okay? liefje, i love you, let me take care of you," he murmurs placing a kiss to your forehead and pushing the door open with his shoulder.

"i could say the same for you," you mutter rolling your eyes, knowing just how stubborn max can be after a tough race. he eventually caves though, for you. and only for you.

"thats an argument for another day," he chuckles as you round the corner and head straight into the crowd.

max true to his word, doesn't put you down until the car, fending off the invasive paparazzi and fans like he promised, careful not to hurt your foot anymore than it already is.

"see its not too bad letting me take care of you is it?" he smirks as he exits the larger crowd and now just dodges the few fews that wait for a glimpse of him, pressing a kiss onto your shoulder.

"i still vote you put me down."

"oh hush."

– comments, likes and reblogs appreciated !

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81pastrys · 22 days ago

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i'm so obsessed with the song 'freak' by doja cat lately and i've been thinking about if you write a story about it with max verstappen or oscar piastri 🙏

Freaky Secrets

Summary— After the 4th championship in a row, she shows him a side he’s never seen and they can’t rid of the high.

Warnings— smut ; car sex ; lingerie ; sub!Max for a bit ; dom!Max ; ties

A/N— oh I had fun writing this for sure

Max One Shots

Dividers @bernardsbendystraws @dollywons

Despite all the rumors, Max was quite vanilla in bed. I knew this, he knew this. He didn’t care, it was still mind blowing sex. For his 4th championship I couldn’t hold back.

I bought lingerie for the night and brought it to every race that he could’ve won, Las Vegas was not where I had planned to be wearing it but here we were. Walking the strip that was once a race track, looking for a club.

I sat on his lap in a round booth with a few other drivers. Max rested his hand on my thigh and my breath hitched. He knew I was going to congratulate him in private. He ran his hand up my dress and felt the Lacey material.

“What’s this schatje?” The nickname causing butterflies to form. He felt it more intricately and noticed it wasn’t just panties and a bra, but a full bodysuit.

“You’ll see.” I tease with a kiss to his cheek. That about disoriented him for a minute. Lando called his name and they went on the dance floor. Once he came back we were leaving. “So soon?” I ask.

“I’m in need of a congrats from you.” He whispered as we drive to the hotel not far off. We got to the room and he kissed me. Delicately like always. I pull back and lead him to the bed.

“Sit down champion.” I say seductively and his cheeks flush. I take off the silky dress I had partied in and he saw the lingerie in whole. “Like what you see?” I ask as he stares.

“Y-yeah.” He stutters. I start feeling up his body and taking off his clothes. His dick standing at attention. I smirk at him and he throws his head back on the bed.

“We’re going to try something new tonight, is that okay?” I ask. He picks his head up and looks at my eyes. I didn’t leave much room for argument.

“Like what?” Always full of questions. I shrug my shoulders in response and he lies back down. “Okay.” He sighs.

“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to Max.” I reassure him. I rub his thigh and he sits up to look down at me on my knees in between his legs. He holds my chin and kisses me.

“I’ll try anything new with you.” He stays sitting up and I stand up to kiss him. I crawl on top of him as we make out. I grab his hard cock and give it a few experimental strokes. He groans into my mouth and I smile. I grind on him with the lace done at the bottom.

“I’m going to be in charge.” I inform him. I grind on him, my arousal coating him. I leave the bed and open my suitcase to find silk ties that match the color of my lingerie.

“You’re going to use those for yourself right?” He asked. I shake my head no. He moves to the center of the bed and complies when I start tying his hands, licking my nipples as I lean over him. I moan and falter in my movements. “You’re a little freak you know that?” He smiled.

I giggle and finish tying his hands. “I can be your little freak, daddy.” I tease. His dick twitched at the nickname. “Maybe next time I can be tied up.” I whisper in his ear. I continue my grinding and he bucks his hips up.

“Fuck, you’re insane schatje.” He groaned. I kneel in between his legs and take off my jewelry, placing it neatly on the bedside. My arousal was enough for me to stroke him.

I lick the underside vein of his cock and he pulls the restraints. I finally take him in my mouth and suck, the way I know he likes. I take him all the way, gagging slightly but he groans. Once he was close and giving me telltale signs of an orgasm, I pulled off. Lazily stroking him. “Not yet.”

We’ve never had sex without a condom, too afraid of a pregnancy scare. With birth control and how cautious we are already, I decided one night won’t kill us. He doesn’t know that. I bring myself back up to him and kiss him. “Please fuck me.” He said breathlessly.

“Already begging for it?” I tease. I run his tip through my folds and he bites his bottom lip in anticipation. “Just for tonight, I waive the condom.” I say and kiss him.

“Fuck, please fuck me raw.” There’s the begging again. I line him up with me and slowly sink down, the pleasure overwhelming. Something we both haven’t experienced. “Fuck you’re so tight.” He groaned throwing his head against the pillows.

I took a minute to get used to his size and the feeling of him raw. I started slow, like we usually do. “How many times should we cum tonight?” I ask him slowly bouncing and grinding in his cock.

“4 fuck- 4 championships.” He groaned. I smirk at him and speed up my movements. I brought him close and he couldn’t even warn me before bucking his hips making me squeal. I kept him deep inside, feeling his warm cum filling me.

“Oh my god..” I moan out at the feeling. I take a minute. “That’s addicting.” I breathe out. We calm down and untie him. “I need you to fuck me, that was-fuck.” My mind couldn’t comprehend how good it felt.

He flipped us and took no time in matching my rhythm of rough. He hit all the right spots and made me see stars. “Who’s making you feel this way? Hm?” He asked. He’s never done dirty talk, but fuck it’s something.

“You.” I whine. That wasn’t enough, he gave me a harsh thrust and I screamed. “Max! Fuck!” He smirked and kept thrusting hard. I couldn’t warn him of my orgasm either as it came through harder than ever.

“You want me to fill you up again?” He whispered, still thrusting enough to let me ride out my high. “Make a mess for you to clean up?” I groan and he fills me again. This time it was much more euphoric.

“Fuck! Oh my god Max yes please.” He laid on my chest as we calmed down again. We finished the night after sharing 4 orgasms each.

That wasn’t the last time Max and I decided to be freaky, no. One night we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. My skirt riding up throughout the night, him pulling it down. We played a risky game of car sex, but it was raining so no one could tell we were the ones fogging up the Range Rover windows.

“Fuck!” I moan on his lap in the backseat. He held my hips and bounced me up and down on his cock. I had teased him and since we opened the rough sex part of our lives, we barely had vanilla sex. “I knew I never liked it simple.” I moan and kiss him hard.

“Yeah? You just never told me you could be a little freak.” His words sent me over the edge. “Used to be my innocent little good girl. Now look at you.” He spilled his load inside me and I moaned louder, throwing my head back. “Doing such bad things to me.” He slowly bounced me as we rode out the high and panted.

“I was never an innocent good girl Max, I just hadn’t had the balls to tell you how dirty I wanted it.” I admit in the Range Rover we had rented for the event.

The last bit was mainly for the song, but I tried to keep it up with the song SO

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