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#race imagines
heliads · 1 year
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All in the Words
Based on this request: "race and some of the newsies are hanging out with yn and yn is acting all tough. They keep trying to make her drop that attitude by making jokes, and race flirts with her as a joke. Yn gets all nervous and blushy so he just keeps going thinking its adorable until yn fires back and he kinda dies"
me when i flirt with someone and they instantly perish
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Dawn comes and goes, and you are not there to see it. Normally, this would fill you with more than a small amount of fear– miss your morning schedule, and you’ll be hours behind when it comes to selling newspapers. Newsies live in the daylight hours, shouting slogans and catchy headlines as long as there are still people out on the street who can see enough to hand you coins. It does make it difficult to get up so early each morning, but it’s not like you have a ton of options otherwise.
Yet when you open your eyes this morning and see not sunrise but a well established day, you feel not a bit displeased with yourself. After all, why should you? Today, as it turns out, all newsies across the city will have a day off. The newspapers don’t like printing on holidays, so you can get off scot free for the whole set of twenty-four hours. Nothing says special like that.
For newsies, days off are a bit of a mixed bag. There is, of course, the immediate response to hearing that you won’t have to get up at dawn and spend too many hours out on the streets hawking papes. That would explain the shrieks and calls of glee from some of the younger newsies. Older ones, too. The second Jack Kelly heard about the holiday, he muttered something about having to talk to someone and hurried off in the direction of the New York Sun. You have a feeling he’s tracking down a particularly pretty journalist.
It’s great to think that you won’t have to work. However, you aren’t a newsie for the thrill of it. Not working means you don’t get paid, and that’s far less fun than one would care to imagine. That’s why you’ve been carefully saving your pennies for weeks now, just trying to make sure you’ll have enough to cover today’s costs before your job comes back the next day. It’s a life spread thin, to be sure, but it’s what you’ve got, and you don’t intend to waste it.
Still, sleeping in is pretty nice indeed. You allow yourself one last moment of leisure before dragging yourself out of bed. Most kids in the Manhattan Lodging House have partaken in the same delights– more than half of them are still sleeping peacefully in their bunks. You do your best to get ready as quietly as you can, and shut the door silently behind you.
By the time noon rolls around, the rest of your friends are up and at ‘em. Most of you are choosing to either kick back and relax in the Lodging House or go look for trouble somewhere else in the city. You heard Spot popped in once to check on a deal with Jack, but other than that, there are no threats in sight.
None to your physical health, at least. Threats to your peace and quiet still exist. You’ve barely sat down on your favorite threadbare armchair in a corner of the main room (the title being won by a good few rounds of fisticuffs, all solidly settled in your favor) before your name is being tossed around by some of the newsies nearby. You have a feeling that they’re trying to be discreet, but their whispers sound more like shouts when you’re indoors instead of yelling to be heard in the streets of Manhattan.
Four boys are causing trouble today, as it appears. Race, Jojo, Albert, and Romeo. All of the newsies are good friends– you have to be, at any rate, or you’ll lose your head with the godawful conditions of being outside all day– but these four are no exception. They’re the closest of anyone here, exceptions being Jack and Crutchie.
Today it seems they’ll be proving their camaraderie by trying to get a rise out of you. This isn’t anything special. You have a bit of a reputation for being stone cold, but can they blame you? Girls have to fight twice as hard to stay alive in this city, so what if you’re more here to keep yourself afloat than make friends? You’re nice when you have to be, but you keep your distance when you want it. Just because you’re not flirting all the time doesn’t mean you hate the rest of them.
The ‘Hattan boys know you don’t hate them, but that doesn’t stop the four newsies nearest you from trying to win you over anyway in the only method they know best:  being annoying and turning everything into a joke. Romeo tries his luck first, shooting his shot with a tip of his cap and a wink. You arch one derisive brow, which is all it takes for him to give up and head back to his friends.
Albert is next. He starts off strong with a story about a dream he’d had last night about pretty girls going out with him, but you cut him off thoughtfully with a recollection of a dream you’d had recently where all boys left you alone under pain of death. Struck out, he gestures for Jojo to take over.
Jojo’s attempts at flattery are so awful that you give up on trying to entertain yourself by watching them fail. You reach over for a paperback Katherine had left behind on her last visit to the Manhattan Lodging House. The book serves the dual purpose of letting you ignore the laughter of the boys and also hiding your face for the last of their attempts.
See, you can ignore Albert or Romeo any day. They’re just friends, just coworkers. You’ll never see them in any sort of romantic light. The problem comes with Race. Race is charming. Race is cute. Race is the only one who has ever been able to get through the strongest of your walls. It doesn’t matter if he’s just doing it as a joke, if Race flirts with you in the slightest, you will be affected by it.
Best to make sure he can’t tell, then, so you prop up the book in front of your face and pray he can’t see the slight smile that makes its way across your lips when Race tries his hand at flirting. It wasn’t even a good pickup line. Still, it worked, and that is absolutely devastating to your reputation.
The worst part is that he knows it, too. Even though you do your best to act as if you’re absolutely fine, you can tell by the triumphant tilt of his head that he knows it. Y/N’s got a weakness at last, and it’s Race. Of course it is.
The other boys don’t seem to have caught on, though, they’re just laughing raucously amongst themselves about the usual. Albert calls something out to Race about wanting to go take a tour of the shop next door, but Race doesn’t even look back, gesturing for them to go on without him without turning even once.
“You should go with them,” you say as indifferently as you can.
“Why?” Race asks, cocking his head to the side, “I’ve got a far prettier sight in front of me right now.”
You roll your eyes, but even you can feel the slight heat pricking your cheeks. “You’re insufferable.”
“Apparently not,” Race muses, “or you wouldn’t be smiling at me.”
You do your best to hide the offensive expression away, but your best attempts at staying serious just make your smile more stubborn. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” he says happily, “it’s not just because of me, is it? I bet Y/N L/N would never be susceptible to something like a boy.”
“Not even to a cute boy?” You ask, eyes wide with pretend surprise.
This, of all things, makes Race stutter over his words. You didn’t think it would be possible for Race to get nervous over someone flirting with him, but apparently you were wrong, because he’s all but shaking in his boots right now.
“That’s sweet of you,” he manages to eke out.
You grin. The tables have turned. “Funny,” you say, “I didn’t think Race Higgins would ever be susceptible to something like a girl.”
“I love it when you pay attention to me,” Race retorts, but it carries far less of the easy confidence he’d had earlier. In fact, Race looks like he can’t believe his eyes.
“I’m sure you do,” you muse, “Shame it doesn’t happen more often. If I knew you were going to react like this, maybe I would have started flirting back earlier.”
“I think you should keep doing it anyway,” Race whispers.
You laugh. “Only if you flirt back.”
“Oh, always, sweetheart, you know that,” Race says.
It’s easy to smile after that. Maybe Race has been flirting with you for a while, but maybe he’s meant what he said all along, too. It’s good that you’ll have plenty of time to figure him out, then. Yes, plenty of time indeed.
newsies tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @misguidedswagger, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie
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pucksandpower · 8 days
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Crazy Cravings
Max Verstappen x wife!Reader
Summary: pregnancy cravings can make you (and your husband) do crazy things … neither of you particularly minds
Warnings: 18+ content and pregnancy
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You sit in the Red Bull Racing garage, feeling the warm Spanish sun on your face through the open door. The roar of engines and whirring of power tools surrounds you as the mechanics prepare for the race.
Your eyes are drawn to the iconic blue and silver cans scattered around the garage. Those tantalizing cans of Red Bull that everyone else seems to be drinking so casually.
Everyone except you and Max, that is.
You rub your rounded belly, feeling your precious cargo kick and squirm inside you. At six months pregnant, your cravings have been … intense, to say the least. But none more powerful than your longing for the crisp, fizzy taste of Red Bull.
The caffeine is off limits, of course. You would never dream of jeopardizing your baby’s health. But oh, how you crave that sweet, energizing flavor that used to be such a routine part of your life.
Max emerges from the back room, his bright grey eyes instantly finding you. He strides over, that effortless confidence and raw athleticism making your heart flutter, even after all these years. His gaze drifts to the Red Bull can in a mechanic’s hand and a grimace crosses his face.
“Liefje, are you alright?” He murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I know how much those are torturing you lately.”
You force a smile, not wanting him to worry. “I’m fine, Maxie. Just … ignoring the siren call of carbonated temptation.”
His thumb strokes your cheek as he studies you, clearly not convinced. Max has been so incredibly supportive during this pregnancy, abstaining from Red Bull himself in solidarity. Cutting out his biggest vice, just so you don’t have to be tormented by the sight and scent of it everywhere.
“We should get you out of here,” he says, looping an arm around your waist to help leverage your bulk out of the chair. “The smells can’t be helping those crazy cravings.”
You open your mouth to protest, not wanting to pull him away from his work, but a fresh wave of dizzying desire hits you as a mechanic cracks open another can. The fizzing hiss and unmistakable scent make your mouth water uncontrollably.
“Max ...” you whisper, feeling your throat tighten with barely restrained craving and hormonal tears prickling your eyes.
He follows your yearning gaze to the Red Bull can and understanding dawns. “Oh, liefje ...” Scooping you into his arms, he strides from the garage, shooting an apologetic look at his crew.
Once outside in the fresh air, you bury your face against Max’s shoulder, inhaling his familiar, comforting cologne as he carries you to the motorhome. He eases you onto the couch, brushing kisses along your forehead and temple.
“I’m so sorry, schatje,” he murmurs, anguish lining his handsome features. “I hate seeing you suffer like this. If there was any way I could make the cravings stop ...”
You catch his hand, lacing your fingers through his calloused ones. “Max, you know I would never actually ask you to give up Red Bull, right?”
He shakes his head fiercely. “Not being able to have it for nine months is nothing compared to your sacrifice, carrying our baby. I don’t deserve you.”
Pulling him down beside you, you cup the chiseled line of his jaw, making him meet your gaze. “I happen to think you deserve the very best, Mr. Verstappen. And right now, the very best for both of us would be ...” Your voice cracks with fresh longing. “A damn Red Bull.”
Max’s eyes blaze with sudden determination, that iron willpower that has made him a champion coming to life. “Then that’s what I’ll get you. If those tossers at Red Bull Company won’t make a safe, caffeine-free version for pregnant women, I’ll personally make them regret it.”
You laugh shakily. “Max, you can’t just bully a corporation into creating a new product line for one person’s weird craving!”
“You’re not just one person,” he growls, tangling his fingers in your hair and bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You’re my everything. And our baby deserves for its mother to be happy and have her cravings satisfied.”
Pressing a fierce kiss to your lips, he adds, “I’m calling them right now. And then straight to the CEO, if I have to. I’ll get you that Red Bull if it’s the last thing I do.”
True to his word, the indomitable Max Verstappen spends the next several days working every possible connection and calling in every favor. You catch bits of conversations, his clipped tones making it clear just how serious he is about this bizarre quest.
“No, I don’t care if it’s not ‘cost-effective’. This is for my very pregnant wife ...”
“She’s risking her health to grow an entire person! The least your company can do is make a freaking caffeine-free energy drink ...”
The crew quickly learns not to open any Red Bull around you, lest they face the wrath of an overprotective Max. Which is slightly embarrassing … but also incredibly sweet.
Your hormones most definitely approve.
Finally, there’s a break in the stalemate. Helmut Marko himself shows up at the motor home, those bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows furrowed.
“Max, this is ridiculous. They will not reconfigure an entire product line just because Y/N is having a little … craving.”
You brace yourself for the explosion, but Max just levels Helmut with that intense stare. “If you could experience these cravings yourself, you would be singing a different tune. Y/N is sacrificing everything to have our baby. The least Red Bull can do is give her a safe option to have the flavor she misses so much.”
Helmut’s expression softens slightly at the obvious devotion in Max’s voice. “You know that corporate will never go for it. Not for just one person ...”
“Then make it for all the other pregnant women dealing with the same issues,” Max returns, unruffled. “Or is a company that plasters ‘Gives You Wings’ on every can really too cowardly to follow through on empowering people?”
You suck in a shocked breath at his daring play. But the flicker of anger and resigned capitulation in Helmut’s eyes shows that it worked.
“Fine, you little shit,” the older man growls. “I’ll talk to product development. But I’m not making any promises!”
Except somehow … Max’s sheer bullheaded tenacity eventually batters through all the corporate resistance and red tape. Three weeks later, an unmistakable bright blue can appears on the counter, the iconic Red Bull logo stamped across it.
“What’s this?” You ask in confusion.
Max slides an arm around your waist, beaming proudly. “Open it and see.”
You crack the seal, sniffing cautiously … and almost melt at the nostalgic, beloved scent of Red Bull. But just as you start to panic about caffeine, you notice the slightly different flavor.
“Max, is this ...”
He nods, grinning. “Zero caffeine but all the taste you’ve been craving. No more tears over those damn energy drink cans, okay?”
Throwing your arms around him, you yank his head down to capture his mouth in a grateful kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how incredible you are?”
“Once or twice,” he jokes, then sobers, cupping your belly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you and our baby happy.”
“You’re giving me everything I ever wanted and more.” You take a long pull of the perfectly flavored liquid, sighing in blissful satisfaction. “We hit the jackpot with you, Max Verstappen.”
He kisses you again, reveling in your obvious enjoyment. “The only jackpot I need is right here.”
***
Your baby bump has popped out to truly impressive proportions now at eight months along. What started as an innocent craving for Red Bull has escalated into an all-out physiological war.
Nothing seems to satisfy you for long — you’re a walking bundle of hormones and insatiable desires.
From the plush solitude of the Red Bull hospitality suite, you try not to gaze wistfully toward the Ferrari encampment. But you can’t resist fixating on the tantalizing cones of rich gelato constantly streaming from their hospitality tent.
Watching a couple of Ferrari mechanics stroll by, licking at scoops of pistachio and stracciatella, is enough to kickstart a powerful new yearning. Your mouth waters shamelessly as they pass, the creamy dessert leaving you weak in the knees. Before you can overthink it, you’re shuffling toward the entrance, one hand cradling your belly.
“Scusi,” you call out hesitantly as you peek inside. “Mi dispiace … is it possible to get some gelato?”
You half expect to be waved away — it’s well known that the Ferrari team is notoriously insular and protective of their spoils. But the cheerful greeting you receive is instantaneous and overwhelming.
“Madonna mia! Look at this beautiful piccina!”
Suddenly you’re engulfed by a whirlwind of chattering Italian voices, greeted by smiling faces from the team of elderly signoras who comprise the Ferrari hospitality staff. Weathered hands pat your belly and cheeks, clucking sympathetically at your swollen state.
“You poor bambina, absolutely enorme! Of course we’ll get you some gelato to refresh you. And biscotti too! You need to keep up your energy, si?”
You’re ushered toward a plush sofa, various grandmotherly types fussing over you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing. It’s … surprisingly wonderful. They clearly adore babies and pregnant women. You get the sense that indulging a mother-to-be is hardwired into their very beings.
A tray of gelato cups appears, the rainbow of flavors almost dazzling in their variety — chocolate, pistachio, prickly pear, lemon, stracciatella. Before you can reach for one, it’s plucked from your grasp.
“No no no! Leave it to Nonna Maria.” A stout signora with a green paisley dress and frosted silver curls shakes her head sternly. “I’ll start you with the lemon to whet your appetite. Then a nice creamy stracciatella as a proper treat for the bambino.”
The tangy flavor of the lemon gelato hits your craving exquisitely. As soon as you’ve polished off that cup, Nonna Maria presents another brimming with the creamy chocolate chip perfection of stracciatella. You moan in appreciation, unbothered by the chorus of approving noises from your doting new entourage.
Before you know it, you’ve been plied with cups of hazelnut, strawberry, and caramel flavors as well. These hospitable Italian ladies simply won’t be deterred from pampering a future mamma. As you scrape the last smears of gelato from a ramekin, a new grandmother settles on the sofa beside you.
“Now ... tell Nonna Gina what this little maschietto or bambina has been craving, eh?” She pats your belly affectionately. “We have chefs who can whip up anything your heart desires!”
Is it a pregnancy thing, this sudden wave of tears that blurs your vision? Or just being so insanely touched by the kindness and maternal care of these lovely strangers? You blink rapidly, swallowing hard.
“Honestly … gelato has been my biggest craving these past couple days. I don’t know if I can eat another bite.”
A chorus of disapproving gasps and tuts rises from the assembled grandmothers. “Bah! This pregnancy has ruined your appetite, piccina,” one crows, waving a hand dismissively. “We’ll soon get it back to rights, don’t you worry.”
For the next hour, you’re lavished with attention, fussed over and coddled like the most precious jewel. Cold drinks and chilled towels appear to keep you comfortable as the nonnas take turns sitting with you, petting your belly and swapping outrageous birth stories.
Their colorful Italian voices swell and ebb as they bicker over whose recipe for pasta al ragu is most authentic, who has the most grandchildren, and whose first-born grandson is most handsome.
It’s chaos and noise and overwhelming affection … and you’ve never felt so utterly content.
As the afternoon light slants golden through the awning, a familiar figure appears in the entrance, haloed by the fiery rays.
“Liefje? I’ve been looking everywhere ...” Max’s disbelieving gaze sweeps over the scene in front of him — you, surrounded by a veritable coven of grandmotherly Italians who seem entirely absorbed with you. “What in the world ...”
A chubby signora with a bright orange shawl wrapped around her ample form hops up, beaming widely. “Ahh! We have been absolutely spoiling your beautiful wife, of course. Did you know she had a craving for gelato? Well, no problem for us — we have taken her like one of our own bambinas!”
The others cluck and murmur in outraged agreement at his shocked expression.
“We absolutely will not let a piccina in such a state go hungry or uncomfortable! Now you sit down so we can get you a plate of some proper food too!”
Max gapes at you, utterly nonplussed as you grin back at him with unabashed glee, utterly stuffed with Italian desserts and reveling in the indulgent babying. You pat the space beside you invitingly.
“You’ve got to try Nonna Gina’s tiramisu, Maxie. It’ll knock your socks off.”
He settles beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and still looking rather dazed. But the instant the first warm smile and pat lands on his arm or knee, Max’s expression melts. This team of fussing Italian grandmothers has clearly adopted you both as their own.
Nonna Maria reappears, shoving a plate stacked with crispy arancini, indulgent risotto alla Milanese, and a creamy slice of tiramisu into your husband’s hands. “Eat up! You need to keep your strength up too, caring for this sweet cosa bella.” She plants bristly kisses on both your cheeks before scurrying off again.
Max watches her go, then turns to you with a bemused chuckle, squeezing you close. “Well, schatje. I have to hand it to you — at least your pregnancy cravings bring you to some … interesting places.”
You hum in agreement, perfectly content as you snuggle against his side. “Can you really think of a better place for me to nest?” You grin as another nonna appears to pat his cheek, welcoming him into the chaotic fold. “I think I may have just found my second family.”
He tilts your chin up, eyes sparkling with warmth. “Anything that makes you happy and keeps our baby healthy.”
As he kisses you tenderly, surrounded by clucking encouragement and rapturous croons of “bello, bellisimo” from your new Italian grandmothers, you know you’ve never felt so blissfully cherished.
You and Max make your way slowly back to the Red Bull motorhome, stuffed to the gills with gelato and trailed by a gaggle of besotted well-wishers calling out farewells and advice.
“I still can’t believe you managed to befriend the entirety of Ferrari hospitality,” Max laughs, helping ease you onto the couch in his driver’s room. He nudges your belly playfully. “This little one is shaping up to be quite the international charmer!”
“Says the man who single-handedly compelled Red Bull to create an entirely new product line,” you point out, patting your swollen middle contentedly. “I have a feeling this baby is going to be the most spoiled child on earth.”
Max settled beside you, gathering you close with a tender smile. “Can you blame all our people for wanting to give the world to you two?” His thumb traced your jawline reverently. “You’re carrying a little miracle, liefje.”
Your breath catches, as it so often did when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his entire universe. With so much pure adoration and love shining in those grey eyes.
“Our miracle,” you correct softly, cradling his calloused hand over your belly. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Not just supporting me … but giving me everything I could ever dream of.”
He opens his mouth like he wanted to protest, but you press on, needing him to understand how treasured he makes you feel.
“You don’t stop until I’m happy. Even when I get these raging, random cravings that probably seem crazy, you move heaven and earth to give me whatever I need. Most people would never ...”
“Neither of us is most people,” Max interrupts fiercely. He presses a searing kiss to your lips, then the swell of your abdomen. “You and our little one are my entire world. I’ll spend every day showing you how much I love you both, how grateful I am to have you in my life.”
Hormones raging, you pull his mouth back to yours, savoring the taste and feel of him surrounding you. When you finally part, you rest your forehead against his.
“In that case, you better rest up for tonight,” you tease. “I have a feeling that someone’s going to get a craving for sardines and waffles right around midnight.”
***
At nine months pregnant, you feel like a blissfully beached whale.
Your belly protrudes so massively that you can barely see your feet anymore. Simple tasks like tying your shoes or rolling over in bed have become awkward geometric obstacles. Max has to help you up from every chair or couch, his strong arms levering your frame into a vertical position.
Lingering in the paddock is no longer an option either. You’ve been gently but firmly ordered back home to Monaco to prepare for the baby’s arrival.
Thank goodness your nesting instincts are going full tilt — otherwise you might go stir crazy waiting for this little one to make their grand debut. You’ve rearranged and re-organized the nursery a dozen times, washed and rewashed all the tiny onesies and miniature accessories, and baked enough lactation cookies to feed an army of nursing mothers.
Really, there’s only one craving occupying your mind now …
The thump of shoes in the hall makes you look up eagerly. Max appears in the doorway of the sunlit nursery, loose waves of brown hair framing his face. The plain white tee stretches enticingly across his chest and shoulders, making your mouth water for an entirely different reason than food.
“Hey schatje,” he greets, eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes in your flushed cheeks. A knowing smirk tugs at one side of his mouth. “Were you just ... thinking about me?”
You shake your head adamantly, wincing as the motion makes your whole body ache in protest. “Maybe just a little. This particular craving is getting out of control.”
Crossing to you in two strides, Max cups your jaw and brings your lips crashing together in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps demanding and possessive into your mouth, making you whimper faintly. That intoxicating masculine scent of fresh sweat, motor oil, and sandalwood surrounds you in an alluring cloud.
After all these years, just the taste and smell of your husband is enough to drench you in molten wanting. Baby or no baby, Max Verstappen is still the sexiest goddamn thing on two legs.
“Mmm, I know exactly what you need,” he rumbles against your neck, nipping a tingling path along your sensitive skin. “Luckily for you, I’ve got a free schedule all afternoon to help take care of this craving ...”
He scoops you into his arms effortlessly, cradling your heavy weight against his chest to carry you to the bedroom. You twine your arms shamelessly around his neck, luxuriating in the hard strength of his body against yours.
“Aren’t you worried about ... squashing the baby?”
“Not at all,” he deposits you carefully on the bed. Those bright grey eyes darken with blazing lust. “I’m going to take such good care of you and our little one.”
His hands and mouth seem to be everywhere at once — caressing, nibbling, and stroking every sensitive inch he can lavish adoring attention on. You keen softly when he dips his tongue into your navel, rubbing reverent circles over the tight swell of your belly.
“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Max murmurs, lips brushing the crease where your torso and bump meet. “So ripe and round and radiant with our child. My beautiful, strong girl ...”
All you can do is lie there gasping, overwhelmed in the best possible way. He strips you methodically, leaving a trail of scorching, openmouthed kisses over every newly exposed inch.
“My sexy little pregnant wife,” he husks, tongue dragging up the slick crease at the apex of your thighs. “Can’t resist this craving can you, liefje?”
His fingers plunge inside you, curling expertly as his mouth closes over your throbbing bud. You throw your head back shamelessly, mindless with pleasure as Max devours you.
So good, so unbearably good …
He ravishes you thoroughly, sending gushing waves of release crashing through your body over and over again until you’re gasping and quivering. Atoms of blissful satisfaction hum in your bloodstream as you float back into sweet oblivion.
An insistent nudge against your belly slowly rouses you. Max looms over you, hair deliciously rumpled and eyes glittering wickedly. “Did I satisfy that craving sufficiently? Or should I keep going?”
Your mouth curves in a greedy smile, hands gliding over his flexing shoulders and chest. “Again, please ...”
It had long since become a running gag around the paddock and team — before you were advised to stop flying. When you couldn’t be located, someone would joke that you must be off ravaging your utterly besotten husband yet again.
Max took the ribbing with surprising grace, grinning unrepentantly whenever his shirt collar revealed another blossom of lovebites discoloring the skin of his throat.
You really didn’t care about the teasing. You’re indulging an entirely healthy and normal craving — just a wife thoroughly appreciating her man.
“Can you believe people used to call this a punishment?” You giggle breathlessly one afternoon.
Max nips a stinging path along the soft skin of your inner thighs, tracing tantalizingly close to your heated center. He laves his tongue soothingly over the reddened marks, leering up at you from between your parted legs.
“Let them call it whatever they want. I’m just taking advantage of your hormones making you insatiable for me.”
“Mmm, well I can’t seem to resist your obscenely perfect body either,” you admit with a lazy stretch. “Maybe we really are being punished.”
One dark brow wings up eloquently as Max drags his eyes over you in a deliberately insolent perusal. Taking your leg in hand, he licks an achingly slow, filthy stripe up the crease where thigh meets hip.
You choke on a whimper, whole body jolting as he sucks a blossom of wet kisses into the satiny expanse of your inner thigh. Those bright grey eyes hold yours in wicked challenge as his clever tongue massages and swirls over your sensitized flesh.
“This certainly doesn’t seem like punishment to me,” he husks darkly. “Does it feel like punishment when I do this ...” His mouth moves higher. “Or this ...”
By the time he finishes torturing you into a quivering, needy wreck, you’re more than ready to beg.
“Please, Max!” You sob, bucking helplessly against the maddening sensations. “I need you, oh god I need you so bad ...”
He settles heavily over you, nuzzling your hair aside to trail searing kisses along your damp throat. “Then you shall have me. My needy wife can have whatever she craves ...”
It’s midway through one such shattering round of lovemaking that Max’s phone begins to ring shrilly. You try to disentangle, burning embarrassment tinting your cheeks, but he simply growls and clutches you tighter.
“Leave it!” He bites out, surging forward to recapture your mouth in a bruising clash of teeth and tongue between thrusts. “I’m busy ... satisfying … my wife ...”
After, as you lie tangled in a sweaty heap of satiation, you can’t resist asking with a wry smile, “Was that another craving I just demanded you satisfy?”
Max props himself up on one elbow, thumb stroking idly along your abdomen as his piercing gaze roams over your flushed, disheveled form.
“Whatever my wife needs,” he responds huskily. Those burning eyes promise infinite carnal delights to come as they caress your body. “I’ll always crave giving her everything she desires.”
He stretches beside you, a blissful smile curving his lips as you snuggle up against his side to exchange lazy kisses.
You’ve got a sneaking suspicion this is one craving that might outlast the pregnancy ...
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Under the Opulence - Max Verstappen
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⋗ Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader
⋗ Summary - Your family isn't kind to you, and in fact, they all think Max would be a much better fit for your sister. Max likes to differ.
⋗ Word count - 3.4k words, hurt/comfort
⋗ Masterlist - This has been finished for some time, but I've only gotten around to given it a name Feedback and reblogs are appreciated
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The grandeur of your family's foyer, adorned with polished marble and intricate chandeliers, set the stage for Max’s introduction to the world you came from. As you and Max entered, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated through the opulent space, the air charged with excitement and anxiety, but most noticeably on your side, dread. 
Gabriella, your sister, emerged from an adjoining room, her presence demanding attention. With her radiant smile and effortless poise, she seemed to glide into the scene like a queen entering her court. She was the star of the family, the golden child who effortlessly commanded attention and adoration. With her striking looks and sharp intellect, she had always been the one to effortlessly charm anyone who crossed her path. Even your past romantic interests had succumbed to her allure, leaving you with the bitter taste of never good enough.
"It's okay, we're sisters," Gabriella would nonchalantly reassure you. "They weren't good enough for you if they wanted me more."
Her eyes, adorned with an air of confidence, locked onto Max, acknowledging his presence with a subtle yet unmistakable hint of curiosity. Bluntly scrutinising Max, she drank him up with her eyes, then she battered her long eyelashes a few times before slotting into the role of the perfect twin sister.
Max, a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter, met Gabriella's gaze with a polite smile. That was all your sister needed before stepping forward, presenting her hand gracefully, a subtle gesture that belied the underlying power dynamics at play. Max, being the gentleman he was, reciprocated the greeting with a warm shake. However, as the customary exchange lingered for a moment longer than expected, you felt an unspoken tension building. 
“Gabriella, but you – my dear – can call me Gabbie.” Her voice sang in the foyer, bouncing so wonderfully off the walls. You wanted nothing more than to leave. Their hands were still intertwined. 
Instinctively, you began to withdraw your hand from his left, realising that you were caught in an awkward silence. Gabriella's grip on Max's hand tightened imperceptibly, and you hesitated for a split second, torn between asserting yourself and avoiding a confrontation. Finally, you reluctantly released Max's hand, a subtle concession that felt like surrender.
However, your parents made their grand entrance, drawn by the commotion in the foyer.
Gabriella finally let go of Max. She stepped back, allowing a brief respite from the charged exchange. 
Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, approached with a warm smile. "Oh, there you all are! We were starting to wonder when you'd make it to the heart of the festivities."
As she spoke, her eyes lingered on Gabriella and Max, a subtle but knowing gleam in her eyes. It was as if she sensed the unspoken currents beneath the surface. Your father, a more reserved figure, stood beside her, observing the scene with a discerning gaze.
"Mom, Dad, this is Max," you introduced, trying to steer the conversation away from the palpable tension that lingered.
With an air of practised nonchalance, Gabriella returned her attention to Max, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well, Max, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she purred, her words leaving an ambiguous trail of intentions.
She tried to grasp his hand once again, but instead, he started helping you out of your coat to keep his hands busy.
Max, still wanting to leave a good impression, responded with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Gabriella. Your sister here has spoken highly of you too," he said, casting a glance in your direction, before he extended a polite hand toward your parents, exchanging pleasantries as he tried to steer the conversation towards the two newcomers in the foyer. 
Gabriella subtly positioned herself beside him, a silent claim reaffirmed. The atmosphere remained charged, your parents seemingly ignorant of the intricate dynamics playing out before them. The dreadful feeling returned to you as your mom made eye contact with you once more. You averted your eyes.
Gabriella, seizing the opportunity, looped her arm through Max's, as if marking her territory. "Max, let me give you a tour of this magnificent place. There are so many things you haven't seen yet," she exclaimed, her tone holding a mixture of innocence and mischief.
Your heart sank as you watched them disappear into the lavish corridors of your family home.
“Let them go, honey. I’m sure he will be quite interested in our family’s history.” Your mother commented, foregoing the formality of any other type of recognition or greeting to you as she and your dad disappeared after Gabriella and Max.
Leaving you on your own in the opulent foyer, you wished to leave once more.
Determined to regain some semblance of composure, you wandered into the adjacent parlour, a room adorned with plush furniture and rich tapestries. The soft glow of antique lamps cast a warm ambience, but even the comforting setting couldn't dispel the growing unease. You settled into a chair, the plush upholstery offering little solace for the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. The room seemed to close in on you as you anxiously waited for Max and Gabriella to return. The dreadful feeling intensified with every passing moment, and your mind raced with unsettling thoughts.
Finally, the door swung open, and they entered the parlour. Gabriella's laughter echoed through the room. Max wore a polite smile, seemingly having enjoyed the tour, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriella was orchestrating an elaborate performance.
"This place is quite… something," Max said, casting a glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance or acknowledgement. You tried to smile at him. Gabriella, however, continued to dominate the spotlight.
"We have quite the family history," she replied with a sly smile, her eyes flickering between Max and you. "It's a shame you won't be able to hear all the juicy details."
You forced another smile in response, but the unease gnawed at you. As they settled into the room, Gabriella strategically took the seat next to Max, her gestures and expressions aimed at enchanting him right before your eyes.
The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a dance of words that excluded you from its rhythm. You felt like a mere observer in your own home, watching as Gabriella captivated Max with tales of the family's past, her laughter ringing like an enchanting melody.
Your attempts to engage in the conversation were met with fleeting glances as if your presence were an afterthought. Gabriella was ever so quick to recapture Max’s attention, despite your valiant efforts to seek a way into the discussion.
Desperate for a reprieve, you finally excused yourself under the pretence of attending to something in the kitchen. As you escaped the room, the weight of the evening bore down on you, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this family gathering had become a stage for a performance in which you had no choice but to play a reluctant supporting role.
In the kitchen, you busied yourself with trivial tasks, the rhythmic clinking of dishes providing a brief respite from the orchestrated drama in the parlour. The tension that had followed you from the foyer to the parlour lingered like an unwelcome guest, and you desperately sought a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.
As you absentmindedly stacked plates from the dishwasher, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing expression. It was as if she could sense the turbulence beneath the composed facade you were desperately trying to maintain.
"Oh, dear, are you alright?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of concern.
You forced a smile, attempting to deflect the obvious discomfort. "I'm fine, just needed a moment away from the chatter in there."
Your mother's eyes softened, but there was a glint of curiosity. "Well, I must say, Gabriella and Max make quite the pair. They look so good together, don't you think?"
The question hung in the air, a subtle prod at the heart of the matter. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you processed the implications of your mother's words. It was a commentary that cut through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.
"Oh, Mom, they're just chatting. It doesn't mean anything," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.
Your mother, however, seemed undeterred. "I don't know, dear. They do seem to have a certain chemistry, don't you think? They'd make a handsome couple."
The weight of her words settled on you like an anvil, and you struggled to find a suitable response. The kitchen, for a brief moment, had been a sanctuary, but now felt like a confessional where you were forced to confront the complexities of your feelings.
"I...I don't know, Mom. It's just an introduction," you stammered, your attempts to maintain composure faltering.
Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then she sighed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, sometimes we find unexpected connections in the most peculiar places. And if they happen to find something special tonight, well, we should be happy for them, shouldn't we?"
You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness.
“It’s such a shame his looks just aren’t quite there, but he certainly has other features to make up for it. Wouldn’t you say so as well? Yes, a shame, but Gabriella has always been so kind-hearted. I’m sure she doesn’t mind either.” Your mother continued, before finally smiling at you. 
Her message was loud and clear, as she had expressed her approval of Max as a suitable match for Gabriella. 
Your mother wanted you to break up with Max and hand him over.
It was as though Max was a commodity to be exchanged, a possession for your sister to play with until she grew tired and moved on. It made you feel sick to the stomach. 
“Dinner is all ready, your father just put down the roast on the table.”
You followed your mother into the dining room, the scent of the roast filling the air. The grand table, adorned with fine china and polished silverware, became the stage for the next act in this familial drama.
As you took your seat, Max seated next to you, your parents strategically positioned Gabriella opposite Max. The tension in the room was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that every word and gesture would be scrutinised.
"So, Max," your mother began, her eyes flickering between Max and Gabriella, "how did you find our home? Quite exquisite, isn't it?"
Max, thankfully pr-trained, nodded appreciatively. "It's a stunning place with so much history."
Gabriella's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and you braced yourself for what would come next. Your mother, however, wasn't finished.
"And speaking of history," she continued, casting a pointed look at Gabriella, "our family has quite a rich one. Gabriella, why don't you share some of the highlights? Max might find it fascinating."
“It’s alright, I think I heard enough earlier,” Max told your mom, “I would much rather hear childhood stories about her.” He turned his head, making himself able to look into your eyes, and you felt the dread spread. Despite the way he looked at you, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing your parents would not deliver what Max was expecting to be told about.
Max's genuine interest in hearing about your childhood seemed to momentarily disrupt the carefully choreographed performance. Your mother, however, skilfully manoeuvred to maintain the narrative she had meticulously constructed.
"Oh, Max, you're sweet," your mother said, offering a polite smile, "but Gabriella's achievements are the true highlights. She's always been the shining star of our family."
Your sister, seizing the opportunity, began to regale Max with tales of her academic triumphs, artistic pursuits, and social accomplishments. As she spoke, you felt the distance between you and Max widen, a chasm fuelled by your parents' insistence on casting Gabriella as the focal point of the conversation.
Max, sensing the discomfort, tried to redirect the conversation toward a more inclusive narrative. "I'm sure there are some other stories you could tell, perhaps some that aren’t about Gabriell-?"
“Please Max, do call me Gabby.” Gabriella interrupted Max.
Your mother exchanged a knowing glance with your father before responding, "Oh, there are plenty of stories, but I think Gabriella's achievements are what make our family truly special. Don't you agree, Max?"
Max hesitated for a moment, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. However, not wanting to create a scene, he nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, I guess Gabriella is quite accomplished."
Gabriella shot you a coy smile, her triumph was evident in the subtle control she exerted over the narrative. As the conversation continued to revolve around her, Max's attempts to steer it in a different direction seemed to hit an invisible wall.
Your parents, seemingly oblivious to Max's growing discomfort, continued to extol Gabriella's virtues. The room buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the murmur of praise, all while you sat there, a silent observer of your own family dinner.
As dessert was served, Max couldn't hide the subtle tenseness in his shoulders. He glanced at you, a mix of empathy and frustration in his eyes. Despite the challenging circumstances, you appreciated his efforts to bridge the gap.
When Max tried to ask about your childhood again, your mother skilfully redirected the conversation. "Oh, Max, we can talk about that another time. Let's focus on the present moment and enjoy the evening."
Your sister, seizing every opportunity to keep the spotlight, interjected, "You know, Max, I've always been curious about your interests and aspirations. Tell us more about yourself."
The shift in attention to Max was noticeable, but it wasn't the genuine interest he had hoped for. Instead, it felt like another tactic to steer the conversation away from you. Max, his patience waning, briefly shared short anecdotes about his work, nothing he hadn’t already told to the media. However, his eyes kept returning to you, his fingers intertwined with you. As though you were oblivious to the way your sister's feet – under the table – were trying to urge Max to look at her. 
The night wore on, and Max's frustration continued to build, a silent storm brewing within him. The genuine smile he had worn upon arrival had now transformed into a tight-lipped expression, betraying his growing discontent.
Your dad had taken it upon himself to serve a glass of whiskey to him and Max, while your mother brought forth an array of finger foods and other light and savoury snacks. Your family settled around the nice fireplace in the big sitting room, it’s even more extravagant and opulent than the smaller parlour room you had tried to take refuge in earlier in the day. 
When your sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Max, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "You know, Max, we're so thrilled to have you here. It's not often we get such distinguished company." 
Max, no longer willing to play along, shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. "Thank you for having me. It's been... quite an experience," he replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.
Your father, still under the illusion that the evening had gone splendidly, raised his glass. "A toast! To family and new beginnings."
Max's frustration reached its peak as his eyes locked on your dad’s raised glass. Max abruptly stood up, the sound of him slamming his glass down echoing in the sudden silence. The tension in the room was palpable as he looked directly at your parents.
"I appreciate your hospitality, but I can't ignore the blatant disregard for your own daughter," he said, his voice measured but firm. "I came here hoping to learn more about her, but it seems the spotlight is reserved for someone else."
Gabriella's eyes widened in feigned innocence, a practised mask that Max wasn't buying. Your parents exchanged uneasy glances, finally sensing the budding cracks in their carefully constructed facade.
"I won't be a part of a charade that dismisses her existence," Max continued, his frustration now laid bare. "If you can't appreciate the amazing person she is, then I want no part in this. Goodnight."
Without waiting for a response, Max pulled you from the couch. As you both retreated from the sitting room, leaving behind the echoes of tension and shattered illusions, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow.
Max led you through the ornate hallways of your family home, the grandeur of the surroundings now feeling suffocating. The air outside was cool and crisp as you stepped onto the front porch, the distant sounds of the night providing a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.
He turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to be like this."
You managed a small smile, appreciating his genuine intentions. "It's not your fault. Thank you for trying."
Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your family... it's not what I expected."
You nodded, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "It's never been easy."
"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you deserve better than this," Max said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, no matter what."
As Max navigated the darkened streets, a palpable tension and heavy silence filled the car ride home between you and him. The glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his determined expression, the lines of worry etched into his brow.
You sat beside him, lost in your thoughts, the events of the evening replaying in your mind like a broken record. The weight of the strained interactions with your family weighed heavily on your shoulders, a burden you couldn't shake.
Max glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped the car.
You sighed, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I don't know, Max. Tonight was… a lot. I’m sorry for Gabriella."
“They shouldn’t have said any of that.” Max ignored your comment, “that’s not- even I know that’s now how you treat family.”
“I’m sorry for Gabriella.” You tried to tell him once again, instead finding his hand reaching out to tangle it into yours. 
As Max's hand intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through your fingertips, grounding you in the present moment. His touch was a lifeline, offering solace amidst the turmoil that had consumed your family gathering. You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating the silent support he offered.
Max pulled the car over, letting him turn to you and gaze into your eyes.
"I know you're sorry, love," Max whispered, his voice laced with understanding. "But you can't take responsibility for someone else's idiotic words. Gabriella's actions were uncalled for, and it's not your parents should have stopped it, not… Encouraged it."
His words resonated deep within you, reminding you that you were not solely accountable for the strained relationship with your parents. The weight on your shoulders began to lighten as if Max's presence alone could alleviate the burden.
You turned to him, finally meeting his concerned gaze. "Thank you, Max. Your support means the world to me."
He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, alright?"
A surge of gratitude washed over you, grateful for the unwavering love and understanding Max consistently provided. You squeezed his hand once more, as he pulled out of the ditch. 
The car continued to glide through the darkened streets, but the heavy silence had transformed into a comforting embrace of shared vulnerability.
As the glow of streetlights continued to cast fleeting shadows, you realised that it was in the darkest moments that the strength of your relationship with Max shone the brightest. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you knew that together, you could weather any storm or awful family dinner.
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⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, sorry that it took so long to post this one
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buckysdoll-op81 · 20 days
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Not mine-found on Pinterest
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twirlyleafs · 13 days
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“Gold-digger.”
Max Verstappen x reader
TW: Angst, arguing I guess
A/N: I’m in such a drought I need requests </3
~~~~
It had been a good weekend. A great one even. The weather had been nice, no rain but not too warm, and not one single DNF which had just about everyone feeling happy. Just a few hours ago you cheered for your boyfriend as he took the steps up to the top of the podium, giggling slightly as he sent you a wink from his high position. You never got tired of seeing Max win, you loved it. Loved how hardworking he was and loved that it gave result. Loved to see him happy. You also most definitely didn’t mind the adrenaline he still had coursing through his body when the two of you got back to the hotel, having him press you up against the shower wall with quick and hard thrusts. Looking at the two of you right now, smartly dressed and sitting on opposite sides of the big table surrounded by your friends, no one could imagine the whimpering mess you’d been just a while ago. You smiled as you watched Max across the table, one hand holding his beer as the other was cupped around Daniel’s ear. By the giant grin on Danny’s face you knew Max was whispering gossip to him and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. All around the table people seemed happy, relaxed, and since it was three weeks until the next GP you all found it necessary to both celebrate a good race weekend and the well-deserved upcoming break.
“You think she’d be with me if I wasn’t rich?” You snapped out of your own thoughts, eyes trailing back to your boyfriend. He seemed to be in the middle of some sort of jokey rant, the glimmer in his eye tipping you off to the fact that he was slightly tipsy. Max nodded to you with a grin as the table laughed. “No way man.” You rolled your eyes but chuckled along. Tipsy Max always pulled stupid jokes but because he was so disgustingly adorable everyone was fine with it.
“Shut up Max.” You pointed your fork at him and he grinned, winking back. For a moment the table seemed to move on to other topics but somehow it ended with Max once again saying something about your relationship. He claimed that he didn’t only have his career to thank Redbull for, they had helped him land you too. This time you couldn’t shrug off the feeling that his words were deeper than just a silly comment and you felt the need for him to finally say he was joking. When he dropped a third comment you pushed your brows together, having had enough, and called him out.
“Max.” Your voice had him shifting his gaze to you, the smile still evident on his face. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the sudden frown on your face. “Are you serious?”
“What?”
“You don’t think we’d be together if you weren’t with Redbull?” You were in disbelief, not really comprehending what he was actually talking about. Joking about. Max only shrugged, sporting a carefree smile.
“Maybe if I drove for Ferrari too.” He joked, still keeping the conversation light.
“Not McLaren? That wouldn’t be good enough?” Lando spoke up from the other end of the table and when Max answered with an exaggerated frown and shake of his head everyone once again started laughing. You didn’t. You watched your boyfriend, the big smile on his face as he joked about your relationship making you feel sick. Was he even joking? Or did he actually sincerely believe that the two of you wouldn’t be a couple, that you wouldn’t date him, if he wasn’t rich? It took Max a few moments before his gaze landed on you again, the grin simmering down when he saw the look on your face.
“Are you serious?” You asked again, even though you were starting to realize you wouldn’t like the answer. Max just chuckled and you felt your heart crack at the prospect of him actually thinking you were with him for the money. With a hard swallow you leaned back in your chair, focusing your gaze down into your wineglass as the table moved on.
The rest of the night you did your best to keep up, forcing smiles and laughs even though you wanted nothing else than to sink through the floor. Max didn’t seem to notice. You took note of who payed for dinner, Charles, and made sure you transferred him your share the second you and Max got back to the hotelroom. You had never done that before, no one had, because one of the guys usually offered to take the tab and Max had told you they basically took turns paying. It had never crossed your mind before, but after tonight’s conversations it felt important to pay for yourself.
“Liefje?” Max called from the bedroom as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, removing your makeup. He popped his head through the door a second later, a slight frown on his face. “Chuck is asking why you’re sending him money?”
“Because he paid for dinner.” You answered simply, swiping a cotton pad across your cheeks. Max huffed.
“So?”
“So I’m paying for what I ate. And drank.” You paused to look at him through the mirror. When he still sported a questioning pout you sighed. “Don’t want him to think we’re just friends because he’s rich.” It took Max a moment to process your words, connecting them to earlier that night. When he did he couldn’t help but chuckle softly.
“You’re mad about that whole thing?” He asked and it honestly chocked you that he could be so surprised about it. When you broke the eye contact, moving back to start moisturizing your face, he let out another breathy laugh. “Seriously y/n?”
“You’re an asshole Max.” You muttered. Max shuffled closer to you. Even though you were annoyed, mad even, you didn’t stop his hands from smoothing over your hips. You watched his smile through the mirror but didn’t reciprocate it.
“Don’t be mad about that.” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. In moments like this you hated that he knew exactly how to make you break. You felt your anger slowly subside when he kneaded his fingers into the skin above your hips, lips still pressing warm kisses against your bare skin. You had almost forgotten how upset you were until he spoke up again. Max had placed his lips just against your ear, something that would usually make you shiver in a good way. Now it had your skin burning hot in anger instead. “I don’t mind paying for you, I like that you like it.”
In a millisecond you had pushed him away, quickly turning to look at him instead. “Are you fucking serious?”
“What?
“I don’t like that you spend your money on me. That’s not why I’m with you, I- how can you even say that? I would love you even if you worked at a fucking gas station.” You were frustrated now, even more so when you saw Max roll his eyes. He obviously still thought you were being dramatic, that this whole thing was kind of amusing.
“Oh let’s be real, we wouldn’t be together if I wasn’t driving in f1 and you weren’t a model. Drivers date models and we do that because we have money, it’s not more complicated than that.” He said it so casually, leaning his hip against the sink. You stared at him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. It had been bad enough to know that he thought you used him, but now he’s admitting to only dating you for your looks and your work and suddenly everything felt ten times worse.
“You’re only with me because I’m a model, is that what you’re saying?” You asked slowly, impressed with yourself for keeping your voice steady and the tears at bay. Max shook his head.
“That’s obviously not what I mean, but-“
“Because in that case you can find someone else to spend your precious money on. I’m sure you can pay some hotter girl to be your girlfriend if that’s what you think a relationship is supposed to be like.” Your words were sharp and you saw his face drop just before you turned around, walking out of the bathroom. You immediately went to your suitcase, throwing it up on the bed. Max was quick to follow, stopping you from opening it with a strong hand on top.
“That’s not what I meant.” He repeated, finally seeming to understand the seriousness in his earlier words.
“But it’s what you said. It’s what you’ve been saying the whole night actually. You believe that we’re in some sort of business with each other where I get to use your money and you get to, what? Be like your friends? Date a model? That’s making you feel cool?” You shoved his hand away from your bag, dragging the zipper all around it to open. “I believe -believed- that we loved each other and wanted to be together because we enjoy it. I guess there was some miscommunication.”
“No, no you’re twisting my words.” Max argued, dragging his fingers through his hair in a stressed demeanor while he watched you start to pack your stuff into the bag. “I’m not saying-“
“I think you’ve said enough tonight, actually.” Shoving your suitcase shut again you paused to look up at your boyfriend. Or whatever he was now. He stared at you with wide eyes, not knowing what to do. The situation had escalated too quickly for him to follow and now all of a sudden he was panicking. “I’m gonna knock on Danny’s door, see if I can sleep there. I would advise you to figure out how you see us because if I’m simply someone you think you’re buying to be with you I’m out.”
“Schatje-“ he began, reaching a hand out to touch you. You moved away, pulling your bag down on the floor.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
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taasgirl · 8 days
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espresso - lando norris
summary: y/n is a famous singer who also happens to be a massive f1 fan. when she mentions a liking for a certain driver, it's only fate that he tries everything in his power to get her attention.
a/n: no face claim! the outcomes/order of races are altered to fit the story, it's just a fun time!!
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liked by oliviarodrigo, oneruel, pedri, and 1, 376, 227 others ynusername my new interview with wired is out now!
user64973 Stop you're gorgeous
user89322 do i wanna be her or be with her??
user09384 so who r u crushing on huh
ynusername it's a seeeecret 🤫
user44172 This entire vid is so chaotic omfg
user03638 Please let y/n enter her wag era
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liked by user55736, user89842, user73903, and 10, 652 others user33973 HELLO???? LANDO LITERALLY LIKED THIS TWEET I'M CRYING
user98301 brother personally knows who y/n's next bf should be
user40440 HAHA NO LITERALLY
user34593 God please let this be lando shooting his shot after watching y/n's recent interview
user43982 NO WAIT UR SO FR BECAUSE SHE LITERALLY MENTIONED LIKING AN F1 DRIVER WHAT IF IT'S HIM??
user12871 lando and y/n 🙏🙏
view ynusername's story...
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liked by oscarpiastri, lorde, gavi, and 782, 774 others ynusername what a race! lovely to see you again @ oscarpiastri, maybe aim for a podium next time though?
oscarpiastri I'd like to see you try in a f1 car
user49949 Wait is oscar the guy y/n was talking abt in that vid? user53004 i hope not, i love him and lily
user20833 Okay so did y/n and lando interract or not? 😭
user61221 hot girls support mclaren (confirmed!) liked by ynusername
user89483 y/n slowly integrating herself in the f1 scene, we see u girl
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant, ynusername, and 2, 459, 383 others landonorris A lot to learn from this weekend, but we keep pushing. Also great to meet a lot of new faces and the incredible fans🧡
user58273 SORRY WHAT THAT SECOND PHOTO...
user89894 is the new face y/n perhaps??
mclaren Great weekend Lando! liked by landonorris
user92702 I genuinely tweak whenever u post bc u look so fine
user53982 not y/n liking this post 😭
user66359 AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN FOLLOW HIM user98123 miss girl is stalking her crush i bet
user17263 please let this year be your year
user52209 Did anyone see his response to that post race interview?
user28732 YES AND HOW HE HAS HIS EYE ON SUM1
user87229 oh he trynna thirst trap (y/n) liked by landonorris
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liked by lilyzneimer, oliviarodrigo, pedri, and 334, 938 others ynusername remember that one bitch ass ex I had? yeah well I wrote another song about him! 'feather' is yours now, but best enjoyed when you have an ugly, cheating, lying dick of an ex to think about. have fun with this one!! 😘
lilyzneimer STOP I'M ACTUALLY DYING I WAS NOT EXPECTING OSCAR OMG I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING liked by ynusername
user82983 i was like wow normal post! and then boom. oscar.
oscarpiastri Okay that seems a little mean
lilyzneimer already on repeat
oscarpiastri Um excuse me???? Did you read the caption...
user68297 NEW Y/N MUSIC YESYESYES
user26321 omfg i've been waiting for an angry y/n song
user72639 this sounds really familiar?? song of the summer maybe?
ynusername ahhhh thank you bb
view landonorris's story...
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liked by user58273, user98004, user63874, and 10, 376 others user44938 Y/N papped in Monte Carlo today! Rumours are circulating that she was visiting F1's starboy Lando Norris, however there is no official confirmation.
user99812 ohhh y/n we see you
user89283 Okay everyone shut up abt lando, let's take a moment to appreciate y/n's beauty omf she's gorg
user23294 I SECOND THIS !!
user12834 hmm i wonder why she's in monaco...
user48463 Y/N u ain't slick 😭
user35273 she saw lando's story and ran straight to him
user16282 "how far u go for a sneaky link? I'd fly"
user52883 I know damn well she ain't in monaco for a holiday
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liked by landonorris, gracieabrams, laufey, and 483, 995 others ynusername it's exactly like selena gomez's 2011 film
user73948 I KNOW LANDO'S HOODIE WHEN I SEE IT
user63762 ur the genuine it girl
lilyzneimer Monte Carlo reference, I love it liked by ynusername
user11928 landoooo
landonorris oooooo
user40948 oh hey lando user29830 Fancy seeing you here user73984 He wants her so bad
oscarpiastri I think I've seen that hoodie before
ynusername hmm i wonder where 🤷‍♀️
user49283 girl saw his story and flew out IMMEDIATELY
user53984 y/n l/n wag era loading 😏😏
user92874 So pretty
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liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, mclaren, and 3, 469, 848 others landonorris Calm before the storm #raceweek
charlesleclerc Good to see you with some company
user76483 CHARLES HASFGUEH
ynusername omg invite me next time
user42761 Girl bfr we know where u were at
user52739 THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE
user19820 y/n and lando are a match made in heaven
user82637 I wonder who you were hanging out with 🤔
oscarpiastri Wow I feel like I've seen that girl before
ynusername me too
user61542 not lando soft launching y/n as if we don't know it's her
user82736 I mean technically we don't
user19823 @ user82736 No I think it is confirmed, she was heard on his twitch stream the other day
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liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer, danielricciardo, and 1, 254, 982 others mclaren Our drivers and their partners after qualifying! Lando and Oscar will begin P4 and P5 respectively in Monte Carlo 🧡🤍
user82638 AND THEIR PARTNERS??? Y/N AND LANDO?
user52761 admin really said if they won't confirm it, I will liked by mclaren
user52839 Please lando and y/n are adorable
user82636 lily & oscar >>>
user48273 Sooooo they official...?
user27163 guys stop with this y/n x lando madness, i need a double mclaren podium
user82638 y/n really manifested her wag era huh
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liked by ynusername, logansargeant, lilymunhe, and 3, 716, 372 others landonorris Monaco '24. Thank you to everyone who came out, and showed me support this weekend. I promise to be better next race. tagged: oscarpiastri & ynusername
ynusername my racer 🧡🏎️
user62538 HELLO? user82776 i'm gonna be sick
mclaren Papaya boys! liked by landonorris
user72538 Y/N is so beautiful I can't even
user16529 HIS EYES
user52863 him hard launching y/n >>>>
user98276 This is MY victoria and david
ynusername omg we're definitely not as cool as them
user41752 i won't get over this ever
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liked by landonorris, phoebebridgers, mclaren, and 967, 837 others ynusername i think i need to buy more orange clothes
landonorris I've already offered up half my closet to her...
landonorris nice shirt though 😏
user62538 oh i'm living for their hard launch
lilyzneimer Welcome to the team!!
user22817 STOP THIS IS ADORABLE PLS WE NEED Y/N AND LILY CONTENT IMMEDIATELY
mclaren Our favourite pop star liked by ynusername 🌟
user52763 Y/N THE WAG YESSSSSS
oscarpiastri It's actually papaya
ynusername okay sassy man apocalypse lilyzneimer @ ynusername feed him to the zombies
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liked by oliviarodrigo, landonorris, lilyzneimer, and 583, 872 others ynusername oh and btw, my new song espresso is out and it's a @ landonorris certified 'banger'. his words not mine. listen on all platforms now!!
landonorris She's working late cause she's a singerrr
ynusername haiii
user72637 y/n really walked in and said that she's the best lando ever had and ever will have
landonorris I mean it's true sooo
user62537 Okay lando I didn't know u had game like dat
lilyzneimer oh I love you
ynusername LILYYYYYYY i love u so much oscarpiastri I think our gfs are gfs... @ landonorris
view landonorris's story...
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please let me know if you guys liked this! i love doing lando fics so much. as always, my reqs are open so feel free to drop suggestions!!
here’s a cute oscar smau i just wrote
2K notes · View notes
55szn · 18 days
Text
good luck - mv1
max verstappen x fem!reader smau
summary when max and y/n adopt a black cat and everyone thinks it’s bringing him bad luck, they are determined to prove them wrong
warnings none i think
fc various girls from pinterest
notes requested!💘 loved this so muchhajska (excuse my poor editing skills on this one lol)
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INSTAGRAM
yourusername just uploaded to their story!
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[new child just dropped, everyone say hi to mocha🐾][same mocha, same @ maxverstappen1]
TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
maxverstappen1
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 819.718 others
maxverstappen1 not having the season we expected, lots of work ahead.😑
view all 6.189 comments
yourusername ❤️ liked by maxverstappen1
user male acting performance where he’s having the worst day of his life but looks so hot doing it:
user girlsnjasfkja😭
user i’m being so serious rn you HAVE to give that cat to someone else
user first dnf i laughed… second dnf i serioused
user dw i played the dutch anthem at home for you king🧡🧡
user IT’S OKAY POOKIE YOU ARE GONNA WIN ALL OTHER RACES😖😖😖
user not if he doesn’t get rid of that cat lol
maxverstappen1 just uploaded to their story!
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[😍🐈‍⬛ @ yourusername] [when the cat steals your gf😑]
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 102.189 more
yourusername certified dilf‼️
tagged maxverstappen1
view all 3.578 comments
maxverstappen1 the last pic??
yourusername gave me dad vibes idk
user so true
user what are the odds of max getting a black cat and immediately starting to get bad results
user ikr
user just a coincidence 🤷‍♀️
user one time thing is a coincidence, two dnfs in a row and then not being able to get a single win in many races… sounds like “black cat curse” to me sorry
user get rid of the cat if you want him to win the championship i’m BEGGING🙏🏻🙏🏻😫😫
user you guys are so ridiculous
user mocha with the max plush omgggggg i might die🥹🥹🥹🥹
user idc what anyone says he is gonna win the championship again and mocha will be forgiven you read it here first
user cat crazy lady + cat crazy dude = perfect match💘
FEW MONTHS LATER
TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
yourusername just uploaded to their story!
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[4x world champion🥹🧡 i love you so much @ maxverstappen1] [beyond proud🦁🫶🏻]
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 201.179 others
yourusername black cat bring good luck 😺 not bad luck 😾 so so proud of you maxie🧡
tagged maxverstappen1
view all 5.872 comments
maxverstappen1 my girls🫶🏻🥰
maxverstappen1 love you❤️
yourusername love you more dilf💘
user just unserious as fuck😭😭
user max calling the cat and yn “his girls” like mocha is his daughter or smth😭
user she is his daughter wdym
redbullracing what an adorable lucky charm😺🍀
yourusername you know it🫡
user queen 🙏🏻
user I KNOW WHO MY GOAT IS🐐🐐 (mocha)
user mocha redemption arc ohhh i’ve been waiting for this one
user FR I ALWAYS BELIEVED IN YOU MOCHA😫
user THEY GOT MOCHA A PADDOCK PASS IM CRYINGGG
user always blessing us with the best max pictures thank u mother🥹
user please god i also want to raise a black kitty with my incredibly hot bf😔😔
user oh to be mocha…
user you don’t understand this lil family is EVERYTHING to me☹️☹️
1K notes · View notes
httpiastri · 4 months
Text
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"lando."
there's no reaction the first time, so the next time, your voice is just a tad louder and you give his shoulder a slight shake.
"lando."
he turns around in bed but only lets out a humming sound in response, his head nuzzling into his pillow. his breath is slow and steady, and you can't really tell if he's actually awake yet. your next words definitely wake him up, though.
"she just kicked."
his eyes fly open instantly, looking at you almost in disbelief. "what?"
"i could feel it, it was so hard," you tell him with a nod. "she really did kick, i promise."
lando almost can't believe his ears. you'd both been waiting for this moment for so many weeks now – a baby's kicks are something every expecting parent eagerly anticipates, after all – and here you are, telling him it finally happened. your little one has been very inactive so far, with basically no movement or activity of any kind. but the doctors and midwives all told you it was normal, nothing out of the ordinary, so you haven't worried.
your little daughter may have been late to the party, but it doesn't matter to either of you – because here you are with a suddenly very much active and living baby in your stomach. suddenly, you have a confirmation that all of this is actually real.
lando lies frozen, so you reach over to grab one of his hands and place it on the side of your stomach, right where you felt the first kick. you're both silent in anticipation, as if your speaking would hinder him from feeling it properly. your eyes shut as you wish over and over that she'll kick again, just to prove that you didn't just imagine things, and just to prove that she's there and alive and well and-
lando's heart almost jumps out of his chest when he feels it. a kick. and quite the strong one, even. he feels his entire body softening as a giant smile reaches his lips. he leans forward slightly, head tilting down towards your bump. "hey there, baby," he starts. "daddy here." his palm strokes up and down your skin. "you're growing and moving already, huh? are you getting ready to come out here and meet us soon?"
as if she's been listening to his words, she answers his questions by kicking yet again. and again. and again. lando's eyes flicker between your face and the bump, mouth gaping wide. you both break out into giggles like a pair of teenagers, smiles so big your cheeks start to hurt. "i'd take that as a yes," you say, intertwining your fingers with his on your belly.
lando leans down to press a sweet kiss to the bump, imagining your little daughter feeling his adoration through your skin. if he could shower her with affection and love already, he would. but he'll just have to wait until she arrives, though every day that passes without him getting to hold her in his arms is unbearable.
"i don't think i'll be able to go back to sleep," you tell him after a few moments of silence. "i'm too eager to feel her kick more."
he nods agreeingly, the excitement inside of him too big to contain, too. now he leans in to kiss your cheek instead, giving your fingers a slight squeeze. "twenty more weeks," he whispers.
"twenty more weeks."
2K notes · View notes
landorris · 2 months
Text
blue jeans | max verstappen x fem! reader
summary; where lando norris and fernando alonso ask a random girl to play padel with them in max’s team
fc; ruby lyn
warnings; english is not my first language
taglist; @thef1diary @bigsimperika @shobaes @d3kstar @stinkyjax @the-untamed-soul @bibissparkles @judespoision
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
yourusername
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liked by yourfriend, user1 and others
yourusername: went for a run ended up playing padel with strangers (lost the game bc my teammate was horrible at it)
yourfriend: pls tell me more about it
yourusername: on my way 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️
user1: waiting for the vlog
yourusername: haven’t filmed one today 😕 but i promise next week you’ll have it🫡
user2: such a book thing
your phone and max’s phone
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landonorris
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and others
landonorris: max lost (again) we found y/n (again) and now we’re friends
yourusername: hey fwend👋🏽👋🏽
landonorris: hello muppet👋🏽
maxverstappen1: i let you won
yourusername: no you didn’t
user1: OMG Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE
user2: WAIT THAT CAPTION WAS ABOUT MAX?😭
user3: im lost, who’s y/n?
user4: she’s an youtuber/influencer, she posts vlogs and talks about health
user5: lando knows what we want to see
danielricciardo: poor little max verstappen embarrassed himself in front of ykw
user6: IT’S 100% Y/N
your phone
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourfriend and others
yourusername: these cars are really fast, isn’t it dangerous?
yourfriend: girl take me with you next time
yourusername: that’s not up to me
user1: i really love this y/n f1 crossover
user2: she went to the saudi arabia gp?!😫
maxverstappen: think i proved my point
yourusername: you did well ig🙄
user3: she’s so pretty
user4: one more post of them together and im gonna start screaming mom and dad
user5: @maxverstappen did you knew she has a cat?
your phone
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant and others
yourusername: milo has a new friend (still figuring out what to wear on this f1 thing
user1: don’t worry, youre serving
user2: vlog when
yourusername: i kinda made one in saudi but i don’t know if im going to post it
user2: do it rn!!!!
user3: mother
user4: that’s max’s hand, they’re so cat parents
logansargeant: you look cute
yourusername: thanks logan :)
user5: logan babe what are you doing here
user6: guys they want our gf
maxverstappen1: i miss the cat
yourusername: i see how it is
user7: parents😖😖😖
your phone and max’s phone
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1K notes · View notes
pupkashi · 2 months
Text
satoru loves yapping [to you]
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satoru was always chatty, shoko could definitely attest to that statement, subjected to too many conversations she definitely did not care about.
“isn’t it hotter than usual? i swear last year it was colder around this time of year-” he began, continuing to talk as shoko tried to focus instead on healing an injured itadori in front of her.
it seemed that his chatty characteristic only amplified when you were around, his eyes would visibly brighten, practically gleaming when you appeared in his eyesight.
“sweetheart! how are you? staying cold in this heat?” you can help but smile at him, walking straight into his already outstretched arms and squeezing his waist a bit, pressing a soft peck to his cheek before pulling away.
“heat? it feels so good out today!” you sigh happily, waving yellow to shoko and itadori, “it is hotter than last year though I’ll tell you that,” satoru grins at your words, turning to shoko with a flint in his eyes before turning back to you.
“that’s what I said! global warming is getting too severe-” the two of you walking out hand in hand, the taller man still talking as you listened intently.
satoru never felt the need to be quiet around you, always finding things to talk about no matter the task or the hour.
“and so you would think that since they were doing so bad they would think of making changes right?” you nod along, humming so he knows you’re listening, “but no! they keep going with same stupid strategy and it’s so frustrating as a fan to see, i just want him to achieve his dreams,” he sighs sadly.
“can you pass the salt?” you ask, taking it from his much larger hand, thanking him before speaking up again, “why does he keep resigning if they always treat him so poorly?” you ask, satoru smiles, heart warming at the fact that you really do pay attention to him.
“he’s always wanted to win with Ferrari- let me take you back to the beginning” he begins, giving you a summary of charles leclerc’s life as you finish cooking dinner.
you could always tell when he got a bit insecure of how talkative he was, but you’d always smile at him, urging him to go on. “and then what? why’d you stop talking?” you’d say, making him smile widely before quietly starting again.
“I’m listening, angel boy,” you mumble in between dreams, listening to him talk about how orange juice isn’t the same as it was when he was growing up and how the new game he downloaded was more complicated than it seems.
it could be nearing 2 in the morning but you wouldn’t mind, satoru would be discussing how and why wombats have cube shaped poops and how koalas eat eucalyptus and pandas have half a brain cell they don’t bother to use.
“it has no real nutritional value and that’s why they have to eat so much of it,” he mumbles, eyes drooping as he cuddles closer to you.
“aren’t they made to digest meat?” you whisper, head tucked into the crook of his neck, your breath running a chill down his spine.
“think so, dunno” he mumbles back, breathing evening out before he’s fully asleep.
your eyes open slowly as you crane your neck, his pink lips slightly parted as he takes soft breaths, snowy hair pointing every which way.
you can’t help but smile at your lover.
“goodnight pretty boy” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “my little yapper,” you chuckle to yourself, already looking forward to what he’d talk about tomorrow.
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masterlist
a/n: hi friends ! just a quick little something i put together bc i miss satoru so bad lately </3 he’s def a yapper and i want to hear him talk all day and night
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi
2K notes · View notes
heliads · 2 years
Note
Hi friend! I love your writing and I was wondering if you were taking requests could you write a racetrack x reader oneshot where they’re not that close but they have both been secretly crushing on each other, and they finally admit it to each other after they have to do a project together? You can take it from there!
this is me, taking it from there
masterlist
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There is no better gossip in Manhattan than the stuff Katherine Pulitzer brings to the table. Talking to her, you understand why no one in this godless city is able to turn her down for an interview, why no piece of information is ever far from her reach. She has ways of sinking her claws in you, pulling and tugging until you end up telling her your entire life story.
All this, and she’s still the best friend you could ever ask for. Katherine’s been busy as of late, the thrills of having a full time job that she loves, but you still make time for her whenever you can. Right now, the two of you are cloistered in a corner of the Manhattan newsies’ Lodging House, watching the sun sink beneath the horizon through a few cracked windows and keeping each other up to date on everything that’s happened since your last get together.
Katherine has her legs propped up on a table nearby, arms crossed as she surveys the scene. You swear she grows less and less ladylike every time she visits, although that’s surely due to no small share of influence on your part. You’re a wreck already, and you’re determined to drag her down with you. She loves it, you know that.
Jack Kelly has already joked a thousand times that the two of you could take over the whole of New York City if given three days and some cool weather, and you have no doubt that it’s true. That’s the best part of a good friend, you think, there’s nobody here who knows all the ways your brain clicks and whirs except Katherine.
Well, she doesn’t know one point of interest. See, Katherine is convinced that you’ve got a crush on somebody here, that surely you’ve set your heart on at least one of the newsboys. She’s trying to figure out who that potential suitor could be. Unfortunately, given her successful track record when it comes to figuring out stories, you’re fairly sure that she’s going to solve this problem soon enough.
You try to distract her anyway, on the off chance that it might work. “I don’t know why you’re so set on this whole idea. Why would I like anybody here?”
Katherine scoffs, eyes roving the packed Lodging House. “You, Y/N, live in a house full of cute boys who all but worship the ground on which you walk. There’s no way you don’t have a crush on at least one of them.”
You arch a brow. “That seems fake.”
Katherine gestures vaguely at herself. “It worked for me, didn’t it? Once upon a time, I was just like you. Stubborn, hardworking–”
You cut her off with a grin. “Utterly devoted to herself and not other newsboys?”
Katherine holds up a finger in agreement. “See, I thought that at first too, but look at me now. I found Jack and I’ve never looked back.”
You chuckle. “Just because you accidentally fell in love with the most infuriating boy you’d ever met doesn’t mean I’m going to do the same thing. What caused that, anyway? You two bantered one too many times and suddenly you thought he was your sun and stars? That sort of thing is totally absurd. Why would enemies ever fall in love?”
Katherine casts you a knowing look. “You’d be surprised, trust me. Besides, you’re missing one important fact: he was cute. Also, he has a heart bigger than this entire city. I didn’t realize that at first. Now, who’s your crush? I know there has to be one.”
You sigh. “Good luck on that front. I don’t like a single one of these boys like that.”
Katherine’s eyes spark. “Not even Race?”
You freeze, and although you force yourself to breathe normally as soon as you can, even your half second delay doesn’t go unnoticed. Damn Katherine and her eagle eyes.
“What? Race, what about him?” You say, doing your best to remain as innocent as possible.
It’s too late, though. Katherine knows. “Goodness, it is him, isn’t it? I knew it.”
Your eyes widen. “No you didn’t. You’re just lucky that you tossed out that name first.”
Katherine laughs. “I’ve known for weeks. You stare at him so much you’d think the boy was a priceless headline. It’s kind of cute.”
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks. “I’m glad you’re having a good time with this. Look, I don’t feel the same way about Race as you did about Jack. I’ve talked to Race maybe once since I started being a newsie. I just think he’s good looking, that’s all. The feeling will fade in another week.”
Katherine steeples her fingers together. “I’m willing to bet otherwise. All you need to do is get close to him. Just talk to the guy, okay? I swear it’ll be different then. You’ll be irrevocably in love.”
She clasps her hands to her chest in mock theatrics, and you shove her in the shoulder, making the other girl laugh. “Alright, alright, Juliet, you can cool it. Nothing’s going to happen.”
Katherine’s grin, though, is a little too knowing. It sets your suspicions racing. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” she says, and you can’t help but wonder what your friend’s got in mind.
It would be great if Katherine weren’t half so cunning, or half so connected to the leader of the Manhattan newsies. When a week comes and goes and suddenly Jack starts talking about how he wants everyone to settle into partners for selling papes, you smell a bad deal. Katherine’s got her hands in this, you can tell.
Your fears are confirmed when Jack calls for you and Race to work together. Supposedly, the ships coming in and out of a nearby harbor have changed, leading to a sudden influx of potential customers around the city blocks. Jack wants the two of you to work together to make sure you can handle all of the new arrivals. 
Although the explanation makes sense, it’s a strange partnership. This seems like an important opportunity, right? Jack is only having two people work together because he wants to make sure not a single visitor goes throughout their day without having been sold a paper or ten. Why, then, would he have you and Race be partners, especially when the two of you have never worked together before? You’re untested in the face of a grand opportunity. It makes no sense.
Or, it would make no sense, were it not for the fact that Katherine surely set you up. You don’t get a chance to see your friend for another couple of days due to some major deadlines on her end, so you won’t be able to confront her about this for a while. The only option you have, then, is to weather this storm and stay so close to your crush until this whole thing blows over.
Race is only half as surprised about this as you are. He whistles as the two of you walk over to the streets near the harbor, occasionally breaking up his melody to point out interesting things the two of you pass. He keeps glancing at you as if he expects you to take off running and abandon him for another friend, but when you don’t, his nerves seem to settle.
You were expecting this whole affair to be stilted and awkward, featuring you tripping over your own words as you try to act normally. You’re not used to being this close to Race; usually, he’s just out of reach, across the room or down a street. He’s a painting to you, a portrait of brilliance that has never been yours, not even to name or touch.
All of a sudden, he’s now feet away, within arm’s reach and looking at you for casual conversation. You didn’t realize his eyes would be this blue up close, nor that his smiles would come so easily for something you said. It’s almost unsettling to be so near him. Usually, you can hide your longing looks through distance, but here, you’re on display. 
Race can tell whenever you’re staring at him because he has nowhere else to look but at you. He certainly takes advantage of it, too– every time you’re unable to keep your eyes from straying to him a second longer, more often than not he’s already turned towards you. The two of you engage in the same immediate shift away, both of you pretending you weren’t looking at each other, but you repeat the same process soon enough. Away and back again, away and back. 
Halfway through the third day, Race says something quietly to you under the guise of rearranging the papers in his bag. “I’m glad Jack put us together.”
You glance up at him in surprise, although for once the boy refuses to meet your eyes. Apparently his papers require a serious amount of attention, because he can’t seem to drag his gaze away from them.
“What?” You ask, not sure if he was even talking to you.
Race’s face flushes a little, but he keeps going anyway. “For this assignment, I mean. We haven’t really spoken before this, and I didn’t know you all too well, but I feel like I know you now. I’m glad we got the chance to talk more often, I mean.”
You smile, and a moment later, Race looks up at last and smiles as well. “I’m glad he had us work together too. I’ve liked getting to know you.”
Race’s face brightens at that. “See, I felt the same way. Always knew you were cool, right? I just never got the chance to check it out for myself.”
You laugh. “We’ve been in the same house and in the same job for years. You’ve had plenty of chances.”
Race playfully shoves you with a free hand. “Rude. You could have done the same thing, you know. I’m not the only one with the ability to speak.”
“Ah, but I thought I’d give you the chance to be a gentleman,” you say, “I wanted to be nice.”
Race scoffs. “Oh, because all of us newsies are nothing but gentlemen. I know I’m incredibly handsome and all that, but I’se never claimed to have manners.”
You grin. “Does that save me from having to be a proper lady? It’s never fit me half as well as Katherine, I can admit that.”
Race frowns. “Of course it does. You know, every now and then I see the two of you walking together and I’m never sure if you’re one of her rich friends or not. Trust me, you’se as ladylike as they come.”
Your brow furrows. “I didn’t realize you saw us. Or paid enough attention to notice us, for that matter. Hell, before Jack put us together I didn’t think you even knew my name.”
Race’s eyes widen. “Why wouldn’t I know you? Y/N, sweetheart, I’m hurt. If I’d known you thought that little of me, I’d have introduced myself a lot earlier.”
You laugh. “You’re calling me ‘sweetheart’ now? You really are taking this gentleman thing to heart, I can see that now. I’m sorry to have ruined your image. Consider me proven wrong. You did pay attention to me.”
The corners of Race’s lips twitch up into a smile despite his best attempts to silence it. “All the time, sweetheart. Far more often than you thought, believe me.”
He glances again once he says it, and you realize that Race might have been keeping a more careful eye on you than you thought. It makes you smile.
“You wouldn’t be the only one looking,” you say carefully, “I saw you too. Just didn’t think you were seeing me.”
The two of you have been walking down the block, but Race stops all of a sudden, looking you straight on with an intensity you haven’t ever seen on him before.
“I saw you all the time,” he whispers, eyes a deeper blue than ever, “I still do. I don’t think I see anybody but you.”
Your breath catches in your chest. You’ve pictured this moment, or something like it, dozens of times in your head, but those were only fantasies. This, though, this is real, and suddenly you don’t know what to say. All of your imagined responses suddenly bleed dry.
Race’s gaze flicks to your lips, and suddenly you know the perfect answer. With the last bit of your courage dancing like sparks around your eyes, you lean forward and kiss him. You’re close enough that you can feel Race startle when you do, but then he’s kissing you back with enough force that it’s your turn to be surprised. How long has he been wanting this? Perhaps just as long as you.
When the two of you break away, Race’s forehead is tilted against yours, his breath soft on your cheeks. “That was certainly something, sweetheart. I’m beginning to think that I should have asked us to be selling partners a long time ago.”
You laugh quietly. “We still have plenty of time.”
And so you do. Today seems endless, next week a blessed eternity. You have all the time in the world to explore this love, and in the meantime, you need to set up an appointment with your best friend. You certainly have a good story to tell.
newsies tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @misguidedswagger, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie
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pucksandpower · 4 days
Text
Young Love and Old Money
Max Verstappen x Stroll!Reader
Summary: Max quickly learns that life with the paddock’s favorite nepo baby as his girlfriend is never boring
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You take a deep breath as the town car pulls up to the grand arched doorway of your family’s Montreal estate. Beside you, Max squeezes your hand gently.
“Don’t worry, schatje,” he says, “Your father will love me.”
You smile nervously. “I hope so. But you know how protective he can be.”
Max grins. “I can handle it.”
The driver opens the door and you step out into the crisp night air, your heels clicking on the cobblestone. Max follows, straightening his suit jacket.
Inside, the foyer glitters with crystal chandeliers. A maid hurries to take your coats. As she leads you to the formal dining room, your heart pounds.
This dinner needs to go perfectly.
Your father and Lance are already seated at the long mahogany table, chatting. They look up as you enter and break into smiles.
“Y/N!” Your father exclaims warmly, standing to embrace you. “So wonderful to see you, mon minou.”
You hug him tightly back. “You too, Papa.”
Lance grins as he hugs you next. “Hey sis. Long time no see.”
You playfully mess up his hair. “Too long, little bro.”
Finally, you turn to Max, who is waiting patiently. “Papa, Lance, you already know my boyfriend, Max.”
Max steps forward confidently and shakes their hands. “Mr. Stroll, Lance, it’s an honor to finally meet you both properly.”
Your father looks Max up and down appraisingly. “The honor is mine, Max. Please, call me Lawrence.”
You let out a small sigh of relief as you all take your seats. So far, so good.
The first course is brought out — a decadent lobster bisque. You all sip appreciatively.
“Delicious,” Max compliments.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” your father says graciously. “Now, tell me Max, how is your season going so far?”
You tense slightly. Here it comes, the interrogation.
But Max just smiles. “It’s been excellent. A few tough races, but I’m leading the championship at the moment. The car has great pace and I think we have a shot at the title again this year.”
Lance jumps in enthusiastically. “I saw your battle with Charles last race when I was rewatching the tape. Epic stuff, man!”
“Thanks, mate,” Max chuckles. “It was a fun one for sure.”
You exhale in relief. Max is charming them perfectly.
The conversation flows easily through the next few courses. You can’t help but gaze admiringly at Max as he seamlessly meshes with your family. He has a natural confidence and charisma that puts everyone at ease.
Over dessert, your father says warmly, “Max, I can see why my Y/N cares for you. You’re clearly an exceptional young man, both on and off the track.”
Max smiles, touched. “Thank you, sir. Y/N is very special to me.” He squeezes your hand.
You beam, your heart swelling. This is going even better than you hoped.
You finish up the chocolate mousse and set down your spoon contentedly. “That was delicious. This dinner has been wonderful, thank you Papa.”
“Of course,” your father says fondly. “I’m so glad you both could make it out here from Monaco.”
“Thank you for having me,” Max adds.
“Anytime,” Lawrence smiles.
You glance around the table happily. Your boyfriend fits right in with your family. Everything feels so natural and perfect.
“Daddy, could you please pass the sugar?” You ask amiably.
Immediately, both Max and your father’s hands reach for the small pot of sugar in the center of the table. They both freeze awkwardly for a second, before Lawrence pulls his hand back slowly.
You feel your stomach drop as you see the dawning realization cross your father’s face.
Oh no.
This is bad.
Lawrence’s smile becomes forced. “So tell me Max, what exactly does my daughter call you?”
Max’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Um, just Max usually.”
You sink down in your chair, wincing.
Your father lets out a hollow laugh. “Is that so? Because it didn’t sound like that to me.”
A leaden silence descends on the table. Lance glances between you all, smothering a smirk.
Max clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, uh, that’s just a casual nickname really ...”
Lawrence raises an eyebrow. “A casual nickname you say? For my daughter to call her boyfriend in front of her family?”
You close your eyes, willing yourself to vanish. This is excruciatingly embarrassing.
“Dad, come on,” Lance snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “They’re young, it’s whatever.”
“No Lance, it’s not whatever,” your father snaps, an edge in his voice now. “I would like Max to explain himself here.”
Max holds up his hands placatingly. “Sir, I apologize if we’ve made you uncomfortable. But I assure you our relationship is completely respectful.”
You nod quickly. “Papa, he’s right. Can we please just move on?”
But Lawrence is unyielding. “I will not have anyone take liberties with my daughter, do you understand me, young man?”
Max looks properly chastened. “Yes sir, of course. I meant no offense.”
Your father bristles as he glares between you. The awkward tension hovers for several painful moments.
Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Papa, stop!” You blurt out. “I’m an adult now. You can’t control what I choose to do with my boyfriend.”
Lawrence looks stunned, then hurt. “Y/N, I’m just looking out for you ...”
“I know, but I don’t need protecting from Max. He’s wonderful and he makes me so happy. Can’t you let me make my own choices?”
Your father’s expression softens. He sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just … so hard for me to think of you growing up.”
You reach over and squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’ll always be your little girl.”
Lawrence smiles tenderly at you, then turns to Max. “Forgive my outburst, son. I can see how much you care for each other.”
Max looks relieved. “Of course, sir. I understand completely.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Crisis averted.
Your father stands, raising his glass. “To young love. May you always treat my daughter with the honor and respect she deserves.”
“I will, sir,” Max promises earnestly.
You all clink glasses, the tension dissolving. Conversation resumes, lighter and more relaxed now.
Later, as Max helps you on with your coat, your father claps him warmly on the back. “Thank you for making my daughter so happy. You’ll always be welcome in our home.”
Max’s face lights up. “Thank you, sir. That means the world.”
Lawrence winks. “I was young once too, you know. Just maybe keep the nicknames to yourselves around me.”
You all laugh together. Your heart swells with joy. Despite the awkward moments, the evening couldn’t have gone better.
As the chauffeur drives off into the night, you snuggle contentedly into Max’s shoulder. “Thank you for being so wonderful tonight,” you whisper.
He kisses your hair. “Of course, liefje. I would do it all over again for you.”
***
The sleek red Ferrari glints under the showroom lights as you and Max admire your reflection in the gleaming curves.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Max grins, running his hand along the hood. “I can’t wait to take her out on the open road.”
You smile at his childlike enthusiasm. “She certainly is gorgeous. You have great taste, babe.”
The salesman steps forward eagerly. “Yes, the Ferrari SF90 Stradale is our newest supercar model. Twin-turbo V8, 720 horsepower. She’ll do 0 to 60 in under three seconds.”
Max’s eyes light up. “Incredible. I think I’m in love already.”
You laugh. “Should I be jealous?”
“Never,” Max winks, pulling you in for a quick kiss.
The salesman smiles indulgently. “Why don’t we step into my office to finalize the paperwork?”
“Sounds good,” Max agrees, lacing his fingers through yours as you follow the salesman.
In the sleek minimalist office, you both take a seat across from the desk as the salesman pulls up Max’s file.
“Excellent. Everything looks in order, Mr. Verstappen,” he says briskly. “If you just sign here and here, we’ll get you all set up.”
Max eagerly scrawls his signature on the documents. You watch in amusement — he reminds you of a kid on Christmas morning.
“Alright, congratulations!” The salesman stands and shakes Max’s hand. “The SF90 is all yours. We’ll have her prepped and ready for you within the hour.”
“Amazing, thanks so much,” Max grins, standing up.
You’re about to follow him out when a flash of black catches your eye. Through the office window, you spot a brand new Ferrari model on display in the showroom.
“Ooh what’s that one?” You ask curiously, gazing at the aggressive curves and styling.
The salesman glances over. “The new 812 Competizione A. It is a limited edition 599-unit production run. Just unveiled last month.”
You feel a thrill run through you as you take in the stunning hypercar. “It’s incredible. I have to have it.”
Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? You want that one too?”
You turn to the salesman decisively. “I’ll take it. My family has bought from Ferrari for years, my name should be in your client database.”
“Of course, Miss Stroll,” the salesman nods, typing rapidly into his computer. “I see you right here. Let’s start the paperwork and we’ll get the car ordered for you right away.”
You grab your purse, immediately fishing out your black Centurion Card. “Just bill it to my usual card, thanks,” you say breezily, handing it over.
You can feel Max’s stunned gaze on you but you keep your focus on the salesman, reviewing the spec sheet and customization options.
This new Ferrari is just too sexy to resist.
Within minutes, the paperwork is signed and you’ve secured the very first 812 Competizione A destined to stay in Monaco. You grin excitedly — you can’t wait to get your hands on it.
“Thank you so much, just have it delivered to my place in the Fontvieille district when it’s ready,” you tell the appreciative salesman before turning to leave.
You lace your fingers through Max’s, still smiling about your new spontaneously purchased hypercar. “Ready to take your new baby out for a drive?”
Max is quiet as you walk back to the showroom, seemingly lost in thought. He stays silent as the gleaming red SF90 Stradale is pulled around, not even cracking a smile when the salesman hands over the keys with a flourish.
It’s not until you’ve been driving for several minutes, weaving along the coastal roads overlooking the Mediterranean, that Max finally speaks.
“That was 2.13 million euros,” he states flatly. “And you just ... bought it. Without a second thought.”
You glance over, taking in the unreadable expression on his face. “I mean, yeah, it’s a beautiful model. Why not just get it?” You say casually.
Max shakes his head slowly. “I just can’t wrap my head around having that kind of money. That you can just drop over two million without thinking twice.”
You shift slightly, feeling defensive. “I’m sorry, does it make you uncomfortable? I know I grew up with a very different lifestyle ...”
“No, that’s not it at all,” Max interrupts. He pauses, gazing out at the sparkling blue sea pensively.
“It’s just … I’m not used to being with someone who’s on my level. Financially, I mean. All my previous girlfriends, I always had to take care of everything. Pay for dinner, vacations, whatever they needed.”
He turns to look at you. “But you’re different. You have as much money as me, more even. You can buy a hypercar on a whim, no problem. It’s new territory.”
You chew your lip. “I don’t want you to feel emasculated or anything. If you want to pay or take care of things ...”
Max shakes his head again, more firmly this time. “That’s just it — I don’t. I like that you’re independent. It’s really ...”
He pauses, blushing slightly. ��Sexy. That’s the word. It’s sexy that you have your own money and success. I’m not used to feeling that in a relationship before.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. That was not the reaction you were expecting.
Max glances at you almost shyly. “Is that weird to say? I just mean, it’s different than what I’m used to, but in a good way. Like we’re equals, you know?”
Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “No, not weird at all. I get what you mean.” You reach over and squeeze his hand. “This is new territory for me too. But I like discovering it together.”
Max’s face lights up with that radiant smile that melts your heart. “Me too, liefje.”
Your conversation flows easily as you cruise along the seaside, the setting sun glittering on the water. And seeing the look in his eyes when he glances at you now — equal parts love and admiration — you realize just how right it feels.
Being with someone who can match you in every way is new and different for both of you. But you have a feeling it’s the start of something beautiful.
***
The energy buzzing around the paddock is electric as you walk hand-in-hand with Max towards the Red Bull motorhome. Fans line the barriers, cheering and shouting his name. Max smiles and waves, slowing to sign autographs and snap selfies with outstretched phones.
You hang back politely as he interacts with his adoring public. You know the drill by now, having attended countless races with your dad and brother over the years. Blend into the background and let the drivers have their moment.
“Max! Can we get an autograph?” A young girl calls out eagerly, brandishing a cap and marker pen.
“Of course!” Max says graciously, letting go of your hand to walk over.
You hang back contentedly, happy to let him have his moment with his supporters. You catch snippets of their supportive comments as Max signs item after item, posing for selfies in between.
“You’re the greatest, Max!”
“That last win was epic. Get that fourth title this year!”
“We love you so much!”
You smile to yourself. Seeing how much joy Max brings to these fans makes your heart swell with pride and affection.
As you stand waiting patiently, you overhear the girl lean over to her friend and not-so-subtly whisper, “Who’s the chick with Max? She looks kinda stuck up if you ask me.”
Your smile freezes. You see the girl jerk her head rudely in your direction, glaring at you.
“I know right,” her friend agrees in a carrying whisper. “Another gold-digger who managed to sink her claws into a rich man too blind to see what she’s doing.”
You clench your jaw, stung by their spiteful words. Who do they think they are, judging you when they don’t even know you?
Max is still occupied with the other fans, oblivious. You debate whether to just ignore the rude girls. But their jealous gossiping has sparked your defiance. Why should you stay silent?
Squaring your shoulders, you turn and level a steady gaze at them. “For your information, I don’t need a rich man. I am a rich man,” you state coldly.
Their eyes widen in shock, mouths dropping open stupidly. Clearly they weren’t expecting you to confront them.
Before they can react, Max is suddenly beside you, slipping his arm around your waist.
“Whoa, everything okay here?” His gaze darts between you and the embarrassed fans.
You take a breath, ready to explain it away. But Max doesn’t give you the chance.
“You know, if anything, I’m the one who got my claws hooked into her,” he announces, lips curving into a smirk.
Now it’s your turn to gape at him in surprise. The nasty fans look completely bewildered.
“That’s right ladies, I’m just a kept man,” Max continues lightly. “Her arm candy. A sugar baby, if you will.”
He pretends to examine his nails arrogantly and you have to stifle a shocked laugh. Is he actually joking about being your boy toy right now?
Max leans in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, dating a Stroll has done wonders for my bank account. I mean have you seen the new and improved garage decor?”
You smother your grin behind your hand as he prattles on, winking at you.
“So don’t worry about Y/N here, she can buy and sell me twice over.” Max presses a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Isn’t that right, schatje?”
Finally you can’t hold back your laughter anymore. Max joins in and the fans stare, unsure how to react.
“Come on sugar mama, we’ve got a race to win,” Max says breezily, steering you away.
Once safely inside the garage, you turn to him incredulously. “What was that all about?”
Max shrugs, his expression sobering. “I heard what they said. Just wanted to shut them up and defend my girl.”
Your heart melts. Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him soundly. “My hero. Thank you.”
Max still looks bothered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with stupid gossip. Especially not lies about you using me.”
You slip your arms around his neck persuasively. “It usually doesn’t get to me. Let the jealous haters talk. We know the truth.”
He sighs, gently moving a strand of hair from your face. “I just hate anyone thinking badly of you. You deserve the world.”
Touched by his sincerity, you pull him down into a soft kiss. When you finally draw apart, an idea pops into your head.
“Although ...” you begin thoughtfully, “Maybe we should lean into it.”
Max looks confused. “What do you mean?”
You grin mischievously. “You’re my hot trophy boyfriend. I need to show you off and treat you right.”
Comprehension dawns on Max’s face and he barks out a laugh. “Well I won’t say no to being spoiled.”
He winks roguishly and you dissolve into giggles. The stupid gossipers don’t know anything. You and Max are just perfect together.
For the rest of the weekend, you shamelessly flaunt your new role as Max’s “sugar mommy.” At every opportunity, you shower him with over-the-top gifts and PDA in front of the other drivers and team members.
Designer watches, bouquets of flowers, bottles of decadent gin for his favorite drink — you deliver them all publicly to Max along with cooed compliments and kisses. You can see the amusement hidden behind his mock protests at being “objectified.”
The other drivers are endlessly entertained. Daniel teases Max about latching onto an heiress, while Charles jokingly asks if you have a sister he can date.
By the time Max wins on Sunday, cementing his spot at the top of the championship, the silly gossip from earlier in the weekend is long forgotten.
As you snuggle together on the flight home from the race, you turn to Max curiously. “So, how does it feel being a kept man?”
He pretends to consider it deeply. “Hmm, tough to say. The gifts and pampering were nice ...”
You swat his chest indignantly and he laughs.
“Kidding, kidding,” he assures, pulling you tighter against him. “Obviously I love you for you, not your money, schatje.”
His voice softens. “Thank you for this weekend. I know the gossip bothered you, even if you didn’t show it. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”
You tilt your face up to meet his lips, kissing him tenderly. No more words are needed. Being together says it all.
***
The roar of the crowd surrounds you as you step onto the red carpet on Max’s arm, cameras flashing wildly. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and leans in close.
“You ready for this, liefje?”
You take a deep breath and nod, pasting on a smile. “Ready.”
This is your big formal debut — attending your first FIA Prize Giving Ceremony as Max’s girlfriend. And with him just winning his fourth World Championship, all eyes are sure to be on you both tonight.
You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you begin the walk down the carpet, waving politely to the fans shouting Max’s name. He looks completely at ease, his fourth-straight title boosting his confidence even higher.
You, on the other hand, feel like you might trip over your gown at any moment under the blinding spotlights. But you keep your chin high, channeling the poise that’s been drilled into you since girlhood.
Perks of growing up in high society — you know how to fake it on a red carpet.
About halfway down, an interviewer steps forward, microphone in hand. “Max Verstappen! Congratulations on your fourth championship. How are you feeling tonight?”
Max smiles easily. “Thank you, it feels amazing. It was a great battle all season long so this one feels very satisfying.”
The reporter nods, then turns her attention to you. “And who is this lovely lady accompanying you tonight?”
“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Max introduces you proudly.
“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning tonight, if you don’t mind me saying,” the interviewer gushes. “That gown is exquisite!”
You relax slightly, warming to her friendly tone. “Thank you so much!” You smile.
“In fact, both of your outfits are fabulous,” she continues. “Who are you wearing tonight?”
Max’s face lights up. He squeezes your hand excitedly. “Funny you should ask — we’re both wearing custom Y/N Stroll originals!”
You have to resist the urge to giggle at the unconcealed pride in his voice.
The interviewer’s eyes widen. “No way, you designed these yourselves?”
You nod, enjoying her reaction. “I did, yeah. Fashion design is a bit of a hobby of mine.”
“A hobby she’s amazing at,” Max interjects adoringly. “She could have her own luxury brand if she wanted. I feel so honored to wear her work.”
You blush at his high praise. “Oh Max, stop. But thank you, that’s so sweet.”
The reporter seems thrilled at this exclusive scoop. “Incredible! It looks like you have some serious talent, Y/N. Any plans to pursue that more seriously?”
You hesitate briefly. Your father has been gently nudging you to take over his fashion business when he retires. But that’s still in the future ...
You decide to give a lighthearted answer. “We’ll see! Fashion does run in my family so it’s always a possibility.” You finish with a coy smile.
“How wonderful! We’ll be keeping an eye out for Y/N Stroll designs in the future then,” the reporter concludes enthusiastically.
You grin and wave as she lets you continue down the carpet, Max’s arm securely around your waist.
“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He murmurs in your ear.
“Not at all,” you admit. “I might get used to this whole red carpet thing after all.”
Max winks. “Stick with me and you’ll be a pro in no time.”
Your heart flutters happily. Being by his side just feels so right.
Inside the lavish venue, you’re shown to your table near the front with the other top drivers and their partners. Max pulls out your chair politely before sitting down beside you.
You chat with the other girls at the table, fellow WAGs you’ve gotten to know over the course of the season. They gush over the dress you designed, making you promise to create something for them too.
Soon, the lights dim and the ceremony begins. You clap loudly as Max wins Driver of the Year, bursting with pride for your champion.
Finally, the moment comes for the big one. The announcer begins the buildup, recapping the season’s epic title battle between Max and his closest rival.
"… And in the end, one man emerged victorious for the fourth time in his young but dazzling career,” the announcer concludes. “Formula 1 World Driver’s Champion ... Max Verstappen!”
The room explodes into thunderous applause as Max squeezes your hand and makes his way up to the stage, beaming. You watch with tears in your eyes as he accepts the trophy, looking so handsome and accomplished.
After the ceremony finishes, Max makes his way back to you, trophy in hand. You throw your arms around him. “I’m so proud of you!”
He hugs you tight, then pulls back, his expression earnest. “I couldn’t have done it without your support this season. Having you by my side means everything to me.”
Your heart swells and you kiss him tenderly. “You deserve this so much. And nothing makes me happier than being with you.”
Max’s eyes shine. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Max.”
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hemmingsleclerc · 2 months
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max is streaming and olivia just starts putting like hair clips in his hair and doing him hair styles and putting on some kids makeup on his faces😂😂 this is so girldad
Daddy's Girl ┃MV1
So so cute this request!!🥲💗
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It was a Saturday afternoon and Max was at home with his wife and daughter Olivia. Max, being on a vacation from the world of f1, was enjoying some time off, so that day he had decided to do a live on Twitch since he hadn't done one in a while.
While Max played concentratedly on the virtual track with his friends, the chat was filled with comments. Suddenly, the sound of small footsteps echoed in Max's room. Olivia, with her small pink backpack with the Disney princesses logo, made her triumphant entrance.
Viewers couldn't believe their eyes when Olivia appeared on screen. Max, still focused on the race, seemed taken aback when he heard the rustle of her small backpack.
Out of nowhere, Olivia pulled out a Barbie makeup set, complete with a variety of bright and colorful colors along with butterfly and flower clips. With the confidence of a professional makeup artist, she approached her unsuspecting father, who was still competing against his friends.
While she laughed with joy, Max played along, pretending to be a serious player with a new hair and matching makeup.
She delicately applied brightly colored makeup along with small sparkles in his eyes, creating a masterpiece on his father's face, much to the delight of the viewers.
''Daddy smile to put you pink blush''
''Like this?'' Max said without taking his eyes off the screen.
''Yes''
Just before finishing her work she told her father to put on ''duck lips'', Max not knowing what that meant took a quick look at what his daughter was trying to say before copying her action to put lip gloss on him.
"You look bonita, papa!" Olivia exclaimed, using her limited Spanish vocabulary she had picked up from her mom.
''Thank you very much angel , all this thanks to you''
Before Olivia left she could hear her uncle Lando tell her father "Max, you've never looked more handsome mate!", clearly mocking him but with Olivia's innocence, she happily approached her father, grabbed the small microphone and said with a loud voice ''Uncle Lando, you will be my next client!''
''Of course he will, angel'' Max responded, laughing with his little girl.
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pierregazly · 2 months
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always the prize, always the winner ꨄ logan sargeant smau
logan sargeant x pop star!reader
in which logan is actually pretty okay with being known as the biggest pop star in the world's arm candy. who would complain about that, really?
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yourusername
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yourusername back doing what i do best!! (watching this handsome man get asked solely about me in interviews and then singing songs about it) (ps i love you) (pps yes that is a song)
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logansargeant why are you so obsessed with me?
logansargeant im not complaining btw cause like... never stop?
logansargeant but also pps cant wait to hear it 🤍
yourusername just for this attitude you're the LAST to hear it now (handsome)
username still never gonna understand how LOGAN SARGEANT bagged ms ma'am but okay! 🤭
username a couple mutually obsessed with each other? (gag) (obsessed)
oscarpiastri i get asked questions about you too?
yourusername yes and your one word answers are SO riveting.
username why is no one talking about the SONG??? PS I LOVE YOU???? im going to throw up
username it's going to be the most disgustingly loving obsessive song ever and it's all about this american MAN
username never seen a man luckier than logan sargeant
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logansargeant has posted a story
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yourusername nothing makes me happier than running into you in the most random of places. always there when i need you most 🫶🏻
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logansargeant i would meet you in the middle of a croc swamp if i had to
logansargeant not a snake pit though, you're on your own for that one kid
yourusername you're on your own kid... what a song title 🤭
alex_albon we have a race next week??? in australia??? why are you in america
logansargeant 🤫
username god these two make me sick!!! (affectionate)
username if they ever break up... imagine the album ugh. i need it
username maybe let's not wish a breakup on anyone??? especially these two?? wtf
lilymhe begging u to release the songs even if they're about logan
yourusername they're actually about you?? 🫶🏻
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tagged logansargeant and yourusername
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ynupdates during an interview before the melbourne gp this weekend, logan gushed about finally getting to see yn after a few weeks apart, and when asked if she'd be attending any of the upcoming gp's all he did was smile and say 'she could be here right now, but i'm not going to be the one to expose her?' - so, if anyone is at the melbourne gp be sure to keep your eyes out!
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username oh he SO flew to san fran so she wouldn't have to fly to australia alone.. king energy??
username i know he always says he's the winner but that man would walk through hell for her so idk
username omg omg im gonna be at the gp this weekend!!! i'll keep an extra eye on everything and anything william's
username imagine going to a FORMULA 1 RACE and running into THEE pop star yn
username logan it's your weekend to get some points!!! impress your gf, be the prize and the winner for once!! (at least get points)
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yourusername has posted a story
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logansargeant not you posting my garage but not even coming to see me??? hell is a place on earth and it's where i am right now
yourusername literally my words every time im away from you??? go win points love u my handsome lil eagle man <333
logansargeant gross <3
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liked by yourusername, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and others
logansargeant LFGGGGG!! first points of the year, and a 5th place finish at the melbourne gp!! let's go up from here!! honoured to have had my best friend here, always gonna be a winner when you're involved angel 💗
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yourusername literally wreck my plans, THAT'S my man
yourusername so fricken proud of you handsome!!! knew calling you my lil eagle man would win you some points
yourusername love you so much pls
logansargeant love you more pretty <3
williamsracing that's OUR shared comfort american man. it's all up from here!
username LFGGGG
username RAH RAH WTF IS A KM 🦅
username 🦅🦅🦅
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tagged logansargeant
liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, oscarpiastri, and 12,320,433 others
yourusername in honour of my boyfriend, my new album 'lover' will be out 24.03.14 - an ode to the man who has shown me how you can be a prize and a winner all in one. logan, i love you more than anything. always.
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logansargeant and to think i always said it was a joke when i asked you to write an album for me.
logansargeant i love you to the moon and back, i know i've heard every song but i can't wait to hear it again. you're the best ever
yourusername god. i'm so lucky to be known as yours lo 💗
oscarpiastri if anyone asks me about this. one word answers only. riveting.
yourusername riveting?
oscarpiastri riveting.
username I KNEW IT
username THERE WAS WAY TOO MANY REFS TO NEW SONGS
username god this is gonna make me feel so single. i literally can't wait.
ynnation love songs for the ages, we know it. an icon, and congrats to logan for getting his first points of the year!!
username this is SO for all the logan haters, ain't none of y'all ever gonna make our girl feel the way he does!!!
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authors notes
this was so self-indulgent bc i haven't written in forever but im going through a logan phase. i hope you all love it 💗 i also lost my tag list so pls enjoy regardless ily
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ryssbelle · 3 months
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Thought of this while at work, sorry it's a bit hard to read I sketched it out really fast before my last shift lmao wanted to get it done so I could work on other stuff hehe
If it's any consultation Floyd is mostly talking about himself
#my art#trolls#dreamworks trolls#brozone#trolls 3#trolls floyd#trolls john dory#trolls branch#trolls poppy#the way i imagine their 20 years in troll village is that one meme where its the two different nothing in life matters pics#but one is super sad and the other is happy looking and radical#thats floyd and jd#but they switch places depending on the day#branch is a secret third option#also idk what id do with the 3rd movies plot#this scene in my head is 3rd movie era but i like havent decided what theyre doing yet#theres a few possibilities on whos in the bottle or if theres a bottle at all#this would take place in a timeline where clay or bruce is in the bottle#but like heres the thing any of the brothers could be bottled and itd make for a good story#i drift more towards clay only for the irony of finding out your brothers alive but its a race against time cuz hes literally dying#so it adds to the urgency but then its not much adventure cuz they just gotta get bruce and go#cuz we have 3/5 brozone here already#same goes for if its bruce#so like for story purposes that means it would be most likely JD or Floyd which is just most aus and canon#cuz after world tour Floyd would travel with JD on their own tour Floyd going solo with JD as his manager#and in this scenario they came back to tell Branch about finding whoever is in the bottle#but the story of these guys could also work without any bottle so idk we'll just have to see what i decide to do later#also im slowly coming up with a name for this#very slowly but it'll happen#i actually have a google doc that has a name so i may just use that
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beiasluv · 2 months
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red, white, blue | l. sargeant (2)
a/n: I blame tiktok again…
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ynalbon replied to logansargeant’s story
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ynalbon: they are so ugly
ynalbon: I need 😭
: talking abt me or the sweater?
ynalbon: 😳😳
ynalbon: *professionally
: loll
: btw heard you’re visiting soon
ynalbon: yessirr
: alright
: see ya
ynalbon: 👍
ynalbon 2h
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f1gossips
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liked by username, username and 26,618 others
f1gossips Yn Albon spotted at the paddock today with her brother and fans!
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username omg??? THE STORY?
username fav albon is in the house 🤭
username gurl you did not
username so anyone saw that never have I ever…
username LOGAN AND YN??
username What’s HAPPENING
username Logan????? 😦
username I could NOT be making up the way he looks at her in the story
username I KNOEW RIGHT
username yall know he’s wearing a damn sunglasses 💀
username LOGAN CAN YOU FIGHT
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: dudeee
oscar: what’d you do?
: i think she hates me
oscar: Logan.
: Alex was pulled off so I offered to walk her back to the motorhome
: and she posted me on her story
: and tagged me???
oscar: so you just went on a walk with her
: and she replied with 👍 to my pick up line
oscar: the sweater one?
oscar: I mean
oscar: Alex seemed chill about it 🤷‍♂️
: that’s because he DOESNT know
oscar: simp
: I’m not
oscar: simp
read 17:13
ynalbon
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liked by logansargeant, georgerussell63 and 31,166 others
ynalbon he’s 27 and I still go to watch him play 🫶
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lilymhe we love a supportive sister ❤️❤️
ynalbon ikrrr 😚
alex_albon *professionally
ynalbon understandable
username Eyes. Logan 😩
username somebody tell logan that it is illegal to look at yn like that 😭
username YN FOR THE GIRLIESSS
username GOD BLESS AMERICAAA 🦅🦅🦅
username so does he approves??
username when’s the wedding😩
ynalbon
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liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 43,261 others
ynalbon hi nyc 🗽
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username lando??
username tell me something I don’t knowww
username SHE’S IN USA 🦅🦅🦅
username USA USA USA 🇺🇸
username where’s Logan.
logansargeant 25m
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oscar: you finally did it huh
: a win is a win 🔥
oscar: Finally.
oscar: when is it happening then?
: idk man
: end of this week? month?
oscar: best of luck to you then🫡
: 🫡
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logansargeant
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liked by frederikvestiofficial, oscarpiastri and 46,268 others
logansargeant great to be back in the keys
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ynalbon it’s giving animal crossing
logansargeant whatever that is 🫡
ynalbon you don’t know animal crossing? 😭
username heartbeenbrokesomanytimesdontknowwhattobelive
username ITS HAPPENINF YALL
username that’s very American of you, Logan. Now propose 😠
username y'all need to calm down 😭
username what’s that??
username even Fred is here 😭
landonorris 26m | alex_albon 3m
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logsnsargeant 42m | lilymhe 13m
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ynalbon
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liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri and 97,281 others
ynalbon god bless America ❤️
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username justice for Alex 💀
the ending is shit but it is what it is 😔
I’m gonna start doing taglist fr now so lmk if you wanna be added
— @jsjcue @namgification
edit: pt.2
any interaction would be greatly appreciated 🫶 today’s a good day to take care of yourself!
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