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𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖟𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 | 𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

summary: since donna had put you both in inventory, why not make put of it a date?

warning: probably my lack of inspo, sorreyy

a/n: requested! also this is really really really short! Hi there! Could you do a Steven Grant fic where he surprises you to a nice little date at the museum he works at and gives you a private tour of every exhibit? Thank you! @aspie-allie

not my gif!

.°•*♡

"oh and this is just my favorite exhibit of all the exhibits!" steven exclaimed as he squeezed your hand in his. he led you through the many paintings and small statues of the many gods and goddesses of egypt.

his eyes sparkled and he carried a toothy grin. he explained about what power each god and goddess held over egypt though the years and the love story between some of them. you didn't care about any of it really, you just care about the person who couldn't stop rambling about them.

the way his voice changed a few octaves with each explanation, or the way his eyes searched for something new you might find interesting, or the way his hair fell into his face and his attempt to move it out of the way, and maybe it was for the fact that he didn't let go of your hand. you didn't mind. not at all.

steven wasn't shy, he just wasnt fond of making the first move. so when the two of you started your own private little tour of the museum you took hold of his hand, and steven didn't let go. not even once.

"i'm rambling again, ain't i? i'm sorry y/n, i don't wanna spoil the night with my rambling," he told you, and he looked down scratching the back of his neck.

you were quick to take hold of his other hand, you squeezed it and he looked up at you.

"i would never get tired of your rambling, if it meant i get to stare at you, then please, by all means, ramble away."

steven chuckled and blushed. he nodded and looked around, "c'mon just 'round there is all the fun stuff."

steven pulled you along with him and you giggled, jogging after him still hand in hand. maybe it's cliche but what you were feeling for steven was like in every fairytale book your mother ever read to you.

maybe you just believed in crazy love.

𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 | 𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

summary: how could you possibly go to sleep when steven looks so so good wearing those glasses of his, nose deep in a book

warning: steven

a/n: just because i feel lonely i decided to write this. this is very very short but i hope y'all enjoy!

not my gif!

.°•*♡

convincing steven to come to bed wasn't going to happen. he was nose deep in his book for the past hour and a half only looking up briefly at you every fifteen minutes and shooting you a toothy grin. the affect this man had on you.

you weren't complaining about the sight though.

you could stare at steven in his glasses all night. the way his eyebrows furrowed when he read something, or the way his lips curved upward every five minutes. his curls falling in his face, his stubble was beginning to grow and that tired look did things to you.

steven looked good. too good.

"everything alright, honey?" he suddenly asked and you nodded, biting the tip of your finger.

"peachy," you smiled at him.

you sat up, "whatcha reading there?"

he chuckled, "try not to laugh at me," he arched an eyebrow at you and moved his glasses out of the way.

shaking your head you smiled at him.

"i'm reading about nefertari and ramses the great."

he's doing it again, talking about something only he knows and expecting you to magically know about it. he looked at you with those puppy dog eyes, and you just arched a brow motioning for him to continue.

"ramses had about two hundred wives but nefertari was his first true love. like he wrote poetry for her occasionally, he bought her everything and built stuff for her. he always spoke well of her," he looked at you and you smiled.

"he sounds like a real gentleman."

"yeah, but the two hundred wives is a bit much isn't it?"

you nodded. he looked down at his book again, "listen to this line he wrote on her chamber of her burial site, 'my love is unique - no one can rival her, for she is the most beautiful woman alive. just by passing, she has stolen my heart.' not to sound cheesy, my love, but you also stole my heart." he smiled.

you blushed and smiled, "well if i stole your heart why don't you come join me in bed."

steven stood up and placed his glasses on the desk along with his book. he climbed into bed pulling you into his chest. you placed your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat and breathing in his scent.

he brushed his fingers through your hair and kissed your forehead multiple times.

"i love you," he breathed.

"i love you, too."

.°•*♡

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 • 𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

summary: marc has been getting on steven's nerves and it doesn't help that his boss, donna, is biting his head off over everything.

warning: few curse words, marc being a asshole

a/n: requests open!

not my gif

. °.•*♡

potroast was in the oven. the apartment was clean, and y/n's boyfriend of three years is on his way home, and judging by the texts — he wasn't in a sunshine mood.

she looked at the clock, only five more minutes until she sees the love of her life. she scurried towards her—his closet, and picked out her favorite dress shirt. it hung around her frame like a dress. she undid her hair that was in a ponytail, falling in a wavy mess on her shoulders, she also got rid of the leggins she was wearing.

she heard keys jiggling in the lock and quietly she made her way towards the living room.

"it smells lovely in here, my love," his voice rang through the apartment. she poked her head around the corner, and smiled at him. she really took him in since she couldn't this morning.

he was running late, again.

he was wearing a blue dress shirt, black pants and his usual sneaker shoes. his hair was messy and the bags underneath his eyes was even possible more darker, and the bag he always carries was slung around the coat hanger.

their eyes connected and he smiled at her, "c'mere, sweetheart," he said and opened his arms. she walked towards him and he took in her appearance with a smirk on his face.

"i love it when you wear my clothes."

"i love wearing your clothes," she smiled and gave him a kiss. she grabbed his hand and led him towards the kitchen, pouring him a cup of coffee and making him sit down.

"need any help, darlin'?" he asked.

"you're helping me just sitting there and looking pretty," she told him and as she walked passed him she kissed his cheek. she set the table and took the potroast out of the oven.

steven dished for them and they digged in. y/n took ahold of his hand and rubbed her thumb pad over his knuckles.

"how was work?"

he sighed and shook his head, "it's as if donna is doing it on purpose. she's always sitting on my head, oh and marc isn't any better. the bugger won't shut up!"

hey! i can hear you y'know.

"oh shut up!"

y/n couldn't help the giggle that slipped passed her lips. and steven only smiled and shook his head at her. gosh he loved her.

once they were done eating steven volunteered to do the dishes and y/n sat at the table just watching him. she couldn't help the smile that made its way to her lips. the way her eyes observed every inch if him. she adored him. every broken part of him.

"i know, i got a fantastic ass," steven said as he looked at her watching him. she scoffed.

"you wish grant."

he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, his hands firmly placing themselves on her hips. "is that jealousy i hear?"

she shook her head and bit her lip. but steven only smirked at her and nodded his head.

"i never thought you'd be the jealous type, my love."

she hit his chest, "oh shut up, you div."

he laughed at her antiques. he cupped her cheeks and kissed her. she kissed back and leaned more into steven. he grabbed her under her thighs and lifted her unto the counter so that he was standing between her legs. she pulled away, the need for air becoming necessary.

y/n weaved her fingers though his messy curls loving the way it bounced back.

it was steven's turn to stare at her now. he was madly in love with her the second she walked into the museum, but once they started talking she missed the tour completely. not that she minded though.

"i know, i've got an freakishly attractive face," she told him and he chuckled.

"marry me," he softly said. he looked at her with a smile, her own making its way unto her face.

"marry me, and let's spend the rest of our lives together. maybe we can run away, only us," he told her with a smile.

and me.

"and marc."

she laughed, and nodded her head.

"c'mon sweetheart, lemme hear you say it."

"yes i'll marry you, and run away with you."

. °.•*♡

my mom: there's absolutely nothing wrong with my child

me: *getting emotionally attached and obsessed with fictional characters*

love me harder | m. verstappen

hypothesis - max is on the brink of losing you. however, after a fatal accident…

pairing - max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

[fic is inspired by “love me harder” by ariana grande ft. the weeknd

“baby, in the moment, you’ll know this is, something bigger than us and beyond bliss”

“could you just look at me?” you yelled as max just kept walking a few steps ahead of you.

“can’t. race is about to start.”

stepping into a quicker pace you place yourself in front of max and the garage door, “when was the last time you told me you loved me?”

your eyes searched his face, desperately trying to find a glimpse of the max that you knew, the max you fell in love with, the max you married. the hand you placed on his chest, you could feel the steady rhythmic thump of his heart.

“you really want to do this now?”

“yes! i never see you anymore!”

max scoffed, eyes rolling as he looked back down at his phone, “sorry that i’m busy.”

your hand fell back to your side, “i’m busy too max, yet i still try.”

he nodded his head, eyes not lifting from the rectangular square. you sighed, your hands landing on your hips. is this what you’ve become now?

“is our marriage still worth fighting for, max?”

he looked up. eyes piercing through yours. you cannot believe the words just left your mouth, but it felt relieving to finally utter the words that has been haunting you for weeks.

“i’m not doing this with you right now, y/n,” max steps around you, “good luck with your race.”

~~

it was a millisecond.

you missed the turn by a millisecond and hamilton came crashing into you, sending your right wing and two tires flying. the car skidding across the track and landed upside down.

the force of the impact shoved your head against the steering wheel, hard, bouncing back against the seat.

damage had been done. to you and your car.

to lewis’ as well.

unbeknownst to max, who was in the lead, adrenaline coursing though his veins at the thought of his fourth podium for the season.

he was thriving, the car succumbing to his every command. the engine roaring sending shivers throughout his whole body.

the grin on his face turned devilish. he’s so close.

“max,” christians voice in his ears broke his train of thought, but his eyes never once lost sight of the track in front of him.

“the car’s doing great, no need to worry. podium is secure,” max declared excitingly. he took the turn, groaning at the strain it took on his body.

“though, sainz is on my tail the whole fucking time.”

christian sighed, not at all what max had expected, but he couldn’t be bothered by his team principal’s pms at the moment.

“max, there was a crash.”

another turn, another groan.

sainz could be spotted in max’ peripheral vision. he pushed the car harder, engine roaring, sending max flying away from carlos.

“who crashed?” he asked as he fiddled with the buttons on the wheel, checking if everything is still steady. he has at least seven more laps to go.

“y/n.”

dead silent.

heavy thick as your name registered in his mind. the grin that has been on his face had been wiped down. his lips sticking to his teeth.

“max?” christian asked, waiting a few moments. there was no response from the dutch.

he felt as if his body went numb, limb for limb. his arms felt wonky - not like the grip he had on the wheel mere moments ago. his breathing became shallow, his lungs struggling to capture enough oxygen, his brain malfunctioning.

next thing he knew he was crashing into sandbags.

the impact knocking sense back into him. sand dust flying everywhere.

“max!” christian exclaimed, “are you injured?”

“how’s she? is she alive?” max frantically asked. you didn’t have a choice - you had to be alright. you couldn’t be hurt, max would loose his head if you where. who crashed into you? how hard was the impact?

max got out of the car, “christian, fucking answer me!”

the line was silent for a couple of moments, “she’s stable. unconscious, but stable. no further news yet. she has been rushed to the ER.”

cars blasted past him, deafening noise drumming his ears.

“i need to get to her.”

“max, the race -“

“fuck the race, that’s my fucking wife!”

~

the doors of the ER bursted open, a very sweaty, and breathless max stood there, his eyes frantically looking around for anyone who could assist him.

he still had his suit on, christian hot on his trail.

“y/n, i need to know where y/n verstappen is,” he asked, accent thick as he slapped his hands on the receptionist desk.

she looked up at him, “any relation?”

max scoffed, “my wife.”

her fingers made quick work on the keyboard, “your wife is in surgery.”

max’ shoulders slumped and christian took hold of it, shooting a quick thanks to the nurse and led him in another direction. he swiped his hands though his hair, pulling at it, feeling his frustration grow and bubble at the bottom of his throat.

he could scream.

max paced the hallway, up and down. maybe minutes - maybe hours. he didn’t know. all he did know was that he’s staying.

why didn’t he tell you he loved you. with every fibre of his being he loved you. he craved you, constantly. the thought of you was all that he needed to survive - but knowing that you were his wife, made him whole.

you were the person who stood by him whilst he was working through his troubles with his father. on the nights when fear surrounded him, the comforting hand of you, his wife, brought him peace. on the days when he was on his happiest, it was on the days he spent with you.

you made him. you showed him to be max verstappen.

his wife.

~~

news spread around the paddock, like a wild fire. sky sport tv airing out to fans and viewers to keep you in their prayers and thoughts.

some of your and max’ closest friends took off straight away to the hospital, supporting max even though he didn’t even acknowledge them.

they were still there.

an apology from lewis was sent out world wide, and he even made an appearance to max, but the dutch only glared at him, taking hold of his collar, making his friends jump and take hold of max.

“if she doesn’t make it out of here, you’ll regret ever setting foot on a paddock again. i’ll kill you.”

his voice was icy as he spat the words at lewis, baring his teeth. daniel stepped in between the two and pushed max back by his chest.

max’ eyes never left lewis’ retreating from.

~~

“verstappen, y/n.”

max was in front of the doctor in a second, his eyes pleading his for good news. the doctor smiled at him and gave him what he was searching for.

“she’s asleep, but she’s an extreme fighter. you’ve got no worries, mr verstappen.”

he swore he could cry.

the doctor told him the room you were in and max wasted no time rushing towards it.

he searched the numbers above the doors for room one-o-one. his number. a bit of pride bursting in his chest, fate really had put you two together.

max stepped into the room and his heart broke.

machines connected to your heart, the beeping sound being the only indication that you are in fact alive. various cuts and bruises formed along your face. a neck brace adorned. oxygen mask on your beautiful face.

max stifled a sob as he crashed into a seat near your bed, scooting closer and taking hold of your hand. his thumb drawing patterns on your knuckles.

even in your unconscious mind your body still knew that it was your max, the heart monitor speeding up slightly.

it caused him to chuckle, “mijn schatje, mijn alles, i am so sorry. this should’ve never happened to you.”

he squeezed your palm, pressing a tender kiss to the flesh, “fight, stay strong for me, yeah? so that i can love you right this time.”

~~

a gentle knock at the door roused max from his sleep. his hand was still tucked in yours.

max turned towards the door, lando stood there.

a soft smile on his face with a gym bag in his hand, “mate, i brought you some clothes - the suit can not be comfortable.”

he chuckled and motioned for his muppet friend to come in. lando placed the bag by the door and walked closer to stand next to max. he placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“how’s the missus?”

max looked at you, a lump the size of a bull frog lodged itself in his throat, “she’s good, doc said she’s a real fighter.”

“she is a verstappen, ey?” lando nudged max’ shoulder who just chuckled in response. he felt guilty, ashamed, contrast to who he was. he shouldn’t have had to treat his wife like shit. you just wanted to know he loves you.

“look, mate, don’t beat yourself up about what happend, see this as a new beginning.”

max nodded, “she just wanted me to say that i love her. shit, i should’ve just said it to her. the crash-“

“is not your fault, you couldn’t have possibly predicted an accident to happen.”

he shook his head and looked at the bag by the door, “i’m going to change, would you mind maybe staying here. i don’t want to leave her alone.”

“yeah, of course mate.”

~~

two weeks later

“don’t strain yourself so much, schat,” max’ voice was gentle as he looked at your from his seat on the couch. within mere moments he stood in front of you, large palms pressed to your hips to help you walk the last few remaining steps.

this last couple of weeks changed. your marriage changed. max changed.

he was waiting on you hand and foot, even though you have told him multiple times that certain things you can do on your own, he still insisted.

the one noticeable change for yourself and everyone surrounding you was the fact that max openly, whenever he got the chance told you he loved you.

whether it be when you’re making dinner, doing dishes, walking beside him on the paddock - he’d say he loves you with a kiss pressed to your temple. it was and still is absolute bliss.

your recovery went by fast, splendid as your doctor had put it. with time and patience, he said, you’d be back on the track in no time.

when your socked feet took the last step, max couldn’t help the face splitting grin that adorned his face.

“look at you go, speedy,” he smiled as he took hold of your head and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. speedy. the nickname max had dubbed you the moment you overtook him when you first met.

speedy. the nickname max had dubbed you the moment you stole his heart.

speedy. the nickname max had used in his vows the moment you took his last name.

max made sure that you didn’t strain yourself too much in the recovery process, he treated you like you were his fine china, bubble wrapping your heart and by God, swearing that he’d never let his actions and words ever hurt you again.

he poured so much love into you. you practically glowed in comparison to when the argument had occurred.

his love.

his wife.

max made sure you knew how much he adored you, loved you, craved you.

“ik hou van je, mijn schat.”

and you knew he did.

fin.

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 | 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫

pairing: marc spector x fem!reader

summary: you rarely fought, but when you did it got pretty bad.

warning: angst that turns into fluff

a/n: requests are open!

not my gif!

.°•*♡

you rarely fought, but when you did, it got pretty bad. hurtful things were being said left and right and that meant marc left the apartment fuming and you with a broken heart.

tonight was one of the nights where a fight was inevitable. marc stumbled into the apartment and an unholy hour of the night, he was beaten up and bruised and he didn't even bother to tell you how or where it had happened. he simply brushed off your questions and made his way into the bathroom.

"marc, would you just answer me!"

he grumbled and took off his shirt exposing a big scar that went from his ribs near to his navel. taking out the first aid kid that was under the sink; he grabbed some cotton and rubbing alcohol. hissing at the pain you looked away.

"what happened?" you tried again but still no answer. "marc, please i'm worried about you."

"then stop!" he hissed at you and slammed the bathroom door in your face. you gulped down the lump that was forming in your throat and walked away from the door.

you went into the kitchen and boiled some hot water, taking a mug out of the cupboard and a teabag of one of marc's favorite tea. after the water boiled you poured it into the mug and left it on the table. you also took his food out of the oven and placed it next to the tea with a fork and a knife.

when you were done you made your way into the bedroom, taking off the clothes from the day before and putting on one of marc's shirts and sweats, you also grabbed a pillow and a blanket from the linen closet making your way to the guest bedroom.

you heard marc move around in the kitchen, then you heard his plate being put in the sink, then you heard his footsteps going past the guest bedroom into the bedroom, then quickly turning around and coming to the guest bedroom.

he knocked softly, you probably wouldn't have heard it if you weren't focusing on every move he made. when you didn't answer he opened the door and leaned against the door frame.

"i know you're awake," he said but you only turned your back towards him. you didn't want to fight with him. you just cared about him. you just worried about him. all you wanted was an explanation.

marc moved towards the bed and sat down at the foot of the bed. "can you please come back to bed?"

no response.

"i'm sorry i lashed out on you."

again, no response.

"i know you worry about me, and i know i don't always appreciate it, but i do, i really do," he told you, rubbing a hand up and down your leg. he hoped that would pull something out of you but it didn't.

your eyes brimmed with tears, "honey, please. i'm sorry."

you only nodded. he climbed in behind you, pulling you flat against his chest. he kissed your shoulder to where your shoulder and neck connected and then behind your ear.

"i'm sorry," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear.

you turned around, "i care about you, i worry about you and i love you so much that if i lost you without knowing where or how it happened i wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"i know honey, i'm sorry. i'll try to be better at communicating with you."

you nodded, your thumb running over his cheek bone and light stuble. marc kissed your palm and then pulled you in to kiss your lips.

"i love you too," he said between kisses.

you smiled, "we can go back to bed now, it's kinda uncomfortable on a twin size bed."

marc chuckled and stood up taking your hand and leading you to the bedroom.