Tumgik
#max verstappen oneshot
norrisleclercf1 · 2 months
Note
Mafia Dad Max accidentally snapping at your little one because he was stressed
A/N: Decided to do this with Fabian and Casper again
"Casper, you have to leave Daddy alone when he's working." You whisper, picking up Casper who groans reaching for his father's office door. "Mommy, I want to play with Daddy." Casper whines, holding his toy cars close.
"I know you do baby, but Daddy is in an important meeting and shouldn't be bothered." Casper nods and you place your 5 year old next to Fabian who watches Bluey.
Casper sighs and pushes his cars around, pouting. "Daddy," He whines, Fabian turning to him and cocking his head to the side. "Going to play with Daddy," Casper mumbles, standing up and taking his cars as he walks down the hall and to the closed door.
"Daddy?" Casper opens the door and pokes his head through the slot and sees Max sitting at his desk growling in Dutch. "Daddy? Play?" Max turns and sees Casper and waves him off, not wanting him to walk in further.
Casper huffs and toddles into the room and shoves his cars onto the desk. "Daddy! Play!" Casper yells, Max turns snapping as he shoves the cars off the desk. "Dammit, Casper. No," Max growls. The room grows quiet as Casper eyes grow wide, and filled with water.
"Oh, oh Cassie no." Max whispers and reaches out for his son but Casper screams and runs out of the room, his scream turning into sobs. "Casper?" You round the corner out of the kitchen as your sweet heart of a son runs at you. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" You drop to the floor and pull him into your arms.
"Casper? What happened?" You ask again trying to calm him down. "Daddy!" He screams and hides his face into your shoulder and you sigh just holding him as he cries.
Max steps out of his office, the floor creaking and Fabian pokes his head out and flinches seeing his father and moves standing in front of you and Casper. "Fabby, you don't have to protect us. Daddy won't hurt us." You mummer, Max's heart breaking has he holds the toy cars that Casper loves playing with.
"Fabby, I won't hurt Mommy and Cassie." Max crouches down, but Fabian glares at his father. "Daddy hurt Cassie," Max drops his head and squeezes his eyes shut. "I know I did buddy. But let me talk to Casper." He looks up and you can see the heartbreak in his eyes.
You knew what he was thinking, he just acted like his father would have. "Fabby, go watch Bluey, we're okay." Fabian glares one last time and walks off, Casper sniffles and hides deeper into your hold.
"Casper, baby, I'm so sorry. Daddy, shouldn't have yelled at you. And I feel horrible. We can play cars for however long you want." Max whispers, reaching out for him Casper shies away which breaks Max heart all over again.
"Give it some time," You whisper and Max nods, standing but stops when he feels a small hand hold onto his pant leg. "Cuddle?" Casper asks, and Max doesn't think twice picking up his little boy. "I'm so sorry Cassie," Max buries his head into is sons hair and takes a deep breath and sighs. "I love you, baby."
2K notes · View notes
scuderiahoney · 24 days
Text
Pick You Up
Max Verstappen x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Masterlist
Summary: when Max has one too many gin & tonics, you’re the one who picks (him) up, every time he calls. Word Count: 6.7k
Warnings: alcohol, intoxication, maybe an unhealthy relationship with alcohol??, mentions of Max’s shitty childhood, incorrect taylor swift lyrics
It’s 1am, and your phone is buzzing on the nightstand. You groan and shove your face into the pillow. You were having such a nice dream. Something about an island and a very attractive man. You let the phone ring until it stops, and then you hold your breath. Maybe it was a butt dial. Maybe it’s not what you think.
The buzzing starts again, and you blindly slam your hand onto the nightstand, grabbing for it. You swipe to answer without even looking at the contact. You already know who it is. Or at the very least, who they’re calling you about. It’s never anyone else.
“Max needs a ride,” a friend of his says.
You’re already rolling out of bed. “Yeah. Where?”
You could complain, you suppose, as you pull on a pair of sweatpants and a jacket. You could ask them to find literally anyone else, or beg them to have a designated driver for once, but instead you just slip your shoes on. You rub the sleep from your eyes and grab a Red Bull on the way out the door. Someone sends you an address from a number you don’t even have saved in your phone. Worry claws at your chest.
The truth is, you’ll never complain about Max calling you in the middle of the night, because if he stopped calling you’d worry about who he was relying on. Max is… popular. He’s got a lot of people trying to ride his coattails. He gets invited to events and people buy him drinks and offer him things and then it’s 1am and he’s too drunk to get home on his own. And then he calls you. Or, more often, someone calls you for him.
You pull up in front of the club, and Max is already outside, stumbling on clumsy feet. He lurches towards your car when he sees it, which is a relief, because you hadn’t exactly wanted to get out of the car. You find yourself resenting whoever he was out with for leaving him all alone, but he opens the door and climbs in and you plaster a smile onto your face.
“Hi, schatje,” he slurs, and you muffle a laugh into your shoulder.
“Hi, Maxie,” you say.
This is the only time he calls you things like that. It’s also the only time you can call him Maxie without earning yourself a warning glare, or worse, an elbow to the rib cage. You’ve known him for years, and yet it’s only when he’s wasted that he doesn’t mind the nickname.
“Seatbelt,” you remind him.
He nods and tugs at the belt. You end up having to help him buckle- that happens about 70% of the time. His fingers fumble with the latch as you do so, and he lets out a little huff when you brush his hand away. Once he’s all set, you pat his shoulder lightly and lean back into your seat.
“I’m drunk,” he warns you.
“I know,” you answer.
“So no crazy driving. I don’t want to be sick in your very nice car.”
You laugh and cock your head at him. “This morning you called this car a shitbox.”
He nods. “It is. But it is your shitbox.”
You laugh again, putting the car into drive. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”
He rambles the whole drive to his apartment, about all the people he was out with tonight and what they did and who they did. Drunk Max is a bit of a gossip, and his gossiping to you won’t get him in trouble, so he takes full advantage of it. You listen eagerly the entire time, though you keep your eyes focused on the road. He’s not the most drunk you’ve ever seen him, still too drunk to be in a cab or an Uber by himself but coherent enough that the journey up to his apartment shouldn’t be too difficult. You park your car in his parking lot and climb out.
Max is halfway out of his seat when you come around to meet him. You take his hand and help him the rest of the way up. He stumbles a bit, laughing as you catch him. Then he throws his arm around your shoulder and follows you to the elevator.
His head bumps into yours in the process. You lean into the weight of him, the two of you standing like a badly built lean to. If one of you topples, the other will too. You try not to think about that too much.
You stay the night, the way you always do when this happens. Because the only thing a hungover Max hates more than the sunlight is waking up to an empty apartment. You’ll be there in the morning to take care of him. He’ll promise he won’t do it again.
By this time next week, he’ll be out at a club, and you’ll have the volume on your phone turned up.
…..
The next time someone calls you on Max’s behalf, it’s someone you actually know. It’s 2am this time, and your eyes are closed. You’re drifting in that space between consciousness and dreams. Your ringtone almost becomes a part of a half dream before you realize what it is. You turn the phone over. NoRizzz, it reads. You think Max added the contact for you.
You answer. “Hi, Lando. S’it Max?” You ask.
“I swear to god I lost track of him for one second-“ Lando rushes out.
You pause halfway out of bed, feeling a jolt of worry at the frantic tone in his voice. “Lando?”
“He’s gone, he-“ He sounds panicked. “I turned around and he’s-“
“Did you call him?”
“Of course I called him-“ Lando scoffs. “Look, I wouldn’t be so worried if I hadn’t already been thinking about having you pick him up-“
“Hey, hey, slow down,” you say, though your heart is racing as you head for the door. “Where are you? How long has it been since you lost him?”
“We’re at Jimmyz, it’s been a half hour,” Lando admits. “I didn’t want to bother you, but-“
A half hour is a long time for Max. He could be anywhere in the city right now. He could’ve walked, or taken a cab, or… anything. Sober Max is great at self preservation. Drunk Max is easily persuaded. You’ve used it to your advantage more than you’d like to admit. Not in any bad way, just- Max, sing karaoke with me! Max, come dance with me! Max, we should order pizza!
You head for the front door. “Okay. It’s okay. I’ll come meet you, and then-“
You swing the door open and nearly scream when something heavy tumbles into your apartment. Someone, actually, upon further inspection. It’s Max, lit only by the dim hallway light and a beam from the kitchen light that you always leave on. He’s blinking up at you from the floor, a soft smile on his face. He has his arms wrapped around himself, like he’s cold. His skin is damp with sweat.
“Never mind, I found him,” you say into the phone.
“What? How?” Lando asks, bewildered.
“He was sitting in front of my door,” you answer as you crouch down. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, and Max smiles. “Must’ve taken a cab or something.”
“I walked,” Max admits.
That explains the sweat. That also tells you that Lando has lied to you- Max has been gone much longer than a half hour if he’s made his way here on foot. You choose not to call the other driver out on it, though. You want them to call you about things like this. If you chew him out, Lando will be less likely to do so.
“So he’s okay?” Lando asks.
“He’s fine,” you assure him. “I’ll talk to you later.”
You hang up and then start working on getting Max all the way into the apartment. He’s not much help. You manage to get his legs inside and then you close the door behind him. You’ll work on getting him out of the hallway next. For now, you sit down on the floor next to him.
“You walked here?” You ask.
He nods. “Missed you.”
You snort out a laugh. “You could’ve called me, I would’ve picked you up.”
He shrugs and shuts his eyes. “Didn’t want to bug you.”
“So you camped out in front of my door,” you say.
“Yes. But then you didn’t have to come pick me up.”
“I’ll always pick you up,” you say, brushing your thumb against his temple. “That’s what friends do.”
When he opens his eyes, they’re glassy. Your breath hitches. Max doesn’t get teary often, doesn’t get emotional often. Something aches in your chest. You rub your thumb over his cheekbone. He blinks once, twice, lashes tangled together.
“You okay?” You ask.
“Yeah.” He sounds so small when he says it. “Just. Thanks.”
There are these small moments, when Max shows a vulnerable side. These are the moments you think of when people spread vitriol towards him on the internet and ask how you could possibly be friends with him. They make you love him even more, and they make you resent the adults who were around him when he was growing up.
You’ve seen pictures of little Max, shown to you with funny anecdotes and teasing smiles. But when you look at them, and when you see him like this, you can’t find any of it funny. All you can think of is the other stories you’ve heard about his childhood. All you can wonder is how someone could’ve done those things to him. And then you wonder how despite it all, he ended up with such a kind soul.
Max is the one who brings you soup when you’re sick. He brings you trinkets from every country he goes to- the magnets fill the door of your fridge. Max sends you pictures of dogs he meets on the street even though he’s a cat person. He flies you out to races when you’ve had a bad week and buys you good pasta and better tequila. Max has a heart the size of a whole continent. People keep trying to chip away at it. You hate them for it.
So you take a moment to brush the tears from his cheeks. You don’t ask him why he’s crying, or tell him it’ll be okay. You just sit there on the floor with him in your hallway and wait for him to be ready.
Eventually, you get him up off the floor and drag him into your bedroom. It’ll be better for everyone involved if he gets a good night’s sleep in a real bed. You try to leave the room, but he grabs onto your wrist.
“Stay?” He asks, eyelids barely open.
You hum and brush the hair from his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“M’sure,” he says. “Don’t wanna be alone.”
You nod in understanding. You don’t even bother pointing out that he’s on your side of the bed. He’s too far gone to get him to roll over. You just climb over him and pull the blankets back and then tuck yourself in. You keep a respectable distance from him.
You know in the morning you’ll wake up to his arm around your middle and his face buried in your neck. You know because it happens every time you share a bed. Max will act like there’s nothing weird about it, will thank you for taking care of him, and be on his way before lunchtime.
You’ll crawl back into bed and curl up on your side, unsure of if you love or hate the fact that the sheets still smell like him.
…..
Charles calls you from Qatar.
You answer. “Charles, I cannot pick him up. I’m in another country.”
“Yes, I’ve told him that about a billion times,” Charles says. “He is very stubborn, you know.”
Something dawns on you as you sit up against your headboard. For some reason, you’ve always assumed that other people are the ones choosing to call you. That even when it’s someone who doesn’t know you, they’re getting your information from the emergency contact info in his phone. But this… Charles seems to be suggesting that Max has asked him to call you.
“Is he okay?” You ask.
Charles laughs. “He’s fine. He is a world champion, again. You know.”
You do know. You called and congratulated him right after the race. You can still hear the shake in his voice, the yelling of his team behind him. It’d made your heart ache, made you sad you weren’t there with him.
“Yeah,” you say. “You both still have to drive tomorrow, you know.”
“I do know, which is why I’m hoping you can help me,” Charles says. “We’re in his hotel room. His phone is dead, I guess? He came to use mine, so I brought him back here. He’s lost his charger.”
“There’s a spare one in his backpack,” you tell Charles. “In the small pocket.”
You hear the zipper and Charles’ amused laugh. “Did you pack his bag for him?”
“I helped,” you admit. “Let me talk to him and I’ll see if I can talk him down?”
Charles makes a noise of agreement. There’s rustling, then a thud. More rustling. You pinch the bridge of your nose.
Then, Max. “Hi.”
“Hi, Max,” you answer. “I thought you were going to take it easy tonight.”
“I am a world champion,” he says, so matter of fact.
In the background, you hear Charles groan.
“Yes, a world champion who still has to do a race tomorrow,” you remind him.
“I know. Can’t believe I got it in the sprint. A sprint I didn’t even win,” he says, laughing lightly. “Let the rookie win the race tomorrow. I’m the champion.”
“I’m going to throttle him,” Charles says, loud enough or close enough for you to hear. “I think in turn one I will run him into the wall.”
“Tell Charles if he hurts one hair on your head I’ll fly to Qatar and throttle him myself,” you tell Max.
Max relays the message. Charles is quiet after that.
“Doesn’t matter how you won it, yeah?” You remind Max. “You still worked just as hard to get there.”
“Yeah,” Max agrees. “I’m tired.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” You say with a laugh. “Charles has plugged your phone in. Make sure you turn it on and then go to sleep.”
You call his hotel and have electrolyte drinks and breakfast sent up the next morning, along with a bottle of painkillers. He texts you a photo of all of it along with a thank you message. When he wins the race, even hungover, you’re not the least bit surprised.
…..
When Max calls you at 11:00 pm, your first thought is huh. That’s early. You answer on the third ring, already looking for your keys. You wonder who it’ll be this time. A friend you know, or an unknown voice of someone he’s only met tonight.
“Schatje?” Max asks through the speaker.
You nearly drop the phone. “Max?”
“What, you don’t have my number saved?” He asks.
“No, of course I do, s’just- not usually you who ends up calling me, even from your phone.”
You think you hear him sniffle. Something twists in your chest. Before you can scramble to apologize, he’s speaking.
“Yeah. Um.” He sighs. “Huh.”
You can hear it in his voice, in the way the words seem to stick in his throat. Something’s wrong. You climb off the couch, headed for the door. “Tell me where you are, Max.”
He sniffs. “No, it’s uh- I don’t know why I called-“
“Max,” you repeat as you shut the front door behind you. “Where are you?”
He gives in and tells you he’s at some hotel bar. You recognize it and head down the stairs. You keep him on the line even as you start the car, as you pull out onto the road. He’s mumbling something about how he’ll be fine, about how you don’t have to come get him. Both of you know you’re already on the way.
You have to go in this time. For a moment you think about asking who else he’s with, and hanging up and calling them. But you don’t want to lose contact, so you park the car and head inside. You’re in a hoodie and sweatpants, a pair of slippers on your feet. Nobody bats an eye.
You find him in a back hallway, squeezed into a corner. Your heart crumples at the sight of him. You’re sure your face does too. He’s teary and curled in on himself. He looks so small. You love him, you worry for him, you hate this version of him. Not that you could ever really hate him. It’s just that he looks so vulnerable, so unlike himself.
As much as you want to get him out of there, as much as it would probably be the right move, you sit down next to him instead. You wrap an arm around his shoulder and pull him into your side until his head is against yours. You don’t ask him what’s wrong. He’ll tell you eventually. It might take a while- sometimes a few days. You always give him time. For now, you just sit in the hallway with him. You meet him where he’s at.
He tells you later that he suddenly found himself alone in the bar. After days straight of only being alone when he went to sleep, person after person wanting to celebrate his championship, he’d been alone. He hadn’t realized how much he’d felt like he was suffocating until that moment.
“I was one of the people celebrating,” you remind him as he clings to you.
“But you aren’t suffocating me,” he says. “You’re like… clean air.”
He sleeps in your bed that night. You sleep next to him, not even bothering to argue about it. You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breaths and the weight of his hand on your back.
When you wake up in the morning, he pretends he’s fine. You let him.
…..
Drunk Max is an overly honest Max. He’ll tell you anything and everything. So when you’re walking him home one night, his arm over your shoulder, gin on his breath, you’re expecting to learn some things. What you weren’t expecting, however, is for him to lean close, his lips against your ear, and tell you he loves you.
The odd thing is the way he says it. He leans close and tells you he loves you like he’s talking to someone else. He says “hey, you know-“ then he says your name- and then he says, “you know I love her?”
You shove at his side. “Yeah, I love you too, you dummy.”
He shakes his head, bumping his forehead against your temple. “No, I love her.”
Your heart stops at the way he says it. At the meaning he’s insinuating. Your feet fumble under you, but you manage to keep both of you upright.
“Max,” you say in a warning tone. “You’re drunk.”
“Mm,” he hums. “Drunk in love. Love drunk? Like that song she likes- got love drunk-“
He doesn’t realize he’s talking to you. He likely won’t remember this. You cut him off before he breaks into slightly incorrect Taylor Swift lyrics on the sidewalk. “That’s nice, Max. Why don’t you tell her?”
He shrugs. “Can’t.”
He doesn’t elaborate further, and you miss your chance to prod him about it when he trips over a bump in the sidewalk and nearly sends you both flying. After that, you keep your focus on getting him up to his apartment safely. You shove him into the bathroom in his apartment and tell him to brush his teeth. Then you stand in the hallway and press your hands over your face.
Can’t. Why not? Does he mean it? Did he say the wrong name? He won’t remember it tomorrow, you know that. Do you bring it up? Maybe you should just forget about it. He obviously doesn’t want you to know. And even if it is true, and he does have feelings for you, it would never work.
He stumbles out of the bathroom and presses a messy, toothpaste-y kiss to your forehead. That leaves your brain spinning even worse than it was before. You follow him to the bedroom and tuck him in. The cats glare at you as you disturb the blankets.
“You’ll stay, right?” He asks, tugging on your arm. He seems to know who you are now. “Please?”
You sigh and agree, climbing into bed next to him. He sighs happily and rolls towards you. He slings an arm around your waist, and you hold your breath when he presses his cheek to your shoulder.
“Goodnight,” he says, already half asleep.
“Goodnight,” you echo.
You lay awake and stare at the ceiling for at least an hour, trying not to listen to the sound of his soft breaths. Trying not to think about him admitting that he loves you. Trying not to think about him calling himself love drunk. Trying not to think about him at all, which is difficult with him right there.
You wonder if he really meant it. You want him to mean it, you realize. You tilt your head to look at him- you can only see the top of his head and the slow rise and fall of his chest. God, you want him to mean it. There’s no way he does, but you want it so badly your whole body aches with it.
Sassy walks up to the head of the bed and curls up right next to you. You run your fingers over her fur. Finally, then, you’re able to fall asleep.
…..
It’s not often that Max is the one to pick you up from a bar. It’s every once in a blue moon. You’re much more responsible, you plan ahead. You have a ride home, or you don’t get so drunk that you can’t walk, or you plan to stay with a friend who lives closer to wherever you’re going.
It’s not often, but it does happen. Which is how you find yourself in the bar bathroom, phone pressed to your ear, praying he picks up. There’s a good chance he won’t. He’s definitely not sitting around, waiting for you to call like you always are when he goes out. If he doesn’t pick up you’ll have to call someone else, but you won’t even know where to begin.
It’s only when you hear his voice that you realize you’re not sure he’s even in Monaco.
“Hello?” He says. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, just- what country are you in?”
“What?” He asks. You can hear rustling in the background. “Is this some sort of code? Is someone-“
“No, Maxie, I’m fine,” you say. “Where are you?”
“Monaco,” he answers, still sounding unsure. “At home. Where are you?”
“Monaco. A bar bathroom,” you answer. “Any chance you’d come pick me up? My designated driver met a guy.”
“Not a very good designated driver,” he says with a scoff.
“Says the guy who never has one,” you retort.
Max laughs and doesn’t argue. “Send me your location. I’ll come get you.”
Max gets there far too quickly to have been driving at a reasonable speed. He insists that you wait inside rather than meeting him out on the sidewalk, and says he’ll call you when he gets there. The phone rings, so you step outside. You’re thankful once again for his collection of cars and his tinted windows- nobody seems to have realized it’s him. He leans over and opens the door for you, and you climb inside. He already has the heated seat on for you, and he hands you a bottle of water after you sit down.
“Drink,” he says as he pulls away from the curb.
You roll your eyes but do as he says anyways. The city is a blur of lights outside your window, though you know Max isn’t speeding. He always drives carefully with you in the car, no matter how many times you beg him to go fast. You sink lower in the leather seat.
His eyes flicker over to you. “Did you have a good time?”
You shrug. “Yeah, till all my friends ditched me,” you say. “They found guys to hook up with.”
You see Max frown out of the corner of your eye. “And you didn’t? The men in this club must be blind.”
You pick at the hem of your dress. “Maybe I didn’t want to hook up with anyone. Maybe that’s not what I’m looking for.”
“And what are you looking for?” He asks.
He keeps his eyes trained on the road. You turn your head to look at him. You’re at a stoplight, and it paints his face red. You study the slope of his nose, the jut of his jaw. You, you want to say. I’m looking for you. You think of him the last time you picked him up, how he said he loved you. Called himself love drunk. And then you think of when you asked him why he hadn’t told you. Can’t.
So instead, you shrug. Max turns and looks at you, then shrugs in response. You pout, knowing he’s mocking you. His eyes trace over your face, then over the rest of you. You wonder if he’s relying on how drunk you are to make you forget this- hoping you won’t realize or remember him checking you out. He reaches into the backseat and comes back with a large dark hoodie.
“Here,” he says. “You must be cold.”
The light turns green when the sweatshirt is half over your head- you only know because you feel the vehicle lurch into motion. You squeak, and Max laughs and lays a hand on your leg to steady you. His palm is warm against your bare skin.
When you pop your head back out and shove your arms through the sleeves, you expect him to let go. He doesn’t. His hand stays there, a steady presence, the whole ride to his place.
He hasn’t even asked if you want to stay at his apartment- he doesn’t need to, he already knows what your answer would be. Plus, you’re a bit too drunk to really be left on your own. He leads you up to his door, keeping his hand on your lower back to steady your wobbling steps. You’d tried to kick your heels off in the lobby, but Max had insisted you keep them on. You take them off as soon as you walk in his front door, though, sighing in relief. You stumble over to the couch as he sheds his shoes and jacket. By the time he walks into the living room, you’re curled up in the corner, already under a blanket, face pressed against one of his throw pillows. Max clicks his tongue.
“Come on. Up,” he says, tugging at your shoulder. “You should change your clothes and eat something.”
You groan and reach out to wrap your arm around his neck. “I’m comfy. Come cuddle. Comfy.”
He sighs. “We can cuddle. If you change your clothes and eat something.”
The offer leaves you a bit dumbfounded, because Max isn’t much of a cuddler. It’s pretty likely that he’s lying just to appease you, to get you to follow his instructions. So you continue to lay there, trying to pull him in. When you don’t budge, Max huffs, plants his hands on the couch behind you, and straightens up. He does it before you can loosen your grip, so you go with him almost accidentally. He pulls you off the couch and grabs your hips, helping you to stand up.
“There,” he says, as you sigh and lean heavily on him. “Step one. Clothes.”
He leads you to his room, where you eagerly take the opportunity to sit down on his bed. He turns and begins digging through his drawers. You flop back onto the bed. One of the cats paws at your ankles- you don’t bother looking to see which one. Max throws clothing onto your stomach.
“I’ll go make you food,” he says.
It takes you far too long to find the motivation to shed the hoodie and dress and trade them out for whatever clothes Max has left for you. Eventually, though, you do it. He’s given you one of his shirts and a pair of shorts that are definitely yours, likely left behind whenever you stayed over last. You pull the hoodie back over your head and leave the dress on the floor. It’s only when you remember that Max is awful at cooking that you scramble towards the kitchen.
He’s putting perfectly cooked ramen into bowls. Frankly, it’s hard to mess up ramen, but you’re relieved either way. He smiles at the sight of you, and you think about telling him all over again. The last time you were drunk, you said you loved me. I love you too. We should talk about that. Can’t. Your heart stutters in your chest.
“Thanks,” you say, sitting down at the counter.
You never do get the cuddle he promised. You fall asleep there, forehead pressed to the granite, and Max carries you to the guest room and tucks you in. You swear you feel his lips against your forehead as you fall asleep. But that’s probably just a dream.
…..
By the time you’re in Vegas for the Grand Prix, you haven’t been drunk with Max in months. It’s been one or the other, not both. But since you’re there, Max drags you along to every event he gets invited to. You’re two drinks deep by the time Max makes it to the afterparty. He catches up quickly.
You sneak a sip of his gin and tonic and recoil at the taste. He gives you a blank stare in return.
“You’ve never liked it,” he says. “I don’t know why you keep trying.”
You shrug. “Exposure therapy. And my drink’s empty.”
He gives you a look that’s a mixture of what you think is exasperation and fondness. It’s his signature look when he’s dealing with you on nights out.
“We can fix that,” he says, as he reaches for your hand.
He leads you up to the bar, fingers knit with yours. He doesn’t let go like he normally would. It’s not uncommon for him to hold onto you in a crowd, especially when you’re drunk, but this is different. He leans over the bar and gives your order to the bartender, who nods and moves to make the drink. Max keeps his hand in yours. He finally lets go when you get your drinks, and you take a sip while you look up at him.
His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, blue eyes wide, and you’re trying desperately to read his mind. You want him to let you in so badly.
You end up at a table with him and his driver friends, squished in the booth between Max and Charles. You sip your drink and listen to them talk about race strategy and tires and Vegas in general. Max downs his drink, and someone brings him another. You do the same, and he gets them to bring you one too. And the cycle continues.
This means that by the time he turns to you and says, “we should leave now,” you’re pleasantly drunk, and you’d probably do anything he asked, really.
He slips out of the booth and pulls you along with him, ignoring the people who call his name. He has both of your jackets in his arm as he weaves through the crowds, holding onto your hand. It’s nice, to be here with him, to be a part of it instead of sitting and waiting for a phone call to come pick him up.
As the two of you stumble out onto the sidewalk, you tug on the back of his shirt. “Hey. Who are we going to call to come take care of us? We’re both drunk.”
Max turns and laughs, and then he’s quick to steady you when you stumble on the pavement. “We will take care of each other.”
You nod clumsily, leaning into the feeling of his hands on your hips. “Okay. Yeah. Nice.”
Max tugs you close, tucking you under his arm as he starts to walk down the street. “Lovely.”
“Simply lovely,” you say teasingly. “Where are we going?”
“The hotel,” he says. “I am sick of people.”
You deflate a bit at that. You’re not ready to say goodnight, to say goodbye, to be alone. You want to spend more time with him- it’s why you’re here in Vegas. Max seems to sense your change in mood and squeezes your shoulder, craning his head to look down at you.
“What’s wrong?” He asks. “Do you want to stay out? We can find another club, I just thought maybe we could order room service, or pizza, and play a game or…”
He trails off as your eyes go wide, the hurt in your chest melting away. He cocks his head.
“I thought you were sick of me, too,” you say, and you bite your lower lip.
Max frowns deeply. The lights behind his head are blurry in your vision. You wonder if you’re just drunk, or if you’re tearing up. The way he swipes his thumb under your eye tells you it’s the latter.
“No,” he says, gently. “Never.”
Your lip wobbles. You shrug. Max seems to understand, and he just squeezes your shoulder again and keeps walking. You try to get your emotions in check. You have to, really, need to be normal about this. He’s just your friend. That’s all he wants to be.
“We could go do karaoke,” he suggests, pointing at a sign down the road.
He’s trying to distract you. It’s working.
You laugh and elbow him. “You’re an awful singer,” you tease.
“Am not!” He says, his tone full of mock offense. “Here, I’ll-“
You’re expecting him to break out into Viva Las Vegas, like he had at the end of the race over the radio. You’re bracing yourself for it, ready to grimace and cover your ears even though he isn’t really that bad of a singer. What he starts singing surprises you, makes you stumble a bit over your own feet.
“Welcome to New York!” He sings, and you stare at him, wide eyed. “They’ve been waiting for me- welcome-“
“Stop, stop,” you laugh, elbowing him as he attracts stares from people passing by. “We’re in Vegas, not New York! And you always get the lyrics wrong-“
“I am very good with lyrics,” he says, shaking his head.
“No, you’re not, you sang the other one wrong, too,” you tease. “You said got love drunk, it’s supposed to be got love struck. Remember, in Monaco?”
He stops in his tracks, his arm still around you, and stares. You stare right back. You frown and tilt your head at him, mirroring his earlier reaction.
“You remember that?” He asks, quietly.
“I was sober, Max,” you answer. “You remember that?”
He nods, lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes are wide, cheeks pink. “I wasn’t sure if it was real, or if I dreamed it. And you never said anything about what I told you, so…”
That’s when you remember the other part of that conversation, all those nights ago. I love her. Why don’t you tell her? Can’t. You swallow tightly, hands hanging at your sides.
“You didn’t seem to know you were talking to me,” you explain. “So I figured it wasn’t something you really wanted me to know.”
Max blinks, then nods. “I didn’t. Because you don’t feel the same.”
Your stomach twists violently, and your chest follows suit. “I never said that.”
His stare is so intense you feel like you’re seconds away from bursting into flame. “But if you did, you would’ve said something after that night.”
You shake your head. “I asked why you didn’t just tell me and you just said, can’t. You wouldn’t explain any further. I don’t know, Max, I just. I figured you had a reason. Like, maybe…”
“Maybe what?” He asks, still staring at you.
“I’m just me, Max,” you say, pressing your hands over your face. “I’m just your friend. People get crushes all the time but it doesn’t mean you want to be with me, you’re a fucking world champion and I-“
He reaches up with both hands and grabs your wrists gently. He pulls your hands from your face. There’s a smile on his lips that leaves you teetering between relief and apprehension.
“But I didn’t say I had a crush on you,” he says, brows raised. “I said I love you.”
You sigh heavily and try to pull your hands back to your face. He doesn’t let you. You’re looking anywhere other than his eyes. Anywhere other than him, really. He lets go of your wrists and then cups your face in his hands before you can move.
“Hey,” he says. “I said can’t because I thought there was no way you’d feel the same.”
You stare at him, wide eyed, as his thumbs sweep soft circles over your cheeks. Suddenly, everything comes into focus, bright and blinding and stark. The Las Vegas strip is glowing all around you, but none of the lights are as bright as him.
“I do,” you murmur, and he lights up even brighter, somehow, when he smiles. “Fuck, Max-“
He kisses you right there, where anyone could see, in the middle of one of the busiest sidewalks you’ve ever been on. Nobody seems to notice or care, nobody seems to understand that your whole world is shifting. His lips are warm against yours, he tastes like gin, and he holds onto you like he’s trying to be so, so careful. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck and thread fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
He only pulls away when someone whistles at the two of you. He’s grinning wide, hands still cradling your face, and you have to fight not to pull his lips back to yours.
“Come on,” he says, slightly out of breath.
You don’t ask where you’re going. You just let him lead you away. You’re so in love with him, you think you’d probably follow him anywhere. It’s terrifying and relieving all at the same time.
…..
A week later, in Abu Dhabi, you ask him if he wants to go out after the race. There’s a billion parties he could choose from.
“No,” he says, wrinkling his nose up at the idea. “I’m good.”
You elbow him lightly, raising your brows. “All those parties you called me to pick you up from, and now I’m here and you don’t even want to go out? You don’t want to celebrate your season?”
He smirks as he tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you along with him through the paddock. “I want to celebrate, but we don’t need to go out to do that. I have better ideas.”
His hand slips lower from your hip and squeezes at your ass. You yelp and look around frantically, hoping nobody noticed. He’s grinning with pride.
“Party animal Max Verstappen wants to stay in,” you tease. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
He shrugs, leans his head close to yours, and then admits, finally, “it was never about the parties. It was more about who was picking me up from them.”
You smile against his shoulder and try not to let it go to your head. He smiles against your forehead and tells you that he loves you for what must be the millionth time in the past week. You say it right back, drunk on the feeling of it.
a/n: thank you for readinnnnngggg!!
taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully
2K notes · View notes
f1daydreamers · 2 months
Text
𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐬 [𝐌𝐕𝟏]
Tumblr media
gif credits: @overtake
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader
Summary: Seeing your boyfriend play with his nephews stirs emotions inside of you. While it may be the first time you and Max have acknowledged it, it may also be the last.
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, like one mention of alcohol, mentions of an unknown future, parenthood, lmk if I've missed anything!
Word Count: 1.0k words (3 mins reading time avg)
...
The sun dipped below the Monaco skyline, its rays streaming through the expansive windows of the apartment you shared with Max.
In celebration of his successful '23 season, you both agreed that throwing a rather modest dinner would be the perfect way to bring everyone together after a demanding year.
You'd dumped the last of the dirty plates into the sink, thanking Vic as she was already some steps ahead of you, cloth and disinfectant spray in hand as she wiped down the table.
Casting a quick glance around, you confirmed the absence of any stray cutlery, leaving only everyone's respective cups.
However, both your mind and your movements abruptly hit pause, as if your heart had taken the reins, softening at the sight of your boyfriend playing with his nephews, attentively listening to every word they were saying, whether it was meaningful or mere babble.
You smiled as Luka got up and wrapped his small arms around Max's neck, his hand rubbing up and down his little back.
Your eyes even threatened to well up a bit at the wholesome scene. As you brought your fingers up to your face, Max's gaze lifted to meet yours.
You fake-coughed, pretending to shield your mouth, averting your eyes and busying yourself, desperately trying to regain your previously lost train of thoughts.
Max couldn't help softly smiling to himself, but his moment of retrospect was interrupted by a few taps on his cheek from his nephew, who was determined to recapture his uncle's attention.
As the evening progressed on, you constantly found your mind plagued with thoughts that unravelled a potential future with him, one that included the laughter and chaos of children.
Yet, a persistent counterargument resounded in your thoughts, reminding you that neither would be ready, both still traversing the barely begun stages of real adulthood.
The internal conflict tugged at your emotions, creating a fine line between the yearning for a future adorned with parenthood and the sober acknowledgment of the unadorned present. As the dinner gradually transitioned into an intimate gathering with hushed conversations among the group that remained, you politely excused yourself.
Max's arm, once comfortably wrapped around your body, now gracefully descended onto the sofa behind you. With your hand placed flat on his thigh, you leveraged yourself up, slipping out of his gentle grasp.
He let maybe five, ten minutes pass by, granting you some alone time should you have needed it.
But eventually, he placed his beer bottle on to the corner table, crossing the lounge before pushing open and then shutting one of the doors to the apartment balcony.
Lost in thought, your mind had barely registered the sound, your body jolting when his hand pressed into the slight dip of your waist.
You sighed when you recognised the touch a few seconds later, turning your head to meet Max's rather sympathetic eyes.
"Sorry," he quietly apologised. You shook your head, dismissing the need for one. Turning to face him, you wrapped both your arms around his torso, gently resting your head against his chest - a hug he warmly welcomed.
"Want to tell me what's going on in that big brain of yours?" He asked, and you could practically sense the smile creeping onto his lips. He had an uncanny knack for knowing when you needed to unload your thoughts, and his intuition was always eerily accurate. You sighed, feeling his grip on you loosen as you pulled away. Leaning against the railing behind you, Max took one step closer, then another. Pursing your lips, you realised how pathetic this may possibly sound when vocalised. "Just watching you with your sister's kids. It got me thinking, I guess."
Your boyfriend already had a strong inkling as to where this was heading, but he patiently granted you the time and space to elaborate.
He arched an eyebrow. "Thinking about what?"
You lightly shrugged, pressing your bottom lip up to your top. You hesitated for a moment before the next words left your mouth.
"You know, family and stuff. Kids."
Max studied your face for a moment. "Kids, huh?" He said with a knowing smile.
You avoided eye contact, answering with a simple, "I don't know."
He chuckled softly. "Is 'I don't know' code for 'I do know but I'm scared to share my answer' because you think I don't know mine?"
Caught off guard, you silently cursed that eerie sixth sense of his, tensing as you looked up into his eyes. They were light, despite the depth of the topic.
You frowned. "Well, do you.. want children, I mean?"
There was a warmth in his gaze, one that offered you comfort. He looked over your face, his shoulders slumped as if the walls of undiscussed territory had crumbled without much of a fight.
"With you, yeah."
Your frown deepened, but this time, a different emotion flickered in your eyes.
His admission was unexpected, and a pleasant shock washed over you. The corners of your lips twitched as surprise softened into a tender smile. For a moment, your gaze lingered on his face, searching for any sign of jest or hesitation, but you didn't find any.
"If you're ready, then so am I." He added.
And just like that, the hours you spent wrestling with your own thoughts now dissipated into the evening breeze. You held back the surge of emotions within you, searching for the right words.
"Really?" you managed, but not without a quiet sob escaping at the end.
Max chuckled, rolling his eyes as he pulled you into him, embracing you for the second time tonight.
"So fragile," he teased, and you smiled despite the tears streaming down your face.
"Shut up," you retorted, your voice a mixture of laughter and tears.
There was a moment's quiet before your boyfriend spoke. "On second thought, why do I need a baby when I've got one right here?"
It was your turn to roll your eyes now, your voice muffled as you tried to argue.
"Babies cry a lot more."
"Hmm, between you and a newborn? I'd say it's pretty even."
You lightly slapped Max's stomach with your hand; his laughter eventually melting into a warm smile, and he pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head.
...
Masterlist
959 notes · View notes
lovingperfectionsblog · 8 months
Text
I'm Not A Spy?
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: There’s no way THE Max Verstappen got you flowers, absolutely no way. 
Warnings: Swearing, other than that, just silliness and fluff. 
Word Count: 1616
Authors note: This was literally a dream I had and I was encouraged to write it as a fic by my absolute dream of a friend @0-atmilk-latte so thank you sugar <3 I hope it’s okay. I really want to get back into writing my silly little stories so, let's try to do this. 
______
Enemy territory. 
This is where Max stood currently. Dead center in front of the Mercedes motorhome door, where everyone could see him. 
And every single person to walk through those doors sent him glares that would make sure he knew he was on enemy territory. 
He knew it was risky. Redbull merchandise adoring him. Sticking out like a sore thumb. It was a risk he was willing to take. 
“Horner send you?” Toto stepped through the doors after watching Max stand there for the past hour, “Although, I can't imagine who Horner would be giving those to?” eyes flicking between Max’s face and the bouquet of flowers he was currently white knuckling. 
“No sir, these are for your assistant.” Max tried to sound confident but even he could admit Toto was a terrifying man and this entire situation was feeling far too similar to the idea of trying to get your fathers permission to ask you on a date. 
“From?” Toto knew he was making Max squirm, but the only thing that would bring him more joy was if it were Horner himself standing in front of him instead of Max. 
“From me sir.” Max tried to stop his hands from shaking, the rustling of the leaves and flowers becoming oddly unbearable as he tried to stand his ground in front of your boss. 
“Why?” As much fun as Toto was having, he was also curious. He knew Max had been eyeing you up these past few weeks, paying more attention to you, attempting to talk to you every opportunity he could. He had even caught Max attempting to make small talk with Lewis and George, which he was now assuming was a bid at getting closer to you. At the very least attempt to make everyone around you like him in the meantime. 
“Because I was hoping to ask her to dinner sir.” Toto couldn't hide his surprise at Max’s honesty. Expecting at the very least some work around to that answer after some back and forth. 
God Max irritated him. He had no choice but to add this to the increasingly growing list of things he respected Max for and it infuriated Toto to no end. 
It didn’t mean he couldn't stress Max out in the meantime. 
“Well,” he let out a chuckle, “good luck then son.” 
“Boss, what’s the redbull scum doing on our turf?” George shouted towards Toto as he made his way towards the motorhome. 
Toto didn’t even give Max an opportunity to answer before he was shouting back, “Apparently he’s here to ask my assistant out to dinner.”
“Oh, makes sense why he’s been so nice to me and Lewis these last few weeks.” George made his way up to the entrance, joining his boss and rival, “Is this why you wanted to hang out in Monaco the other day?” 
Toto and George could only laugh at the uncontrollable blush that had made its way across Max’s face at being called out. 
And the situation was only made worse by, “Morning Boss, George,” you eyed the odd one out, cocking an eyebrow up in question, “and Max?” 
“Well then, go ahead,” was all that came from your boss in lieu of a greeting from any of them. 
And suddenly Max felt shy. All that previous bravado had clearly been used up with Toto, leaving none for the actual important interaction. 
He had to do something and soon, because you were standing there staring at him, waiting, for, well, something. 
Next second there was a bouquet thrust in your direction, gripped to near smithereens between Max’s hands. Your eyes darted between the flower and the three men in front of you, one completely avoiding eye contact, the other two doing a poor job to hide their smiles as they watched the interaction between you two. 
“What’s this for?” you refused to take the bundle from Max, unsure of what was happening. 
“You.” It was all Max could get out. 
“From?
“Me?” 
“Why?” 
“Jesus.” 
Toto barked out a laugh at the near identical conversation he and Max had just had. 
The flowers rustled in front of you as you assumed Max shook them for you to take. 
He would never admit that it was his nerves. 
You hesitantly took the flowers, eyeline switching between max and the, admittedly beautiful, bunch of flowers you were now holding. 
There was a long silence as you just stared at the flowers, eyebrows furrowing. Neither Max, Toto nor George fully understood what was going on in your mind. The silence extended so long that even Toto began to feel nervous, so he could only imagine what Max was feeling as he just stared you down just as intensely as you were staring at those flowers.  
Just as Toto reached out to nudge Max in an attempt to get him to say something to you, you began violently shaking the flowers. Petals and leaves began flying everywhere. Whole flowers landed on the floor at your feet. At least one had hit Max in the face. Toto stepped back in fear. Max shielded himself from the onslaught. By the time you were done, all that was left in your hand was one measly flower consisting of maybe four petals and a few leaves. The rest lay at your feet after your massacre. 
All three boys stared on in horror as you stood there breathless. Eyes fixed on Max like he was your prey. 
Everyone could hear the gulp from Max’s throat as he took a single step backwards. 
“You think just because I’m some girl and you’re the Max Verstappen in your fast little redbull you can treat me like some pawn in your weird little game?” you spat the words at him. 
Max desperately looked over to Toto and George for some help, but even they looked too scared to intercede on his behalf. 
“This isn’t some game, I just,” 
“You just what? Thought you could spy on my team?” you didn't even let him finish before throwing out a secondary accusation at him. 
“Spy?” George hadn’t meant to have that come out as loud as it did, but suddenly all attention was on him as he hid slightly behind Toto. 
“Obviously George. He probably put a listening device in the flowers to spy on us.” All three looked at you like you were insane, “Why else would he be giving me flowers?” 
“To ask you on a date.” The silence that followed Toto’s comment was deafening. 
“No.” It was all you could get out. 
“No to the date or no to him giving you flowers for that reason?” Totot was desperately trying to be the voice of reason here. 
“To him giving me flowers?” You’d yet to look at Max since the original accusations. 
“Why would Max be spying on us? Redbull is the fastest team on the grid?” George was emphatically nodding along with what Toto was saying, trying to get you to see that this was completely innocent. 
“I’m not a spy?” Max had finally spoken up, far too alarmed at the accusations beforehand to offer much more than this, beyond thankful to Toto for helping him explain. 
“Then what’s with the flowers?” You were sharp and blunt and Max couldn’t help but fall just that little bit more for you as he watched you defend your team. 
“To ask you on a date.” Max hesitantly pointed at Toto, showing that the original reason that was offered was correct. 
“You want to take me on a date?” Max could only nod, “and these flowers were to ask me on a date?” Another nod, smile growing as he watched your cheeks flush, “in front of my boss?” you side eyed your boss, hoping he’d take the hint to get out of there. 
“In my defense, I didn’t expect him to come talk to me, not stick around” Max’s eyes refused to leave you, a little nervous to at this point. 
“I’m not going anywhere, is it a yes or not?” Totot refused to budge, his massive presence looming over both you and Max as George peaked over his shoulder to continue watching the interaction. 
“Yes,” you watched as Max’s smile grew even wider than before, him already grabbing his phone out of his pocket so you could put your number in it for him, “as long as you promise you aren’t a spy!” you emphasized by shoving his phone, now containing your number, into his chest as a warning. 
“Not a spy. I promise,” Max stuck his pinky out, waiting for you to reciprocate, giving you the most legal of all promises, the pinky promise, “so it’s a date.” 
You nodded as you wrapped your pinky around his own, “A date.” 
After a moment Toto coughed, catching your attention and forcing you to let go of Max and straighten out your attire, “We should go, yes, we have, there’s work, yes, job, okay, bye” and with that, you had disappeared through the Mercedes motorhome doors, soon followed by Toto who clapped a hand against Max’s shoulders, muttering a “well done boy” as he followed you in to begin the day, leaving Max to stare after you as George sidled up next to him. 
The two stood in silence, Max staring at you as Toto clearly teased you about the interaction, and George stared at Max, gearing up to do some teasing of his own. 
“Never thought The Max Verstappen would be into women who scared him” 
“Shit, she’s so scary.” Max nodded along with his own statement before making George choke on his coffee with the next one, “I think I’m going to marry her.” 
2K notes · View notes
theemporium · 8 months
Note
What about... Pining and yearning driver (doesn't matter who he is tbh) but in reality he's just stupidly in love and doesn't realize reader is also in love with them 😭 happy ending of course <3
thank you for requesting!🖤
.
“You’re glaring.” 
“No, I’m not.” 
“Yes, you are.” 
“No, I’m not.” 
“Mate, she’s his assistant. Stop planning his murder,” Lando grumbled, though the amusement was clear on his face. He was enjoying each and every second of this.
It wasn’t uncommon for Max to find him in the McLaren motorhome on a Thursday afternoon, especially if they knew they would be in a conference together. The Dutchman would most likely just spend time catching up with his friend, laughing and joking about before they would be guided to the interview by their PR teams. 
However, more recently than not, Lando was starting to notice that Max was showing up to the McLaren motorhome for a different reason. A reason that had everything to do with the fact the motorhome beside the papaya orange team was none other than the Ferrari one. And Max had his eye on a certain member of the Ferrari team. 
You. 
You, who was Charles’ assistant. You, who was currently standing outside the Ferrari motorhome with your boss and his teammate. You, who currently had your hands on Charles’ chest as you tried to smooth out his team polo as best as you could. 
Not that Max cared. Not at all. He had no reason to care and he certainly didn’t. Or at least, that was what he was telling himself.
“You know,” Lando continued when the Dutchman had fallen silent. “Charles was telling me he thinks she has a crush on a driver.” 
Max’s head whipped around. “What?”
“Yeah,” Lando shrugged casually. “Apparently she admitted it when she was drunk.” 
“Who is it?” Max asked almost immediately.
Lando grinned. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” he retorted defensively. 
“Right,” the Brit laughed before patting him on the back. “God, you are so easy to wind up.”
“Lando,” Max grumbled. “Name.”
“Huh? Oh, it must have slipped my mind,” Lando sighed before shifting the conversation onto something else. 
But it didn’t leave his mind. It couldn’t leave his mind. Instead, Max spent the whole press conference wondering who the driver was. He racked his brain on who he saw you interacting with, who he had seen you hanging around more often than the others. 
The obvious answers were either one of the Ferrari drivers. But you had always insisted you viewed Charles as a brother, yet that didn’t cross Carlos off the potential list. He wondered if it was either of the McLaren drivers, or maybe even Daniel, his own teammate. He wondered maybe if it was one of the drivers he wasn’t as close to on the grid, that maybe you hung out with them for more than he realised. 
His answers during the conference were short, blunt and distracted and everyone noticed. 
You had been standing off to the side, phone in hand as you answered a few emails here and there whilst Charles dealt with his media duties. However, your attention was quickly pulled away from your work when you heard the Dutchman speak. And then, you were distracted by your own concern for him when you realised how off he was acting. 
You had waited until the end of the conference before you approached him, a sheepish smile on your face when you realised he was far too lost in thought to even realise you were beside him. You placed your hand on his arm, causing the boy to jump slightly and you quickly pulled your hand back.
“I’m sorry,” you apologised with a smile. “Are you okay?”
Max blinked. “What?”
“Are you okay?” you repeated as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “You seem really off today.”
“Uh, yeah,” he muttered, a crease forming between his brows. “Just have a lot on my mind.”
“Anything I can help with?” 
Deep down, Max knew you were probably only asking to be polite. He knew you probably expected him to just shake his head and say no so you could run off to help Charles like you should have been doing, rather than standing there talking to him. But the question was plaguing his mind, and who better to give him an answer than you?
“Do you like one of the drivers?” he blurted out.
You blinked, slightly surprised. “What?”
“Do you like one of the drivers?” he asked again, his eyes never leaving yours. “Lando says you did.”
“He did?” you questioned, your voice a little high-pitched and you hoped the Dutchman couldn’t tell your face was burning up. “I wonder where he got that from—-”
“Charles told him,” Max told you.
And you cursed your boss for opening his mouth.
“I…might,” you muttered shyly.
“Who is it?” 
“Max—”
“I won’t tell him,” he continued, pretending like the idea of you saying one of his friend’s names wouldn’t make his stomach churn uncomfortably. “I could even help you if you want—”
“No, Max, it’s you,” you interrupted, your nails digging into your palm as you blurted out the words. “You’re the driver.”
Max nodded once but stayed silent.
You instantly wanted the world to open up and swallow you whole. You cleared your throat, taking a step back as you tried to pretend the embarrassment of his blatant rejection wasn’t making you want to curl into a hole and never come out.
“I’m sorry, I should just—” you started but Max quickly intervened.
“Do you want to get dinner with me?” 
You blinked at him. “Dinner?”
“Yes, with me,” Max continued. “Tonight. Or tomorrow night. Whenever it works for you.”
“I—” you paused, letting out a breath as you smiled at him. “I would like that.”
Max didn’t bother hiding the small smile on his face. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you said and nodded. “I’ll message you when I’m free.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he said, watching as you headed back towards the Ferrari garage, a weight having been lifted off his chest as he watched you go. He couldn’t even deny the butterflies in his stomach as he thought about your message.
Max was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even see Lando approaching his side, grinning wide like a madman.
“I knew you liked her!”
“Shut up.” 
“Max and—”
“Fuck off, Norris.”
“Sitting in a tree–”
“You know what, you can get your own plane home.”
.
1K notes · View notes
hey-kae · 1 year
Note
request for max, if possible: you live together and your male best friend stays for like 2 days and max gets real jealous, becuase you have inside jokes and so if you‘re up to it, maybe ending in smut, but you ofc don‘t have to 😚
Got it through
Pairing: Max Verstappen x female reader
Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), PDA, probably has lots of mistakes.
a/n: i hope you enjoy this and i’m sorry for how long it took for me to write it. PS: my laptop deleted the proofread version but i wanted to post it still so i will proofread it again tomorrow…
When you first broke the news to Max that an old friend of yours was gonna visit the two of you over the weekend, he was excited as he always was whenever he got to meet any of the people close to you. He went grocery shopping with you and was quite helpful in helping you prepare the guest bedroom for your visitor.
One detail that you had spared him was the fact that the person visiting was your best friend, your guy best friend, so when he offered to pick him up at the airport while you finished up cooking the food you two had started preparing, you bit back a smile and agreed, giving Max a nod and a quick kiss before rushing back to the stove when a burning smell had started originating.
With that, Max disappeared out the door, keys jiggling in his hand as he got going. Meanwhile, the smile on your face was quite prominent as you envisioned Max's reaction when he would come face to face with Marc.
There was two possible outcomes to this: hell would break loose or you would get a good laugh out of it.
A while later, your phone pinged, notifying you of a message that came through. You rushed to it, wiping your hands against the apron tied around your waist before picking up the device and reading the notification.
Max: It's a he?!
You could've told me
And just like that, the most interesting days you've had in a while began.
An hour passed before they arrived home, Max trailing behind Marc with a frown on his face, watching very closely as your friend wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug that, much to your boyfriend's distaste, you returned with just as much affection. Then, as Marc followed you to the kitchen, kindly offering to lend you a hand as you sliced a loaf of bread, Max followed in his footsteps, eyeing him up and down with his fisted hands tucked in his pockets, a funny scowl never leaving his face.
"I think you should shower, mate." He said out of the blue, taking you by utter surprise while tapping Marc's shoulders with a tight-lipped smile, "Don't misunderstand me. I don't think you're dirty or smelly." He gave him a once over, "It's just what we do after being at the airport, kind of a law around our house."
Your brows furrowed as you watched Max come up with a rule on the spot, all while Marc looked immensely taken back, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, looking intimidated by your boyfriend. You could swear you saw a glimpse of fear in his eyes.
Max followed his gaze to you and you could practically see him trying not to roll his eyes.
"Come on. I will show you to the guest room and bathroom." He practically guiding Marc away from the kitchen and you had to bite back a laugh that was begging to push past your lips.
You could hear the commotion of what seemed to be Marc being clueless to how the shower works and Max explaining that to him and it went on for several minutes before you felt Max's hands plant themselves on your hips as he turned your around to face him.
"Marc, huh?" He asked, half seriously. However, despite his apparent question, he didn't give you time to answer. His lips met yours possessively in a messy kiss. It barely took seconds until his tongue was meeting yours halfway, his teeth occasionally pulling and nibbling on your lips as he trailed his hands down to your ass, squeezing it in a surprising manner that made you let out a small moan.
He took the opportunity and used the small moment of uncertainty on your part to push you up onto the counter, his body pushing your legs apart until he was stood between them, his hands kneading the inside of your thighs and holding them apart while he continued claiming your lips aggressively.
A straggled breath got stuck in your throat when his hand cupped your pussy, one finger pushing harder than the rest, applying perfect pressure onto your clothed clit.
"Max..." You gasped, you hand latching onto his hair as you head fell back and his kisses traveled down onto your neck.
"Fucking love hearing you like this, you know?" He breathlessly said.
"I know, but you have to stop. Marc might..." He didn't care for what you were saying. His slipped his hand into your pants and panties and applied teasing pressure onto your pulsating entrance, leaving you to subconsciously grind against his fingers, your body now with a mind of its own, asking him for more.
He responded with just what you needed, his thumb played and rubbed your clit as he pushed to fingers into your warm and wet pussy, your walls immediately clenching around his digits and your body arching towards him.
"Fuck." You whined and moved your hips in accordance to his fingers' thrusts, already chasing a high, a thought in the very back of your mind convincing you that you would get to come before Marc came back.
Max was desperate to prove you wrong and leave you flustered in front of your friend, therefore he kept his movements slow until the sound of the guest bathroom's lock echoed from a distance. He pulled away from you and sucked your wetness off his fingers, as you watched him breathlessly, somewhat pissed.
"Marc, my man!" He welcomed your friend back in the room, "I already can feel it, these two days are gonna be so fun!" Max's fake cheer filled the room, his cheesy smile looking very obviously fake to you as he took a seat on a chair, one leg crossed over the other with pure confidence.
The rest of the day went on fine until dinner came around and the three of you took seats around the dining table.
"So..." Max started as he ate, "How long have you known my girlfriend?" He looked at Marc, directing the question to him.
"We were like... 14 when we met. We've been friends for a while." Marc smiled at you and you smiled back before taking a much needed sip of your drink.
"Ah, 14. Right at the beginning of teenage years and shit, right?"
"Yeah!" Marc excitedly agreed, "We had so many teen adventures together. The first time we got drunk, we were together!"
Max's brow's rose in fake pleasantry as he gave you a weird smile, "You were quite naughty kids, you two!"
"Max, what?" You masked your annoyance with a giggle and started a mental countdown until this dinner was over, but it went on for way longer that it should've as Max dragged out the conversation with a fake cheer you'd never seen him have but when Marc excused himself and retreated to him room, and after cleaning everything quickly, Max practically carried you to your room, pushing you onto the bed and immediately climbing on top of you, kissing you as he slipped his hand into your shirt, yanked down the cups of your bra and pinched a nipple, making you moan into his mouth, your mind still not comprehending the quick pace Max was setting.
Within a few minutes, your clothes were scattered on the floor and he was lodged between your thighs, his tongue working its way between your folds, toying with your clit like he wanted to do that for a while. Your back was almost always arched off the bed, your eyes screwed shut as you turned into a moaning mess, the only sounds leaving your mouth besides that being begs for more.
"Max, please. Please, more." You whined, pulling on his hair as you firmly held you down on the mattress.
"Be specific, baby." He teased, swiping his tongue slowly up and down, teasing your entrance then sucking on your clit again, leaving you breathless.
"Your fingers, please."
"What about them?" He acted clueless.
"Max, i want you to fuck me with your fingers, i want them inside me." You sternly said, having had enough of his shit.
He smirked at your demanding tone, held your legs apart and pushed in two fingers that were quick to disappear into your soaking wet pussy.
A loud moan left your mouth and you immediately got lost in the pleasure he was giving you, the feeling bubbling inside you almost euphoric that the moans just kept coming, some of them riskily high in volume.
Your eyes screwed tight-shut and your head dug back into the mattress as your hands clamped over your mouth to muffle the sounds that you had practically lost control over. Just in time, Max glanced up at you and instantly disliked what you were doing.
"Let me hear you, babe." He sternly instructed.
"Max, Marc could hear." You pushed the words past your heavy breaths and locked eyes with him in warning.
"I swear to fucking God, I'll stop all this and leave you whining and begging." He spoke with determination and you could almost see his anger bubbling, "Take your hands off your mouth."
Just like that, your hands were back clutching onto the sheets as Max's fingers continued being thrusted into your contracting pussy, giving you an orgasm that left you writhing on the bed, breathing heavily as you struggled to regain your composure since your boyfriend's tongue was immediately lapping at your clit after that first release, eager to bring you to another, more powerful one, the only thought on his mind being making this night as uncomfortable as possible for Marc.
He moved his tongue up and down your slit, then teased your entrance with it, pushing it into your pussy a little more every time until your hands dug through his hair and you forced him into a consistent movement. Max also didn't hesitate to put his fingers to use, toying and playing slowly with your clit as if he was doing it for his own enjoyment.
"Fuck, i'm gonna cum again." You whimpered and Max had to resist the urge to smirk immediately. Instead, he guided you through your orgasm, taking ultimate pleasure in the pornographic moans leaving your mouth as your body trashed beneath him.
"That's it, let go." He reassured and he moved a hand up to pinch your erect nipple. The pleasure exploded in the pit of your stomach and your back arched off the bed as you released once again.
Max shifted his gaze toward you with a hidden smirk on his face and judging only by his expression and the glimmer in his eyes, you knew this would be a long night, one that would only go up from here, and as the hours rolled, you figured out you were right.
Several other orgasms later and after various different positions Max had you in, you found yourself exhausted, face down on the bed, your hands desperately gripping onto the pillows in front of you while your moans turned to whimpers as Max pushed into you repeatedly and at a perfect pace, feeling you clench onto his cock every time he hit your sensitive spot with a steady pace until you came again and he released inside you with a loud, straggled moan before he collapsed beside you on the mattress.
"Fuck." You exhaled as you relaxed your body and turned to face your panting boyfriend, the look on your face lazy and worn out. You just laid there in your post orgasm calm, blinking slowly and catching your breath until Max pulled you closer and wrapped his arm around you, giving your forehead a kiss and combing his fingers through your tangled hair.
"What was all that about?" You chuckled and held tighter onto him.
His eyes closed as he let out a small laugh, replacing an actual answer with three simple words, "I love you."
"I love you too, Max." You pushed yourself up and kissed his lips then proceeded to sit up, "I need a shower, i'll be back in a little." You explained to him and left the bed in search of your towels and bath essentials then rushed to the bathroom connected to the bedroom.
Just as you were closing the door, Max's head poked through, a silly smile on his face.
"I'm joining, babe."
The next morning, as you woke up in Max's arm, the fact that your friend was visiting seemed to be completely off your mind but as you fiddled around the room, grabbing something to wear, it washed over you that Marc could've heard at least part of last night's shenanigans. How could he not when the aftermath, even hours later, was shaky legs?
You pulled some comfortable clothes on and jumped back into the bed, shaking Max awake.
"Max, wake up." You patted his bare back in urgency, "Max! C'mon."
"Good morning to you too." He groaned into his pillow, burying himself further under the sheets.
"Max, what if Marc heard us?" You gave in and laid on his back, asking the question right into his ear.
With his eyes still shut, he laughed at that. The fucker laughed and suddenly you understood why he insisted you don't muffle the sounds yesterday.
"Oh my fucking god, you did not!" You swatted his shoulder, "How am i supposed to look him in the eye now?" Just like that, you were back on your feet.
"I don't care. For all i know, i would have gotten it through, that he has no chance with you."  He boasted and he turned onto his back, "Plus, i was enjoying your sounds too much for you to hold them back for that guy's comfort. This is our place after all."
Your thoughts started racing and for a minute, deep down, you had to admit that the situation was amusing in some twisted way, even more to you than it was to Max but you let that go for now. It was gonna be embarrassing nonetheless to spend the day with Marc now. Deep down you still had hope you would get away with this, that he didn't hear a single thing. Maybe he was the kind of people that slept with earbuds in or something of that sort.
Clinging onto that hope, you emerged out of the room and made your way to the kitchen, needing a cup of coffee. Thankfully, the kitchen was still empty and quiet, warm with soft sunshine peaking through the window.
As soon as the coffee machine was on, you peaked your head into the hallway, checking for any traces that Marc might've woken up, but his bedroom door was still shut and no sounds were heard from him.
Taking a seat by the kitchen table, you pulled out your phone to keep yourself occupied, scrolling through your social media pages and the various posts on there until Max, now dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, joined you in the kitchen with a stupid grin on his face.
The minutes passed and before you knew it, you heard Marc's door unlock, the sound quickly being followed by the one of his footsteps in the hallway.
"Max, don't make him uncomfortable, okay?" You warned your boyfriend in a rushed whisper and received a smirk from him just as Marc walked in.
"Uhh," he stared weirdly at the difference between your expression and Max's, "hello- Good morning, i mean." Marc scratched the back of his head in discomfort.
"Good morning, mate!" Max cheerily said, leaving his chair and walking toward your friend, "You slept well?" He patted his shoulder in a bit of a too rough greeting.
You flashed him a glare immediately but it went unnoticed.
"Yeah, i slept okay." Marc took a few steps away from Max's towering figure. It really wasn't helping, the fact that Max was quite taller than him.
"Marc, do you still take your coffee black?" You left your mug on the table and got up to serve your guest.
"Black is fine." He replied shortly with a tight lipped smile so you poured him a cup and the three of you sat in the kitchen for a while.
It was safe to say that breakfast was the most uncomfortable of your life. Max's hand was firm on your thigh every time you sat and every time you got up, he found an excuse to then allowed his hands to wander either to your waist or shoulders. He was being touchier than he has ever been and Marc was obviously noticing the clinginess, his body language portraying easily how uncomfortable he felt, especially since Max wasn't sparing him of the quick smirks and challenging eyes he repeatedly shot his way.
Luckily, Marc had a few things to do around the city throughout the day so he left the apartment shortly after breakfast, leaving you and Max alone to lounge around, the laziness only interrupted for an hour when Max decided to work out and you decided yo watch him, what mildly turned you on, leading to a bit of making out on the living room couch, only to be startled by the doorbell just as it started getting heated.
"Fucking hell..." Max groaned into your mouth and sat up, reaching for a cushion to hide his boner as you fixed your shirt and got up to open the door.
Obviously, Marc was stood there, smiling with takeout containers in his hands, his smile turning awkward when he took notice of your messy hair, plump lips and Max's weird sitting position.
"I brought lunch, i guess." He treaded in carefully.
"Thank you, Marc! You really didn't have to." You thanked as you walked behind him, attempting to fix your hair with your hands.
"Oh, it's nothing!" He reassured.
Minutes later, the three of you were gathered around the dining table, eating and chatting, the latter only being done occasionally to break the silence.
"Thanks for the food, mate." Max, the first to finish eating thanked and got up, "I think I'm gonna take a nap. I slept awful last night." He excused himself and left the room.
You quickly took notice of Marc’s blushing face.
Silence reigned until it could be heard that Max was in the room with the door closed. That’s when Marc started talking again.
“Girl, i though you were getting murdered last night! He can’t be that good, right?”
“Shit, i’m so so sorry. We just got a bit carried away. I think he sees you as a competition and wants to prove a point.” You rubbed at your forehead in embarrassment.
“Wait…” Marc dragged the word on, “You didn’t tell him?”
“No! I didn’t know if you wanted me to! You’re not out to many people yet and i didn’t want to cross any boundaries.” You explained yourself and watched Marc burst out laughing.
“Oh my god.” He wheezed, “This is fucking hilarious! And i was out here thinking why the fuck he was almost groping you.” He leaned back in his chair, holding his stomach as he laughed.
“Oh, shut up!” You pouted away a smile, “You want me to tell him? That’s okay with you?”
“Yeah, that’s okay! But this is funny, honestly. Wait until i leave and tell him.”
And just like that you had a deal.
Over the next two days that Marc was staying for, Max got more and more possessive but that was only because your friend was also going out of his way to act extra affectionate towards you, for example ruffling your hair as he passed by you, or putting on your favorite songs while he helped you cook.
Then, Marc would be struggling to contain his laughter when after those acts, Max would pull you onto his lap while watching movies in the evening and kiss you for a bit too long when he left for the bathroom.
The day Marc left, as he was saying his goodbyes and thank yous, he whispered quickly in your ear to let him know how Max reacts and right them and there, you almost lost it and burst out in laughter but you bit your tongue and pushed the urge away, watched the firm handshake Max was giving Marc with a glare and a smirk on his face.
When he shut the door and turned towards you, he was quick to complain again.
“Even his name is fucking similar to mine.” He huffed and started walking back to the living room.
Smiling, you trailed after him slowly.
“Max…” you started, dragging his name on.
“What’s with the tone?” He sat on the couch and gestured for you to join him.
Taking a seat by him, you spoke: “I need to tell you something.”
With an anxious look now on his face, he told you to continue.
“Marc is gay.” You giggled and watched his expression change into disbelief.
“No.” He said in surprise.
“Yes, babe.” You burst out laughing.
“That’s not funny. You should’ve told me.” He pouted.
You moved onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Oh, c’mon. It’s kinda funny.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It is.” You kissed his pouting lips, laughing a bit into the kiss.
“It kinda is. And i like it when you’re jealous.” You reassured between pecks.
“You do?” He smiled slightly.
“I do.”
“I can still be jealous, you know?”
You tried arguing that there was no excuse for him to be now but as he carried you to the bedroom, he insisted that he could still act as if he was, a suggestion you agreed on quickly, feeling him start to kiss your neck.
“It’s kinda funny though, right?” You tried again as he pushed the bedroom door open then laid you down on the bed.
“It’s not.” He kissed you deeply, biting on your lip, “and i suggest you stop saying it is so you don’t make our next activities” he smirked, “harder for yourself.”
Laughing, you nodded and relaxed into the kiss, knowing that the past few days were something you’d remember forever and that Max would start to find the humor in their happenings soon enough.
1K notes · View notes
fleurrreads · 2 months
Text
☆ the bet max verstappen x reader
a/n: when seeing this picture my mind immediately went to max betting that he’d win this race even tho the conditions were absolutely shit and he started way down on the grid in the worst possible position. enjoy while we wait for the season to start ♡ this is also my first f1 fic so be nice lmao
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“no way. there’s absolutely no way you’re winning this race. i’d bet good money on this.” you’re sitting in max’s garage. the rain has started to drizzle and you swear you saw lightning off in the distance. you’re so sure that with the current circumstances, he couldn’t win.
there’s a glint of mischief in max’s eyes as he smirks at you, “what use is more money to me. if i win this race, you have to go on a date with me. if i don’t win, i’ll give you whatever you want.” he grabs his balaclava, putting it over his face, followed by his helmet.
you should’ve probably been weary going into this bet with him, from how confident he was that he would win. but you weren’t even taking it as an option that he’d win. lewis had pole, with charles short on his heels. there was no way in hell he would be able to get past them. so with that thought you shake his hand, “deal.” max’s eyes crinkle as he smiles.
the little laugh he gave you as he left for the track should’ve been a warning for what was to come.
Tumblr media
he won. of course he did. he’s the only person who could start the race at p15 and end it the winner. max’s smile from the podium said a thousand words. the croud’s loud cheering seemed to make him smile brighter. you see him look around the crowd, trying to find your eyes in the ocean of navy clothes. as soon as he did, his smile turned into a knowing smirk that you wouldn’t admit made your heart flutter. damn heart palpitations. you should really check that out.
you guess you have a date now?
Tumblr media
reblogs and comments are much appreciated ! ♡
205 notes · View notes
Text
teddy bears & blankets | m. verstappen
pairing: max verstappen x leclerc!reader
word count: 2.3k words
request: yes, by anon: “hear me out…single mum who’s a leclerc and max👀”
prompt: character a can’t wrap gifts to save their life. character b is their neighbor and can help. from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: a baby, fluffy max, a sick baby:( language maybe, kinda angsty in the middle.
a/n: day 5! i really didn’t plan to write three kid fics in a row, but oh well. REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, EVEN IF IT’S FOR THE SPECIAL. pls, i don’t want to close my askbox but if i keep getting i’ll have to turn it off.
my masterlist / 25 days of christmas masterlist
Tumblr media
he sighed, tossing yet another piece of wrapping paper aside. max was talented in many different things, but wrapping gifts just wasn’t one of them. he was already stressed enough having to buy a gift for a christmas party he had forgotten about, spending almost two hours in line at a store, and now he had no idea how to wrap this box. 
when he was sure that the paper was large enough to cover it completely, once he started placing the adhesive tape either one side was larger than the other or he placed it in a way that just didn’t work. he decided to just give up and place a bow on top. 
he put on his coat, with the gift in one hand and keys in the other. he stepped out and closed the door, and was about to place the key in the keyhole when he heard the sound of the elevator arrive at his floor. he turned his head, seeing his neighbor and her daughter.
“hi, max,” she said, waving her free hand at him, the other one was holding her sleeping child. “i thought you’d be at charles’ by now,” she smiled.
“yeah, that’s where i’m heading, i just… i couldn’t figure out how to wrap this,” he held up the gift, “but i gave up,” he chuckled, watching her shift her weight from one leg to the other, “let me help you,” he said, opening his arms to grab the child. 
when max found out a few months ago that his new next-door neighbor had a one-year-old baby he feared the worst. he was used to the peace and quiet of having a floor all to himself, and a baby would undoubtedly break that silence he cherished so much. but that wasn’t the case with (y/n) and alison leclerc. 
alison was probably the best, well-behaved child max had ever met, he was used to his nephews, rowdy and a little bratty if he was being honest, but alison was soft, gentle, not too noisy and always staring up at him with eyes that looked just like charles’.
“she’ll wake up, can you get the door, please?” she asked, handing him the keys. he nodded and opened the door for her. “thank you,” she turned on the lights, “make yourself at home, i’ll put this little one to bed and i’ll help you with that,” she smiled at him.
“oh, no, you don’t have to- i-”
“my brother has been working all day for this dinner to be perfect, he won’t let you in if you show up with an unwrapped gift.” she raised an eyebrow, “he’s been freaking out all day, so, for the sake of charles’ health, let me wrap that gift for you,” she used her mom voice, giving him one last look before walking to ali’s room.
“yes, ma’am,” max said, running to his place to grab the leftover wrapping paper. he returned just as she was walking back, still with alison in her arms, but this time the baby was awake. “what happened?” he asked, a smile on his face as he looked at the baby, with sleep evident in her eyes, her cheeks an intense shade of pink. 
“it’s like a curse,” she sighed, “right when i was placing her head on the pillow she woke up,” she placed ali on the counter, the baby immediately turning to crawl away, “nope, ali-”
“i’ll play with her, if that’s okay,” max offered. “a favor for a favor,” he said, walking to the little girl.
“what do you say ali? want to play with max?” she asked the girl, who had made her way to the fruit bowl and was playing with a small clementine. 
“mash,” ali said, trying to say max. he smiled.
max entertained the baby, letting her pick whatever she wanted to play with. she kept coming back to the small clementine, and as the girl’s mother was cutting the right amount of paper, ali handed him the clementine.
“you want me to eat it?” he asked, grabbing the fruit and lifting it up to his lips.
alison laughed, squealing and clapping her hands. 
“thank you, ali, that’s the best fruit i’ve ever had!” max opened his hand, lifting it in front of ali’s face. “high five,” he said, grabbing ali’s hand and clapping it against his own. ali laughed, doing it again and again, each time harder than the last. “ow,” he said, shaking his hand after one particularly hard clap. 
“ali, gentle,” her mother reminded her. max turned to the older leclerc girl, seeing her already done with the gift. “here you go, you’re free to leave now,” max inspected the gift, she’d even managed to make a bow out of the same paper.
“how did you do that?” he asked, staring at her in awe. she only shrugged.
“i’m multitalented,”
“can i come to you every time i need a gift wrapped?”
“yeah! we love having guests, don’t we, ali?” she asked, the girl had leaned against max’s torso, he was leaning against the edge of the counter, where ali was sitting to make sure she didn’t fall or crawl away. 
“i think she’s falling asleep.” he said, pressing a hand to the back of her head to support her.
“thank god,” she sighed, “i thought it was going to be another sleepless night.”
“she’s got issues sleeping at night?”
“lately, yeah.”
“i’ve never heard her,” max said, the leclercs apartment was always so quiet it almost felt like no one lived there.
“she’s not a crier. she just stares around,” 
“well…” he said, doubting for a second if he really wanted to say it, but he decided to do it, “feel free to stop by if you need anything. i mean it, whether it’s to entertain ali or… if you need company.”
he knew that parenting was already hard with both parents around, and he couldn’t imagine how difficult it was being a single parent. and he liked her, they knew each other since they were kids and had grown up together in a way, with her always tagging along to charles’ races and events. 
“thank you,” she said, walking closer to them, “and the same goes to you, mi casa es tu casa.” she smiled at him.
alison moved her head, extending her arms
“mama,” she yawned. 
“i think i’ll leave, she needs all the rest she can get,”
“yeah,” she nodded. “have a nice night, max.”
“thank you, you too.”
-
it was two weeks later, and again, max was struggling to decide whether he really should ask (y/n) for help. throughout those two weeks theyy had managed to run into each other more than the entire time they'd been neighbors. max would always pay a little extra attention to them, whether it was helping her with whatever she was carrying, opening the door for her, or holding alison in his arms. 
he could say that they were starting to become close friends, and after two weeks he found himself looking forward to seek her help.
he was standing in front of his mirror brushing his hair to make sure it was in place. he looked down to his bottles of cologne, and he grabbed one, how finger ready to apply it, but thought about alison, if the girl was to get close to him the chemicals from the fragrance could irritate her. 
he walked out of his room, with the roll of wrapping paper and the gift under his arm, something inside of him moved at the thought of seeing them again. 
he lifted his fist to knock on the door, waiting for the usual stomping of little feet or her soft voice. he waited a few seconds before knocking again. 
he heard soft whimpers getting louder, and soft shushing as the door opened. his face fell as he saw the state of both girls.
“what happened?” he asked immediately, seeing them both in their pjs, with alison crying soundlessly and her mother looking like she was on the verge of tears as well.
“i’m sorry, max, i- i can’t help you right now i-”
“no, no, forget about this, what’s wrong?” he asked, and right as he finished talking alison started coughing.
“she’s sick, and she can’t sleep and… god, i feel so… powerless,” she said, rubbing her hand up and down the baby’s back, “i wish i could make her feel okay but-” she shook her head, rubbing a hand down her face as tears started falling from her eyes.
“hey, it’s alright,” max whispered, walking in and wrapping his arm around her, “have you called her doctor?”
“yeah, he already prescribed the medicine, but… i don’t know what to do now, she keeps coughing and waking herself up.”
“mash,” they both looked at alison, watching her extend her arms towards him.
“no, baby, you’ll get max sick-” she explained, taking her arms down, but the baby insisted.
“it’s alright, i… i can hold her, i don’t mind.”
“but you’ll-”
“if it helps her, and you, i would love to hold her.” max said, watching ali lean herself forward. max dropped his stuff on the floor and held her. he placed the back of his hand against her forehead, “i think she’s got a fever.”
“yeah, the medicine should help with that.” she said, wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “god, i’m a mess. let me get your things so you-”
“no, forget about that. i’m staying.”
“what? max you don’t have-”
“i want to. i won’t be able to focus on anything all night knowing you’re both like this.” right then alison started coughing again, and max rubbed her back gently, whispering softly in her ear, “there you go, get it all out. want to look at the city?” he asked, walking to the window overlooking the harbor, “look at the boats and the lights, ali…” he said, the girl leaning her head on his shoulder and yawning. “she’s sleepy,” he told her mom.
“yeah, she hasn’t slept all day. only for a few minutes before having a coughing fit every time.” she explained.
“have you called your mom? or brothers?” he asked, knowing that they would all most likely be there to help them both if they knew.
“they’re all gone. on holiday. we were supposed to join them but… well, look at us.”
“well, you’re not alone anymore. i’m here,” he walked to her, wrapping his free arm around her, careful with the baby between them. 
“you- really don’t have to do this, you had plans and-”
“and i can see them tomorrow or next week, that’s the least of my problems right now. right now you both should get some sleep. this little one is already falling asleep.”
“i just hope she can rest more than fifteen minutes at a time,” 
“you want me to lay her down or-”
“yeah, come,” she said, walking down a hallway and opening the door to ali’s bedroom. everything was decorated in neutral warm colors and was very clean.
“i think this is the tidiest baby room i’ve seen,” max said, hoping to lighten the mood. 
“you should see my room. we’ve been sleeping there since she got sick, and it’s not pretty.”
“i’m sure it’s better than my room even when i’ve just cleaned it.”
she chuckled, preparing ali’s crib.
after placing her on the bed and waiting for her to fall asleep, they both stayed in her room, with max on the floor next to the crib, ready to act in case she started coughing or woke up. they stayed there for about twenty minutes, in silence, staring at alison longingly. 
max had grown attached to both of them, and the feeling he got when he first saw them that night was something he’d never felt before. he’d felt the back of his neck tingling, his heart seemed to sink down to his stomach. 
“i think this is it,”
“yeah?” max asked.
“yeah. she’s not even moving around, she used to squirm around, trying to get comfortable but now she’s… i think she’s finally gonna get some sleep,”
“and you should get some, too,” max said, eyes widening at what he had said, “sleep, i mean- i”
“i know what you meant,” she chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand to muffe her laugh. “i think i’ll just stay here for the night. i want to be here in case she wakes up.”
“well, we should get comfortable, then.” max said, leaning to grab a big stuffed bear and placed it beneath his head as a pillow.
“you’re not staying here, max. you really don’t have to.”
“of course i am. someone’s got to look out for you. and i know you’re both totally fine on your own normally, but these are not normal conditions. you need a little help, and i’m more than happy to be here.”
she smiled, a soft, sleepy smile that made max’s heart beat faster. she pulled out some blankets from the bottom drawer of ali’s wardrobe. scooting over next to max.
“you’ve got the pillow, i’ve got the blankets.” she said.
“i don’t know about you, but that sounds perfect.” 
“a sleeping, sick kid, a mom in the middle of an emotional breakdown, a teddy bear and blankets?”
“yeah.” he nodded, sounding absolutely serious about his posture.
“you’ve clearly not spend enough time in this house.” she joked, sliding down and wrapping the blanket around herself, getting ready to sleep, finally.
“well, i would love to do that. you know, to… get a gist of things around here.” he said, unaware of the smile on her face, since she’d turned her back to him.
“we’ll talk about it over breakfast.”
“that sounds perfect. good night.” he leaned down, giving alison one last look, making sure that she was still asleep before closing his eyes to sleep.
2K notes · View notes
racinggirl · 1 year
Text
no more secrets || max verstappen 1
words: 0.9k (finally a drabble under 1k words lol) I just want to thank you all once again for the requests! It means a lot to me! I hope you all like this cute drabble for Max. I know it took quite a while, but lately hasn't been the best time for me mentally. Also, I'm thinking of starting an actual series, like a bigger story with multiple episodes. Let me know what you think of the idea, I already have a small plot in my head :)
My 700 drabbles requests are closed, however, you can still send in regular requests through my askbox
Tumblr media
The man that has secured his second world championship. The man that won 15 races this season. The man that will get another trophy at this year’s FIA gala. And the man that stole your heart from day one.
You and Max had been together for almost a year now, you started dating right at the beginning of 2021, after being friends with his sister for 3 years. You were always supportive of him, cheering him on, basically being one of his friends as well. However, you did not expect it to become more than just friends, because neither of you ever showered interest in each other.
Abu Dhabi, 2021. It was one of the most intense races you or anyone in the Red Bull garage had ever seen. You were invited by Victoria, Max’ sister, because the two of you always got along great. You were holding each other’s hands as you watched the safety car enter the pitlane. Your heartbeat was going through the roof the moment Lewis sped up, Max going behind him like a lion going after his prey.
‘’He won! He, fucking, won!’’ You had your arms wrapped around Victoria’s neck, hugging her tightly as she jumped up and down, making you join her jumping. He won, and you couldn’t be prouder.
During the party you and Victoria were talking, and drinking, the latter being the reason for your actions later that evening as the two of you made the perfect plan to scare Max, in his hotel room. However, Victoria bailed on you as she went to her own hotel room instead, leaving you alone in Max’ room.
That evening resulted in you and Max making out, the both of you being absolutely wasted, and the next morning you discussed the things that happened, for as far as you could remember. The two sides of the stories of the things that you did know from last night creating the entire, completed story. You complemented each other.
Aside from your families and friends, nobody knew about your relationship, and that was something you’d like to keep that way. Not because Max wasn’t proud of you being on his side, no, the secret part of your relationship actually came from your side, since you weren’t ready to be in the public eye, yet. And Max respected that more than anything.
Whenever you went out, you remained his ‘friend’. But whenever you were out of the public eye, you were the cheesiest couple one could ever see. Holding hands, heated make out sessions or cuddles whenever you were with your friends or family were just a few of the many things you did.
You made up for the moments you weren’t affectionate in public was Max’ excuse whenever your friends told you to get a room. And you couldn’t agree with him more. The moments you were together with your friends or family were rare, especially with him being in the public eye almost 24/7. So, the moments you were able to hold hands, kiss, or be close to each other, you took. It made your relationship even more precious, because you always kind of stayed in that ‘first phase’ moment.
Now, weeks later, you were watching him get ready for his FIA gala. You had joined him, because what better city to be in with your loved one than Paris. You were walking towards your suitcase, the beautiful black sparkly dress with the open back appearing out of it.
Max looked at you through the mirror, a frown on his face as he tried to fix his bow. ‘’That’s a beautiful dress, lieverd.’’ He spoke. ‘’But why did you pack it?’’ darling
You simply smiled at your boyfriend before making your way over to him. He turned around, looking down at you as you fixed his bow for him. Your silence spoke louder than words, as it made him think twice.
‘’Are you joining me?’’ He asked with the widest smile the man could possibly give. You giggled, looking up into his eyes as you bit your lip slightly. As you nodded, Max laughed from happiness, picking you up which made you laugh as well.
‘’Max! put me down silly.’’ You giggled. ‘’I need to get dressed.’’
And that’s how your secret relationship turned out to be not so secret anymore. The two of you were the hot topic the moment the two of you walked on the red carpet, photographers taking millions of pictures of the ‘new’ couple.
Max also thanked you in his speech, a speech he had prepared and only hoped to bring out to the world rather sooner than later. And he got to do it, the smile on his face whenever he spoke about you could be seen from miles away.
The cherry on the pie came when, after his speech, he joined you back in the audience. As all eyes were on you, he simply did the one thing that confirmed it all. His lips pressed on yours for a single second, the both of you smiling as a bunch of lovesick teens.
‘’I love you, so much, and I can’t wait to show the world how lucky I am to have you on my side.’’
1K notes · View notes
silvervioletvalentine · 8 months
Text
🖤☠️Sick in love ☠️🖤
Tumblr media
Pairing : Max Verstappen x teammate Cherrie!
Word count : 5k
Summary: - @be-your-coffee-pot so i have this little idea where like cherrie is like a driver for redbull right with max and they do not get along because they're both hard headed little shits. but this once before a race shes gets rly sick with high fever and what not and shes almost completely out of it during the interviews and press conferences and max cant help but yk coddle her a little bit. and they're on the couch with the rest of the drivers during the press conference and shes leaning against him and she just falls asleep and max falls in love lmao
Warnings/ AN- just fluff basically. Max and Cherrie are petty little bitches to each other . I hope you like it! @be-your-coffee-pot !! 🦋 I strayed a little tiny bit away from the plot but this is what I came up with in my sleep deprived , who the hell am I, how am I still awake. Oh my god it’s night time , form! So enjoy! It’s not edited because I can’t be bothered and that’s just not me. Lemme know what u think coxo
When Cherrie woke up that morning it was to her skin layered with horrible sweat , feeling like her blood was boiling yet as she wiped at her face with her trembling hand, all she felt was cold and clammy .
Groaning in misery to herself as she sniffled her way through getting ready , only managing to pull on a redbull hoodie before she was stumbling out of her room to see her assistant waiting for her , a look of concern immediately washing over her face at the sight of her driver .
Jenny gasped , taking in cherries pale skin and bright red cheeks.
Looking like a blushing bride despite the fact that Jenny had seen the most hottest of men flirt with her all summer, and not once had her cheeks even tinged with colour .
"You're sick." She stated the obvious in concern , knowing how stubborn Cherrie was and how much she hated being sick.
She liked to go into denial about it whenever she was ill, claiming that she was fine and that the flu and bugs going around never affected her. Like she was some superhero with powers to divert viruses and bugs from kids that never washed their fucking hands before touching things.
It was bound to happen sometime and yet Cherrie refused to admit it, she had work to do after all.
She didn't have time to be sick.
"I am not." She refused to be.
Head feeling heavy and the room spinning slightly as she clutched onto the table , blinking as slowly as she could as she tried to clear her foggy head.
"This is all Max's fault." She croaked out in distain as she let her body fall into one of the chairs heavily , sniffling again. Swearing that she saw the kettle move and dance out of the corner of her eye , but when she glanced over at it again. It had not.
She swallowed dryly , then winced to herself in pain as she felt sharp pin pricks in her throat .
"Fucking bastard." She sniffled again . Sounding like she had out a peg over her nose , barely able to breathe.
Jenny just rolled her eyes, hands on her hips , ready to hear what max had done this time to get the blame. Used to hearing the both of them bitch at eachother and about each other at every chance they got.
You would think that with max and Cherrie being teammates, that they would get along just fine . Both of them world champions and both of them leading nearly every race , always a redbull 1-2. And yet...despite everyone's wishful hopes . That just didn't happen at all.
Instead , Cherrie, with her usual attitude and terrible humour , had taken it up to herself to tell max exactly what she thought of him at the time.
Coming straight from Mercedes , she had not been his biggest fan at all.
But hey, she wanted to be a winner and she knew that redbull was the only way that she would be going fast enough to do so, so when checo was out , she was in without any hesitation.
And it might have went well had she been able to shut herself up. But Cherrie had a problem with keeping every bad thought and opinion in her head, having lacked a filter since the day she could say 'fuck' and 'you' in The same sentence.
Max just happened to be at the end of her target this time around and he was like a walking orange dot for her to focus on, refusing to leave him be. Going out of her way to annoy him, on and off the track.
She just couldn't help herself. It was too easy.
But it wasn't all her fault because max was exactly the same way. Both of them too stubborn and hardheaded , way too blunt with awkward humours that most other people just never understood .
They clashed like the red bulls that they were .
Max gave it back to her just as much as she did. He didn't hesitate in insulting her back, picking at every little thing that she did or said just to see the way she would immediately flare up and glare at him, threatening him creatively each and every time .
It was entertainment to him, he could selfishly admit it to himself . And no matter how much times Christian had tried to force them to bond and just be nice , neither of them would give in. Much too prideful to admit that they were both at wrong and that they were both just bullying each other for the fun of it now.
And maybe max wouldn't have been so bitter and upset if Cherrie hadn't started dating the biggest prick around after a particularly nasty fight they had.
Max , at the time, had stupidly took a low shot at her lack of relationships , telling her meanly that 'no man would ever want to put up with her bullshit'. When what he wanted to say was 'I want to put up with your bullshit but we can't stop bullshitting each other enough to even have a conversation.'
And he should have known that he hasn't won that argument when she just levelled him with a cold look and walked up . He had naively forgotten how petty she was . Because she had taken it up a extra level and come straight back with a brand new boyfriend to shove in his face , far too smug and pleased with herself as she watched the look of anger and annoyance on his face when she brought him to the garage , kissing him right in front of max until he stormed off in a rage .
He had dnf'd that race and things hadn't ever been the same since then. Their bickering and fighting had only gotten worse to the point where her assistant tried to pull her away from max as much as possible.
But only so much was possible at the end of the day . He was literally her teammate , it was in her contract to work with him and be around him. And that included doing videos and joint interviews together , she barely ever not go to see his stupid face. It was irritating.
"Where the ghost?" Cherrie croaked out , head pounding as she looked blearily down at the plate of food in front of her that jenny had made.
Her assistant paused, then blinked slowly "ghost?" She repeated in disbelief "what the hell are you talking about?" She looked around the room with worry as though an actual ghost was going to pop up and scare them.
But Cherrie just frowned back at her, looking equally as confused. "My toast. Jenny." She whined .
Jenny sighed loudly , hand on her face with worry . "You are so sick! Are you sure you're going to be well enough for today?" She worried .
Cherrie sniffled "but I didn't say that." She denied , slowly blinking . "I'm fine."
She then began to slowly eat her breakfast , toast included , in silence . Barely able to keep her eyes open.
Yet she still managed to let out a loud groan of misery when Jenny told her just who she was paired up with in interview today.
"No!" She whined , practically pouting. "Why are you torturing me like this Jenny? Don't you like me?" She turned into a baby when she was sick. Looking like she might cry as she peered over at her with wide eyes.
Jenny just sighed , used to her shit by now. rubbing at her head in stress. "Just play nice okay? Don't make this harder for yourself Cherrie. You're already sick, don't let max give you an even bigger headache than you have ."
Cherrie just groaned again.
Max actually paused what he was doing when he saw her sluggishly walk into the room, his brows furrowing deeply as he scanned her from head to toe. Worry tugging at his chest as he took in her dropped eyes and pale face , looking like a absolute mess.
He told her so "you look terrible ." He stated , shocked .
"What the hell is wrong?" He demanded to know coming over to her .
Cherrie just huffed tiredly , smiling a little because she has taken some strong pain meds right before they left the hotel and she could already feel them kicking in. Her head felt like it was floating away and her chest tickling like she was going to giggle.
But max was there, standing in front of her and looking at her like she had grown an extra head.
So she frowned back at him while scowling . "So lovely." She sarcastically replied "it's a surprise that you're not a virgin if that's how you speak to ladies." She said bluntly .
Max rolled his eyes , crossing his arms over his chest. Not taking his eyes away from her .
"It's a Surprise that you're not single. What kind of boyfriend lets you leave like this, when you're clearly not well?" He threw back at her, annoyed and hating that he felt so damn concerned in the first place.
He shouldn't care at all. She was a pain in his ass and practically loved to annoy him. So why did he want to carry her back to the hotel, wrap her in a blanket and cuddle her like a baby until she was well again?
That was a weird thought . He swallowed a little . Quickly pushing it away.
"I am single now." She let him know blandly as she pushed past him to head over to the couch set up for their interview .
"So I'm going to fuck all your closest friends." She told him with a grin, practically throwing herself down onto the couch. Yawning and sniffling , coughing too.
Max's frown deepened "you are not." Then he realised what she had said and had to fight back a smile . "He dumped you?" He sounded gleeful even to his own ears.
Cherrie glared at him for it "no!" She groaned out "I dumped him. He just wasn't scratching that itch anymore." She complained, giggling. Looped from the meds.
Max paused, then said "get a back scratcher then." Smartly like the ass that he was.
Cherrie just snorted "the itch is not on my back it's in my-"
Max let out a high pitched noise and quickly shut her up. Sitting down next to her. "Shut up! I didn't care. I don't want to hear it." He exclaimed , face flushing.
He then smacked his palm over her forehead , startling her . But his face was cold with concentration .
"You burning up! What is wrong with you?!" He exclaimed , worried. Brushing her hair away from her sweaty face without even thinking about it.
Cherrie slapped his hand away without missing a beat , "it's 'cause I'm so sexy. Like a fire ball. I am fire- so I'm hot- like- like.."she was looped and max didn't know whether to be endeared or scared by her behaviour . "Like the sun." She finished off , sneezing .
Max groaned a little , still frowning at her . Then the interviewer came in and he wiped the Worry from his face , not wanting the cameras to see him looking at her like that.
So he stared straight ahead instead , crossing his arms over his chest so he wouldn't do something as stupid as hold her hand.
"If you get me sick, I will kill you." He muttered.
Cherrie just snorted , coughing. "No you won't. You're too soft to kill me. You'd cry." She replied simply . Believing it .
Max just huffed but didn't bother to deny it. He may have enjoyed winding her up but murdering her was a little too far .
Maybe giving her a good shake  when she was acting up.
"Fuck you." He mumbled instead. Lamely.
Cherrie laughed "you wish. Grow balls first , i like sucking em." She joked.
Max went red , gasping and smacking her leg , flustered by her lack of filter. She had No shame at all. Giggling at the look on his face.
"There's something wrong with you Cherrie." Be hissed at her. Placing his hand over his cheek so that she couldn't see him blush. How embarrassing.
But come on. Hearing a beautiful woman tell you that she liked to suck balls was going to make any straight man squirm.
He was just a man after all. He wasn't immune to her beauty , just intimidated by her lack of charm, it was like dealing with the devil.
"Yeah." She looked at him like he was stupid "I'm sick."
He groaned. "So you admit it! You are sick!" He smugly responded .
But Cherrie just shook her head , sniffling agin. "I didn't say that."
"Yes you did!" He looked incredulously at her, mouth dropping open.
She blinked "no I didn't. Don't lie max. Your Pants can't take anymore fire."
He groaned.
By the time dinner time came around, Cherrie was well and truly sick of max verstappen. And Baffled and so fucking confused. Because he wouldn't leave her the hell alone.
He had taken to taking her temperature every fifteen minutes. Mumbling underneath his breath and forcing her to drink cold water when it didn't go down quick enough for his liking .
Then he was forcing her to tell him what she had been eating and if she had been anywhere that she could have gotten a deadly virus from. Hand cupped over her forehead in her worry , having followed her back around . Like a needy puppy looking for it's owner , Cherrie was exasperated.
She looked up at him in disbelief "I've only been where you've been max! What's wrong with you?" She moaned moodily . Head pounding.
She shoved his hand off her head , again, and stomped straight to the couch, laying on it. Closing her eyes and ignoring him.
He placed his hands on hips and glared down at her . Almost biting his nails out of worry the whole morning . She was clearly out of it , otherwise she wouldn't have even let him into her motor home in the first place.
It literally had 'no max fartstappen allowed' written in marker on the front . Yet here he was, and he was worried and trying to deny why he was so worried for in the first place.
It wasn't going very well.
And now he was making her honey tea and wondering if he could call out a doctor without her realising he had done so.
"Cherrie! You've called me maxie twice!" He exclaimed like that was enough evidence for Him
to be like this. Coddling her like a Damsel in distress.
She just shoved her face further into the pillow, frowning tiredly . "So?" She mumbled.
He huffed "so?" He scoffed while gently pulling her body up so that she would sit up right.
Ignoring her complaining and her glare, he lifted the teacup to her lips. Glaring back at her just as hard when she refused to take a sip.
"drink it Cher. It'll help your thirst. It has
honey In it ." He told her sternly , tapping it against her lips, not giving up.
She eventually gave in with a another stubborn groan, sipping at it while he held the cup up to her lips. Hand on the back of her hand to keep her steady so she didn't spill it. Like it was a totally normal thing for him to do.
It was not.
He continued in quietly "you've called me maxie and you usually call me asshole. So you're clearly dying." He stated. Serious as shit.
Cherrie sniffled, side eyeing him judgmentally . Heart pinching a little as she saw the way he was looking at her , his thumb rubbing soft circles in the back of her stiff neck without even realising it. Trying to make her feel better .
"Why do you even care? This is your fault anyways!" She accused him. Coughing.
He groaned, side eyeing her straight back. He should have known she would rope him into the blame somehow .
"how?!" He raised his voice a little then winced to himself when she winced in pain , quickly lowering his voice again . "How?"
She turned her stuffed nose up at him "you covered me in cold champagne in the rain!"
Max glared at her "because you won! Lando did it too!" He was incredulous .
She just  huffed stubbornly, because when In doubt blame a man . "But you did it with Cruel intention' you wanted me to get sick so you could win!"
He glared at her, taking the now empty cup away from her lips. Then flicking at her chin with his fingers making her flinch , wide eyed .
"I can win with you not sick, thank you! You think that I want to hear you whine about like chewbacca?!" He shot back at her. Annoyed at her stupid accusations. She was just grasping at straws, wanting someone to be annoyed at .
She gasped then , insulted . Wide eyes glaring  at him "I do not sound like chewbacca!" She cried out.
He smirked "you kinda look like him too." He said. Then laughed as she hauled a cushion at his head.
"Get out asshole!" She snapped. Too tired to shout.
Max just rolled his eyes playfully , watching as she laid back down. He placed a pillow in his lap, patting it. Casually
She ignored him.
"No. I'm not leaving." He stated seriously . Patting his lap again.
She side eyed him "I'll Hurt you." She threatened him. Sniffling loudly .
Her nose was red and eyes droopy, max felt his heart soften. She was always beautiful but now she just looked cute.
He stifled a grin. Knowing how much she would hate being called cute.
"What you gonna do? Sneeze on me?" He responded smugly . "Shut up. Come here." He patted his lap again, impatiently this time.
She let out a mocking laugh "fuckoff. I'm Not lying I'm your lap." She muttered, yawning, blinking and seeing three Max's.
She blinked hard again, and saw just one max looking down at her , sighing loudly at her stubbornness .
"I'll fuck off after you've had a nap." He promised her.
"You'll smother Me In My sleep." She let him pull her up and position her so that her head was in his lap instead. Too tired and head hurting too much to fight him on it physically  , but her mouth did.
"Bastard." She huffed.
Max just rolled his eyes , tapping his fingers gently against her forehead . "I'll smother you for real if you keep arguing with me. Just shut your fucking eyes so I can leave you sooner. You're getting on my nerves." He told her, twirling her hair around his finger. In awe by how soft it was.
She punched his thigh, he gently tugged her hair . She closed her eyes, huffing tiredly.
She was asleeep in minutes. And max didn't leave.
Hours later and she was still so sick and so tired and max was coddling her, it was weird and strange and they were getting looks from everybody that saw them together .
But she was too sick too care , just giving in and letting him baby her. She couldn't find it in herself to complain this time.
Maybe when she could finish a sentence without coughing her guts up , she would tease him for his level 100 clinger personality that had suddenly appeared .
The way he wouldn't leave her side, holding a flask of soup in his hand that he had made just for her after searching up a recipe on his phone when she was sleeping . He made her drink it from the small cup as they waited for their next press conference.
"You look like you're dying." He winced as she coughed horribly again "sound like it too." He added unhelpfully  .
She groaned a little, leaning into his side and sipping the soup slowly . Barely able to keep her eyes open.
"You loook like that all the time. What's your excuse maxie?" She weakly resorted back.
She missed the way his cheeks flushed at the nickname falling so easily from her lips, clearing
his throat and placing his hand on her arm to steady her. Just as Daniel saddled up to them, looking far too amused for his liking .
Cherrie paid him no mind but max saw the teasing look on his face and sighed long and hard ,
Knowing just what was coming.
He flushed bright red "what?" He defensively snapped at him already .
Daniel just laughed loudly "nothing!" He grinned smugly , then watched as max made her take some more painkillers. Taking her temperature again like a worried mother hen.
"You a doctor now?" He teased him.
Max just huffed "shut up." He muttered . "She's sick and I don't want to get sick too." He said.
Daniel giggled "then maybe you shouldn't be standing so close to her then. I'm surprised you're not giving mouth to mouth yet." He joked.
Then dodged the empty flask cup flying at his head. Laughing the whole time.
Cherrie was completely out if by the time the press conference was happening, body sagging against Max's on the couch. Not paying any attention and just mumbling her barely there answers , max answering most of them for her without missing a single beat . His media training kicking in perfectly .
Then she eventually went quite and he glanced down at her for a moment , feeling a heavy weight falling on-top of his shoulder. His eyes widening in surprise and cheeks flushing bright red as he noticed that she had drifted off too sleep on him, lips parted with small breaths. Frowning a little still in her sleep.
He gently smoothed the frown from her pretty face away with his thumb. Smiling a little to himself at the grumble she let out, squeezing his arm between her own as she cuddled up against him. Out if it, mumbling nonsense beneath her breath.
Then he looked up and caught Daniels eye,
His friend smirking at him as he held up his phone to take a picture for evidence . The other drivers looking between the two teammates that 'hated' each other in shock.
Charles was blinking at him In disbelief "but she called you a dirty, two faced, lying sloth last week." He was gaping, gobsmacked by the sudden change.
Max just flushed a even darker shade of red .  Not answering .
Then lando was giggling at him Knowingly  "-and you said that she was the most annoying person you had ever met. That you wouldn't touch her even if someone paid you." He pointedly glanced down at his arm around her shoulders and the way he was placing his hand Gently on Her forhead to check her temperature again.
He quickly dropped his hand and cleared his throat awkwardly "that was last week." He muttered , swallowing audibly .
Embarrassed to be caught acting like this in front of his friends. "And I don't need to be paid to touch her." I'd do it for free . Beg if I had to. He thought.
The sudden realisation was shocking and he actually flinched in shock to himself , hissing a little beneath his breath as he froze up just as she startled awake. Glaring up at him dazedly , hair sticking up and face sweaty. Delirious and sick.
"Max! For Fucks sake!" She whined , still
half asleep.
Pushing at his shoulder weakly . "Have you got worms you asshole?" She sniffled. Rubbing at her tired eyes like a child .
Max blushed , heart pounding in his chest as he just Looked at her with wide eyes, mouth gaping open a little bit.
Because what the fuck was this?
"Shut up." He weakly replied. Catching Daniels eyes again, his friends wiggling His brows teasingly .
He was So completely fucked. Oh my god.
The only problem with realising his feelings was that max had a problem with keeping his Mouth shut. The words were practically tearing at his lips as he carefully led her back to her hotel room, not taking no for an answer .
He made her another hot tea , placed a wet flannel over her head and tucked her into her bed without even blinking . Like this was normal, like he did this all the time.
He did not. But he wanted to.
He swallowed thickly as he looked down at Cherrie then , taking in her drooping eyes and red rosy cheeks, hair a mess on the top of her head. He felt his heart pound in his chest.
A year of being teammates  and it was just hitting him now ? Jesus Christ! What the fuck?
His mind raced just as fast as his heart was and he couldn't hold it in. He felt like his brain was going to explode.
"Cherrie?" He spoke up quietly after Clearing his throat awkwardly . Stood by the end of her bed still , hands shoved into his pockets as he looked down at her tired frame in the soft sheets.
She hummed, coughing a little . "Yeah?" She didn't even Open her eyes.
He took a deep breath and then without even thinking about it , his heart opened straight up.
"I love you." He blurted it out bluntly . Cringing deeply to himself as he did so . Face a permanent bright red as he tensed up, eyes wide and feeling like he was a bit to have a heartattack and keel over right in front of her.
His nerves got the better of him and he started rambling . "I mean- it's weird but I am so in love with you and that's why I was so mad when you got a boyfriend. Because I wanted to be your boyfriend and thats stupid because we hate each other-"
"We don't hate eachother." Cherrie simply
muttered. Still not opening her heavy eyes, but there was smile tugging at her lips.
Max swallowed thickly "yeah _ well-I love you. Okay?" He finished up weakly. Feeling sick to his stomach .
He watched as she took a deep Breath , shaking her head a little with a small smile on her face, cracking open one eye to look at him.
She hummed a little "max?"
He exhaled shakily "yeah?"
"Can you tell Me that you love when I can breathe through both nostrils again?" She casually replied. Smiling softly at him. Fondly.
Max rapidly nodded his head, laughing nervously  . Biting down on his bottom lip as he felt a rush of hope and excitement fill him.
"Yeah of course! Sounds good. Sounds like a plan. I like plans. Okay." He nodded his head again. Smiling widely at her.
Then he thumbed over his shoulder and awkwardly shuffled to the door "I should go. You need to rest." He stated , still grinning happily .
He opened the door, heart pounding in his chest. His head quick to snap back over to her when she quietly called to him
"Max??"
"Yeah?"
"I love you." She told him easily , yawning. Then coughed again. Ruining the sweetness but it was more than enough for him.
Max smiled giddily, laughing a little nervously . "Cool. Cool. Yeah okay! That's good- thank you." He rambled on. Giving her a thumbs up.
Cherrie laughed. Then coughed.
Max grimaced to himself at how lame that was , face a dark red by now. He hesitated at the door, about to leave.
"Can I-" he took a deep breath to gather his courage "can I kiss you when You feel better please ?" He asked her quietly, face hopeful.
His grin filling his face when she sleepily nodded her head. "Sounds like a plan maxie."
He sighed happily "cool."
"Now get out. Come tell me you love me tomorrow." She croaked . Already falling asleep again. The meds kicking in.
Max nodded excitedly . Feeling like a teenager in love all over again.
"Cool. Love you." He blurted out , happy. Then he slammed the door shut behind him, fist bumping the air as he laughed gleefully too himself .
Exhaling loudly  , he then held his hand over his pounding chest.
He sighed shakily "holy shit. She loves me." He breathed out. Grinning like a maniac .
Who thought that it would only take her getting sick to get them to admit it?
346 notes · View notes
gridgirldrabbles · 2 years
Text
Three Isn’t Always A Crowd
Tumblr media
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Y/N x Max Verstappen
Words: 5.3k
Warnings: smut, spanking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, oral sex
Request: Bestie I am inspired by the last vid you posted where Charles is talking about max. Anyways! I would love if you could write something where Max & Charles both like the reader and they’re fighting for her attention but in the end they end up doing a threesum bc both boys wanna prove that they’re the better person for the reader
A/N: I changed it up slightly, I hope that’s okay!!
When you had turned up at the Hungarian Grand Prix this weekend, you thought it would be work as normal before you could head home for some well-deserved rest over the summer break. How wrong you were.
You had been over the moon when you’d been offered a job by F1, taking photos of drivers and the races over the weekend. You’d had a passion for racing since you were younger, and the moment you had picked up a camera it was clear that you had a natural talent for photography, so this was a dream come true for you.
What you hadn’t anticipated was becoming such close friends with a lot of the drivers. You thought you might have been lucky enough to say hi to one or two of them every now and again, but it appears that many of them had taken an instant shining to you. Because of your close relationship with much of the grid your photos turned out better than ever, managing to capture the true personalities of each of the drivers through your lens.
You couldn’t deny that you were particularly close with two of the drivers, getting on well with both of them instantly. Your life was made a million times more difficult by the fact they were currently rivals on the track, both very much in contention for the championship title. Charles and Max got on perfectly well, but it wasn’t like they spent a lot of time together because of their teams. If they were seen as being close friends it would’ve made it harder for both of them on and off track. In fact, the most time they’d spent together that season was when they’d been trying to steal you off the other.
Neither were very subtle in their advances, both making it clear that they were attracted to you with their flirty comments and lingering touches. Not only did they want to make it known to you that they were interested, but they needed the other to know in hopes they would back off. How naïve of them, thinking that the other was going to give you up easily without a fight. Max and Charles were two of the most competitive people you’d ever met, you usually admired them for it, but when they were competitive over you it could be quite tiresome.
Especially when neither of them knew that you’d slept with the other. You were well aware of the fact that it was stupid to sleep with both of them, risking your job and your friendship with both of them if it was to come out. The anxiety the situation was causing you was astronomical, but it was like your body couldn’t control itself when one of them sent you a text at 11pm asking if you were still awake.
You couldn’t deny that the sex with both of them was amazing. Different, but amazing. There was only one other person who knew what was going on and that was Lando Norris, the first driver you’d met when you started your job, as well as your current best friend. It was killing him not to talk about it, being close friends with both Max and Charles, but he knew that it was down to you to choose between them or call it off with both. That didn’t stop the relentless teasing though, you could bet your life that he would make a comment about it every time you saw each other when he was sure no one else was listening.
That led you to now, sat outside the McLaren hospitality with the curly haired Brit as you had breakfast, FP1 wasn’t until after lunch so you decided to have a little catch up before he was too busy to see you.
‘How’s it going with your lovers?’ Lando asked as he shoved his pancakes into his mouth, words coming out muffled as his face got covered in syrup.
You rolled your eyes both at his actions and his question, ‘It’s like eating with a child,’ you said as you shoved a napkin towards him, ‘and it’s fine, just causing me all the stress under the sun.’
He couldn’t help but laugh as you buried your face into your hands, how had you gotten yourself into this situation? ‘You could just call it all off you know, just be friends with both of them instead.’
‘I know, but it’s like my body just gravitates towards them. There’s genuinely something wrong with me.’
‘What’s wrong with you?’ A shiver went down your spine as the Dutch accent flowed into your ears, your cheeks turning a bright shade of pink at the idea of him overhearing your conversation.
Lando looked like a deer caught in headlights so the responsibility of getting yourself out of this situation fell on to your shoulders, ‘Nothing, nothing, I just accidentally left my key in my hotel room this morning, I’m going to have to ask reception for another one.’ Believable right? Max was well aware of how forgetful you were, constantly asking to borrow his stuff when you were together.
‘Well, you know you’re always welcome in my room.’ His hand lingered on your shoulder before he walked off towards the Red Bull garage. You were convinced Lando’s laughter could’ve been heard from miles around as you rested your head on the table and groaned.
‘Lando, you need to help me, I can’t do this anymore.’ You pleaded with him, as much as you liked both of the boys you knew you couldn’t keep this up anymore.
‘Hey, don’t look at me, you got yourself into this mess. They’re both my mates, I can’t get involved.’
Before you knew it Lando was being called into the garage to look over some data before the first practice session, leaving you sat outside the papaya building as you finished your morning coffee. You were appreciating the few moments of peace before you were quickly interrupted.
‘Here all on your own?’ Your eyes drifted up to the handsome face looming over you, a smile plastered on his lips, his red shirt making him stick out like a sore thumb.
‘Lando had to go to the garage, I’m just finishing my drink then I need to get to work.’
‘You can come to the garage with me if you want, get a few shots of the car, or your favourite muse.’ He winked, or attempted to, in your direction, making you laugh. Charles had first figured out that you might be interested in him when he noticed you took a lot more pictures of him than his teammate and it had become a running joke ever since.
‘You make it sound like I’m Michelangelo, I’ve only got a camera.’ You laughed, the pink hue still lingering on your face as it often did when you ran into him unexpectedly.
‘It’s still art, your shots are beautiful, much like you.’ Your cheeks were burning by this point and Charles couldn’t help but laugh, he always knew how to make you act like a school girl with her first crush. ‘Do you want to come over later?’
His question shocked you, he rarely asked if you wanted to meet up in person, rather saving it for a late-night text. ‘Okay, what time?’
’10? We could watch a movie or something first.’ First. Because both of you knew what was going to happen when the two of you were alone together, it was like you couldn’t control yourselves.
‘Yeah, that sounds nice,’ you replied as you entered the garage, ‘now make yourself look busy so I can get some good photos.’ You managed to capture the beauty of his natural laugh, his eyes lighting up and his smile wide across his face. This Charles was your favourite. The one you could have a laugh with, the one who looked most at peace, the one who made you feel butterflies whenever you caught him looking at you.
The day flew by before you could even register that both practice sessions were over. It was nearing on 8pm before you even left the track, your stomach rumbling as you’d only been able to have a quick lunch before heading to the pitlane for both practice sessions. You couldn’t tear your mind away from the bath you were going to run when you got back to your room, trying to avoid seeing Max and Charles together was becoming increasingly difficult, and it was making you more tense than ever.
‘Hey, Y/N!’ You stopped in your tracks as you heard your name being called, turning around to find the Dutchman himself jogging towards you, ‘Do you want me to drive you back to the hotel?’ You were going to call an uber, but you had to admit the luxury of Max’s car sounded much better.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah of course, I’m only driving myself so hop on in.’ You caught up on the day as you walked to the area where all the drivers parked their car. That car park was probably worth more than you’d ever make in your life with the amount all those cars were worth.
You slid yourself in to the passenger side and buckled in as Max drove the short journey back to where you were both staying. Soft music filled the car, and you couldn’t help but glance over at him as he drove. He looked undeniably attractive with his arms tensed as he turned the corner, face glowing under the street lights passing by. Max saw you staring out the corner of his eye, ‘See something you like?’
Your cheeks flushed having been caught in your admiration of the driver, ‘Maybe.’
‘Only maybe? Maybe you could come over later and I could turn that maybe into a yes.’ His eyes flickered towards you, awaiting you answer. Your heart sank at his request, as much as you would’ve loved to join him you’d already promised Charles that you would see him.
‘Oh, actually…I kind of already have plans?’ You sheepishly admitted. This was the first time that Max had asked you to come over and you hadn’t been able to. You could tell by the look on his face that he was shocked at your refusal.
‘Plans. Mind if I ask with who?’ You knew he didn’t mean anything by his inquiry, but it made your heart beat faster and your hands start to sweat.
‘Just Lando, we said we’d have a movie night to get his mind off this season.’ He nodded his head at your answer but offered no response of his own, leaving the rest of the car ride in comfortable silence.
Once you’d arrived at the hotel the both of you made your way through the lobby, Max lagging behind making you turn and furrow your eyebrows at his actions. ‘I thought you needed a new key for your room?’
Your eyes widened as you remembered the conversation you had with him earlier, ‘I actually had the spare key in my bag! I found it when I was looking for my lens case earlier.’ You fished around into the bottom of your bag until you pulled out the key card triumphantly. Max laughed at your antics before walking to the elevator with you, arm slung over your shoulder pulling you in to his side. No one would’ve glanced twice if they saw the pair of you, you two had been touchy ever since you’d first met.
As you stopped at your floor Max gave you a hug and a kiss on the forehead, your face unable to hide the joy it brought you. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’ He asked as you started walking down the corridor. You replied with a nod and a wave before the doors closed and he went up to his own floor.
The bath you’d been thinking about was sure worth the wait, your muscles instantly relaxing as you sank into the hot water, the bubbles enveloping your body. You could’ve stayed there all evening if it wasn’t for your rumbling stomach, and you knew you had to eat before you saw Charles. Unwillingly you dragged yourself out of the warm embrace of the bath and to the phone on the bedside table to order room service. You mentally made a note to thank your boss for having room service be included with the free hotel room when you saw them tomorrow.
While you were waiting for your food your got yourself ready for the evening. Charles never expected you to dress up for him, he thought you were sexy whether you were dressed to the nines or just in sweats, it didn’t matter to him. You settled on a baggy shirt and your favourite joggers, if the two of you actually did watch a movie then at least you would be comfortable.
Once dinner had been finished it was nearing upon 9:45, Charles had already sent you his room number for the weekend, so you figured there was no harm in heading up there early. You reached the sixteenth floor without seeing another person which you were extremely thankful for, you could do without anyone asking what you were doing outside the Ferrari drivers’ room at this time of the night. You quickly found the door marked 1627 and knocked softly, you didn’t want to be too loud to disturb anyone else nearby.
The sound of a door opening could be heard, but to your horror it wasn’t the one in front of you. The door to room 1625 opened next to you and if there was anytime you had wanted the ground to swallow you up, it would’ve been then. Emerging from the room was the last person in the world you wanted to see when you had just knocked on Charles’ door.
Max caught your figure from the corner of his eye, his face being overtaken by a look of confusion. ‘I thought you were with Lando this evening?’ Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the door in front of you began to open. You could feel your heart sinking into your stomach, knowing how badly you had fucked up.
‘Good evening cherie, are you okay? You look at little flushed.’ Charles’ worry for you soon dissipated as he noticed Max stood to your right, his jaw clenched as his eyes met Charles’.
‘So when you told me you were spending the evening with Lando, that was a lie?’ Max couldn’t hide the anger from his voice, and he had to admit that he was hurt by your actions. If you didn’t want to sleep with him then you should just tell him, rather than making up excuses.
‘Lando?’ Charles’ voice was laced with confusion, feeling like he opened his bedroom door into a private conversation that he hadn’t been invited to, ‘What does Lando have to do with this?’
‘Nothing! Lando has nothing to do with anything.’ Your frustration was evident, your cheeks growing hotter by the second as you tried to figure out a way to get yourself out of this situation. It seemed like neither of them had connected the dots yet and you very much would’ve liked to keep it that way.
‘Why do you care that she’s not with Lando?’ Charles couldn’t stop himself from asking, he knew it wasn’t really his business but it was obvious that you’d lied to Max about spending time with him, so he felt like he had a right to know.
‘I asked her if she was free tonight and she said she already had plans with him.’
‘Well we’ve had plans since this morning so…’ If you could’ve slapped your hand over the Monegasques’ mouth, you would have. He obviously knew you didn’t want Max to know, but you knew that neither of them were going to let this go easily.
‘Can we not do this in the corridor please?’ You herded the pair on them in to the room, shutting the door behind you softly as you took a deep breath. They were bound to find out so they may as well hear it from you.
‘Are you going to tell us what’s going on?’ Max was stood with his arms crossed against his chest, a displeased look plastered across his face. Charles just looked lost, he knew that the two of you were friends but he didn’t understand why you wouldn’t tell Max you had plans with him, using Lando as an excuse instead.
‘I’ve been sleeping with both of you.’ The words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, the admission of guilt making you feel like you could’ve thrown up then and there.
The looks on both of their faces would’ve been comical if you were in any other situation. Both were shocked, and they soon turned to look at each other before cringing. You could almost see their minds working to think of all the times you had said you were busy, were you with the other person?
‘Both of us?’ Charles clarified as you nodded your head from across the room.
‘How long?’ Max asked.
‘A couple of months, around when you started fighting for the championship.’ You cringed at your own words, shame filling your body. You cared deeply about both of the men stood in front of you, and it felt like you had betrayed their trust.
‘Can Max and I have a minute to talk please?’ Charles’ question shocked you. You thought they would’ve been directing the questions to you, considering you were the one who had kept your relationships hidden from both of them. All you could do was nod before trudging back towards the bedroom door. ‘We’ll text you later.’
Making your way back down to your room you felt positively sick. How could you have done this? Why did you think this was a good idea? You flopped yourself down on the bed, eyes staring at the ceiling as you waited for your phone to buzz, but it never did. You could only assume that the conversation hadn’t gone well, both of them deciding that they hate you and never wanted to see you again.
You had no idea at which point you’d fallen asleep, but your phone was still in your hand and the clock now told you that it was just past midnight. A soft knock could be heard coming from your door, and you could only assume that was what woke you up in the first place. Pulling yourself off the bed you walked to the door, opening it to find the two people you least expected.
‘Can we come in?’ You swung the door open wider to let them both past, both drivers taking a seat at the end of your bed.
‘Are you guys okay?’ You knew it was probably a silly question, but you still wanted to know. They were two of your closest friends after all.
They glanced sideways at each other, ‘We’re okay,’ Max replied for the both of them, ‘We just have a few questions.’ Expecting this would happen you nodded your head; it was the least you could do for them.
‘Who did you start sleeping with first?’
‘Max.’ A small smile took over his face, but it quickly disappeared when Charles piped up with his own comment.
‘So then you started sleeping with me because he didn’t satisfy you?’ He knew it was petty but he genuinely couldn’t help himself. Max had virtually run away with the championship at this point, he was going to take any win that he could.
You couldn’t have stopped the laughter leaving your mouth even if you’d tried, but you quickly shut up when you saw the look on Max’s face. ‘No, that’s not what happened. We just had a vibe.’
‘A vibe?’ Max asked, scowl still very much present.
‘I had a vibe with both of you, Max just made the move first.’
‘Who was better in bed?’ The question shocked you, even more so because it came from the Ferrari driver.
‘I’m not answering that.’
‘That means one of us was better.’
‘No it doesn’t.’
‘Yes it does.’ Max decided to pipe up then, also wanting to know which of the two you thought was better. They were both confident in their abilities and you couldn’t deny that both of them were great between the sheets.
‘You’re both good in bed, I don’t see why it matters.’ The way they looked at each other already told you that they had planned something while they were alone.
‘Well, we know a good way that you could make a decision.’
The way they both stood from the bed and walked toward you almost had your thighs clenching together, but you still had no idea what they had planned. You had a better idea when Charles stood in front of you, his hands cupping your face as he brought his lips to yours, and Max attached his lips to your neck from behind.
You quickly lost yourself in the feeling of two pairs of hands roaming your body, you barely noticed when Max’s fingers started to lift the bottom of your shirt until he was pulling it over your head. The boys spun you round between them, Max’s lips finding yours as soon as they could. Charles focused on removing your bra from your body before his hands cupped your tits and played with your nipples as you moaned into his rivals mouth.
‘You’re both wearing a lot don’t you think?’ You said as you briefly pulled over from the Dutchman, his hands making quick work of his shirt as you turned to help Charles rid himself of his. It was clear that both men wanted you to themselves but that wasn’t conducive with their plan to see who was the best, so they reluctantly settled for taking turns for your attention.
As things progressed, gropes got needier, kisses got sloppier, and you couldn’t contain the moans that fell from your lips whenever one of them touched you. Charles was working on your front, hands massaging your breasts as his mouth alternating sucking on your nipples, his gentle touch sending shocks down to your core like they usually did. Max was back behind you, lips gently biting and sucking on the smooth skin of your neck, undoubtedly going to leave marks but none of you cared. His hands alternated between grabbing your ass cheeks and teasingly ghosting over your pussy which made you more desperate than ever.
Somehow you ended up with your back flat against the bed, Charles perched between your legs and Max kneeling next to your head. No one needed to say where everyone was going, it was almost like the boys had planned this down to each breath. Your joggers were slowly tugged down your legs, your chest heaving as your eyes swept over the two figures around you. Surely this wasn’t real, surely this wasn’t actually going to happen. Maybe they got you all worked up just to leave you all worked up and alone.
Any doubts you had in your mind were quickly replaced when Charles licked a stripe up your pussy before sucking your clit between his pink lips. The sound you made was bound to be heard in the next room, and Max knew exactly the way to keep you quiet. He nudged his cock against your lips and groaned as your tongue swirled around the tip. You knew exactly what he liked, having done this countless times before, and had him moaning in mere seconds.
It was hard to focus on satisfying Max when Charles was doing such a good job in between your legs. He hadn’t let up at all, switching between harshly sucking on your clit and fucking you with his tongue. If he was being completely honest, he could spend hours upon hours going down on you and he wouldn’t complain once. To know that he had you such a moaning mess to the point where you were struggling to keep your mouth moving along Max’s shaft had him smirking against your centre.
You could feel the coil in your stomach begin to tighten, your mind was so clouded with lust that your hand had to do the majority of work on Max’s cock while you focused just on the head. Your legs clenched around Charles’ head and he knew that you were about to cum, so he flicked your clit with his tongue in the way that he knew you loved and had you coming undone immediately. The vibrations from your groans were enough to push the Red Bull driver toward his own orgasm and you made sure to catch it all in your mouth before swallowing.
‘Good girl.’ Cooed Max as he brushed a thumb lovingly over your cheek, as much as people thought he could be stoic and aggressive, he was nothing but sweet with you.
‘Think you can go for some more?’ Charles asked, standing from his place between your thighs, his hard on evident through his boxers. Max knew he would need a second to get himself ready again, so he didn’t mind Charles being the first to fuck you, he had made you cum after all.
You nodded shyly from your spot on the bed, immediately getting onto your hands and knees because you knew it was one of his favourite positions. Max was almost shocked at how Charles didn’t even need to ask you to move, but he knew how obedient you could be when you wanted to.
He ran his cock through your folds, teasing your clit slightly before pushing himself into you until he bottomed out. Your body couldn’t help but collapse further onto the bed, head resting on your folded arms as you looked towards Max who was sat on the loveseat in the corner of the room, hand wrapped around his cock.
Charles gave you a moment to adjust before he pulled himself out and agonisingly slowly pushed himself back in until his pelvis met your ass. He set a steady rhythm, watching your ass bounce as you pushed yourself back to meet his thrusts. While sex with the Monegasque started off sweet, it often didn’t stay that way.
The thrusts got faster and faster until he had set a blistering pace, the sound of skin slapping being the loudest noise in the room next to your moans. Your eyes screwed themselves shut as you felt his hand land on your ass, undeniably leaving a handprint for you to find later when they had both left. While Charles was making you feel so good, you couldn’t take your eyes away from Max.
He couldn’t believe that he was watching his number one rival fuck you and he was enjoying it. He couldn’t stop the pace of his hand around his cock, your face contorting with pleasure making him want to decorate it with his cum. But he knew he couldn’t cum yet, he still had a point to prove, and to do that he needed to fuck you himself.
Charles could feel your pussy clenching around his shaft, telling him that you were close to your release. His hand buried itself in your hair before tugging you up so that your back was pressed against his chest, his other hand snaking around your body until it found your clit. The added pressure of his middle finger drawing fast circles around the bud was enough to send you into overdrive, seeing stars as your hurtled toward your orgasm.
With only a few more thrusts Charles joined you, pulling himself out and cumming on your ass as he usually did. Both of you caught your breath while Max went to get you a tissue. While he was willing to fuck you with Charles in the room, he wasn’t willing to fuck you when you were covered in his cum.
‘Are you feeling okay?’ Charles asked, his face showing his concern clearly as much as he tried to hide it. You nodded, feeling your hair sticking to your forehead because of the sweat that had formed there.
The Ferrari driver made his way over to the seat Max had been occupying while the Dutchman got himself situated on the bed, waiting for you to straddle his waist. You did happily, as much as your two orgasms had worn you down you were always willing to go for a third.
You sank down onto Max’s cock causing everyone in the room to groan at both the sight and the feeling. You moved your hips back and forth slowly, your pussy sensitive from the pounding it had just gotten from Charles. It didn’t take long for the both of you to need more.
Max’s hands were glued to your waist, hands guiding your movements with increasing speed as you planted your hands on his chest to give you more leverage. He wasn’t surprised that your body was so tired from what it had already been through, so he decided to give you a little help. He placed his feet onto the mattress behind you and lifted his hips up to meet your movements, thrusting his cock even deeper inside of you.
You were captivated by his big blue eyes staring up at you, and you couldn’t help but smile when he gave you a cheeky wink as his thrusts got faster. You looked over to see Charles enjoying the show, hand lazily stroking his cock as he watched you get lost in the feeling of the man below you. Both men thought they would be more jealous when it came to a situation like this but they were both surprised by how much they were enjoying it.
It didn’t take long for that familiar feeling to build in your abdomen, your pussy clenching as your hips moved faster trying to seek release. Max quickly got the hint and moved one of his hands from your hip to your clit, thumb brushing it in just the right way to make the coil inside you snap.
Max could feel his own orgasm approaching quickly so he flipped you over before pulling out and hovering above your chest, releasing himself across your tits. Charles, who had had to get himself to that point, not that he minded too much, decided on a similar course of action. He sprung up from the chair in the corner and the way you lazily smiled up at him told him everything he needed to know as he added his own cum to the mix on your chest.
Both boys could’ve exploded as you swiped a finger across the liquid now covering you and brought it to your lips to suck it off. They cleaned you off gently, and if you weren’t so tired you would’ve seen the pair of them glance at each other as they settled down either side of you.
Max got you a glass of water while Charles lovingly brushed his hands through your hair, your eyes closing at the relaxing, familiar feeling. Your body had certainly been through a lot that evening, far more than you were expecting, so you were ready to send both boys on their way and curl up into bed.
The silence of the room was stark compared to the sounds that had filled it only moments before, and you were almost certain they had both fallen asleep until Max’s voice broke the peace.
‘So who was better then?’
2K notes · View notes
norrisleclercf1 · 1 month
Note
Awwwwwwwww please give us more mafia max Casper and fabby. They were so cute 😭😭😭😭
Maybe blurb on fabby kicking Jos? Or more of Casper being adorable and not liking bad things 🥹🥹🥹🥹
A/N: EEEEEEEKKKKK I love these little hellions also Fabby is a little shit and protective of his brother Casper
There weren't a lot of time in your life that Jos didn't bother you. At your wedding he was perfectly fine, even nice. When Fabby and Casper were born he held them and even got you flowers, and sometimes those memories of Jos help you forget that this is the man that used to run the Dutch Mafia.
Hell you even forgot that at one point is was borderline abusive to your husband who was nothing but this sweet man who is the best father in the world. So, when Jos came over for dinner you didn't think twice about inviting him in. Max always called you the best of him, to far forgiving and willing to give others a second chance that it clogs the evil they have done in your life.
Max would home soon, running late from a meeting and Fabian and Casper in their room playing with their toys. So, with you standing in the kitchen dressed up as Max was having some of the other Mafia Dons over you wanted to impress.
"You try to hard sometimes," The comment caught you off guard, stuttering forward you regain your balance on your heels and stop the salad bowl from shattering to the floor. "I'm sorry?" You turn to Jos whose pouring himself another half glass of brandy. "You try to hard, it's annoying. For Max's little friends. Always told that boy he shouldn't have married you. Needs an equal." Jos shakes his head as you take a deep breath to calm your shaking nerves.
"Jos, that's very rude. The boys are upstairs, so I think you need to stop drinking. Max will be home soon," You comment, reaching over to take the glass out of his hand. Jos rears back and raises his hand and you flinch. "Mommy!" You jump as Jos screams and you see Fabian kick his grandfather in the leg multiple times. "You leave my mommy alone, you big meanie!"
"FAbby!" You yell and pull your boy back as Jos makes a noise and steps forward but stops as you hear the keys jingling in the door. "Baby? Boys? I'm home, Carlos, Daniel, and Lando are here. Charles will be joining soon with his baby girl and wife." Max calls and stops, the others almost running into his back when the see the scene before them.
You blocking Fabby with your body. The salad everywhere, and Jos's glass shattered on the floor. "Daddy!" Casper comes running down the stairs with tears in his eyes and Max is quick to pick up his baby boy. "Dad? What the fuck happened here?" Max jaw tenses but he stops and shushes Casper and bounces him gently.
"Grandpa was being a big meanie to Mommy, so I kicked him. No one bullies Mommy other than me and Daddy!" Fabian yells, he makes a bolt for it but you tighten your arms around him and Lando moves grabbing your killer. "Alright, let's go cool off big guy," Lando carries him as Fabby glares bullets into Jos's head.
"Father, what did you do?" Max is quick to hand Casper off to Carlos who quickly starts bouncing to calm down the young boy. "Nothing," Max takes slow steps and bends down, helping you stand he looks over you making sure not a hair is out of place. "Are you hurt my love?" "I'm fine Max, Fabian kicked him, I was just worried he was going to hit him," Max's eyes go cold as he motions to Daniel. "Why don't you and the boy all go downstairs, I'll text Charles we're eating at one of Carlos's restaurants," Daniel grabs your hand already holding your purse.
"Let's go misses," Daniel smiles and you give a wobbly smile as Carlos and Lando follow you two with the boys. Max takes a deep breath adn turns, his eyes a cold fire as he stares down his father.
"I think it's time, I taught you a lesson,"
470 notes · View notes
scuderiahoney · 15 days
Text
🍓lighter // a strawberry wine blurb
In which Max makes the bad days better. bc an anon on cece’s blog was talking about strawberry wine max, and i missed him, and for the anon in my inbox, of course
You’re on your way to yet another Grand Prix, and you’ve had a no good, very bad, terrible week. The travel to get there hasn’t been much better- long flights with screaming children and even more rude adults. By the time you wander into the Red Bull garage, you’re on your last leg.
It’s Thursday night, so you’re not even supposed to be going to the track. The plan was for Max to meet you at the hotel after he was done for the day. But you got there and looked at the empty bed and felt that tight feeling in your chest, so you got a cab and headed to the track. Your pass gets you in just fine on any day. Nobody bats an eye at you as you wander through the sea of Red Bull shirts.
Nobody, that is, except for Max. Max, who spots you even though he’s surrounded by mechanics, even though GP is trying his best to keep his attention on whatever they’re talking about. He sees you and his eyes go wide, and he calls out your name, waving you over. The sea of people parts for you. He holds his arms out wide and pulls you in like a magnet.
“I thought you were going to the hotel,” he says.
You wrap your arms around him, afraid if you don’t he’ll pull away too fast. You shrug and keep your face buried in his chest and will back the tears that fill your eyes. This is what you needed. This is why you’re here.
“Missed you,” you say.
He pries you away from his chest. You blink up at him, knowing your eyes are red rimmed and tired. He frowns and squeezes your shoulders. The way his fingers dig into your muscles melts just a bit of the tension away. Things feel a little less heavy.
“What is it, love?” He asks, brows knit together.
“It can wait,” you tell him.
He turns over his shoulder to GP. “Five minutes.”
“Three,” GP counters.
Max rolls his eyes, throws his arm around your shoulders, and walks away towards his driver room with you in tow. “For that, I will make it ten minutes,” he mutters.
“Max, I-“ you try.
He pulls you into the room and closes the door behind the two of you. Then he pulls you back into his arms. He holds on tight, the way he always does when you’re feeling overwhelmed, like he can squeeze it out of you. It actually works, at least a little bit.
“Talk to me?” He asks.
“You have meetings. It can wait,” you repeat.
“No it can’t. You came here,” he says. “Instead of waiting at the hotel. That doesn’t sound like it can wait.”
“I needed to see you,” you admit. “Had a shit week and a shitty time getting here and then I got to the room and it felt so empty and… yeah. Sorry. I know you’re busy.”
Max hums and walks the two of you over to the little couch. He sits down first and pulls you right into his lap. He wraps his arms around your middle and brings you to lean your back against his chest. You can’t help but settle into him, trying to let the stress melt away. It’s not easy, but he makes it just a little bit more bearable.
“You don’t need to apologize. I’m glad you’re here,” he says. “I had been thinking all day about how much I couldn’t wait to see you. This is such a nice surprise.”
“Even if I’m…” you trail off, waving a hand at your teary face.
“Yes.” He kisses your temple, presses one hand to your side to pull you closer. “Because as much as I hate to see you sad or stressed, I love knowing that you trust me with it.”
You take a deep breath, then, and let it out in a long sigh. Max laughs softly and reaches for your hand. He wraps your fingers together and squeezes. There’s a knock on the door, and he groans loudly.
“Max,” GP says through the door. “The sooner we start…”
“The sooner we can leave, I know, I know,” he says. You muffle your laugh into his shoulder before he untangled himself and stands up. He leans down and cups your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to each of your cheeks.
“I’ll be back to get you as soon as I can, okay? And then we’ll go and eat a nice dinner in the room and have wine-“
“No wine,” you say. “You have to drive tomorrow.”
He frowns. “Then you will have wine, and tell me everything, okay?”
You smile softly and nod. “Okay. I love you.”
“I love you,” he says back.
You fall asleep on the tiny couch and wake up to his attempt to carry you out to the car. You laugh and loop your arms around his neck, begging him to carry you all the way there. He does, because he loves you, he says. You know it’s true.
406 notes · View notes
f1daydreamers · 5 months
Text
𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐑𝐮𝐧 [𝐌𝐕𝟏]
Tumblr media
gif credits: @overtake
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader
Summary: Being caught in the rain without an umbrella isn't fun, but when you're with Max? Fuck it.
Warnings: literally fluff and a tad bit of argumentative banter?
Word Count: 1.1k words (4 mins reading time avg)
As you set your glass down, Max straightened in his chair. There was a restless energy radiating from him, a clear sign that he was ready to leave.
"Finished?" He inquired with a subtle hum, and you responded with a silent nod.
With grace, you retrieved your bag from the ground, rising from your seat and tucking the chair neatly back in place. The waiter, ever vigilant, collected your empty plates, and you extended your gratitude with a smile.
As you both made your way toward the exit, you acknowledged the doorman with a gracious thank you, and he obligingly held the door open for you.
However, the moment you stepped out but still shaded by the awning above, the heavens burst open, drenching the world with an unrelenting downpour.
Goosebumps instantly formed on your arms, and you shivered, the chill creeping down your body.
Max shoved his wallet back into his jacket pocket, his gaze shifting to meet your eyes as your head turned in his direction.
"M, the umbrella," you mentioned casually, expectant in your tone.
Max quirked an eyebrow. "What umbrella?" Your head swiveled entirely to face him, a glimmer of hope that his apparent confusion was part of a playful ruse.
"Very funny," you muttered, attempting a strained grin.
"What's funny?" Max inquired, genuinely perplexed by your reaction.
With an audible sigh of exasperation, you pointed skyward for emphasis. "Max, you do know what an umbrella is right?"
"Babe, I don't know what umbrella you're talking about." Max's bewilderment was written all over his furrowed brows and the slight tilt of his head, as if an invisible umbrella had eluded his understanding.
You replied as calmly as you could, "what do you mean? The umbrella, our umbrella." Unfortunately, the perplexed expression on your boyfriend's face remained unchanged, and another gust of harsh wind ruffled your body.
"I didn't bring our umbrella," Max confessed, his brows furrowing as he patted down his jacket pockets, searching for the missing item.
You crossed your arms, a mix of irritation and disappointment etched across your face. "I told you to bring the umbrella."
Max's shoulders slumped, and he withdrew his hand from his pocket, his expression reflecting regret. "No, you said you were bringing the umbrella."
Your frustration gave way to a puzzled expression as you uncrossed your arms, "I said to bring the umbrella, not that I was bringing the umbrella."
There was a brief pause, during which Max's regretful expression slowly transformed into one of realisation. He replayed the conversation in his mind and finally spoke up.
"Oh, you did say that, didn't you?" He admitted with a sheepish grin, his hand absentmindedly rubbing his neck.
"Yeah," you replied with a sigh, deciding that there was no use in getting mad now.
Max took a step closer, draping his arm around your shoulder, and you couldn't help but smile at the small gesture of warmth it gave.
"We could get a taxi," you looked up at his suggestion and scoffed. "The apartment's literally down the road."
Looking around, you pursed your lips. "We can wait here for a bit, maybe the rain will let up."
Max nodded, and you leaned your head on his shoulder as he sqeezed his arm tighter around your body. But after a few minutes of waiting, the rain showed no signs of stopping, so you both exchanged a resigned look.
Max's lips curled into a grin as his hold on you loosened, pulling his jacket off of his arms and resting it on your shoulders.
"You know what, babe? Fuck it. Let's make a run for it."
You raised an eyebrow, amused by his sudden enthusiasm. "Are you insane?" Max wasn't one to refrain from sharing his weird and wonderful thoughts but this one kinda had you thinking a few screws had loosened.
His expression remained determined. "Come on. We can't stay here forever."
His proposal filled you with a mix of excitement and trepidation, but you'd be lying if you said he didn't have a point.
"Fine, but if I go down, I'm taking you with me." He smiled and extended his hand out to you.
"Deal." You chuckled, shaking his hand before he intertwined them together. As you both left the relative shelter of the awning, the relentless downpour immediately drenched you to the bone.
Your footsteps echoed through the empty, rain-slicked streets, a symphony of splashing and laughter in the otherwise silent night.
Max held your hand firmly, not letting go for a second, as if the strength of his grip could keep you both upright on the slippery pavement. His shirt stuck to his frame, and water streamed from the ends of his tousled hair.
Your clothes were heavy and clinging to your skin. Your laughter, mingling with Max's along with some curse words, echoed through the empty streets as you both raced toward your apartment complex.
By the time you reached the entrance of your apartment complex, Max pulled open the door and shut it quickly behind you.
Your hearts were racing, and you were both completely soaked. Water dripped from your hair, and you could feel it running down your skin.
Max let go of your hand, standing in the lobby of the building, panting and dripping wet. "Well, that was fun," Max said with a grin, his eyes light as he messed with his hair.
You couldn't help but smile back, your heart still pounding with exhilaration. “Yeah, fun."
With a shared chuckle, you both headed for the elevator, leaving a trail of raindrops behind you which the cleaner would probably resent you for in the morning.
He pressed the button for your floor, and the doors shut. The confined space felt cosy and intimate, and you couldn't help but meet Max's gaze with a knowing smile.
He brushed a strand of wet hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender, despite the fact that both of you were absolutely soaking.
His grin widened as you shivered, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. The taste of rainwater on your lips was sweet and refreshing, you smiled as he pulled away.
He didn't move far though, "you know," his whispering voice a little husky, "we should probably get out of these wet clothes."
You met his suggestion with a glint in your eyes. "You think? And whose idea was it to go running in the rain, hmm?"
Max laughed, a deep and hearty sound that filled the elevator. "Alright, alright, it was a team decision."
You hummed and he leaned in again, kissing you a couple more times as the elevator made its ascent.
When it finally reached your floor, you reluctantly pulled away from your boyfriend, knowing that you needed to get out and change into dry clothes.
"Next time, bring the umbrella please," you said, your smile lingering.
Max's eyes sparkled with mischief as he responded, "After that? I'm never bringing it again."
...
Masterlist
922 notes · View notes
oh-saints · 1 year
Note
anything with max please! but please make it happy ending?
taking a little break from footballers, shall we?
you
despite all the success and achievements max verstappen has secured in his bag, there's still one thing he wishes to have but knows he can't.
max verstappen x doctor!reader
note: this is inspired by one of the scene from one of my favourite kdrama; hospital playlist (s1; 2020). i hope i do the drama some justice for its amazing rollercoaster ride (#spoiler) so max can be humbled for a minute. but this time, i happen to write during my family trip so this is not proof-read yet.
Tumblr media
when the name of his very bestfriend popped up, max couldn't hold back from smiling.
he'd previously told her that he's coming back tonight and asked if she was free for a catch up session. due to the nature of their jobs, the two friends couldn't see each other as much as they'd love to.
if he had his way, she wouldn't be working as hard as she is now. nothing in this world can make max's life better—and this was saying a lot when he's achieved everything earthly possible—than to have her at every race. win or lose, max knows there's always someone waiting on him to cross the finish line, as long as he's safe and sound.
nobody ever asks that of him. it's always wins, titles. no matter the cost, no matter the consequence of this very dangerous sport.
"hi—"
"can you come over tonight?"
max's heart immediately took a free dive.
*✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿*
"so sorry i called you very late into the night,"
she didn't let him express how much he'd missed seeing her. as soon as she opened the door, she strode back inside of her apartment. her hands immediately reached for the white pristine coat hanging on the wall as she passed by.
"i got a call from the hospital but my nanny's not picking up,"
max was still silent. they'd fallen into the habit of her saying the same thing and he'd remembered them all by now. after this, she'd cited her usual justification. "sorry, i forgot telling you about it because there's always someone calling me when i want to do that."
"sorry, i forgot to tell you—"
"i know, i understand," and max truly does. with how little monaco is, he understands she becomes a well-sought surgeon here. he's actually rather proud, if anything. "go save the world."
she looked up at him from behind the kitchen counter, and max swore she looked dashing as ever, with the gentle yellow lighting highlighting her features. she is one of the rare kind, one who never needs an elaborative piece of clothing to enhance her beauty. she is inner beauty personified—at least per max's standard, but supposedly it says a lot because max isn't kidding when he said he'd seen the bests of the world.
"thank you, max. you don't know how grateful i am of you," and that smile right there, radiating gentleness and calmness and pure yet gratitude, is the very reason why he always heeds to her whims. "but my kid's burning right now so can you do things i've listed down here while i'm gone?"
"sure."
there went another of max's resolution, even before he knows what she'd asked of him. he's so puny in her hands that his father once gaslighted him with her as a bait. so different to the cold, ruthless max verstappen everyone labels him to be.
after running through everything on the list together and making sure max understood them once more, for she wouldn't be able to be contacted for at least the next 3 hours, she finally put her arms to the coat hanging on her shoulder proudly. she reached for her bag, and when she was about to pick up the car keys, max halted her hand.
"please use taxi," he said, and she wondered why. "for my sanity sake, knowing you'll make it safe there."
she wanted to argue that there was no guarantee she'd make it safe with a taxi, no different than driving on her own, but she nodded wordlessly. she'd asked max to come down here in short notice, not long after he told her he was in town and only to make him babysit her kid, but he'd come with no question asked. taking taxi was the least she could do for him.
it seemed like the kid knew she left their home, for the cry ensued not long after, like a chick looking for the hen. thankfully it wasn't max's first rodeo, more over when his girlfriend has her kid of her own.
unfortunately.
"hey, hey," he cooed gently, and the little one scratched the teary eyes, crying stopped at the sight of max. he was always the favourite in this household, always coming here with something in his hands the kid doesn't know it exists. toys, actions figures, you name it. "are you okay?"
"maxie?" suddenly he remembered his sister's comment about his father instinct spiking whenever this particular kid was around. he'd even let them call him by his first name, no specific title else needed. so unlike him, when he taught leo and luka to call him by "oom maxie" or uncle maxie in dutch.
"thirsty or hungry, schatje?" max immediately picked up the split version of his best friend, and the feeling of being hugged back affectionately by his best friend's entire world contended the best feeling in the world for him. it was as if the little treasure was trying to get a hold of him entirely with their little arms and hands, like he meant the world for them.
like he is the world to them as much as the kid means the world to him. oh, if only they knew...
the kid passionately shook their head as soon as they tucked themselves comfortably against the crook of his neck. max paced back and forth for them, in hope his bouncy steps would calm them down.
"alright, lieve. you let me know when you do, okay?"
but he was only met by soft snores.
he peered down at his best friend's entire world, the axis to her existence, the reason behind her juggling her personal and professional world just to make sure they get only the best of both worlds. for that alone, max had already loved the kid like his own.
and he'd love to have them as his own, providing everything the kid's heart desire, knowing he could give them everything of it at a heartbeat. knowing he could give them what they deserve, after being deprived of a proper, fatherly love for so long.
if only she let him. if only she saw him as one.
but max knew it all boiled down to him. if only he'd denied her desire to get married to that good-for-nothing that turned out to be a cheating bastard she called her ex-husband, she wouldn't have to suffer everything of this on her own. the child didn't have to go through all the mess life would bring to someone so early in their age.
it pained him that he never let out the "marry me instead" that was poking the tip of his tongue when she'd asked you to be her men of honour. it hurt max verstappen to the point of no return, more than being robbed a championship win, that he could've had the smart kid with her instead from a long time ago, and a life he'd always dreamed of building.
with her, and no one else.
because he knew that whatever he was feeling right now, as he was holding her entire life in the home she built so hard despite the single-mother stigma, is the closest thing to right in this life that feels so wrong.
not even his multiple championship titles he had in his bag. not even the feeling of winning a race so many he'd grown accustomed to. per max verstappen's standard, that was given; with so much hard work he'd been putting since he could walk, thanks to his father.
his phone dinged, breaking his train of thought. it was the alarm that he'd set up to remind him of the checklist she'd made for him. the sound stirred the child in their sleep, and as they noticed him walking away from the room, they whined, "please stay, maxie."
like the effect of the mother had on him, he succumbed to the whim. but good lord, my goodness, there had never been something as liberating as that. it was a paradoxic feeling where you don't feel weak as you surrender yourself, instead it grew so much on him that someone needed him. it feels so damn good to be needed by someone, his heart soared so high as the revelation hit him.
maybe that was what max verstappen had been yearning for.
that one piece in his life that anyone around him didn't know how to fill the void. a home to go back to, he thought, as he fell asleep in such a ridiculous position to fit the crib's size.
but due to his lightning reflex towards every sound and movement around him, max jolted up when he heard a click of the door closing. it was small; he deducted it wasn't mean to be disturbing.
that could only be her checking up on him.
the kid was now drenched in sweat in his embrace, so he decided to change the pajamas first before heading out of the nursery. he did it as fast as he could because he knew she was making his favourite mushroom soup outside from the smell of it.
the pang on his chest came back as he got out of the child's room, only to be met by his best friend's back from the kitchen, busy scooping her signature delicacy to a bowl matching the set only designated for her and her child—his bowl—because it looked so domestic. they looked so domestic like this. they looked like they'd make a great family.
yes, it wasn't the first time they did this, but that was what made it hurt all the same everytime he came over.
"how was the surgery?"
just in time when she turned her body to him. she smiled immediately, both at the sight of a disheveled max and at the question thrown at her. max looked so bulky in the house full of her delicate touch, so different yet not out of touch, for his question brought warmth to her chest.
it'd been a while since someone had asked the question—the simplest question of asking how she'd been holding up at work—that didn't come out from her child's mouth. from someone who actually knew how hard it was to make a living. from someone who was genuinely interested at what she did. from someone all of the above.
"got a bleeding out of hand but all's good now," she'd spare the bloody detail later. right now, she just wanted to bask how peaceful their rhythms are as the f1 winner took a seat on the other end of the kitchen counter. "i hope my kid's not a hassle for you."
"you and your kid can never be a hassle to me," max made sure to stare down at her as he replied her, wanting her to know he wasn't kidding. "i love spending time with you two."
and it scared her deep down to see max so set on what he said. she could only hope he wasn't implying anything else behind his words, for she was afraid it would bring unattained hope to her heart.
despite her strong display she'd paraded around the town, she is only a human with two hands and feet and a heart. and she is a woman, first and foremost, who was once in love in max verstappen.
the real max verstappen before all the achievements, the fame, the titles. when max verstappen had eyes only for the glory, and never hungry for anything else.
but the one-sided journey could be so lonely, she never realised that. it resulted her finding love in a hopeless place. at least that was was she thought, love, until she discovered her ex was cheating with one of her fellow doctors.
so she knew she had to extinguish every kind of sparks before it grew stronger. especially now, where every of her decision doesn't only affect her, but her child also.
"spend your time for something else, max," she smiled bitterly now and max already hated whatever her mind fed her just seconds ago. "tell me, what's your favourite thing to do in your spare time? going for a vacation?"
"whatever it is we're doing now," max replied, soup still untouched. it frightened her that the eyes were not just set anymore; she'd recognised that winning determination anywhere. "wanna know why?"
she sat down, eyes trying to hold his, ignoring the fluttering feeling inside of her and set her mind to simply wanting to know the words he had in mind. max took it as an invitation to might as well break it down.
"because it's you. it's always been you."
652 notes · View notes
ditttiii · 1 year
Text
lavender haze
⇢ summary: “I like your stupid face. It’s so stupid. It’s so… I like it. Can I touch it?” 
⇢ genre: tipsy & risqué 
⇢ pairing: max verstappen x best friend reader
⇢ w/c: 1.3k
⇢ a/n: all my f1 fics have been moved onto @rosegasly​. all future f1 updates will be posted onto my side only. 
masterlist
gif? completely unrelated. i just find him ridiculously attractive drenched in post race sweat and disheveled
Tumblr media
You should know by now that you are terrible with alcohol after one too many puking sessions and horrible hangovers. Still, when Max—your reigning best friend, now world champion—crossed the checkered flag in Abu Dhabi, there was no other way the night was going to end. 
 Feeling the burn of bile creep up your throat again, you push forward on your knees, clutching the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl with all your might as you throw up what feels like days worth of food. 
 The cool touch of said best friend’s hand rubbing soothing circles across your back is as much a relief against your scorching hot skin as a knife moulded with thick, unadulterated guilt that is digging into the gaps of your rib the longer you are awake and thinking. His other hand busy holding your hair back over your head. While your thoughts aren’t entirely coherent, the fact that you are ruining what is probably Max’s best night yet isn’t exactly lost on you either. 
Tears sting your eyes as your stomach finally settles, only a hollow sinking feeling where there was once turbulence, and you can’t decipher if it’s the lack of food or the drunk realisation of what a shitty friend you make at the moment. 
 “i am sorry,” the apology comes out meek, liquid pooling into your eyes and blurring your vision. 
 “Schatje,” his voice is every bit the affection, love and exasperation that you don’t deserve and you tuck your face away between the protective curl of your arms over the toilet bowl. If you were a little less drunk, maybe you’d be disgusted, but all you want to do right now is hide away so you can’t see the forgiveness swimming in his gaze. 
 “You trying to hide the running mascara? Come on, you know you can do worse,” Max teases and the sound coming out of you is equal parts sob and snort. 
 Strong arms curl across your chest, resting slightly above your breasts and your heart goes into overdrive as you sit there torn between feeling grounded by his presence and your stupid crush rearing its head again to mess with you. “You gonna come out of the toilet bowl anytime soon?” 
 His breath tickles the shell of your ear as his chin finds home on the curve where your neck meets your shoulder and you can’t hold back the shiver that races through you at the warm sensation. 
 With a firm tug he pulls you back, your head lolling to the side of his chest and burying itself in his warmth and safety. 
 “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” 
 Another steady pull and he has you on your feet, guiding you to the sink nearby. The angle of your neck turns awkward as you wrap your arms around his waist, face still nuzzled against his signature white tee secured tight between the clench of your fingers. 
 Touch as gentle as it can be, he holds your chin, tilting your face towards the basin and you wordlessly turn the tap on. You are half tempted to drink the water but stop yourself from following through on that urge, gargling and washing the acidity from your mouth instead. 
 The angel of a man you blessedly call your best friend drags your ass out, giving you bottled water which you finally gulp down like the parched woman you are. Sated and no longer reeking of bile, you nuzzle back into Max’s chest, half-formed apologies spilling from you in an endless stream. 
 He keeps quiet, allowing you time to let things off your chest. After years of being there with the others most vulnerable, he knows you better than he does himself and as much as the sight of your pink, blotchy cheeks and drunken apologies makes his chest tight, he realises how much you need it. The weight of unsaid words always weighs heavy on your shoulders, and he has never cut you off when you open up. Instead, choosing to console and talk through those thoughts after. 
 What seems like hours, but is probably only minutes later you finally bring yourself to move away from his chest, the death grip you had on his shirt loosening enough to allow you to look up. 
 In the club’s dim lighting, out of focus, eye to eye, crystal blue spilling into the dark of your eyes, your grip on reality slips a little more. 
 “I like your stupid face. It’s so stupid. It’s so… I like it. Can I touch it?”
 Dark lashes shutter your view of the endless blue as Max blinks, a little taken aback before a smile breaks out. Rosey lips and pinker cheeks and the faint dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose and high of his cheeks. It’s him. With every breath, you breathe him. Amidst all the cigarette smoke and stale of old carpet under your foot and the sweat in the air; all you register now is him. Max. Your best friend. The one person you would give up everything for, knowing he would do the same. 
 “Go ahead. Touch me.” You can’t tell if his voice has gone lower, deeper, or if you have just pressed yourself too close to him. The vibrations from his chest travelling to you through yours from where they are against each other, not a hair’s breadth of space in between as you near. The lines between close and too close blurring in your indebted state of mind. 
 The last thing you see before your eyes fall shut is the blue of his. Cerulean and crystal, the faintest blue in the light, edges coloured a dark green in the shadows and its endless. Their depth, his gaze, the twin pounding of both your hearts, the heavy breaths and the sweat from the humid club over your skins. 
 His lips are every bit as soft as you had imagined them to be. Sweet like your most beloved candy, light as a feather as they brush against you. Hesitant, then sure. Worried for what could be lost but realising what could be gained. Gentle, then a little more forceful as your back slams against the wall and you groan. 
 It’s relief. It’s desperation. The way you have starved to touch him, have him feel you. Breathe in his exhales; let them become one in you to make them yours. Kissing him to mark him yours, having him in your arms and knowing you could never let go. 
 He grinds into you and it’s dirty and messy, more the high of your hip bones and the thick of his jeans than anything else, but his fingers still dig into the curve of your waist almost painfully. His ragged breath making you shiver when his nose grazes your skin and you hear more so than feel him inhale your scent. 
 He bites your lip and licks it better. You tug his hair, then caress his face. 
 It’s sexual and innocent and when its finally too much and you can no longer hold your collective breaths, you smile instead. Your lips curled into a smile over his grin and it’s suddenly okay. Everything the night has been and every sleepless night that you two have spent tormented over unreciprocated feelings leading up to it. 
 You fall into his arms as much as he does into yours and it’s like the last of your puzzle pieces slot into place. 
Tumblr media
848 notes · View notes