Max Verstappen X You - Tumblr Posts

✯ 𝑺𝑶𝑪𝑰𝑨𝑳 𝑴𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑨

we met because you didn't understand the language | m. verstappen

max verstappen x fem! ex kpop idol! reader

faceclaim: seo soojin*

summary: max moves out of monaco after breaking up with kelly and goes to a new destination where he would meet an ex (not so ex anymore) idol that would changed his life.

a/n: hi. my first language is spanish, not english, so there are most likely spelling errors. if you like it, please tell me so i can keep writing things like this. also this probably will have several parts idk.

warnings: use of the translator for the korean, mention of j*s verstappen (cause that man needs a warning himself).

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, charlesleclerc and 935,184 others

maxverstappen1: goodbye monaco you have such nice moments on my mind. i'll see you again at the monaco grand prix.

view all 638,108 comments

charlesleclerc: bon voyage mate! 👋

↳ maxverstappen1: thanks charles

↳ username: LESTAPPEN!!

↳ charlesleclerc: no.

↳ maxverstappen1: no.

username: 'goodbye monaco' he's leaving?

↳ username: seems like it

↳ username: i would leave too if i had too much memories with my ex girlfriend there

danielricciardo: i can't believe I had to found out this way man 😑

↳ danielricciardo: just wherever you're going don't die there

↳ christianhorner: be safe, you still have a contract till 2028, max

username1: @/christianhorner you should not remind your son he still has a contract. 🤷

↳ username: max is not horner's son

↳ username: i know but horner seems more like a dad to max that j*s

landonorris: see you soon mate 🙂

maxverstappen1 liked this comment

yourusername

liked by yourfriend and 189,385 others

yourusername: 또 만나 네요 :) we meet again :)

view all 463,167 comments

username: y/n!!!!

yourfriend: 괜찮아서 다행이야 glad to see you're okay

username: MOTHER IS BACK!!!

username: we missed youu 😭😭

username: she looks beautiful

username: does this mean she will debut again?

↳ username: i hope so

↳ username: i don't think so

↳ username: yeah i think that in korea her scandal still is something bad

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, christianhorner, charlesleclerc and 653,167 others

maxverstappen1: hello japan, i hope you have good intentions with me.

view all 367,482 comments

username: JAPAN⁉️

username: does he even know japanese?? 🤔

danielricciardo: amazing pic man!

↳ maxverstappen1: i'll thank the photographer

↳ username: EXCUSE ME??

↳ username: HE'S NOT ALONE??

↳ username: perhaps he met someone fron there

username: that looks like the chill part of tokyo

↳ username: nah it looks more like nagoya

↳ username: hold on where's nagoya??

↳ username: it's like hour and a half away from the suzuka circuit

yourusername

liked by yourfriend, em1lian and 983,027 others

yourusername: new city, new me

view all 102,152 comments

username: am i crazy or is the 3rd pic the same one max verstappen recently posted???

↳ username: who?

↳ username: a formula one redbull driver

username: mother and that vroom vroom guy 🤔

↳ username: NO.

↳ username: am i the only who kinda ships them? 🤨🤭

↳ username: probably yes

username: em1lian like max emilian verstappen??

↳ username: you right now:

a/n 1: I FINALLY GOT TO POST THIS! (honestly i forgot it was on my drafts). I used the woman who pulled me into kpop CAUSE SHE'S ICONIC AND SOOO MOTHER!! Her name is SEO SOOJIN, right now she's a soloist (she used to be on a girl group), she has a beautiful voice and she's an amazing dancer. If you like go check her out on Spotify or wherever you want.

a/n 2: is most likely that there's gonna be a second part, i don't now when am i gonna post it *cough start writing it cough* but i'll try.

That's all thanks for reading :) likes, reblogs and comments are always apreciated <3

secrets we keep (pt1) → mv1

max verstappen x perez!fem reader

genre: one night stand, teammates sister, pregnancy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight spit play, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 3.1k

song: too sweet - hozier

sidenote: hi everyone! finally a new fic is here and it's a max one! this is going to be a two parter, so keep an eye out for the next one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers), also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

♡♡♡♡

The roars of the crowd were loud as Max crossed the finish line, followed closely by Sergio. For a second there you had thought your brother would overtake the world champion, but nonetheless he fought hard and gave the team what they wanted, a 1-2 finish. 

It wasn’t often you got to go to your brother's races, maybe only a handful a year but you were lucky to be able to get the time off to join your niece and nephews for the Japanese Grand Prix. Sergio would topple over if he knew you had the hots for his teammate. Every time you have met with Max, it’s been very cordial. Polite hellos, asking how life in Mexico is, what you have been up to since he last saw you. 

A part of you wondered why he was so timid with you. Was it because of Sergio? Being the baby of the family left him feeling protective of you, but you don’t think that would affect how Max interacted with you. I mean you barely saw him. 

Watching the pair on the podium set tears in your eyes. You were extremely proud of your big brother and his teammate. 

Your dad absolutely adored max and had invited him to join us for a celebratory dinner after the race. Which to your surprise he happily accepted. 

You were staying at the same hotel that both the bulls were at, so reconnecting for dinner would not be difficult. After the race you decided to head back to freshen up and change your clothes into something a little more fancy. At the race you were wearing a white tennis skirt with a red bull polo tucked in. For dinner you decided to wear a  black  over the shoulder dress that fit you perfectly. Finally ready you walk down and see that only Max is waiting in the lobby. Your stomach turns at the thought of being alone with him.

Picking his head up from looking down at his phone he notices you walking toward him and waves shyly. “Hi y/n, looks like it’s only us ready” he said in a tiny voice. You are always so used to him being outspoken it kinda scares you a little. “hi maxie, you know how my family is with time management, they should be down here soon” you said with a laugh, not even acknowledging the nickname that slipped from your mouth. 

A sudden tinge of pink washes over Max’s cheeks and you feel heat radiating up your neck. Act cool, you keep telling yourself but you are so nervous. Max was all you ever wanted in a guy. Handsome, sweet, confident, the list could go on. You knew deep down though your worlds would never clash well. You lived in Mexico with your parents - working as a teacher. Max lived in Monaco and raced for one of the best teams in formula one history, surrounded by models throwing themselves at him. You couldn’t blame them, you would do the same, if you thought you ever had a chance. 

“No worries, I always have to wait for Checo to come to our team meetings” he laughed. “I bet, if there’s one thing my brother isn’t know for it’s being on time, thank you for coming to dinner with us though, we really appreciate it, I know my dad and brother do a lot”

With a smirk on his face something shifts “oh just your dad and brother, not you?”. You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs, just as you are about to open your mouth to respond, tiny roars make notice in the room and you almost fall at your nephew running to you, so you could pick him up. Silently you thank your nephew for the interruption. 

Dinner goes smoothly. You sat at the opposite end of the table with the kids, while your brother, dad, and max were deep in conversation. You swore that Max kept looking at you though, sneaking glances. 

As the check gets situated, all of you make your way out onto the busy streets of Japan. You hear your brother speak up “Y/N are you gonna come get ice cream with us” and while you were deeply contemplating it, you decided to pass up the offer and head back to the hotel. 

“No I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel and pack, I want to take the kids to get breakfast tomorrow morning before we leave” you say.

“no puedes caminar solo es tarde en la noche” (you can't walk alone, it's late at night) your brother worries. 

“Sergio, I'm fine, it's not that far from the hotel, I'll grab a taxi” before he could protest, Max jumped in.

“I can take a taxi back with y/n, I'm super tired after the race, and I'll make sure she makes it to her hotel room” 

“Are you sure Max?” Sergio asks.

“Yes I'm sure, it was a lovely evening, thank you for inviting me” 

Your family bids their farewells and walks away, leaving just the two of you waiting for a taxi. As you guys are picked up, you both don't say a word in the car, sitting in an uncomfortable silence. Max pays the driver and you thank him quietly. Making your way up to the floor where both of your rooms are, you stop at his first. “Thank you for bringing me back Max, I appreciate it” 

“Of course it's no problem, hey I'm actually not really that tired, do you wanna play Fifa or watch a movie?” he asks. Something deep down is telling you to decline. Spending time with him is just going to dig you deeper in a hole with how you feel about him, nonetheless, you can't let this opportunity go and accept this offer. 

Walking in you notice the room is ten times bigger than yours, with a balcony and jacuzzi tub in the middle of the bathroom. Max must notice your awe because he says “I don't know why they give us such big rooms, we are hardly ever even in here”

“Haha it's nice for Checo because the kids get to play around” 

“You are really close with them, aren't you?”

“They are practically my own, when their mom is out doing business I usually keep them, I also help homeschool them” 

“Well that's very sweet of you” he says while taking a seat on the bed, while motioning you to do the same.

“Do you want something to drink” he offers

“No I'm okay” you politely decline. You still can't believe this, you are in Max Verstappen's room all alone. 

“Okay let's put on a movie! What are you up for, should we do action” you sense a sudden shift in his mood, you can't quite place it, maybe excitement. You believe he can probably sense that you are nervous. The mention of action makes your ears perk up.“Can we please watch fast and the furious, I am on a mission to have all my friends watch it”

Max doesn't protest, just laughs quietly and nods, setting the movie in place. You make yourself comfortable and take off your big hoop earrings and heels- even though they werent big by any means they still hurt you. Once you are back in bed with him, you notice him looking at you.

“Is there something on my face?” You laugh

“No i just guess I never noticed how different but similar you look from checo”

“Really? How so?” You question

“Well for one, you are very pretty, but you have the same freckles that Checo does covering your cheeks and nose” Max’s comment has you feeling shy, you know you must be sporting a prominent blush across your face and neck. 

“well thank you Max, it's funny because growing up, i never had freckles, but i think being out in the sun for races and the kids karting tournaments have really brought them to surface” 

“That's interesting, I admire how close to your family you are, something I wish I had” he says so quietly you almost miss it. You don't know what possesses you to do this but you place your hand over his and say “you are always welcome in this family max, we all love you, and no matter where sergio goes next year- you will always be welcomed with open arms” 

He stares at you with a blank face- unable to tell what he's thinking you begin to think that was the wrong thing to say when suddenly he leans down a plants a gentle kiss over your lips. You gasp at the touch. Max pulls back with wide eyes and says “shit I shouldn't have done that, Checo will kill me if he found out”. Instead of agreeing with him, you keep your hand held tightly over his and whisper “he doesn't have to know”. That's all it seems to take for max to lean back in and start kissing you. 

You grab the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric in your hands. His palm cups your jaw, slowly deepening the kiss. Once his tongue makes his way in, you let out a quiet moan. 

Grabbing your hips, Max shifts your position so that you are laying on the bed while he towers over you. “You are so pretty y/n, been wanting to do this forever” he says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While you want to pour your heart out, your nerves stop you and all you can do is nod and say “want you so bad max”. 

He continues to kiss you, tracing his mouth up and down your neck and along the junction between your shoulder and neck placing feather-like kisses. There’s nothing more that you want then for him to leave a big bruise plastered for everyone to see but you knew that wasn’t possible. 

You grab his head and place your lips back on his. Moving his hand to your hair he grips it tightly, keeping you in his control. Slowly he rocks his hips down to meet yours, creating a union of moans to spill from the both of you. This must be the breaking point for max because he stops to take off his shirt and grabs your dress to do the same. Not before asking “is this okay”. 

“Of course it’s okay, I want all of you” you whisper out. His pants also come off in the process. Both of you left in your underwear. You could feel yourself soaked through your panties. Max moves his hand so that his thumb is slowly running along your slit through the fabric. A moan is pushed out of you with a quiet plea of more. 

Growing impatient you tug the straps of your bra down your shoulders exposing your breasts to him. This catches his attention because Max is on them immediately. Sucking and kissing them, basically worshiping them. “Fuck, these tits are perfect. They were practically popping out of your dress earlier, wanted to take you to the bathroom at the restaurant and just suck on them for hours” 

You would have never guessed Max to be into dirty talk but it’s a pleasant surprise. “I want you in me Max, please, I’ve been waiting for this” 

“How can I deny such a pretty girl? '' With that being said, Max gets up and walks to his bag to pull out what seems to be a condom. While he’s doing that, you shimmy your underwear down your legs and throw it somewhere in the room. Before he approaches the bed, Max takes his underwear off and you see his cock spring free. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight. He’s big, just like you thought he would be. Pale and veiny. Pink and wet at the tip.

You wanted him in you but not before you got a taste of him. You motion him up towards your mouth, so that his legs are on both sides of your shoulders. “I want to taste you, can I Max?” You said hoping your voice and eyes truly show the desire you have burning for him. 

“Go ahead sweetie, suck me off”

That’s all you needed to hear before taking the tip in your mouth, lightly sucking. Max groans at the sensation and places a hand behind your head for support. Popping yourself off the tip, you lick a long strip under his shaft, following the prominent vein that lies there. You place feather-like kisses on the head hoping to tease him. As you look up at him, you see his mouth slightly agape, eyes stuck on you. “Don't tease me baby, c'mon”.

You start to bob your head, up and down, making sure you move your tongue back and forth. You palm at his balls and hear a hiss, thinking he must be sensitive. 

“Fuck, you suck me off so good, this mouth was made for me, wasn't it y/n” 

You whimper at the words and try to push yourself further down his cock. Grabbing your head, he pulls you off and says “I need to get in you”. 

You nod your head fast and practically beg “please Max, please want you in me”.

As he positioned himself between your legs, he's looking directly at your core, you start to feel a bit insecure and try to close your legs, but he uses both his to keep them open. “You have such a pretty pussy, want to absolutely devour it” what he does next has you almost combust. He hovers his mouth over your core and lets a string of spit come done to coat you. Taking his index and middle finger he holds you open and lets another drop of spit fall on you. You are moaning so loud, you place your hand over your mouth to try and keep yourself quiet. 

Max places two fingers in you while simultaneously rubbing slow circles over your clit. You are desperate for him to get in you. “Max I'm good, you can get in me”.

That's all he needs to hear before he puts his condom on and sinks into you. The burn is unlike anything you have felt before. You were definitely not used to his size but the stretch was addicting. As he builds up pace, you place your hands over his back, your fingernails gripping onto his shoulders, it feels so so good. “Faster” you whisper. Max listens. You could already feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, what pushes you over the edge is Max’s dirty talk. “You wrap around me so good, best pussy I've ever had, what would people think if they saw my roommate's sister coming all over my cock” you can't respond, all you can do is moan.

Finally catching your breath you say “you feel so good Max, you are gonna make me cum” and you tuck your head into his neck licking a fat stripe near his Adams apple. “I'm gonna come too, come with me y/n”.

The next couple of minutes go by in a blur, you feel yourself clenching on his cock, cumming while he pumps in and out of you with his hand rubbing at your clit. He kisses you hard as he groans into your mouth. “Fuck that was good” he states and all you can do is nod. 

Max takes off his condom, and goes to the bathroom, returning in his underwear, with a warm washcloth. You feel embarrassed but you let him clean you up. You are left undressed so you ask if he could hand you your dress. The room is filled with an awkward tension. Max can tell because he lays down on the bed and pats it for you to lay with him. 

You feel like you should decline and be on your way, not wanting to overstay your welcome. But you genuinely don't think this will ever happen again and want to cherish what little time you have in the same proximity.  You lay with your head on his chest and his arm thrown over you with the tv playing in the background. Time passes quickly and within 30 minutes you hear soft snores coming out of max. You take this as your cue to leave. You slip yourself away and gather your belongings. Taking one last glance at him you smile and quietly make your way out of the room. 

You don't have a lot of time to reflect once you get back to your room because you have to shower, and pack for your flight in the morning. You don't know if you and Max will ever reconnect like that, but you are grateful for the time you shared. 

You don't see or hear from Max before you leave Japan, but maybe it's for the best. Your brother didn't expect anything and you are determined to keep it that way. 

The first couple of weeks back in Mexico were rough, slowly recovering from your trip. Around 6 weeks after being home and two more grand prix taking place, you feel sick, like a stomach bug has really knocked you down. It was so bad that you weren't able to go to the Miami gp like you wanted. 

Deciding it has been lingering for far too long you decide to go to the doctor. The first thing they ask you is if it's possible if you are pregnant. Your first thought is no, but you remember you and Max had hooked up around two months ago. You feel a pit in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up. You couldn't be right, he wore a condom, and you hadn't had sex for like a year prior to that. 

After you take your pee test, you have never been more scared or felt more alone. You want your mom here. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in with a smile and sat down. “Congratulations y/n you are pregnant”. The world came to a stand still and all you can do is cry. 

Because how in the hell are you going to tell your brother you are pregnant with his teammate's baby. How are you going to tell Max that you are pregnant? 

Simple. You won't. 

secrets we keep (pt2) → mv1

max verstappen x perez!fem reader

genre: teammates sister, pregnancy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (female receiving), p in v, slight possessiveness, dirty talk, pregnancy, childbirth (brief), slight angst?, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 6.4k

song: coraźon sin cara-prince royce

sidenote: omg!! finally after 2 monthes i am finally done with part 2 of secrets we keep. this is the last part of the series but if you guys want i could do an epilogue, let me know what yall think. also thank you so so so much for all the positive feedback on this story, you are all amazing. please send in requests and i will do them to the best of my ability! also like true me fastion this is not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

you can read part one here

♡♡♡♡

It's been three months since you first found out about the baby. You haven't told anyone. Trying your best to hide your newly growing bump. Even though you were scared, you knew you wanted to keep the baby. Even if you had to pack up and leave everything behind, this baby was yours and you were going to be their mom. 

It wasn't hard keeping this a secret from your brother, he was halfway across the world but your mom and dad on the other hand were difficult. As time went on you felt as if you couldn't keep it a secret from anyone. You felt alone, you had to go to all your doctors appointments by yourself and it was scary. 

You wanted to showcase your pregnancy, wanted a baby shower, to wear long flowy dresses that pronounced your bump. You wanted to start decorating a nursery for the baby. You couldn't do that alone, you needed to tell someone. You needed to tell your mom. But that meant telling them that you would be a single parent. Not that there's anything wrong with that but you know that's not what your family envisioned for you. You couldn't keep doing this alone though. You are about to find out the sex of the baby and you want your whole family to be there.

Making your way to your parents house, you see your brother's car in the driveway. You don't panic right away because you assume it's carola bringing the kids over to visit. When you walked in you shouted “mamá estoy en casa” mom I'm home. You miss living with them but you visit almost every other day, so really it's like you never left. 

Walking through the house you hear no-one, but as you make your way through the kitchen to the back patio you see your brother. “Ay dios mio” oh my god, you scream and practically run into Sergio’s arms. 

“Hola hermanita” hi baby sister, he says while hugging you back. You blame it on the pregnancy hormones but you start crying. “Hey, qué pasa?” What's wrong? He asked in a worried tone. You don’t know what overcame you but you felt the sudden urge to tell them. 

“¿Puedes sentarte con mamá y papá?” Can you sit with mom and dad? It’s just the four of you at the house. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can start living life. Your mom and dad look worried, you don’t want to scare them so you just blurt it out.

“Mamá, papá, sergio, estoy embarazada” mom, dad, sergio, I’m pregnant. Nothing would prepare you for the looks on their face. Your mom and dads jaw on the floor, your brother's jaw clenched.

“Hablas en serio” are you serious, your dad spoke up. All you can do is nod. “Who’s the dad? How did this happen” your mom said in English. You knew she was shocked because she hardly ever used English when it was just the 4 of you. It’s not like you weren’t expecting them to ask who the father was. But you hadn’t quite thought of who you were going to tell them. Because there is no way you are going to tell them about Max, they would kill you. Sergio would look at you differently. 

“I-i-i, I can’t tell you who it is because he doesn’t matter, he doesn’t want to be a father right now and I won’t put him in the position to do so. I want this baby because I know I have you guys to help support and love me. This baby is going to be so loved, it doesn’t need a dad because they are going to have sergio and dad being a great role models for them. Mom, I need your love and guidance right now more than anything in the world. I am still your daughter, I want you to love this baby no matter what, no matter who their dad is, or how they were conceived” you said while big tears rolled down your face. 

Segio was the first to move and give you a hug, whispering “I always got you”. He leans back and places a hand on your stomach, “seré un tío” I am going to be an uncle. 

You nod and smile. Your mom and dad look perplexed but they make their way to you and both give you a kiss on the cheek and a hug. “No puedo esperar para conocerte bebé''  I can’t wait to meet you baby,  your mom said while holding your stomach. You know it’s going to take some time for your dad to come around to the idea but he’s supportive and that’s all that matters. 

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

Over the next couple of weeks you finally start getting stuff ready for the baby. Buying stuff for the nursery and clothes for yourself. Right after your brother found out about the pregnancy he took you to the store and had you pick out a crib you liked. You were forever grateful to have him. 

It’s Friday morning and you are patiently waiting for your mom and carola to pick you up for your ultrasound appointment, where you would be finding out if you are having a boy or girl. You are beyond excited. You don’t care what you have, as long as the baby is healthy and happy. 

Getting up to put your shoes on, you hear your phone ring, assuming it’s your mom and sister in law telling you that they are ready for you to come out. You look at your phone and see it’s a text from a random number. Something in the universe is telling you not to open it, but you do. 

Hey y/n. It’s max. I just wanted to text you and see how you are. I know it’s been a couple of months since we last talked, but I feel like you are avoiding me. I take part of the blame too. I should have reached out but I was expecting to see you in Miami but you weren’t there. Is it because of me? I promise I’ll leave you alone if it is. I just want to make sure you are okay. I hope to see you at the Mexico GP in the next few months. Please text me if you ever need anything. I’m here for you. 

You don’t realize the way your eyes are stinging with tears until after you are done reading the text. A pang of guilt and sadness washes over you. You want to be so mad at max for texting you, but you know he has no idea, and he’s just trying to be nice. Your heart physically hurts, it’s like your baby knows it’s missing a piece of something. You remind yourself though that you are strong, so is this baby, and max is just getting started with his career. He does not need you or a baby weighing him down. 

Jolting you out of your thoughts, you hear the car horn signaling you to walk out the door. You can’t dwell on max, he’s a distant memory. All you should be focusing on is this baby. No matter how bad it hurts not having the father of your child around. 

Once at the doctors office, you are laying down with your belly exposed and cold gel covering every inch. “Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” You nod eagerly and hold your moms hand. 

“Ooo they are hiding from me, come on baby let’s see what you are” finally finding a good position, the doctor takes a few pictures and says “congratulations mama, it looks like you are having a girl”. You look over to see your mom crying and Carola recording everything. “I’m having a baby girl” you kept repeating to yourself. You have never felt more happy. 

When you are home alone, you start to think of the life you and your daughter will have. How you are going to homeschool her, and travel everywhere together. But your mind drifts to what could have been if max was involved. You had no doubt that max would be the best dad. He would be devoted and loving. A good father. He would take your daughter all over, putting her in karting right away but ultimately letting her choose her own path. Stop y/n, you tell yourself, those are dreams that won’t be coming true but you and your family will provide the best life for your baby girl. 

All you can do is be thankful and happy, you want to embrace pregnancy in the next 5 months. You ultimately decide it’s best not to text max back, not to add fuel to the fire. You hope as time goes on you are able to accept the fact that max won’t be a part of this journey. 

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

Months have passed, leaving you in your third trimester with little under eight weeks until you meet your precious baby. Pregnancy has been tough but also so rewarding, you can finally feel her little kicks, especially when you are watching your brother race on tv, subconsciously you wonder if she gets so excited because she sees her dad but then you tell yourself to stop being so delusional and she doesn't even know who her father is.

The Mexico GP is today and you have already told your entire family you aren't going. It would be too risky for the baby, but in reality it's too risky for max to see you. There was no more hiding your pregnancy. No matter how big the shirt or hoodie is, you can still see your bump. It’s better you stay home and just wait for everyone to come back. 

Kicking your feet up, you turn on the tv and watch the start of the race. You see the crowds filled with your brother's face, and his number along with max’s. Sergio had a great start, pushing to the front of the grid, having him leading the race. Max followed closely behind him. 

The race after the start was uneventful. Your brother won and you were extremely sad you didn't get to be there to congratulate him in person. Max was second and then Oscar, it was a good podium in your eyes. 

You patiently wait for your entire family to come home including your brother. You knew that would be hours though, so you decided to take a nap on the couch. That nap ended up being a five hour nap and when you opened your eyes you saw it was dark out. Something woke you up though and it was the sound of the front door of your parents house unlocking. Sitting up you get ready to jump into your brother's arms to congratulate him. One by one your family walks in, mom, dad, carola, the kids, sergio, and then max. 

You feel your heart drop to your stomach, you have to think quickly. He may find out you are pregnant but your family doesn't need to know that. Walking confidently over to your brother you pull him into a hug and say “felicidades hermano estoy muy feliz por ti” congrats brother I am so happy for you. You have yet to acknowledge that max is even standing in your familys living room with his mouth agape. Sergio hugs you back and says a quiet thank you. 

“¿Por qué está Max en la casa?” Why is max at the house? You say to your brother hoping max did not catch any of that. But your brother had a different idea. 

“Max wanted to come see the house and the city so we offered to let him stay the night and we can take him sightseeing tomorrow!” 

You nod your head and walk over to him, extending your hand out for him to shake. “Welcome max, and congrats on the podium” you say. There was no way he didn't see your stomach. You were wearing a tiny tank top that you practically spilled out of. You know he's not going to say anything to you in front of your family. So maybe if you went to your room and ignored him this whole thing would blow over. 

You should know better than that though. Because your family loved to bring up the fact that you are pregnant. You couldn't blame them, they had no idea that the father of the baby was 2 feet away from them.

Your mom was the first to speak up. “How is the baby Amor, did you get to rest or did she keep you up”. Well now he knows it's a girl. A part of you wanted to go cry in a corner but another part wanted to dote on your daughter no matter what. “No she has been really content today, during the race when she saw you sergio she got so happy, she was moving all over the place”.

A big smile formed on your brother's face, “that's my niece, she couldn't wait to see her uncle win”. You take a sneakily look over to max and he looks confused, hurt, and tired. You can't deal with this, you have to excuse yourself. You are going to tell them you have to go back to your house, even though you have been spending the last week sleeping over at your parents. 

“Guys I think I am going to drive back to my apartment, that way max can sleep in my room” you say hoping you came off as convincing 

“Nonsense, I can sleep on the couch” max is quick to reply.

Your dad is next to reply “you can't leave in the middle of the night, you are 8 months pregnant, you can't be alone”.

You don't have the energy to fight them so you bid them a goodnight and head to your room, hoping you don't get a visitor late in the night. Oh how could you be so wrong. 

Tossing and turning in your bed you can't fall asleep, maybe it was the nap, maybe it was because your baby's father was 10 feet away from you. You don't know if it's the hormones but you want him, it's like a primal urge. Like you have been separated for so long and he just suddenly came back and he looked good. His hair is long, a tiny bit of stubble growing on his cheeks. 

You have to sleep but you can't. You look at your phone and it's 3 in the morning, max has to be asleep right, it was an exhausting race. He wouldn't wake up right? If you go out to make yourself some tea. 

You hate yourself for it but part of your subconscious wants him to ask, but you know deep down that would be the worst possible idea. Throwing your feet off the bed you stand up unsteadily and start to slowly walk out of your room. Max looks like he’s asleep as you pass the couch. Once in the kitchen you turn on the small light next to the oven and start to make yourself some tea. 

Once done with putting everything away you turn around to grab your drink but see a sleepy looking max walk over to you. You don't mean to sound hostile but you do when you say “why are you up”. This was the man you loved, the father of your baby, but you were angry, at yourself or at him, you didn't know. 

“I could ask you the same question” he responded. “I couldn't sleep, so I needed to get myself some tea, goodnight max”. You begin to walk away and as you walk past him he grabs your arm and says “wait, we need to talk”. Shit you've been caught, you think to yourself.

“About what?” Maybe if you play dumb he will also and ignore everything. 

“You know about what y/n, don't play dumb, it's not a good look on you” max says with a snarl and strong grip on your forearm. The authoritativeness of his voice and demeanor sends chills down your spine. 

“Okay, but not here” you whisper. Grabbing his hand you wander outside to the patio where no one can hear you from inside the house. You sit down and let max talk. 

“So. You're pregnant?” 

“Yes” is all you can say

“Your dad said you're eight months pregnant, so either you were pregnant when we slept together, or that baby is mine. Which is it y/n?” 

“I - I, it's none of your business max, this baby and I were fine before this and we will be fine long after you leave” you stutter out.

“So she is mine, god damnit y/n, why didn't you tell me? I've lost 8 months of your pregnancy. Were you ever going to tell me?” 

Guilt is eating away at you and you feel tears burning your eyes.

“I didn't think you would want anything to do with the baby max, you and I live completely different lives. You are you max, having a baby is a big responsibility. Do you know how hard it is for carola? She has four babies. She has to take them on planes all over the world so they can see their dad. How could I raise a baby with you, when we hardly know each other? When you don't even want to be with me? Tell me max, how would that work?”

“That's not your decision to decide on your own. How could you hide this from me? I could have been there for you, I could have been the one taking you to doctors appointments. Who knows?”

“Who knows what?”

“Who knows I’m the dad?”

“No one, I told them it doesn’t matter who the father is”

“I can’t believe you y/n, now everyone is going to think I’m some deadbeat dad who doesn’t want to be a part of their baby’s life. Well to hell with that, no more secrets. I am going to raise this baby and we are going to do it together” he said.

All you can do is nod your head and whisper out an “okay max, no more secrets”

“And who said I didn’t want to be with you?” 

This catches your attention, because you hoped he would have ignored you when you said that. But of course he didn’t, max is the most observant person you've ever met.

“Max you have no idea how long I’ve been in love with you. Long before you and segio even became teammates, I yearned for you. But I refuse to trap you into staying with me just because I am having your baby”

“Again y/n that’s not your decision to make, do you think I would have slept with you if I didn’t have feelings for you. What kind of guy do you think I am? Y/n I don’t know where we stand on us being together but we are both the parents and I know we care for eachother. I will move to Mexico if I have to, but you are not going to keep this baby out of my life”

“I understand max, but what are we going to do when the press find out? Do you really want your daughter under that scrutiny? How are we going to tell our families? I’m sure my brother and your father are gonna be really fond of the idea of us having a baby together”

“Y/n you are not listening to me, none of that matters, who cares what anyone says. If your brother decides to punch me so be it, but that’s not going to stop me from being a loving and present dad, I’m not going to be like my father”

Something snaps inside of you, a need to reassure him and be close to him. You stand up and grab both his hands.

“Of course you aren’t going to be like your father, you are an amazing person, I didn’t keep this pregnancy a secret because I thought you would be a bad dad, I did it because I was scared of everything else. You don’t know how much I wished you were at the doctors appointments with me holding my hand. Going shopping to buy clothes and bottles. Some nights I would cry myself to sleep knowing our daughter would grow up not having you in her life. Taking her karting, protecting her, chasing her around that paddock. So don't ever think I hid her from you because I thought you were going to be a bad dad. It was me who was scared of how everyone would react and what they would say when they found out their precious max verstappen would have a child out of wedlock”. 

Max pulls you into a hug, and for once in these past 7 months of pregnancy you felt like you could finally breathe.

“I’m going to protect you guys no matter what” he muttered into your hair.

The baby was excited, maybe because she knew her dad was finally with us. She was kicking up a storm. 

“Max feel, she’s so happy you are here” you say as you grab his hand and place it on your tummy. 

“She’s strong, maybe she will want to play football one day” he says with a smile. 

“Let’s go to bed, we can talk more tomorrow” grabbing his hand you lead him to your bedroom.

Laying down on your side, max lays behind you and places a hand over your stomach. You sleep the best you have in a very long time. 

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Telling your family that max was the father of your baby went as well as you would think. No glasses were broken, no bleeding, there were some strong words shared but honestly you expected that. 

As max was taking a shower, you sat in the living room waiting for everyone to come out to leave. Your brother plops down next to you and says “you know you could have told me”

“I couldn’t sergio, I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me”

“Y/n you are my sister, you always come first before my career, I could never be disappointed in you. Grossed out a little? Yeah. But never disappointed.”

You find yourself laughing and laying your head on his shoulder. You don’t know how you got so lucky to have a family so supportive. 

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Being with max is like a breath of fresh air. You didn’t know how bad you actually needed him, and now that you actually have him, you aren’t sure you can let go.

He jumped into his role of father to be fast and efficiently, much like he does with everything else. Before he left back to Monaco, he asked if he could go to a doctor's appointment with you and of course you said yes. You did make him wear a mask and hoodie to help disguise him. 

Your doctor was surprised to see you come with a man, as you thought she probably assumed you were doing this alone. 

“Who is this?” She asks with a smile and extends her hand out for max to shake.

Just as you were about to say a friend. He beats you to the punchline. 

“Hello, I am the father of the baby, sorry it’s taken so long for us to meet, my work schedule keeps me busy” You smiled and grabbed his hand. 

The rest of the appointment was smooth, the exciting part was the ultrasound. Max was by your head, watching tentatively at the screen.

“Baby girl looks good, has a fast little heart beat, height and weight are all in range, let’s take a listen to her” the doctor says as she allows us to hear the echoes of the baby’s heartbeat. This wasn’t new to you, but you never got over the fact that you were growing another life in you. You look over and see max in absolute awe. If you look close enough you actually think you see a tear in his eye. He grips your hand tight and says “her heart beat is so fast and strong, oh my god I can’t believe we are actually seeing her, doctor can I please have an ultrasound picture”. You are shocked he asked her for one, but for some reason his asking really reassured you that he was in this for the long haul, even if you guys weren’t a couple. 

The appointment wraps up with the doctor giving us a couple ultrasound pictures and instructions to not travel, as you might actually deliver within the next couple of weeks if not sooner. 

As you are driving home with max you ask what he thought. “Y/n that was amazing, I can’t believe we are having a little girl. She’s so big and strong already, do you have any names you think? I know we have a lot of stuff to discuss but after seeing her, everything seems like it’s going to work out. I will do whatever I have to, to keep you and her safe”.

You feel the words get stuck in your throat, all you can do is nod and say “it’s going to be the greatest experience you and I have ever accomplished. As for names, I have a couple in mind but I want your input. I have always really liked the name Alejandra or Catalina. but I want her to have a part of your culture in her name as well”. You look over to him to see a satisfied smile resting upon his face. 

“I think those are great names, she will have a part of me in her last name, so whatever first name you want, I am happy to go along with it”. 

Life feels really good right now. The sun is shining, and even though you and max are not together in the way you want, you will both work together to provide your daughter a happy life.

Max takes you back to your place. As you both walk in, you wash your hands and proceed to plop down on the couch, not bothering to take off your shoes. Max notices and kneels in front of you to unlace your laces, slowly taking them off. You don’t know if it’s the hormones but the tiniest of touch was leaving you with butterflies in your stomach. 

“Thank you max” you muttered. 

“What kind of partner would I be if I wasn’t able to do this for you” your heart skips a beat when he says the word partner. 

Once finished he stands to look down at you. “You know y/n, pregnancy suits you. You look so pretty with our baby growing in you”. You can’t help but blush at the compliment. Starting to feel a heat overtake your body. You wanted him, but you couldn’t let him know that.

It’s like he could read your mind though. “Do you know I think about our night together often, every time before bed I touch myself thinking about your body and how it felt. Ever since being in Mexico, everytime I shower I get myself off thinking of you. Seeing you so domestic, barefooted, pregnant, not a care in the world, It makes me feral for you. I crave you y/n, do you feel the same?”

If it was easy for you to get up from the couch you would have pounced on him in a second. But instead he understands and grabs both of your arms, hoisting you up so you are standing in front of him. “Max, do you know how difficult it has been for me to not kiss you, grab you, love you this past week, I want you so bad, I want to be yours forever and always”

That's all max needs to hear before he grabs your face leading you into a kiss. It's a little awkward because of your big belly but you guys make it work. You can't stop kissing him. Things get heated very fast, teeth clashing, lips being bitten, hair being pulled. Max leads you to your bedroom where he takes off his shirt then yours. You hadn't worn a bra that day so he immediately went to grab your tits, worshiping them.

“God, your tits are amazing, they are so massive, presented to me, ready for me to take and devour”

You moan in response when you look down to see max leaving feather-like kisses around your nipples. When he hears your moan he pops one of your nipples into his mouth and begins to suck. While it all felt so good, you wanted him in you and he could tell you were growing impatient.

Popping off, he leads you to the bed and makes you sit. Your face now level with his crotch. You take this opportunity to start to unbuckle his belt and shimmy his pants and underwear off. Just as you are about to take him into your mouth, he stops you. 

“Not today darling, today is about you, and I want to taste you, I've been dreaming about it for months”

He lays you back gently, pulling off your pants and underwear you feel the slightest insecure at being so exposed. In response you try and close your legs but he doesn't let that stop him. He separates them open with his hands, kneeling in front of you. 

“Don't hide from me baby, let me make you feel good” max says as he looks up at you for confirmation.

You nod, and prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see what he's doing. Quite honestly you can't really see him because your belly is in the way but you do make eye contact with him as he makes his way down. 

He licks a fat stripe right on your heat, it sends shocks of pleasure coursing through you. Max proceeds to kiss along the sides of your thighs, teasing you.

“Max, babe, please” you beg out.

“Is my girl needy for me? You're mine right? No one else, just mine. Say it y/n, tell me you are mine” 

He has barely touched you and you already feel so fucked out. You manage to get the words out though “yes max I'm yours, only yours, I only have ever wanted you”. That seems to satisfy him because his mouth is on your clit in seconds. Taking his time between licking and sucking the bundle of nerves. It felt euphoric, max didn't get a chance to go down on you the first time you guys had sex, but now that you've got a taste of what his mouth could do, you don't know how you could ever let it go. 

Sucking hard on your clit, he takes the opportunity to stick his middle finger in you. Slowly working you open, not that you need it, you are dripping in arousal. Your moans are filling up the room, max adds a second finger in you, curling up, creating something you have never felt before. The way his fingers moved inside of you, the way his mouth devoured you. It felt so good, you felt bad because you were pulling his hair, practically moving his face. 

“Fuck, max your mouth feels so good”.

Max takes his mouth off of you and says “you taste so good y/n, I could eat you out for hours on end” 

You never pegged max to be a man practically starved for pussy but here you are, and you are grateful that he is. You needed him in you though. 

“Amor (love), please come fuck me, I need it so bad” 

“How can I say no to my pretty girl, lay on your side” 

You shimmy yourself up the bed, laying on your side. Max makes his way beside you, laying down. You take the opportunity to turn your head back and look at him. You see him slowly pumping his cock, about to slide it in you he asks, “Shit, do you want me to wear a condom”

Quite literally you couldn’t want anything less. “No no no, please I want to feel you fill me up. I want to be dripping with your cum” 

“Fuck you drive me crazy y/n, you have such a dirty mouth on you.”

You reach back and grab his hip, helping him line himself up with your entrance. He trusts into you in one swift motion, the burn is just like you remember. The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Max takes his hand and reaches over to interlock his fingers with yours. No words have been exchanged but you have never felt closer to him than in this moment. 

You can’t reach back to kiss him, but he does leave a trail of wet, sloppy, kisses down your neck. You can already tell you aren’t going to last much longer, you have had so much bottled up, you needed a release. Max can tell by the way you are clenching down on him. 

“Are you close? Play with your pretty clit for me, I’m right there with you”

You nod vigorously, taking your hand and rubbing between your legs. The next thing you know you feel your climax reach an all time high, and you are cumming all over his cock. You let out the biggest moan and feel your legs shaking. You can feel yourself throbbing, basically begging Max to cum inside you. He grabs your hip hard, you look down and see his knuckles are white, he slams into not once, not twice, but three times and suddenly you feel a warm liquid filling you up. Max groans, placing his face in your neck. 

You guys lie there in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness and comfort, because tomorrow he will be leaving back home and you don’t know how you are going to handle it.

Max slowly slides out of you and you feel his seed leaking out of you down your thighs. He kisses your cheek and mutters something about cleaning you up. He comes back in with a wipe and spreads your legs to clean you up. This feels extremely intimate but you allow yourself to be comfortable with it because you deserve to be taken care of. 

After everything is sorted, you are both laying down and it’s you who speaks first. “Max, what does this mean”

He takes a deep breath before speaking. “I was mad at you for not telling me, I needed time to process everything, which is why I told you I needed time, but don't ever for a second doubt I didn't want you or the baby. I'm in it for the long run y/n. I’ll follow you both anywhere.”

“I’m sorry max, I can't imagine a life where you and I aren't together” 

“You shouldn't be due until the end of the season, so right after the last race i'll pack a couple of bags and stay down here. I was thinking we would spend the first 6 months in Mexico and the next 6 in Monaco. I'll keep paying the house so we can go whenever. When racing starts back up we will figure it out then but im looking forward to having a couple of months with you guys disturbance free”

Your heart warms at the idea of him finding compromises for the both of you. And he was right, we would figure the logistics out as time went on, all that mattered was that you both were on the same page. 

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Max and Sergio finished the season off strong, and max stayed true to his word. Right after the last race he was on the first plane out to Mexico to join you for the birth. 

Quite honestly he came in just enough time because not even two days after his arrival, your water broke. 

“Do we have everything packed in the car max” you ask while pacing around the room.

“Yes sweetheart, let's get going” 

As you expected max was completely calm and collected, acting as a support system. When the doctor came in and told you, we were ready to push, you got scared and max could sense that. He grabbed your hand and whispered “hey look at me. everything is going to be okay, do you think I would ever let anything happen to you guys? you are so strong and I can’t wait to see our beautiful daughter”

His words of encouragement helped you during the delivery process and before you knew it, your baby girl’s cry’s entered the room. 

“Dad, do you want to cut the umbilical cord?” the doctor asked. The sheer look of awe was all over max’s face. You watch as he gently cuts the cord and makes his way back to you. After she is cleaned up they plop her down on your chest and you just take her in. She is the perfect mix of both of you, she has max’s pretty turquoise eyes and your dark hair. 

You look up at max and see that he has tears in his eyes. 

“She’s so beautiful, she’s perfect y/n and she’s all ours”

You nod because you are at a loss for words at how special this moment is.To think what this would look like right now if you never told him. Looking at both max and the baby, you begin to wonder how lucky you got. This baby started as a secret but ended up being the best thing that could happen to either of you. And you can’t wait to see the life that you and max build together. 

♡♡♡♡

SO SO CUTE IM DYING OVER THIS MAX

race for your heart | mv1

summary: you’re not meant to be there, but you can’t stay away, especially not from the racer who can’t stop winning.

pairing: illegal street racer!max x fem!reader

an: might be my fave thing i’ve ever written. thinking of making this a mini series, thoughts? i’m also not an illegal street racer and have never seen one so might not be accurate x

word count: 3.7k

warnings: illegal, police chase, speeding, mentions of drugs and dodgy men

feedback appreciated and requests open!!

…

You'd been here a few times before, not regularly, never more than twice a month, but enough times to know how everything goes. You weren't meant to be here the first time, you found it by a complete accident but you were grateful now. It filled you with both excitement and dread to be here. It was illegal and wrong, nevermind the fact someone could die.

The place was crawling with creeps and criminals everywhere, one wrong move or one wrong sentence could get you on the wrong side of some dangerous people, but you lived for the thrill. The danger of the drive, and watching the drivers do it. In brand new sports cars you could only dream of affording. You didn't really know much about the drivers, except one.

Max.

He caught your eye instantly when you'd first shown. He was stood there, head to toe in black, his arm placed carefully on his car, showing off all the right bits. He was the reason you kept coming back. He was fast, quicker than all the other drivers, and everyone knew it. He was the one people wanted to challenge, to beat, but they never seemed to.

You'd seen the bets. The money people were giving to the winner after every race. More money than you knew what to do with. You craved it, the luxury and the lifestyle, but it seemed impossible. You weren't a fast driver, and you weren't a criminal by any means yet you still found yourself drawn here every time. And drawn to the driver everyone deemed untouchable.

He was the same today: a winner. You never expected any different, no one did. All the prizes were handed to him on a gold platter. Crowds cheered for him, men patting him on the back as he got out of his car to grab a beer. He met your eye again as he sat at the bar. He was left alone now, the crowds already moving on to the next big thing to talk about. He didn't look away, and for the second time, he found himself walking over to you.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here alone, again?" He grumbled, taking a sip of his beer. He changed his clothes after the race, now dressed in a white button-down and jeans.

He was weary of you the first time you met. You looked lost, you were, and you were not the kind of person to be here. You looked too pure and good to be surrounded by lousy criminals with more money than they knew what to do with. He wondered if you were with the police, trying to scope out the area and shut it down, but he learned quickly he was wrong.

You explained you were lost and he blindly believed you. He was worried once you figured out what you were doing that you would go to the police but he made you promise you wouldn't, and after he watched how your knees went weak after he called you a "good girl," he knew you wouldn't.

He saw you the next few times you went, looking less and less lost every time, but he never caught your eye long enough to feel confident in walking over. "Can you imagine that?" He thought to himself, "I'm treated as though I'm a fucking god around here and I still can't talk to a girl." He beat himself down over it, watching you interact with people he never wanted you to talk to, in fear they'd ruin the pure image he'd created of you in his head. So he watched from afar, giving creeps the eye long enough to scare them off. Of course, you didn't know it was him sending these men away, but sometimes you were grateful and other times you weren't. He felt bad for a moment before not caring again. "It's to keep her safe," he promised to himself every time.

You didn't reply to him immediately, instead drinking in his appearance: the way his face looked under the moonlight, the way his jaw locked when you didn't reply, and the way his shirt stretched over his muscles perfectly, letting you see everything.

"So?" he replied, smirking, watching you look him up and down more times than he could count, "are you going to answer me?"

You're eyes flew to his face again, watching as he became more confident the longer he saw you looking.

"What did you ask?" you mumbled, holding eye contact.

"I said: "What's a pretty girl like you doing here alone, again?" Think you can answer that?" he challenged, taking a step closer. He saw what he did to other girls, how he made them crumble, but nothing compared to you, and how he loved watching his effect on you.

"I- well, I just came for a beer?" you answered, sounding more unconfident the more you went on. You knew why you were here: because you liked it, but you didn't want to. It was criminal yet here you were, enjoying the thrill and the danger. And watching Max, racing or not.

"And the last time? And the time before that? You don't seem like the type of girl to go out drinking alone, especially to the type of place so dirty and illegal." He asked, teasing, stepping closer once again. His voice was growing louder even as he got closer until he was touching you and leaning down to whisper in your ear, "I think you like it, don't you?"

Your body shuddered at the closeness, your hand flying straight to his arm to keep balance. Instead, you made it worse for yourself, grabbing straight onto his muscles, and turning your face the slightest shade of red. You hoped Max wouldn't be able to see - you were too close and there wasn't much light, but you were very wrong. Crowds moved everywhere around you, but all of Max's focus was on you. It was impossible for him not to notice, he was trying to pick up on every detail that he could about you.

His head lifted back up so you could see him fully like he could see you. Your faces were barely apart, a few centimetres at best, but it still messed with your head, a million thoughts flying everywhere at once until there were none. None other than Max and what his lips would feel like pressed against yours.

You let out the slightest nod as a response to his question. You didn't want to admit you liked it but with Max so close to you it was the only reaction you could even fathom of giving. He was messing with your head and he hasn't even done anything yet.

"Are you going to answer me like a good girl or just stand there?" he says, with the cockiest attitude you'd ever seen. He knew what he did to you, and what else those two little words would do, and he loved it.

Before you got the chance to reply, you felt pressure on your back and you were pushed into Max. He grabbed you and kept you upright, but he couldn't miss the sudden uproar of the crowd and the fact they were all running in the same direction.

He gave you a once over to make sure you were alright before looking forward to try to see what was happening. People were screaming and running and he couldn't tell why. His arms wrapped around you in a protective manner, pulling you closer in an attempt to keep you safe.

So many people were shouting at him and he couldn't make out what anyone was saying. He was trying to figure it out but it seemed impossible. You were almost pushed again but the person managed to stop themselves. Max didn't care, he was almost starting to shout at them for their recklessness until he finally found out what was happening.

"Police! Run!" the man screamed at him before carrying on running himself. It was like his fight or flight mode kicked in and he wasn't going to get caught.

"My car," he said as he realised an escape plane, telling you at the same time. He found your hand and took off running, dragging you with him. He led you both to the side of the crowd so that you wouldn't get lost and led you quickly to his car.

Police were everywhere, especially near the cars. They were parked on the road but out of the way of the runners. Many of them were unregistered or stolen, and others held bags upon bags of drugs. Police were stood by his car, trying to look inside the windows for anything immediately suspicious. They were covering the drivers side and he knew he would have to be fast.

"When I jump across to the drivers side, get into the passenger seat and shut the door," he called back to you. You processed the information, barely, and nodded, but Max was already focused on using his free hand to find his keys.

He got them, twisting them around, and unlocking the car just as he was about to reach it. The police were looking in the backseat, but were too slow to process the flashing orange lights and the doors at the opposite side opening.

Max leaped in and switched sides like a machine, doing it with so much ease it seemed impossible. He grabbed the driver's side door, holding it close as officers tried to open it.

"Get in," he screamed, watching as you paused for a moment. You made eye contact with an officer whilst quickly overthinking your whole life up until this moment. How did this happen?

You couldn't think much longer and you got inside, shutting the door shut with a slam. You let out a sigh of relief much too quickly as your breath hitched with the speed the car had just started.

Max locked the doors and took off in a flash. The car sped up in an instant, going to speeds you never dreamed of. Max was absorbed into the roads, dodging people and officers as he tried to escape.

Your hand gripped the seats until your knuckles were white; this was not a situation you ever wanted to be in. Max noticed, taking his eyes off of the road every few seconds to double-check you were okay.

"I do this every day and I've never got hurt," his eyes flicked back to your face after trying to reassure you, which was obviously failing.

"You won't get into trouble with the police either." he tried again. After looking at you again, he realised how badly he was failing. He didn't know what to do. He was fine in situations like these and had never had to comfort anyone. Every solution was running through his mind, not only to get out of here safe and alive but to make sure you knew that.

"Hold my hand," he ordered softly, holding out his hand for you to grab.

"Don't you need to focus on driving?" you questioned, worried. He laughed and lifted his other hand off of the wheel too. When he saw your face he immediately put it back on but kept the other outstretched for you to grab.

You looked at it for a second before grabbing it, interlacing your fingers together, and bringing your hands to rest on top of your thighs. His thumb immediately started traveling back and forth along the back of your hand as you decided to focus on that rather than the road in front of you.

"I promise you I will keep you safe. Nothing bad will happen," he spoke gently. He smiled at you, not that you were looking, but he thought that it might lift the mood anyway. "Trust me," he added, in the softest tone he thought he'd ever spoken with. He shook his head - he was going soft for a girl he's only ever spoken to twice.

You nodded gently, genuinely trusting him for a moment. That all faded when you started hearing sirens in the distance, getting closer and closer.

Max looked through the wing mirrors before speeding up the car even more. You subconsciously squeezed his hand more, gripping it like a vice.

"Okay, pretty girl, I'm going to need my hand back but it's only to keep you safe. I promise I'm going to keep you safe." You didn't believe him but you tried anyway.

You let go of his hand reluctantly, going back to squeezing the seats. You let out a shaky breath and tried to see what was going on behind you. You were on a motorway, going much higher than the speed limit. You could see three police cars in your view, all trying to catch you up.

Max hit the pedal again, speeding up impossibly faster. His eyes were on the road, occasionally on the police behind him and occasionally on you. If he had it his way, they'd be always on you, but he promised to keep you safe and was doing his damn best to keep it.

"We're going faster than their cars can physically go. We'll lose them in no time." He did another once over of you, taking in how petrified you looked once again. "Sitting so tense is going to make you more tense. I don't want you to worry yourself sick."

"Sorry," you mumbled, taking a quick look in the mirrors to see the police much further in the distance than you thought they would be.

"Don't apologise, pretty girl." he spoke, moving the car to the first lane.

He went round a sharp turn, almost heading onto a junction exit but only just missing it. He sped up again, heading around the next corner with flying speed.

"The police will think we just turned off, we'll turn off at the next one." You just nodded, going along with everything. You barely knew the man yet you were on a literal police chase with him.

He slowed the car down to a normal speed, placing his hand back into yours, "see, we're okay."

"We're okay," you repeated, trying to reassure yourself. His thumb was back to tracing lines on the back of your hand and it was helping you more than you'd like to admit.

It wasn't long until you turned off, traveling at a normal speed down some city suburb roads. You headed into an area you'd never seen, full of some of the biggest houses you imagined the city had to offer. You didn't even know where you were going yet you trusted Max blindly.

He parked in front of a huge residence, with all sorts of fancy cars parked in front. You imagined multiple massive families could live there with tonnes of spare space due to the sheer size of the front alone. It was truly extraordinanry.

"Where are we?" You questioned. Max had turned off the car and leaned back in his seat. His hand never left yours, and his thumb never stopped brushing back and forth.

"My home," he spoke, watching your face convey more emotions than he thought was possible. Your mind was racing a mile a minute: what did he want from you? was he kidnapping you? did he want something in return for saving you? You didn't like the thought of what was happening at all but Max read you easily.

"I can drive you back home if you'd prefer. Or take you somewhere, get you a hotel, anything," he spoke sincerely. He fully believed anything you'd want him to do, he would do for you, and he would go to the ends of the world to do it.

"I don't think I can be alone right now." You said, training your eyes onto yours and Max's hand.

"I can take you to a friend's? I can stay with you? I can take you somewhere crowded? Whatever you want me to do, I will do." He said, promising himself he would do whatever you wanted.

It was stupid - so stupid - the way Max had made you feel safe and the fact you wanted to stay by him. Not one thing led to the conclusion that he was a good man yet you still wanted to stay.

"My house is probably over an hour away." You knew Max could drive fast, you knew he could get you there much quicker but you didn't want to leave him. You looked out the window, at his house.

Max saw the way you looked at it, longingly yet worriedly. He didn't want to push you to make a decision, he wanted you to say it himself. He gave you hand a few reassuring squeezes, urging you to say what you felt.

"I want to stay with you," you whispered. You still stared at his house in horror and amusement. Max could see you in the reflection and could feel the worry radiating off you - he wanted nothing more than to make you feel safe.

"Let's go to a hotel." he said, your head immediately flicking back to look at his, "We can get different rooms if you'd like, but if you'd feel more comfortable there, we can go. It's no problem at all."

"Yes please," you nodded, grateful for Max's thinking. The more he was talking, the more comfortable and safe you felt around him. Past you would probably be calling yourself stupid in every way you knew how, but you felt like it'd be okay this time.

He drove off carefully, sticking to all the speed limits, something he rarely did when he was alone. He took you to a nearby hotel, only a ten-minute drive away. It was a lovely-looking hotel, something you'd never check yourself into though when you could just get the classic cheap ones that always worked fine.

"You okay?" Max asked carefully as you peered outside.

"This looks expensive, Max."

God, he loved when you said his name. You hadn't said it a lot but he felt like he could get addicted every time.

He chuckled in amusement, "I've got more money than I could use if I tried, it's on me."

You nodded and opened the car door, unfortunately dropping Max's hand in the process. Not for long though, as Max whipped around the side of the car to grab it again after muttering a small, "let me open it for you next time," to you.

He ordered two separate rooms but made sure they were next to each other and handed you both keys to your room and the spare keys to his, making you promise to let yourself in of you needed anything.

You felt yourself drawn to him, becoming disappointed as he left you to your own room, longing for more. You led in bed, in the same clothes you'd been wearing all day, wanting nothing more than to just be with him again.

You also couldn't stop thinking about the night that passed and how it could've ended much differently. You were reckless and a complete disaster of a person but you didn't think you would change it if you could.

So you left. You got all your belongings and you knocked on Max's room. He opened the door rather quickly, with a sudden look of confusion on his face when he realised it was you.

His hair was messy and stuck up in every direction but he still looked flawless. He had no shirt or pants on, just boxers, and you couldn't help but admire his whole body.

"Are you okay? Just let yourself in next time. What happened?" he asked frantically, worry laced all over his voice.

"Can I stay with you?" You asked nervously, refusing to look at his face.

"Of course, pretty girl," he replied with no hesitation, he would do anything to have you nearby. He stepped aside and welcomed you in, taking everything out of your hands and placing it on a table.

"You take the bed. I can either join you, take the sofa out here or take the chair in the bed room. And here," he said, picking up the shirt he'd changed into after racing, "take this, you can't be comfortable sleeping in that."

You took the shirt with a "thank you," and got changed in the bedroom. The shirt was long enough that you couldn't see anything if you tried, and it was incredibly comfy.

You poked your head out of the bedroom to see Max half asleep with his head in his hands. You gently called his name, his head jolting suddenly towards you.

"Will you stay with me?" you asked, a lot more confidently than before, but still a little shaky.

Max got up with a nod and headed inside the bedroom. He watched you get comfortable in bed and snuggled into the side you hadn't chosen.

You immediately moved towards him, throwing a leg over his, and your head on top of his chest. His arms moved instinctively around you, pulling you impossibly closer. He was so tired but wasn't going to waste an opportunity of staring at you a little longer.

"Sorry the night didn't turn out how you planned," he mumbled, wanting so badly to kiss your forehead but didn't want to overstep boundaries, "and sorry for scaring you."

"It's okay Max," you whispered, turning your head to kiss his chest ever so delicately. He decided to kiss your head in retaliation, smiling all the way through it.

"Tell me if you want to go again and I'll be there," he chuckled against your head, "goodnight, pretty girl."

"Goodnight, Max."

…

this might be my favourite thing i’ve ever written so reblogs and feedback would be really appreciated !! :) also thinking of making this a mini series, thoughts?

this…is absolutely fucking adorable im crying ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

BEJEWLED !

pairing , max verstappen x fem!reader , pierre gasly x (ex)gf!reader

summary , in which her post break-up era is her thriving and the world fawning or in which someone loves her louder than him !

✩

liked by maxverstappen1 lilymunihe dior and 45,555,034 others.

yourusername most ardently 🕊️

view all 987,999 comments.

lilymhe for me??

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( liked by taylorswift )

lilymhe kiss me w those glossy lips 💋

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( liked by danielricciardo maxverstappen1 and charles_leclerc )

maxverstappen1 okay elizabeth bennett.

→ yourusername you loved the book didn’t you?

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( liked by maxverstappen1 lilymunihe and charles_leclerc )

gigihadid soft girl era 🩰

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username idk if i want her to cuddle me and smother my face in kisses or slap me and degrade me.

( liked by maxverstappen1 )

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→ yourusername ayo

→ username this is my multiverse of madness

✩

✩

yourusername posted to their stories

seen by maxverstappen1, lilymhe, dior and 989,456 others.

lilymhe replied to your story.

→ those cookies were mwah chefs kiss !!

→ alex nearly choked he ate them so fast

→ i’ll send you a vid lol

charles_leclerc replied to your story.

→ has max actually annotated all those books??

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dior replied to your story.

→ 🤍🤍

maxverstappen1 replied to your story.

→ put me in an apron and call me a baker 👨‍🍳

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alexalbon replied to your story.

→ i was choking and lily recorded me and laughed instead of helping me

→ wow you got the vid already 😒

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landonorris replied to your story.

→ will you pack some cookies for me??

✩

liked by maxverstappen1 gigihadid prada and 37,342,555 others.

yourusername what’s a girl gonna do?

view all 897,888 comments.

lilymhe don’t be shy. move the bag away.

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maxverstappen1 cute shirt

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charles_leclerc lovers and friends??

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landonorris someone left the house with a crate of strawberries this morning 🤔

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gigihadid 😍😍😍

→ yourusername love u love u

username you guys decide the max + y/n stuff imma look at easter eggs for a new album

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danielricciardo hypothetically if there was a new album. i’d be the first to know right.

→ lilymhe bitch i will throw hands

→ maxverstappen1 i will throw cars

→ redbullracing no you won’t

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→ oceanblvd *laughs harder*

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( liked by maxverstappen1 gigihadid lilymhe and landonorris )

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username I CANT BREATHE ONGEDB Y/N LANA AND TAYLOR EHSUSJNE BY JACK ANTONOFF I DIE

( liked by aarondessner)

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username i think the internet is broken.

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✩

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liked by maxverstappen1 taylorswift and 98,222,888 others.

yourusername it’s here !! it’s from me to you, for us and for all the dreamers, lovers, wonderers and thinkers it’s everything i’ve thought about for 8 months, it’s the answer to all the questions i’ve asked in the past, it’s for the simplicity of love and the foolishness of youth, it’s for your obliviousness and secret best friends, it’s for the people who thought they were hard to love. it’s the sparkles and glitter that you are and will remain.

max, this album is everyone because of you. my one and only, you are my forever muse, thank you for staying up with me all night and pulling lyrics together, thank you for listening to me cry and reading to me when i couldn’t understand words. you are everything, you are my favourite song on repeat, you are the glow in the night, you are the best thing that has ever been mine.

bejewled, is now streaming on all platforms !!

i hope you love it as much as i do 🦋

view all 2,344,555 comments.

maxverstappen1 it was an honour to work with you.

maxverstappen1 i love you more than words can express.

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( liked by maxverstappen1 )

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( liked by selenagomez )

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( liked by maxverstappen1 )

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✩

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maxverstappen1 added to his stories.

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yourusername replied to your story.

→ i love you so much.

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carlossainz55 replied to your story.

→ ignore charles he’s been binge listening to foolish one.

→ he wants someone to act out the song for him

→ help me. i beg

✩

✩

liked by yourusername landonorris lilymhe and 998,457 others.

maxverstappen1 my lifeline.

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authors note , this was so much fun!! but also so time consuming, i had to use my fav in the feels taylor songs and i’m pretty proud of this, regardless of there not being much pierre content at all, im gonna ignore just how exhausting it it to do smau’s for a bit because this was a fun break from studying, i hope you enjoyed !!

edit , lol posted this 25 hours ago and tumbles tags decided not to work :/ so i’ve edited it added more to it and i’m hoping it works now 🤞

disclaimer , all the images were found on pinterest. i do not own any of them all rights go to the respective owners !!

the miscommunication (aka max fucking up) is so finger licking good <333333

For What It's Worth - Chapter 5

Max Verstappen x Reader

Chapter 5: Why would you ever get flowers?

Chapter summary: Lando confirms your fears of no one being interested in you and Max learns a hard lesson from Daniel.

Warnings: Swearing. 

Word Count: 3613

Authors note: So, this chapter was weirdly difficult to write, so hopefully the next one is easier and I get it out faster than this one but yeah, inspiration was lacking here. But next chapter is with Carlos and I’m excited to see how Max handles seeing his girl flirt with a Ferrari driver. 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

______________________________________________________________

Lando was scared. Between the message he had received from Max last night and you now walking up to his table at breakfast, looking like that in a sundress, he knew he was royally fucked and something was going on. 

“This seat taken?” Lando took an embarrassingly long time to answer you, the entire time screaming at himself to keep his eye-line above your neck. 

A second later Lando was stumbling up and out of his chair to grab your own and pull it out for you. His nerves flared up as he stumbled out of his chair in order to pull out your own and they only got worse as you placed your hand on his chest and whispered a thank you with a smile attached that might just be criminal. 

Max was going to kill him. 

Lando, rather ungracefully, made his way back to his own chair and as he sat down, he realised that he had yet to say a single word to you. Which he assumes you had picked up considering the look you were giving him. 

“You look beautiful.” He wished that it hadn’t come out as flirty as it had, but you did and Max wasn’t around, so maybe he could let you know. 

“Oh, thank you, I just threw this on.” Your giggle had Lando blushing. 

“Yeah, well, uhm, no it looks good. Max must love it on you.” You cocked your head and gave him a confused look, no doubt wondering why he had mentioned Max, but Lando wasn’t taking any chances when it came to the girl Max loved. 

“Max isn’t the one I’m hoping to impress.” Lando was fucked. The silence that engulfed the table was palpable. All that could be heard was the clinks from the cutlery and chatter from the neighbouring tables surrounding them. 

“Oh, you're not? Who then? Do I know them?” Another giggle, but his confusion was genuine. Since when weren’t you Max’s girl?

“The driver who got me the beautiful flowers.” Your voice was soft, almost seductive and Lando was missing it all. 

“What fucking driver is stupid enough to get you flowers?” He hadn’t meant it as an insult, but he heard it as soon as it came out his mouth, immediately attempting to explain this without telling you why he had said what he said, “Like, no, not like that, but, it's just, it’s complicated.”

“Oh, so I guess you agree with Max and think the drivers only like pretty girls then.” You were now leaning back in your chair, arms crossed over your chest, looking away from Lando in an attempt to hide your hurt. 

“No. Don’t put words in my mouth, I didn’t say you weren’t,”suddenly what you had actually said caught up with him, “Wait, Max said you weren’t pretty?” This conversation was about to take a turn if Max had said that to you. Maybe they were all wrong, maybe he could make a move on you. 

But then what did Max want to talk to him about? 

“It’s not important.” The look in your eyes was murderous. 

“It’s a lot more important than you think.” Silence took a seat at your table once again, a simple stare down happening between you and Lando, both of you trying to understand exactly what was happening in this conversation. 

You were the first to break the silence, “Look, did you send the flowers or not.” Lando had resigned himself to not understanding a goddamn thing in this entire conversation. 

“No, I’m not a fucking idiot.” Once again, it was the wrong thing to say. 

“Why? Is it that awful to think about being with me?” Lando felt himself immediately shaking his head, because no, you were definitely someone more than one driver had thought about being with, himself included, but he couldn’t very well just say that. 

Lando chose to stop and think about his next words carefully, not something he did often. 

“Look, it’s not like that, I just can’t explain it to you.” There was no way you were just going to accept that explanation, it didn’t stop Lando praying that you would. 

“And why not?” Of course you weren’t just going to accept it. 

“Because none of us want to die.” Lando dropped his head, elbows on the table and hands collapsed above his head, he questioned whatever god happened to exist why he had been born with the inability to say the right thing. 

“Why would any of the drivers die because they sent me flowers?” Nothing Lando had said had made any sense throughout this conversation. 

“You keep mentioning these flowers, what are the flowers?” Lando needed to change the direction of this conversation quickly, before he ended up spilling that Max was in love with you. 

“Oh,” finally there was a smile back on your face, “yesterday morning, my favourite flowers with a note was delivered to my room, but it didn’t have a name.” 

“So you’re trying to figure out who sent them?” Max, it was so obviously Max who sent it, how didn’t you know that?

“Yeah, me and Max came up with a list of all the drivers who it might be and so, yeah, I guess I’m just trying to figure it out,” you suddenly looked down again, face red with embarrassment, “but so far it isn’t going so great.” 

“I have a list of questions.” Lando had officially all but forgotten his breakfast, “First, did you just say Max is helping you figure out who sent you flowers?” You simply nodded in return. 

Lando often joked that he thought he was dumb, but he didn’t think he was that dumb, although, trying to piece together whatever was happening here was giving me a headache. 

“Okay, secondly, why isn't it going well?” Your blush deepened. 

“Well, between you and Daniel,” Lando spat out his drink. 

“Daniel?” You nodded as you wiped a few splatters of juice from yourself, slightly disgusted, “You flirted with Daniel? And Max knew about it?” 

“Yeah, of course, Max was super supportive, up until he told me Daniel only went for pretty girls.” All the neighbouring tables turned to look at you and Lando as he burst out laughing. Suddenly this was all starting to make a lot more sense. 

“Okay, okay, and this apparent list?” Lando had swung between terrified of what was happening to desperately needing to be involved in any way he could. 

“Well, the note was definitely from a driver,”  Of course it was, it was from Max, “but it didn’t have a name on it so me and Max came up with a list of drivers it could be.” Lando waved his hand in an attempt to urge you on as he continued to eat his breakfast, “so far, I’ve spoken to you and Daniel.”

“And nothing happened with Daniel right?” Lando needed to know where he stood. 

“Nope, rejected me, was nice about it though, but he did mention it might not be someone I expected, so I think he knows who sent them.” Yeah, so this confirmed it for Lando, Max was the one who had sent them, but why then hadn’t he said anything to you about it. 

“Okay, and the rest of the list?” You shoved a spoonful of muesli in your mouth before you continued, aware that Max would probably be heading down anytime now, so your free time was short. 

“Yeah, so i've checked you and Daniel, next is Carlos,” Lando’s eyebrows shot up, aware of how dangerous this was becoming for Max, “Then Yuki, George, Lewis, Charles and Pierre.”  

“No Max?” You laughed at the question. 

“Max? He’d never be interested in me” Oh, so it suddenly made sense to Lando, you were dumb and blind, no wonder this was so difficult, considering Max was just as dumb, “Although, Daniel did say the exact same thing.” 

“Interesting, and are you even interested in any of us?” The blush on your face indicated yes, so this then threw a spanner in the works, “I’ll take that as a yes, why not go straight to him?” 

“It’s complicated.” It was the only explanation you offered, so Lando had no choice but to accept it. 

“Need help?” He desperately wanted to see the shit show this was going to become. 

You nodded vigorously, “Please! Daniel knows all about it too, so if you maybe hear anything in the paddock, you’ll let me know?” 

“I’ll let you know everything I can.”And there was no way he was allowed to tell you about how Max felt. 

Seriously, how did you not know? 

With that you got up, stating you had to grab some stuff from your room before you headed out to the track,”Oh, when are you going to chat to Carlos?” 

You turned back to Lando, “Well, today? Why waste a perfectly good sundress?” 

Lando beamed at you, thinking he was excited for you and encouraging you to go for it, but in truth, Lando was just excited to see exactly how Max was going to handle all of this, especially when you looked that good. 

Maybe Lando could even out qualify him today?   

Just as Lando turned back to his breakfast, he was faced with both Max and Daniel pulling out chairs of their own, rather aggressively getting comfortable where you had just been. 

“What did she say to you?” Max was the first to speak. 

”Did you send the flowers?” Lando was starting to realise the power he held. 

“Obviously he sent the flowers, now what did she say to you?” Daniel this time. 

“Why didn’t you sign your name?” Lando could physically feel the pain Max was feeling from the sigh that left him. 

“Because he’s an idiot.” Daniel again, although this time with a massive grin, like he was enjoying this just as much as Lando was. 

“But it’s good because she said it’s creepy when your boss hits on you.” Max quickly corrected Daniel. 

“It’s a little different when you’re in love with each other.” Daniel nodded along to Landos comment, both looking at Max, an unspoken ‘I told you so’ floating on the air. 

“Has she said that she likes me?” It was meant to be a re=hetorical question from Max, because no, you hadn’t told anyone if you had feelings for anyone. 

“Well, she blushed when I asked if she was interested in any of the drivers, so there’s that.” Both Max and Daniel sat wide eyed at the information Lando had just casually dropped, seemingly unaware of both the devastation and the hope that simple sentence had held. 

“One of the drivers or one of the drivers on the list?” Daniel was dominating this conversation, Max seemingly too shocked to speak. 

“One of the drivers I presume.” Max was trying to process this information, this could either be really good or really bad for him. He was running through all of the information he had been presented with, vaguely aware that Daniel and Lando were speaking amongst themselves, no doubt thinking Max was a part of the conversation before Daniel startled him back into it, snapping his fingers in order to get his attention back to the conversation at hand. 

“Look, maybe that whatsapp group isn’t the worst idea, just me, you and Lando, that way we can keep tabs on things.” Daniel was already making the group as he spoke, a ping coming from the others phone with the notification. 

“Is Lando going to help?” Max felt like his brain wasn’t catching up with what was happening in front of him. 

“Of course I’m going to help.” Lando couldn’t stop smiling at how his weekend was suddenly turning out. 

“You want to see the shit show?”

“I want to see the shit show.” Lando affirmed exactly what Daniel had thought, “but considering I’m close with Carlos and that's who she’s going for next, well, I am a good person to have on your side.” 

“She’s going for Carlos next?” Max had returned to his natural panicked state this weekend, there was no way he could compete against Carlos. 

Oh god, if this is the driver you liked, Max was going to cry. 

“Yep, good old Carlos, with those spanish looks and charm and flirting skill and she’s wearing that sundress,” Lando prattled on as Max became more and more nervous. 

“You want to comment on her in that sundress again?” Max looked deadly and Lando’s smile only got wider. 

“Well, you did call her ugly and she did wear that dress for me.” Both Max and Lando were out of their chairs in seconds, the former chasing the latter as Lando ran away from him through the dining room laughing, Daniel quickly trailing after them. 

Next moment Lando had stopped dead in his tracks, Max shortly behind him as they both came crashing into you as you had re-entered the lobby in an attempt to find Max. 

“Whoa boys, what’s going on?” Lando quickly let go of your arms once you had both straightened, fully aware of Max standing behind him. 

“Nothing, just realised how late we all are, we should probably get going.” Again, Daniel being the voice of reason amongst them all.

 Lando quickly said his goodbyes and made his way back to grab his stuff, but Max barely acknowledged him, keeping his gaze on your arms where Lando had previously held you. 

“Max will meet you at the car now, just give me a second with him won’t you?” Daniel stood behind Max, his own eyes grazing down your body, knowing how much Carlos was going to enjoy this. Him and Max needed to come up with a plan that somehow now involved Lando too. 

“You guys sure everything is okay, you’re acting a little weird?” You eyed the two of them, Daniel smiling away, Max with a scowl on his face, not letting the nerves go. 

“Yeah, just pre-season jitters, we’ll see you at the car.” It wasn’t a question, Daniel was telling you to leave and this all felt like drama you did not want to get involved in, so you turned on your heel to make your way towards the entrance, stopping only momentarily when Max grabbed your bag out your hand, like he always did, always making sure to carry your belongings. You nodded a thank you and then you left, leaving the two drivers to hash out whatever they needed to before the first quali of the season. 

“Did you seriously call her ugly?” Daniel was standing in front of Max now, livid with his friend was an understatement. 

“It’s not what you think it is.” Internally Max was cringing, not wanting to have to explain the full story to Daniel. 

“Then what was it because man, that is not how you get the girl to like you.” Daniel wasn’t budging on this. Max was frustrating him more and more and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be helping him any more beyond this if Max wasn’t even going to try. 

“I might have said that I didn’t think you were interested in her because you only go for pretty girls.” The expression on Daniels face was unreadable. 

“You decided to use me as a way to knock her self esteem down a peg?” Dniels face might have been unreadable, but the tone of his voice indicated something very different. 

“I panicked! It just slipped out. I didn’t mean to, like, fuck, I didn’t mean to.” Daniel wasn’t buying a word Max was saying and he knew it, “I can’t lose her mate.”

“You’re going to if you don’t get your head out of your arse and start treating her fucking better. You understand? And I swear to god, if you use me as a way of insulting her again, Liam is going to be you racing in your place for the rest of the season. I am not the villain here mate, and I refuse to be made into one, you’ve already fulfilled that role.” The words stung, but he was right and everyone knew it, most of all Max. 

_____

“You ready for the first quali of the season?” Max had barely taken his seat in the car before you had started a conversation, your usually chipper self. A mood Max couldn’t reciprocate, not after what had just transpired between him and Daniel. 

“Yeah, it should be good.” His answers were short and clipped, not that you noticed though. 

“So it was a bust with Lando this morning, weirdly said that no driver would ever get me flowers so guess that's another hit to the ego.” You laughed along, hoping it would hide any real hurt you were feeling, but Max could pick it up from a mile away. 

“I didn’t mean you weren’t pretty, you know that right?” It was the first time he had really looked at you this morning and it was a mistake, because you sitting there, he felt his breathing hitch and it was as if he couldn’t peel his eyes away from you even if he tried. 

“I do, you’re too good to me Maxie, plus, you’re definitely a driver who gets me flowers so I guess there's that.” How did you not realise, how were you literally saying it yourself, but it still hadn’t clicked for you. What more was Max meant to do. Other than the obvious of just coming clean. 

“Yeah, I am.” Again, short, clipped, angry, but still you didn’t get it. 

“So, just a heads up, Horner wants a meeting with you first thing when we get to the track, so the second we get there, you need to go to him.” He nodded along, uncharacteristically quiet this morning. 

“Just me?” You snuck a glance at you, and there was that damn blush again. He watched you tuck your hair behind your ears, giving yourself  a moment to think before you replied. 

\

“Yeah, well, I thought that maybe I could go and chat to Carlos if he’s free.” The blush deepend and despite Max thinking earlier that he might potentially be the driver you were interested in, his hopes were suddenly being dashed looking at your response. Was Carlos the one? 

On top of it, if you went and spoke to Carlos first while he was in a meeting, then that gave him no chance to find him first and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake he had with Lando. 

“First thing this morning? Why not give it a little while until I’m done with my meeting? We can find him together?” That was the dumbest idea he had ever come up with  but he couldn’t concentrate between what Daniel had said to him, you sitting next to him in that goddamn red dress, the fact that he was about to lose you to one of his rivals in his sport and now his fucking phone was blowing up with messages and if things didn’t just calm down for a second and stop, he was going to lose his fucking mind. 

“You’re getting messages from some group, Max fucked up? Why do you have a group called Max fucked up?” He hadn’t been paying attention to what you were doing and completely missed it when you grabbed his phone, so used to organising his life for him. This action further proved to him just how much he trusted you, how easily you fit into his life. 

When his brain had finally caught up with what you were saying, he realised that this was the group Daniel had just set up, this entire group was about you and him. You could never see what was being said in that group. 

Max lunged towards you, grabbing his phone to prevent you from seeing anymore than you already had, “It’s a joke, a silly joke between me and Daniel, it's nothing to worry about it.” He watched you lift your hands up in defence, showing you were backing off, instead turning to the window, offering Max a moment of privacy as you sensed the urgency in his tone. 

MAX FUCKED UP

BigRicc: Lando, how quickly can you get to Carlos?

NoRizz: I can be at Ferrari the second I get there?

BigRicc: Good, do that, grab Carlos, get him away from the garage and make sure Y/n can’t interrupt you. 

NoRizz: Okay, on it, then what?

BigRicc: Explain it all to him. Tell him what’s going on and tell him he needs to like, reject her, but nicely. 

BigRicc: Can’t have another driver damaging her self esteem. 

NoRizz: Why aren’t you or Max doing this? 

BigRicc: We have meetings. 

BigRicc: I thought you wanted to help? 

NoRizz: No! I do! 

NoRizz: Do I tell him everything?

BigRicc: All of it. 

BigRicc: Like, all of it. 

BigRicc: Full Explanation. 

BigRicc: Especially the parts where Max fucked up. 

NoRizz: Should we add him to the group? 

BigRicc: As soon as you explain it, add him. That way he can keep us updated as the day goes. 

NoRizz: Yes Sir. 

BigRicc: Remember, you have to beat her there, so just, run. 

BigRicc: The fate of this season rests with you Lando. 

NoRizz: Me?? Why me?

BigRicc: You want to race against an angry Verstappen for the rest of the season?

NoRizz: Fuck. 

NoRizz: I’m Running. 

Maxie: Don’t tell him I called her ugly. 

NoRizz: Daniel said all the times you fucked up so... 

BigRicc: Fuck you Max. 

NoRizz: Yeah, fuck you Max. 

Maxie: Yeah, fuck me, 

___________

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 

cat-sitter | max verstappen

max verstappen x roommate!reader

You’re Max’s cat sitter but maybe you were than that.

prompt: Fixing each other’s clothes (+ saying “you look good.”)

beachy’s masterlist🐚

Max was always on the move, his busy schedule keeping him away from home more often than not. Jimmy and Sassy, were his babies, but their care became difficult with his constant travel. After a series of unreliable pet sitters, Max decided to find a live-in cat sitter, someone who could provide consistent care and companionship for his beloved kitties.

You, an animal lover with loads pet care experience, stumbled upon Max’s ad. The idea of living in a luxurious apartment while taking care of two adorable cats was too good to pass up, especially given the high cost of living in Monaco. After a successful interview and trial period, you settled in.

Jimmy and Sassy quickly bonded with you. Your affectionate nature filling the apartment with warmth. Over time, You and Max developed a close friendship, sharing stories and experiences from different worlds. The arrangement was perfect, and you were more than just a cat-sitter —you were what Max considering a close friend and maybe he developed a crush on you, but you didn’t know that.

- ✰ -

Max was getting ready for an important gala. The apartment was a mess multiple dress shirts and shoes thrown around, you lounged comfortably in your comfy clothes, enjoying watching TV with Jimmy and Sassy. Max emerged from his room, struggling with the buttons on his dress shirt, his cheeks flushed from anger, you assumed.

“You look like you could use some help,” you teased, noticing his frustration.

He glanced at you, a sheepish smile on his face. “Yeah, these buttons are impossible.”

You walked over and began to button his shirt, your fingers moving deftly over the fabric. Max watched you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Thanks,” he said as you finished, adjusting his collar.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. “You look good,” you muttered quietly, almost to yourself, as your hands smoothed out the chest of his shirt.

Max’s gaze softened, his expression warm. “You look good too,” he replied, his voice just as soft.

For a moment, you both stood there, the air between you thick with tension. Your heart raced, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. Both of you jumping apart hearing Sassy yowl, you smile softly.

“I should let you finish getting ready and go check on them,” you said, turning to walk away.

Max watched you, disappointment in his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the gala? It could be fun.”

You shook your head, a shy smile on your lips. “No, thanks. You go have fun.”

As you walked away, you could feel Max’s eyes on you. He sighed, feeling a pang of disappointment. The gala was a prestigious event, but the thought of going without you felt strangely hollow.

You sat down looking at Sassy and Jimmy who know stare at you, bored looks on their faces, “cockblockers,” you mutter turing back to your show.

Max came out, clearing his throat you and the cats turn around, Sassy scans him up and down then goes back to sleeping in your lap.

“So how do I look?” he asks, messing with his watch you scan him swallowing deeply, “Uh you look good, you’re going to have women all over you.” you say giving him a smile, his eyes light up you both stand their looking at each other before his phone rings, “it’s Yazmin,” he says, your heart drops to your ass.

Yazmin was a girl Max went on a few dates with but they never made it official, “She’s going by to the gala too?” you ask trying not to sound jealous.

“Uh yeah, great PR y’know.” he chuckles awkwardly, your smiles fades, but you nod.

“You should get going Max, traffic is going to be bad.” you say monotonely facing the TV.

“Right, you sure you’re good here?” he asks you only give him a nod, he sighs giving one last glance before closing the door behind him.

Max attended the gala, but his heart wasn’t in it. He mingled with the who’s who of the racing world, smiling for the cameras and making small talk. Yazmin clung to his arm, her laughter loud and her comments superficial.

“Did you see the shoes she was wearing?” Yazmin whispered to Max, pointing discreetly at a woman across the room. “quite hideous, don’t you think?”

Max forced a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

As the night went on, Yazmin’s became more apparent. She wrinkled her nose at a charity auction for an animal shelter. “Ugh, why would anyone waste money on stray animals?”

Max winced, thinking of you and your gentle way with Jimmy and Sassy. He excused himself and checked his phone, hoping for a message from you. There was nothing. Yazmin noticed his distraction.

“Max, are you even listening to me?” she snapped.

“Sorry, Yaz. I just… I need some air,” he said, stepping outside to clear his head.

Back at the apartment, you tried to focus on the show, but your mind kept replaying the earlier moment with Max. The way he looked at you, his soft compliment, and the unexpected tension between you left you feeling confused. Jimmy and Sassy sensed your unease and cuddled closer, their purring a soothing comfort.

You wondered how Max was doing at the gala. A part of you regretted not going, but the idea of seeing him with Yazmin had been too much to bear. You sighed, deciding to make the most of the quiet evening.

The gala finally ended, and Max found himself eager to leave. He looked around for Yazmin and was met with the sight of her sucking faces with a boy way younger than her. Upon closer look, he realized the boy was an F2 driver. Max grimaced but said his goodbyes and made his way back to the apartment, feeling a sense of relief as he stepped through the door.

The quietness of the place felt like a balm to his soul. Jimmy greeted him with sleepy purrs, his warm body weaving around his legs.

Max looked around, hoping to see you. He found you in the living room, the TV still on, but you were fast asleep on the couch. He smiled softly, feeling a surge of affection. You looked peaceful, one hand resting on Sassy, who was curled up beside you.

He approached quietly, not wanting to wake you, but Jimmy beat him to it, meowing loudly. You stirred, blinking up at Max with sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” you murmured, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “How was the gala?”

Max shrugged, his eyes never leaving yours. “It was okay. Missed you there, though.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. “I didn’t think it was my kind of scene.”

Max nodded, understanding. “I get it. But it would have been more fun with you there.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier replaced by a warmth. Max took a seat beside you, his proximity sending a flutter through your stomach.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said earlier.”

Your heart raced. “What do you mean?”

Max looked at you, his gaze intense. “When you said I looked good. It meant a lot coming from you.”

You smiled shyly. “Well, you did. You do.”

Max reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “And you look good too. You always do.”

The air between you thickened again, but this time, it felt different—more certain, more intimate. Max leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“Max,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” he replied, his breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated for a moment before closing the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. Max responded immediately, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss. The kiss quickly grew more intense, and you found yourself laying back on the couch, Max’s body hovering over yours.

His lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The feel of his weight on you, the taste of him, it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. You stared up at Max, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What about Yazmin?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

Max smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “She found an F2 driver.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through you. Max brushed a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek.

“You sure you don’t want to come to the next gala?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

You smiled up at him. “I’ll go with you anywhere.”

He grinned, leaning down to peck your lips, both of you smiling softly at each other.

“Good to know.” he murmured, nestling himself into your neck.

Bad boy max keeps me fed🤭

race for your heart | mv1

summary: you’re not meant to be there, but you can’t stay away, especially not from the racer who can’t stop winning.

pairing: illegal street racer!max x fem!reader

an: might be my fave thing i’ve ever written. thinking of making this a mini series, thoughts? i’m also not an illegal street racer and have never seen one so might not be accurate x

word count: 3.7k

warnings: illegal, police chase, speeding, mentions of drugs and dodgy men

feedback appreciated and requests open!!

…

You'd been here a few times before, not regularly, never more than twice a month, but enough times to know how everything goes. You weren't meant to be here the first time, you found it by a complete accident but you were grateful now. It filled you with both excitement and dread to be here. It was illegal and wrong, nevermind the fact someone could die.

The place was crawling with creeps and criminals everywhere, one wrong move or one wrong sentence could get you on the wrong side of some dangerous people, but you lived for the thrill. The danger of the drive, and watching the drivers do it. In brand new sports cars you could only dream of affording. You didn't really know much about the drivers, except one.

Max.

He caught your eye instantly when you'd first shown. He was stood there, head to toe in black, his arm placed carefully on his car, showing off all the right bits. He was the reason you kept coming back. He was fast, quicker than all the other drivers, and everyone knew it. He was the one people wanted to challenge, to beat, but they never seemed to.

You'd seen the bets. The money people were giving to the winner after every race. More money than you knew what to do with. You craved it, the luxury and the lifestyle, but it seemed impossible. You weren't a fast driver, and you weren't a criminal by any means yet you still found yourself drawn here every time. And drawn to the driver everyone deemed untouchable.

He was the same today: a winner. You never expected any different, no one did. All the prizes were handed to him on a gold platter. Crowds cheered for him, men patting him on the back as he got out of his car to grab a beer. He met your eye again as he sat at the bar. He was left alone now, the crowds already moving on to the next big thing to talk about. He didn't look away, and for the second time, he found himself walking over to you.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here alone, again?" He grumbled, taking a sip of his beer. He changed his clothes after the race, now dressed in a white button-down and jeans.

He was weary of you the first time you met. You looked lost, you were, and you were not the kind of person to be here. You looked too pure and good to be surrounded by lousy criminals with more money than they knew what to do with. He wondered if you were with the police, trying to scope out the area and shut it down, but he learned quickly he was wrong.

You explained you were lost and he blindly believed you. He was worried once you figured out what you were doing that you would go to the police but he made you promise you wouldn't, and after he watched how your knees went weak after he called you a "good girl," he knew you wouldn't.

He saw you the next few times you went, looking less and less lost every time, but he never caught your eye long enough to feel confident in walking over. "Can you imagine that?" He thought to himself, "I'm treated as though I'm a fucking god around here and I still can't talk to a girl." He beat himself down over it, watching you interact with people he never wanted you to talk to, in fear they'd ruin the pure image he'd created of you in his head. So he watched from afar, giving creeps the eye long enough to scare them off. Of course, you didn't know it was him sending these men away, but sometimes you were grateful and other times you weren't. He felt bad for a moment before not caring again. "It's to keep her safe," he promised to himself every time.

You didn't reply to him immediately, instead drinking in his appearance: the way his face looked under the moonlight, the way his jaw locked when you didn't reply, and the way his shirt stretched over his muscles perfectly, letting you see everything.

"So?" he replied, smirking, watching you look him up and down more times than he could count, "are you going to answer me?"

You're eyes flew to his face again, watching as he became more confident the longer he saw you looking.

"What did you ask?" you mumbled, holding eye contact.

"I said: "What's a pretty girl like you doing here alone, again?" Think you can answer that?" he challenged, taking a step closer. He saw what he did to other girls, how he made them crumble, but nothing compared to you, and how he loved watching his effect on you.

"I- well, I just came for a beer?" you answered, sounding more unconfident the more you went on. You knew why you were here: because you liked it, but you didn't want to. It was criminal yet here you were, enjoying the thrill and the danger. And watching Max, racing or not.

"And the last time? And the time before that? You don't seem like the type of girl to go out drinking alone, especially to the type of place so dirty and illegal." He asked, teasing, stepping closer once again. His voice was growing louder even as he got closer until he was touching you and leaning down to whisper in your ear, "I think you like it, don't you?"

Your body shuddered at the closeness, your hand flying straight to his arm to keep balance. Instead, you made it worse for yourself, grabbing straight onto his muscles, and turning your face the slightest shade of red. You hoped Max wouldn't be able to see - you were too close and there wasn't much light, but you were very wrong. Crowds moved everywhere around you, but all of Max's focus was on you. It was impossible for him not to notice, he was trying to pick up on every detail that he could about you.

His head lifted back up so you could see him fully like he could see you. Your faces were barely apart, a few centimetres at best, but it still messed with your head, a million thoughts flying everywhere at once until there were none. None other than Max and what his lips would feel like pressed against yours.

You let out the slightest nod as a response to his question. You didn't want to admit you liked it but with Max so close to you it was the only reaction you could even fathom of giving. He was messing with your head and he hasn't even done anything yet.

"Are you going to answer me like a good girl or just stand there?" he says, with the cockiest attitude you'd ever seen. He knew what he did to you, and what else those two little words would do, and he loved it.

Before you got the chance to reply, you felt pressure on your back and you were pushed into Max. He grabbed you and kept you upright, but he couldn't miss the sudden uproar of the crowd and the fact they were all running in the same direction.

He gave you a once over to make sure you were alright before looking forward to try to see what was happening. People were screaming and running and he couldn't tell why. His arms wrapped around you in a protective manner, pulling you closer in an attempt to keep you safe.

So many people were shouting at him and he couldn't make out what anyone was saying. He was trying to figure it out but it seemed impossible. You were almost pushed again but the person managed to stop themselves. Max didn't care, he was almost starting to shout at them for their recklessness until he finally found out what was happening.

"Police! Run!" the man screamed at him before carrying on running himself. It was like his fight or flight mode kicked in and he wasn't going to get caught.

"My car," he said as he realised an escape plane, telling you at the same time. He found your hand and took off running, dragging you with him. He led you both to the side of the crowd so that you wouldn't get lost and led you quickly to his car.

Police were everywhere, especially near the cars. They were parked on the road but out of the way of the runners. Many of them were unregistered or stolen, and others held bags upon bags of drugs. Police were stood by his car, trying to look inside the windows for anything immediately suspicious. They were covering the drivers side and he knew he would have to be fast.

"When I jump across to the drivers side, get into the passenger seat and shut the door," he called back to you. You processed the information, barely, and nodded, but Max was already focused on using his free hand to find his keys.

He got them, twisting them around, and unlocking the car just as he was about to reach it. The police were looking in the backseat, but were too slow to process the flashing orange lights and the doors at the opposite side opening.

Max leaped in and switched sides like a machine, doing it with so much ease it seemed impossible. He grabbed the driver's side door, holding it close as officers tried to open it.

"Get in," he screamed, watching as you paused for a moment. You made eye contact with an officer whilst quickly overthinking your whole life up until this moment. How did this happen?

You couldn't think much longer and you got inside, shutting the door shut with a slam. You let out a sigh of relief much too quickly as your breath hitched with the speed the car had just started.

Max locked the doors and took off in a flash. The car sped up in an instant, going to speeds you never dreamed of. Max was absorbed into the roads, dodging people and officers as he tried to escape.

Your hand gripped the seats until your knuckles were white; this was not a situation you ever wanted to be in. Max noticed, taking his eyes off of the road every few seconds to double-check you were okay.

"I do this every day and I've never got hurt," his eyes flicked back to your face after trying to reassure you, which was obviously failing.

"You won't get into trouble with the police either." he tried again. After looking at you again, he realised how badly he was failing. He didn't know what to do. He was fine in situations like these and had never had to comfort anyone. Every solution was running through his mind, not only to get out of here safe and alive but to make sure you knew that.

"Hold my hand," he ordered softly, holding out his hand for you to grab.

"Don't you need to focus on driving?" you questioned, worried. He laughed and lifted his other hand off of the wheel too. When he saw your face he immediately put it back on but kept the other outstretched for you to grab.

You looked at it for a second before grabbing it, interlacing your fingers together, and bringing your hands to rest on top of your thighs. His thumb immediately started traveling back and forth along the back of your hand as you decided to focus on that rather than the road in front of you.

"I promise you I will keep you safe. Nothing bad will happen," he spoke gently. He smiled at you, not that you were looking, but he thought that it might lift the mood anyway. "Trust me," he added, in the softest tone he thought he'd ever spoken with. He shook his head - he was going soft for a girl he's only ever spoken to twice.

You nodded gently, genuinely trusting him for a moment. That all faded when you started hearing sirens in the distance, getting closer and closer.

Max looked through the wing mirrors before speeding up the car even more. You subconsciously squeezed his hand more, gripping it like a vice.

"Okay, pretty girl, I'm going to need my hand back but it's only to keep you safe. I promise I'm going to keep you safe." You didn't believe him but you tried anyway.

You let go of his hand reluctantly, going back to squeezing the seats. You let out a shaky breath and tried to see what was going on behind you. You were on a motorway, going much higher than the speed limit. You could see three police cars in your view, all trying to catch you up.

Max hit the pedal again, speeding up impossibly faster. His eyes were on the road, occasionally on the police behind him and occasionally on you. If he had it his way, they'd be always on you, but he promised to keep you safe and was doing his damn best to keep it.

"We're going faster than their cars can physically go. We'll lose them in no time." He did another once over of you, taking in how petrified you looked once again. "Sitting so tense is going to make you more tense. I don't want you to worry yourself sick."

"Sorry," you mumbled, taking a quick look in the mirrors to see the police much further in the distance than you thought they would be.

"Don't apologise, pretty girl." he spoke, moving the car to the first lane.

He went round a sharp turn, almost heading onto a junction exit but only just missing it. He sped up again, heading around the next corner with flying speed.

"The police will think we just turned off, we'll turn off at the next one." You just nodded, going along with everything. You barely knew the man yet you were on a literal police chase with him.

He slowed the car down to a normal speed, placing his hand back into yours, "see, we're okay."

"We're okay," you repeated, trying to reassure yourself. His thumb was back to tracing lines on the back of your hand and it was helping you more than you'd like to admit.

It wasn't long until you turned off, traveling at a normal speed down some city suburb roads. You headed into an area you'd never seen, full of some of the biggest houses you imagined the city had to offer. You didn't even know where you were going yet you trusted Max blindly.

He parked in front of a huge residence, with all sorts of fancy cars parked in front. You imagined multiple massive families could live there with tonnes of spare space due to the sheer size of the front alone. It was truly extraordinanry.

"Where are we?" You questioned. Max had turned off the car and leaned back in his seat. His hand never left yours, and his thumb never stopped brushing back and forth.

"My home," he spoke, watching your face convey more emotions than he thought was possible. Your mind was racing a mile a minute: what did he want from you? was he kidnapping you? did he want something in return for saving you? You didn't like the thought of what was happening at all but Max read you easily.

"I can drive you back home if you'd prefer. Or take you somewhere, get you a hotel, anything," he spoke sincerely. He fully believed anything you'd want him to do, he would do for you, and he would go to the ends of the world to do it.

"I don't think I can be alone right now." You said, training your eyes onto yours and Max's hand.

"I can take you to a friend's? I can stay with you? I can take you somewhere crowded? Whatever you want me to do, I will do." He said, promising himself he would do whatever you wanted.

It was stupid - so stupid - the way Max had made you feel safe and the fact you wanted to stay by him. Not one thing led to the conclusion that he was a good man yet you still wanted to stay.

"My house is probably over an hour away." You knew Max could drive fast, you knew he could get you there much quicker but you didn't want to leave him. You looked out the window, at his house.

Max saw the way you looked at it, longingly yet worriedly. He didn't want to push you to make a decision, he wanted you to say it himself. He gave you hand a few reassuring squeezes, urging you to say what you felt.

"I want to stay with you," you whispered. You still stared at his house in horror and amusement. Max could see you in the reflection and could feel the worry radiating off you - he wanted nothing more than to make you feel safe.

"Let's go to a hotel." he said, your head immediately flicking back to look at his, "We can get different rooms if you'd like, but if you'd feel more comfortable there, we can go. It's no problem at all."

"Yes please," you nodded, grateful for Max's thinking. The more he was talking, the more comfortable and safe you felt around him. Past you would probably be calling yourself stupid in every way you knew how, but you felt like it'd be okay this time.

He drove off carefully, sticking to all the speed limits, something he rarely did when he was alone. He took you to a nearby hotel, only a ten-minute drive away. It was a lovely-looking hotel, something you'd never check yourself into though when you could just get the classic cheap ones that always worked fine.

"You okay?" Max asked carefully as you peered outside.

"This looks expensive, Max."

God, he loved when you said his name. You hadn't said it a lot but he felt like he could get addicted every time.

He chuckled in amusement, "I've got more money than I could use if I tried, it's on me."

You nodded and opened the car door, unfortunately dropping Max's hand in the process. Not for long though, as Max whipped around the side of the car to grab it again after muttering a small, "let me open it for you next time," to you.

He ordered two separate rooms but made sure they were next to each other and handed you both keys to your room and the spare keys to his, making you promise to let yourself in of you needed anything.

You felt yourself drawn to him, becoming disappointed as he left you to your own room, longing for more. You led in bed, in the same clothes you'd been wearing all day, wanting nothing more than to just be with him again.

You also couldn't stop thinking about the night that passed and how it could've ended much differently. You were reckless and a complete disaster of a person but you didn't think you would change it if you could.

So you left. You got all your belongings and you knocked on Max's room. He opened the door rather quickly, with a sudden look of confusion on his face when he realised it was you.

His hair was messy and stuck up in every direction but he still looked flawless. He had no shirt or pants on, just boxers, and you couldn't help but admire his whole body.

"Are you okay? Just let yourself in next time. What happened?" he asked frantically, worry laced all over his voice.

"Can I stay with you?" You asked nervously, refusing to look at his face.

"Of course, pretty girl," he replied with no hesitation, he would do anything to have you nearby. He stepped aside and welcomed you in, taking everything out of your hands and placing it on a table.

"You take the bed. I can either join you, take the sofa out here or take the chair in the bed room. And here," he said, picking up the shirt he'd changed into after racing, "take this, you can't be comfortable sleeping in that."

You took the shirt with a "thank you," and got changed in the bedroom. The shirt was long enough that you couldn't see anything if you tried, and it was incredibly comfy.

You poked your head out of the bedroom to see Max half asleep with his head in his hands. You gently called his name, his head jolting suddenly towards you.

"Will you stay with me?" you asked, a lot more confidently than before, but still a little shaky.

Max got up with a nod and headed inside the bedroom. He watched you get comfortable in bed and snuggled into the side you hadn't chosen.

You immediately moved towards him, throwing a leg over his, and your head on top of his chest. His arms moved instinctively around you, pulling you impossibly closer. He was so tired but wasn't going to waste an opportunity of staring at you a little longer.

"Sorry the night didn't turn out how you planned," he mumbled, wanting so badly to kiss your forehead but didn't want to overstep boundaries, "and sorry for scaring you."

"It's okay Max," you whispered, turning your head to kiss his chest ever so delicately. He decided to kiss your head in retaliation, smiling all the way through it.

"Tell me if you want to go again and I'll be there," he chuckled against your head, "goodnight, pretty girl."

"Goodnight, Max."

…

this might be my favourite thing i’ve ever written so reblogs and feedback would be really appreciated !! :) also thinking of making this a mini series, thoughts?

HEYYY!!! I’ve been looking at smut prompts all day and my brain is packed w fic ideas. May i request a mv1 fic with prompts “no underwear?”, “did you wear this just for me?” and “dont worry about the damn clothes, i’ll just buy you new ones” with spanish!reader and kind of like friends w tension vibes???

i want you all to myself

★ : feat :: max verstappen x reader ★ : genre :: mature ★ : word count :: 800 ★ : a/n :: this is not a tease, i genuinely don't think i can write good smut. but tension and yearning? hell yeah! not specifically spanish!reader because i wasn't sure what you wanted me to add for that.

The air crackled with tension as you stood face to face with Max, his gaze intense, almost palpable against your skin. Your heart raced with anticipation, every nerve on edge, as you waited for him to speak.

Max broke the silence, his voice teasing yet laced with an unmistakable desire that sent shivers down your spine. ”No underwear?” he hissed, his tone suggestive, his eyes lingering on you with a mix of amusement and something deeper.

”Oh.” You taunted, reveling in the way he struggled to maintain his composure. A coy smile playing on your lips as you watched his face flush and his hands clench tightly. ”Don't hold back on my account.”

You forced a casual smile, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him.

His breath caught in his throat as he struggled to find words, his eyes never leaving yours. ”Did you wear this just for me, darling?” Max's voice wavered slightly, betraying the intensity of his longing as he shamelessly eyed you.

Your lips curved into a smirk as you closed the distance, his eyes never leaving yours. ”Maybe I did,” you admitted, keeping your voice low, delighted to see the effect that had on Max.

Max groaned before reaching forward for the fabric of your dress, his fingers tightening around it as he pulled you closer. He looked at you as if he was mad as to why you were still not losing your sanity like he was.

Not knowing that the only reason you had pulled this stunt was because your patience had run dry.

The tension between you was palpable, a silent dance of desire and uncertainty as you stood locked in a silent exchange, each daring the other to make a move. That was before he aimlessly pushed forward and the sound of your poor dress echoed in the silence.

You gasped and tried to pry away but Max instead pulled you closer, resting his forehead on yours. His skin flushed as he sighed to stay calm and get himself together.

”Don't worry about the damn clothes,” Max grunted, his voice sending a rush of heat through your veins. Frustratingly pulling the torn material down your body in a frantic manner. ”I'll just buy you new ones.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a surge of insecurity washing over you, making you hold his hands under yours, not letting him see you yet. ”You'll buy me new ones, huh?”

Before you could carry on, your lips met in a heated kiss, so hard that the back of your neck, from where he grabbed you, pulsed. However, it had such a good effect making your legs shudder as ou sighed against his mouth.

Max was panting as he hurriedly tried to swallow all of your breaths and it made so much sense. As your lips moved together, you realized how much sense you guys made, how well you fit together.

Even as you surrendered to the passion, a nagging fear lingered in the back of your mind. It felt so insatiably good but you knew you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you were to just ruin all this for a sultry desperate explosion. When it was painfully obvious that you ached for more

”I don't wanna do this just for one night,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with uncertainty. ”I want us to stay...” ‘Friends,’ would’ve been a lie so for the lack of a better term, you refrained from putting any labels.

Max pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours with a depth that took your breath away. ”I'm not going anywhere,” he assured you, his voice soft but firm. ”I wish I could wait, but baby, I- I want more, right now. I want you.”

Relief flooded through you at his words, comically short lived, because not even a second later, it got mingled with the desire that burned hot and fierce within you. ”I want you too,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you melted into his embrace. ”Really badly.”

Max pulled you in for another kiss and you almost lost it on the spot when he smirked against your mouth.

”You’re gonna ruin everyone else for me, huh?” He laughed in disbelief and if you weren’t as overwhelmed as you were, you might have scoffed but instead you squeezed his body under your palms.

Max’s eyes dilating as soon as you said your next words as you pushed the flimsy material off your body.

”You already have.”

(grid masterlist \ masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

max verstappen boyfriend texts

( bf texts masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★ : pairing :: max verstappen x reader ★ : genre :: crack; mature ★ : a/n :: making texts is so fun especially because i have no time to write anything currently

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

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

Yours Or Mine

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x eng!Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: Switching Teams seemed like a bad idea until it wasn't? Or was it?

Genere: Angst, little fluff here and there, I feel like there will be some drama along the way lol

Warnings: strong language I'll add more along the way if there's any

Word count: 520

Chapter one: The Begging of the end

Mercedes was the dream. the one you worked all your life for, so why they are letting you go now?

"listen to me, I hate to see you go but look at the good side it'll be for one season only"

' no cause what the hell are you talking about lew? I feel like I'm getting thrown away and to who? To red bull? To max? really?'

"it's not like that, we're not throwing you away, you're the best aerodynamics engineer we have"

'then why letting me go lewis? Why?' at this point, you've lost it, you're eyes are getting teary and it's hard to see already

"because that was the deal, you know if it was up to me I would never do that to you. now stop crying please let's not make this harder" he said while hugging you.

When you first came to Mercedes you were in an awe, achieving your dreams and all inspired you to work hard to prove yourself, you kept your interactions with everyone friendly at first until one time...

The whole team went out to celebrate after lewis won a race. It was a fun night where you all danced and had drinks.

You and lewis shared a deep conversation that night and since then the people who were once your coworkers became your family, your new home.

So that's why it hurts, having to wear a red bull t-shirt for the season hurts.

You've never liked max as a person, it's just something about his aura that felt off to you. So even if you accepted the term of changing teams, you'll never accept working directly with max it doesn't matter which team he's in. Working with him was definitely out of your list of wishes.

When you went home, the thoughts of starting the season with a new team filled your mind. You knew you had to keep it professional, you have to accept it, but in the same time you didn't know if you are capable of doing that.

The sound of your phone ringing disturbed your thoughts...

"hello"

'hey'

"how are you doing now?"

'still terrible lew' you heard him sigh once you answered him

"I'm sorry.."

'don't.. It's not your fault there's nothing we can do but to accept this'

"but you know it doesn't change anything between us right? You will always be ours"

'I know...but not for this season'

"___"

he sighed again, the way he said your name gave you goosebumps. You and lewis always had this thing between you two. The affect he has on you, it's like electricity every time he says your name specially when he says it like that.

'I'm just saying the truth lew'

"I know.."

You both stayed silent for a few moments, just listening to each other breath until lewis decided to speak again

"I'll miss you" you felt your heart bounding fast like the race cars you see almost every day

'I'll miss you too lew'

Working with max sucks but not being able to see or talk with lewis again definitely sucks more.

A/N: for the first time writing here that wasn't too bad hehe, the reader literally hates max for no reason but she'll come around soon 🤫 please be patient with me I promise it's full of surprises and I would really like to hear your thoughts on this chapter 💕

loli's Masterlist

A/N: Hey everyone! I just wanted to note that in my fics the reader doesn't have a specific age and also doesn't belong to any specific race so you can imagine her however you want it to be 💕.

Always check the warnings of every fic before reading I'd hate to hurt anyone because of my content, but you're also responsible for what you read.

I'm currently writing for f1 but mainly lewis, I'll probably write about football players in the future.

Requests: open!

Leave a note, message or an ask to be added to my tag list

F1

Yours Or Mine

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x eng!Reader x Max Verstappen

Genere: Angst, some fluff, enemies to friends with max, maybe some drama in the future

Warnings: strong language, car accident will add more along the way

Summary: Switching Teams seemed like a bad idea until it wasn't? Or was it?

Chapter one

chapter two

Yours Or Mine

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x eng!Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: Switching Teams seemed like a bad idea until it wasn't? Or was it?

Genere: Angst, some fluff, enemies to friends with max

Warnings: strong language, car accident

Word count: 881

Masterlist

You don't know if you feel betrayed or if you feel like a cheater in your Red Bull T-shirt but you were definitely hurt. You were excited about the new season and the new beginning that it held but all that excitement died once you stepped your foot on Red Bull motorhome.

Chapter two: New Beginning

"welcome to the team!"

"welcome! We're excited to work with you"

"yeah! Hope you feel comfortable here"

'thank you guys, I really appreciate it' you smiled a little

You weren't expecting that, the welcoming and all made you feel warm inside. Maybe it wasn't that bad maybe you misunderstood max and he's a sweet person in the end of the day and you were just overthinking this. You hoped so and you also hope for the season to pass quickly so you can go back to where you belong..

The team meating wasn't bad at all, everyone was focused on the strategy and had the passion to win. Even max wasn't as bad as you thought. You thought that maybe with time you'll get around and learn how to work with them just like the way it happened in Mercedes.

After the meeting finished, you went with the rest of your colleagues to check the car one last time before the race starts and once you made sure everything is perfect you moved inside the motorhome again and waited for the race to start.

When the race started everything was fine until they collided, everything happened so quickly and you found both of Max and lewis out on the gravel. Lewis's car almost went to its side and You gasped, that wasn't a part of the plan. It didn't matter whose fault it was, you wouldn't want lewis to get hurt and in that moment you found yourself hating the season more.

You can't just run to Mercedes motorhome to check on lewis even if both of them had to retire from the race and you wouldn't be needed much here.

When max arrived you pulled him a side

'what the hell was that?'

"what the hell was what?" you can't believe that he actually looks confused

'that fucking clash max, what was that?'

"what do you mean what was that? It wasn't my fault I lost the grip, there's something wrong with the car" and at this point you were fuming

'there's nothing wrong with the car! I literally checked it before the race and everything was perfect'

"well apparently you don't know how to do your job so stop blaming me on something I had no control over"

'excuse you...'

"you heard what I said, you need to get your priorities straight. You're no longer in Mercedes, so stop concerning yourself with hamilton and focus in your job instead" he left you standing stunned. The bad thing that what he said wasn't wrong. You weren't at Mercedes anymore so if anything you should focus on max and max only, but how are you going to do that when all you can think about is lew?

Well maybe this season is going to be worse than you thought.

~

Later that day you called lewis after you went to your hotel room

'Hey'

"Hi"

'are you okay? You didn't get hurt, did you?' you were nervous to hear his answer

"yeah I'm good don't worry how about you? How was your first day?" you breathed in relief

'was worth than I thought' you heard him sigh

"what happened?"

'everything, you were in a crash in the first race of the season and there was nothing I could do, I got in an argument with max and I don't think I can continue like this'

"no wait a sec-why did you argue with max" oh shit. You definitely shouldn't have mentioned that. You can't just tell him that you argued with max because of him.

"hello? are you still here?"

'yeah yeah I hear you'

"so why did you and max argue"

'uhm he said that I'm not doing my job properly' that wasn't a lie but it wasn't the whole truth either. You're not going to tell him that you argued with max because you were too worried about him.

"what? Why would he say that?"

'I don't know let's just change the subject'  you knew if you two kept talking about max you'll expose yourself, you've been always a terrible liar specially when it comes to lewis

After finishing the call with lewis, you spend hours thinking because you've never been confused like that before. You don't adapt to changes easily, you loved being in Mercedes and you loved having lewis as a part of your team, but now you feel like you've lost him and you hated that. The connection you two had was like a magnet, you can't stay away from him too much, he is addictive and once you get closer to him you won't be able to get enough.

A/N: Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed today's chapters. This is literally the biggest thing I have ever written in my life so I'm kind of proud of it. I'd love to hear your feedback about today's chapter whether do you think there's too much details or if you think the story is moving quickly? I'd really love to hear your opinion because I want to improve and I want everything to make sense you know 😂 next chapter is going to take some time to be posted but hopefully it's going to be better and maybe longer 👀

He was a great person, kind hearted and always inspiring. No one could blame you for your feelings. But you hope that you would come around with time, because in the end of the day you may have lost lewis as a team mate but you still have him as a person right?

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313

Drabble No.1 F1 driver as your bf

OK but imagine you are dating a f1 driver, whichever you want, and they come home in a really bad mood because it was a shitty race and usually this results in two outcomes :

-> Comfort: Just a big grumpy baby that wants cuddles and kisses. Enjoying the peace and quiet in each other's arms as soothing words and sweet nothings are whispered. Nice hot shower (maybe?) to relieve all the emotional pressure and a nice dinner in bed while watching a movie <3

-> Fucking your brains out : Picture this ...

Him walking fast towards the apartment/house/whatever and letting the door slam shut. Him stalking towards you still in the racing suit, being sweaty and all. Easily picking you up and placing you in kitchen counter. Removing swiftly all your clothes and unzipping the suit letting it fall snuggly at his hips.

From then on being at his mercy. Because he has to let out all the frustration and what better way to do so than teasing his girl to the brink of insanity.

Or a more possible scenario .... Making you suck him off. Knowing that it will boost the much lowered self esteem. So you drop on your knees in front of him as he places a hand to you head, following our body. Teasing him in return. Starting by kissing the tip and licking him from the base to the tip. Slowly fitting him in your mouth and placing your hands underneath the low hanging racing suit, grabbing his ass and burying your nails there, leaving ten moonshaped marks. Moving your head even further, taking more of him in your mouth every single time. Until your nose is grazing his groin. And then letting his cock with a satisfying pop and switching to his balls. Sucking them as moans and groans leave him because he was so impossibly close and now you are purely torturing him in the best possible way.

But then when he has enough, the hand that was simply resting on your head, will grab a handful of your hair. Guiding you back to his cock, past your open lips. And setting a new pace by moving your face back and forth in a speed you could never move while fitting his cock in your mouth. His hips jerking and his ass clenching, trying to prolong the on coming orgasm but to no avail. And then he comes in your mouth, admiring your tear-stained face, as drool falls to your chin and your eyes are shining with lust, love and admiration. Officially losing himself to you.

Two Worlds Collided - Max Verstappen x reader

Max Verstappen xwolff!reader

Requested? Yes/No: how you doing ? 😛

can you do one that reader is Toto Wolff daughter and is dating Max please. Fluff and Angst scenarios please 🫶🏻Thank you 🥰

Summary: Dating the man that beat your Dad’s golden boy to his eighth world championship wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, slight smut-ish, swearing

Word Count: 5.7K

—

Everything started when your Dad sent you to get coffee for him. It should have been just a normal and relatively easy task but today the world wanted to make everything a lot harder for you. Toto wasn’t in the best of moods so you were doing your best not to annoy him further. Max and Lewis had taken one another out on the track in Italy and needless to say, he was pissed and blamed Max immediately. When you left he was writing out an email for the FIA in the hopes of getting Red Bull a penalty, something you didn’t want to be around for. 

You were rushing through the garages, frantically heading towards the Mercedes garage. Looking down at your phone you quickly checked the time to make sure you weren’t running too late when your body hit something solid. You felt yourself falling back as you dropped the coffee’s but before you could hit the ground a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist and held you close to their chest. Your eyes darted up to meet theirs. 

Max Verstappen… shit…

“Good thing this suit is fireproof.” He glanced down at the coffee stains on his racing suit. “Otherwise maybe the press would believe that Mercedes have a vendetta against me.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You tried your best not to stumble over your words as you spoke. 

“It’s fine, I’m not exactly in pain.” He gave a light smile. “Just a bit damp.” His eyes met yours as his smile grew. 

Max was known as someone who could never control his temper, a stone-cold dirty driver that wanted to win no matter what. He wouldn't care if he’d sent someone flying odd the track and into the wall or if he crashed into someone to stop them from winning, as long as he came out on top he didn't care. Toto and the rest of the garage hated him, sure he would give him credit where credit was due for his driving but other than that Toto hated him.

“You’re Toto’s daughter, right?” Max’s words grabbed your attention. 

“I am.” 

Max gave you a look before breaking out another smile. “And how’s that for you?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he spoke. “Stressful clearly.” His eyes trailed your body, smirking at the small coffee stains on your white Mercedes shirt. 

Your eyes followed his and fell onto your chest. “Fuck sake.”

“I’ve got a spare shirt in my room if you want it.” 

“If I get caught anywhere near you I’ll be killed -” You found your feet and pushed yourself away from his grip, weary anyone was watching.

“Just like your father, dramatic.” He smirked. “I have a spare shirt -”

“I’m not wearing a Red Bull shirt!”

“Relax, it’s just plain white. I’ll get your one washed and you’ll have it by the end of the day. Your Dad won’t ever need to know.”

“You think he won’t notice?” You looked at him like he was insane. 

“Just lie to him,” Max said like it was nothing. 

“Lie to him?” You looked at him in disbelief. “Sorry, but do you know who my Dad is?”

Max took a step closer to you, looking down at you with a smirk. “It’s a shirt, come to my room and get changed and whilst you do that I’ll go and replace those coffee’s that way Toto will be too distracted by his drink to notice, sound fair?” 

You shouldn’t have followed him to his driver's room but you did. You knew if you were caught Toto would never let you turn up to a race ever again but you also knew he’d lose his shit if you didn’t turn up the coffee. You may have been his daughter but the man was under horrific stress. Lewis was currently battling things out with Max on the track in order to win his eighth world title and Toto was feeling every single inch of pressure. 

You told Max what drinks you were once holding as you stepped into his room, his spare shirt on the side. You scanned his room, smiling to yourself as you saw the photos of him and his family around the room. It was clear this was the side of Max that others didn’t know. With drive to survive taking over fans' screens, it was clear Max was painted in a different light. No wonder why he refused to take part in the show this year. 

Maybe he wasn’t all bad…

“Everything okay?” A soft knock at the door tore your eyes away from the photos as you changed.

“Fine.” You called back before opening the door to see Max holding all the drinks you once were. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” He smiled back. 

“You haven’t poisoned them have you?” You raised your brow as you took the drinks into your own hands. 

“You know I’m not as bad as the press makes me out to be.” His words were soft. You looked up at him to be met with his sad gaze. “I’m not like what they say.” He moved to sit down, closing the door behind him. “I just want to win.”

“They all do.” You replied, setting the coffee aside. “It just comes down to who wants it more, if you want it more than Lewis you’ll get it.”

“Do you think I can beat Lewis this season?”

You shrugged, moving to lean against the table. “That’s not for me to say -”

“Oh come on there’s no one here.” Max arched his brows. “I won’t snitch.” His lips turned up in a smirk. “Your secret is safe with me, Wolff.”

“You think I’m afraid of the press?”

“It’s not the press I think you’re worried about… I think you’re more afraid of your Dad finding out.”

“Could say the same about you, what would Jos Verstappen think if he found out that his son had the daughter of Toto Wolff in his room?”

“And what would Toto Wolff do if he found out his daughter was with his driver's rival?”

“I’m my own person you know Verstappen.”

“I could say the same thing.” Max leant back in his spot, his eyes trailing your body. “You look good in my shirt -”

“It’s a plain white shirt Verstappen, not exactly something with your name written on it.” 

“Give it time.” He winked, earning you to roll your eyes. 

“Well on that note I need to get back to the Mercedes garage, I’m already late so -”

“What hotel room are you in?” He suddenly cut you off. 

“Why would you need to know that?”

“So I can return your shirt.”

Fair play Verstappen.

“Room fifty-seven.” You smiled back. “Thank you for that.” You picked the coffee’s up once again. “I appreciate it.” 

“You won’t be spotted leaving, no one ever comes back here when they know I’m in here.”

“Why? You scare them that much?” A smile formed on your lips. 

“They know not to bother me.” He smiled back. 

“Thank you Verstappen.” You nodded, sending him a final goodbye as you left. 

That wasn’t the last meeting you’d have with Max, far from it in fact. He came to your hotel room that night and he didn’t exactly drop off your shirt and leave. He had qualified that day and the two of you ended up spending the night talking about what had taken place. Max opened up to you and you opened up to him. The pair of you both had a Dad in the spotlight and the world was watching you both to see if you lived up to your father’s spotlight. 

The next day was the day of the Russian Grand Prix. Lewis desperately wanted a win and needless to say he succeeded with him taking home the trophy and Max coming in a close second. It was rare Lewis ever wanted to go out and celebrate, normally he would have a chilled evening with the team and then head off to bed but tonight was different. He’d asked you to join him and you happily agreed. 

You’d gone out with a few drivers before, mainly Lando and Daniel but you never stayed too long. You knew Toto didn’t like you being around certain drivers, he knew what they were like and the last thing he wanted for his daughter was to get her heart broken by some basic rich boy.  Toto always wanted Lewis to be present if you went out with another driver, just because he knew he could trust him but Toto never accounted for the times you’d be alone in the hotel hallways. 

“Have a good night?” A sudden voice swam through the air. You were currently walking back to your hotel room after your night at the club. You’d decided to leave earlier than everyone else as you knew Toto would want to fly home to England late the next day. He always missed Jack, your younger brother, and couldn’t stand to be away from him longer than he needed to be. 

Your eyes darted over to the sound, gazing into the eyes of Max Verstappen. “Hmm? Oh yeah… I did.” You gave him a faint smile. “And you?”

“Not much to celebrate.” He huffed. 

“You came second that’s still an achievement.”

“You don’t win a World title by coming second.” 

You shrugged at his words, steadying yourself as you walked towards him. “You have a point but second place isn’t something to be ashamed of, you still beat most drivers on the grid.”

“Most isn’t all.” He replied. 

“Oh give over Verstappen.” You took a few steps closer to him, your hands resting on his chest, the alcohol in your system giving you confidence. “You know you’re the best driver on the grid.”

“You think that?” He smirked. 

“I know it for a fact.”

“Are you drunk?” His smirk turned to a smile. 

“No… only tipsy…”

“You need to get to bed.” He stepped closer, his hand wrapping around your waist. “Aren’t you going back to England tomorrow?”

“You remembered.” You smiled up at him. “Lewis has my keycard though…”

“And where is he?”

“Still at the club?”

Max’s expression turned sour. “You mean to tell me he just let you walk back here on your own.”

“Basically…”

“Dickhead.” Max spat as he picked you up bridal style. “You can stay with me tonight -”

“Bloody hell Verstappen.” Your arms flung around his neck. “Haven’t even taken me on a date yet!” You giggled as the Dutch driver opened his hotel door, carrying you inside before placing you gently down on the bed. He rummaged through his bags and pulled out one of his shirts and a spare pair of his boxers. 

He turned back to you and placed the clothes beside you. Grabbing a cloth he cupped your face and started to take off your make-up. Your face fell into his warm touch, slightly humming at the sensation on your skin. Max smiled before brushing your hair out, letting his fingers run through the strands. 

“You think you can dress yourself?” He tilted your chin up to look up at him. 

“Hmm…” You hummed back in approval. Max stepped back, turning his back and allowed you to slip your dress off. Throwing it aside you then threw your bra in front of Max, something which made the boy smirk from his place, next came your underwear, only making his grin grow. “You can turn around now.” Max spun on his heel to be greeted with a tired smile from you as you sat in his clothes. 

“Better?”

“Perfect.” 

“Come on,” Max moved to pull the duvet back, guiding you into his bed. “You need to rest, I’ll sleep on that sofa.” Max nodded to the small sofa across the room. “Just call me if you need me -”

“You can’t sleep on the sofa.” You whined as you lay down. “You’ll ache in the morning.” 

“I ache every time I get into a car, a sofa won’t be an issue.”

“Then that’s even more of a reason to sleep in bed.” 

Max knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t lie to himself that after the pair of you spent the night chatting he’d grown a little soft spot for you. He shouldn’t have felt like that so quickly but there was something about you. Maybe it was because he knew you were off limits that only made him want you even more. He never saw you as a way to get back at Mercedes, that never crossed his mind, he just knew that he couldn’t get lost in this. He couldn’t fall for someone he couldn’t have. 

But he was Max Verstappen and anything he wanted, he got. 

That night wasn’t the last you’d spend in bed with one another. That morning you woke up in one another's arms before Max had to wake you up so you wouldn’t be late. You’d lied to Lewis and told him you stayed with Lando, luckily for you Lando couldn’t remember anything from the night so he just agreed.

You’d spent weeks getting to know Max and when the USA GP rolled around it was now his time to show everyone he was capable of winning this World Title. Max had won the race and invited you to join him and a few others in the celebrations. He kissed you for the first time that night and the rest was history. 

The day Toto found out was one you’d never forget and it also happened to be the day of the biggest race of the season. Auba Duabi. 

Max knew it was stupid to kiss you in front of the entire world when he won his first championship but at that moment he didn’t care. You were clapping alongside the Mercedes mechanics, trying not to look too happy when Max got out of the car. Max took his helmet off and looked over at you, a smirk on his lips. To anyone looking on it would have just looked as if he was being smug to the Mercades workers but in actual fact, it was for you. He strode over to you like he owned everything in the world and pulled your lips onto his. If Toto didn’t hate Max already he certainly did now. 

Toto hid away in one of the IT rooms, not wanting to be hounded by the press after his daughter had just kissed his rival in front of everyone. You knew you had to face him so you left Max to talk to interviewers to talk to him. Toto was sitting in one of the chairs looking out to the track, he tapped his finger against his cheek, ticking away like a bomb. 

“Dad?” You opened the door before closing it quietly behind you. “I need to explain what just happened… Max and I -”

“How long have you been hiding that from me?” He asked, still not, looking at you.

“Since America, the end of October.” 

“All that time…” He straightened his back, running his hand through his hair. “And you just lied to me?”

“It’s not like I wanted to.” You stepped further into the room. “I never wanted to hide it from you -”

“But you did.” He turned on his chair to finally meet your gaze. “For months and then the time you decide to make everything public you do it on the day Red Bull cheated us out of a win, Lewis could have won his eighth World Title if it wasn’t for him -”

“See this is why I didn’t tell you.” Your teary eyes met his. “Because you turn it into some shitty rivalry thing. You don’t care about how I feel, how he makes me feel. You always turn it around and make it a work thing.” You stepped closer to him. “I know how much Lewis and this entire team mean to you, this sport is my life as much as it is yours but there are times when you need to separate the two and me and Max being together is one of those times.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you decided to kiss him in front of the world and you didn’t even tell me first, I had to find out when everyone else did, how do you think I feel?”

“I know.” You sat down, wiping the tears that had spilt. “I know, I understand that and please believe me when I tell you that I never meant for it to happen like that.” 

Toto gave you a look, he was searching your eyes for a lie but couldn’t find one. “When were you going to tell me?”

“If I’m honest I was waiting until this season ended. Then I would have told you during the break, Max could have come over -”

“He’s not setting foot in my house.” Toto snapped. 

“Dad…”

“He’s not.” He took a deep breath as a small knock sounded at the door. Max, drenched in champagne opened the door slowly before stepping inside. Toto met his gaze and any inch of forgiveness he wanted to give you quickly disappeared. “Get out.”

“I just want to talk to you.” Max replied, making his way over to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “That kiss was my fault. I instigated it… as you probably could have guessed.”

“Don’t touch her.” Toto’s eyes fell onto Max’s hand. 

“Christ if you hate that you’d hate to know what he did after America -”

“You’re a cheating prick you know that Verstappen?” Toto jumped up. “Just like your father, you will never achieve anything -”

“Dad!” You now snapped at Toto. 

“Yeah?” Max’s tone turned sour. “My Dad was never a world champion and from what I remember neither are you but I am.”

“Only because you cheated -”

“The FIA disagrees. You just can’t handle that there’s someone on that grid that won’t let your precious golden boy through when he gets too close.” 

“You know what.” Toto headed towards the door. “I hope the two of you get on well because you’re not coming back home all the time you’re with him.” He didn’t say another word as he slammed the door behind him and left you two in the darkened room. 

Max didn’t wait a second before pulling you into a hug. Your face met his race suit as you burst into tears. Your arms wrapped around him as you sobbed. “I’m so sorry,” Max mumbled into your hair. “It was a stupid thing to do -”

“Why Max?” You held onto his racing suit. “Why did you have to do that?”  

“I just wanted to share this night with the woman I love and not just behind closed doors. It was stupid, I should have waited and we could have told Toto after Christmas.” His grip tightened on you as he soothed your cries. “Look,” Max looked down at you, his hand moving to pull your face away from his chest to look at him. “I know it’s hard but let's forget about it, for now, go out and celebrate and then we’ll talk to him tomorrow. If things don’t go as planned then you can move in with me, we’ll spend Christmas together if you want.” He took a deep breath. “I know it won’t be the same but -”

“I’d love to.” You cut him off. 

You never wanted to ruin Max’s day and make it all about yourself but he was partly to blame for your sadness and he knew that. Drying your tears the pair of you went back to his hotel room to get ready for the party and sure enough with a drop of alcohol you forgot about what had happened a few mere hours ago and you could now enjoy your night never having to worry if someone posted an accidental photo of you and Max getting a little too close. Whilst you and Max were side by side in one another's arms Toto was sitting on his hotel bed, still working whilst Susie was scrolling through social media. 

“Have you spoken to her?” Susie suddenly asked, her eyes glued on that man before her. 

“I’m working -”

“I don’t care.” She cut him off. “Have you spoken to her?” Toto let out a deep breath, taking his glasses off before running his hands through his hair. 

“Yes…”

“And?” 

“It didn’t go well.” 

“Toto -”

“Why him Susie? Why out of every driver on that grid did she have to go for him?” He looked defeated as he spoke. “And she lied to me for months, telling me she was meeting a friend or just going for a walk but in actual fact, she was going to see him. All this time -”

“And why do you think she kept it from you?” The woman arched her brows, clearly on your side. “Because she knew you’d act like this! And I can bet you anything you two didn't just have a normal conversation -”

“He ruined it! We were talking and he came in and ruined it.” 

“Then you ignore him like an actual adult.” Susie sat on the end of the bed as she spoke again. “What did you say to her?” 

“Regretable things.” He replied. 

“Like?”

He debated if he should tell her or not but he also knew he’d have to say something when you didn’t return home with them. “I kicked her out.”

“I beg your pardon?” Susie was close to kicking him out after those words. 

“I didn’t mean what I said, he instigated it -”

“Toto you’re her father you shouldn’t throw words like that around when her boyfriend drops a stupid comment.” Susie huffed. “I understand that her lying to you isn’t going to help this situation but you also need to understand where she’s coming from. What happened today has nothing to do with Max and you need to remember that. If the FIA stay by their decision then we go again next year. This isn’t the end for Lewis and this shouldn’t end your and y/n’s relationship. Look,” She turned her phone to show him photos of you and Max at the party. “She’s happy with him, isn’t that what you want?” 

“How do you feel about it?” Toto suddenly asked, his eyes darting from the photos. 

“It doesn’t matter what I think, she isn’t my daughter.”

Susie had a point. You were Toto’s eldest child and had grown up alongside the race track. Your mother had passed so he took care of you whilst he balanced his business and racing career. He knew the dangers of raising you by a track, one of them being you’d be around people he didn’t want you to be but he knew you were smart enough to stay away from those he didn’t like well… so he thought. 

“Why didn’t she go for Lewis?” He threw his glasses aside. “Or Mick, or George -” 

“Clearly she wanted a World Champion.”

“Lewis is a World Champion…” 

“Not the current one though.” 

“Don’t start that.” He complained. “I’ll speak to her.” 

Another conversation led to another argument, surprisingly Max stayed out of this one and yet it still all went to shit. You tried to not let it all get to you but that was easier said than done. Living with Max was vastly different to your life if England. Instead of being woken up by an excited Jack, you were greeted with two cats that looked as if they should have lived in the Savannah rather than a Monaco apartment and as much as you loved growing closer with Max and the two of you planning your lives out with one another you still couldn’t help but miss Toto despite his harsh words that had pulled you apart. 

The season was underway again with the first race starting in Bahrain and for the first time in your life, you didn’t go as a guest for Mercedes but for Red Bull. Max did his best to keep you by his side the entire time, not wanting any press to get near you and ask you unwanted questions. He also didn’t want your Dad to waltz into the garage and ruin things yet again but even he couldn’t stop that. 

“You okay?” Max asked. His eyes fell on yours as you sat in the garage, watching the mechanics work. 

“I’m fine.” You smiled back at him as he walked over to you. He stood before you, his hands moving to your chin and lifting it towards him. “How are you feeling?” 

“It’s only practice so I’m not nervous. Anything can happen.”

“Exactly so be careful.” You narrowed your gaze at him. 

“I’m always careful.” He smiled knowing that wasn’t true in the slightest. 

“I’ve moved in with you and now you’re lying to me.” You mirrored his smile. 

“Only once in nearly six months.” His smile turned into a smirk. 

“Max!” He leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips cutting you off. He pulled away after a second just to go and deepen the kiss even more. His thumb grazed your cheek as he tugged on your bottom lip, making you want him more. “Don’t start something you can’t finish Verstappen.” You pulled back, smirking up at him. 

Max straightened himself, his hand cupping your jaw as he looked down at you. “You know I can finish.” 

“Verstappen?” A sudden voice made the two of you jump apart. The Dutchman spun around to be greeted with the eyes of your father. Toto wanted nothing more than to yell at what he’d seen and just walk off like nothing had happened but he knew he couldn’t, he wanted to make amends. “Can we talk?”

“Me?” Max asked. 

“Yes…”

“Just me?” He arched his brows, confused as to why Toto would just want to speak to him rather than the two of you. Max looked back at you before planting a kiss on your forehead. “I won’t be long.” You nodded, sparing a glance at Toto before Max led him away to his driver's room. 

Max slammed the door behind him before turning to face Toto. “Why the fuck are you -”

“Do you love her?” Toto suddenly cut him off in a harsh tone. His eyes didn’t leave Max’s figure as the brunette looked at him in disbelief. 

“Sorry?” Max couldn’t believe he was even being asked that question.

“You heard the question Verstappen.”

“Yeah I did but I’m trying to work out why you’d even ask me that? What do you think I made her my girlfriend to get back at you? Do you think it was my way of finding out information about Mercedes? You know Toto everyone else out there might think I’m a selfish brat who can only win by shoving others off the track but I’m not like that and y/n was the only one who gave me a chance to tell my side of the story. She knew what it was like to be in the spotlight since she was born and she knew what it was like to feel the pressure of living up to your father's expectations. I have told her every single thing about me so do forgive the idea that I may be confused as to why you’d ask me if I do in fact love your daughter.”

“So you do?”

“Of course I fucking love her. If she asked I’d give up my World Title for her, I’d leave Formula 1 if that’s what she wanted. I love her more than anything and anyone in this world and I would have thought these past few months would have told you that.” Max took a breath. “But then again you were never there for her. All those nights she spent crying because she just wanted you to forgive her, I was there, I dried her tears every single time. You never called, you never even came to see her on Christmas. You don’t have to like me, I’m not asking for you to forget how we both lied but I’m asking you to treat her like your daughter again and not like some stranger.”

“I need to apologise to you too.”

“You need to appologise to her first.”

“I wanted to apologise to you first. If she sees me making the effort with you she may forgive me faster.” 

Max eyed your father, scanning his face for a lie but he never saw one. “That’s a smart move.” 

“I’m sorry for what happened. I never meant what I said, you can even ask y/n, I’ve always thought you were talented but the thought of you dating my daughter was something that I would need time to get used to. I was so angry at a decision by the FIA that I took it all out on the two of you. I know you didn’t make that decision and I need to learn to separate the sport and my daughter's feelings. What happens on that track and in these garages should stay on the track. I shouldn’t bring any shitty decision to her and your relationship.” 

Max waited a few seconds before speaking again. “If she accepts your apology then so will I. I love her and if she’s happy with moving on then I will. She’s already met my family and they love her so I just hope you’ll accept me into yours like mine did with her.” 

That comment hurt Toto. He’d really fucked up this time. You and he have argued in the past but it was still rare. The two of you were as close as they could come and the past few months without you made his heartache. 

“Can you go and get her for me?” 

Max nodded, turning on his heel as he walked back out to the garages to grab you. Max could tell Toto was being sincere and genuinely wanted his and your forgiveness but he wouldn’t show Toto an inch of kindness until you did. No matter his opinion of your father he would stand by you and show Toto the same respect you would. 

When he entered the room with you again he sent Toto one glance before he leaned down to kiss you. Max didn’t hesitate when he deepened the kiss, cupping your jaw whilst his arm pulled your waist into his hips. Max pulled back eventually, smirking down at you before placing one last peck on your lips. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.” 

“Thank you, love.” You smiled as he left, now leaving you and your Dad alone for the first time in months. 

Toto looked as if he hadn’t slept since the end of last season. His face brightened when he saw you but his face was still dull and the glint in his once happy eyes had left. “y/n…”

“How’ve you been?” You asked, doing your best to not just run and give him a hug. “You looked tired.”

“I haven’t exactly slept well since our argument.”

“You can tell.” You couldn’t help but smile a little at your own words. 

Toto mirrored your facial expression before his lips fell back into a line. “Y/n… I’m so sorry.” He took a deep breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I should have never kicked you out of the house just because you started dating a rival driver. I understand why you kept it a secret, you know I’d react how I did because I couldn’t separate work from family and for that I’m sorry. I want you to move back in with us, I want Max to be a part of the family. I want us to go out for meals, with him, I want him to stay over and be one of us and for that to happen I need to put my bitterness aside. Y/n I am so sorry for what I said, please can you forgive me for what happened?” 

Your smile grew before you spoke. “I hate to break it to you but I won’t be moving back in with you and Susie. As much as I miss you both and Jack, I enjoy living with Max although I am going to try and convince him to move closer to you both.”

“Think I can live with that.” He smiled. 

“I’m sorry for keeping it from you -”

“No y/n it was all my fault, please don’t apologise for that.”

“Well… your apology is accepted. I won’t forget what happened but I can thank you for basically letting me move in with my boyfriend and we’re closer than ever, even with his family.”

“I think it’s only fair we invite Max round for dinner.”

“As long as you won’t kill him.”

“I can’t promise I won’t give him a hard time but I’ll promise I won’t kill him.” His smile grew. “Unless he hurts you.”

“I can assure you that you’ll never need to worry about Max hurting me. He’s been the best thing that’s happened to me for a while.”

“How did you two even meet properly? A night out?”

“You remember the day I was late to bring you coffee last season? I walked straight into him and nearly burned the bloke, he replaced the coffee and gave me a new shirt so it didn’t look suspicious, that night he gave me back my Mercedes shirt that he’d washed and we spent the night talking, he looked after me when I came back home slightly drunk without Lewis one night and well things just sort of went off from there.”

He nodded, suddenly connecting the dots. “He loves you.”

“I’d bloody hope he did if I’m honest.”

Toto laughed at your words, stepping closer to you. “I guess he’s a part of the family then.” He held his arms out, silently asking for a hug which you happily complied with. “Unless he hurts you…” He muttered. “Then I’ll make sure he ends up under Lewis’ car.” 

“Guess we’ve got to invite him for dinner and see if you two get on as well as I want you to.”

how you doing ? 😛

can you do one that reader is Toto Wolff daughter and is dating Max please

Fluff and Angst scenarios please 🫶🏻

Thank you 🥰

Hello anon, I'm all good thank you and I hope you're doing well :) You can find your request here, I hope you enjoy <3

Everything I Wanted I.

LESTAPPEN X READER (Part 1)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. I know I said it was a oneshot, but the thing got out of hand, and I had to split it in half. Soon there will be a part 2! English is not my first language, so please ignore any mistake!

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“They’re not friends, you understand? They’re rivals, and that’s all they’ll ever be.”

You stand, hugging your helmet firmly against your chest, your dad’s words louder than the ringing in your ear from the way he slapped the side of your head. You were 9 and it was your first time competing in a karting competition. You tried to befriend the other kids your age, but as soon as your dad called you away, fuming, you knew it was a mistake.

You followed your dad’s orders, and didn’t talk to any of the boys again. Max was already cold towards you, so he pretty much ignored your existence. But Charles was more talkative, and as you stopped answering him, he became taunting, annoying, but you didn’t fall behind, you used to clap back at him with the same intensity.

Sometimes you eavesdropped on their conversations, initially it wasn’t intentional, but they were always complaining about you, calling you names, and you realized your dad was right, they would never see you as a friend or equal, only as a rival.

One day you’re walking by when you hear your name in their conversation.

“Nah, don’t worry about Y/N,” Max shrugged, his accent thick, as he pointed to the side of his temple “she’s a little slow, but maybe she’ll catch up.”

You stood there, his words echoing in your head, she’s a little slow, that was a kind way to call you stupid, which, compared to the way your father called you that many times, it was much sweeter. You shouldn’t have let that get to your head, specially said that way. But then again, you were 11, and you kept hearing those words again and again in your head. You never considered yourself dumb, your grades in school were average, and whenever you had time off of karting to study for your exams, your grades became even better, a little above average.

And despite knowing that, after going back home after the competition, you spent the whole Saturday at the local library, studying everything you could find on motorsports and Formula One. You lent books on strategy, history, and even mechanics. Every spare time you had, you spent reading those books, or lending others. You didn’t want to be slow as they had called you.

After that, you stopped talking to Max completely.

“This is a waste!” Your dad shouted, and you flinched, taking a discreet step back, away from him, trying to avoid him getting physical.

You had argued with him, which made him more furious. You tried to tell him it wasn’t your fault, you were just as good at racing as everyone else, maybe better, but no one was willing to give a girl a chance. It made him even angrier.

“You had one job! You get into F4 on your first try!”

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t your fault. That they weren’t willing to give a girl a chance, even if you were better than half of the boys who made it to F4. But your dad didn’t care about any of it, he wanted you to succeed or nothing. He used to always say that anything below first place is failure.

So he decided you, at 14, weren’t worth the money he spent on karting. And he simply left. Making peace with the fact that your dad never saw you as his kid, but more like an investment, was hard.

“You’re never going to be a Formula 1 champion.” Was the last thing he said to you, before dropping you at your mom’s to never come back.

Living with your mom ever since your dad gave you up was something else. She had lost everything after the divorce, thanks to a prenup she had naively signed without knowing anything about it. So when you moved in with her, you noticed how the house was smaller than your dad’s, you two slept in the single room that was there. Your mom worked two jobs living paycheck to paycheck, and you barely saw her. But she was kind, comforting.

You soon realized that she wouldn’t be able to provide for your karting career. So you lied, you told her your dad was still paying for the karting, and you found two part time jobs to pay for racing. You mom worked so much, she didn’t notice your absence in the afternoons, when you went to work in an auto repair shop. Sometimes, on the rare occasions she was off work in the afternoons, you lied and told her you were out with friends, or studying in the library or even doing extracurriculars. You had the best intentions, you used to tell yourself at night whenever you laid awake, you knew she would blame herself or even work herself to death to provide for you.

The entirety of the next year was a constant struggle, and you worked, and scrapped and lied your way through the entire karting competition. It was one of your last chances to get into F4, and you weren’t sure you could live another year that way, without a sponsor.

When the competition ended, you were second place overall. Your kart had problems during the race and you were sad that it affected your performance in a race you could’ve won.

You walked closer as you saw a few of the other boys gathering around some adults, you eyed them curiously. As soon as you noticed who they were, you swallowed. They were probably scouts, it was very common in finals of these competitions, you were used to it. You also were used to being ignored by all of them scouts. You had tried many times before to make connections and make yourself known, maybe even meeting a potential sponsor, but they always ignored you. They weren’t interested in a girl, they didn’t care about a woman in motorsports. Your only hope was that one day you would meet a female scout and she would see your potential.

But meanwhile, there were only men, and they didn’t give two fucks about you. So you didn’t even get close enough to join, you heard Charles and Max talking with them, and you just turned around, going back to your kart.

You pulled a few tools from your backpack, working to fix the difficulties you felt during the race.

“What are you doing?” A man approached you, crouching close to watch your work. You briefly looked up, the guy was wearing sunglasses and a cap, just a normal guy, looking like someone’s dad.

“I’m fixing my steering wheel, it was a bit stuck during the race so I had to double the force used to be able to make it work,” you explained, and he nodded.

“You finished second, right? Why are you here by yourself?” The man asked.

“The other kids don’t like me very much. And they’re talking to the scouts,” you shrugged, trying not to think about all the opportunities they would get and you wouldn’t.

“You should be there, no? Meeting scouts is important for your career.”

“They’re not very interested in a girl racer. Believe me, I know.” You muttered, finishing with the steering wheel, testing to see if it was working all right. You turned, fixing your left rear tyre. The tyre wasn’t responding very well to the braking, “besides, my kart won’t fix itself, right? Look, you see how this tyre is slower to respond to my braking? It messed up with my balance during the race. I could have won.”

“Shouldn’t you take your kart somewhere to get it fixed?” The man asked, helping you unscrew the tyre.

“Can’t afford it,” you said, “I’m saving to try and get into F4, so I can’t spare any money on this one.”

You weren’t usually this talkative with new people, mostly keeping to yourself. But maybe you were missing a grownup figure in your life since your dad had dipped and your mom was always busy. And that man sounded really interested in your stuff, so it felt natural explaining to him.

“So, no one sponsoring you?” He asked, which made you look at him again, hesitantly.

“No, uh, I had one but he dropped me last year” you said, leaving out that part that it was your dad.

“You know who I am?” The man asked and you looked at him, shaking your head.

“Someone’s dad? I mean, I haven’t been introduced to all the kids and their parents yet, but you’re kinda familiar, so-” As you were babbling and trying to explain, he took off the cap and sunglasses, and you immediately recognized him, “oh my god!”

“Shh, shh” he silenced you, putting the disguise back.

“You’re Kimi Raikkonen!” You whispered, and he nodded.

“I’ll be your new sponsor, eh? What do you say?”

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he nodded.

"How do you know I'm good enough for a sponsorship?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, are you good enough for a sponsorship?" He asked. He had been keeping an eye out at that very category, and you had caught his attention as seemingly smart and emotionally controlled with the kart.

"I'm the best of the bunch," you smiled at him and you won him over with that answer.

Kimi became your lifeline, in a way. His family was quick to embrace you in an affectionate way you would’ve never expected of them. They invited you for their little New Year’s party, and you eventually told everything about your life to Kimi. His wife Minttu had also taken you as one of her own and their kids liked you a lot.

Under Minttu’s suggestion, Kimi also enrolled you in language classes, so besides English, you spent the next years learning French and Spanish, and you also caught a little Finnish from being so close to them.

You kept pushing your way up from F4 to F3 and so on, but instead of climbing it steadily like the boys, you had to win two or three times more than them to prove you were worth taking the next step.

You were 16 when your paths crossed with the boys from your childhood again. They recognised you, but they never really talked to you, so they didn't this time around either.

Coming out of the bathroom you once again caught a conversation, and you stopped dead as soon as you heard your name.

“No, not really… I don’t see her like that at all- she’s- uh-” Charles was speaking, probably looking for the words in english, “-she’s more like one of the boys.”

You paused, your breath hitched.

“Yeah,” that was Max, “I don’t see her like that either. I guess she doesn’t care about the things girls her age do.”

You felt a lump in your throat, retreating back to the bathroom. You stood in front of the mirror, watching your face as the tears fell down on your cheeks. You were dressed in your regular racing day attire, cargo pants and a sweater. You didn’t wear makeup and your hair was all frizzy because of the helmet.

The next time you went to the Raikkonen residence, you pulled Minttu aside one moment.

“I want to be pretty. Will you help me?”

You two went through a long chat with Minttu reassuring you that you were pretty in your own way and you insisting you wanted to be pretty like other girls, more feminine and girly.

When you entered F2 after the winter break, you felt and looked like some better version of yourself. Minttu had helped you set a skincare routine that was already helping clear your face from teenage acne. She also took you to a hair salon, where you trimmed your hair and made a few highlights. She upgraded your wardrobe, and even if you tried to refuse saying it was too much, she said it was a Christmas gift and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Your path until reaching F1 was slow and steady, and you were a reserve driver for two years before finally getting a seat at McLaren. You knew Kimi probably had a hand in getting you a chance, but he denied every time you asked.

Kimi told you the raw truth before the season started. He and Minttu sat you down and talked about how the world and Formula 1 would expect more of you than of any other rookie. How they would stress your mistakes tenfold. How they would diminish your achievements with the same intensity. You weren’t afraid, really.

“I’ve lived with my greatest hater more than half of my life, I can handle strangers” you had laughed to the couple.

Still, Kimi taught you everything about his Iceman persona, and told you to pick whatever you wanted from it. Minttu also convinced you to start therapy, which you accepted.

The hate started as soon as you were announced. Beyond the regular misogyny, they were calling you too old to be a rookie at 24, they were questioning your abilities even with numerous championships from other categories to back you up, even with the fact that your mentor was Kimi fucking Raikkonen. But you didn’t let any of that get under your skin.

Sebastian Vettel was quickly drawn to you, and he became your first friend in Formula 1. He had been close with Kimi from the time they were teammates, and he kinda adopted you.

The guys your age didn’t want to get too close to you. The very few times they talked or walked with you, it sparked romance rumors, and soon they pretty much ignored or avoided you. You knew their intentions weren't to be mean, they were probably just avoiding problems with the media and their girlfriends or wives, but it didn’t hurt any less every time they walked straight past you.

One of those times you were going to the group press conference and all three of the guys walked past you as you tried to chat with them. Your shoulders slumped, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“What was that?” You jumped at the sound of another voice. You looked behind you to see Fernando Alonso walking up to you. Up until that point, he had been polite to you.

“Oh,” you stumbled over your words, “being seen talking to me is bad press, apparently.”

“Una tontería,” he muttered, shaking his head, which made you laugh, surprised. He put a friendly hand over your shoulder and led you to the media session.

Simples as that, Fernando too became your friend.

You asked your PR manager, Amanda, to bend a few rules to make sure you would always be at the press conference with Seb and Nando or at least one of them. Most of the time, you did. But sometimes you were unlucky and had to sit stiffly through rounds of absurdly odd (and downright misogynistic) questions by yourself.

Soon you gave up on befriending the other drivers and being charming to the media. You realized the Iceman persona of Kimi looked like a good way to protect yourself from the clutches of the motorsport world. By the sixth race of the year, you gained the Lioness nickname. An agile hunter in your driving style and just as fierce in your answers.

“You’re always seen more comfortable with either Sebastian or Fernando, who are way older than you” some reporter said, “why is that?”

“I believe we’re closer in maturity age,” you said, face expressionless. You heard snickers around the room and you looked to Fernando who was visibly holding a laugh.

“So you’re saying the other drivers are immature?” The reporter pressed, but you didn’t want to talk anymore.

“No,” it’s all you answered, putting your mic down.

Everyone already thought you were arrogant, selfish, and superficial, and as you embraced your cold persona, you just fed into their assumptions. You couldn't care less, it was a good way to protect yourself, to be distant from the media who were constantly trying to drag you to the dirt. 

“You mentioned the other day that you believe you should’ve joined F1 around the time the guys your age did. Why do you think that didn’t happen?”

“Because of what’s between my legs, Brian” you deadpanned.

You had to prove yourself two or three times more than the boys every single step of the way, to get into F4, F3, F2 and now F1. You made it, you were there, between the 20 best of motorsport in the whole world… and still… Still you had to hear questions about how you managed to race with a period, questions about boyfriends, questions about hair care or skin care, or whatever. You wouldn’t mind any of that if those were common questions, if they were asked of every driver, but they were only asked of you.

“I would like to express that, from now on, I will only answer questions that would be asked of the male drivers too, about the sport, about the cars, about strategies and everything that revolves around racing,” you warned one day before the end of a media conference when someone asked if your PMS interfered in your racing.

You started to not give two fucks about the media. Every time someone asked you a misogynistic question you just stared at them and put your mic down. So those types of question died down a little bit.

“Do you think you would’ve already been world champion had you entered Formula 1 earlier, let’s say at age 19/20?”

“Yes.”

Most of the guys ignored or avoided you, but your path always clashed with Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. They always hinted at not liking you in the slightest, and the media and the fans started catching up to it, throughout your rookie year. They would shamelessly shade you, and you never backed down, giving it as hard as you got.

You walked to a reporter, still using a towel to dry your face at the post race interview.

“Did you hear what Leclerc said about your move as you left the pits?” The man asked you.

“No, I didn’t. Do I look like I care about a man’s opinion?” You said, loud and clear.

You got as many fans as you got haters, especially as you messed with Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s loud fanbases. It wasn’t really on purpose, but one of them would usually jab at you in interviews, and when word got back to you, it would anger you to no end, and you would shade them back, and in an insane amount of back-and-forths until your rivalry was in articles, the news, twitter threads, and in the mind of every single reporter in a race week.

“Verstappen talked about your overtake at lap 49, he said it was a dirty move.”

“Like he did to me back in Silverstone?” Your eyes held a mischievous glint as you scoffed, “Funny, you didn’t see me whining about it back then.”

You had the best rookie year ever since Lewis Hamilton debuted. You almost reached the same overall numbers as him, getting six podiums and your first ever Formula 1 victory. You finished the driver’s championship in fifth place, over older drivers that were literal champions of the world.

The first time Lewis Hamilton really engaged in conversation with you was during the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony by the end of the season. You were proudly smiling, holding your Rookie of the Year trophy. He had been polite to you before, but he always looked unattainable, in a way. He was beyond the world of Formula 1.

“Congratulations!” He smiled at you, sitting by your side. Your heart thrumming in your chest, trying not to fangirl too much. Sometimes it was unbelievable sharing casual conversation with legends you grew up admiring from afar.

“Thank you, Lewis. Congratulations on the championship!” You said.

“I’m sorry for not realizing most of the boys were excluding you. I chatted about it with Seb, and he told me your only friends are him and Fernando.” Lewis whispered, looking genuine, “I guess I was so focused on the championship that I didn’t bother to check on you. I’m sorry, really.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you raised your trophy, “I made it, right?”

“Succeeding despite the adversities… I see traits of a champion in you, congratulations” Lewis got up, raising his flute in a toast for you, “see you around, Lioness!”

Soon the next season you realized you had a competitive car. More than the year before. As for the first few races of the season, you had a win and podiums, which put you as a contender for the driver’s championship. Unfortunately the other people competing closely with you were none other than Charles and Max. Your rivalry had died down a bit when they noticed that you only shaded them when they provoked you first. So as their jabs became few and far between, it meant your clap backs did too.

The season was as good as it could get, that is until Monza.

You had felt the problems braking specifically during qualifying and your team tried to fix it but there wasn’t much anyone could do due to parc fermé. So you spent part of the night before the race working with your strategist to find a way around your braking problems and the best way to preserve your tyres.

The data had shown it would take a bit more strength to brake, which would eat up at your tyres quicker than usual, but other than that, everything seemed normal.

You all were wrong.

As the race went on, your brakes got progressively worse, to the point that curves were taking your body strength so much you could feel your muscles sore.

“We are considering retiring the car,” Jace, your engineer said. You inhaled, trying to calm down.

You were barely holding your P5, when you saw a Red Bull approaching you. You weren’t in position to fight, so he overtook you turning in a chicane. But your brakes didn’t work as you tried to slow down behind Max’s car, you tried not going into him but your tyres locked as you tried to avoid his rear. You drove straight into his rear, making the two of you lose control of your car. You braced for impact against the wall but luckily the gravel slowed you enough that you just touched the barrier.

After checking with your engineer, you left the car and saw Max leaving his, both DNFs.

You knew of your fame of being a reckless driver, often known for risky maneuvers and overtakes, but you never dove into someone intentionally because you knew trying to take someone out would mean yourself getting taken out too. As a marshal took you back to the garage on a motorcycle, you were ready to swallow your pride and apologize to Max for accidentally taking him out.

But as soon as you stepped down from the motorcycle, Max was in your space. His face was red and his hair all sweaty and disheveled, when he fronted you, chest to chest. You knew there were dozens of cameras pointed to you, so you tried to diffuse the tension for once.

“Are you insane?! Why did you drive into me?!” He kept advancing and for each of his steps ahead, you took one back to try and explain. But he didn’t give you a second screaming all kinds of curses and blame, “you should’ve never made it to Formula 1!”

His words were like a slap to the face, and you stopped trying to apologize or explain. You put both hands to your back, inflating your chest to face him.

“You don’t get to fucking decide that! You dipshit! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You said to his face, that’s when someone from the RedBull garage ran closer and stood between you.

You watched as he was taken away from you and inside his garage. At the same time your PT found you and walked you back to McLaren.

Changing from your race suit, you tried to cool down before going to the media. You gulped down your water as you watched Charles leading the race, and getting closer to the championship than you.

“There was an altercation between you and Max Verstappen, can you comment on that?”

“He was visibly upset with the racing incident.” It was all you said, after chatting with your PR manager before stepping out to chat with the journalists.

“And what happened at that incident? Can you walk us through it?”

“Yes, uh, we’ve been feeling something wrong with our braking system since yesterday. The data showed us it would require me to be more forceful during braking, which seemed feasible. But the brakes were wearing off during the race and we were about to retire when I completely lost the brakes. I really tried to avoid him but my tyres locked and I ended up hitting Verstappen.”

“Are you sure this accident has nothing to do with the ongoing rivalry between the two of you?” You got offended by the reporter's words.

“Of course! I would never intentionally do something to put myself or other drivers at risk. I have all the data to back me up and anyone can check my onboard.”

The FIA investigated your altercation with Max, and you ended up getting an unsportsmanlike behavior penalty. Two points in your super license.

“What the fuck?! Why the fuck would I be punished for that! There are fourteen different angles from that argument and all of them show how Verstappen aggressively came on to me first!”

It got worse when you heard that only you had gotten a penalty and Max didn’t even get a reprimand.

Everyone close to you noticed how you were on edge next week. During media day your answers were short, dry, and every single journalist seemed to want to talk about the penalty.

“Yes, I do have opinions on my penalty. But no, I won’t talk about it, only the FIA’s opinion is relevant” Your words during the press conference were enough to express a little dissatisfaction and to put an end to those questions. Everyone was surprised at the fact you chose to be quiet about the whole ordeal, they were all expecting your complaints and harsh words.

When you went back to your driver’s room, you went straight to lay your head on your mom’s lap, feeling a bit down. You stayed quiet as she ran her hands through your hair softly untangling it. She knew you were upset and why, so none of you bother to voice anything, bashing in the comforting silence.

The best thing about Formula 1 was being able to retire your mom from working, now you didn’t have to worry about her burning out and she didn’t have to worry about bills or mortgage or debts. Now she had a new, bigger and better house, everything was paid for and you even gave her a credit card for hobbies or whatever she wanted. She sometimes went to the races, but she usually stayed at home, relaxing.

“I know things are hard right now,” you mom started, her voice soft, caring, “but I know you can do it, honey. You’ve faced pushback since the beginning of this dream, but you always came out on top.”

“Thank you for believing in me.”

“You will be a world champion, honey. I know it.” She smiled down at you.

You sat up as your mom removed her watch, handing it to you.

“I wanted to give it to you on your birthday, but I feel like this is the right moment,” she turned the watch, showing you the inscription that read strong woman, and you felt your eyes water, “this was my grandma’s. She gave it to my mom, who gave it to me, and now it’s yours.”

That week you got a victory, raising your P1 trophy for your mom, who was watching you with a hand on her heart, crying happy tears.

As the season progressed the championship became even tighter between the three of you. Mere points set the three of you apart, and with each week result, the P1, P2 and P3 shifted between you. It had become one of the most competitive seasons in the sport.

When the third to last race came in Qatar, you were P3 in the championship, and you needed at least P4 in that race to keep fighting for the championship. You didn’t care about anything other than getting a podium, focused on your racing mindset, no distractions. If you only got that win, it would mean getting back that P1 in the championship and you would go down in history.

You were P3 after your last pitstop of the race, you had a small window of time to take advantage of being with new mediums while everyone else was with old softs. You had to pull ahead and open at least ten seconds, so you could become first when Max went to the pits. You had the perfect opportunity for an undercut.

That was until you overtook Charles’ Ferrari for P2. You passed him easily, he hadn’t gone to the pits yet, so he had old tyres. But you frowned as Jace warned you about Leclerc trying to take the position back. He couldn’t fight against your new tyres, everyone knew that. You accelerated to open a distance, but as you went fast into turn 4, you only felt the hit to your side, making you lose control of the car.

It was barely a few seconds that you couldn’t wrap your head around, so shocked you couldn’t brake, only feeling your stomach churn as you braced for impact. The second hit came against the barriers even harder than the first, it shook your whole body, leaving you dizzy and out of breath.

You talked with Jace, telling him in a shaky voice that you were okay but out of breath, and you unlocked your seatbelts with trembling hands. After removing your steering wheel, you tried to get up but you were dizzy and your legs felt like jelly. A marshal helped you out of the car, but as soon as your feet were on the ground, you stumbled to your knees. The nausea got the best of you and you puked against your balaclava and inside the helmet. The marshals made a small shield around you, as one of them helped you remove the helmet and balaclava, still dry heaving. The marshal gave you a towel, and you cleaned the best you could as the ambulance was coming.

You looked behind you to your destroyed car.

And just like that, you had lost any chance at the championship.

You held your tears as you went through the medical procedures and examinations. The world had been muted in the background and you could only hear the noise of the crash, visualizing your ruined car, and your dreams being crushed once again.

But as you came back to the hospitality, you found your mom, and sobbed quietly against her chest.

“It’s ok, honey. It’s okay,” her voice was so soothing and the pain meds were working, so you cried yourself to sleep while she held you.

Later that day, you watched the replay of your crash. Leclerc had gone way too close to you, but in turn 4 he hit the curbs and lost control, hitting your car right in the middle, full force. Your car had spun out a lot then hit the barriers. It was lucky that you had come out of the crash relatively unharmed, it was ugly and could’ve been a lot worse, from the way you spun and the G force your car hit the barrier with.

“You’re still watching that?” Your mom’s voice sounded in the middle of the night.

“He shouldn’t have tried to fight for the position back, he didn’t even have enough tyres for that! And he was way too close, look!”

Your mom closed your laptop, putting it on the coffee table. She took your hands in hers and smiled gently.

“I’m sorry about the championship. But I’m glad you’re okay, that was one of the scariest couple of seconds of my entire life,” she whispered, teary eyed.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, ashamed that it didn’t cross your mind how worried she might have been.

“It’s okay, honey. There’s always next year, I’m sure you will be world champion. And will be there cheering for you.”

The next week in Jeddah, you felt like the world was out to get you when they put you in the press conference with both Max and Charles, as well as Lewis and Sebastian.

“Y/N, how are you feeling after last week’s crash? It looked pretty bad.” Someone asked.

“I am doing ok, thank you,” that’s all you said into the mic.

“Unfortunately, the crash ultimately took you out of the championship, what do you say about that?”

You were so tired of that question, so tired of your PR manager talking in your head about not blaming Charles publicly, despiste your desire to scream to whoever may hear that the monegasque just wanted to take you out of the competition, so he could fight only Verstappen for the championship. You just wanted the season to be over, in all honesty.

“There’s always next year, right?” You echoed your mom's words, that were also your rehearsed answer. You looked to the side, feeling Sebastian’s hand softly on your forearm, a silent show of support.

You left as soon as it was over. You knew Charles had been trying to talk to you. You supposed it was to apologize, but you weren’t having it. You were still so angry at him that you worried you’d punch him as soon as he was in your face. So you just avoided him like the plague. You didn’t want to see him, and you couldn’t afford another punishment if you acted on your anger.

“Charles has been looking for you,” Sebastian said, walking up to you as you were finishing braiding your hair for the race.

“I have been avoiding him,” you said, not looking at Seb, still focusing on your braids.

“He just wants to apologize.”

“And I want to punch him in the face, so what? We can’t always get what we want” You clenched your jaw, using an elastic band to finish.

“Y/N…” Sebastian sounded tired.

“Don’t Y/N me. I just want this season to be over, ok? The championship was in my reach, and now it’s not. And it wasn’t even my own fault. So no, I won’t see him.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything as he walked to you and pulled you in an affectionate hug that made you want to cry again.

During the driver’s parade, Fernando acted almost as a guard dog, not letting anyone close to you. You talked with him and Lewis about the crash, explaining how it felt to you.

When the season ended, you got a third place trophy during the Prize Giving Ceremony. You remembered your dad’s words throughout the entire night. Coming down from the stage, and you met with Minttu and Kimi, they congratulated you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of failure. You looked at Charles on the stage with his P2 trophy.

“Anything other than the first is failure, right?” You sighed, eyes glued to the stage, where Max got the trophy of Champion of the World.

“What crap is that?” Kimi said, suddenly.

“My dad used to say that when I was a kid.”

“Well he was an asshole,” Kimi said matter-of-factly, “and he never made it to F1. He didn’t even make it to F4, he has no reason or power to get in your head. You were just a kid. You understand?”

“Yes, Kimi," you swallowed, feeling some kind of wheight being lifted from your shoulders. Kimi had done many great things for your life with very few words, and his succint way of being was great to pull you back to the present whenever you anxiety got the best of you.

You ended up getting the Personality of the Year award too, which was such a surprise that it worked wonders to lift your spirits and to end the season with a sweet note.

Even being in a better mood, you didn’t stay at the party too late, saying your farewell to your friends as you dropped Kimi and his wife at the hotel. You were removing your makeup after a shower when there was a knock on your hotel room door. Thinking it was an emergency, you rushed only to be faced with Charles Leclerc.

“What are you doing here?” You looked around the hall, confused.

“Can I talk to you?” Charles was still dressed in his formal attire, black tie. He fiddled with his fingers as you let him in, afraid someone might see him at your door.

“What?” You crossed your arms as you closed the door.

“I’m really sorry about the crash in Qatar,” he waited for your answer with bated breath.

“Can we have this conversation when next season starts?” You proposed. You knew you weren’t ready for that talk yet, too much anger was still clouding your judgment for a level-headed talk.

“It wasn’t my intention to take you out-” He started but you cut him off.

“Look, you’ve never liked me, I’m aware, and you cost me an entire championship, so I don’t know if I believe you.”

“It really wasn’t intentional, the accident cost me the championship as well,” you could see in his eyes that his patience was wearing thin. But so did yours.

“No it didn’t. You still had a chance even after that DNF, you just didn’t win anyway,” your anger simmered again, making you raise your voice.

“Fuck you! You treat me like this because you always felt like you were better than everyone-”

“I treat you like this?! Be fucking for real, Charles! You hate me so much you took my chance at the championship away!”

“If you had more wins during the season maybe this wouldn’t be a problem right now!”

“Unbelievable! Because you are so much better than me, all you got was second place!”

“Shut up.”

“You’ve always hated me for absolutely no reason-”

“Shut up.”

“And now you think you can barge into my room and tell me you think I’m a shitty driver? I’m not standing for-”

“Shut up!” He shouted, which was so surprising you actually stopped talking.

The both of you were breathing heavily, in one second you were sure you could strangle him, in the next, his lips were against yours and his hand gripping your hair. The kiss was nasty, all teeth and lips and tongue, his hands going down your body, pressing you into him, and your fingers tugging at his suit, ripping the buttons. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Charles’ lips found your neck and he bit into your pulse point.

“Fuck you, Charles” you said, breathless, opening his trousers and he ripped your little sleep top with his bare hands.

It was so hot as you stumbled backwards and he followed you, tossing your top behind him, you took off his shirt and undershirt and he helped you kick out your shorts.

Charles pressed you against the wall, kissing you aggressively again, and you moaned as he placed his thigh between your legs, and you ground against him, turned on, dampening his trousers with the wet of your panties. You pressed your hand against his bulge, and he groaned, pressing into you even harder, humping like horny teenagers.

You didn’t even bother to get him naked, with his trousers half undone, you just pulled his cock out, heavy in your hands. You watched his pained expression as you spit on your hand so you could masturbate him.

“Fuck it,” you moaned, knowing grinding on him was not nearly enough.

You pulled your panties to the side, and lined his cock up into you. It was so tight as he slid into you, that your eyes rolled in pleasure, and he raised one of your legs against his waist to make room for his hips. He pulled back and snapped his hips into you again, his cock stretching you so good you were shaking. You put one arm around his shoulders holding on him and the other hand you held his ass under his loose trousers, your nails biting into his flesh as you pushed him even deeper.

“Fuck, ah-” he moaned in your ear, “so hot- putain-”

The loud, wet sounds of his hips pistoning into you were obscene. You angrily bit him, his shoulders, his chest, his jaw and he went even harder, your back hitting the wall behind you, and you pulled his hair, sweat starting to form all over your body.

“Fuck, Charles!” Your moans got even louder, and Charles stuck two fingers into your mouth, muffling your sounds as he fucked you.

He was hitting the perfect spot inside you, and it was enough for you to know you would come that way. You slapped his cheek, taking out some of your anger and he groaned, going harder. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and held your neck, pressing your torso against the wall and choking you a little bit.

“I can’t hold much longer” he warned you between gritted teeth, relentlessly fucking you.

You pinched your own nipples and it didn’t take long for you to come, your cunt clenching so hard around him, it was enough to send him over the edge too.

Shaking, the two of you slid to the floor, breathlessly lying down, half naked and sweaty.

None of you said a word.

When he was ready to go again, he put you on your knees, your torso against the mattress, and he pounded into your cunt mercilessly from behind.

The third and last time was lazy, slow missionary and he held your wrists above your head with one hand, pressed your clit with the other, sucked a few hickeys around your tits and his cock pressed over and over your g-spot.

When you woke up the next morning, Charles was still asleep by your side. You went into the bathroom and showered, hoping he would catch the hint and leave. But as you came out showered and dressed, he was still out cold. So you quietly packed your bag and left for the airport.

Everything I Wanted II.

LESTAPPEN X READER (PART 2)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 8.9k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is very angsty and none of it is an attack at the drivers nor their fans and personalities, please.

I know I KNOW, this got out of hand, AGAIN. I promise next part (and hopefully last) is more focused on the romance, and the happy ending reader deserves.

Find me on Twitter!

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (soon)

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You spent Christmas with your mom, sharing a lot of presents and watching a bunch of stupid Christmas movies. New Year’s was now a tradition to spend with the Raikkonen Family, joined with the closest friends for a little get together. It was a good opportunity to reconnect with Kimi’s kids who missed you a lot during the season.

Charles never contacted you during winter break, which you were sure was the best after that mistake. You hated each other too much and the only thing that could come out of that was toxicity from the both of you. You refused to even acknowledge what had happened and its implications, that wouldn’t and couldn’t mean anything.

During the pre-season testing in Bahrain, you and Charles were back to whatever your relationship was before that one lapse in judgment months before.

Nobody noticed anything.

One day, Fernando pulled you aside for a little chat. You two sat side by side on big moving boxes, sipping on energy drinks.

“There’s something I have been wanting to talk to you about since last year,” he started, seemingly pensive, distant.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. Remember after we first met when you asked me if I had advice for you regarding your career?” Fernando said, and you remembered.

Right after you had gotten close, you asked him for advice, you always did, especially about racing. But one day, you were chatting about his career, and you asked if had any lessons you should never forget. He had laughed joking about read all your contracts then asking if you were calling him old, but he said if he ever had any advice, he would tell you.

“Yes, have you got my answer yet?”

“Sí, Nena,” he paused, looking deep into your eyes, “enjoy.”

You frowned and he saw the confusion on your face.

“I see much of my younger self in you, you know? The same passion, this fiery desire to win, your goal for the championship, to conquer the world…” Fernando paused, looking up to the clear sky, the sunset coming around, “And I did. But I wish I had enjoyed it more. I should’ve gone to parties, I should’ve visited the countries we went to and tried the food, I should’ve made more friends, I should’ve had more lovers… I was so focused on winning, on getting my hands on that trophy of champion of the world, that I missed out on a lot.”

You felt your eyes tear up, and you wiped it before the tears came down. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you smiled at him.

“It’s such an honor race with you. And an even greater honor to have you as a friend, Nano” you whispered to him, you two laughed as his eyes watered too, and slapping his shoulder you laughed, “don’t make me cry, you old softie!”

You took his advice to your heart.

You went to the parties, you met new people, and that’s how after two entire seasons, you managed to befriend Lando, your teammate. You two had to open your hearts a little bit and meet in the middle. Which proved to be great, the whole team loved the change in your dynamic. You still weren’t besties, but you were close colleagues, and that was great. Everyone noticed the change and it reflected on how you started racing as a team instead of individually.

The car was even better than the year before, and the first race of the season you got a promising win.

That win, Lando’s pestering, and Fernando’s advice was how you ended up in a party after the Bahrain GP. Wearing a skimpy mini dress and 5 tequila shots deep, swaying your hips to the sound of Rihanna. You were dancing and singing with Lando and a few of his friends, loudly screaming the lyrics.

When it was way too hot for you, you grabbed a water bottle and beelined your way out of the crowded dance floor. You found a corner of the VIP section where the AC seemed to be working better, and as you stumbled inside the small space, you ran chest first into someone.

“Sorry,” you said, taking a step back and pressing your back against the cold wall.

“Enjoying your win?” Your head snapped up as you recognised Max’s voice. You had run into him.

Lando had mentioned inviting Max to the party, he had gotten a P2 in the race but you doubted he would go to a party he knew you would attend. You were obviously wrong.

“You know I am,” the victory was so good that nothing could ruin your mood.

“Well, then enjoy it. I’m coming for the win, again.” He warned you but his voice was devoid of anything, just sounded like he was casually telling you about the weather. But you knew that he was implying his championship the year before, rubbing it in your face.

“Don’t be so confident, Max,” you finished your water, smirking at him, “Enjoy the view of my rear!”

You flipped your hair, feeling his eyes on you the whole walk back to the dance floor.

And yet-

Somehow-

You ended up back at that small corner, dancing with your body pressed between Verstappen’s and the wall, his hand holding your jaw firmly, you rolled your hips against him, feeling the way his body responded to yours.

“We can’t-” he said to you, still, his eyes hadn’t left your lips, like he was so oh so tempted.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Sober you would never do that, but then, that was a problem for later. Checking to see if anyone was looking at you, you hooked a finger around his waistband and pulled him towards the bathroom.

As soon as the two of you were inside, you locked the door and Max pressed your back against the door, latching his lips to yours in a very desperate open mouthed kiss. You hugged his shoulders, opening your lips to him, his hands went down your sides and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. But that wasn’t enough, so he held your thighs and pulled up, carrying you. You locked your legs around his waist, and he stopped the kiss to walk, sitting you on the marble side of the sink, still between your legs, forcing his bulge against your panties, and eliciting a moan from you.

He took a half step back to hike your dress up, palming your cunt over your panties feeling the dampness of it, he tried to press his hand under your panties, but the lacy fabric didn’t leave much space, so he simply tore the bottom of them, exposing you to him. He just ran a finger over your slit, collecting your wetness for a brief moment before pushing a finger into you. Max watched your face with concentration, studying your body’s responses. Your hips shaking at the movement of his finger, and when the second one joined, you got louder. He curled his fingers up, his thumb pressing your clit, and you had to use both hands to hold onto him, your head lolling back against the mirror.

“Take it and shut the fuck up,” he grunted between clenched teeth.

He was pressing your insides so good, the slick sound of his fingers going in and out, his heavy breathing, the loud music outside and his laser focused fingers had you coming against his fingers in minutes. When he noticed you close, cunt spasming against his fingers, he pressed the other hand against your mouth, covering your moans when your toes curled and you orgasmed on his hand.

Max barely let you recover as he opened his jeans and stroked himself twice before pushing his cock into you in one swift move, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“That’s what you wanted, right? Fucking teasing me all night,” He pushed particularly hard, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, “you’re a fucking menace, y’know that? Fucking insufferable,” then his words became a mumbling of something dutch you couldn’t quite catch anymore with the way his hips snapped against yours, taking all your focus away and turning you into a mess of moaning.

Max fucked like he raced, focused and relentless, brutal. He hugged you with one arm around your waist to keep you in place and the other held you face, tilting your head so he could kiss you, or whatever that mess of saliva, tongues and teeth was. Your orgasm crashed through you unexpectedly, and you only hugged him tighter, pressing your face against his chest, biting into his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt to silence yourself, your teeth sinking into him was enough to send him also over the edge, coming with moans against your ear.

That night, you went home with shaking legs and an incoming headache, as Max left with the scraps of your panties in his pocket and your lipstick stain on his shirt, above his chest.

It was the seventh race of the year, Monaco, and you absolutely hated that specific track since your years of F2. During your two first years in F1 you had awful experiences, the rookie year you DNF and the year prior you had barely managed a P7. You were trying to keep your head up, be hopeful that you could at least try for top 5.

But since you couldn’t catch a fucking break, an old video of your teenage years resurfaced.

You were walking to your first round of interviews when Amanda, your PR manager, started walking by your side.

“There’s something. An old video of a karting competition resurfaced, where Max and Charles pretty much call you stupid,” Amanda was always direct, you could give it to her.

“Let me see the video” you asked, offering your hand for her phone.

“We don’t have time, but everyone will ask you about it. I need you to be the bigger person and act like it isn’t important, yes? They will try to taunt you and get a bad reaction from you, I need you to dismiss everything they throw at you. Agreed?”

You sighed. You knew the stuff from your teens were pretty bad, you rarely badmouthed Max or Charles, but they always felt threatened by you, so there were lots of instances they attacked you. Honestly, you just didn’t want to come out of this victimized. So as you entered the first round of interviews, you decided you were going to downplay anything they asked you.

“Y/N, have you seen the footage of you, Max and Charles from your teenage years that resurfaced recently?”

“No, uh, I haven’t.”

Someone pushed an iPad in your hands because of course, they wanted a live reaction from you. You pressed play, reading the subtitles someone put on the video. It was an amateur recording like a post race interview made by another teenage guy. First as Max walked out of the track, the guy asked what he thought of your win.

“It was luck, she’s not bright enough to think of a strategy,” Max said, walking away, clearly pissed having lost to you.

There was a cut and the camera was turned on again when Charles walked toward the guy asking the question. He repeated exactly the same question he had asked Max.

“Y/N, I don’t worry about her long term. She’s not going very far in this sport anyway,” Charles shrugged, seemingly unbothered.

As the video cut again, it showed your face, you remembered when that was. You were 14, and your dad had dropped you a few months earlier, so you were working your ass off balancing school, work and karting.

“Hey, Y/N. What do you think of your result today?”

“Uh, I tried a new strategy I learned earlier this week, thankfully it worked in my favor,” teen-You dried your forehead with your coat’s sleeve.

“What are your plans for this competition?”

“Well, I hope to be good enough to get into F4 next year, and work my way up into Formula 1,” you smiled softly and walked away after a quick bye.

The video ended and you still spent a few seconds staring at the black screen of the iPad. This interview didn’t come to your mind in more than a decade, but it was nice seeing how you made your 14-year-old dream come true.

“So, what do you say?” The reporter extended his mic to you.

“I guess I proved them wrong, right?” You giggled a little, “don’t take it to heart, really. We were all hormonal teenagers, I’m sure if someone digs, they will find a video of me saying the same stuff about them,” you shrugged, despite that being a lie, sounded dismissive enough.

“So it doesn’t upset you?” The reporter insisted, and you knew he wanted a scandal you weren’t willing to give.

“Of course not. I’ve always known my worth, and I’m P1 in the driver’s championship as of right now. So I don’t really care.”

The interviewers soon let the video go, when they realized you didn’t care about it. You weren’t sure if anyone would also approach Charles or Max with questions about the same video, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to avoid drama for the time being so you could focus on the championship instead of this bullshit.

On the morning of qualifying, you were in your room, trying to meditate and clear your mind, when a knock interrupted you.

“Guys, I asked for twenty minutes so I could-” you stop yourself when you realize it isn’t anyone from your team, but it’s Max and Charles, “what are you doing here?”

“We came to apologize about the video,” Max started.

“Did your PR teams send you here?” You looked around, trying to catch a camera or even a phone recording.

“No uh, we realized we were very immature with you, and this video is just proof of how silly that was,” Charles sighed, seemingly embarrassed.

“You don’t need to apologize, I mean- the two of you really had it out for me, you called me dumb a lot,” you pointed to Max, then Charles, “and you called me ugly countless times. I don’t know why it would make any difference now.”

You were just so used to being defensive, to protect yourself from hatred you found it hard to believe them, to give them a chance to apologize because you couldn’t believe it to be genuine.

“Even if you don’t take it, or believe it, I would like to apologize for that behavior. I was just a stupid kid.” Max looked deep into your eyes, which could’ve made you uncomfortable if he didn’t seem so honest.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It was too idiotic to be like that to you, growing up. You were just a kid too.” Charles added.

You understood where that apology came from, it was stupid and embarrassing for all three of you this teenage rivalry when you all were barely mid racers back in the day. Sighing, you looked around, dropping your façade for a second, allowing yourself to display the same honesty they showed you.

It was hard and required some sort of deprogramming because you could only see them as rivals, like your dad had whispered in your brain so many times before, like their actions towards you had cemented dad’s words. They had said things that were on your mind for so long, that had made you defensive and deflective.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Whatever happened back then, it’s water under the bridge,” You shifted on your feet. As they started walking away, you added “this doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

They only nodded before leaving. Your routine went back to the same, and as the next scandal went on, people forgot about the silly video, but a very specific part of the fans started shipping you and both your rivals.

The rivalry never died down though.

Then, out of nowhere, Sebastian pulled you and Lewis aside to a conversation. Then he told you that he was going to retire by the end of the season. It was the first time the two of them saw you cry, and Sebastian hugged you tight, shushing your crying softly.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, petting your head.

“No, don’t apologize,” you let him go, drying your face, “I have listened to you talking countless times about how you missed the kids. Don’t apologize for choosing to be a great dad. I know Hanna and the kiddos will be ecstatic.”

“You two are my closest friends here, that’s why I wanted to tell you first, before my announcement.”

“Thank you, Seb,” you said, eyes still watering, “I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Thank you for telling us beforehand,” Lewis said, also visibly emotional.

The season was writing itself to be just as close as the year prior, but now you were slightly better at keeping the lead most.

That is until Zandvoort. This GP was always a nightmare to you, because it was full of Max’s fans, and they absolutely hated you for being his rival. You had been booed when you were on the podium the year before, so now, you and Amanda decided it was best to keep your head down during the whole week. Not out of shame, but more of a matter of safety, you didn’t know how far the crowd could go in antagonizing you. When you were booed the other year, Max had said it was part of the sport and dismissed the conversation.

The morning of free practice, you went into the paddock very low-key and kept to yourself. You arrived with a little cup of coffee and got mentally ready for a hostile environment the whole weekend. That, until you spotted a small group of people dressed with your color and wearing your number, waving wildly to you.

In a spur of the moment decision, you went there, getting close to the barrier to sign a few caps and take a few selfies. In retrospect, you knew you shouldn’t have done that, especially with only two bodyguards accompanying you.

You were finishing chatting with your fans when you felt something heavy hit the side of your head and the impact made you stumble backwards, you were confused as you heard the screams and felt one of the bodyguards pull you back, as the other jumped the barrier and started running. You patted your temple and something wet and sticky was dripping down the side of your face. You stared at the small group of fans who were looking at you horrified. Staring at the hand, you saw the red staining your fingers, and as the bodyguard kept pulling you away to somewhere safer, the thing flowed even more and  got into your left eye.

You wondered if it was blood as you touched your temple but felt nothing, not a gash nor small cut. You covered your left eye as it started to sting from what you supposed smelt like paint.

“Hey, hey, what happened? You’re bleeding!” Max jogged up to you.

“Not blood, just paint” you muttered, trying to use your coat to clean your face.

“Someone threw a paint ball at her,” the bodyguard said.

“Fuck, it’s burning!” You exclaimed, feeling tears in your left eye.

“Come here, the RB hospitality is close,” Max said, holding your wrist, he stopped shortly pointing to your bodyguard, “and you, sort this and find the person who did it.”

You let yourself be taken by Max into the RB territory, the burning so annoying that you rather take whatever solution he was thinking of. He held your waist and placed you sitting on a sink, and then you felt water streaming down your face.

“Stay still,” Max commanded, holding a hose over your head, pouring water down your face, “now blink slowly, let the water wash it,” his voice soft as you did what he told you to. Slowly but surely, it washed the paint away, relieving your left eye from the stinging. Max held the hose up and held your chin, tilting your head up so he could check your eye, still letting the water stream down your face.

You took a few minutes, breathing and regulating your heartbeat from that scare, trying to come back to normal and understand fully what was going on. From what you gathered, you were chatting with fans when someone else came and threw something with paint at you.

“How does it feel?” 

“It’s better, already stopped burning,” you told him, feeling your heart miss a beat at the close proximity you found yourself to him. You were sitting on a sink, Max standing between your legs pretty much like you two had done months before for entirely different reasons.

“Open your eye, let me see,” he asked, and you tried to blink it open, “can you see?”

“It’s a little blurry but I believe it will get better,” you explained, and he didn’t let go of your chin. Suddenly, he covered your right eye with the other hand, leaving you only with your left eye sight.

“How many fingers am I putting up?” He showed it to your left eye. The vision was a bit blurry but you still could make out the shapes very clearly.

“Four, Max. It’s just a little bit blurry, probably will get better in a few minutes” you sounded annoyed, you tried to move but he pressed a hand against your waist, keeping you in place.

“Now, what happened?” He asked finally. You ignored the proximity, and the hand still on your body.

“We’re in Zandvoort, that’s what happened,” you shrugged, really annoyed about it.

“What do you mean?” He was visibly confused. You scoffed because you knew it wasn’t something he didn’t know, since the year before he has dismissed the importance of how hostile people were to you.

“We’re massively surrounded by your fans, Max.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They hate me because you hate me, and they think because you hate me they’re justified in their hostility towards me,” You explained, with a sigh, you pushed away from Max, “this GP has been like this for me ever since Rookie year.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said, brows furrowed.

“You do. And they do too,” you pointed down at the paint that had also stained your shirt as proof.

“I don’t,” he insisted and you rolled your eyes, jumping off the sink, but he didn’t give you space, which made you stand chest to chest with him, “I promise.”

You stared at him, breathless. That wasn’t part of the game you played, being kind, sounding worried and making promises. None of that was part of this whole rivalry. Pushing his chest, you tried getting away but he caged you against the sink, body flush against yours.

“Do you believe me?” He asked and your eyes fell to his lips, and you allowed yourself to remember the desperate and chaotic kisses you had shared in a dimly lit bathroom, “I don’t support any of this behavior.”

You heard voices and steps approaching, which made you finally push him away, walking towards the door. Whatever little magic had been happening between those walls was undone the moment you remembered none of that would’ve happened if he had politely put a stop to it earlier.

“It’s part of the sport and I have to deal with it, right?” You returned the very same words he had said about you when you were booed by the crowd the year prior.

As you opened the door, you were faced with Sebastian. He stopped, taking you in and then pulling you in a hug.

“Are you ok? We just heard what happened!” He murmured, guiding you out of the bathroom. He held your shoulders and looked at your face, checking how your left eye was still a little red, “we should take you to see a doctor, come on.”

Lewis soon arrived at the entrance of the RBR station, he warned about the reporters crowding outside, waiting for a glimpse of you after the attack. The British man gave you a Mercedes coat so you put it over your head and avoid the cameras waiting outside. With the bodyguards and both Lewis and Sebastian leading you away, you ended up at the medical center, and after a quick examination, the doctor gave you eye drops to put throughout the day.

Your Principal suggested you sit the FP1 out, letting the reserve driver take your place while you recovered. By the middle of FP1, your eyesight was 100% and you went to get ready for FP2. The whole day you felt like everyone was being extra careful, tiptoeing around you. You hated feeling like you were being pitied, so when the inevitable round of interviews came, you knew what you had to do.

“We heard about your incident earlier today, how are you feeling about it?” Someone asked.

“I’m pretty upset, to be honest. Formula 1 is a sport loved around the whole world, and the paddock overall is supposed to be a safe place not only for the fans, but also the workers and drivers. What happened today is unacceptable and could’ve been much worse. I’m voicing my dissatisfaction and I intend to, through legal means, take this complaint to the FIA.”

Later that night, as you laid awake on your bed, scrolling through the repercussions of the day, you stopped when you saw a snippet of Max's interview.

“What happened today was dangerous and unacceptable, I don’t support this behavior and I stand with Y/N,” that was all he said, but Max usually was a man of few words, always knowing when it was enough.

You knew he should’ve voiced that much earlier in your career, specifically after the booing the year before, but still- He also could have opted to not say anything at all, and he didn’t.

Amanda also sent you the news that the fan who had attacked you was found and banned for life from Formula 1.

After calling Sebastian, you managed to get ahold of Max’s phone number and texted him a simple message.

Thank you. Twice. - Lioness

The text went to read almost immediately, and the three dots appeared from his side of the screen. You wait, and wait, and wait. And then the dots disappeared, and an answer never came.

After a solid P2 that weekend in Zandvoort, you went home for the summer break. You and your mom had planned to go to Monaco for a little while since you were planning on buying a place there. From there, you and your mom would go all around the French Riviera to enjoy the sea and spend a few days in a spa resort. Then, you would go back home and relax before going to Ibiza for a weekend to meet Lando and his friends to enjoy some partying.

Everything went according to plan, but one day when you came back home after the trip to the French Riviera, you found your mom passed out on the living room floor.

You called an ambulance, quickly taking her into the hospital. Everything was a blur, the tests and scans, your mom still unconscious on a hospital bed, and the results. The results that pulled the floor from under your feet.

Your brain couldn’t fully compute what was said. Cancer Stage 4. Surgery. Palliative care.

The world was muted around you as you sat on a chair in the waiting room, hands shaking when you tried to understand what was happening. You somehow ended up calling the one other person you trust.

“Y/N? What happened?”

“I don’t understand- she just- she just passed out and I thought- but- but they said- palliative care” you try to come up with words.

“Talk to me. Are you sick?” Kimi’s voice is so focused and a little soothing.

“It’s mom”

“Send your location, I’m going there,” that’s all he said.

Waiting for Kimi gave you some sense of purpose, because it’s Kimi. He could fix anything. He fixed your life when you were 14, he can do it again. He would get there and find a way to help. Your mind got so clouded when the word cancer was thrown in the conversation, that you probably missed the part about treatments and- and surgery and stuff.

In your mother’s room there was a comfortable couch where you tried to settle to sleep, but you only spent countless hours awake. You hoped to see the doctor again to try and get him to explain everything for a second time.

You wished you were smart and quick, but no, you just sat there holding onto the hope that Kimi had a way to fix this.

Kimi arrived early the next morning, knocking on the door before entering. You stood up, hugging him tight.

“What happened?”

“It’s pancreatic cancer, they said. We need to see more about surgery and- and treatments.”

You and Kimi found the doctor, who explained again, and in that moment you finally understood what he meant the first time around. She was in a late stage of pancreatic cancer, which was usually a very difficult illness to find before it is too late, due to the placement of the organ in the body and late symptoms. The only options were either to try a very risky surgery and chemo so she could extend her life for around 8 months to a year. Or she could go home to live her last few months the way she wanted.

You begged and cried and bribed and offered every single solution your brain could muster to try and save her. Kimi held you when you fell to the floor, sobbing.

When your mom woke up and you and Kimi told her the diagnosis, she cried too, sobbing in your arms as you tried to hold it together for her sake. It took a couple of days for her to choose to go home. The two of you spent the last days of summer break traveling around the world a bit more, visiting temples and statues, and seeing nature and everything good the world had to offer, going to places motorsport hadn’t taken you to.

Your mom went to every race week from there on, even when she felt especially weak, even when you had to hire a full time medical team for her. 

Your focus on the season was solely on the moment between entering the car and leaving the car. You still managed to race like you’ve done before, calm and controlled, with the help of your engineers and team, you still could put the car where you wanted it, paving your way for a solid world championship that year. It was like your brain was seeing racing as the one thing in your life you had full control over, so sometimes you even felt like you and the car were one.

You didn’t tell anyone about her. Though every driver noticed how distant you were, even Charles and Max and the ones that weren’t very close to you noticed how you were only fulfilling your obligations and leaving, you weren’t even celebrating your wins, leaving the fastest you could after a race.

The Singapore GP was tough for you, having to leave your mom home alone with the medical staff and a couple of friends from her book club, since she wasn’t strong enough to travel anymore. Your attention was failing all throughout media day and free practices. Qualifying was shit compared to your performance the rest of the season.

In Q3 you did a reasonable sector 1 and 2 but you messed up sector 3 completely. It was a complete accident when you got in the way of a Ferrari when he was doing his fast lap, and you ended up messing his qualy too. Jace let you know it was none other than Charles Leclerc, who was setting the pace for a pole position. Out of 19 drivers, you had to ruin his lap. In the end, Max got pole, Charles qualified P3 and you qualified P5.

You went through the motions during the post qualifying press. You were about to leave after debriefing, when Charles Leclerc found you on the way to the parking lot. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself protectively as he walked up to you. You were hoping to escape his fury at least until after the race the next day. Before he could even get a word in, you started.

“Look, I know I messed up your pole. I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn’t intentional. I really thought there was no one doing fast laps on the track, I thought everyone was either still doing out laps or in the pits, so when you-”

“Calm down, breathe,” he interrupted you, “I’m not here to fight.”

“No?” You frowned, confused with the kindness in his eyes.

“We know you’re going through something, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear this from, but you’re not alone. And you should really consider talking with someone on the grid. They’re all- we’re all worried about you.”

The words felt alien coming from his mouth, but the gentleness was so comforting you felt a lump in your throat.

“Why do you think I’m not ok?” You muttered trying to sound confident, but your voice failed, betraying you.

“You’re skinny and you look sleep deprived for a few weeks now,” Charles said directly.

“Damn, thanks.”

“I don’t mean it like that, you know it,” he paused, putting both hands on his pockets, “have you been eating?” Your lack of response made him press further, “have you eaten today?”

You pressed your lips together, not wanting to answer that.

“Let’s go, I’ll drive you to the hotel, we’ll stop on the way to grab some food,” Charles gestured to his car, a few meters away. You stood there, shocked as he started walking away, then he stopped looking over his shoulder, “come on, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

As you sat in his Ferrari, Charles put music on and you didn’t do much talking, but it was tranquil. He called the restaurant to order take out on the way, and 30 minutes later he dropped you off at the hotel with a bag full of food.

“Thank you, Charles.” You whispered before leaving the car.

You ate the food while on a video call with your mom.

You recovered well during the race, finishing P2, behind Max and ahead of Charles.

Your mom passed away a few days after the Japanese Grand Prix, the one you had won and dedicated it to her from the top step of the podium, even if she wasn’t there, just watching from home. You went home and stayed with her, holding her hands and hugging her as much as you could.

Some part of you knew she was somehow fighting, because she had promised you the year before she would be there when you became world champion. You could see she was hoping to make it to the end of the season, but you also knew she wouldn’t, and you rather she didn’t have to endure any more pain just for your sake.

“You don’t need to fight anymore, ma,” you whispered before she went to sleep, “you raised a strong woman, too. I will see you on the other side, ok? You can rest now, I love you.”

“I’m so proud of you, honey. I love you to the moon and back.”

You made it through her small funeral, following what she had written down before passing. An intimate funeral, full of flowers and a toast to her life. You cried the whole time, with Kimi and Minttu taking turns at comforting you as they could. Coming back to an empty home smelling of cleaning products made you almost lose your mind, and the sight of you in such despair was enough for Kimi to convince you to stay with them until you had to travel for the next race, in almost seven days.

The days passed in a crying blur, you let part of your team know about your mom’s passing. Only Amanda, Jace and your Principal. Jace tried to convince you to take a break and not go to the next race in Mexico, but you quickly shut it off. Not only because racing was the one thing keeping you sane amidst the chaos, but because you were so close to the championship, and  it was still close competition with Max and Charles, so you couldn’t afford to lose a race and the points that could come with it.

You had to honor your mom in some way.

That’s how you ended up on a plane to Austin with Kimi and Amanda. You knew Kimi had convinced you to let him go because he was sure you’d have a mental breakdown anytime along the weekend, but deep down you appreciated the company. Arriving there, Jace was the first to hug you and whisper his condolences, as well as your TP too.

You survived the entire weekend without breaking down crying in public, but that was your worst race in a few months, the first time out of a podium since Spa. You ended up P5, which luckily wasn’t too bad because Max finished P4 which you were grateful for as he was the one who was P2 in the driver’s championship close behind you.

After that week, you packed your stuff and moved to the new condo in Monaco you had bought during summer break. Despite loving your mom to pieces, you couldn’t manage to live alone in the house you bought for her a couple of years before, it was lonely and it hit you with overwhelming waves of sadness all the time. You distracted yourself a lot with buying furniture and decorations for the new place, and discovering Monte Carlo in a whole new way. The one comfort in all that, was knowing your mom wasn’t suffering anymore.

Then you went straight to Mexico for the next Grand Prix, this time, Kimi left you because he had to come home to Minttu and the kids. Amanda had been such a support for you, that you knew you had to give her something special for the holidays, out of gratitude.

Everything was going as expected until the press conference. You were there with Charles, Max, Sebastian and Lando. You suspected they were putting you always in the same group as Max and Charles because, as the season nearing the end, only three races left, they were your close competition.

While someone asked something of Charles, you were whispering with Sebastian, chatting about Mexican foods you wanted to try after the race. Then, something bizarre happened, and phones started to ping all around the room, between reporters, cameras and everyone else started checking their phones. It seemed like something out of a black mirror nightmare.

You reached for your phone but then remembered you left it to charge in your room.

“This question is for Y/N,” a reporter asked, reading something from his phone, “there’s a new article that just came out saying your mom passed away a couple of weeks ago, is that true?”

Your blood ran cold, and every sound felt like it was muted inside the room. Wide eyed, you searched for Amanda, who was somewhere on the opposite side of the room, and when you found her, she was pale. Then, there was a cacophony of voices and cameras and questions, that made you suddenly overwhelmed.

Swallowing, trying to reassess, you found Sebastian already standing, holding your shoulders. Looking around you noticed how the other three drivers had stood up, making some sort of shield around you, protecting you from the cameras and reporters swarming around. 

“We can go, ok? Come on,” Sebastian was saying when Amanda caught up to you, leaning beside Sebastian.

“We can leave, right now,” she said, holding your hand.

Still a little confused, you nodded and let them both guide you back to your room.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sebastian hugged you, running his hands on your back for comfort.

“How- how did they find out?” You ask Amanda.

“An article came out, I’m not sure. Someone was probably digging into your life, but don’t worry, I put the team on it already.”

“How do- how we diffuse this? How do we proceed? We need to address this, right?” You started blabbering, trying to wrap your head around everything.

“That was very disrespectful of them to ask like that!” Sebastian exclaimed, making you two jolt.

“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Do you want me to release a note asking for privacy?” Amanda suggested.

“Can I write something and then run it by you?” You asked, she only nodded.

After a moment, both Amanda and Seb left you alone as you typed a note on your phone. You rewrote and deleted a few times before settling on something heartfelt and respectful but also, calling out the invasion of privacy.

My mom passed away a few days ago after battling with cancer for the past few months.

She had requested of me to keep it a secret until after the season was over, so I could mourn her without the weight of racing over my shoulders. 

But obviously someone went digging and disrespected not only one of her last wishes but also disrespected my grief and my right to privacy. I love my mom but I’ll not be answering any more questions about her illness or death, please respect me and respect her memory.

All the love, Y/N

Nobody asked anything over the weekend, but again, it felt like everyone was tiptoeing around you. As soon as you first saw Nano the next day, he held you tight for almost a minute whispering his condolences, and it made you almost cry again. Lewis also spared you a hug, saying if you ever needed anything, to contact him.

You survived that weekend, and decided to go straight to Brazil for the next GP instead of going back to Monaco. In São Paulo you mostly slept your worries and fears away. You had promised yourself to try and focus on the season only, to make your dream come true, to fulfill your mom’s promise in some way.

With Ferrari’s bad strategy in Mexico, they had ruined Charles’ chance at the championship. Now your only competition was Max and the Red Bull rocketship.

You rewatched the race a couple of times as you usually did, to try and catch any mistakes you or your team may have made, to fix it for the next one. But also to try and notice any weaknesses of your rivals, if it was something you could use in your own favor.

You noticed right away in the FP1 that your car wasn’t adhering to the track, you were losing balance and needed more force than usual to keep yourself in place. By FP2, you managed to control your car better, but that caused your tyres to wear off way more quickly.

Quali was one of the shittiest you’ve ever done in your career, taking you out in Q2 for the first time that year, placing you for a start at P12.

“Listen, we’ll do better tomorrow, ok?” Jace told you as soon as you entered the garage, seeing Max still out with a shot at pole position.

“Give me a few minutes to unwind, please,” you asked, dropping your helmet, balaclava and gloves at a nearby table.

You went straight to your room, searching for your phone. Immediately calling Kimi, you waited for him to pick up.

“I watched it,” he said first and foremost.

“If I do bad in the race tomorrow, and Max does well, then I’m gonna lose the championship, Kimi,” saying that out loud made you shiver in horror, “FUCK!” You screamed, kicking a chair.

“First of all, even if you did bad tomorrow, you’d still have a chance to fight for the championship in Abu Dhabi. You know that,” Kimi warned you as if he was scolding a little kid, “second of all, I never taught you this loser mindset. You’ll have to find a way to work around the problems in your car tomorrow.”

“Shit, I’m so fucked! How? How could I even-”

“Remember when I first met you? Your kart was with almost this same problem, yeah? Remember you got P2? You went ahead and fixed it. That’s what I need you to do tomorrow, don’t focus on what you can’t do, only focus on what you can do.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“No trying. Do it.”

After spending the entire night crafting plan A, B, C and Z with you strategists and engineers, you barely got any sleep, but you forced yourself to rest. In the morning, you went to the track early to meet with your team again, to run your strategies one more time, when you had an idea. You’d still follow the plans you had carefully crafted with the team, but you decided to make a Plan Star, as you had called. Interlagos didn’t have any safety car in the last two years, so it was dangerous to fully count on one. But your plan star consisted in the case of a safety car in this one specific window of laps, you’d go to the pits for hards, counting on everyone else being on old softs or mediums at that specific point in the race. But for it to work, you had to be the first of the front field to go in.

As the lights went out and you accelerated, you got already three positions up, landing in P9, and luckily, the points zone. Jace was worried in your ears, talking about the car and the tyres management. With controlled calm and Kimi’s voice in your head, you managed a few more positions in the first 14 laps, landing P7. You lost a bit of time there, since Nando was P6 and everyone knew how tough it always is to overtake him. But you eventually managed to get the position. Unfortunately, it was the moment you had to go to your first pitstop. Due to the problems in your car wearing off your tyres, you would have to go for a two-stop, which ended up costing you three positions again. But you were patient and you were rewarded when the other cars had to pit, which gave you back the four places you had lost.

The race you went on and you barely moved up or down from your P5, but you managed to concentrate.

Jace, on the other hand was sounding more and more worried about your second pit stop, about the difficulty in get closer to P4, about the P6 trying to enter DRS zone behind you, with your tyres wearing off, with the-

“Jace, I love you but please shut the fuck up, I know what to do,” you were praying for a miracle when suddenly, there was a yellow flag, and the safety car went out during the perfect window of laps, “fuck, Jace, this is plan star.”

“Copy,” he paused, his voice sounding secure, “Box, box.”

You changed into hards, no one else went to the pits, and the race restarted after three more laps. The safety car had closed the gap between you and the P4, which made you overtake him easily.

Jace was still keeping quiet to help your concentration, he only interrupted to warn you about overheating your tyres, and your velocity per lap compared to the next position. You started overtaking like a madwoman as much as your tyres allowed.

“That’s P1, Lioness,” Jace told you.

“Copy that.” You said with your voice shaken.

As you managed your P1, you went back to be aware of your surroundings, seeing a Red Bull right behind you, trying to overtake but you managed to hold position.

When you took the checkered flag, you sighed with relief, Kimi was right.

“Congratulations, Y/N! That’s a brilliant, brilliant win!” Jace’s voice was sounding shaken too.

“You’re crying, Jace?” You laughed softly.

“It’s an honor to tell you that you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a Formula 1 world champion!” Jace shouts, and behind him you can hear more people screaming.

“What? Jace you’re fucking with me!”

“No, Lioness, you’re the 2022 champion of the world!”

“But- but how? There’s one race left? And Max was right behind me!”

“No, Verstappen DNFed during that one yellow flag. Behind you was Perez.”

You made the calculations quickly in your head. Max was P2 in the championship, but this DNF meant no points, and even if he managed to win the last race in Abu Dhabi, he wouldn’t be able to equal you in points. So-

“OH MY GOD, oh my god!” You screamed your lungs out, feeling the tears streaming down into your balaclava, “Fuck yes! I’m Formula 1 World Champion! Thank you, thank you so much guys! Jace, holy shit, I’m the champion!”

“You’re the champion!” Jace confirmed.

You felt joy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time, as you stopped your car on the number one spot. Still a little dizzy from the thrill, you left the car, going straight to your team, heavily waiting for you. They all hugged you, hitting your helmet, saying congratulations and everything. You took a moment to hug Jace and Amanda, who had been of great support throughout the year.

After getting weighted and being congratulated by the other two on the podium, Perez and Hamilton, the latter hugging you tight as he took you off the floor, you drank water as you waited for the post race interview with Nico Rosberg.

You were giddy, barely holding yourself together with how happy you were feeling, how you wanted to hold the trophy, how grateful you were and more importantly, how you felt a great weight being lifted off your shoulders.

“Y/N, congratulations on becoming a World Champion! I have to say, as a girl dad, it is great to see you become the first woman ever to win this title. How do you feel? What do you want to say?” Nico offered, with a kind smile.

“To be honest, I can barely contain myself. It’s such an honor to be here and be the world champion. I look at the past and see my younger self who never thought would make it to Formula 1. It’s such a dream come true, after this year’s hardships, I’m glad to achieve the greatest dream of them all!” You said, kinda quickly, rambling as you tried to put into words all the emotions mixed with the happiness, “I’m sorry, I know I’m taking up all your time, I just want to dedicated this win, and this championship to three people who saved my life: Kimi, thank you for being the salvation of my career when we first met; And my mom, who’s not here anymore, thank you for being the light in my darkest days. And lastly, I want to thank myself for working my ass off and never giving up.”

You muttered a thank you as Nico only laughed at your rambling. Before you moved to the cooldown, you grabbed the mic back again.

“May I add one last thing?” You asked for Nico, who only nodded, pointing to the camera again, “This is to my father: I made it, you asshole.”

You wanted to send the middle finger too, but you knew you couldn’t because of the FIA’s guidelines, and you were already risking a penalty for cursing on live TV. In the cooldown room, you sat beside Lewis, watching a few highlights of the race on the screen. It showed a couple of your overtakes.

“Damn, you overtook like crazy,” Lewis muttered, seemingly amazed.

“I pulled a Lewis Hamilton in Interlagos last year,” you joked, and he laughed.

That podium felt like the culmination of everything you had worked for your whole life, felt like recovering your love for the sport for what it was, for the fast cars and the adrenaline. Being on that podium in Brazil as a World Champion shifted something inside you forever. During your anthem, you laughed, and when you got the trophy, you cried, pointing the trophy to the sunny sky with a silent prayer to your mom. You barely noticed, but you felt the champagne raining on you, and opened your arms to shower in it. Putting the trophy down, you splashed the other bottle, laughing and wetting everyone that was close to you, Lewis, Checo, Jace, who had gone up representing the team.

When the celebration ended, you stayed behind a little more, watching the crowd from the podium, and they started chanting. It took you a few seconds to realize they were chanting your name.

You raised your trophy at them, and they cheered even louder. Then you pointed it to the sky again.

“Look, ma, I made it” you whispered to yourself, feeling the tears streaming down your face.

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Max is painfully bad at cooking. [blurb]

I mean it. He orders food, or you'll cook in his place sometimes when you're there. Not a single hair in his body was destined to cook. The last time the stove was on for him to boil some water, the pot burned and the water is gone because he left them while chatting with his friend on stream. He thought water couldn't boil that fast.. right? Dead wrong. But deep in his heart, he'll try if it was regarding you. One day, both of you were too hungry to wait for your food order. The only restaurant open at wee hours of night is far away. The order said to be arriving in 45 minutes. Seeing your tired face as he read the arrival time for the order, he mentally notes to find a cup noodles. As you cleaned yourself and lay on the bed for a while, he started his work on the kitchen. He boiled some water and opens a cup noodle beside the pot. He kept an intense stare at the water boiling at the pot. Once the water start boiling for quite a time, he turned the stove off and poured the hot water into the cup noodles and stir it for quite a while. After stirring what he deemed is enough for a cup noodles, he calls you from the living room.

You perked at the mention of noodles by him. You approached him in the living room, with him handling you the cup noodles as he turns on the TV to find something to watched. As you sip the string of noodles, you can't help but notice how the noodles wasn't cooked thoroughly; it was half cooked. And the color of the broth.. Is this flavor of noodle was supposed to have broth? You read the flavor name slightly as he watches you with pride in his eyes. Whew. This is a fried noodles; it wasn't supposed to have any broth. Max looked at you hopefully, grinning. The TV was long forgotten, all his focused was consumed by his lover eating the noodles he cooked.

"Schatje? I cooked you some noodles,"

He looked so proud; you don't have the heart to tell him that this noodle wasn't supposed to have broth and the noodle is half-cooked, so you replied,

"How was it? Was it good?"

"Yeah! It's good, Max!" as you finished the noodle he cooked.

Safe to say when the food arrived, you're the first to eat, and being the last to finish. Satisfy the hunger, they say.

After all, it's the thought that counts.

[little blurbs as I worked on longer fic.. hope you like it!]