dreamauri

[dreamauri]

St. Tropez, June 2025

[dreamauri]

. . . ( guys, the two weeks or so i've been gone have been so hectic, i barely got time to watch the races and for some reason i've gained a new obsession. i watched gladiator two then BAM!! BRO SOMEONE TELL ME WHY IS JOSEPH QUINN SO SO SO SO AUGHH!! yk i watched stranger things season 4 just for him and watched dickensian, and hoard (what a weird movie but he was so hot like wtf) and now i'm waiting on fantastic four. such ashame he's bald /jk )

[dreamauri]

SHE'S BAAAACK

[dreamauri]

why does everyone f1 fanartist draw charles clean shaven. GIVE THIS MAN HIS MUSTACHE BACK!!!!!!

[dreamauri]

PRANKING YOUR F1!HUSBAND BY CALLING HIM YOUR BOYFRIEND

( texts masterlist \ main masterlist \ let’s talk )

★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ★ : genre :: crack: mature? ★ : inspo :: @/retiredteabag

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

★ : a/n :: ignore the typos, comments, thoughts and reblogs are appreciated!

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part thirteen max verstappen x reader ( angst ) series summary , when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.

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

Singapore humidity clings to him like regret.

The air is thick, wet, metallic. Reporters swarm like bees around the paddock, drivers dodge cameras, and Max Verstappen is quietly losing his mind.

Then he sees you.

You're back.

Wearing business clothes like armor, badge swinging on your lanyard, laughing—actually laughing—with Zak Brown. Lando’s there too, throwing in some over-the-top joke, likely trying to make you smile wider. It works.

It always works with you.

Max doesn't move. Doesn’t blink. Just . . . watches.

You haven't seen him yet.

And maybe that's okay. Maybe this is enough—for now.

Because you're real again. Not a name. Not a note. Not a memory or a playlist or a silence.

You.

You feel him before you see him. Like heat. Like gravity.

You laugh at something Lando says—something about electric scooters and McLaren-branded ice cream—and then your eyes catch on a shape in the distance. Tall. Still. Watching.

It’s him.

Max.

You look away before your heart shows itself, but it’s too late. The world shifts. Your pulse jumps lanes. You excuse yourself quickly, breath catching like static in your chest.

He doesn’t move as you walk toward him.

Just watches. That same look.

So you do what you swore you wouldn’t.

You take his hand.

And this time you pull him into the alley behind the motorhomes.

Same as before.

Only this time, the air is quieter.

No storms. Just tension.

He doesn't know what to say.

You're close. You're real. And you’re looking at him like you still remember everything.

He opens his mouth—but you speak first.

“I don’t know how to be friends with Max Verstappen.”

The words fall between you like a confession. Like an apology.

He takes a breath.

“Then be more.”

It should’ve scared you, that answer.

But it doesn’t.

You’re done being scared. Done pretending that your heart didn’t leap every time Amilian logged on. Done lying to yourself about who that really was.

Your hand finds his cheek. Soft. Sure.

No usernames. No screen delay. No hiding.

You kiss him.

Not like a maybe. Not like a test.

Like a beginning.

His hands are gentle, cautious, as if he’s scared you’ll change your mind. But you don’t. You won’t. Not this time.

You pull back first. Just enough to see his face.

His eyes are full of light.

 Full of you.

The air stills.

You look at him. He looks at you.

And then—without warning—he crashes his lips onto yours again.

This kiss is different. Slower. Deeper.

 It’s not about impulse. Not about heat or hunger.

It’s love.

Thick and full and terrifying in theory but not in practice. Not with him.

You let him wrap his arms around your waist, let him pull you flush to his chest, like he’s been dying to hold you for years. Maybe he has. Maybe you have too.

The weather is sticky and unforgiving, Singapore heat pressing against your skin like fire. But you don’t care. Not when he’s this close. Not when his hands are gentle and his mouth is reverent.

Not when his heart is beating against yours like it’s whispering finally.

You kiss him back like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Because it is.

No usernames. No secrets.

Just Max and you.

[dreamauri]

help my message completely cut off but congratulations on 4k 🥳 i love your work so much and you deserve it 🫶

. . . ( thank you lovelyyyy ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️)

[dreamauri]

He’s a predator but also a cute little speed potato

[dreamauri]

Max in Salzburg today

June 4, 2025

[dreamauri]

Congrats on 4k!! Silly question: Would you rather be able to speak with animals or be able to speak every human language? I've been debating this with my friends for a week lol

. . . ( this is a tough question. idk why but I'd rather be able to speak every language. i love learning languages, find it beautiful and romantic. speaking to animals would be cute too, but speaking every language is something I want more )

[dreamauri]

Congrats on 4k!!! I check your blog daily because your work is scrumptious ✨️

Could I request Garden Angels for me please? I'm 23, British and a Primary School Teacher for little ones 🫶 I like gardening, drawing, reading and rock climbing (oh and Formula 1 ofc, my best friend got me into it a couple years back). I spend most of my time either in my class or enjoying the outdoors :)

Let me know what you think but no pressure!

Congrats again, you deserve it all 💐

. . . ( hiiii!! first of all, thank you for all your support, it means so much too me <3 second of all, your job is so cute!! I ship you with Lewis, it just resonates with me for some reason )

[dreamauri]

Max: New year, same me. Because I'm perfect.

[dreamauri]

Y'all want mad Max back so bad but the second he starts killing people you all start crying and throwing up

[dreamauri]

they’re picking max up in this later

[dreamauri]

. . . ( i'm proud to say that may was another successful month, at least one post every day, consistently. i'm very proud of that. i'm taking the opportunity to take a small break until friday the 20th. i will still update my wired in series every monday, as promised. see you guys until then )

rogress report for THE MONTH OF MAY 2025

( main master list ) ( requests ) ( last month )

progress meter -> ( 51% )

WEEK ONE ✅️

thin walls and thinner patience — cl16 + cs55 ( smut )

no, not dearer than you — op81 ( angst )

tied up — cl16 ( smut )

WEEK TWO ✅️

you in every corner — mv1 ( fluff )

wired in, IX — mv1 ( angst )

mommy mommy — ln4 ( smut )

sol de mi, corazon — cs55 ( fluff )

straighten my heart out — cl16 ( fluff )

before you even ask — ln4 ( fluff )

dedicated to the one i love, XV — mv1 ( fluff )

yes in golden hour — cs55 ( fluff )

WEEK THREE

chase me — mv1 ( fluff )

i've got the bill — mv1 ( fluff )

let me pay — cl16 ( fluff )

my turn — cs55 ( fluff )

wired in?, X — mv1 ( angst )

dedicated to the one I love, XVI — mv1 ( fluff )

better say yes — op81 ( fluff )

WEEK FOUR

touch and go — cl16 ( suggestive )

heart theif — mv1 ( fluff )

wired in?, XI — mv1 ( fluff/angst )

fluency from the heart — cs55 ( fluff )

dedicated to the one I love, XVII — mv1 ( fluff )

passenger princess — sv5 ( fluff )

in any language — kr7 ( fluff )

WEEK FIVE

entre cada palabra — fc43 ( fluff )

sunwarmed skin — kr7 ( fluff )

user is typing... — op81 ( fluff + crack )

aftercare — cs55 ( fluff )

dedicated to the one I love, XVIII — mv1 ( fluff )

wired in?, XII — mv1 ( fluff/angst )

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part twelve max verstappen x reader ( angst ) series summary , when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.

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

It starts with a package. No return address. No note at first. Just . . . something you recognize.

The necklace. From your Pinterest board. The one you showed him offhandedly months ago during a call, laughing that you'd “rob a French heiress for it.”

You hold it in your hands like it's ticking. Like it's fragile. Like it's from someone who doesn't exist anymore.

And then comes the second one. A soft blue sweater — oversized, folded neatly, the exact shade you told Amilian made you feel safe. 

After that came the postcard. From Italy. Sent during the Monza weekend.

The handwriting is so bad it almost makes you laugh softly and tear up.

“Still here. Still me. Without the username.”

Your breath catches.

You don’t have to guess. You know who it is. You’ve always known.

Max.

It’s terrifying, somehow, even though you’ve known him longer than most people in your life. Two and a half years.

Two and a half years of inside jokes and racing trash talk and late-night rambling. Two and a half years of Amilian. Two and a half years of Max.

But for some reason, it hurts to acknowledge it was Max this whole time, feeling like you were killing Amillian, who never even existed in the first place. Amillian was his own person, maybe.

You start writing your own messeges. You can’t help it.

They live in your nightstand drawer now. On yellow post-its and scraps of receipts and the backs of café napkins. Things you want to say but can’t bring yourself to send, despite being close with the man for almost 3 years.

“Why did you let me fall for you like that?” “Was I ever real to you, or just an escape?” “I hate how much I miss you.” “I don’t know how to stop.”

You fold them all into a box marked drafts. Except for one.

One you write on a notecard. Clean, deliberate, in your best handwriting.

You fold it in half. Seal it. Take it to the café. The same one he knows to find you at. The same one that still makes your mocha exactly how you like it.

You don’t even know if he’ll come back.

You don’t know if it’ll reach him.

But you give it to the barista with shaky hands and say, “If he comes in again . . . give him this.”

You don’t sign it.

You don’t have to.

Three days later, Max Verstappen finishes fifth in Baku. Again.

The car underperforms. The strategy flops.

The media swarms him like vultures.

He smiles for the cameras. But the moment he's alone, it crumbles.

The world feels too sharp. Too wide.

 He doesn’t want to be Max Verstappen right now.

 He wants to be someone else. Someone you loved.

He wishes he still had Amillian, despite him being the one who ended him.

And so he goes to Paris.

No plan. No notice. Just instinct and ache and the hope that maybe, maybe he’ll find around this time. Maybe the café remembers him. Maybe the silence will break.

The bell above the café door jingles softly as he walks in. The same barista looks up and smiles, reaching under the counter.

“She left this for you.”

His heart stutters. The note is folded carefully. Neat. Your handwriting. He would know it anywhere.

He opens it right there, fingers trembling like a rookie on his first grid start.

Inside, in ink that curves like your voice:

“What if I wanted both of you?”

Max sits down hard in the nearest chair.

Staring at the paper. At the words. At the door.

His hands are shaking.

Because maybe — just maybe — he hasn’t lost you yet.

[dreamauri]

꒰꒰ ‧₊˚ 𝗥𝗢𝗥𝗬'𝗦 𝗖𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝟰𝗞 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

i seriously can't believe we hit 4k in 2.5 months! i have 4 thousand people following me! this is insane! i'm over the moon!!!! I started this blog aimlessly and was unsure what to do with it, but i grew so much with this blog and i'm so grateful to everyone who liked, reblogged and commented. you guys have made my life so much brighter and have given me the confidence to write more and pursue it outside of this blog <3 you all mean so much to me. request as much as you want.

schedule. — ( 30th may : 13th june) ← back to nav

. . . ( LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS ) ⤷ get to know me! ask me about my favourite books, movies, tv shows, or just gossip with me! whatever u want like send me random stuff, tiktok edits, memes, anything.

. . . ( DUCKS AND CHICKS ) ⤷ cym, fmk / kmk, would you rather, top 5, etc. common tumblr games.

. . . ( DREAM DAY AND NIGHT ) ⤷ I'll make a mood board that I think matches your blog theme, and add a song based on what I think matches you

. . . ( DAHLIAS ARE PINK ) ⤷ send me a driver + and a prompt (example: lando + spring vibes) and I'll make a mood board for it

. . . ( GARDEN ANGELS ) ⤷ send me a description of yourself + a fandom and gender preference, and i’ll ship you with a character

. . . ( BOOKS ON A SWING ) ⤷ send me driver + a scenario/prompt (example: rivals to lovers with max verstappen) and I'll make a small playlist for it

moots — ( @tommydarlings @frnqndq @leclerking @jenniferrvsesi @natailiatulls07 @starshapedb0x @notsleepyy @f1version @goldsainz @h4m1lt0ns @byzinla @st4rg1rln @forza55 @lancelechair @gloinksandsploinks @winterbarnesblog @vettelsbuttons @156l @luliwtf @landitolover @formula1fandom @vettelsvee @leclarifies @chemicalcryptid @norristeria @chugging-antiseptic-dye )