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#max verstappen red bull
kornelias · 1 month
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he was sunshine, I was midnight rain
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Charles Leclerc | Scuderia Ferrari & Max Verstappen | Red Bull ❤️💙
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sunny44 · 7 days
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Joker
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!reader
Warnings: none
Summary: Max and the others celebrate the end of the racing season at a club. And obviously he and Y/n will discuss.
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The pulsating music filled the club, creating an upbeat atmosphere as Max, Charles, Carlos, Lando, Daniel, Pierre and Y/n celebrated the end of the racing season. The dance floor was crowded with people having fun, and the group found a quieter corner to chat and enjoy the night.
Max, always the joker of the group, couldn't resist making a tasteless joke that ended up irritating me for how inappropriate it was. I shot him a furious look and began expressing how idiotic that joke was.
"Max, you have no limits, seriously!" I complained, crossing my arms indignantly. "You have no idea how inappropriate that joke is."
Max just smiled, seemingly unconcerned with my reaction. He was used to the love-hate game they played.
"Oh, come on, sweetheart. You know I can't resist a good joke.” he said, trying to calm the situation.
"But there's a limit, you have to stop with these senseless things in public, someday someone's going to hear and not like it at all. We might understand your sense of humor but eventually..."
But before she could continue complaining, Max interrupted her with a sudden kiss. He pulled me closer, silencing any protest she might have had.
Surprised by the unexpected gesture, she was momentarily speechless. But soon she surrendered to the kiss, setting aside her initial irritation.
Meanwhile, the other members of the group watched the scene with amused smiles. Charles laughed and shook his head, accustomed to the peculiar interactions between Max and me.
"These two will never change, will they?" Carlos commented, raising his drink to toast the couple.
Lando nodded, agreeing with his friend. "That's what makes life interesting. Never a dull moment with them around."
“They say they hate each other but they can’t be apart for too long.”
“That's built-up horniness, they need to get laid.” Pierre said.
“And what made you think they haven’t yet?”
“I’m sure they already have.” Carlos says.
“I’ll ask.” Lando says waiting for them to come back.
Daniel and Pierre just smiled, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of the night. They were happy to be there together, celebrating the end of an intense racing season.
As the kiss between Max and me continued, we gradually pulled away, smiling at each other as if we had shared a funny secret.
"You're impossible, Max.” I said, shaking my head with a mixture of exasperation and affection.
"But you love me anyway.” he replied, winking at me with a mischievous smile.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but laugh. After all, it was hard to resist Max's irresistible charm, even when he was being annoying.
“I have something to ask.” Lando says as they get close to them.
“What?” Max asked hugging her from behind.
“Have you guys fucked yet?”
“What kinda questions is that?”
“Yes.” They answer at the same time.
“You are so indiscreet.” She says.
“Oh cmon, no one is a virgin anymore.”
“But yeah, we fucked. Why you want to know?”
“Just curious.”
“Really? Or you want to participate next time?” Max asked.
“I mean, look at your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Well than you won’t mind me asking her out right?” Lando says coming to get her hand and Max pushed her back.
“Get your hands off my girlfriend.” We stated laughing.
And so, the night at the club continued, full of laughter, jokes, and memories that we would cherish forever in our hearts. After all, that's what made life exciting: the moments shared with those we love.
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Bonus scene!
Yourusername Instagram stories
“We for sure know how to party”
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alocon · 3 months
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A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be - Max Verstappen
written by alocon
Note: Based on the song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be by Jess Benko
Summary: You are a Red Bull Racing driver who decided to make a song over the summer break about your ex... Who just so happens to be a Red Bull Racing driver. Said driver decided to listen to the song, reliving memories from when you were together as the lyrics progressed
Warning: Angst? I guess. Plus some social media at the end x
[The Masterlist] [Part Two Here]
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A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be - MV¹
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Max looked at his phone, reading the post and instantly heading to the link to listen to your new song. He sat back on his bed, listening as the guitar started.
"I never should've called"
[October 2010]
Picking up the phone, you sighed before you dialled the number that he had given you earlier.
“Hello, is this [Name]?” He asked once he picked up the phone.
“Yep. It is indeed,” you responded, hearing a sigh through the screen from the man.
He smiled. “I was hoping you would call.”
"’Cause I knew you would leave me"
[October 2010]
“Racing is the most important part of my life,” he said as you both sat in the coffee shop talking, getting to know one another. “It's always racing over anything. I want to be a Formula One driver one day.”
“I get it, I'm the same.”
"But I didn't think you could do it so easily"
[November 2018]
“No. I can't. Racing over everything, remember? Just like I said when we were 13. This is over.”
“Max you can race and be with me, you know?”
Max turned to you, bitterly laughing. It was obvious that any love he had for you was long gone. “Not when we're going to be driving together.”
“It's not like there's anything in the contract about us not dating. It's never changed how we drive together. Are you seriously going to throw us away for no damn reason?” You questioned, watching as he shrugged before nodding. You stood up. “Fine by me.” It was not fine by you, but you weren't going to let him see that. You walked out of his driver's room. Just like that. 8 years down the drain.
"I never should have held your hand on that cold rainy night"
[November 2010]
“You look nice,” the 13-year-old said, greeting you with a hug. You hugged him back, of course. Your 13th birthday was last week and he had got you some flowers for it, knowing that you loved them. He looked at you as you began to walk. Looking back, you slipped your hand into his, making him smile, cheeks flushing slightly. That wasn't the only time that you held hands that night. You held hands on the run home whilst you darted from shelter to shelter, attempting to avoid the awful weather. 
“You said the weather would be good,” you stated to him through laughs as you got to the bus stop, pausing to take shelter for a moment.
He was also laughing and turned to you. “I thought it was!”
"Cause further along it would cause another fight"
[December 2010]
“It's not my fault that your dad was following us all night!” You were angry at the accusations that your boyfriend was yelling at you.
“He got so mad about it. He wants us to break up because you decided to hold my hand.”
“And is that what you want, Max?”
He sighed, taking a breath to calm himself down. He stepped closer to you, pulling you into a soft hug. “No. No it's not. I'm sorry.”
"Stranger, that's all I see. When I look into your eyes."
[July 2023]
You stood on the top step of the podium, having just won the British Grand Prix. Beside you, in P2, was Verstappen. On the other side, in P3, was Lando. The champagne spraying had already happened and it was now time for a photo. You felt eyes on you.
Turning around, your eyes met Max's. He looked at you with something you couldn't read, but you didn't care. Your eyes gave back a completely blank look, almost as if you didn't know him. You shuffled along for the photo, both drivers on either side of you. You felt Max's hand place against your back. You shuffled out of his grip, swapping places with Lando so he was in the middle. His arm went to where Max's just was but you didn't push him away. You made a 1 with your hand, Lando making a 3 as the three of you posed with your race engineer.
"A Soulmate That Wasn't Meant To Be"
[April 2019] 
“What happened between you two anyway?”
You turned to look at Charles and Seb as the pair eyes you both sat as far away from one another as Charles’ driver room couch would allow. It was an innocent question. He didn't know. 
“I guess we were just soulmates who weren't meant to be,” Max answered, shrugging as he spoke.
You rolled your eyes. ‘Something like that,’ you thought.
"Stranger, who knows all my secrets"
[January 2010]
You gasped. “No way you did that!” You said, looking at Max as he laughed softly. 
“I did.” It took him a few minutes to calm down before he looked at you. “Your turn. What's your biggest secret?”
"Can pull me apart and break my heart"
[February 2019]
Your first time being around Max properly since you both broke up. He treated you like you weren't as important as him. He treated you as if you didn't have more wins than him, acting like he was the better driver, the better person, as if he didn't rip you apart into a bunch of tiny pieces when he out of the blue ended your 8 year relationship. The pair of you had been dating since you were 13 and he threw that away for nothing.
He used the excuse that racing meant he couldn't be with you but that wasn't true at all. You were both driving together for years and it changed nothing. But he went from, one day being excited about you also moving to Red Bull with him, to ending the relationship with no explanation. It made no sense.
"A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be"
[September 2014]
“Do you think soulmates exist?”
It was a question you had been curious to know for ages. You asked him so casually as you sat on his bed, watching a show on the TV on his wall. He looked at you, not even hesitating to answer. “Well if they do, I hope you're mine.”
"I never should've kissed, kissed your hand"
[October 2010]
You met him for the first time. He walked over and introduced himself to you. It was some dumb competition. 2 teams, hand the karting grid in each team. Your team vs his, whichever team scored more karting points got to choose everyone else's outfits the next week. Of course, you had won and, of course, Charles had expertly suggested that you all make them wear fancy dress princess dresses. 
You laughed as he walked over to you. “I wouldn't have to wear this stupid dress if it wasn't for your last lap overtake,” he declared, feigning annoyance before following your laugh, unable to hold it back any longer. 
“Well, for the record, Max. You make a very pretty princess.” You picked his hand up in yours, teasingly placing a kiss on it before breaking out into laughter again at the unimpressed look on his face.
"I am under your control"
[December 2023]
“Let Max Through.”
The three words that drove you insane. Even when you were quicker, even when you were fighting him for championships, it was always you being told to give up the place for him. Even when either of you could easily win, Horner favourited Max. You hated being in Red Bull at the moment. You hated how unfair it was. You hated the way that he was the golden boy and you were nothing. You would have more wins than him if Christian didn't berate you every time you didn't listen and let Max through. But not this time. This was your championship, and noone will take it away from you. 
"I will never understand"
[December 2023]
“We told you to give the place to Max,” you heard Horner say through the radio as you crossed the line. 
“I was quicker, though.”
“I don't care.”
“He's already world champion, does it matter?”
“Yes.”
You really didn't understand why you were nothing to them. 
"I never should have said “I love you”. You never said it back."
[November 2018]
“Seriously, Max. This is so out of the blue. I love you. I thought you loved me.”
He didn't reply, just stared at you with a blank expression. That was when you realised. He didn't love you. Maybe he never did. 
"So why do I still care for you?"
[July 2021]
“What happened?” You asked as you walked up to the pit wall, the red flag having just came out.
“Max and Lewis touched.” You looked to the screen, seeing Max's car in the wall. You felt your heartbeat grow faster. Shit. That looked bad.
“Is he okay?”
“Yes. We're getting him to medical now.”
"Stranger, that's all I see. When I look into your eyes, a soulmate who wasn't meant to be. Stranger, who knows all my secrets, can pull me apart and break my heart. A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be."
[August 2021]
You sat down beside Kimi and Anthonio, who looked at you. “He's being a dick again, I take it?” The Finn asked and you nodded, infuriated. 
“When isn't he being a dick to you. What did he do this time?” Antonio was the next to ask a question.
You shrugged, beginning to explain his major outburst to you, calling you the worst driver he's ever been teammates with, a bitch, saying he was glad he ‘got rid of you when he got the chance’, saying that you're nothing compared to him you'll never be anything. As per either his usual outbursts, Jos was sat watching in the corner.
"I wish I could go back to the day we met and leave you be."
[May 2022]
Those were the words you shouted back at him when, once more, Jos and Christian berated you for not letting him through. He seemed taken aback. You had not shouted back at him like that before. He never realised you could shout that loud and full of hate. 
“Don't say that about him.” Christian's voice boomed as he screamed at you once again.
“Well, if I didn't, maybe I would've been able to be respected by you guys, rather than treated like shit.”
"Sit and look pretty"
[August 2023]
“What?” You looked into the audience at the person who said that. As you went to speak, you heard someone do it before you could. 
“Fuck you.”
Such a simple phrase yet elegantly put by Max as he flipped the questioner off, before shooting you an apologetic look. He felt bad for snapping rather than letting you speak. He just couldn't help defending you. He really didn't hate you, he never could. In fact, he felt quite the opposite for you. He could never let you know that, though
“Being a Formula One driver is tough, even more so for women because we are judged by people like you. I do not just sit there and look pretty. I do my job.”
"Never should've called. Never should've kissed."
A lot of the time, you regretted getting with Max. It was always bound to go badly. Sometimes you wondered if you were really that stupid. Stupid enough to believe it was the right thing to do. That you would work out.
"Never should've said."
[January 2024]
You sighed, looking at the photo of you and Max you found under your drawers in your room. You saw some writing on the back. It must've been there for a while, likely falling out of your drawer after you rearranged it the previous week. You turned it over, recognising Max's writing.
“Diary thing, 
This photo is of me and the love of my life. My dad made me break up with her. I didn't want to but it was either her ass on the line or mine. And I didn't want him to terrorise her. Anyways I miss her, that was all. I never should've said that I wanted to break up with her”
What the fuck?
"Stranger, that's all I see. When I look into your eyes, a soulmate who wasn't meant to be. Stranger, who knows all my secrets. Can pull me apart and break my heart. A soulmate who wasn't meant to be."
The song came to an end and, by it, Max was crying. He opened his phone, finding the post on Instagram, typing out a comment. One that she didn't reply to.
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youruser
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liked by lewishamilton and others
youruser: Surprise, new song out now!! Link in my bio. Thank you lewishamilton for being my guitarist!! (Bonus Pic of Arthur because he took the 8th photo of me!)
tagged: lewishamilton, arthurleclerc
-view all comments-
lewishamilton: Such a beautiful song, thank you for letting me be the guitarist. So so proud of you ❤️ 
youruser: Thank you !! ❤️
georgerussell63: Great song!! Smashed it 👍
youruser: Appreciate it, Mr. Russell
charles_leclerc: Excellent song! Maybe I could be your pianist next time? 😉 
youruser: Absolutely, you're already on my collab list dw 😉  charles_leclerc: Right alongside Yuki and Pierre as your backup singers, I hope? We've all heard their excellent karaoke 🎤  youruser: Obviously!
carlossainz55: Such an emotional song, loved it 😭❤️
youruser: Thank you, Carlos!!
maxverstappen1: Lovely song! I really enjoyed it
landonorris: Right. That's it. You're paying for my therapy.
youruser: You're a driver too. Pay for your own ✋️🙄 oscarpiastri: Can you pay for my therapy tho? youruser: Ofc, send me the bill landonorris: ACTUAL FAVOURITISM???? WHAT THE HELL youruser: 😚😚
yukitsunoda0511: I am officially your biggest fan, I'm obsessed.
youruser: Yuki!! You're an angel 🤍 yukitsuonda0511: So are you! 🤍
danielricciardo: All 3 of us are crying over your song rn. 
youruser: Crying session in the VCARB garage, pull up.
estebanocon: Much better than your drunk singing 😉
youruser: I'll have you know, Mr. Ocon, that my drunk singing is wonderful. estebanocon: No its not. charles_leclerc: No its not. pierregasly: No its not. lance_stroll: No its not. youruser: Screw the lot of you.
pierregasly: She can sing? I didn't know she could do that. (Not well at least, drunk karaoke is always horrific with you)
youruser: 🫵🫵 When I find you.
lance_stroll: Well done, great song.
youruser: Thank you.
fernandoalo_oficial: So proud 👏 
youruser: Thank you !!
zhouguanyu24: Wow 😍
youruser: Thank Youuu omg
valtteribottas: Beautiful song, kiddo 
youruser: Thank you Val!
alex_albon: New favourite song.
youruser: Ahh thank you
logansargeant: I got to hear it early!! Luckiest person ever.
youruser: Logan you're actually one of the nicest person to ever exist. alex_albon: Ah So this is why he's crying. yukitsunoda0511: Lucky :( youruser: Dw Yuki, I'll show you early next time! X
liamlawson30: My girlfriend has been playing this on repeat.
youruser: TELL HER I LOVE HER liamlawson30: Nah, you've stolen enough of the WAGs.
nyckdevries: Excellent song!
youruser: Nyck!!! Miss you 💛
mickschumacher: Launch Party soon??? This is actually heaven in a song.
youruser: Thank you. Launch Party soon, you're so invited
nicholaslatifi: Great song!
youruser: THE GOAT HAS ARRIVED, THIS IS NOT A DRILL 📣📣 Thank you Nicky
sebastianvettel: So so proud of you, kiddo.
youruser: Thanks, I miss you Seb x sebastianvettel: I miss you too. Meet up soon? 
kimimatiasraikkonen: So many words for the song and every one of them is positive 
youruser: Kimi 😭❤️
nicorosberg: Wow!! Well done you two 🤩
youruser: Thank you, Brit (Kill Lew please this comment was his idea) lewishamilton: Thanks, Britney nicorosberg: Never mind. You're both annoying 😂
jensonbutton: Beautiful, beautiful song
youruser: Miss you Jens!
AlphaTauri: Wow??? 🤩
youruser: THANK YOUUUU
schecoperez: Is this about who I think it is?? Lovely song x
youruser: It might be, depends who you think it is about, thank you. X
formula1: Song of the year???
youruser: THANK YOU ADMIN X
christianhorner: It's not bad. 👍
user: "not bad"? I'd like to see you do better. *liked by youruser*
mercedesamgf1: THAT'S OUR GRID GIRL <3
youruser: Ahh 😭 love u admin mercedesamgf1: love u too
user: notice how other teams are commenting but not redbull??? The team she fucking drives for?
user2: They don't respect her as a driver or person, it sucks :(
-The End-
-Word Count: 2,601 (incl. social media. 2,061 without)-
Hi All, Hope you enjoyed! Have a nice day. Got nothing against Max btw, just fancied an angsty story btw. Thinking of another angsty Red Bull story soon Alocon
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visualvocabulary33 · 1 month
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redskull199987 · 1 year
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I need more max verstappen x male reader from you pls love your work 👍👍
Champion & Captain
Max Verstappen x male!reader Request
Word count:0.7k
Warnings:none, it's fluff
Summary: Max had been away for three weeks. As he finally returns from his trip for Red Bull, you're more than exited
Masterlist
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To say that I was exited was an Understatement. Max had been away for three weeks now, flying around the world, doing stuff and Promo for Red Bull, while the Winter break.
I was no question, that I was exited to see him again.
I was walking up and down in the hallway of our apartment. I had been waiting for his arrival for the whole day, but half an hour ago, Max had texted me, that he arrived on the airport and was now in a cab on his way home.
My thoughts were racing, as I heard how the dorr to our apartment opened. Keys were thrown away and Shoes were discarded and only seconds later, I saw Max standing in the doorway. He looked rushed and his breathing was going heavy. But the moment our eyes met, a grin appeard on his face.
"I missed you.", He mumbled.
I couldn't help but laugh. I was so happy to see him again, as I finally walked over to him. 
"I missed you too, my Champion", I said as I wrapped my arms around his middle.
Max giggled at my nickname for him and I felt how he softly kissed my neck. We parted a little , so that he could plant a kiss on my cheek, before pecking my lips.
I just looked at him for a second. HIs blue eyes that observed me so intently, his strong arms that were wrapped around me, the disshelved hair and his light stuble.
He was perfect in my eyes. There is nothing more that I would want in a Partner. He was all, I would ever need.
"Let's put your stuff away", I finally muttered and we were actually able to part, so that we could grab Max'suitcases. 
"How was your trip by the way?", I asked, as we sorted through his clothes in the bedroom.
"I mean", Max eexplained,"It was fun i guess, but it would've been much better if you were with me."
I smiled at his words:"Next time, I promise."
"yeah sure, Captain.", Max laughed.
"Oh come on!", I complained and threw a T-Shirt at him. He had invented that nickname, since I started coaching a little athletics group here in Monaco. Which was exactly the reason, why I didn't join him on his trip. The kids took part in a tournament and what kind of Coach would I be if I left them behind?
"Did your Team at least win?", Max asked as he helped me stand up again.
"No", I mumbled and let myself fall down on the king sized bed,"But we got second place."
"You'll win next year.", Max encouraged me, as he let himslef fall down next to me.
"Oh I'm not upset", I smiled, as I turned around to face him,"the Kids had fun adn that's all that matters."
"You're right", Max agreed, as he inched closer. He raised his hand to softly caress my face.
"I truly missed you, Captain."He mumbled.
"I missed you too, Champion", I gtinned and leaned down to kiss him. For a second, I really felt at home, but then my eyes widened,as I felt how Max pulled me on top of him.
"What are you doing?!", I yelped, but before he could answer, my heaad hit his chest and I was fully lying on top of Max. I saw how he pulled a blanket over us.
"Let's just rest for a while", He explained with a smile on his lips.
"It's the middle of the day,.", I chuckled.
But Max was already closing his eyes, as he pulled me closer to him:"I don't care. I want to spend time with you"
"Yeah, you're probably right.",I agreed and laid my head down on his chest. I felt how Max breath grew calmer by the second.
"Max?", I mumbled before I closed my eyes too.
"Mmh?", he hummed.
"I love you.", I said softly and wrapped my arms around him a little tighter.
"I love you too, Captain.", Max mumbled before the two of us finally drifted of to sleep. 
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pucksandpower · 4 days
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Crazy Cravings
Max Verstappen x wife!Reader
Summary: pregnancy cravings can make you (and your husband) do crazy things … neither of you particularly minds
Warnings: 18+ content and pregnancy
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You sit in the Red Bull Racing garage, feeling the warm Spanish sun on your face through the open door. The roar of engines and whirring of power tools surrounds you as the mechanics prepare for the race.
Your eyes are drawn to the iconic blue and silver cans scattered around the garage. Those tantalizing cans of Red Bull that everyone else seems to be drinking so casually.
Everyone except you and Max, that is.
You rub your rounded belly, feeling your precious cargo kick and squirm inside you. At six months pregnant, your cravings have been … intense, to say the least. But none more powerful than your longing for the crisp, fizzy taste of Red Bull.
The caffeine is off limits, of course. You would never dream of jeopardizing your baby’s health. But oh, how you crave that sweet, energizing flavor that used to be such a routine part of your life.
Max emerges from the back room, his bright grey eyes instantly finding you. He strides over, that effortless confidence and raw athleticism making your heart flutter, even after all these years. His gaze drifts to the Red Bull can in a mechanic’s hand and a grimace crosses his face.
“Liefje, are you alright?” He murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I know how much those are torturing you lately.”
You force a smile, not wanting him to worry. “I’m fine, Maxie. Just … ignoring the siren call of carbonated temptation.”
His thumb strokes your cheek as he studies you, clearly not convinced. Max has been so incredibly supportive during this pregnancy, abstaining from Red Bull himself in solidarity. Cutting out his biggest vice, just so you don’t have to be tormented by the sight and scent of it everywhere.
“We should get you out of here,” he says, looping an arm around your waist to help leverage your bulk out of the chair. “The smells can’t be helping those crazy cravings.”
You open your mouth to protest, not wanting to pull him away from his work, but a fresh wave of dizzying desire hits you as a mechanic cracks open another can. The fizzing hiss and unmistakable scent make your mouth water uncontrollably.
“Max ...” you whisper, feeling your throat tighten with barely restrained craving and hormonal tears prickling your eyes.
He follows your yearning gaze to the Red Bull can and understanding dawns. “Oh, liefje ...” Scooping you into his arms, he strides from the garage, shooting an apologetic look at his crew.
Once outside in the fresh air, you bury your face against Max’s shoulder, inhaling his familiar, comforting cologne as he carries you to the motorhome. He eases you onto the couch, brushing kisses along your forehead and temple.
“I’m so sorry, schatje,” he murmurs, anguish lining his handsome features. “I hate seeing you suffer like this. If there was any way I could make the cravings stop ...”
You catch his hand, lacing your fingers through his calloused ones. “Max, you know I would never actually ask you to give up Red Bull, right?”
He shakes his head fiercely. “Not being able to have it for nine months is nothing compared to your sacrifice, carrying our baby. I don’t deserve you.”
Pulling him down beside you, you cup the chiseled line of his jaw, making him meet your gaze. “I happen to think you deserve the very best, Mr. Verstappen. And right now, the very best for both of us would be ...” Your voice cracks with fresh longing. “A damn Red Bull.”
Max’s eyes blaze with sudden determination, that iron willpower that has made him a champion coming to life. “Then that’s what I’ll get you. If those tossers at Red Bull Company won’t make a safe, caffeine-free version for pregnant women, I’ll personally make them regret it.”
You laugh shakily. “Max, you can’t just bully a corporation into creating a new product line for one person’s weird craving!”
“You’re not just one person,” he growls, tangling his fingers in your hair and bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You’re my everything. And our baby deserves for its mother to be happy and have her cravings satisfied.”
Pressing a fierce kiss to your lips, he adds, “I’m calling them right now. And then straight to the CEO, if I have to. I’ll get you that Red Bull if it’s the last thing I do.”
True to his word, the indomitable Max Verstappen spends the next several days working every possible connection and calling in every favor. You catch bits of conversations, his clipped tones making it clear just how serious he is about this bizarre quest.
“No, I don’t care if it’s not ‘cost-effective’. This is for my very pregnant wife ...”
“She’s risking her health to grow an entire person! The least your company can do is make a freaking caffeine-free energy drink ...”
The crew quickly learns not to open any Red Bull around you, lest they face the wrath of an overprotective Max. Which is slightly embarrassing … but also incredibly sweet.
Your hormones most definitely approve.
Finally, there’s a break in the stalemate. Helmut Marko himself shows up at the motor home, those bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows furrowed.
“Max, this is ridiculous. They will not reconfigure an entire product line just because Y/N is having a little … craving.”
You brace yourself for the explosion, but Max just levels Helmut with that intense stare. “If you could experience these cravings yourself, you would be singing a different tune. Y/N is sacrificing everything to have our baby. The least Red Bull can do is give her a safe option to have the flavor she misses so much.”
Helmut’s expression softens slightly at the obvious devotion in Max’s voice. “You know that corporate will never go for it. Not for just one person ...”
“Then make it for all the other pregnant women dealing with the same issues,” Max returns, unruffled. “Or is a company that plasters ‘Gives You Wings’ on every can really too cowardly to follow through on empowering people?”
You suck in a shocked breath at his daring play. But the flicker of anger and resigned capitulation in Helmut’s eyes shows that it worked.
“Fine, you little shit,” the older man growls. “I’ll talk to product development. But I’m not making any promises!”
Except somehow … Max’s sheer bullheaded tenacity eventually batters through all the corporate resistance and red tape. Three weeks later, an unmistakable bright blue can appears on the counter, the iconic Red Bull logo stamped across it.
“What’s this?” You ask in confusion.
Max slides an arm around your waist, beaming proudly. “Open it and see.”
You crack the seal, sniffing cautiously … and almost melt at the nostalgic, beloved scent of Red Bull. But just as you start to panic about caffeine, you notice the slightly different flavor.
“Max, is this ...”
He nods, grinning. “Zero caffeine but all the taste you’ve been craving. No more tears over those damn energy drink cans, okay?”
Throwing your arms around him, you yank his head down to capture his mouth in a grateful kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how incredible you are?”
“Once or twice,” he jokes, then sobers, cupping your belly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you and our baby happy.”
“You’re giving me everything I ever wanted and more.” You take a long pull of the perfectly flavored liquid, sighing in blissful satisfaction. “We hit the jackpot with you, Max Verstappen.”
He kisses you again, reveling in your obvious enjoyment. “The only jackpot I need is right here.”
***
Your baby bump has popped out to truly impressive proportions now at eight months along. What started as an innocent craving for Red Bull has escalated into an all-out physiological war.
Nothing seems to satisfy you for long — you’re a walking bundle of hormones and insatiable desires.
From the plush solitude of the Red Bull hospitality suite, you try not to gaze wistfully toward the Ferrari encampment. But you can’t resist fixating on the tantalizing cones of rich gelato constantly streaming from their hospitality tent.
Watching a couple of Ferrari mechanics stroll by, licking at scoops of pistachio and stracciatella, is enough to kickstart a powerful new yearning. Your mouth waters shamelessly as they pass, the creamy dessert leaving you weak in the knees. Before you can overthink it, you’re shuffling toward the entrance, one hand cradling your belly.
“Scusi,” you call out hesitantly as you peek inside. “Mi dispiace … is it possible to get some gelato?”
You half expect to be waved away — it’s well known that the Ferrari team is notoriously insular and protective of their spoils. But the cheerful greeting you receive is instantaneous and overwhelming.
“Madonna mia! Look at this beautiful piccina!”
Suddenly you’re engulfed by a whirlwind of chattering Italian voices, greeted by smiling faces from the team of elderly signoras who comprise the Ferrari hospitality staff. Weathered hands pat your belly and cheeks, clucking sympathetically at your swollen state.
“You poor bambina, absolutely enorme! Of course we’ll get you some gelato to refresh you. And biscotti too! You need to keep up your energy, si?”
You’re ushered toward a plush sofa, various grandmotherly types fussing over you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing. It’s … surprisingly wonderful. They clearly adore babies and pregnant women. You get the sense that indulging a mother-to-be is hardwired into their very beings.
A tray of gelato cups appears, the rainbow of flavors almost dazzling in their variety — chocolate, pistachio, prickly pear, lemon, stracciatella. Before you can reach for one, it’s plucked from your grasp.
“No no no! Leave it to Nonna Maria.” A stout signora with a green paisley dress and frosted silver curls shakes her head sternly. “I’ll start you with the lemon to whet your appetite. Then a nice creamy stracciatella as a proper treat for the bambino.”
The tangy flavor of the lemon gelato hits your craving exquisitely. As soon as you’ve polished off that cup, Nonna Maria presents another brimming with the creamy chocolate chip perfection of stracciatella. You moan in appreciation, unbothered by the chorus of approving noises from your doting new entourage.
Before you know it, you’ve been plied with cups of hazelnut, strawberry, and caramel flavors as well. These hospitable Italian ladies simply won’t be deterred from pampering a future mamma. As you scrape the last smears of gelato from a ramekin, a new grandmother settles on the sofa beside you.
“Now ... tell Nonna Gina what this little maschietto or bambina has been craving, eh?” She pats your belly affectionately. “We have chefs who can whip up anything your heart desires!”
Is it a pregnancy thing, this sudden wave of tears that blurs your vision? Or just being so insanely touched by the kindness and maternal care of these lovely strangers? You blink rapidly, swallowing hard.
“Honestly … gelato has been my biggest craving these past couple days. I don’t know if I can eat another bite.”
A chorus of disapproving gasps and tuts rises from the assembled grandmothers. “Bah! This pregnancy has ruined your appetite, piccina,” one crows, waving a hand dismissively. “We’ll soon get it back to rights, don’t you worry.”
For the next hour, you’re lavished with attention, fussed over and coddled like the most precious jewel. Cold drinks and chilled towels appear to keep you comfortable as the nonnas take turns sitting with you, petting your belly and swapping outrageous birth stories.
Their colorful Italian voices swell and ebb as they bicker over whose recipe for pasta al ragu is most authentic, who has the most grandchildren, and whose first-born grandson is most handsome.
It’s chaos and noise and overwhelming affection … and you’ve never felt so utterly content.
As the afternoon light slants golden through the awning, a familiar figure appears in the entrance, haloed by the fiery rays.
“Liefje? I’ve been looking everywhere ...” Max’s disbelieving gaze sweeps over the scene in front of him — you, surrounded by a veritable coven of grandmotherly Italians who seem entirely absorbed with you. “What in the world ...”
A chubby signora with a bright orange shawl wrapped around her ample form hops up, beaming widely. “Ahh! We have been absolutely spoiling your beautiful wife, of course. Did you know she had a craving for gelato? Well, no problem for us — we have taken her like one of our own bambinas!”
The others cluck and murmur in outraged agreement at his shocked expression.
“We absolutely will not let a piccina in such a state go hungry or uncomfortable! Now you sit down so we can get you a plate of some proper food too!”
Max gapes at you, utterly nonplussed as you grin back at him with unabashed glee, utterly stuffed with Italian desserts and reveling in the indulgent babying. You pat the space beside you invitingly.
“You’ve got to try Nonna Gina’s tiramisu, Maxie. It’ll knock your socks off.”
He settles beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and still looking rather dazed. But the instant the first warm smile and pat lands on his arm or knee, Max’s expression melts. This team of fussing Italian grandmothers has clearly adopted you both as their own.
Nonna Maria reappears, shoving a plate stacked with crispy arancini, indulgent risotto alla Milanese, and a creamy slice of tiramisu into your husband’s hands. “Eat up! You need to keep your strength up too, caring for this sweet cosa bella.” She plants bristly kisses on both your cheeks before scurrying off again.
Max watches her go, then turns to you with a bemused chuckle, squeezing you close. “Well, schatje. I have to hand it to you — at least your pregnancy cravings bring you to some … interesting places.”
You hum in agreement, perfectly content as you snuggle against his side. “Can you really think of a better place for me to nest?” You grin as another nonna appears to pat his cheek, welcoming him into the chaotic fold. “I think I may have just found my second family.”
He tilts your chin up, eyes sparkling with warmth. “Anything that makes you happy and keeps our baby healthy.”
As he kisses you tenderly, surrounded by clucking encouragement and rapturous croons of “bello, bellisimo” from your new Italian grandmothers, you know you’ve never felt so blissfully cherished.
You and Max make your way slowly back to the Red Bull motorhome, stuffed to the gills with gelato and trailed by a gaggle of besotted well-wishers calling out farewells and advice.
“I still can’t believe you managed to befriend the entirety of Ferrari hospitality,” Max laughs, helping ease you onto the couch in his driver’s room. He nudges your belly playfully. “This little one is shaping up to be quite the international charmer!”
“Says the man who single-handedly compelled Red Bull to create an entirely new product line,” you point out, patting your swollen middle contentedly. “I have a feeling this baby is going to be the most spoiled child on earth.”
Max settled beside you, gathering you close with a tender smile. “Can you blame all our people for wanting to give the world to you two?” His thumb traced your jawline reverently. “You’re carrying a little miracle, liefje.”
Your breath catches, as it so often did when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his entire universe. With so much pure adoration and love shining in those grey eyes.
“Our miracle,” you correct softly, cradling his calloused hand over your belly. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Not just supporting me … but giving me everything I could ever dream of.”
He opens his mouth like he wanted to protest, but you press on, needing him to understand how treasured he makes you feel.
“You don’t stop until I’m happy. Even when I get these raging, random cravings that probably seem crazy, you move heaven and earth to give me whatever I need. Most people would never ...”
“Neither of us is most people,” Max interrupts fiercely. He presses a searing kiss to your lips, then the swell of your abdomen. “You and our little one are my entire world. I’ll spend every day showing you how much I love you both, how grateful I am to have you in my life.”
Hormones raging, you pull his mouth back to yours, savoring the taste and feel of him surrounding you. When you finally part, you rest your forehead against his.
“In that case, you better rest up for tonight,” you tease. “I have a feeling that someone’s going to get a craving for sardines and waffles right around midnight.”
***
At nine months pregnant, you feel like a blissfully beached whale.
Your belly protrudes so massively that you can barely see your feet anymore. Simple tasks like tying your shoes or rolling over in bed have become awkward geometric obstacles. Max has to help you up from every chair or couch, his strong arms levering your frame into a vertical position.
Lingering in the paddock is no longer an option either. You’ve been gently but firmly ordered back home to Monaco to prepare for the baby’s arrival.
Thank goodness your nesting instincts are going full tilt — otherwise you might go stir crazy waiting for this little one to make their grand debut. You’ve rearranged and re-organized the nursery a dozen times, washed and rewashed all the tiny onesies and miniature accessories, and baked enough lactation cookies to feed an army of nursing mothers.
Really, there’s only one craving occupying your mind now …
The thump of shoes in the hall makes you look up eagerly. Max appears in the doorway of the sunlit nursery, loose waves of brown hair framing his face. The plain white tee stretches enticingly across his chest and shoulders, making your mouth water for an entirely different reason than food.
“Hey schatje,” he greets, eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes in your flushed cheeks. A knowing smirk tugs at one side of his mouth. “Were you just ... thinking about me?”
You shake your head adamantly, wincing as the motion makes your whole body ache in protest. “Maybe just a little. This particular craving is getting out of control.”
Crossing to you in two strides, Max cups your jaw and brings your lips crashing together in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps demanding and possessive into your mouth, making you whimper faintly. That intoxicating masculine scent of fresh sweat, motor oil, and sandalwood surrounds you in an alluring cloud.
After all these years, just the taste and smell of your husband is enough to drench you in molten wanting. Baby or no baby, Max Verstappen is still the sexiest goddamn thing on two legs.
“Mmm, I know exactly what you need,” he rumbles against your neck, nipping a tingling path along your sensitive skin. “Luckily for you, I’ve got a free schedule all afternoon to help take care of this craving ...”
He scoops you into his arms effortlessly, cradling your heavy weight against his chest to carry you to the bedroom. You twine your arms shamelessly around his neck, luxuriating in the hard strength of his body against yours.
“Aren’t you worried about ... squashing the baby?”
“Not at all,” he deposits you carefully on the bed. Those bright grey eyes darken with blazing lust. “I’m going to take such good care of you and our little one.”
His hands and mouth seem to be everywhere at once — caressing, nibbling, and stroking every sensitive inch he can lavish adoring attention on. You keen softly when he dips his tongue into your navel, rubbing reverent circles over the tight swell of your belly.
“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Max murmurs, lips brushing the crease where your torso and bump meet. “So ripe and round and radiant with our child. My beautiful, strong girl ...”
All you can do is lie there gasping, overwhelmed in the best possible way. He strips you methodically, leaving a trail of scorching, openmouthed kisses over every newly exposed inch.
“My sexy little pregnant wife,” he husks, tongue dragging up the slick crease at the apex of your thighs. “Can’t resist this craving can you, liefje?”
His fingers plunge inside you, curling expertly as his mouth closes over your throbbing bud. You throw your head back shamelessly, mindless with pleasure as Max devours you.
So good, so unbearably good …
He ravishes you thoroughly, sending gushing waves of release crashing through your body over and over again until you’re gasping and quivering. Atoms of blissful satisfaction hum in your bloodstream as you float back into sweet oblivion.
An insistent nudge against your belly slowly rouses you. Max looms over you, hair deliciously rumpled and eyes glittering wickedly. “Did I satisfy that craving sufficiently? Or should I keep going?”
Your mouth curves in a greedy smile, hands gliding over his flexing shoulders and chest. “Again, please ...”
It had long since become a running gag around the paddock and team — before you were advised to stop flying. When you couldn’t be located, someone would joke that you must be off ravaging your utterly besotten husband yet again.
Max took the ribbing with surprising grace, grinning unrepentantly whenever his shirt collar revealed another blossom of lovebites discoloring the skin of his throat.
You really didn’t care about the teasing. You’re indulging an entirely healthy and normal craving — just a wife thoroughly appreciating her man.
“Can you believe people used to call this a punishment?” You giggle breathlessly one afternoon.
Max nips a stinging path along the soft skin of your inner thighs, tracing tantalizingly close to your heated center. He laves his tongue soothingly over the reddened marks, leering up at you from between your parted legs.
“Let them call it whatever they want. I’m just taking advantage of your hormones making you insatiable for me.”
“Mmm, well I can’t seem to resist your obscenely perfect body either,” you admit with a lazy stretch. “Maybe we really are being punished.”
One dark brow wings up eloquently as Max drags his eyes over you in a deliberately insolent perusal. Taking your leg in hand, he licks an achingly slow, filthy stripe up the crease where thigh meets hip.
You choke on a whimper, whole body jolting as he sucks a blossom of wet kisses into the satiny expanse of your inner thigh. Those bright grey eyes hold yours in wicked challenge as his clever tongue massages and swirls over your sensitized flesh.
“This certainly doesn’t seem like punishment to me,” he husks darkly. “Does it feel like punishment when I do this ...” His mouth moves higher. “Or this ...”
By the time he finishes torturing you into a quivering, needy wreck, you’re more than ready to beg.
“Please, Max!” You sob, bucking helplessly against the maddening sensations. “I need you, oh god I need you so bad ...”
He settles heavily over you, nuzzling your hair aside to trail searing kisses along your damp throat. “Then you shall have me. My needy wife can have whatever she craves ...”
It’s midway through one such shattering round of lovemaking that Max’s phone begins to ring shrilly. You try to disentangle, burning embarrassment tinting your cheeks, but he simply growls and clutches you tighter.
“Leave it!” He bites out, surging forward to recapture your mouth in a bruising clash of teeth and tongue between thrusts. “I’m busy ... satisfying … my wife ...”
After, as you lie tangled in a sweaty heap of satiation, you can’t resist asking with a wry smile, “Was that another craving I just demanded you satisfy?”
Max props himself up on one elbow, thumb stroking idly along your abdomen as his piercing gaze roams over your flushed, disheveled form.
“Whatever my wife needs,” he responds huskily. Those burning eyes promise infinite carnal delights to come as they caress your body. “I’ll always crave giving her everything she desires.”
He stretches beside you, a blissful smile curving his lips as you snuggle up against his side to exchange lazy kisses.
You’ve got a sneaking suspicion this is one craving that might outlast the pregnancy ...
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Under the Opulence - Max Verstappen
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⋗ Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader
⋗ Summary - Your family isn't kind to you, and in fact, they all think Max would be a much better fit for your sister. Max likes to differ.
⋗ Word count - 3.4k words, hurt/comfort
⋗ Masterlist - This has been finished for some time, but I've only gotten around to given it a name Feedback and reblogs are appreciated
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The grandeur of your family's foyer, adorned with polished marble and intricate chandeliers, set the stage for Max’s introduction to the world you came from. As you and Max entered, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated through the opulent space, the air charged with excitement and anxiety, but most noticeably on your side, dread. 
Gabriella, your sister, emerged from an adjoining room, her presence demanding attention. With her radiant smile and effortless poise, she seemed to glide into the scene like a queen entering her court. She was the star of the family, the golden child who effortlessly commanded attention and adoration. With her striking looks and sharp intellect, she had always been the one to effortlessly charm anyone who crossed her path. Even your past romantic interests had succumbed to her allure, leaving you with the bitter taste of never good enough.
"It's okay, we're sisters," Gabriella would nonchalantly reassure you. "They weren't good enough for you if they wanted me more."
Her eyes, adorned with an air of confidence, locked onto Max, acknowledging his presence with a subtle yet unmistakable hint of curiosity. Bluntly scrutinising Max, she drank him up with her eyes, then she battered her long eyelashes a few times before slotting into the role of the perfect twin sister.
Max, a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter, met Gabriella's gaze with a polite smile. That was all your sister needed before stepping forward, presenting her hand gracefully, a subtle gesture that belied the underlying power dynamics at play. Max, being the gentleman he was, reciprocated the greeting with a warm shake. However, as the customary exchange lingered for a moment longer than expected, you felt an unspoken tension building. 
“Gabriella, but you – my dear – can call me Gabbie.” Her voice sang in the foyer, bouncing so wonderfully off the walls. You wanted nothing more than to leave. Their hands were still intertwined. 
Instinctively, you began to withdraw your hand from his left, realising that you were caught in an awkward silence. Gabriella's grip on Max's hand tightened imperceptibly, and you hesitated for a split second, torn between asserting yourself and avoiding a confrontation. Finally, you reluctantly released Max's hand, a subtle concession that felt like surrender.
However, your parents made their grand entrance, drawn by the commotion in the foyer.
Gabriella finally let go of Max. She stepped back, allowing a brief respite from the charged exchange. 
Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, approached with a warm smile. "Oh, there you all are! We were starting to wonder when you'd make it to the heart of the festivities."
As she spoke, her eyes lingered on Gabriella and Max, a subtle but knowing gleam in her eyes. It was as if she sensed the unspoken currents beneath the surface. Your father, a more reserved figure, stood beside her, observing the scene with a discerning gaze.
"Mom, Dad, this is Max," you introduced, trying to steer the conversation away from the palpable tension that lingered.
With an air of practised nonchalance, Gabriella returned her attention to Max, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well, Max, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she purred, her words leaving an ambiguous trail of intentions.
She tried to grasp his hand once again, but instead, he started helping you out of your coat to keep his hands busy.
Max, still wanting to leave a good impression, responded with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Gabriella. Your sister here has spoken highly of you too," he said, casting a glance in your direction, before he extended a polite hand toward your parents, exchanging pleasantries as he tried to steer the conversation towards the two newcomers in the foyer. 
Gabriella subtly positioned herself beside him, a silent claim reaffirmed. The atmosphere remained charged, your parents seemingly ignorant of the intricate dynamics playing out before them. The dreadful feeling returned to you as your mom made eye contact with you once more. You averted your eyes.
Gabriella, seizing the opportunity, looped her arm through Max's, as if marking her territory. "Max, let me give you a tour of this magnificent place. There are so many things you haven't seen yet," she exclaimed, her tone holding a mixture of innocence and mischief.
Your heart sank as you watched them disappear into the lavish corridors of your family home.
“Let them go, honey. I’m sure he will be quite interested in our family’s history.” Your mother commented, foregoing the formality of any other type of recognition or greeting to you as she and your dad disappeared after Gabriella and Max.
Leaving you on your own in the opulent foyer, you wished to leave once more.
Determined to regain some semblance of composure, you wandered into the adjacent parlour, a room adorned with plush furniture and rich tapestries. The soft glow of antique lamps cast a warm ambience, but even the comforting setting couldn't dispel the growing unease. You settled into a chair, the plush upholstery offering little solace for the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. The room seemed to close in on you as you anxiously waited for Max and Gabriella to return. The dreadful feeling intensified with every passing moment, and your mind raced with unsettling thoughts.
Finally, the door swung open, and they entered the parlour. Gabriella's laughter echoed through the room. Max wore a polite smile, seemingly having enjoyed the tour, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriella was orchestrating an elaborate performance.
"This place is quite… something," Max said, casting a glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance or acknowledgement. You tried to smile at him. Gabriella, however, continued to dominate the spotlight.
"We have quite the family history," she replied with a sly smile, her eyes flickering between Max and you. "It's a shame you won't be able to hear all the juicy details."
You forced another smile in response, but the unease gnawed at you. As they settled into the room, Gabriella strategically took the seat next to Max, her gestures and expressions aimed at enchanting him right before your eyes.
The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a dance of words that excluded you from its rhythm. You felt like a mere observer in your own home, watching as Gabriella captivated Max with tales of the family's past, her laughter ringing like an enchanting melody.
Your attempts to engage in the conversation were met with fleeting glances as if your presence were an afterthought. Gabriella was ever so quick to recapture Max’s attention, despite your valiant efforts to seek a way into the discussion.
Desperate for a reprieve, you finally excused yourself under the pretence of attending to something in the kitchen. As you escaped the room, the weight of the evening bore down on you, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this family gathering had become a stage for a performance in which you had no choice but to play a reluctant supporting role.
In the kitchen, you busied yourself with trivial tasks, the rhythmic clinking of dishes providing a brief respite from the orchestrated drama in the parlour. The tension that had followed you from the foyer to the parlour lingered like an unwelcome guest, and you desperately sought a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.
As you absentmindedly stacked plates from the dishwasher, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing expression. It was as if she could sense the turbulence beneath the composed facade you were desperately trying to maintain.
"Oh, dear, are you alright?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of concern.
You forced a smile, attempting to deflect the obvious discomfort. "I'm fine, just needed a moment away from the chatter in there."
Your mother's eyes softened, but there was a glint of curiosity. "Well, I must say, Gabriella and Max make quite the pair. They look so good together, don't you think?"
The question hung in the air, a subtle prod at the heart of the matter. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you processed the implications of your mother's words. It was a commentary that cut through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.
"Oh, Mom, they're just chatting. It doesn't mean anything," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.
Your mother, however, seemed undeterred. "I don't know, dear. They do seem to have a certain chemistry, don't you think? They'd make a handsome couple."
The weight of her words settled on you like an anvil, and you struggled to find a suitable response. The kitchen, for a brief moment, had been a sanctuary, but now felt like a confessional where you were forced to confront the complexities of your feelings.
"I...I don't know, Mom. It's just an introduction," you stammered, your attempts to maintain composure faltering.
Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then she sighed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, sometimes we find unexpected connections in the most peculiar places. And if they happen to find something special tonight, well, we should be happy for them, shouldn't we?"
You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness.
“It’s such a shame his looks just aren’t quite there, but he certainly has other features to make up for it. Wouldn’t you say so as well? Yes, a shame, but Gabriella has always been so kind-hearted. I’m sure she doesn’t mind either.” Your mother continued, before finally smiling at you. 
Her message was loud and clear, as she had expressed her approval of Max as a suitable match for Gabriella. 
Your mother wanted you to break up with Max and hand him over.
It was as though Max was a commodity to be exchanged, a possession for your sister to play with until she grew tired and moved on. It made you feel sick to the stomach. 
“Dinner is all ready, your father just put down the roast on the table.”
You followed your mother into the dining room, the scent of the roast filling the air. The grand table, adorned with fine china and polished silverware, became the stage for the next act in this familial drama.
As you took your seat, Max seated next to you, your parents strategically positioned Gabriella opposite Max. The tension in the room was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that every word and gesture would be scrutinised.
"So, Max," your mother began, her eyes flickering between Max and Gabriella, "how did you find our home? Quite exquisite, isn't it?"
Max, thankfully pr-trained, nodded appreciatively. "It's a stunning place with so much history."
Gabriella's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and you braced yourself for what would come next. Your mother, however, wasn't finished.
"And speaking of history," she continued, casting a pointed look at Gabriella, "our family has quite a rich one. Gabriella, why don't you share some of the highlights? Max might find it fascinating."
“It’s alright, I think I heard enough earlier,” Max told your mom, “I would much rather hear childhood stories about her.” He turned his head, making himself able to look into your eyes, and you felt the dread spread. Despite the way he looked at you, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing your parents would not deliver what Max was expecting to be told about.
Max's genuine interest in hearing about your childhood seemed to momentarily disrupt the carefully choreographed performance. Your mother, however, skilfully manoeuvred to maintain the narrative she had meticulously constructed.
"Oh, Max, you're sweet," your mother said, offering a polite smile, "but Gabriella's achievements are the true highlights. She's always been the shining star of our family."
Your sister, seizing the opportunity, began to regale Max with tales of her academic triumphs, artistic pursuits, and social accomplishments. As she spoke, you felt the distance between you and Max widen, a chasm fuelled by your parents' insistence on casting Gabriella as the focal point of the conversation.
Max, sensing the discomfort, tried to redirect the conversation toward a more inclusive narrative. "I'm sure there are some other stories you could tell, perhaps some that aren’t about Gabriell-?"
“Please Max, do call me Gabby.” Gabriella interrupted Max.
Your mother exchanged a knowing glance with your father before responding, "Oh, there are plenty of stories, but I think Gabriella's achievements are what make our family truly special. Don't you agree, Max?"
Max hesitated for a moment, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. However, not wanting to create a scene, he nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, I guess Gabriella is quite accomplished."
Gabriella shot you a coy smile, her triumph was evident in the subtle control she exerted over the narrative. As the conversation continued to revolve around her, Max's attempts to steer it in a different direction seemed to hit an invisible wall.
Your parents, seemingly oblivious to Max's growing discomfort, continued to extol Gabriella's virtues. The room buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the murmur of praise, all while you sat there, a silent observer of your own family dinner.
As dessert was served, Max couldn't hide the subtle tenseness in his shoulders. He glanced at you, a mix of empathy and frustration in his eyes. Despite the challenging circumstances, you appreciated his efforts to bridge the gap.
When Max tried to ask about your childhood again, your mother skilfully redirected the conversation. "Oh, Max, we can talk about that another time. Let's focus on the present moment and enjoy the evening."
Your sister, seizing every opportunity to keep the spotlight, interjected, "You know, Max, I've always been curious about your interests and aspirations. Tell us more about yourself."
The shift in attention to Max was noticeable, but it wasn't the genuine interest he had hoped for. Instead, it felt like another tactic to steer the conversation away from you. Max, his patience waning, briefly shared short anecdotes about his work, nothing he hadn’t already told to the media. However, his eyes kept returning to you, his fingers intertwined with you. As though you were oblivious to the way your sister's feet – under the table – were trying to urge Max to look at her. 
The night wore on, and Max's frustration continued to build, a silent storm brewing within him. The genuine smile he had worn upon arrival had now transformed into a tight-lipped expression, betraying his growing discontent.
Your dad had taken it upon himself to serve a glass of whiskey to him and Max, while your mother brought forth an array of finger foods and other light and savoury snacks. Your family settled around the nice fireplace in the big sitting room, it’s even more extravagant and opulent than the smaller parlour room you had tried to take refuge in earlier in the day. 
When your sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Max, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "You know, Max, we're so thrilled to have you here. It's not often we get such distinguished company." 
Max, no longer willing to play along, shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. "Thank you for having me. It's been... quite an experience," he replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.
Your father, still under the illusion that the evening had gone splendidly, raised his glass. "A toast! To family and new beginnings."
Max's frustration reached its peak as his eyes locked on your dad’s raised glass. Max abruptly stood up, the sound of him slamming his glass down echoing in the sudden silence. The tension in the room was palpable as he looked directly at your parents.
"I appreciate your hospitality, but I can't ignore the blatant disregard for your own daughter," he said, his voice measured but firm. "I came here hoping to learn more about her, but it seems the spotlight is reserved for someone else."
Gabriella's eyes widened in feigned innocence, a practised mask that Max wasn't buying. Your parents exchanged uneasy glances, finally sensing the budding cracks in their carefully constructed facade.
"I won't be a part of a charade that dismisses her existence," Max continued, his frustration now laid bare. "If you can't appreciate the amazing person she is, then I want no part in this. Goodnight."
Without waiting for a response, Max pulled you from the couch. As you both retreated from the sitting room, leaving behind the echoes of tension and shattered illusions, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow.
Max led you through the ornate hallways of your family home, the grandeur of the surroundings now feeling suffocating. The air outside was cool and crisp as you stepped onto the front porch, the distant sounds of the night providing a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.
He turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to be like this."
You managed a small smile, appreciating his genuine intentions. "It's not your fault. Thank you for trying."
Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your family... it's not what I expected."
You nodded, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "It's never been easy."
"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you deserve better than this," Max said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, no matter what."
As Max navigated the darkened streets, a palpable tension and heavy silence filled the car ride home between you and him. The glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his determined expression, the lines of worry etched into his brow.
You sat beside him, lost in your thoughts, the events of the evening replaying in your mind like a broken record. The weight of the strained interactions with your family weighed heavily on your shoulders, a burden you couldn't shake.
Max glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped the car.
You sighed, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I don't know, Max. Tonight was… a lot. I’m sorry for Gabriella."
“They shouldn’t have said any of that.” Max ignored your comment, “that’s not- even I know that’s now how you treat family.”
“I’m sorry for Gabriella.” You tried to tell him once again, instead finding his hand reaching out to tangle it into yours. 
As Max's hand intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through your fingertips, grounding you in the present moment. His touch was a lifeline, offering solace amidst the turmoil that had consumed your family gathering. You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating the silent support he offered.
Max pulled the car over, letting him turn to you and gaze into your eyes.
"I know you're sorry, love," Max whispered, his voice laced with understanding. "But you can't take responsibility for someone else's idiotic words. Gabriella's actions were uncalled for, and it's not your parents should have stopped it, not… Encouraged it."
His words resonated deep within you, reminding you that you were not solely accountable for the strained relationship with your parents. The weight on your shoulders began to lighten as if Max's presence alone could alleviate the burden.
You turned to him, finally meeting his concerned gaze. "Thank you, Max. Your support means the world to me."
He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, alright?"
A surge of gratitude washed over you, grateful for the unwavering love and understanding Max consistently provided. You squeezed his hand once more, as he pulled out of the ditch. 
The car continued to glide through the darkened streets, but the heavy silence had transformed into a comforting embrace of shared vulnerability.
As the glow of streetlights continued to cast fleeting shadows, you realised that it was in the darkest moments that the strength of your relationship with Max shone the brightest. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you knew that together, you could weather any storm or awful family dinner.
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⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, sorry that it took so long to post this one
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fcb-mv33 · 28 days
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My boysss😭🥺🥺🥺🥺
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broadwayairbreathe · 2 months
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the way that charles would defend ferrari with his life (in any way) and he's just sitting there grinning and giggling at max imitating xavi.... stop it now
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landorris · 2 months
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blue jeans | max verstappen x fem! reader
summary; where lando norris and fernando alonso ask a random girl to play padel with them in max’s team
fc; ruby lyn
warnings; english is not my first language
taglist; @thef1diary @bigsimperika @shobaes @d3kstar @stinkyjax @the-untamed-soul @bibissparkles @judespoision
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
yourusername
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liked by yourfriend, user1 and others
yourusername: went for a run ended up playing padel with strangers (lost the game bc my teammate was horrible at it)
yourfriend: pls tell me more about it
yourusername: on my way 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️
user1: waiting for the vlog
yourusername: haven’t filmed one today 😕 but i promise next week you’ll have it🫡
user2: such a book thing
your phone and max’s phone
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landonorris
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and others
landonorris: max lost (again) we found y/n (again) and now we’re friends
yourusername: hey fwend👋🏽👋🏽
landonorris: hello muppet👋🏽
maxverstappen1: i let you won
yourusername: no you didn’t
user1: OMG Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE
user2: WAIT THAT CAPTION WAS ABOUT MAX?😭
user3: im lost, who’s y/n?
user4: she’s an youtuber/influencer, she posts vlogs and talks about health
user5: lando knows what we want to see
danielricciardo: poor little max verstappen embarrassed himself in front of ykw
user6: IT’S 100% Y/N
your phone
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourfriend and others
yourusername: these cars are really fast, isn’t it dangerous?
yourfriend: girl take me with you next time
yourusername: that’s not up to me
user1: i really love this y/n f1 crossover
user2: she went to the saudi arabia gp?!😫
maxverstappen: think i proved my point
yourusername: you did well ig🙄
user3: she’s so pretty
user4: one more post of them together and im gonna start screaming mom and dad
user5: @maxverstappen did you knew she has a cat?
your phone
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant and others
yourusername: milo has a new friend (still figuring out what to wear on this f1 thing
user1: don’t worry, youre serving
user2: vlog when
yourusername: i kinda made one in saudi but i don’t know if im going to post it
user2: do it rn!!!!
user3: mother
user4: that’s max’s hand, they’re so cat parents
logansargeant: you look cute
yourusername: thanks logan :)
user5: logan babe what are you doing here
user6: guys they want our gf
maxverstappen1: i miss the cat
yourusername: i see how it is
user7: parents😖😖😖
your phone and max’s phone
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kornelias · 1 month
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I was midnight rain
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Max Verstappen | Red Bull
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dzala-va · 1 month
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the Bull and the Horse
Max and Charles in medieval-fantasy AU with F1 drivers!
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alocon · 3 months
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A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [2] - Max Verstappen
written by alocon
Note: Name and Part One based on the song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be by Jess Benko
Summary: After the release of your first song, released the day before the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix weekend, there is some obvious tension in the garage as you and your ex boyfriend have one final fight for the championship.
Warning: Angst? I guess. Use of Y/N (sorry, I don't like using it but there were a couple of times that I had to bc I didn't have any alternatives), some social media at the end.
[The Masterlist] [Previous Part Here] [Next Part Here]
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A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [Part Two] - MV¹
2024 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix
Thursday - Media Day
"Lovely to see you all," Crofty said, looking around the group of drivers in the press conference. On the couch was Max, Lando, Charles, Lewis and You. "Firstly, Y/N, all of us over at Sky Sports are loving the new song, it’s been the talk of the paddock all morning too. Lots of us want to know, who is it about?”
You chuckled, knowing that you’d be asked at some point. You hadn’t expected it to be so soon. “Firstly, thank you. I’m glad that so many people have been liking it. Lew and I have literally been working on it since like the start of the year. I’m so thankful that he agreed to do the guitar for me because I wouldn’t have been able to do this without him. As for who it’s about.” You paused, looking quickly at Max, who’s eyes were already on you. You looked at him for a moment before turning your attention back to Crofty, making sure to look at glance at the drivers as you did. “It’s about one of my ex’s. I won’t say which one.”
“And the name. How did you come up with the song name? How are you feeling about this weekend, by the way?”
“It was something that he said to explain why we broke up. I like to think that everything happens for a reason, you know? And sometimes, things aren’t meant to be. And that’s just life. I’m just glad that people like it. I’m so excited for this weekend. As you all know, it’s been hard working towards this weekend, and I’m looking forward to giving Max a hell of a hard time.”
He chuckled, looking at you. Your eyes went straight to him, sending him a competitive grin. “Hope you’re looking forward to P2 in the drivers, buttercup.” Him hitting you with the teasing childhood nickname was a surprise. He started calling you that when you were both 14 because he slipped a buttercup into your hand and it scared the life out of you. So since then, he has never let you live it down. You didn’t even hesitate in your response to him.
“I hope you’re looking forward to seeing me on the top step of the podium, Princess Max.” The glare he shot you was almost instantaneous as Charles started laughing, obviously having understood the reference. 
“Right, just for that, I'm taking you out of the race on turn one.” You recognised that teasing tone in his voice, feeling your stomach flutter a little at that beautiful, happy tone that you had missed being directed at you. But you shook it off. ‘He wasn't meant to be, remember?’ you told yourself as the conference continued.
The moment you got out of the press conference, the atmosphere changed. Max walked straight past you, not even daring to look at you. You and Max still rarely talked. Since the start of 2024 you had become more civil, but you were nowhere near friends. 
Max slumped down onto the seat in his driver's room. He ran his hand through his hair, sighing. Fuck. He heard the door open and shut and, moments later, felt a presence on the space beside him on the couch. “Go on, then. What’s up?”
He raised his head to the man, looking at the seriousness all across his face. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Max. I was your teammate for like 2 years. I saw the way you loved her and I saw the mess after you broke up. I also just watched that press conference. Start speaking.” Daniel was persistent, to be fair to him. But he also had a point. Over the years, Daniel had heard a lot about how he felt but he never talked about you to him.
“I regret it. Basically every day. It’s not left my mind since I listened to her song.”
“Still? Max, it’s been 6 years since you broke up with her. Also, YOU broke up with HER. Why would you do that if you didn’t want to?”
Max sighed, the memories of his prior conversation coming back to him.
[November 2018]
“You need to break up with her.” The seven words he had always dreaded hearing. Never in a million years would he ever consider breaking up with you. You were his muse, his soulmate. You were the person he wanted to marry, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It was funny, the words that left the man in front of him’s mouth. He knew he had a long shot of ever getting him to do that.
“Give me one good reason why I should.”
“She’ll just distract you, Max!” Jos’ voice was already doing Max’s head in and he had only said 12 words so far. ‘What happened to hello, how are you?’ He thought, rolling his eyes at the poor excuse that he spilled.
“As if she had ever distracted me before. Seriously, dad. We have been karting and racing together for years, for our entire relationship, and nothing will change now that we are in the same team.”
And that’s how it became an argument. The pair were shouting at each other. And then the bomb dropped. Jos handed Max a photo, making a comment about how he wouldn’t want it to be leaked. Max looked at the photo, his stomach instantly turning with disgust as he realised the photo that his father had managed to get ahold of and was now using it to threaten him, attempting to get him to break up with you, his person, because he wasn’t a fan of you. Jos never had liked you. Whilst being with you, you had helped Max realise that Jos was not a good person by any means, and Jos didn’t like that. As if on queue, your head poked around the door, quickly apologising when you realised that Jos was there. Jos smiled at you, before speaking. “No problem, I was just leaving. Think about what I said, Max.”
“What a dick,” Daniel declared, having taken a few moments to process what Max had just explained.
“Daniel, I miss her so much.”
“I know, mate. I know.” Daniel paused his speaking for a minute, attempting to come up with some kind of recommendation. He was fully aware that Max couldn’t express how he felt in person, so he came up with an idea. “Maybe write her a letter. She likes displays of affection like that.”
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Race Day.
Crossing the line was the happiest you had been in a while. The race was excellent. For most of the race, Max and you had been fighting for P1 until he barely managed to get out of your DRS range. He ended up being a good few seconds ahead with 10 laps remaining. You didn't let that get to you, though, opting to keep pushing to the very last lap. And you did, getting closer and closer. However, you would've been perfectly happy if Max won. You both put up a brilliant fight and the drive against him was superb. But then you saw your golden opportunity. You overtook him, riskily but safely and fairly, regaining the lead of the race. Final lap. You heard the radio sound, being disappointed when Christian could be heard through it. “Give Max back the position, please.”
“Why should I?” You were pissed. Once again, they were attempting to strip you of everything you had worked hard for, everything that you wanted and dreamed of. Everything that you and Max talked about when you were kids. One day, he would say, one day we'll both be world champions, driving for Red Bull together and happily in love. Well, that last part didn't happen but you weren't about to give up on that.
“Max has worked so hard for this.”
“Fuck off, Christian, so have I.”
He said your name with venom, chuckling as he spoke. “We have a meeting to sign your contract extension tomorrow, remember. You've got to respect what your boss says if you want to keep driving.”
You scoffed as you crossed the finish line. No congratulations from Christian, a congratulations from your amazing race engineer, of course, but he was quickly shushed by Christian. You knew at least Crofty and Martin would be cheering in that commentary box, likely would be referring to it as the most interesting race since Abu Dhabi 2021 or Bahrain 2022.
Getting out of the car, you saw the red bull team. But they weren't cheering for you, they were cheering for Max. You hugged your engineer, excitedly celebrating your first world championship. The one you had worked so hard for day in and day out. You then rushed to hug a bunch of the drivers who were there, starting with Fernando who finished P3 in the race, as well as the championship. Then you went to them all, starting with Lewis, then Charles and Carlos, then Yuki, then Logan and so on. And then you saw Max. He walked to you, giving you a congratulatory hug. You hugged back, your arms going around his waist. You felt his hands move around your shoulders to your neck, confusion filling you as you pulled away from the hug, noticing the Dutch flag wrapped around your shoulders. “If I won, I was going to wear it to the podium. But this time, it's your turn. Congratulations.”
The post race interview started with Fernando, then only Max. When he was asked about how he felt about losing to you, he, too, referenced your childhood. “On the 14th of February 2012, she asked me what my dream was. I told her that it was for us to both make it to F1. For us to both be world champions, driving in the same team. Together. And a couple other things. Whilst we didn't get those other things, I'm happy that we have finally achieved most of our dreams.” It then went onto you. 
Jenson asked about the race, congratulated you, the normal stuff. He then brought up the request from Horner about letting Max win. He smiled softly, signalling for you to speak as much as you wanted. “To be quite honest, Jens, I think it was a stupid team order. For them to assume that I would willingly give up a championship to give it to someone else is insane. I’ve been listening to his orders for years, letting Max through most of the time I was asked. However, when I don't, all I would receive is a lecture. ‘You should’ve listened to us’ he would say. ‘You didn’t deserve that win, you are lucky you are even driving for us, don’t push your luck.’” Your eyes scanned the crowd as you spoke. Disgust about Christian’s actions was over all the driver’s faces. Including Max, who was clearly surprised. Christian, on the other hand, looked as white as a ghost. You continued speaking.
“However, I am not, by any means, upset with Max. I know that none of this was his fault. It was Christian’s,” you said, pausing to take a breath before saying the next thing. This whole year had built up to this moment. “Which is why I am incredibly happy to announce that the contract renewal meeting will not be necessary, because I will be driving for Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula One Team in the 2025 season.” You glanced over to Lewis who had grinned at you, winking, having already known the news. You took this opportunity to lightly tease him about his inability to say the team name. “See, Lew? It’s not that difficult to remember the name.”
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“So… Mercedes, huh?”
“Yes, Max. Mercedes. You won’t miss me too much when I’m gone, no?”
He chuckled, sitting on your couch as you packed your stuff up. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Are you going to the Red Bull Team Party later?”
“I wasn’t invited. Never have been.”
“Really?” He watched you nod. “Well, come anyway. Be my plus one, show them who’s the boss.” He stood up, stepping closer to you. “I’m sorry they favoured me. I never rewatched the races so I never saw the radio. I truly am sorry.”
“Max, it wasn’t your fault. I’ll think about your offer, I need to go.”
“Wait.” He reached in his pocket, pulling out some paper. “Read that when you get to the hotel, please.”
Y/N,
You’ll have to bear with me, I will try my best not to waffle too much. I struggle to express how I feel through words, so Daniel suggested a letter.
When I think back to 2018, I realised that I never gave you a proper explanation on why I broke up with you. It was not a choice which I wanted to make. If given the choice, I would’ve chose the opposite, however, given the situation, the choice was obvious.
My father threatened me with a photo. I know what you’re thinking. “Why would a photo give you a reason to break up with me?” Jos managed to get a hold of an inappropriate photo of you, one which he threatened to release if I stayed with you. Believe me, if the opportunity was there, we would still be dating now. However, I couldn’t do this to you. I couldn’t let your reputation in the F1 community get destroyed because I decided to be selfish and stay with you. I hope I can be forgiven for this. I loved your song. It might’ve been the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.
I know that our break up was irreparable. I handled it way worse than I should have. However, I again have reason for this. I feared that, if I wasn’t harsh, you would’ve been determined to keep us working. And I have a soft spot for you, I always have done. I would do anything for you in a heartbeat.
I know I never said it when we were together, and I know that I should have, but I love you more than I have ever loved anyone before. I have since the day we met to the current day. I’m planning to give this letter to you the day of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, after the race, but it was written before. I hope you know that, no matter what, even if you win the championship, nothing will ever stop me feeling devoted to you. You are my life, my soul, my person. I will love you until the day I take my last breath.
I know we may never be able to repair what we had, but maybe we could just be friends? If so, my number is *** *** *** ***, please message me, schat.
Forever yours,
Maxie xx
-
You messaged him. Of course you did. Deep down, you missed him. He was your person. You were happy he at least wanted to be friends. Sure, he absolutely was a soulmate who wasn't meant to be, but maybe you could at least talk a little more now.
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youruser
📍 Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi
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youruser: and with that, the 2024 season comes to an end. It's been a pleasure, glad to finally have a Championship under my belt x
tagged: maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial, georgerussell63
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maxverstappen1: Been a pleasure driving with you. Can't wait to have you as proper competition next year x
youruser: It's been a great 6 years, Max. x
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youruser
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youruser: My time at Red Bull Racing has come to an end. This decision was not one I took lightly, however, it took little to no consideration to make this decision. The treatment that I received from Red Bull Racing over the years and, more specifically, Christian Horner, has been one I would not wish upon any driver. That being said, Max, you have been a wonderful teammate. Can't wait to beat you again next year, just in a Mercedes this time. Goodbye Oracle Red Bull Racing, hello Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula One Team. (P.s. Christian, I am bringing my race engineer with me xoxo)
tagged: georgerussell63, maxverstappen1, mercedesamgf1
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georgerussell63: Can't wait to be your teammate!!
youruser: so hyped!!
maxverstappen1: Humble yourself, I'll be back to winning the wdc next year
youruser: lmaoooo you wish
mercedesamgf1: What's 4+4??
youruser: ATEEEE
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f1
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f1: bet you didn't expect this abu dhabi plot twist!! Our World Champ moves to Mercedes for 2025!!
-comments off-
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maxverstappen1 posted an instagram story!
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twitter
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-The End-
-Word Count: 2,483 (not incl. social media comments)-
Hi All, I got asked to write a part two so here we go x Sorry if this was bad, it's unedited and it's also currently 1.40am for me. Goodnight everyone, have a good day! Alocon
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visualvocabulary33 · 6 days
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hemmingsleclerc · 2 months
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max is streaming and olivia just starts putting like hair clips in his hair and doing him hair styles and putting on some kids makeup on his faces😂😂 this is so girldad
Daddy's Girl ┃MV1
So so cute this request!!🥲💗
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It was a Saturday afternoon and Max was at home with his wife and daughter Olivia. Max, being on a vacation from the world of f1, was enjoying some time off, so that day he had decided to do a live on Twitch since he hadn't done one in a while.
While Max played concentratedly on the virtual track with his friends, the chat was filled with comments. Suddenly, the sound of small footsteps echoed in Max's room. Olivia, with her small pink backpack with the Disney princesses logo, made her triumphant entrance.
Viewers couldn't believe their eyes when Olivia appeared on screen. Max, still focused on the race, seemed taken aback when he heard the rustle of her small backpack.
Out of nowhere, Olivia pulled out a Barbie makeup set, complete with a variety of bright and colorful colors along with butterfly and flower clips. With the confidence of a professional makeup artist, she approached her unsuspecting father, who was still competing against his friends.
While she laughed with joy, Max played along, pretending to be a serious player with a new hair and matching makeup.
She delicately applied brightly colored makeup along with small sparkles in his eyes, creating a masterpiece on his father's face, much to the delight of the viewers.
''Daddy smile to put you pink blush''
''Like this?'' Max said without taking his eyes off the screen.
''Yes''
Just before finishing her work she told her father to put on ''duck lips'', Max not knowing what that meant took a quick look at what his daughter was trying to say before copying her action to put lip gloss on him.
"You look bonita, papa!" Olivia exclaimed, using her limited Spanish vocabulary she had picked up from her mom.
''Thank you very much angel , all this thanks to you''
Before Olivia left she could hear her uncle Lando tell her father "Max, you've never looked more handsome mate!", clearly mocking him but with Olivia's innocence, she happily approached her father, grabbed the small microphone and said with a loud voice ''Uncle Lando, you will be my next client!''
''Of course he will, angel'' Max responded, laughing with his little girl.
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pucksandpower · 1 month
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It’s Only Natural
Max Verstappen x innocent!Reader
Summary: in which Max shows you that it’s okay to want
Warnings: 18+ content
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You sit on the edge of the bed, your hands folded primly in your lap. You watch as Max moves about, discarding his shirt and stepping out of his jeans until he’s down to just his boxers. There’s an easy grace to his movements, like a predatory animal comfortable in its skin.
Your eyes trace over the curves and lines of his body appreciatively before you catch yourself and quickly look away, heat flooding your cheeks. You hear him chuckle.
“See something you like?”
You keep your gaze fixed firmly on the floor. “I wasn’t looking.”
The mattress dips as Max sits beside you. He tilts your chin up. Reluctantly you meet his stare, the grey of his eyes as vivid as the stormy sky.
“It’s okay, you know. To want me.” His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “We’ve been together for months now. It’s only natural.”
You swallow hard, torn between embarrassment and yearning. “Wanting is … improper. Before marriage.” The words sound weak even to your own ears.
Max smirks. “Who told you that? Your parents? The church?” He leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. “They don’t own your body or your desires. Only you do.”
You shiver at his proximity, inhaling the scent of his skin. Like walking past a bakery first thing in the morning, the aroma of fresh bread wafting out onto the street. Your mouth waters.
“I know you feel it too,” Max murmurs. “This hunger. This heat between us.” His fingers trail down your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. “Don’t be ashamed of it.”
Your breaths come faster. You’re trembling, but not from the cold. “Max ...”
He silences you with a kiss. His lips are firm yet soft, coaxing rather than demanding. The kiss deepens slowly, each brush of his mouth unraveling you further until you’re clinging to him, dizzy with want.
When you finally break for air, Max gazes at you tenderly. “How do you feel?”
You lick your tingling lips. “I-I don’t know. Confused. Like my body is doing things without my permission.” You press a hand to your heaving chest. “My heart is racing so fast.”
“That’s desire, liefje.” Max strokes your hair soothingly. “It’s new and frightening now, but you’ll get used to it.” He kisses your forehead. “There’s no need to be scared.”
You nod hesitantly. He’s right, this feeling is terrifying in its intensity. But it’s also tantalizing, a thirst you never knew needed quenching.
You take a deep breath. “What happens next?”
Max smiles encouragingly. “That’s up to you. We can take this as slow or as fast as you want. It’s your journey — I’m just your guide.” He lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “You lead, I’ll follow.”
Reassured, you lean into him. “Kiss me again?”
“With pleasure.”
This time when Max’s lips find yours, you let your instincts take over. Your mouth moves shyly against his at first but grows bolder, mimicking the way he teases your bottom lip, coaxes your tongue. The tender exploration sends pulses of heat coursing through you. You’re lit up from the inside, like a lantern glowing in the dark.
You come up for air again, dizzy and breathless. Max’s eyes are hooded, his own breathing uneven. “How was that?”
You press closer, craving the hardness of his body. “I want more.”
Max grins. “Do you now?”
Before you can respond, he captures your mouth again, kissing you with a passionate urgency that steals your thoughts away. You cling to him as the last of your inhibitions burns up like paper held to a flame.
There is only feeling now — exquisite, terrifying, blissful feeling.
When Max finally releases you, you’re shaking all over. He brushes the hair back from your face tenderly. “Talk to me. How are you?”
You wet your parched lips. “I feel … alive. Awake.” You glance up at him almost shyly. “Thank you for waking me up.”
Max’s expression softens. “You’re welcome.” He lies back on the bed, opening his arms to you. “Come here.”
You curl into him without hesitation, resting your head on his chest. His steady heartbeat grounds you as his fingers trail up and down your back idly. You trace random patterns on his skin, marveling at the way it prickles under your touch.
“Can I ask you something?” You murmur.
“Of course.”
You chew your lip thoughtfully. “How did you know? That I wanted this?”
Max considers the question. “I saw how your body responded to mine, even when you tried to hide it.” His hand slides to your hip, rubbing gentle circles. “I heard how your breathing changed when I got close to you.”
You flush at the knowing tone in his voice.
“Most of all though, I recognized the longing in your eyes.” Max tilts your chin up so you have to meet his earnest gaze. “You and I are the same. Our bodies have needs we can’t ignore.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Is it always this … intense?”
Max laughs. “No, it gets easier. The more you open yourself to pleasure, the less it will overwhelm you.” He plays with a lock of your hair idly. “Think of your desire like a wild horse. Right now it’s bucking and straining at the reins. But with time and training, you’ll be able to ride it smoothly.”
You consider this. “Have you trained your horse well?”
“Very well,” Max says wryly. “We understand each other perfectly.”
You bite your lip. “Will you teach me?”
Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, desire written plainly across his face. Your own excitement builds under that molten stare.
Finally he nods. “If that’s what you want.” His voice is slightly hoarse now. “We’ll take it slow. One step at a time.”
Your heart flutters wildly. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.
Max clears his throat. “For now, just try to get comfortable being so close to me. Explore a bit.” His hand trails down your side. “Learn what feels good.”
You arch into his touch instinctively, craving more contact. Your mouths find each other again, hot and seeking. You let your hands wander across the warm planes of his chest, tracing each ridge and valley. When your fingers brush one of his nipples, Max makes a low sound that shoots desire through you like lightning.
You tear your mouth from his, eyes wide. “Did I hurt you?”
“God, no.” Max’s pupils are blown wide, fixed on you intently. “That felt good. Do it again.”
Emboldened, you experiment with touching him the way he touched you, learning which caresses make his breath hitch and muscles tighten. Before long Max is shaking under your hands, his control fraying at the edges.
“Enough,” he growls, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the bed. “Any more and this lesson will be over far too soon.”
You grin up at him impishly. “Maybe next time then.”
Max groans. “You’re going to be the death of me.” But he’s smiling as he dips his head to kiss you lazily.
When he finally releases your wrists, you wrap your arms around him, enjoying the warmth and solidness of his body. You feel different now — more awake, more alive. Like you’ve stepped through a doorway into a bigger and brighter world.
“Thank you for today,” you whisper, meaning it with your whole heart. “I feel … free.”
Max kisses the top of your head tenderly. “You’ve always been free, schatje. I’m just helping you see it.” He lifts your chin so your eyes meet. “We’ve only just started. There are so many wonders still to show you.”
A thrill races through you at the promise in his voice. You settle against his chest again, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart as you fall asleep in his arms, unafraid of wanting anymore.
Your body and heart are finally coming home to each other.
***
Morning sun spills through the curtains, rousing you slowly from sleep. The other half of the bed is empty but still warm, and the faint clatter of dishes downstairs means Max is already up and making breakfast.
You stretch languidly, yesterday’s explorations still fresh in your mind. A newfound heat simmers in your veins, sending a flush across your skin.
You find Max in the kitchen, hair charmingly mussed, wearing only pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips. He grins when he sees you.
“Good morning, liefje. Sleep well?”
You come up behind him, sliding your arms around his trim waist. “Mmm I did,” you nuzzle into his bare shoulder. He smells warm and masculine. You press a kiss to his skin, eliciting a pleased hum.
“Keep that up and I’ll burn breakfast,” Max says wryly. He turns in your embrace, fingers tilting your chin up for a slow, simmering kiss. By the time he pulls back you’re breathless and tingling.
“What’s gotten into you today?” He looks delighted.
You bite your lip coyly. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.” You flatten your palms against his chest, feeling his heart pick up speed. “I want to keep learning.”
Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, desire pooling in his heated gaze. “Finish eating first,” he says finally. “Then meet me upstairs.”
Excitement bubbles through you. You eat breakfast quicker than you ever have before, then hurry to the bedroom where Max awaits, sitting on the edge of the bed. He beckons you over with a crooked smile.
“Eager today, are we?”
You nod, leaning down to initiate a kiss. Max obliges, his mouth warm and seeking against yours. When you move to deepen it further, he gently grasps your shoulders and eases you back.
“Slow down, schatje. We’ve got all the time in the world.” His tone is kind but firm. “Let’s take this lesson nice and easy.”
You duck your head, chastened. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rush.”
Max tips your chin back up, eyes tender. “It’s okay. I know everything feels new and exciting.” His thumb brushes your bottom lip softly. “But the best pleasures are the ones we savor.”
Heart swelling, you turn your head to press a kiss to his palm. “Teach me?”
Max nods. “Come sit with me.”
You settle beside him on the bed, pulse skipping when he draws you close. His hands glide up your arms, raising goosebumps, before coming to rest lightly around your neck. His touch is reverent, worshipful.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs. “I could spend hours exploring you.”
He kisses behind your ear, along your jawline, each press of his lips languid and unhurried. By the time he reaches your mouth you’re trembling, hyper-aware of everywhere your bodies touch.
Max takes his time kissing you deeply, thumbs sweeping over your throat and down to your collarbones. You lean into him, chasing more of that exquisite friction, but he doesn’t allow you to rush. He pulls back again and again until you relax, surrendering to his pace.
“There you go, just like that,” he praises. “Nice and slow.”
You keen softly when his fingers trail down to trace along the neckline of your shirt, back and forth. He toys with the top button, watching your face attentively.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“Don’t stop,” you breathe.
Max smiles and pops the first button open. Then he pauses, bending to kiss the new inch of exposed skin. Goosebumps prickle across your chest as he continues his unhurried path downward, kissing each new glimpse of flesh laid bare.
By the time he reaches the last button you’re trembling violently, head tipped back in bliss. Max’s strong hands sweep up your sides and around to unclasp your bra. You gasp as the garment falls away, leaving you bare before him.
Reverently he cups your breasts, thumbs sweeping over your tightened peaks. The sensation wrings a desperate moan from you.
“You’re exquisite,” Max marvels. He bends to take one nipple into his mouth and your vision goes white, senses overwhelmed by slick heat. He suckles you gently, littering kisses across your fevered skin until you’re writhing mindlessly against him.
“Max, please ...”
He kisses his way back up to your mouth, face alight with tenderness and desire. “What do you need?”
You clutch his shoulders, nearly sobbing. “You. I need you.”
Max groans, deepening the kiss until you’re drunk on him, on this feeling. His body shifts, pressing you down into the mattress, and you go willingly, eagerly.
“Not yet, liefje.” With monumental effort he stills, pulling back to look at you. His eyes are dark, lips kiss-swollen. “Is this too much?”
You shake your head desperately. “Don’t stop. Show me everything.”
Max hesitates, muscles corded with restraint. “Next time,” he grits out. “I want our first to be perfect.”
He rolls off you and you whimper at the loss of contact. Max gathers you close, stroking your hair as you slowly come down from your near-high.
“You were incredible,” he murmurs. “So receptive. So passionate.”
You cling to him, heart still pounding. “I want you so much it hurts.”
Max tips your chin up, gazing at you solemnly. “I know. And you’ll have me, I promise.” He kisses you sweetly. “But forcing things too soon will only dull the pleasure later.”
You know he’s right. With great effort you tamp down the fever in your blood, focusing on the warmth and strength of his embrace.
“Thank you for stopping,” you whisper. “I know it wasn’t easy.”
Max smiles wryly. “You have no idea.” He caresses your face tenderly. “But your pleasure means more to me than my own.”
You lick your suddenly parched lips. “I’m ready,” you say simply. “Whenever you think the time is right.”
Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, stripped bare by yearning. Then he nods slowly. “Soon.”
***
The next few days pass in a haze of stolen kisses and wandering hands. Each touch stokes the fire between you higher, until you’re dizzy with anticipation.
When Max finally whispers that you’re ready, that tonight will be the night, you can scarcely breathe for excitement. He takes you upstairs after dinner, kissing you deeply before leaving to run you a bath.
“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”
You change into the lacy lingerie set you bought just for this occasion, hands trembling. The ivory silk and lace hugs your curves perfectly, making you feel delicate and desired.
Max returns to find you sitting primly on the bed, heart in your throat. His eyes widen, traveling appreciatively over you.
“You’re a vision,” he murmurs. He sits beside you, hand coming up to caress the line of your throat, tantalizingly close to the swells of your barely concealed breasts. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
He kisses you, slow and deep, until you’re breathing hard. With gentle hands he undresses you, lips following the path of revealed skin. By the time the lingerie slips to the floor, you’re trembling and ready.
Max rises gracefully from the bed, shedding his own clothes. The hunger in his eyes steals your breath away. He’s beautiful like this, powerful muscle and taut sinew under smooth skin. Your apprehension melts into awed desire.
“Come,” he says simply, holding out a hand.
He leads you into the bathroom where rose petals float across steaming water. Candles line the counter, filling the air with a soft glow.
Max helps you into the tub before sliding in behind you. You sigh, relaxing back against his chest. For a while he just holds you, lips grazing your temple, your cheek, the curve of your shoulder.
“Are you nervous?” He asks eventually. His breath tickles your ear.
“A little,” you admit. “Mostly just excited.” You cover his hands with your own, drawing them around to span your stomach. “I’m ready for you to have all of me.”
Max nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “You honor me.” His palms glide higher, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease your nipples. You arch into the caress, lips parting in bliss. He kisses down the slope of your neck until you’re mindless, head falling back onto his shoulder.
“Max ...” His name catches on a moan.
He kisses just beneath your ear. “Tell me what you need, schatje.”
You take one of his hands, guiding it lower beneath the water. Max exhales harshly when you press his fingers between your legs.
“Please,” you beg softly.
Max complies, caressing you in unhurried circles. The slick glide of his fingers has you shaking, pulsing against his hand. He works you higher with gentle expertise until your climax crashes over you like a wave. You cry out, collapsing limply back against him.
Max holds you through the aftershocks, murmuring praise and adoration. As you float back down he washes you tenderly, hands worshipping every inch of your spent body. By the time he helps you from the bath your nerves have melted away, replaced only by bliss.
Max dries you off before scooping you up and carrying you to bed. He lays you down reverently and you reach for him, needing to feel him against you.
He goes willingly, covering your body with his, all heated skin and taut muscle. You revel in the delicious weight of him, the intimacy of full-body contact. Max kisses you deeply, one hand trailing down to lift your knee, opening you up to him.
He pulls back just far enough to meet your eyes. “Are you sure?” His voice resonates with restraint.
“Yes,” you whisper. “Please, Max.”
He kisses you sweetly as he finally, carefully, joins your bodies. You gasp into his mouth at the feeling of him filling you so exquisitely. For a moment you’re frozen, overwhelmed by the intensity.
Max stills, letting you adjust. “Talk to me, liefje.” His voice is tight. “Does it hurt?”
You run your hands up his back, grounding yourself in the solidness of him. “No. It just feels … big.” You shift your hips experimentally and have to stifle a moan. “But so good.”
Max relaxes slightly, some of the tension leaving his frame. “We’ll take this slow.” He kisses across your cheekbones, your fluttering eyelids, soothing you as your body adjusts to accommodate him. “Just breathe. There’s no rush.”
When you finally nod for him to move, he rocks into you in achingly gradual strokes. Each glide lights you up from within, pleasure swelling inexorably. Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, taking him deeper.
Max groans. “You feel incredible.” He quickens just slightly, just enough to wring gasps from you both. “So perfect for me.”
You cling to him, this man you love beyond reason, beyond promise. He fills you in every way, heart, body and soul. “Max,” you breathe against his lips like a prayer, and his pace stutters.
“Say it again.” His eyes are molten, searing into yours.
“Max.” You pour every ounce of love and devotion you feel into his name.
With a ragged moan he claims your mouth, kissing you fiercely even as his hips snap against yours. You cry out, senses flooded by him, by the feeling of your bodies joining so exquisitely. The pleasure crests unbearably high before you shatter, clenching and shuddering around him.
Max follows you over with a harsh groan, chest heaving against yours. For an eternity all you know is each other, breathing as one.
Max rolls to the side so he doesn’t crush you, pulling you along so you stay cradled against him. You cling tightly, still joined, overwhelmed by what you’ve just shared.
Max tilts your chin up, eyes tender but concerned. “Are you alright?”
You smile shakily, smoothing back his sweat-damp hair. “I’m perfect.” You press soft kisses across his face. “That was … everything.”
Relief breaks across his face. He wraps you in his arms, tucking your head under his chin. “I love you,” he whispers into your hair. “Beyond anything.”
You snuggle closer, basking in the warmth of his embrace, the steadiness of his heart. “I love you too. Forever.”
Eventually Max slips from your body and you mourn the loss, even as exhaustion tugs at you. He cleans you gently with a warm cloth before pulling you against him once more.
You drift toward sleep, lulled by the soothing strokes of his fingers through your hair. Just before slumber takes you, Max presses his lips to your temple.
“Thank you for your gift tonight,” he breathes. “I’ll spend my whole life trying to be worthy of it.”
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