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afterglowsainz · 2 days

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i'mgonnagetyouback | max verstappen

summary: after you and max broke up you released an album about it and when you go on tour, you didn't expected max to be there front row after being dragged by his new girlfriend's daughter

warnings: none

word count: 877

a/n: this is kinda told in max's pov (?, also heavily inspired on taylor's eras tour and i slightly changed the lyrics of the song to relate it a bit more to max

the tortured athletes department series

the lights were out in the stadium but there was barely any darkness. the lights of flashes from phones and twinkling colored light bracelets illuminated the allegiance stadium in las vegas, every person there waiting for the one and only y/n y/l/n.

if you would’ve told max months ago that he was gonna be at her ex-girlfriend’s sold out concert the same weekend he was racing in vegas, he would’ve laughed in your face. but here he was, waiting with the other 69,000 people for her to show up on stage and sing all her hit songs, including the ones that she wrote about him after their breakup.

he had to remind himself that the only reason he was doing this was because of his new girlfriend's daughter, who begged them for weeks to take her to y/n’s concert or she would simply die. she was y/n’s biggest fan because, of course, karma had to do that to max. so there he was, in the vip section of the stadium without y/n’s knowledge, next to his new girlfriend and her daughter.

the lights on the bracelets turned off and the stadium went a bit darker than before, announcing the start of the show. when a huge clock on the stage came up and it reached the number zero, y/n came out singing the first song of the concert and the crowd went wild. max was immediately mesmerized by her. she hadn’t changed much since they broke up, that much he noticed, and she was as beautiful as ever.

he had to control himself not to sing along to her songs to not give his girlfriend a bad impression, even though her daughter was singing all her songs by heart. he just nodded and move along with the rhythm, avoiding the gaze of his girlfriend who was very well aware of her boyfriends history with the singer on stage.

y/n was singing her most famous songs and a few that were more lowkey, and when they reached the acoustic set of the concert, she was carrying a wide smile while playing a few keys on the piano. max smiled at the sight of her.

“hello, vegas!” she shouted at the microphone, making the whole stadium scream. “welcome to the acoustic set.” she smiled. “i’ve been meaning to sing different surprise songs every night, some that i haven’t played in a while, some others brand new. this one particularly is from my new album, i hope you enjoy it.”

max stopped breathing for a second. it was very well known with the public that y/n’s new album was about their breakup and she hadn’t sung any of those songs until tonight. he didn’t know what to do with himself or how to behave, so he simply crossed his arms and stood a bit further into the vip section. in the location he was he had a perfect view of her, but she hadn’t seen him all night.

soon enough y/n start singing one of the songs from the new album that max new for a fact was about him. he hadn’t listen to the whole album because he just didn’t want to relieve the breakup. in his defense he did try to give it a listen, but it was just to overwhelming for him so he had to stop listening mid-album, but this one he knew.

Lilac short skirt / The one that fits me like skin

max submerged himself in the lyrics and y/n’s incredibly familiar voice. only now she wasn’t singing just for him, but for thousands of people.

Whether I'm gonna be your wife or / Gonna smash up your car, I / Haven't decided yet / But I'm gonna get you back

a rebel smile appeared on his face, incapable of hiding how much she meant to him, how much he had missed her. seeing her there, singing her heart out on stage for a crowd of people who were crazy about her, god, how could he lost her?

I can feel it comin', hummin' in the way you move / Push the reset button, we're becoming something new / Say you got somebody, I'll say, "I got someone too" / Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you

the smile on her face while singing the song she wrote made his smile even greater. he didn’t know the song fully like his girlfriend’s daughter, but he knew; he lived it, just as much as she did. in that moment in time, he felt connected to her in a level that no one in the stadium was.

I hear the whispers in your eyes / I'll make you wanna think twice / You'll find that you were never not mine / I'm gonna get you back

when the song finished, the multitude exploited in praise and y/n’s smile grew on her face. max completely forgot about everyone else and joined the crowd, screaming for her and applauding. y/n stood up from the piano and did a small bow before leaving the stage for her next set of songs.

it was as clear as day for max and it struck him like lightning. he was gonna get her back.

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vivwritesfics · 1 day

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So mick or max

Heat/rut

Reader having been waiting for it and purposely flirting with others people to trigger it

(Driver doesn't Wang to mate cause he has seen how much in pain a human can be if mated to a wolf)

Now that has been thrownxoit the window

Reader being fucked seven ways to sunday, being mates cuaee they are literally begging for it 🫠👹👹

Throw ib some breeding kink and a worried driver afterwards and it is 👌🫶

I LOVE YOU

Hope you feel better 🫶🫶🫶

ILYYYYYY and I went with Max bc I don't write mick lol - also I haven't written abo in maybe three years so I'm a little rusty but damn I've missed it.

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, biting, hickies, breeding kink

Max could have killed her. Not literally, he loved her too much to let his instincts take over like that. Well, his instincts would have told him to protect her.

The way she was giggling with Daniel and hanging off of his arm, Max let the growl rip from his throat. How dare she even think about touching another Alpha.

But it wasn't her fault. She couldn't understand the surge of emotions he was feeling when she was so utterly human. But she was his human.

She turned to Max, batted her pretty eyelashes at him and walked away from Daniel. Max released a breath, but he didnt have long to stay calm. Because then she was walking towards Charles.

He may have been a Beta, but he shouldn't have been scenting her like that. What the fuck was he doing, pressing his nose against her neck like that? If only Max had the guts to claim her, Charles wouldn't dare.

When she made a move towards Esteban, a Beta Max didn't particularly like, he growl and grabbed a hold of her, practically throwing her over his shoulder like a ragdoll.

"Max!" She squeaked, almost excitedly. If she was like him, she would have been able to feel his anger. But she was too human for that.

Max carried her to his drivers room, not caring about the others around him. The world knew about his mate, since he simply couldn't stay away from her.

Once in his drivers room, Max set her down. "What do you think you're doing?" He growled, sticking his nose into her neck and scenting her. She smelt like Daniel and Charles, and he hated it.

The laughing and giggles had stopped as he stared down at her with his steely blue eyes. No, she had become almost sheepish under the stare of the big bad wolf. "I, uh, I heard that jealousy can trigger a rut," she mumbled under her breath.

"Liefde," he said through a groan, nosing at the spot where the mark of his claim over her should be. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"

She pouted at him as he pulled away. "You always say you race better after a rut."

Max let out a laugh, one that reverberated through his chest. "Can you let me get through this race weekend first? And then maybe it will come about naturally."

She knew what he meant. Triggering his rut now would stop him from racing all together. There would be no way to remove him from the bed, remove him from her cunt. Trigger his rut now and he wouldn't stop until his seed filled her belly.

She'd been through one rut with Max before. It was more intense than anything She'd ever been through before. But she loved it. Max, though, he'd been panicking, worried he'd been hurting her through his muddied brain.

She let him get through the weekend. Wore his shirt, his hat, made sure she smelt like him before he raced.

Of course, he won. Maybe it was his desperation to get back to her.

The moment he crossed the finish line, she was in his arms, kissing him the moment he took off his helmet. A win always meant sex, plus his rut was definitely coming.

Max couldn't wait to be done with all the usual formalities. The interviews, the podiums, the meeting with the team. He was irritable, desperate to get to where she was waiting in his hotel room.

As soon as he was done with everything, he made this way back to the hotel. He was rushing, desperate to get back to her.

If all of his flirting with Max's pack mates didn't trigger his rut, seeing her sitting on his bed in the prettiest little negligee certainly did. Maybe it was the smell of her that had a growl leaving his lips and his eyes flashing as he stared down at her.

Immediately he was tenting his pants. She just looked so goddamn pretty, he couldn't get enough. Immediately he pressed his lips to her own. For two seconds, it was sweet.

But then Max had taken over completely, his tongue in her mouth, lips bruising against her own. He moved his lips to her neck and began kissing down the right side. He paid special attention to where her mating mark should have been. But Max wouldn't give her that mark, not until he had a clear mind.

He didn't notice that his hips were grinding against her own. But she was whining as he did, gripping his shoulders.

If Max had more control over his own body, he would have pulled back, would have told her to get out and to let him take care of it on his own. But, in that moment, all he wanted was his girl.

She whined out his name as her fingers reached down to try and pull off his jeans. But the way he was holding her, she was unable to get a good grip. "Need you," she cried through a whine, hands returning to her hair.

Through his muddied mind, Max managed to understand her. Maybe it was because he was feeling the exact same thing. He popped the button on his jeans expertly (his gaming had left him with incredibly skilled fingers) and pulled down the zipper.

But he didn't free himself, not yet. First, he needed to taste her.

His fingers pulled up the material of her negligee, bunching it around her hips. The noise pulled from his lips was inhuman as his lips met the skin of her thigh. God, he loved it, loved noises she made as his lips got closer and closer.

The feel of his tongue running through her folds shouldn't have come as a surprise. But she still released a gasp. "All mine," he said against, the vibrations of his words sending a shiver through his body.

As he sucked at her clit, his fingers moved to penetrate her, the squelching sounds obscene as they filled the room. Her hips rolled against him, riding his fingers Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging and pulling. She cried out his name and he grunted.

Her movements were desperate and frantic as she chased her own release. Max had stopped moving his fingers, lips still working as he let her work herself on his fingers.

But Max didn't let her come undone. He pulled away from her, eyes flashing as he freed himself from his jeans. He pulled her close, holding her legs up to her chest. He pressed his nose against her neck and inhaled.

As his cock pushed through her folds, he pressed kisses against her neck. If he could have said anything other than 'mine' as he rutted against her, he would have told her he loved her.

He set a bruising pace as she felt his teeth against her neck. She couldn't say anything other than his name, leaving her lips like a prayer. He rolled his hips against her own again and again, the pace he set animalistic and bruising.

It didn't take long until she came undone beneath him, body shaking as her legs clamped around his middle. Incoherent babbles left her lips as Max kept going, gripping her so fucking tight.

"Gonna fill you up," he said between grunts. "Gonna breed you until you're full of my babies."

His teeth sank into the skin of her shoulder, not hard enough to break it, as he came. His hips stilled, but he didn't pull out, body half laying against her own.

When Max finally pulled out of her, he laid beside her and touched that spot on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, liefde," he whispered, fingers brushing the hickies and marks littering her skin.

The few minutes he had of clarity before he was ready to go again was spent cuddling. He was going to fill her over and over again for the next few days and, if she wasn't on birth control, there was no way she would have been coming out of this rut not pregnant.

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dreamauri · 3 days

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♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part two max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

“Come on, you can’t say he has so much potential!” Max miserably tried to hold in his laughs as you continued your rant about how much better Max would look if he put a little more effort or thought in how he dressed.

“I’m honestly starting to think he’s allergic to wearing anything . . . not Red Bull related. Like even in his streams! In his home!”

Sitting in front of his laptop with a makeshift setup in the hotel room in Japan, Max found himself unwinding from the earlier media day when he gladly accepted to join you for a game of Fifa. It wasn’t until someone brought up Lewis’ outfit from this morning did you start your little ted talk.

“La, please concentrate on the game, we’re losing!” he couldn’t stop laughing either so your team was toast either way.

“No, because I bet he's wearing his Red Bull shirt right now wherever he is.”

The reason why Max was no longer able to hold it together was because he was indeed in a Red Bull shirt. He might actually take you up on being allergic to anything not associated with Red Bull.

“I’ll gladly design a few outfits for him, I swear!”

“La-” Max put his face in his hands, shoulders shaking from laughter as his screen showed the opposing team scoring a goal. The dutch would usually feel frustrated if he were to be losing a Fifa game in any other situation, but not this one with you.

He's ready to lose and lose again, even give up his title as one of the world's top twenty Fifa players if he gets to spend time with you like this, laughing and joking; forgetting the world around, so it's just you and him.

Just two people . . . being people.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Since I have no one to show, you're stuck with me.”

It’s kind of been a routine now, having a private call after a game or upon finding spare time. You two have gotten close. You even considered “amilian” to be a close friend, per say. A close friend who you regularly vent to about work or just randomly ask riddles or dad jokes to bother.

You enjoyed his company. He was a fun person to be around. He made you feel . . . yellow in a type of way too. You never felt left out or unheard. He always had time for you, it's like you were maybe gravitating to being more than close friends . . . it's not like you can do anything about it though.

Surely people make close friends online all the time.

You stay up on your couch, scrolling through the settings of your laptop to show and rant despite having to get up in the morning. Max crossed his legs on his chair folding his arms and watching the screen as you messed around on your shared screen.

“La, it’s late.” He’s been trying to tell you for the past 10 minutes. It’s 6:30 in Japan, 7 hours ahead of the time in Paris, where you were.

Not that he’s keeping track of the time where you were, it’s just that you shared the same time zone as Monaco, and he only had the GMT+2 clock displayed on his home screen because he needed to keep track of his cats . . . not too make sure you got enough sleep or anything of that sort.

“It's only 11:30,” you shushed, pulling up pinterest. Max hung his head, trying to hold in his smile. “I could put together a whole outfit that would suit him right here and now,”

“La,” Max giggled watching you actually start to search and put things together. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you go to sleep, I'll try to get Max Verstappen in baggy jeans,”

“WHAT?!” the blond flinched at the loud noise, looking around his hotel room to make sure no one heard anything -- despite him being alone.

“You know I work in F1 right?” Max followed up, trying to hold in his smile at your silence. “La, you forgot?!”

“I’m sorry!” you pleaded, holding your hands in a begging motion despite him not seeing anything.

Max put his hand on his chest and pretended to be offended when he was smiling really wide to the point his cheeks hurt. “My best friend doesn't know what I do for a living,” he gushed in fake hurt.

Your mind blanked at the title. Best friend?

“You do know what my job is, right, La?”

“. . .” You looked away embarrassed, you’ve known the guy for how long and don’t even know what his profession is.

Max couldn’t stop his giggles. “Go to bed, La. I’ll get Max in baggy jeans for you.”

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey um, million?”

“I thought I told you to go to bed?” Max chuckled, crouched in front of his suitcase, digging through it in hopes to find a pair of baggy jeans or a white shirt that he probably doesn't own.

“I am in bed technically . . .” The blond looked over to his laptop on his desk, the call still going. “You work in F1,” Max felt his heart jump in anxiety for a second, there's no way you figured him out.

“Yeah?”

“Well um . . . my boss chose me to go see how things were going with McLaren at the Monaco gp,”

The dutch perked up at your announcement. “Really? That's great!”

“Y-Yeah, it is,” you stuttered, agreeing. you crossed your arms, looking at the email congratulating you on your phone screen. “I mean, I'm glad, this is an experience of a lifetime. I get to drag along a few interns with me as well.” Max frowned, your tone did not match with the news you were announcing.

“What's wrong?” He got up, sitting on the desk chair, looking at your profile picture, the concern was clear in voice, as if you could feel him sitting beside you on your bed and gently rubbing your back to comfort you.

“Well, I don't have anyone to go with - the interns don't count . . . and I don't know anyone in Monaco or the attendees-- except you technically . . . I haven’t been on my own for that long before,” you sighed.

Max furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher what you were asking of him.

“Is it-” you cut yourself of with a sigh. “Can I hang out with you sometime? During the weekend?” Max stayed silent, feeling his heart pounding to the point he was scared the organ would explode out of his chest.

“I mean,” Max cleared his throat to hide the crack in his voice that arose from the anxiety he was drowning in. “I’m not traveling with the team every weekend, so I'm not sure if I'm going to be in Monaco . . . I’ll have to ask my boss.” he replied quietly and slowly, trying to comfort you still. “There’s still a few weeks before Monaco, so . . . I don’t know for sure.” He whispered, scratching the back of his head.

He was digging himself a grave. Asking Horner if he’s going to be in Monaco when he is the driver and already lives in Monaco? It’s too late now to be honest about who he is, he dug this hole himself and now he’s stuck in it.

It’s not like he can be like ‘oh, yeah of course you can hang out with me. Oh, I’m Max Verstappen by the way, the guy who’s driving the best car and winning all the races, so I can get you VIP tickets and a hot lap too if you want.’

“I’ll try my best to be there,” the blond whispered. You could almost feel him brushing your hair comfortingly. “We can get ice cream or go sightseeing. I know this really good cafe you’ll like . . .” Max will just have to keep digging his hole.

proof reading credits to the lovely and amazing @classiclitfreak <3

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shootingstar-scuderia · 11 hours

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shoot an arrow through my heart

max verstappen x reader

there's something you need to hear max say, but you're not sure if he's actually going to say it. you do know one thing though, it was always gonna be you and max.

a/n: started this longer ago than i'd like to admit but here we are! a big thank you to my fave beta reader K and to @scuderiahoney who helped me figure out all the banner image stuff. based on prompt #966 from this list.

masterlist

It starts with Lando. Because doesn’t it always?

Lando says shit he doesn’t mean, Lando says things just for the sake of saying them. Lando says things as if they are fundamentally truths when they are in fact are lies.

And so, one moment you’re hanging out with Lando, letting him talk you down from buying the little trinket of the week you’ve fixated on, and the next he’s saying that Max is in love with you, saying it like it’s a truth, and then moving on as if he hasn’t just tilted your world on its axis.

And then, before you know it, you’re banging on Max’s front door trying to figure out if it’s true or not.

Trying to figure out if your best friend is in love with you.

“Max! Open the door.”

He doesn’t.

You honestly don’t know if you want him to, or what you’re going to do when he does. Or if he even will, Max doesn’t know you’re here and you don’t even know if he’s home.

You’re just about ready to search for the spare key, the one you told him to hide in the firehose down the hallway because having a fake rock in front of his door makes no sense when he lives in an apartment building, when the door is flung open and a very grumpy looking Max, headset in hand, is giving you just about the most fed-up, unimpressed, stare you’ve seen in your life.

“Are you in love with me?” You can’t help it, the words foreign on your tongue but there’s an urgency to get them out and into the space in between you. You’re so desperate to hear him say it back.

Max blinks at you, bewildered at your words. You can see the gears turning in his head trying to work out what you just said and if you’re being honest you don’t know if you should be offended at the fact that the answer isn’t an immediate yes.

His brow furrows and his lips purse, “what?”

A beat passes, and then another, and then the idiot actually has the audacity to close the door.

You roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it you know that he knows that you’re doing it. As you push the exasperation out of your lungs you knock again.

“Max, nuh-uh, that is not going to work, open the door and answer my question.”

Nothing.

You bang your fist on the door one more time for good measure, “Max, you know I know where your spare key is and we both know that I’ll let myself in if necessary.”

It’s true and he knows it.

There have been many nights where you’ve verged on the edge of too far gone and walked from the club to his apartment. Nights where you didn’t want the fun to end so instead of going home you go to Max’s where you can cuddle and coo at Jimmy and Sassy and sit around in comfy clothes and watch as Max putters around doing whatever it was he was doing before you came over.

It’s true. He knows it. But still, he doesn’t open the door.

You sigh and softly thump your forehead against Max’s front door, through the absence of your knocking you can hear his nervous shuffling on the other side. The inquisitive meows from the cats, the faint scrape of the peephole cover as Max checks to see if you’re still there, if you’re still waiting for him.

You would wait for him for forever, but that’s just for you to know really.

Max opens the door again, just the barest amount. Just enough so his eyes, wide and disbelieving can lock onto yours.

They’re so blue, you don’t know how you never noticed it before, so classically storybook blue that you’re really starting to wonder if this is all some kind of weird dream where you’re standing at his doorstep begging to be loved by him, like some kind of cheesy romcom star. Because after all, aren’t you just a girl standing in front of a guy?

“You’re in love with me.”

The words stretch the impossible distance between the two of you. Even when he’s halfway around the globe he’s never felt this far away.

And still, somehow, you feel too close to him. Like somehow all the other versions of you and him have been false proxies to what you’re reaching for right now. Like all of a sudden, somehow, he’s been molded into your every contour of your soul and you don’t want anything else

The door edges open a little wider.

“Are you asking me that or are you telling me?”

He’s stalling, you both know it. But, you can’t really bring yourself to do more than give him a fondly smile and roll your eyes at him. Because you know, if the roles were reversed, if he was the one throwing pebbles like some kind of suave Dutch romeo, demanding to know if you were in love with him, you would be doing the same thing.

“You and I both know how much you like being told what to do.” With a sigh Max opens the door to his apartment a little wider once more to let you in, “and yet, you’re still here telling me to open my door.”

You can’t really fault him for that one can you?

You make your way to the living room where you settle down on your spot on the couch while Max flits around the living room. Sassy is meowing at Max, desperate for a taste of the outside she only ever gets when the front door opens, and even though he knows she’s not going to make a run for it he still takes the time to half-heartedly shoo her away.

Max does this, dragging his feet, until both of the cats have curled up next to you on the couch and it is only then that he makes his way over to you. Coming to stand behind the armrest on his side of the couch, putting a little too much distance between the two of you for you to not feel spurned by him.

You can hear it in silence between you, you can feel it in the way your body seems to ache from having him in the ways you have him now and not in the ways you want to have him.

You’re not ready to have this conversation.

There’s a part of you that almost wants to say nevermind and forget that you even said anything in the first place. But deep down you know that the two of you have been putting on this elaborate dog and pony show for far too long. You’re only delaying the inevitable.

“So,” you say, nervously running your fingers over the fabric of the couch. “Is it true?”

You try to catch his eye as you say it, not only to try to make sure he doesn't chicken out but to see the reaction he gives. You want to see his soul and know that he means whatever he says.

But Max doges your gaze at every move in a way that makes him look like a kicked puppy. And you’re not really sure what it means but you can feel the way the dynamic has shifted. All of a sudden the two of you are on shaky ground, not sure where you stand with each other. Even though two hours earlier you would have called him your best friend with your entire heart.

“Well?”

“Please,” he says your name, strained and with a weight to it that you don’t quite want to acknowledge, “don’t make me say it.”

You’re not above begging, you really aren’t, but something about the way he sounds makes you falter. Just a little.

“Max,” you say his name softly, “I think you and I both know what your answer is going to be.”

“Then why do you need to hear it so bad?” His words bite, tinged with an anger that you know he doesn't really mean. “So, I can say it back!” Your words match the sharpness in his and you can see how much they throw Max off kilter.

He blinks at you and then rocks on his feet, first a step forward and then a step back like he’s blown away by the force of what you said. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

You cross your arms and shrug your shoulders, “it was a personal issue.”

“You being in love with me kind of also involves me.”

You really don’t want to admit that he’s right on with that one.

You huff and shrug your shoulders again, “well it goes both ways, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I asked first,” Max shoots back.

You groan at his response and launch yourself up towards Max in a play attempt to strangle him. “Argh, you’re so!” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you slump against him, head resting in the spot where his shoulder meets his neck, “God I hate you.”

Max laughs underneath you, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist, “you evidently don’t.”

“You're so silly,” you sigh, tilting your head up to look at him. "You want to hear me say it so bad."

Your nose nearly brushes against his, he’s so close you think you could count every single one of his eyelashes if you tried.

Max makes a noise that’s somewhere between exasperated and surprised and you know that you’re toeing the line with your teasing

You always know when to give in when it comes to him.

“Okay, yes, I love you! I love you,” you say, “do you love me?”

“Yeah, I do,” Max says as he moves to cradles your jaw in his hands. “I love you.”

You grin, “good. Now kiss me please.”

And he does. He does and it feels like all the cliche things people say. It feels like coming home, it feels like fireworks are going off in the background, it feels like you were meant to be, that he was made for you just as much as you were made for him.

And you just know. You know that there can never be anyone else but him. That there was a version of you before Max and now there’s going to be a version of you that’s with Max, but there’s never going to be a you after Max.

“I love you.” Softer, quieter this time.

You don’t dare look him in the eye, instead choosing to press your cheek against his and stare out the window of his apartment. Your gaze settles somewhere in the distance as you try to memorize the feel of his body pressed up against yours.

You curl your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging absentmindedly as you say, “I’m glad that worked out, I didn’t even know you were home.”

He pulls away from you to fix you with a look that is so quintessentially Max, “you have my location on your phone, you’re always stalking me,” he says, punctuating his words with little jabs to your shoulder.

It’s true, and you honestly don’t know why you didn’t try to check his location in the first place, your logic getting lost somewhere in the panic of knowing that he loved you.

“Mhmm.” You shrug noncommittally, trying very hard to ignore the rushing feeling of warmth in your chest that comes with the realization that Max was so ingrained in your life and you in his from the start.

You try not to think about the fact your toothbrush sits next to his in his bathroom, about the fact that your hand automatically gravitates to his favorite spoon in your cutlery drawer, the one you can identify solely based on the weight of it in your hand. You try very hard to think about how you couldn’t separate the love from the friendship.

It was always gonna be you and Max.

There’s a silence between you for a moment. You try to match your breath to his and let the sounds of outside filter through your ears. And for a moment you can hear how the rest of the world keeps turning, even when your world has stopped spinning on its axis.

“So, what now?” Max asks, turning his head to press kisses to your hairline, his hand squeezing your waist. You can feel his nose brush against your temple as he makes his way down, lips featherlight on your skin. The intimacy of it makes your blood sing with electricity.

You pull “Mhmm, you could take me to bed?”

It��s half serious, half a joke. You’ve waited so long to have Max like this that now that you finally do you want him in all ways possible. But still, there’s some young and girlish part of you that wants it to be special.

Max pretends to think about it for a little bit and it’s so impossibly silly that you have to resist the urge to strangle him again for it, “it’s three in the afternoon, I think it’s a little early for sleep.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, stop being a smartass.”

Max smiles, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “Well,” he says, “how about I send you home so you can get all nice and pretty for me and then I’ll come pick you up and take you to a nice dinner, hmm?”

You flush, not just from the way he pours honey, slow and sweet, into your ear, but from the way it feels like this was always meant to be. Like you were always meant to have this, always meant to have him.

“And then,” he says, dropping your hand to pull you in by your belt loops so your hips are press flush against his, “after dinner, that’s when I’ll take you to bed.”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #mv1 fic #mv33 fic #mv1 x you #mv33 x you #max verstappen #mv1 #mv33 #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic

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inchidentalmeowmeow · 2 days

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Babies 🥹

Max and Charles knowing each other since they were literal tater tots (5 according to Max) is blowing up on twitter again, so friendly reminder that these two both had a spiderman phase growing up as well ❤️💙

#did u think they were joking when they said they knew each other basically their whole lives #ngl kudos to max for surviving gremlin toddler charles cuz we all know that boi bites #look at his lil face going 😼#maybe thats why max remembers the helmet #its the trauma 🤣#lestappen #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc #cl16 #max verstappen #1633 #ferrari #mv33 #also #i know Charles did it before but #BRING BACK SPIDEY HELMETS AGAIN PLS I LOVE IT SM

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lestappenthings · 2 days

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Do y'all remember this? this iconic photo and interaction. So

that's Max right there.

And people from Twitter have brought things to my attention like the fact that Max and Charles knew eachother since they were FIVE. fucking five years old. that's like 20 years together

Am i late to the party? omg this changes soooooo many things. i thought they knew each other from back when they were 12 or 13. but it was 5. omg they've known eachother forever. they've been together forever.

also the "inchident" race where charles won? that was the race that made that man leave Max at the gas station. no wonder max was mad for years 😭

#formula one #formula 1 #charles leclerc #max verstappen #charles leclerc x max verstappen #cl16 #mv1 #mv33 #lestappen #lestappen lore #omg #somebody save me

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cheriladycl01 · 3 days

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I need to go! No you need to race! - Max Verstappen x SwedishOlympicHockey! Reader

Plot: You get hurt during a hockey match at the Nationals and Mad Max makes a return for all the right reasons!

Credit to mverstappenn for the GIF

Usually yours and Max's timetable linked up, you'd be training or doing your tournaments from Monday to Wednesday which Max would join you on before you left in his jet with him to wherever his race was that weekend.

But this week you had a national tournament which was on a Saturday, Sunday where Max was in the world. It was race day for him, and he was using one of the televisions to watch your tournament being streamed.

He couldn't understand any of it, where it was in Swedish so he just watched on with some of the mechanics who knew you and were rooting for you.

It was a good game and you guys were winning, absolutely tearing up the hockey field of the stadium you guys were in. Every time you scored, everyone watching cheered and Max had a big grin on his face when it zoomed in on your face yelling in a smile.

He always found it funny when you smiled as you wore a mouth guard that made your cheeks look puffy.

But things took a turn, it was about 20 minutes until the end of your game and an hour before the race started. All the mechanics were crowed around the TV watching until one of the girls in the opposing team swung their stick up, just as another tripped you up causing the base of the stick to smash into your face.

Max's hand came up to cover his mouth and 'oooooo's' flowed around from the mechanics realizing what just happened.

"Is she okay?" one of them said.

"I could hear something break!" another admitted.

Max watched as a few girls helped you to stand, but it was hard your nose was streaming blood down your face and the knock had clearly made you a little fuzzy.

Max was frowning gripping his fists as he watched the girl who hit you argue with the ref and medics who came out. She was pretty much shouting while you held your nose to try and stop the blood flow coming out.

You were escorted off the pitch and Max immediately went to his phone hounding you with messages asking if you were okay.

When that didn't work he proceeded to blow up your fathers phone who had been at the match in person and would be with you, which also didn't work.

He was so caught up with trying to get in contact with you that he didn't see Christian come up to him.

"Max?" Christian asks tentatively having heard what happened from the mechanics.

"I need to go!" Max exclaims looking up still having no word from your family on how you are doing.

"No, you need to race!" Christian says looking to his watch which showed it wasn't long before he needed to get in the car.

"I can't get in contact with her though, and what if something happens when I'm racing and she needs me!" he admits angrily raising his voice at his team principle.

"Max, calm down!" Christian says, his voice going a little gruffer.

"NO! I need to know shes okay!" he shouts and everyone can tell he's getting madder by the second. He only ever got like this when he was younger and someone crashed into him, he didn't have as well a hold on his emotions back then than he did now. But that was slowly slipping.

He was arguing back and forth with Christian until his phone rang. It was your contact number.

He didn't answer straight away frozen in shock from your number being up there.

"Schat?" he asks as he holds his phone to his ear.

"läckerbit" you tease knowing he hated that nickname.

"Are you okay?" he asks and you can tell he's worried from the tense and strain in his voice.

"Focus on the race, I'm fine and you'll see me soon" you smile into the phone making loads of kissy noises to him before he sighs nodding. You reassure him before you hang up turning to the nurse who was coming back with the x-rays of you nose.

"Yeah, it's definitely broken!" she sighs showing you making ou sigh too.

"Oooo and you have a mild concussion!" she smiles kindly making you laugh a little.

After the race and his podium, Max rushed as quickly as his jet provided to get to the hospital in Sweden you were being helped in.

He tried to sleep on the flight but was far too nervous to the point where he was pacing up and down the free walkway in the middle of the jet until the airhost made him take a seat handing him a beer to calm his nerves.

When he arrived to your private room in the hospital to see you scrolling through your phone he didn't fully take in your appearance at first.

He didn't note the greasy hair, or the bags under your eyes or the stuff helping fix your nose.

"Hey Schat!" he sighs and your head snaps up you look at him in disgust and shock.

"No! Don't look at me!" you cry pulling his hoodie up over you head and face to cover everything. And he couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. Hiding from him as if he hadn't seen you at your worst.

"Why are you hiding from me Princess" he laughs coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed after having taking a picture of your embarrassment.

"Mmmmm i look awful!" you say peeking at him through the hood.

"I think you look beautiful, like always" he grins, kissing you cheek not wanting to risk kissing your lips and numbing his nose with yours.

y/user

Liked by maxverstappen1 and redbullracing

y/user: This weekend in order between my hockey competition and Max’s race.

Image 1 - me and my girlie frejalarsson getting ready for battle (we had a national tournament)

Image 2 - Max at his race to me tacking a hockey stick to the face 😳 (my nose was bleeding pretty bad)

Image 3 - Max leaving after his race on Sunday to fly to me in Sweden to visit me in the hospital. (I looked awful and was embarrassed)

Image 4 - going with Max to Monaco to get cuddles from Jimmy and Sassy

It’s been eventful to say the least!

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redbullracing: get well soon y/n!

maxverstappen1: now I know how you feel when I get into a crash! Scariest moment of my life! So glad you are okay! 🥰

-> y/user: Love you Käresta 🤭🫶🏼

landonorris: get well soon y/n! Need you in the club asap 🍾🎈

-> y/user: i broke my nose Lando …

-> landonorris: so you can’t party with a broke nose? LAME!

-> maxverstappen1: I’m breaking your nose next buddy if you aren’t careful ❗️

-> landonorris: 😦

Instagram Story Caption: Lego Date 🧱

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

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aquamarinemoonlit · 3 days

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it’s time to chew some glass

#max verstappen #THIS IS HIS SONG #i’m absolutely devastated with these edits #mv33 #ts ttpd #ttpd #the tortured poets department #who’s afraid of little old me #formula 1 #formula racing #f1 drivers #formula one #f1 #red bull f1 #red bull racing

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scrollonso · 19 hours

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if lewis hamilton was a 6 time world champion in 2021 and winning wouldve tied him with michael schumacher they wouldn't have robbed him of his win. if he wasn't going to make history with that win and beat michaels record he would've gotten it. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#ever day i wake up mad about 2021 #take me back #so i can kill everyone #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lh44 #mercedes #michael schumacher #max verstappen #mv33

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fernandopiastri28 · 1 day

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insomnia (what if you never come back?) ~ dr3 x mv1

Max doesn't know how to cope without Daniel anymore now that he's at RB- turns out Daniel can't either.

insomnia ‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅

Burning my eyes red Not slept for weeks Testing your torment My future is bleak Lost in the moment With no words to speak …. Am I a fool Waiting for you? What if you never come back?

________________________________________

Staying up far too late into each and every single night isn't a new aspect of Max’s life. He can’t remember a time in his life when he’s slept peacefully, allowing his mind to switch off and his body to rest. It’s a habit picked up from being so alert of living with his father, worrying that he’d sleep through his father doing something seriously dangerous to someone in the family- especially his mother. He wasn’t sure when the word ‘Insomniac’ became something he called himself, associated himself with, but it’s definitely from far before his f1 debut in 2015- meaning that the hourly hours before a race are either spent secretly working out, gaming, or wallowing in the silence like he is now.

He sits on the edge of his bed, red eyes and a mind full of torment. He has a warmed Red Bull in his hand, condensation long dripped off of his wrist and onto his thighs- a reminder of how long he’s been sat in this very position, lost in the moment. He’s sat hunched over, the thin fabric of his team supplied polo stretching across the length of his back.

In his peripheral vision, he sees a sheen of light hitting into the glass cabinet full of bits of his trophy collection. His eyes are transfixed on it, despite how it hurts his eyes to focus on a spot he’s hardly looking at. His eyes slip up to where there’s a trophy from the 2017 Japanese grand prix- the podium that he and Daniel had shared at his elder teammate’s final year at Red Bull. He feels a tense throb of reminiscence as he remembers how they’d stood up on the top steps together, covering one another with champagne.

It was the last time they would ever do it together, instead of against each other.

His thumb slides down the wet length of the can, tipping the tin back to allow the last few acidic droplets to spill down his throat. He crunches the can in his palm, the edges splitting to cut into his skin. “Fuck,” He hisses, tossing the crushed metal across the floor where it hits into his desk. He rubs the cut against the soft fabric of his shorts, a red patch appearing in lieu.

The pain isn’t unfamiliar, verging on sparking memories of the exact feeling from being a child. Young Max panicking that he’d dropped a glass, quickly picking up the shattered material into his soft hands, the jagged edges piercing his skin as he would hurriedly try and remove the evidence of breaking something. His mother would tend to his wounds after cleaning off the bloody skin, promising to not inform his father of the event.

He compartmentalises the memory once again, focusing in on the now. Pressing the injury further into the cotton over his thigh, he stands up, walking over to the cabinet he had been previously mindlessly admiring. Two of his fingers press against the glass just in front of the Japan trophy, two dirty finger prints appearing as a result. Vivid flashes of how cold the fizzy liquid had been over his sweating body, how it had dribbled down Daniel’s chin as he had greedily guzzled it down after spraying the majority onto the dutch man.

Even more vividly, Max remembers how it had tasted inside Daniel’s mouth when the two men were hidden away in the motorhome, lips attached to each other’s, skin to skin. He drops his head in shame, hot red flush spreading across his pale skin. He smears the two fingers across his dry lip, relishing in their slight chill from being against the glass. It’s near enough to how Daniel had felt; cold, wet lips on Max’s desperate and needy ones.

After enough time staring down at his bare feet, he shuffles away from the cabinet of memories, his uncut hand wrapping around the door handle. He heads out of his bedroom in his apartment, only the dim illumination of a shop outside lighting up his corridor. He needs a drink, almost desperately so. Being back in Monaco means he could go out with his usual group, but it’s not quite the time of year where all of his non-f1 friends still have work, and especially on a wednesday night- no one’s going to be able to go drinking. So that leaves him with the other drivers who also live in Monaco.

He scratches Charles off his internal list of possible candidates, knowing he’s off somewhere in Portugal with Alex. Lando could be good, but he’s pretty sure the brit is off in Bali or somewhere else random on his winter break world tour. Sure, Max likes Fernando, but he’s not really the type of guy he’d invite out drinking- the same with Lewis. Checo’s with his kids, barely gracing social media throughout the holidays, the same with Bottas and Hulkenberg.

Once he’s reached the end of his mental invite list, only a single name remains. One that Max knows will reply no matter the time of day- Daniel. Max reaches into his back pocket, using a single hand to type a message away to the Australian. He clicks send then ignores it, returning to his room to search his closet for something more club appropriate then the ‘team-merch-pyjamas’ he has on currently. It’s not until he’s pulling his shirt over his head that he feels a vibration shoot up his arm.

‘Which club?’ Daniel shoots back. Three dots of an impending message bounce below the text for a few moments until they disappear, leaving the sole message there. Max types back, mentioning the closest club to him. He doesn’t want to make a huge night out of this, just get enough that whenever he gets home he can crash out and sleep well into tomorrow.

Well, today, given the clock is currently reading 00.33

He sets his phone down on his desk, shoving his shorts down over his knees until they pool around his ankles. He steps out of them, selecting a pair of skin tight black jeans and an equally fitted black tee, the word ‘daddy’ printed across it in thick white lettering- sure to get a laugh out of Daniel. He toes on a pair of sneakers and slips his tag heuer over his hand, clasping it around his thin wrist.

He shoves a white red bull hat over his hair, heading out the door once Daniel announces with a text that he’s just arrived at the club. Max sends back a text to assure him that he’ll only be five minutes. A perk of Monaco being so small- you’re basically ‘five minutes’ from anything if you live in a general enough area. He sneaks down the front stairs of his apparent building, staying relatively light on his feet so as to not disturb anyone who lives in the rooms he’s walking past.

He hears Daniel before he sees him, heading into the thick of the illuminated dance floor. The RB driver is clad in a beige t-shirt, a design from his own brand enchanté, and a pair of white lounge shorts. He already has an orange cocktail in hand, his opposite arm up in the air. “Maxxxxieeeee,” His thick Australian accent calls out to the younger man. It dawns on Max how long it had actually taken him to get here because Daniel is far from sober, likely having been here for far longer than five minutes as Max had promised him.

“Danny,” He gives him a grin, brushing tightly past a few other heavily inebriated clubbers to get to his friend. “You’ve been well?” Daniel replies with a huge grin, lazily slinging an arm around his shoulder, a nod into his neck to confirm.

“Peachy,” His breath is hot and reeks of tequila- far from Max’s ideal choice of a drink. He slips out from under his grip, stumbling past a few other people to get to the bar- ordering a gin tonic. The bartender slides it across the table to him and he greedily gulps it down, ordering a second one almost immediately as the bottom of the glass makes contact with the bar again.

The overdramatic thwack the glass makes triggers another memory, the noise is an exact replica of what he would hear almost each and every day. His father pouring himself a drink as he would sit Max down in front of him, making the young boy explain each and every mistake he’d made in either a race or just while ‘casually’ karting. In reality, karting when your father is Jos Verstpane can never be casual. Those conversations almost always ended in gulped tears and slammed glasses- often creating cracks in all the cups in the house.

The feeling of the cold surface around his new drink against his fingertips brings him back to reality. He takes his time with this one, taking longer and more gradual sips. He squeezes back over to where Daniel is still ‘dancing’ away to the music, more so swaying his body in the most off rhythm moves and swinging his arms above himself, luckily his once full cup is now disregarded off somewhere else. “Maaaaxxx!” He calls out again, regaining sight of the reason he’s here in the first place. The two fall back into their places next to each other, just like back in 2017.

The hour progresses, flicking over to 1am and nearing 2 am. Both of their throats are dry from continuous singing along to the music that is blaring all throughout the small and overheating area, dancing around to distract from the discomfort of their cotton shirts becoming saturated with sweat and each other's spilt drinks.

“I’ve missed you,” Max tilts his head down ever so slightly, the gap between the height seeming larger than usual as Daniel’s posture slumps down. He licks the corner of his mouth, his wet tongue peaking out which catches the eye of Daniel who’s almost shamelessly staring. “At red bull,” He clarifies, keeping it a strictly friendly moment. It’s partially the truth- he does miss him as a teammate, because despite how much he really does like Checo, Daniel had a sense of fun that no one could ever match.

Daniel mimics the lip-lick the other man had just previously done, his pink tongue wiping along the length of his bottom lip. “I miss you moreee Maxi-Taxi,” His voice is thick and oozes out like honey, all perfect and heavily sitting in Max’s ears. Daniel sucks in his cheeks, leaning closer and closer until his hooked nose is pressing up against the other man’s curved one.

A set of soft and inviting eyes meet those brooding, pale ocean ones, a clear softening occurring as Daniel’s eyes bore into them. “You’re my favourite teammate- always,” He brings a hand to the Dutch man’s chest, the back of his hand gently smacking into the breast of his black top. “Lando- god- he's such a kid, mate,” He shakes his head, laughing mainly to himself. “Great fun but.. Yeah, immature,”

Max scoffs, draining the last of his drink before setting it down onto the nearest flat surface to him. “Like you aren’t,” He grins, a matching one occurring on the Australian’s face.

“Hardly,” He rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue into a wet squelching nose. “He’s only somewhat.. ehhh, ‘normal’ now that he’s got Piastri keeping him sane,” Max can get that, making a quick mental comparison between the two young McLaren drivers until he realises Daniel is still speaking about his teammates. “Jean-Éric, nice guy, kinda forgettable,” He rubs a hand across the width of his neck which Max oogles out, trying to seem discreet.

“Kvyat,” Max nudges him, a wide smirk painting across his face. Daniil Kvyat, the man who Max took the red bull seat from back in 2015. He’d also taken Daniil’s recently ex-girlfriend- Kelly Piquet, daughter of 3x world champion, Nelson Piquet. The romance had been short lived however, especially cut short after Max had enjoyed his en makeout session with his then teammate, now the man in front of him, more than he’d ever enjoyed kissing Kelly.

“Yes,” He lets out a mix between a sigh and a laugh, “Daniil Kvyat- fucking guy hates you,” Dan whacks him in the shoulder, pushing a sharp exhale out of his mouth. He waves over a bartender for yet another drink as Daniel continues his seemingly never ending list. “Huuulkennbergggg,” He wheezes, never forgetting his dramatised rendition of pronouncing his ex-teammates last name. “Ehhh, Ocon, and nowww… tsunoda,” He’s so clearly drunk given the way all of his words are blending into each other and he’s becoming more painfully difficult to understand.

“Quite the list,” Max muses, laughing absentmindedly to himself sliding a hand up his own shirt to separate the soaked fabric from his abdomen. When he’s drunk, he hardly gets sad or tired- he just finds absolutely everything incredibly comedic. “I’ve had, ehh, also Jean-Éric,” He remembers, a memory of a short lived three races with the French driver. “Kvyat for same amount. Sainz for.. my whole season at Toro- yeah?,” Daniel nods, sipping away at some drink he managed to secretly acquire throughout their conversation. “You- the longest amount,” He furrows his eyebrows, struggling to remember the two exact drivers he’d had in between Daniel’s departure at the end of 2018 and Checo’s arrival in 2021.

“Gasly and Albon,” Daniel interrupts his thoughts, his eyes far from looking at where Max is deep in thought. He’s distracted, distracted by the younger fiddling away under his drenched shirt. Max lets out a hum of remembrance, his mind clicking into a timeline displaying just how long he’d race with each man for.

“It’s really hot in here,” He murmurs, tucking two fingers into his t-shirt collar, pulling it away from his skin to help cool himself down. The two of them come to a consensus of heading out, already having paid means they can slip out into the night as soon as they’ve agreed to leave. The rest of the city is quiet, acting according to being near 2 am. Daniel slings his arm back over the span of Max’s shoulder, holding himself up as they stumble down the cobblestone streets.

“You smell like shit,” Daniel wrinkles his nose up, wiping a thick sheen of sweat off his forehead, “very strongly of alcohol,” He muses, slipping a hand down into his pocket as his free one finds its place on the small of Max’s back.

“Happens when you drink,” The younger murmurs, pushing his nose into the base of Daniel’s throat, pushing a gurgled sound out of him. He swallows thickly before aimlessly mouthing at the spot of skin just above the hem of his collar. “You taste like sweat,” He mumbles out, a twisted grimace coating his expression.

Daniel brings the hand from his pocket back out to slide into the hair on the back of Max’s head, fingers tangling up in the messy and dampened blond strands. “Like you don’t?” He taunts, tugging back on the hair so Max’s looking up at him from the slightly crouched angle he’s standing at.

Neither of them realised at what point of the night they suddenly became desperate to be in this position, the exact one they’d been in back in 2017. A few experimental times later in that year, a few in 2018- once as a ‘goodbye’ for the Australian in 2022. Nothing had been like the post podium one yet- not until now.

“Try,” Max challenges him, sticking his tongue out ever so slightly. “Taste,” His words are beginning to become fuzzy in his head, a weird static trailing along with every noise that travels past his ears. He can’t tell if this is a good idea, or the worst he’ll ever make- but he wants to make it regardless.

Daniel looks down at Max’s nose, studying the curvature of it. Back up to his eyes, the deep and cloudy ocean blue that engulfs his pupils. The wispy and dark curls that frame those eyes, how they clump together with perspiration. His red lips, wet with a mix of alcohol and spit. Fuck, how good they look right now.

“Yeah,” Daniel nods, resting his forehead against Max’s. They breath out against each other’s faces for a few moments, both waiting for the other to take initiative and jump the bullet to get the end product they’re both keen for.

Daniel takes it in the end, taking his fingers higher up against Max’s scalp to cradle the back of his head, connecting their mouths finally. He was right, he tastes like bitter gin and salty sudate. Harsh around the edges and intoxicating the longer the kiss lasts. If Daniel wasn’t before this, he definitely is now. Max lets a moan pass into Dan’s mouth who eagerly engulfs it, desperate for more of those same noises. “You’re not mine, shouldn’t have you like this,” He hums as Max whines needily for more.

“Danny,” Max has to forcibly detach his mouth from the older man’s, a thumb pressing into his Adam's apple while his remaining fingers splay across the back of his neck. “Neuken- you’re all I want, I’m all yours'' He laughs, licking straight back into his mouth.

“Fuck you, Max,” Daniel murmurs straight back to him, wrapping two arms around his waist, hoisting him closer to him as he pins him into a wall nearby. “You let me go for so long thinking I was second to Leclerc- but I was always first, wasn’t I?” He taunts, a thumb playing with his bottom lip as he kisses as his top one. “You don’t fucking want him?” Max nods, confused as to why Charles is being brought into the conversation.

“Not at all, just you,” He promises, his huge hands squeezing into Daniel’s narrow hips as he flips them over, effectively shoving Daniel against the stone wall instead. “Why would I want him?”

“I see how you look at him,” He looks up at him, his eyes transfixed on the layer of sheen decorating the dutch man’s forehead. “Like you wanna fuck him,” He grins stupidly, “like how you’re looking at me right now,” Max clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he forcibly kisses Daniel again,

“I don’t do anything with him though,” He sneers, “I do things with you,” His stare softens, his thumb swiping down along one of Daniel’s tanned cheeks. “I only want you,” He whispers against his parted lips. His adam's apple bobs up and down, a long swallow accompanying it.

“What’s that make us?” His Australian accent is further amplified by his intoxication. Max twists his lips, shrugging at the question. Neither of them really know. If this means they should date, be friends who hook up whenever they want, or just never do this again- the lines between them fade into one another.

“Just mine,” He tilts his head, narrowing his eyebrows. “And all yours- we’re just each other’s,” Daniel agrees, a signature Danny-Ric smile spreading across his face.

“I can deal with that,” He pushes him away, wrapping an arm around his waist as they stumble down the same street, the dim lights of the street lamps illuminating the sides of their faces as they silently admire one another.

#daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #max verstappen x daniel ricciardo #dr3 #mv1 #mv33 #dr3 x mv1 #formula1 #f1 #formula one #f1 2024 #red bull racing #lando norris #zayn malik #zayn song

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afterglowsainz · 11 hours

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fresh out the slammer | max verstappen

summary: after you broke up with your boyfriend, you join your friends for a night out in monaco and decide it's a good idea to invite max

warnings: fluff, mentions of breakups, drinking

word count: 1.8k

a/n: giggling and kicking my feet at the thought of a situationship with max

the tortured athletes department series

it’s been one month since you and your ex-boyfriend of one year broke up. you couldn’t say you were heartbroken because you really weren’t, like most men do at some points in their lives, he was disappointing you long before you broke up with him, so in a way, you mourn your relationship while you were still in it. now you just felt a bit lonelier than before, but you had definitely moved on.

on a saturday night, you had a few friends over to your monaco apartment for dinner and a very well deserved gossip session. you told them all about your breakup with your most recent boyfriend and how you were feeling almost too good.

“guys, what if we go out?” one of your best friends suggests. “a friend of mine is having a party at this club downtown and is supposed to be this very exclusive thing.” you thought about it for a few seconds after agreeing. it has been a while since you went out with your friends, especially in monaco where everything can happen. you got ready in less than ten minutes since you already were put together and joined your friends in the car on your way to the club.

during the quick ride you check your instagram and saw that your friend max posted a story. you and max have had this weird relationship for years, were you’re both really close friends who’ve also liked each other forever, but none of you had actually made a move on each other (except for that one time, but you’ve never talked about it). you clicked on his profile picture and the story popped up, a picture of him and his friends playing fifa on his couch. you smiled and liked the photo, putting your phone away.

once you got to the club your friend led you all to the entrance and when she gave her name to the bouncer they let you all in. the place was completely packed, but she took you all to a place on the top that was a bit less full and looked more like that exclusive event your friend was talking about. soon enough, alcohol was running through your system and your body was moving along with the blasting music at the club when a thought almost made you stop on your tracks. you looked for your best friend all over the place and ran over to her when you saw her near the bar.

“hey.” you call out loudly over the music.

“hey.” she smiled at you. “having fun?” she asks and you nod.

“can i tell you this idea i just had?” she takes a sip from her drink and nods. “would it be a good idea if i invited max?” her eyes widen with surprise and gives you a knowing smile.

“max like max verstappen?” she asks. “like your max?” you nod again, this time more euphorically.

“yes, my max.” you took a sip of your drink and cleared your throat. “he’s in monaco, so why not? the worst that can happen is he says no.” you shrug, like the idea of him not wanting to see you didn’t kill you a bit inside.

“go for it!” she exclaims. “absolutely, yes, invite him over.”

you smiled and headed over to the balcony, relieved to feel the cold air of the monaco night hit your skin, cooling you down. you took out your phone and hover over max’s contact for a moment, wondering if you should text or call first. you decided to call since that would be much more immediate. you listen to the phone ringing for a few moments and when you thought it would send you to voicemail, you heard max’s familiar voice.

“hello.” he answers.

“heyyy.” you greet him with a smile that he couldn’t see.

“y/n.” he calls your name with happiness. “how are you?”

“i’m good, how are you?” you ask. “what are you up to?”

“oh, i’m good, yeah.” he says. “just hanging out with some friends. you?”

“i’m in monaco.” you say looking at the stars. “actually, i’m at this club, i was wondering if you wanted to come? you can bring your friends, my friends are here too.”

you waited for him to answer so long you thought the line had dropped.

“what club are you in?” you gave him the name and heard some loud voices in the background. “okay, we’ll be there in twenty.”

you smiled at the sky and bit your lip.

“okay.” you answered and finished the call.

when you got back inside you met your friends again and let them know that max was coming with his friends. twenty minutes later, you were still dancing in the middle of the place when someone tapped your shoulder with tenderness. when you turned around you saw those blue eyes that you loved staring back at you.

“hello, you.” you smiled at him and he returned it.

“long time no see.” he said, giving you a small kiss on the cheek. you felt yourself flustered and were grateful that the place was mostly dark with a few colored lights.

“you should’ve told me when you got here, i would’ve gone outside to get you.” you frowned, ignoring the blush on your face.

“i wanted it to be a surprise.” he defends himself.

“it can’t be a surprise if i invited you.” you fought back and he placed his arm around your shoulders.

“you know what i mean.” he clicked his tongue, teasing you.

you spent the next hour dancing, drinking and talking with max. it was like the world around you had disappeared and it was only the two of you left in that club. when you took a quick break from dancing he got close to you and whispered in your ear.

“do you want to go outside?” he asks. you felt yourself blush again but nodded.

he was about to guide you to the balcony but you redirected him to the exit of the club. you stopped briefly to let your friend know that you were leaving with max for a moment so she wouldn’t worry and she just winked at you. you took his hand so you wouldn’t lose him while walking through all the people at the club and once you were outside you dropped his hand, even though you didn’t really wanted to, but the last thing you wanted was to make it uncomfortable for him.

“you wanna take a walk?” he asks while taking his jacket and putting it around your shoulders.

you nod and smile at him, grateful for his jacket. you both start walking along the streets, talking about nothing in particular until he makes the question you knew he wanted to ask all night.

“how’s it going with your boyfriend?” he doesn’t look at you while asking, no matter how much you wanted him to do so.

“we broke up.” you answer dryly.

“oh.” he finally looks at your face for any hint of sadness, but there is none. you’re not sad about it.

“how’s it going with your girlfriend?” you ask now, remembering the gorgeous redhead he was dating a few months ago.

it was on one of those few occasions both of you were in monaco at the same time. you were leaving from café de paris with your best friend and you crossed him at the entrance, next to him was one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen, holding his hand. you remembered she introduced herself as his girlfriend and your heart skipped a beat at the word, even though you had no right to feel anything like that since you had a boyfriend yourself. you said your goodbyes and he did too and that was the last time you saw him.

“what was her name again?” you asked. “i can’t remember.”

“we broke up.” max ignored your last question, answering the first one you asked instead.

“oh.” you frowned, sad for him for whatever reason. maybe it was the alcohol in you bringing out all the emotions. “what happened?”

“it just didn’t work out.” he answers simply, giving you a reassuring smile.

“when did you break up?” you knew you were a bit out of line meddling into his relationship. especially when he didn’t ask you these types of questions about your own breakup, but you couldn’t help it.

“a few months ago.” he said, completely unfazed by your curiosity. “actually, it was the day you met her.”

“at the café de paris?” you questioned with surprise and he nodded. “why would you break up with your girlfriend there? it’s such a lovely place.”

he wanted to laugh at your remark, but bit his lip instead.

“i saw you.” he whispered and you felt like all the air was leaving your lungs.

“you broke up with your girlfriend because you saw me?” you ask incredulously and he nods again. “why would you do that?”

“why do you think, y/n?”

he holds your eyes for a few seconds until you turn your head and continue walking. you didn’t answer him and he didn’t say anything else, his words hanging in the air while you got wrapped into a comfortable silence. you were trying to process his train of thought while also processing yours. could his words have such an impact on you? did he feel about you the same way you’ve always felt about him? would he want to try something with you? with each question you asked in your head, you felt yourself leaning more and more into max until the back of your hands brushed each other while walking. he felt so familiar in so many ways.

before you could realize it, you were both outside of your apartment building. did you really walk this much?

“well.” he said, breaking the silence. “i guess this is where i leave you.” he pointed with his chin at the building.

you looked at him for a few seconds, your mind racing ten thousand miles per hour.

“you could stay.” you whisper.

max looked at you, a sparkle in his eyes you knew too well.

“you’re drunk.” he murmured, just like you had. you shook your head and got closer to him, touching the collar of his shirt gently.

“just as much as you.” you were so close you could see every speck of color in his eyes. “i think the walk here sober me up, anyway.” you joke, taking your eyes off of him, fearing that looking at him a second longer would make you do something unexpected.

“are you sure about this?” he took your face between his hands, forcing you to look at him. the beautiful blue of his eyes was now much darker and you fell a little bit more in love just by looking at them.

“of course i’m sure.” your voice low, only for him to hear. “i’ve always been.”

his eyes went from your eyes to your lips, and then back into your eyes.

“come inside.” you ask.

he smiles at you like he just won a championship, taking your hand and pulling you into the building.