#redbulldriver!reader

[eveninggstar]

teammates and tensions ⊹ ࣪ ˖

Rivalry Rekindled-rewrite

max verstappen x RedBullDriver!reader

06.05.24-(rewrite 17.07.24)

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୨ৎ From the age of 9, you and Max Verstappen have been locked in fierce competition on the racing track. Growing up, you intimately learned each other’s techniques, paving the way for what could have been a formidable partnership. However, despite your shared prowess, there’s one glaring issue - an unyielding disdain for each other. As you navigate the world of motorsport, your rivalry intensifies, fuelling both your desire for victory and your deep-seated animosity towards one another.

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The sun blazes down on the karting track, the summer heat of 2006 creating shimmering waves off the tarmac. It's a big day for the young racers, all eager to prove their mettle. Among them is you, the only girl in the pack, your determined eyes hidden behind your helmet as you grip the steering wheel.

You started in 9th position, but you're not about to let that deter you. With every lap, you skilfully manoeuvre your way past your competitors, your kart whizzing by in a blur of colour and speed. Your mind is focused, every muscle in your body taut with concentration. You're gaining on the leader, who has held the top position from the start.

The boy in front is driving precisely and aggressively, maintaining his lead with practiced ease. He seems almost untouchable, his kart weaving through the course. But you've been watching him, studying his moves, and you see your chance.

On the penultimate lap, you make your move. As you approach a tight corner, you accelerate, your kart surging forward. You take the inside line, your kart brushing dangerously close to the leader's. For a moment, you're side by side, wheels almost touching. Then, with a burst of speed, you overtake him, leaving him momentarily stunned.

The crowd erupts in cheers as you cross the finish line in first place, your heart pounding with exhilaration. You remove your helmet, your face flushed with triumph, your eyes scanning the spectators for your dad. But before you can find him, you turn to see the boy stepping out of his kart, his expression a mixture of frustration and awe.

Gathering your courage, you approach him, your smile bright. "Hey, that was a great race," you say, extending your hand. "What's your name?"

Before he can respond, a tall figure appears behind him, his presence imposing. "Max," says Jos Verstappen, his voice firm as he places a hand on his son's shoulder. He gives you a cursory glance before steering Max away. The young boy looks back at you, a mixture of curiosity and something else in his eyes.

You watch them go, feeling a pang of disappointment. Your moment of connection with a fellow racer has been abruptly cut short. Turning away, you spot your dad near the pits, his arms crossed, his expression stern.

You approach him, your steps slowing as you see the look on his face. "Dad, did you see? I won!" you say, jumping up and down with the first-place trophy, hoping to see some glimmer of pride in his eyes.

He nods, but his face remains impassive. "You only won by a few seconds," he says, his tone cool. "You need to focus more. And stop being so friendly with the competition. This isn't about making friends. It's about winning."

Your heart sinks, the thrill of victory dimming in the shadow of his words. You bite your lip and nod, the joy of the race slipping away. You glance back once more at Max, now standing with his father seemingly getting the same reprimand you're receiving, and feel a flicker of connection with someone who understands you.

A year has passed, and you find yourself once again on the karting circuit, facing Max in race after race. During one particularly intense competition, you finish second to his first. Determined to congratulate him, you approach him in the paddock.

"Nice job out there, Max," you say, hoping for at least a nod of acknowledgment.

Max looks at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before turning away without a word. His silence stings, but you grit your teeth and tell yourself it's just part of racing.

Another year, another season of karting. You've gotten used to Max's aloof demeanour, but it doesn't make it any easier. After a close race where you managed to clinch third place behind Max's second, you find yourself next to him in the waiting area.

"Hey, Max," you try again, "that was a tight race, huh?"

Max doesn't even look at you this time. He simply walks away, leaving you standing there, feeling invisible. The frustration begins to build, but you channel it into your racing, determined to prove yourself on the track.

By 2009, the tension between you and Max has reached a boiling point. During a particularly heated race, you and Max battle fiercely for the lead. You manage to edge him out, taking first place. As you exit your kart, you catch Max's glare from across the paddock.

"You got lucky," he mutters as he walks past you.

You feel your face flush with anger. "It wasn't luck, Max. It was skill," you retort, but he's already turned his back on you, dismissing your victory as a fluke.

The karting circuit is abuzz with excitement, the races becoming more competitive each year. You and Max have developed a well-known rivalry. After yet another intense race where you finish just behind him, you decide to confront him directly.

"Max, why do you always ignore me?" you demand, frustration boiling over. "What’s your problem?"

Max smirks, his eyes cold. "Maybe I just don't think you're worth my time," he says, his words cutting deeper than any physical blow.

The 2011 season is gruelling, and your rivalry with Max has only intensified. After a race where you both crash out due to aggressive driving, you find yourself next to him once more, adrenaline still pumping.

"Maybe if you weren't so reckless, we wouldn't have crashed," you snap, unable to hold back your anger.

Max scoffs, his disdain palpable. "Maybe if you were a better driver, you wouldn't need to blame others for your mistakes," he retorts before walking away.

As you watch him go, your hands clench into fists. Any hope of friendship or mutual respect has long since evaporated, replaced by a burning desire to beat him at his own game. Max Verstappen has solidified his place not just as a rival, but as the embodiment of everything you strive to overcome.

The Bahrain night sky glows under the floodlights, casting a dramatic backdrop for the opening race of the 2023 Formula 1 season. The tension in the air is almost tangible as you grip the steering wheel of your Red Bull RB19, your eyes locked on the car ahead of you—Max Verstappen, your teammate and long-time rival. P2 is your current position, but your sights are set on P1.

"You're in P2, but you have the pace to overtake Max," your race engineer's voice crackles over the team radio. "You've got the green light to go for it."

Your heart pounds with adrenaline as you push your car to its limits, each lap bringing you closer to Max. The rivalry that began in karting has only intensified over the years, now culminating in the highest echelon of motorsport. Every manoeuvre, every turn, every fraction of a second matters.

With ten laps to go, you see your opportunity. Max goes slightly wide on Turn 10, creating a narrow window. You dive to the inside, your car edging ahead. For a moment, your wheels are side by side, but your determination prevails, and you take the lead.

"Nice move! You're P1," your engineer's voice fills your helmet, but the thrill of victory is short-lived. You know Max won't let this stand.

Max is relentless, his car looming in your mirrors, his aggression unmistakable. The final laps are a blur of speed, your entire focus on keeping him behind you. The finish line draws closer, the tension mounting with every turn.

As you enter the last lap, Max makes his move. He darts to the inside on the main straight, attempting a dangerous overtake. You defend your position, but it's too late. Max's car makes contact with yours, the impact sending you spinning towards the barriers.

Time slows as you collide with the barriers, the force of the crash rattling your entire body. You see Max's car careening into the opposite barriers, both of your races ending in a cloud of debris and shattered carbon fibre.

Your car comes to a halt, the world outside a chaotic blur. You hear the crackling of the radio, your engineer's voice filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you manage to reply, your body aching and breathing heavy. "What about Max?"

"He's out of the car. Medics are on the way."

Relief mixes with anger and frustration. The crash was reckless, unnecessary. You unbuckle and climb out of the car, the lights and noise of the circuit overwhelming. Marshals and the medical team rush to your side, but your eyes are fixed on Max, who’s already out of his car, looking livid.

After the medics check you over, you approach Max, your temper flaring. "What the hell was that?" you shout, ignoring the pain.

Max glares at you, his face flushed with anger. "Me? You closed the door on me! What did you expect?"

"You were too aggressive! That was a stupid move, and you know it," you retort, stepping closer.

The team intervenes, trying to keep you both apart, but the damage is done. The frustration and years of rivalry boil over in a heated exchange of accusations and blame.

"Maybe if you learned to race properly, this wouldn't have happened," Max snaps, his eyes blazing.

"Race properly? Coming from you? That's rich," you fire back, your voice trembling with fury.

The team members looked on in dismay, torn between loyalty to their drivers and the desire to maintain peace within the team. Both drivers’ eyes burning against the other. Team principal Christian Horner stepped forward, his expression grave as he addressed the warring drivers.

“Enough,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “We’re a team, and we need to act like one. This blame game isn’t getting us anywhere.” He looked at the pair. “You’re both brilliant drivers, and we are glad to have you on the team. But this is getting old.”

As you stormed off in opposite directions, your relationship strained to the breaking point, leaving your teammates to pick up the pieces and salvage what they could of their championship hopes.

After the first race of the season, Christian realised that the rift between you and Max needed to be solved. You and Max were summoned to the office, each unaware of the other's presence. Christian had emphasized that this meeting was crucial and could not be missed. As you both approached the office, neither of you spotted the other, freezing at the sight of each other. Quickly breaking out of the initial shock, you gently pushed past Max to open the door.

“Excuse me!” He exclaimed, holding his arms out.

“Excuse me!” You childishly mocked, making your voice scratchy and reminiscent of a witch's. You smirked to yourself as you dropped carelessly into the seat on the left side of Christian’s desk. Looking up at him, you saw him rubbing his brow bone in annoyance.

“Enough is enough,” he declared, his voice firm after Max sat down. “The constant bickering and clashes between you two are threatening the harmony of the team. We can’t afford to let personal animosities interfere with our performance on the track.” He glanced between the two of you. “You’re both twenty-five for god's sake!”

You attempted to speak, realizing your twenty-fifth birthday was approaching in a few months, but Christian interrupted, “Not now, y/n.” You looked down, pushing your lips out awkwardly. “You don’t need to be so pedantic all the time.” Max took the initiative to remain silent.

“If you two can’t find a way to resolve your differences and work together as teammates, then I’m afraid we will have no choice but to consider other options.” Max was looking around the room, while you were picking at your nails. “Do you have any idea how many people dream of being in your positions? You’re acting like children.” His voice grew louder, and his face redder.

The sobering thought of being easily replaced in a championship-winning team weighed heavily.

Christian leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “I have come to the conclusion that for the two of you to get along better, you need to spend more time together.” This sparked outrage between the two of you. “Calm down!” Christian raised his hands. “It’s only during races. As for hotel situations, you two will be sharing a room.”

“What?”

“So, we get no privacy?”

Christian rolled his eyes. He could sense the tension was still high, even see it. Rolling his eyes, he finalized his statement, “All of the plans will be made for next season. So, enjoy the free time until then. Maybe get to know each other more.” You and Max rolled your eyes in sync, crossing your arms. Christian looked at the pair of you, incredulously.

“I’ll see the pair of you soon.” He waved his hands, silently motioning you out of his office. Walking to the door with you, he paused as the pair of you were about to exit his office. “Just be happy we didn’t choose the other option.”

“What’s that?” You turned, standing between the two men.

“Dating for a PR stunt, regardless of what you had to say.” He closed the door in your face.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

Taglist:@luvsforme @glitterquadricorn @santiiagopopegarcia

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[cheriladycl01]

hey babe!

may I request AM!Seb X RB!driver!reader where she's like a female version of what he was when he drove for RB? Like, cocky, competitive and young, where she's basically him paying for his sins lmao

thanks <333

I see my reflection in your eyes - Sebastian Vettel x RedBullDriver! Reader

Plot: Cocky Young Red Bull Driver looks good when your in a team with Max Verstappen. She’s a menace on track and Sebastian feels as though he needs to put her in her place.

Warnings: SMUT. Car sex. Angst. Sexism (in the MS industry) etc. MINORS DNI 18+

A/N: Thank you for the request, my fav reader!

Credit to violetvettel for the GIF

You and Max were exceptional team-mate since you'd been promoted to Red Bull in 2021 but you'd became more of a menace on track than when you were a part of AlphaTauri.

Even though it wasn't a championship winning car, every week you were driving it like one. In your season prior to your promotion. You hadn't finished outside the points, had no DNF's a few podiums and even a race win.

Horner came to you during the summer break proposing to switch you out for Albon. Of course you immediately agreed. Max was the same age as you so you were actually already pretty close, you were always found causing mayhem around the paddock despite being in different teams right now.

Obviously once you came into RedBull the car just suited your driving style so well, and you adapted much quicker than Pierre and Alex had and on your first race in 2021 you'd set pole position. You and Max had locked out the front row and you were buzzing with energy. This could be the year you win the constructors.

However, the first race was a shame in Bahrain, Lewis had collided with you into Turn 5. Lewis ended up winning, Max in P2 and Valtteri in P3. It was supposed to be your podium ... but it didn't matter too much.

The season wasn't just a Max and Lewis battle, but you were up there as well. A real challenge for Max and you were confident.

Who wouldn't be ... first female race winner in F1 and at one point in the season you were Championship Leader?

And Sebastian always was irked by this. Because you reminded him so much of himself in his RedBull days. He was cocky, arrogant and if he was being honest with himself a bit of a prick and he could see that with you.

He didn't know if it was the more you hung out with Max or if it was just the ego getting bigger and bigger but he remembered you as a sweet little rookie... freshly out of F2 and were nervous any time you got in the car.

But now he looked at you and all he could see what the smirk... that sexy sexy smirk.

But now you were sat in a drivers conference talking about the upcoming race and problems from the last one.

The last race was Monaco and you'd podiumed with Lando and Max and it was an incredible feeling. The three of you had spent the night partying in Monte Carlo casino and the pictures were in the tabloids the next day.

The next race was Azerbaijan and towards the last few laps it was you battling it out with Sebastian. Your car wasn't at peak performance as you hadn't done well in qually. But you managed to keep it up and came through with your second win of the season thus putting you up as current championship winner. Considering all the other podiums you'd had.

The feeling of stepping out the car was incredible. The fist pump in the air, your hair caked in champagne and sweat on the podium. It was an incredible feeling.

"So comments on those last few laps, Sebastian!" an interviewer asks.

"I mean it was ridiculous i don't understand how personalities weren't awarded ..." he frowns looking over at you smiling and giggling with Lando who was, along with Max a best friend of yours on the grid.

"Please elaborate!" he asks.

"Track limits, driving dangerously ... do i need to go on!" he laughs making you turn you head to him and scoff.

"I hope you aren't talking about me" you ask looking over at him and the other drivers go silent. You are now sat back with your arms crossed and a frown on your face as you look down at him in front of you.

"Of course I'm talking about you" he grits out and you just smile at him.

"Calm down, lets not get your panties in a twist!" you mumble so only Lando and Max either side of you can and they try to hide their laughs from you.

"What was that?" he asks twisting round fully to look at you now.

"Nothing, nothing. I think just don't comment on my driving abilities when I defended from you for the last 15 laps ... pretty well" you smirk looking down at him.

He just tuts turning back round making you shake your head and sigh as the interviewer looks to you to direct his next question.

"Y/N how does it feel as a woman to have all these world champions behind you after today?" he asks and you cock your head at him in surprise.

"Re-word that..." you smile at him, and he looks just as confused as you did.

"Sorry?" he asks and everyone around looks towards you.

"All you needed to ask was who it feels to have all these world champs behind me, my gender adds nothing to the question specifically ... if you wanted to ask me about my first race win as the only woman to win an F1 race ... that different" you smile and the interviewer coughs awkwardly at the same time as you PR manager shakes her head at you to stop.

"But to answer, i had the upgrades in the car. I was determined i had a good start and the race went my way today... and I think that's all that really matters..." you smile.

After the meeting, all it took was for you to be stood outside the McLaren hospitality next to Lando and Daniel, laughing with the pair of them for Sebastian to come forward looking at you with his hands on his hips.

"You, come with me!" he exclaims grabbing your wrist making you follow him.

"What the fuck! Seb, let me go!" you say as he pulls you out of the race track paddock entrance and to where his blacked out Aston Martin was.

"Let me go!" you tug on the tight grip on your wrist.

"Just stop! What happened to the sweet girl i first met here, you are ruthless, cocky and rude now! I don't like it!" he exclaims looking over you with a frown on his face.

"I've matured Seb, I'm not the same 21 year old i was when i first came here and first met you. Stop treating me like this little girl ... I'm done being nice and friendly ... i didn't get my way that way. Just deal with it!" you say throwing your hands up in exasperation.

"Matured, yeah right? You were arguing with me in there like a spoilt little brat!" he says, his eyes were so angry right now that you actually had to take a step back.

"Seb, deal with it!" you frown, stepping away and going to turn around.

"Get in the car Y/N!" he says opening the passenger side door.

"Why should i!" you ask not facing him to give him the satisfaction that you are fully listening to him.

"Because, I want to talk ... just us two!" he says his features fully softening, your brain was melting.

It couldn't work out if he was mocking you, or if he was genuinely being sweet. You stand there, now turned back around just watching his face as he stands there holding his passenger side door open.

"Argh fine!" you cry throwing your hands up. You were part of the Ferrari Driver Development Programme when you were 21 in F2 and Sebastian was a really important part of that development and the push you needed to get into F1. He was 31 and you saw him as a friendly mentor back then.

But the way he treated you, you'd developed a crush on him and you just knew it was wrong. A 10 year age gap that you knew the media would see as an abuse of power if anything was to ever happen between the two of you.

So you started to repress those feelings. You hung out more with Charles who joined you in your rookie season starting in 2018. Then when Lando joined there was more people your age on the grid. Even though Max was 26, he acted much older thanks to the early age he had started driving at which did lead you more to Charles and Lando. But where Charles was, Seb also was.

A few season's later and you were being promoted to Red Bull.

Seb drove you all the way to a quiet and coastal part of Baku, no-one was around.

"You embarrassed me today..." he sighs looking over at you as he pulled the handbrake up so you guys were stopped.

"Oh big whoop... all the other drivers do it and they don't get shit for it!" you complain crossing your arms over you chest and leaning back in the chair to get comfortable. You could tell you were going to be here for a while and you were in the middle of city you didn't know in a pretty quiet place and you didn't want to risk your chances of getting out and getting more lost.

"You've never done that before. Why today?" he asks looking over you.

"BECAUSE!" you shout spinning round to look at him, tears brimming in your eyes.

"I never ever thought you'd comment on my driving in a bad way when it wasn't ... that was my best race to date! I went from P12, all the way up to P1. I had to fight you for the last few laps and I was getting tired. I'm current championship leader and you didn't even acknowledge me on the podium or in the cool down room. You didn't say well done or congrats ... you didn't even look at me so how was i supposed to react when the first thing i can here about my performance from my old mentor is that it was dangerous. I shouldn't have the win and i should have had a penalty for defending from you? I worked my ass of for that P1 Seb and you know it, just because your getting old and the sport is changing so the grid isn't your fucking rich boys club anymore doesn't mean you get to see on me!" you scream the whole time, your throat scratchy once you take a breath and trying to get the tears under control.

"You think I'm old huh?" he asks and your gaze snaps over to him.

"Is that the only thing you got from that whole interaction?" you say with an exhausted sigh, from constantly fighting and you were getting to the point where you were so done.

"Well, you seem annoyed that this ... old man is giving you a run for you money!" he says and you look over at him.

"I'm leaving" you say going to open the door but he stops you.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry look I just ... it's hard getting used to all ... this!" he says looking you up and down, making you cock your head to the side.

"That doesn't give you the right to treat me the way you did today. You embarrassed me too" you say softly.

"Then, let me show you I'm sorry. Because I am" he sighs pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

"W- Seb what are you doing?" you ask looking at him. You eyes widened and he couldn't help but smile. You had these walls up for the past few years, creating this sharp and unapproachable look in your eyes, almost like a viscous cat, but now your eyes were wide and doe like, the way they used to be before Red Bull.

"I've waited too many years for this moment, and I know you have too" he smiles, coming closer to you leaning over the centre of the car.

"I- no i" you try say but a blush covers your face proving to him you really didn't.

"Just shut up" he laughs before pulling you in and kissing you. He tilted your head to the side to get closer to you, and you let him. This was a moment you'd dreamt of for far too long.

You pull back, taking your seat belt off and climbing over to the drivers side to straddle across him.

"If we're doing this ... It cant be a one time thing" you say holding both sides of his cheeks.

"You've always had all the power here sweetheart. It's your move, whatever we do. But I'll be here whatever that is. I promise you! I really care for you, I -" he smiles up at you and you nod. Looking over him once more before making your decision and pulling him back in for a kiss, his hands find there way to your hips pulling you down onto him a little more making you feel everything he had to offer.

"Seb, fuck you!" you laugh as you pull back.

"That was the plan" he smirks looking up at you.

"No, I don't think you've understood how long I've liked you for but we couldn't ... we shouldn't be doing this. If people found out" you said looking at him.

"I'm about to tell you something that doesn't leave this car. 2022 will be my last year driving. If you can wait for me, once I've retired this..." he gestures between the two of you. "Can be something more. But for now, our little secret?" he smiles and you nod feverishly.

Maybe you were still on the post win high, or Seb admitting he liked you as much as you did, not with words but you could just tell from the last 20 minute conversation, but you would do anything this man told you to do right now.

"I'll wait for you, but right now i need you Seb!" you breathed looking over him and his hands find their way up to the back of your neck and pulling you closer to him.

You hands are going anywhere they can, his neck, his biceps, his shoulders, his chest under his team top.

They ventured down starting to palm him through the joggers he'd worn to the track. Groans came out of his mouth that had your mind spinning at the thought that this was actually happening.

You were with Sebastian Vettel.

You couldn't even comprehend this right now.

His fingers found there way under the skirt you were wearing and into your underwear where he started to circle your clit. Your head immediately fell into his neck at the feeling trying to muffle your moans.

"Fuck Seb, please" you cry into his shoulder as you start to move your hips to get more friction.

"What sweetheart. You need to tell me what you want. Communication ... I know you aren't good at that but you gotta try for me babygirl" he says and if he wasn't making you feel like a melted puddle of water right now you would have slapped him for that comment, even though he was so right.

He enters too fingers starting at a slow place to open you up and gradually speeds up, meeting your pathetic bounces as he holds his free arm around your back.

"I need more, Seb i need you!" you say, reaching down into his loose pants to feel just how hard he'd gotten.

"Fuck baby, just like that!" he says, his hand comes down to the side of the seat to recline it a little seeing how cramped you were at the your back was close to hitting the horn. He leant fully back, taking his fingers out of you, a groan of complaint at the loss of feeling.

"Go on baby" he says, sucking his fingers off, cleaning what was there from you before reclining himself back onto the seat his arms behind his head as he waited for you.

You pulled down his joggers and pants, his dick having been straining against them the entire time.

You move yourself up, pulling your panties to the side your arms coming either side of his head on the chair as you sunk down onto him.

"Fuck" you breathed as the sting from the stretch had you biting your lip.

"You got this sweetheart, just a little more" he smiles, his arms coming down from behind his head to settle on your hips to help you lower yourself smoothly onto him.

He was on cloud nine right now, he'd always liked you and now having you here was like a treat he'd never had before but became addicted to on the first taste.

You clamped around him at the feeling which released a whiny groan from the man below you. Once you'd bottomed out, you sat there for a little, letting yourself adjust.

"Who knew, I'd win and this is my celebration" you joke looking down at him, and he just laughs back.

"I can tell you, my intention wasn't to have sex in my car with you, I just wanted to apologize. But i cant help myself when it comes to you" he groans as you start to move a little bit.

"I never thought-" you moan in between kisses with him. "I'd have this" you say as you start to move up and down a little quicker. He starts to help you moving you up and down on him with his hands but his hands were starting to shake from the sheer amount of pleasure he was experiencing.

"I don't ever want this to end" he says as he starts to run your clit, feeling himself get embarrassingly close as quickly as he was from how you were clenching around him.

"It doesn't have too!" you smile, pulling him into a kiss.

He starts to thrust up into you, his movements from his hands getting quicker as your bounces managed to keep up. Beauty of being an athlete and having insane stamina.

You both come to your highs at the same time, you fall onto him your head going into his neck and his arms wrap around you to hold you too him so you couldn't go anywhere.

He didn't want you to.

"So... am I still a rude prick?" you ask smiling at him.

"Yeah, but i guess we can say your my rude prick. I'll keep you in line don't worry" he smirks and his words made you nod and blush, before placing another light, yet sweet kiss on his lips, making him sigh happily.

Taglist:

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[eveninggstar]

teammates and tensions ⊹ ࣪ ˖

Miami Magic

max verstappen x RedBullDriver!reader

21.06.24

୨ৎ back a page ୨ৎ back two pages ୨ৎ back three pages

୨ৎ From the age of 9, you and Max Verstappen have been locked in fierce competition on the racing track. Growing up, you intimately learned each other’s techniques, paving the way for what could have been a formidable partnership. However, despite your shared prowess, there’s one glaring issue - an unyielding disdain for each other. As you navigate the world of motorsport, your rivalry intensifies, fuelling both your desire for victory and your deep-seated animosity towards one another.

warnings in masterlist

!fem receiving oral (my first time writing srry if its bad)

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The Miami race had been nothing short of exhilarating. The humid Florida air, the buzzing crowd, and the pressure of the race all contributed to a spectacle that would be remembered for a long time. After a string of frustrating races, both you and Max had managed to secure a podium finish, with you taking P3 and Max finishing P2. The joy of finally getting a good result was palpable, and the team was ecstatic. To top it all off, Lando had taken the win.

As the sun began to set, the paddock was alive with celebrations. The champagne had flowed freely on the podium, and the drivers were ready to continue the party into the night. Miami, known for its vibrant nightlife, was the perfect setting for the team to let loose and celebrate the successful race.

The group had reserved a VIP section at one of Miami’s most exclusive nightclubs. The music was loud, the lights were flashing, and the atmosphere was electric. You arrived with the team, feeling a sense of accomplishment and relief. For the first time in a long while, you could genuinely enjoy the moment.

Lando was the star of the night, basking in the glory of his victory. The drivers gathered around him, cheering and raising their glasses in his honor. You and Max stood nearby, laughing and sharing in the excitement. The tension that had been brewing between the two of you seemed to dissolve in the euphoria of the moment.

As the night progressed, the drinks flowed freely. You found yourself loosening up, the stress of the season melting away with each sip. Max was right there with you, his arm casually draped over your shoulders. It was a gesture that felt surprisingly natural, and you found yourself leaning into him, giggling at his jokes and enjoying the closeness.

The club was packed with people, the dance floor a swirling mass of bodies moving to the beat of the music. You and Max found a spot at the bar, ordering another round of drinks. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke.

“Can you believe we finally did it?” Max said, his voice barely audible over the music, his voice accompanied with the obvious slur.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the alcohol. “Yeaaaaaah!” You dragged out, practically yelling in Max's face.

He laughed, a sound that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “And Lando, of all people. Who would have thought?”

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. “He deserved it.”

Max’s arm tightened around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. “Yeah, but we’re a good team.” The first time he said anything involving him and you as a collective.

The closeness was intoxicating. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, his arm a comforting weight across your shoulders. You found yourself giggling into his shoulder, the alcohol and the joy of the night making you feel light and carefree.

The night continued in a blur of laughter and music. You and Max were inseparable, whispering into each other’s ears and laughing like old friends. The rest of the team was too busy celebrating to notice the way Max’s hand lingered on your waist, or the way you leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder.

At some point, Lando found his way over to you two, his face flushed with excitement and alcohol. “Hey, you two! Having a good time?” he shouted, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes flickered in shock at the unusual closeness between the two of you

You and Max exchanged a glance, both of you smiling broadly. “The best,” you replied, raising your glass in a toast. “To Lando, the man of the hour!”

Lando laughed, clinking his glass against yours. “Thanks!”

The three of you shared a moment of camaraderie before Lando was pulled away by another group of well-wishers. You turned back to Max, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. The music, the lights, the laughter—it was all perfect.

As the night wore on, the club became a haze of lights and music. You lost track of how many drinks you’d had, but it didn’t matter. The important thing was that you were here, celebrating with the team, with Max by your side.

At some point, you found yourself on the dance floor with Max, the two of you moving to the rhythm of the music. His hands were on your hips, guiding you, and you could feel his breath on your neck as he whispered something you couldn’t quite make out. You laughed, the sound getting lost in the music, and turned to face him.

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The noise, the lights, the people—they all disappeared, leaving just the two of you. You could see the same realization in his eyes, a connection that went beyond words.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss. It was soft, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you. Max responded immediately, his arms tightening around you as he deepened the kiss.

The world came rushing back, but it felt different now. More intense, more real. The kiss broke, but the connection between you didn’t. Max’s forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, his voice low and filled with promise.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. The night was far from over, and you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

You left the club together, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the heat inside. The team’s hotel was just a short walk away, and the two of you made your way there in comfortable silence. The city lights glittered around you, adding to the surreal feeling of the night.

At the hotel, you took the elevator up to your floor. The tension between you was palpable, a current of electricity that had been building all night. As soon as the doors closed, Max pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply. You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer.

The elevator dinged, signalling your arrival. You broke apart, both of you breathing heavily, and stumbled out into the hallway. Max led you to his room, fumbling with the key card in his haste. Finally, the door opened, and you slipped inside, the anticipation almost too much to bear.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Max was on you again, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. You melted into him, your body responding to his touch as if it had been waiting for this moment forever. His hands roamed your body, exploring, caressing, driving you wild.

You pulled back just long enough to catch your breath, your eyes meeting his. The desire in his gaze was mirrored in your own, and it took your breath away. Max’s nose trailed your jaw, causing you to let out a small giggle.

“Please,” he whispered into your ear, a smirk evident in his tone. To call his voice a whisper would be an exaggeration; he was so quiet that if he had been anywhere other than right by your jaw, you wouldn’t have heard him. His voice caused a trail of goosebumps to appear all over your body. You were practically a puddle at his feet.

You softly directed him to look at you, meeting his eyes. “Go ahead.” A dazzling smile painted your lips. He wasted no time sinking his hand into your hair and crushing his lips onto yours. His free hand rubbed in circular motions across your back, then down to your waist, then gripped repeatedly at your ass. Your moans were muffled by his tongue-thankfully.

Max was everywhere, but nowhere you truly wanted him. To hold your pride, you couldn’t beg for him to touch you more. You were only left to hold onto him and take it. His mouth travelled to nip at your neck, leaving you to moan in response.

He sank to his knees, pushing up his shirt sleeves and undoing the third button. His hair was pointing in all different directions due to your earlier motions. He looked up at you, cheeks flushed and chest erratically breathing. He brought his hands up to grip your thighs, tightening and releasing repeatedly. He stayed silent, yours and his breath filling the silence.

“What’s wrong? Want a map?” you joked, tilting your head to the side, still unable to hold back a slight jab.

“Just making sure you’re alright,” he kissed the inside of your mid-thigh. His face morphed into a smirk at the realization on yours.

You nodded, still unsure why. It was Max. Max Verstappen. Your teammate, that you hated with every fibre of your body. You shouldn’t be doing this. And you definitely shouldn’t enjoy the feeling of his kisses running up your thigh.

He was doing it on purpose, making you wait. He knew exactly what he was doing, so swallowing your pride you—

“Oh my god!” He interrupted your train of thought with his tongue between your folds, circling your clit with intention. His shoulders shook as he laughed at your reaction. In retaliation, you gripped his hair with the thought of shutting him up, but instead earned a moan from him—at least he stopped laughing.

Your body was slipping downwards, resulting in Max smoothing his hands up your legs and gripping your ass. The mixed pleasure of the pressure he had on your ass matched with the sucking of your clit in his mouth made you feel as if you were floating.

The butterflies in your stomach were multiplying.

One of his hands slithered its way to join his tongue. As two of his fingers sunk into you, your whimpers turned into a high-pitched moan. You looked down to see Max’s piercing blue eyes watching your every move.

The pace of his tongue and fingers increased, and in return, your grip on his hair tightened. The butterflies were becoming more of a knot within your stomach as Max continued. You kept repeating his name, whether it be loud or quiet, neither of you cared.

The knot was tighter. Your hips were moving to meet Max’s movements, just wanting to come. Luckily, your wishes were close.

You didn’t even get the words out as you screamed in pleasure. Your body felt numb as you could feel your walls involuntarily tighten around Max’s fingers.

The last thing you remembered was panting erratically and the empty feeling left as Max removed his fingers and tongue from you. And then him softly speaking in your ear, but not the words, as he coaxed you towards his bed. You could recognize the feeling of your dress being slipped off of you, then replaced with an oversized shirt that smelled like the best thing you’ve ever encountered. Thankfully, the feeling of your bra had been removed, then retreating footsteps.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

Taglist:@luvsforme @glitterquadricorn @santiiagopopegarcia

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[eveninggstar]

did i just finish writing the non smut part of the next chapter of teammates and tensions?

yes.

did i lay it all out, put it together seamlessly (i hope)?

yes.

did i add in add the graphics and titles or whatever?

yes.

did my wifi decide to go down so now i have no idea if it saved as a draft because i made changes as i was going through it before posting?

YES😭😭😭

i’ve tried posting and saving to drafts ;(

[eveninggstar]

when’s the next chapter of tensions and teammates coming out? i just started it today and couldn’t help but finish it in one sitting. it was so amazing and well written!!! 🥰✨🫶

omg ty :))))) i’m glad you’re enjoy it but the next chapter will come out (hopefully) in the next two or three days

so either

today, tomorrow, or the day after

it a really good chapter set in miami with lando’s win btw and i’ve written the end part of it that contains something👀 no spoilers tho

much love😚😚😚

[eveninggstar]

ngl now that i’ve gone into act two of teammates and tensions (i’ve not written the next chapter don’t get too excited) im thinking of rewriting it bc i want there to be more tension as it’s literally in the name and i feel like as if it lacks rapidly and that the character i made is incredibly to dimensional so i maaaaaay rewrite it.

this came from me writing a carlos smut i had half written since imola and i saw that god send of a moustache on his face so i might make it better

okay i will so re read it if you want ig when it’s done

[eveninggstar]

i wrote the next chapter of teammates and tensions btw but it’s 12:57 am and i cba to get the graffics on it so wait until idk 12 pm 🤷‍♀️

[eveninggstar]

middle one is my bias rn ngl but i can’t choose

[eveninggstar]

teammates and tensions ⊹ ࣪ ˖

Bittersweet Betrayal

max verstappen x redbulldriver!reader

08.07.24

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୨ৎ From the age of 9, you and Max Verstappen have been locked in fierce competition on the racing track. Growing up, you intimately learned each other’s techniques, paving the way for what could have been a formidable partnership. However, despite your shared prowess, there’s one glaring issue - an unyielding disdain for each other. As you navigate the world of motorsport, your rivalry intensifies, fuelling both your desire for victory and your deep-seated animosity towards one another.

warnings in masterlist

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The anticipation for the final race of the season was palpable. The paddock was buzzing with excitement and tension as this race would determine the World Drivers Championship. Max was in the lead, but you were right behind him, a close second. Every free practice, sprint, and qualifying session had seen you at the top, P1. The stakes were high, and all you needed was this win to be awarded the title.

In the garage, the atmosphere was intense, but you and Max found a moment to relax and enjoy each other’s company. You were sat on a bench, scrolling through your phones and sharing funny pictures.

“Look at this one,” Max said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He handed you his phone, displaying a meme that made you burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” your mouth dropped open, still chuckling. “Wait, look at this.” You showed him a photo on your phone, and Max’s laughter echoed yours.

For a few minutes, it felt easy. The tension and rivalry between you faded away, replaced by the camaraderie you both cherished. However, as the conversation shifted back to the race, reality began to sink in.

“We’ve got this,” your engineer’s voice crackled over the radio during the final practice session. “You’ve been P1 in every session. Just keep it up, and the championship is yours.”

“I’ve got it,” you replied with determination. “I can win this.”

Meanwhile, Max was having a different conversation. Christian Horner and his engineer were discussing strategies.

“We need to ensure Max wins this race,” Christian said firmly. “He’s leading the championship, and we can’t take any risks.”

Max nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation but feeling a pang of guilt. He knew you were just as deserving of the title, but if you had agreed to it then it shouldn’t be so bad.

As the race day arrived, the tension was at an all-time high. The grandstands were packed with fans, and the energy was electric. You lined up on the grid, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. Max was beside you, giving you a reassuring nod.

The lights went out, and the race began. You quickly took the lead, setting a blistering pace. Lap after lap, you maintained your position, extending your lead over Max and the other drivers. The car felt perfect, and you were in the zone.

“Keep it up, you’re doing great,” your engineer encouraged over the radio. “We have this in the bag.”

“Copy that,” you replied, focused on the track ahead.

Meanwhile, only meters away, Christian and Max’s engineer were strategizing.

“We need to find a way to bypass her,” Christian said. “Max has to win.”

Max’s engineer relayed the instructions, trying to find ways to close the gap. But you were rapid, executing every corner flawlessly. As the race progressed, you built a 20-second lead over Max.

With only a few laps remaining, you started to feel the pressure. Your mind raced with thoughts of winning the championship. But then, on the second-to-last lap, you heard a message that made your heart sink.

“Let Max catch up and let him pass,” your engineer instructed.

“What?” you exclaimed, your voice cracking. “I can win this. I’m 20 seconds ahead!”

“Team orders,” your engineer replied. “Let Max pass.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to keep your composure. “Please, I can win this. Don’t make me do this.”

The silence on the radio was deafening. You knew you had no choice but to obey. Reluctantly, you slowed down, allowing Max to close the gap. He passed you on the final lap, taking the lead.

Crossing the finish line in second place felt like a punch to the gut, a punch saying you might as well just DNF’ed. You pulled into the pits, ripped off your helmet, and marched away, tears threatening to stream down your face. You couldn’t bear to look at Max or anyone else celebrating his win.

During the Dutch national anthem, you stood on the podium, the damn finally breaking. You tried to hold it together, but the overwhelming disappointment was too much. Max, unaware of the behind-the-scenes decisions, thought you knew about the team’s strategy and didn’t see anything wrong with what had happened.

After the podium ceremony, the team gathered for a photo to celebrate winning the Constructors’ Championship and Max’s World Drivers’ Championship title. But you were nowhere to be seen. Instead, you were in your driver’s room, sobbing uncontrollably.

The interviews followed, and Max faced a relentless reporter who pressured him into criticizing your performance.

“Do you think your teammate did a bad job today?” the reporter asked, pushing for a controversial response.

Max, already on edge, snapped. “Yes, I agree,” he said angrily. “She could have done better.” He rolled his eyes and was about to say the complete opposite.

Unbeknownst to Max, you were walking by at that very moment. His words hit you like a dagger to the heart. You turned away, tears welling up again, and headed back to your room.

By the time Max returned to the hotel, you were already gone. You had packed your things and left for home. Max felt a pang of sadness but brushed it off, thinking you had some celebrations reserved for you at home.

On the plane back to Monaco, Max replayed clips from the race on his phone. He watched the podium celebration and saw the sadness in your eyes. He heard your begging over the team radio, and the guilt hit him hard. He even saw multiple edits, including his celebrations, that now seemed incredibly boastful and selfish, compared to the breaks of your voice and your melancholy face.

When the plane landed, a celebration was planned in Monaco, but Max didn’t feel like celebrating. Instead, he headed to your apartment, hoping to talk things through.

He knocked on your door, and you answered, your eyes red and puffy from crying. “What do you want, Max?” you asked, your voice filled with bitterness.

“We need to talk,” he said softly. “I didn’t realize—”

You cut him off. “Realize what? That you won the championship because I had to let you pass? That I had to give up my dream for you?” Your voice was shaking with anger and hurt. “I want you to know i might never get that close to winning again. After today i’ll be surprised that my contact isn’t suspended.”

Max tried to respond, but you continued, “We don’t have to share a hotel room anymore. You don’t have to see me outside of work. Just leave me alone.” With that, you slammed the door in his face.

Max stood there, staring at the closed door, overwhelmed with regret. The hurt expression he had seen on your face, the bitterness in your voice, and the sharp words you had thrown at him all reignited the initial animosity he had felt towards you. Despite the camaraderie you had once shared and the mutual respect, a surge of resentment now filled him. He realized, amidst the regret, a foreign feeling rising within him. He wanted to fight against you, to wrest the championship away from you, to take the win for himself. He wanted everything to be in his favour.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

Taglist:@luvsforme @glitterquadricorn @santiiagopopegarcia

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[eveninggstar]

teammates and tensions ⊹ ࣪ ˖

Sofa Salutary

max verstappen x redbulldriver!reader

02.07.24

୨ৎ back a page ୨ৎ back two pages ୨ৎ back three pages

୨ৎ From the age of 9, you and Max Verstappen have been locked in fierce competition on the racing track. Growing up, you intimately learned each other’s techniques, paving the way for what could have been a formidable partnership. However, despite your shared prowess, there’s one glaring issue - an unyielding disdain for each other. As you navigate the world of motorsport, your rivalry intensifies, fuelling both your desire for victory and your deep-seated animosity towards one another.

warnings in masterlist

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After the Miami race and the celebrations, you return home to Monaco, hoping to escape the chaotic whirlwind of the past few days. But as you settle back into your daily routine, everything seems to remind you of Max.

On your morning walk, you spot a Bengal cat lounging in a sunlit window. It immediately brings to mind Max’s affection for his own cats, and you can almost hear his voice telling you stories about them. You shake your head, trying to dispel the thought, but it lingers, frustratingly persistent.

At the grocery store, you see a display of Dutch tulips and think of Max’s Dutch heritage. You move to a different aisle, but when you reach for a carton of milk, you recall Max teasing you about the absurd number of varieties available in Monaco compared to his home in the Netherlands and the grief he gave you for preferring oat milk to regular. Every small thing, every mundane detail of your day seems to have some connection to him.

Even at home, trying to relax with a book, you find yourself distracted. You remember the time Max recommended a novel to you, and now, every story you pick up feels inadequate compared to his suggestion. You close the book with a sigh, tossing it aside.

Why couldn’t you just forget about him? It was one night, one mistake, and now it felt like Max was haunting your every step.

The tension from Miami follows you to the next race weekend. The paddock buzzes with its usual energy, but there’s an added layer of awkwardness hanging over you and Max. You avoid eye contact, keeping conversations strictly professional and brief- not even arguing or sending death glares to the other. The team notices the strain, and it affects everyone’s morale.

During the race, the tension seeps into your performance. You miss cues from your engineer, make small mistakes on track, and your frustration builds with each passing lap. Max, usually sharp and focused, seems off his game as well. The entire weekend is a disaster, culminating in a disappointing finish for both of you.

Back at the hotel gives you a big slap in the face as you were still on the arrangement of sharing this season. You dread the thought of spending any more time in close quarters with Max, but there’s no other option.

You drop your bags in your room and head to the common area, collapsing onto the sofa. A few moments later, Max emerges from his room, looking equally drained. He sits on the opposite end of the sofa, the distance between you feeling both comforting and suffocating.

The silence stretches on, heavy and awkward, filled with the occasional sniff or cough. You glance at Max, noticing the way his fingers drum nervously on his knee. His cheeks are slightly flushed, and you catch yourself finding it cute, which only annoys you more.

“We need to talk about what happened,” Max says finally, breaking the silence.

You nod, trying to find the right words. “Yeah, we do. Miami was… unexpected.”

Max looks down, avoiding your gaze. “It was a mistake, right? We got caught up in the moment.”

“Definitely,” you agree, though part of you isn’t entirely convinced. “We need to figure out how to move past it. It’s affecting our work.”

Max nods, still not meeting your eyes. “Agreed. We can’t let this ruin our careers.”

Another silence falls, and you can feel the tension mounting again. You look at Max, his face now a deeper shade of red. It’s awkward, but there’s something almost endearing about his discomfort.

“I remember when we were kids,” you say suddenly, hoping to lighten the mood. “Racing you to wherever. Like when we had a podium together, you always beat me to it.”

Max finally looks up, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Only because you let me. You were always faster.”

You laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Maybe. But you were always more competitive.”

The conversation shifts to reminiscing about your shared childhood. The karting races, the pranks you pulled on each other, the countless hours spent at the karting track. The more you talk, the more you realize how much you’ve shared over the years.

“Remember that time you convinced me to eat that horrible candy, saying it was the best thing ever?” Max chuckles.

You grin, shaking your head. “You mean the sour ones? I thought you were going to cry!”

Max laughs, and the sound is warm and familiar. “I almost did. You were so convincing.”

As the evening wears on, you both find yourselves relaxing, the awkwardness giving way to a comfortable camaraderie. You talk about your current lives, your racing careers, and the ups and downs you’ve faced.

“We have a lot in common, you know,” Max says thoughtfully. “More than I realized.”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah, we do. And despite everything, I think we’re both pretty funny.”

Max smiles, the tension completely gone now. “We are. Maybe we should focus on that. Being friends, I mean. Supporting each other.”

“Agreed,” you say, feeling a sense of relief. “Let’s put Miami and the entire past behind us and just… be friends.”

Max extends his hand, and you shake it, sealing the agreement. The atmosphere between you feels lighter, more manageable. You spend the rest of the evening chatting and laughing, rediscovering the bond you once never wanted.

As the night draws to a close, you both head to your separate bedrooms. Before you close your door, you turn to Max.

“Thanks for tonight, Max. I think we really needed this.”

He nods, his expression sincere. “We did. Good night.”

“Good night,” you reply, feeling a sense of peace as you close the door.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

Taglist:@luvsforme @glitterquadricorn @santiiagopopegarcia

Taglist Form

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[eveninggstar]

teammates and tensions ⊹ ࣪ ˖

Poor Position

max verstappen x RedBullDriver!reader

17.06.24

୨ৎ back a page ୨ৎ back two pages ୨ৎ back three pages

୨ৎ From the age of 9, you and Max Verstappen have been locked in fierce competition on the racing track. Growing up, you intimately learned each other’s techniques, paving the way for what could have been a formidable partnership. However, despite your shared prowess, there’s one glaring issue - an unyielding disdain for each other. As you navigate the world of motorsport, your rivalry intensifies, fuelling both your desire for victory and your deep-seated animosity towards one another.

warnings in masterlist

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The latest qualifying session had been a disaster. You had struggled with car issues and finished a disappointing P8, while Max managed P5. The atmosphere in the paddock was thick with tension, and it was only a matter of time before the simmering frustration boiled over.

The day of the race started off on a tense note. You and Max were forced into the same media engagements, a cruel twist of fate that neither of you welcomed. The interviews were filled with the usual platitudes, but the underlying irritation was hard to mask.

As you headed back to the garage, you could feel the weight of the day pressing down on you. The team was doing their best to stay optimistic, but the undercurrent of disappointment was palpable.

In the garage, final preparations were underway. Mechanics buzzed around the cars, making last-minute adjustments. You suited up, trying to focus on the race ahead, but the frustration from qualifying still gnawed at you.

Max was already in his car, his jaw set in a hard line. You caught his eye for a brief moment, but neither of you said anything. The silence was louder than words, filled with unspoken accusations and mutual frustration.

The race itself was a nightmare. From the moment the lights went out, it seemed like nothing was going right. You were caught in traffic, battling for position with mid-field drivers while Max struggled to make any headway from P5. Every lap was a grueling fight, and it quickly became clear that today was not going to be a good day for either of you.

About halfway through the race, the tension reached a boiling point. You had just managed to pass Max, a maneuver that had been harder than it should have been due to a slight miscalculation on his part. As you pulled ahead, your engineer’s voice crackled in your ear.

“Good job, keep pushing.”

You barely had time to register the message before Max retaliated, aggressively cutting into your line at the next corner. You had to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision, and the car behind you took advantage, slipping past both of you.

“Damn it, Max!” you shouted even though he wouldn't hear you, but it was too late. The damage was done. You lost another position, and Max wasn’t faring much better. The team’s strategy was unravelling before your eyes.

Back in the garage, the mood was somber. The race had ended in a double points finish, but it felt hollow. You and Max had both finished outside the top five, a far cry from the podium finishes the team had hoped for.

As soon as you climbed out of the car, you ripped off your helmet, frustration boiling over. Max was already there, his own helmet under his arm, looking equally furious.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded, marching over to him. Then shoving your helmet towards his direction in an attempt to wind him.

“What are you talking about?” Max shot back, brows furrowed as he took a step back. “You cut me off!”

“You nearly crashed into me! We’re supposed to be teammates, remember?”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Max sneered. “If you were driving any better, we wouldn’t have been in that position to begin with.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but Christian appeared, stepping between you two. “Enough,” he said sharply. “Both of you, to the debriefing room. Now.” You and Max gave each other a death stare as you walked towards the debrief room.

The debrief was a tense affair. The engineers went over the race data, pointing out the mistakes and missed opportunities. You sat there, arms crossed, glaring at the screen. Max was on the other side of the room, equally sullen.

“Max, your aggression cost us today,” one of the engineers pointed out.

“And you,” he turned to you, “need to be more decisive. That hesitation at Turn 12...”

You clenched your jaw, barely listening. The anger and frustration from the race were still fresh, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all going to come to a head soon.

After the debrief, you found yourself back in the garage, staring at your car. The day had been a disaster, and you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Max was nearby, talking quietly with his race engineer, constantly looking at you then back to the engineer. You heard your name a few times from the Dutchman, causing the irritation to bubble up again.

“Oi,” you said, approaching him. “If you have something to say about me, say it to my face, yeah?” You crossed your arms and put the majority of your weight on one leg.

Max looked at you, his expression unreadable. “Maybe if you weren’t so slow, I wouldn’t have to.”

The comment stung, but you refused to let it show. “Watch yourself.” You pushed all of your weight into him as you walked off, hopefully knocking his balance.

After regaining his footing, he looked at your retreating figure. HIs chest filled with the familiar burn he often had when it came to you.

The drive back home was equally tense. The undercurrent of frustration was impossible to ignore. You and Max sat in silence, the words from earlier still hanging in the air. Miraculously, he had caught up to you before you could drive off.

The argument with Max played on a loop in your head, the anger simmering just below the surface. At every thought of something to say, you instead bit your tongue with being too tired for another argument.

The next few races were a blur of similar frustrations. Qualifying sessions marred by mistakes, races where you and Max seemed to be tripping over each other at every turn. The team was starting to feel the strain, the once-harmonious atmosphere now thick with tension.

You and Max barely spoke outside of the necessary interactions. When you did, it was curt and to the point, the underlying hostility clear. The media had picked up on it too, the stories of a brewing rivalry within the team making headlines.

One particularly bad race day ended with you and Max finishing outside the points. The garage was silent as the team tried to process what had happened. You could feel the frustration building, the anger threatening to spill over.

As you walked past Max’s car, you couldn’t resist a parting shot. “Nice driving, Verstappen. Maybe next time, try not to crash into everyone.”

He looked up, eyes blazing. “At least I’m not the one holding everyone up.”

Before you could retort, Christian appeared again, his expression thunderous. “Enough! Both of you, to my office. Now.”

The meeting was brutal. Christian laid into both of you, his anger palpable. He didn’t mince words, making it clear that this behavior was unacceptable and that it was costing the team dearly.

“You two need to get your act together,” he finished, his voice low and dangerous. “I don’t care how you do it, but this stops now. Understand?” He looked at the pair of you, both having a slightly guilty look on your faces. "You two are incredibly skilled drivers." He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "But I have other drivers who wouldn't mind taking your places. Last warning."

You and Max nodded, both of you too exhausted to argue. The drive back to the hotel was silent, the weight of Christian’s words hanging over you.

That night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The events of the past few races played on a loop in your head, the frustration and anger building with each replay. You knew things couldn’t go on like this, but you had no idea how to fix it. Max just constantly knew ways to get on your nerves. Even thinking of him caused your irritation to brew up, even when he was in his own bed - most likely sleeping on the opposite side of the wall.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

Taglist:@luvsforme @glitterquadricorn @santiiagopopegarcia

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[eveninggstar]

teammates and tensions ⊹ ࣪ ˖

Pitlane Pique-rewrite

max verstappen x RedBullDriver!reader

23.05.24-(rewrite 17.07.24)

୨ৎ back a page ୨ৎ back two pages ୨ৎ back three pages

୨ৎ From the age of 9, you and Max Verstappen have been locked in fierce competition on the racing track. Growing up, you intimately learned each other’s techniques, paving the way for what could have been a formidable partnership. However, despite your shared prowess, there’s one glaring issue - an unyielding disdain for each other. As you navigate the world of motorsport, your rivalry intensifies, fuelling both your desire for victory and your deep-seated animosity towards one another.

warnings in masterlist

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The sun is setting over Jeddah, casting a warm glow over the city as you step off the plane, already buzzing with anticipation for the next race. The incident in Bahrain still lingers in your mind, a mixture of frustration and determination fueling your thoughts. You push it aside as you make your way to the hotel, eager to unwind after the long flight.

After checking in, you head to your room, your luggage feeling heavier with each step. You swipe the key card and push the door open, sighing in relief as the cool air from the air conditioning hits you. Without a second thought, you drop your bags and head straight for the bathroom, craving a hot shower to wash away the travel fatigue.

You strip down and step into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over your body, relaxing your muscles and clearing your mind. For a few blissful moments, you forget about everything – the rivalry, the pressure, the constant scrutiny.

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you step out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed and ready to relax. But as you walk into the main room, you freeze. Max Verstappen is there, shirtless and wearing old basketball shorts, casually scrolling through his phone on the other bed. He looks up, equally surprised to see you.

For a moment, you just stare at each other, the awkwardness and surprise rendering you both speechless. Your eyes travel over his toned torso, the familiarity of his presence stirring a confusing mix of emotions. You catch him doing the same, his gaze lingering on you a bit longer than necessary.

“What are you doing here?” you finally snap, clutching your towel tighter around you.

Max raises an eyebrow, his own annoyance evident despite the lingering heat in his gaze. “I could ask you the same thing. This is my room too, remember?”

You blink, the realization hitting you hard. You had completely forgotten that the team had booked you to share a room to foster team spirit or some other nonsense.

“Great,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “Just what I needed.”

Max stands up, crossing his arms over his chest, the muscles in his shoulders flexing slightly. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do, but we’re stuck with it. Just stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”

You narrow your eyes at him, the anger from Bahrain bubbling back to the surface. “Stay out of your way? You’re the one who crashed into me last race!”

Max’s eyes flash with irritation. “I told you, you closed the door on me. If you had given me more space, we wouldn’t have crashed.”

“You were too aggressive! That was a stupid move, and you know it,” you retort, stepping closer to him without realizing it.

Max steps forward as well, closing the distance between you, his eyes locked on yours. “I was going for the win. Something you clearly don’t understand.”

Your breath catches, both from the anger and the sudden proximity. “I understand perfectly. You’re just too arrogant to admit you were wrong.”

His gaze drops to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “Arrogant? Look who's talking.”

The tension between you is palpable, a mixture of anger and something else you don’t want to acknowledge. You take a step back, breaking the heated stare.

“This isn’t over, Max,” you say, your voice steadier than you feel. “On the track, or here.”

Max watches you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “No, it isn’t.”

With that, you turn and head back to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. Your heart is pounding, a mixture of frustration and something more complicated swirling in your chest.

The cool air from the air conditioning in the hotel room provided a welcome relief from the day's heat in Bahrain. Max and you sat on opposite ends of the room, each lounging on your respective beds. The TV was tuned to a documentary about racing, a choice Max had made without consulting you.

You shifted on the bed, glancing over at Max who seemed entirely engrossed in the documentary. The film explored various aspects of racing techniques, historical moments, and interviews with legendary drivers.

Halfway through, you couldn't help but interject during a segment about driving tactics. "You know, there's a whole section on not driving like a total idiot," you remarked, teasingly nudging Max's competitive streak.

Max smirked, his eyes not leaving the screen to meet yours. "And there's another section on how to win," he shot back, not missing a beat.

You chuckled, knowing full well the documentary was highlighting the very elements both of you were known for - his aggressive driving style and your strategic finesse.

As the documentary continued, you found yourself occasionally making snarky comments about the drivers featured or the historical races showcased. Max would respond with an eye roll or a scoff, but the atmosphere remained light-hearted, a temporary truce in your ongoing competitive relationship.

After a particularly intense segment about a legendary overtaking maneuver, Max leaned back on his bed, arms folded behind his head. "You could learn a thing or two from that move," he teased, smirking.

You rolled your eyes, playfully throwing a pillow in his direction. "Oh please, Max. You make it sound like I'm not holding my own out there."

He shrugged, his smirk widening. "Just saying, it wouldn't hurt to take some notes."

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

Taglist:@luvsforme @glitterquadricorn @santiiagopopegarcia

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[eveninggstar]

teammates and tensions ⊹ ࣪ ˖

max verstappen x RedBullDriver!reader

06.05.24

୨ৎ back two pages ୨ৎ back a page

‘Imagine me, imagine me now’

From the age of 9, you and Max Verstappen have been locked in fierce competition on the racing track. Growing up, you intimately learned each other’s techniques, paving the way for what could have been a formidable partnership. However, despite your shared prowess, there’s one glaring issue - an unyielding disdain for each other. As you navigate the world of motorsport, your rivalry intensifies, fueling both your desire for victory and your deep-seated animosity towards one another.

Warnings: Language, eventual smut, depiction of competitive sports (and some incorrect terminology), emotional conflict

-slow updates

act i

Rekindled Rivalry. 06.05.24 - (rewrite 17.07.24)

Pitlane Pique. 23.05.24 - (rewrite 17.07.24)

Poor Position 17.06.24

Miami Magic 21.06.24

Sofa Salutary 02.07.24

Bittersweet Betrayal. 08.07.24

act ii

chapter ?

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

Taglist:@luvsforme @glitterquadricorn @santiiagopopegarcia

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[cheriladycl01]

Request

Max Verstappen x American Fem Red Bull Driver

Max is in love with her and wants a chance to make her happy, but she can't forget her ex-boyfriend, with whom she has an on-and-off relationship. Her ex-boyfriend is not a total stranger. Joe Burrow, one of the main players of the current generation of American football, in which he plays as quarterback for the Cincinatti Bengals, has known Y/N since childhood, as they are both from the state of Ohio, he is also very passionate about her and tries to make the relationship continue at a distance, as she lives in Monaco. Y/N needs to make a decision about who will occupy the space in her heart. P.S: I don't know anything about American football, but one day a Joe Burrow edit appeared on TikTok and I fell in love with it. This is not to mention anything related to American football, just to mention that Burrow also wants to fight Max for her heart.

Take my heart and do as you want - Max Verstappen x RedBullDriver! Reader x Joe Burrow

Plot: You are a RedBull driver with one of the most notable relationships on the grid due to it's on and off nature. After a really rocky patch, they are currently broken up and she starts to see her team-mate in a different light.

You'd had the best season of your life after being promoted to RedBull. But that came with it being an insanely busy season, more exhausting and more duties to attend to. When you were in the beta RB team it hadn't really mattered as you weren't as admired as a driver on the grid but now being in a top performing team there was definitely more media attention on you.

This really affected your relationship with your now ex-boyfriend Joe Burrow, you'd dated him when you were both in high school and continued that relationship on into your adult lives.

At first when you didn't have the money to move out of state because all your money, and all your parents money went on racing, which wasn't as cheap or easy a career path as it was for Joe getting into Football and being given scholarships for college.

You had to work tooth and nail for your place in the sport. But you and Joe recently had been struggling with, well just being together in general. You'd made the decision to move to Monaco it made sense as a lot of your colleagues and friends resided there and now that you were earning more from being in Red Bull, it meant that you benefited from the tax regime there.

But that move put a massive strain on your relationship with Joe, you'd know each other for years and were childhood sweethearts, so of course you tried long distance.

It was hard because it wasn't just long distance, you both had such busy schedules that finding just time to call each other was unlikely.

Eventually Joe called it quits over the phone, the very next day you crashed out when Charles Leclerc's brakes disconnected and he cut you off going into a turn.

Joe had text you straight away that he was flying out to come and see you and make sure you were okay.

Thus was the start of the post-relationship era into the weird era where nobody not even yourselves knew if you were together or not. You loved each other so much, you were each others first in everything and this is the man you thought you'd end up marrying one day.

To the media, you were in this weird on and off relationship. When your schedules linked up, you were seen together for days on end be that in a random country where you race was, a football stadium in America where you were cheering him on, or in your new home of Monaco. But when you weren't together or close to having to separate you'd be seen arguing and fighting. You'd once even gone as far as to an-add each other on socials when a video came out of Joe in a club where he looked pretty close and cosy with a girl.

You obviously knew you couldn't stop him from seeing other people, that would be insane but you would have liked confirmation that you guys were seeing other people. As that would have been your final straw to cut emotional tie's with Joe.

Joe was special to you, and you thought he always would be. There was part of you that would always love him, and there was part of him that would always love you. But it was hard to ever let go of that which is where this vicious back and forth cycle came from.

However, the most recent time you'd been in one of your off periods your team-mate Max who you'd known also from childhood, not as early on as Joe but from about age 13 when you were doing Karting had started acting differently towards you.

"Hey Y/N, I saw these and remembered you like them" he said on the first occasion handing you a box of chocolates that you only really would treat yourself to around Christmas.

"Hey Y/N, I brought you this last weekend because you won!" he exclaimed handing you a little Monaco flag on a keychain because you won your race there.

"Hey Y/N! Marko said you needed a drink, so i brought you that Gauva juice your trainer makes for you" he smiled handing you the glass while you were sat in the Red Bull hospitality watching your on board from FP1.

And it continued, random little acts and gifts. Max had always been rather affectionate to you even before you were team-mates, sending you small compliments and making extra efforts when he pulled your name out for secret Santa.

You also started to notice his sourness whenever Joe was around particularly when you guys were racing on home turf where all of your friends came from.

"Joe baby, can you grab my helmet for me?" you asked him politely as you struggled getting all your wispy bits of hair tucked fully into your balaclava. However, he was scrolling on his phone, not listening to the request at hand.

"Here you go, at least I listen... unlike some of us" Max frowned looking directly at Joe to see even if that would get a reaction form him, which it did.

"Oh I'm sorry love. It's so loud in these garages! Here let me put it on for you. You know I like doing that!" he smiles at you placing his phone in his pocket and looking towards you.

"Thank you for grabbing it Max!" you smile at your team-mate before handing it to Joe. He makes sure your braid is in the best position before slipping it onto your head and kissing the top of you helmet. He kept looking over at Max the whole time.

He'd always been a little suspicious of Max's intentions towards his girlfriend, even before the move to become his team-mate and now that they shared a garage it was ten times worse.

He was constantly worried he was loosing you and the more you focused on your sport the more you would be prey to Max's advances and he'd win you over which Joe didn't want at all.

Joe loved you and he always would which is what hurt so much about the distance created between you two.

"Good luck in the race baby. i love you so much and your gonna do great!" he smiles down at you.

You give him a hug before running off to the garage where they would roll your car out onto track ahead of the formation lap.

You won that race, you and Max had a tense race constantly taking over one another while defending together from Lando who was in P3 until the last two laps where you got the upper hand and pushed in front despite being on the older tires.

Come the next race weekend you and Joe had probably had one of your most spiteful arguments to date.

"No, because why is it always me making the travel?" he had asked you.

"Because you play in just America baby. I drive round the world and it fucks me up with all the time difference changes espeically if I'm doing the Middle East back to you or Australia back to you" you try to explain but you could tell he was getting more frustrated with everything yoy said.

"Look, I love you, and you know I do. But right now I feel like I'm the only one making the effort!" he sighs rubbing his head.

"How can you say that?" you gasped in horror thinking of all the things you had sacrificed to try and make this work.

"It's always me coming to see you, you're never home anymore. I see your parents more than you do. All our friends miss you but your out here playing happy driver?" he chides throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"You know The States haven't been my home in a while Joe. How dare you fucking say this when you're the one who gave up on us first! I fought for us but YOU said you couldn't do this distance. Then when it got to much you came crawling back begging for my forgiveness..." you said raising your voice.

"It's just not fair when I'm making all these sacrifices for you and I see nothing in return!" he exclaims looking at you as you stood up to go get a glass of water.

"How is it just you making sacrifices! I declined my first shot in a RedBull seat for you and they gave it to Checo! I'm lucky they asked me a second time to replace him! Not many other people would have had that offer. I send you money to help pay for the house because I chose to move out! I've left the race track without doing media duties so i can catch a 15 hour direct flight just to come see you, yet I don't do enough?" you yell at him.

"Y/N please let's not argue. You know I love you and I'd do anything for you, for us please!" he cries looking at you his eyes a little glassy from the argument.

"No! I've been so stressed these path months and you keep telling me, it's fine, its going to be fine, we're going to be fine, this bad patch will pass soon, when all i wanted was you to comfort me and hug me and tell me it's okay to feel that way not try and dismiss my feelings!" you scream at him and he looks at you in shock.

After that it was like something possessed both of you to say what you both hated about the other which when you looked at it after they were actually all the things you loved about him because they were what made him, well him the man you fell in love with.

However, it was such a bad breakup that Joe was once again spotted in a night club. He'd text you the next morning apologizing saying he didn't mean any of it and it was just all a really big mistake.

You'd spent the day crying in your drivers room before the start of FP1. You felt so alone and like you couldn't talk to anyone.

"Y/N?" you heard the soft Dutch accent ask from the other side of the door. You held your sobs in and waited until it sounded like Max had left before you let a jagged breath out.

"Y/N, let me come in" you hear Max as making you get up and unlock the little bolt on the door.

"Are you-" he asks before he can fully look at you. You go back to the sofa and curl up into the ball you were in before he got there.

"Oh Schat, come here" he says as he takes a seat next to you with his arms open.

"I don't know what to do!" you cried into him while he played with your hair and rubbed your back comfortingly.

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself" he sighs pulling your chin up and looking you in the eyes.

"What do you mean?" you ask cocking your head to the side.

"This on and off toxic, viscous circle with Joe. It's not healthy and you only ever make yourself upset" he sighs, pulling some hair behind your ear.

"I don't know..." you sigh, thinking about all of it.

"Maybe I can help" he smiles. In Max's mind this may be the only chance he gets to admit his feeling for you, to you. And he wasn't going to waste that opportunity no matter the potential out come.

He leaned in and pulled you in for a kiss, you kissed back shocked what was going on. And eventually molded into it until a voice in the back of you head reminded you of how much you loved Joe even if you were broken up.

"Max no s-stop!" you mumble as you push him back and when you look over your team-mate he looks heartbroken.

You sit there for a second, kissing Max was so different to kissing Joe. Kissing Joe was familiar and comforting and full of love and the kindness that was Joe Burrow. But kissing Max was passionate, impulsive and a different kind of affection. Something new. And you couldn't put your finger on why Max made you feel like that from something as simple as a kiss.

You wanted to try it again.

So you leaned in, pulling his jaw closer to you until your lips met and the kiss was aggressive and both of you were fighting for more power. Just like you did on track.

But again, you pulled away a little voice at the back of your mind telling you this isn't something you should be pursuing as Joe will come back and apologize for the argument. Just like he always did.

"I-I'm confused ..." you say tears welling in your eyes. As you look over at Max.

"You need to leave!" you say immediately pushing him out the room and locking the door.

You stood there, not knowing what you were feeling or what to even think.

The only thing on your mind is that you were hopelessly stuck in between two boys and your stuck feeling for one of them, whilst growing feeling for the other.

Taglist:

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