Unremembered
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: imagine looking the love of your life in their eyes and seeing a stranger stare back — but Max doesn’t have to imagine, not when this is his reality
Warnings: serious injury and memory loss
The roar of the V6 engine fills Max’s ears as he navigates the twists and turns of the Zandvoort circuit. It’s the first practice session of the Dutch Grand Prix weekend, and Max is in his element, pushing his Red Bull to its limits.
Suddenly, his race engineer’s voice crackles through the radio. “Max, box this lap. Come back to the garage.”
Max furrows his brow, confused. “What? Why? The car feels fine.”
“Max, just box now. It’s important,” GP insists, his tone unusually stern.
Reluctantly, Max steers his car into the pit lane, frustration building. As he pulls into the garage, he notices an unusual flurry of activity. His performance coach, Rupert, is waiting with a grim expression.
“Max, out of the car. Now,” Rupert says urgently.
Max climbs out, yanking off his helmet. “What’s going on? Why did you pull me in?”
Rupert takes a deep breath. “Max, I answered a call on your phone while you were out there. It was the hospital.”
Max’s heart skips a beat. “The hospital? What”
“It’s about Y/N,” Rupert says softly. “She was in a car accident on her way here. It’s ... it’s serious, Max. They’ve taken her to the trauma center.”
The world seems to tilt on its axis. Max grabs Rupert’s arm to steady himself. “What? No, that can’t ... is she okay?”
Rupert shakes his head. “I don’t know. They didn’t give me details. But they said you should come right away.”
Without another word, Max bolts towards the exit. Rupert calls after him, “I’ll drive you!”
The car ride to the hospital is a blur. Max stares out the window, his mind racing. “This can’t be happening,” he mutters. “We were just talking this morning. She was excited to watch practice ...”
Rupert glances at him sympathetically. “Try not to assume the worst. Y/N’s tough. She’ll pull through this.”
Max nods numbly, willing himself to believe it. They screech to a halt outside the emergency entrance, and Max is out of the car before Rupert can even put it in park.
At the reception desk, Max’s words tumble out in a panicked rush. “My girlfriend was brought in. Car accident. Y/N Y/L/N. Where is she?”
The nurse types rapidly. “She’s in surgery right now. If you’ll have a seat in the waiting area, the doctor will come speak with you as soon as possible.”
Max paces the waiting room like a caged animal, running his hands through his hair. Rupert tries to calm him, but Max barely hears him. After what feels like an eternity, a doctor approaches.
“Are you here for Y/N Y/L/N?”
Max nods frantically. “Yes, I’m her boyfriend. Is she okay?”
The doctor’s expression is grave. “She’s out of surgery now. The accident was very serious. She has multiple broken bones and internal injuries. We’ve stabilized her, but ...”
“But what?” Max demands, his voice cracking.
“She suffered a significant head injury. There’s swelling in her brain. We won’t know the full extent of the damage until she wakes up.”
Max sways on his feet. Rupert steadies him with a hand on his shoulder. “Can I see her?” Max asks weakly.
The doctor nods. “She’s in the ICU. I must warn you, she’s heavily sedated and on a ventilator. It may be distressing to see her like this.”
Max follows the doctor down sterile hallways, his heart pounding. When they reach Y/N’s room, he freezes in the doorway. The sight of her lying there, battered and bruised, hooked up to machines, is like a physical blow.
He approaches the bed slowly, tears welling in his eyes. “Y/N,” he whispers, gently taking her hand. “I’m here. You’re going to be okay. You have to be okay.”
Hours pass. Max refuses to leave her side, holding her hand and talking to her softly. Nurses come and go. Rupert brings him coffee that goes cold, untouched.
As evening falls, Max notices her fingers twitch. He leans forward eagerly. “Y/N? Can you hear me?”
Her eyelids flutter, then slowly open. Max’s heart soars. “Y/N! Oh, thank God. You’re awake. How do you feel?”
But something’s wrong. Her eyes are unfocused, confused. She looks at Max blankly, then around the room in bewilderment.
“Where ... where am I?” She croaks, her voice hoarse from the ventilator tube that was recently removed.
“You’re in the hospital,” Max explains gently. “You were in an accident, but you’re going to be okay now.”
She frowns, struggling to process. “An accident? I don’t ... I don’t remember ...”
Max squeezes her hand reassuringly. “That’s okay. Don’t worry about that now. I’m just so glad you’re awake.”
But she pulls her hand away, shrinking back slightly. Her eyes narrow as she studies his face. “I’m sorry, but ... who are you?”
***
Max’s world comes crashing down with those three simple words. He stares at you, his mouth agape, unable to process what he’s just heard. The room suddenly feels too small, too hot, too bright.
“Who ... who am I?” Max repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s Max. Your boyfriend.”
You shake your head slowly, wincing at the movement. “I’m sorry, I don’t ... I don’t know you. I don’t remember having a boyfriend.”
Max’s heart shatters into a million pieces. He takes a step back, running a trembling hand through his hair. “Okay, okay,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “The doctor said there might be ... complications. This is just temporary. It has to be.”
You watch him warily, confusion and fear evident in your eyes. “I don’t understand what’s happening. Why can’t I remember anything?”
Max takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He needs to be strong for you, even if you don’t know who he is. “You were in a car accident,” he explains gently. “You hit your head pretty badly. The doctors said there might be some memory loss, but ... I didn’t think ...”
His voice trails off as he sees tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m scared,” you whisper. “I don’t remember the accident. I don’t remember coming here. I don’t even know what day it is.”
Max instinctively reaches out to comfort you, but stops himself, realizing his touch might not be welcome. “It’s okay to be scared,” he says softly. “But you’re not alone. I’m here for you, even if you don’t remember me right now.”
A nurse enters the room, breaking the tension. She smiles warmly at you. “It’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
You turn to her, relief evident in your voice. “Everything hurts and I’m so confused. I can’t remember anything.”
The nurse nods sympathetically. “That’s not uncommon with head injuries. Try not to worry too much. Your memories may come back gradually as the swelling in your brain goes down.”
Max interjects, his voice tight with worry. “But she will remember, right? This isn’t ... permanent?”
The nurse’s expression turns cautious. “Every case is different. We’ll need to run some more tests now that she’s awake. The neurologist will be by soon to evaluate her.”
Max nods numbly, feeling like he’s trapped in a nightmare he can’t wake up from. The nurse checks your vitals and adjusts your medication before leaving the room.
An uncomfortable silence falls. You fidget with the edge of your blanket, avoiding Max’s gaze. “So ... we’re together?” You ask hesitantly.
Max nods, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, for almost two years now. We live together in Monaco.”
Your eyes widen. “Monaco? But I’m ... I’m not rich. At least, I don’t think I am.”
Despite everything, Max can’t help but chuckle. “No, but I am. I’m a Formula 1 driver. That’s why we were here in the Netherlands. It’s race weekend, and you were coming to watch me practice.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “This is so strange. It’s like you’re talking about someone else’s life. I can’t imagine dating a famous race car driver.”
Max’s heart clenches at your words. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through photos. “Here,” he says, holding it out to you. “Maybe these will help jog your memory.”
You take the phone hesitantly, swiping through picture after picture of the two of you together. At the beach, at fancy galas, cuddled up on the couch. In every photo, you both look blissfully happy.
“We look ... so in love,” you murmur, your brow furrowed in concentration.
“We are,” Max says softly. “Or at least, we were. I still am.”
You hand the phone back, your expression troubled. “I’m sorry. I wish I could remember. You seem like a really nice guy, and clearly we had something special, but ... it’s all blank.”
Max swallows hard, fighting back tears. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”
Just then, a doctor enters the room. “Ah, good to see you awake,” he says briskly. “I’m Dr. Smeets, the neurologist on your case. How are you feeling?”
You explain your symptoms and memory loss while the doctor makes notes. Max hovers anxiously in the background, hanging on every word.
“Well,” Dr. Smeets says finally, “the good news is that your physical injuries are progressing nicely. The memory loss is concerning, but not entirely unexpected given the trauma to your brain.”
“Will she get her memories back?” Max asks, unable to keep the desperation from his voice.
The doctor’s expression is guarded. “It’s impossible to say for certain. Retrograde amnesia can be unpredictable. Sometimes memories return quickly, sometimes it takes months or even years. And in some cases ...”
“Some cases what?” Max presses.
Dr. Smeets sighs. “In some cases, the memories never fully return. But,” he adds quickly, seeing the stricken look on Max’s face, “that’s relatively rare. The best thing you can do is be patient. Surround her with familiar people and places. Sometimes sensory triggers can help unlock memories.”
Max nods, clinging to that small hope. “Thank you, doctor. What’s the next step?”
“We’ll keep her here for observation for a few more days, run some more tests. After that, assuming there are no complications, she can be discharged to recover at home.”
After the doctor leaves, Max turns to you with forced cheerfulness. “See? That’s good news. You’ll be out of here soon, and then we can go home and work on getting your memories back.”
You shift uncomfortably. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that. Going ... home with you. I mean, you seem great, but you’re still a stranger to me.”
Max feels like he’s been punched in the gut, but he forces himself to nod. “Of course. I understand. We’ll figure something out. Maybe you can stay with your parents for a while?”
You nod, looking relieved. “That sounds better. I remember my parents, at least.”
An awkward silence falls. Max clears his throat. “Do you want me to call them?”
“Would you mind? I don’t even know where my phone is.”
Max steps out into the hallway to make the call, grateful for a moment to collect himself. When he returns, you’re looking out the window, lost in thought.
“They’re on their way,” Max says softly. “They’ll be here in a few hours.”
You turn to him, your expression softening slightly. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
Max shrugs. “Of course I did. I care about you, even if you don’t remember that right now.”
You study him for a long moment. “Can you ... can you tell me about us? How we met, what our life is like? Maybe it’ll help bring something back.”
Max’s heart leaps at the request. He pulls a chair closer to your bed and begins to talk, recounting the story of your relationship. How you met at a charity event, how nervous he was to ask you out, your first date at a little Italian restaurant in Monaco.
As he speaks, you listen intently, searching your mind for any flicker of recognition. But the memories remain frustratingly out of reach, like trying to grasp smoke.
“I’m sorry,” you say finally, interrupting his story about your first vacation together. “None of this is ringing any bells. It all sounds wonderful, but ... it’s like you’re talking about someone else’s life.”
Max tries to hide his disappointment. “It’s okay. The doctor said it might take time. We just have to be patient.”
You nod, but your expression is troubled. “What if ... what if I never remember? What if these memories are just gone forever?”
Max takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “Then we’ll make new ones,” he says firmly. “I love you, Y/N. That hasn’t changed. If I have to make you fall in love with me all over again, I will.”
You look at him, a mix of emotions playing across your face. “That’s ... that’s incredibly sweet. But what if I’m not the same person anymore? What if the me you fell in love with is gone?”
Max shakes his head vehemently. “That’s not possible. You’re still you, even if you can’t remember everything right now. The core of who you are, that hasn’t changed. I know it.”
You don’t look convinced, but you offer him a small smile. “I hope you’re right.”
Just then, a commotion in the hallway catches their attention. Your parents burst into the room, faces etched with worry.
“Oh, sweetheart!” Your mother cries, rushing to your bedside. “We were so worried!”
Your face lights up with recognition. “Mom! Dad!” You exclaim, reaching out to hug them.
Max steps back, giving your family space for their reunion. He watches with a mixture of relief and jealousy as you interact easily with your parents, the rapport between you unchanged by your memory loss.
After a few minutes, your father turns to Max. “Thank you for calling us, and for being here with her.”
Max nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Of course. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
Your mother looks between Max and you, sensing the tension. “Is everything okay?”
You bite your lip, looking uncomfortable. “Mom, I-I can’t remember Max. Or anything about our relationship. The doctor says I have amnesia from the accident.”
Your parents exchange worried glances. Your father puts a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, son. This must be incredibly difficult for you both.”
Max nods, not trusting himself to speak. Your mother turns to you. “But surely you remember something? You and Max have been so happy together.”
You shake your head sadly. “I’m trying, but it’s all blank. I’m sorry.”
An awkward silence falls over the room. Finally, your father clears his throat. “Well, the important thing is that you’re going to be okay. We’ll figure out the rest as we go.”
Max nods in agreement, but inside, he’s screaming. How can he just stand by and watch as the love of his life slips away? But he knows he has to be patient, to give you space to heal and hopefully remember.
“I should probably go,” he says reluctantly. “Let you have some time with your family.”
You nod, looking relieved. “Thank you for staying with me. And for ... for everything.”
Max forces a smile. “Of course. I’ll be back tomorrow, if that’s okay?”
You hesitate for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, that’s fine. Maybe ... maybe you can bring some more photos? Or videos? Something that might help trigger my memory?”
Max’s heart swells with hope. “Absolutely. I’ll bring everything I can think of.”
As he turns to leave, you call out softly. “Max?”
He turns back, his breath catching in his throat. “Yeah?”
You give him a small, uncertain smile. “I’m glad I have someone like you in my life. Even if I can’t remember it right now.”
Max blinks back tears as he nods. “Always,” he whispers. “I’m always here for you.”
***
Max trudges into his hotel suite, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a physical force. He closes the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment, eyes closed, trying to steady his breathing. The room is dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions swirling inside him.
He fumbles for the light switch, wincing as the bright overhead lights flicker on. The suite feels cavernous and empty without you here. Your suitcase sits untouched in the corner, a painful reminder of the plans you’d made for this weekend.
Max’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, seeing a flood of missed calls and messages. His team, his family, the media — all clamoring for information, for his attention. He can’t deal with any of it right now.
With trembling hands, he switches off his phone and tosses it onto the bed. He paces the room, energy thrumming through his body with nowhere to go. He should shower, should eat something, should call his manager and figure out what to do about the race weekend. But he can’t bring himself to do any of it.
Instead, he finds himself drawn to your suitcase. He kneels beside it, running his hand over the familiar fabric. Slowly, almost reverently, he unzips it. Your neatly folded clothes, your favorite perfume, the book you’d been reading on the plane — all these little pieces of you, reminders of the life you shared.
Max pulls out one of your sweaters, burying his face in the soft material. It still smells like you. And suddenly, the dam breaks.
A sob tears from his throat, raw and primal. Tears he’s held back for years, through every hardship and setback, finally break free. Max crumples to the floor, clutching your sweater to his chest as he weeps.
“Why?” He chokes out between sobs. “Why her? Why us?”
The tears keep coming, relentless. Max cries for the pain you’re in, for the memories you’ve lost, for the future that suddenly seems so uncertain. He cries for the little boy who was left alone at a gas station, for the young man who walked away from a horrific crash. He cries for every emotion he’s ever pushed down, every vulnerability he’s hidden behind a mask of determination and focus.
Through his tears, he hears a knock at the door. He ignores it, unable to face anyone right now. But the knocking persists, followed by a familiar voice.
“Max? It’s me. Open up, mate.”
Max considers pretending he’s not here, but he knows Daniel won’t give up easily.bWiping his face on his sleeve, Max staggers to his feet and opens the door. Daniel takes one look at his tear-stained face and immediately pulls him into a tight hug.
“Oh, mate,” Daniel says softly. “I just heard. I’m so sorry.”
Max breaks down again, sobbing into Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel doesn’t say anything, just holds him tightly, letting him cry it out.
Finally, Max pulls away, embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mutters, wiping his eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Daniel steers him towards the couch, closing the door behind them. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Max. You’re hurting. It’s okay to let it out.”
Max collapses onto the couch, feeling utterly drained. Daniel sits beside him, his usual joking demeanor replaced by genuine concern.
“Talk to me,” Daniel urges gently. “What happened?”
Max takes a shuddering breath. “She doesn’t remember me. She looked right at me and had no idea who I was. It’s like ... it’s like the last two years never happened for her.”
Daniel winces in sympathy. “That’s rough, mate. But the doctors think it’s temporary, right?”
Max shrugs helplessly. “They don’t know. It might come back, it might not. And even if it does, how long will it take? Weeks? Months? Years?”
“And you’re worried she won’t fall for you again,” Daniel says softly, understanding dawning on his face.
Max nods miserably. “What if she doesn’t? What if the girl I fell in love with is just ... gone? I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be around her when she doesn’t even know me.”
Daniel is quiet for a moment, considering. “You know,” he says finally, “when I first met Y/N, I thought you were crazy.”
Max looks up, confused. “What do you mean?”
Daniel grins. “Come on, mate. Mad Max settling down with a normal girl? I thought for sure it was just a phase, that you’d get bored and move on to the next model or whatever.”
Max bristles slightly. “Y/N’s not just some normal girl. She’s-”
“I know, I know,” Daniel interrupts, holding up his hands. “That’s my point. It didn’t take long for me to see how special she is, and how perfect you two are together. You bring out the best in each other. That connection, that spark — it’s still there, Max. Even if she can’t remember it right now.”
Max shakes his head. “You don’t understand. You didn’t see her in that hospital bed, looking at me like I was a total stranger. It was like ... like everything we had just disappeared in an instant.”
Daniel leans forward, his expression serious. “Listen to me. The memories might be gone for now, but the feelings? The connection you two have? That doesn’t just disappear. It’s still there, buried deep inside her. You just have to be patient and give her time to find it again.”
Max wants to believe him, but doubt gnaws at his heart. “What if she doesn’t want to? What if she decides she’s better off without me?”
Daniel scoffs. “Not a chance, mate. You’re Max fucking Verstappen. What girl wouldn’t want you?”
The joke falls flat. Max just stares at the floor, shoulders slumped. Daniel sighs, realizing humor isn’t the answer right now.
“Look,” he says softly, “I know you’re scared. But think about it this way — you’ve been given a chance to fall in love all over again. To experience all those firsts one more time. It’s not ideal, sure, but it’s not the end of the world either.”
Max looks up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You really think she could fall for me again?”
Daniel grins. “Are you kidding? She fell for you once when you were an arrogant little shit. Now that you’re slightly less of an arrogant little shit, it should be a piece of cake.”
Despite everything, Max finds himself chuckling. “Thanks, asshole.”
Daniel’s expression turns serious again. “I mean it, though. You can’t give up. Y/N needs you now more than ever, even if she doesn’t realize it. You have to be strong for her.”
Max nods slowly. “I know. I just ... I don’t know how to do this. How to be around her when she doesn’t know me. When she looks at me like I’m a stranger.”
Daniel considers this for a moment. “Maybe that’s your advantage. You get to introduce yourself to her all over again. Show her the Max that she fell in love with in the first place.”
Max mulls this over. “I guess ... I guess that could work. But what if I screw it up? What if I say or do the wrong thing and push her away?”
Daniel claps him on the shoulder. “That’s where your friends come in. We’ve got your back. Whatever you need, we’re here for you. Both of you.”
For the first time since the accident, Max feels a spark of genuine hope. “Thanks. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”
Daniel grins. “Probably crash and burn spectacularly. But that’s why we keep you around — you’re entertaining.”
Max rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling now. “Seriously, though. How do I do this? How do I help her remember without overwhelming her?”
Daniel thinks for a moment. “Start small. Don’t dump your whole history on her at once. Share little stories, show her pictures. Let her get to know you again naturally. And most importantly, be patient. This isn’t a race you can win by pushing harder. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”
Max nods, feeling a sense of determination replacing his earlier despair. “You’re right. I can do this. I have to do this. For her.”
Daniel smiles, seeing the familiar fire returning to his friend’s eyes. “That’s the Max I know. Now, have you eaten anything? Because I’m starving, and room service is calling my name.”
Max realizes he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. “Food sounds good,” he admits.
As Daniel picks up the phone to order, Max’s thoughts turn to you. He imagines you in that hospital bed, scared and confused. He makes a silent promise to himself, and to you, that he’ll do whatever it takes to help you remember. And if you can’t remember, he’ll make new memories with you, ones just as beautiful as the ones you’ve lost.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of food, conversation, and planning. Daniel helps Max sort through the flood of messages on his phone, crafting responses to his team and family. They decide that Max will skip the rest of the race weekend — his mind isn’t in the right place to drive safely, and you need him more than the team does right now.
As the night wears on, Daniel eventually leaves, extracting a promise from Max to call if he needs anything. Left alone, Max finds himself drawn once again to your suitcase. This time, instead of breaking down, he begins to pack a bag.
Photos, mementos, little things that might spark a memory — he carefully selects items to bring to the hospital tomorrow. As he works, he talks to you in his mind, imagining what he’ll say when he sees you again.
“I know you’re scared,” he murmurs, folding one of your favorite hoodies. “I’m scared too. But we’re going to get through this together. I’m not giving up on us, Y/N. Not now, not ever.”
As he zips up the bag, Max feels a renewed sense of purpose. The road ahead won’t be easy, but he’s ready to face it. Because at the end of that road is you, and a love worth fighting for.
Max crawls into bed, exhausted but no longer despairing. As he drifts off to sleep, his last thought is of you. Of your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes light up when you look at him. He holds onto these memories, these precious fragments of your life together, knowing that somehow, someway, he’ll find a way to share them with you again.
Tomorrow is a new day, a new chance to help you remember. And Max Verstappen has never been one to back down from a challenge.
***
The sun is barely peeking over the horizon as Max makes his way through the quiet hospital corridors. His footsteps echo in the empty hallway, the bag slung over his shoulder feeling heavier with each step. Inside are the stuffed versions of Jimmy and Sassy, and your favorite hoodie —his hoodie, really, but you’ve claimed it as your own.
As he approaches your room, Max takes a deep breath, steeling himself. He knocks softly before entering, not wanting to startle you if you’re asleep.
You’re awake, sitting up in bed and staring out the window. When you turn to look at him, there’s a flicker of recognition in your eyes, but it’s followed quickly by confusion.
“Max, right?” You say hesitantly.
Max forces a smile, trying to hide the pain those words cause. “That’s right. How are you feeling this morning?”
You shrug, wincing slightly at the movement. “Sore. Confused. But the doctors say I’m healing well, physically at least.”
Max nods, moving closer to the bed. “That’s good. I, uh, I brought some things for you. I thought they might help make you more comfortable.”
You eye the bag curiously. “Oh? That’s ... that’s very kind of you.”
Max sets the bag on the bed and starts unpacking. First, he pulls out the stuffed cats. “These are Jimmy and Sassy,” he explains. “Well, stuffed versions of them. They’re our cats. You can’t travel without these because you miss the real ones so much.”
Your eyes light up as you reach for the stuffed animals. “We have cats? I love cats!”
Max chuckles, a warmth spreading through his chest at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, two Bengal cats. They’re like little troublemakers, always getting into mischief. You adore them.”
You hug the stuffed cats close, a small smile playing on your lips. “Tell me about them?”
Max sits in the chair beside your bed, grateful for the opening. “Well, Jimmy is the older one. He’s very dignified, or at least he tries to be. But he has a weakness for cardboard boxes. No matter how expensive a cat bed we buy him, he always prefers a random Amazon box.”
You giggle at that, and the sound is like music to Max’s ears. He continues, “Sassy is younger and true to her name. She’s always chattering away, meowing at us like she’s telling us about her day. And she has this thing for water —she’ll sit by the sink for hours, just watching the faucet drip.”
“They sound wonderful,” you say softly, stroking the stuffed cats’ fur. “I wish I could remember them.”
Max reaches into the bag again. “Maybe this will help,” he says, pulling out the hoodie. “This is your favorite thing to wear around the house. Well, my hoodie that you’ve completely taken over.”
You take the hoodie, running your hands over the soft fabric. You bring it to your face, inhaling deeply, and for a moment, Max’s heart soars with hope. But then you shake your head.
“It smells ... familiar,” you say slowly. “But I can’t place it. I’m sorry.”
Max tries to hide his disappointment. “It’s okay. Don’t push yourself. The doctors said it might take time.”
You nod, but he can see the frustration in your eyes. “It’s just so strange,” you murmur. “I know things, like I know I love cats, but I can’t remember our cats. I know this hoodie is important, but I can’t remember why.”
Max leans forward, his voice gentle. “Hey, it’s okay. You’ve been through a lot. Give yourself time to heal.”
You look at him, really look at him, for the first time since he entered the room. “You’re being so patient with me. It must be hard for you, seeing me like this.”
Max swallows hard, fighting back tears. “It’s not easy,” he admits. “But you’re worth it. We’re worth it.”
A comfortable silence falls between you. You pull on the hoodie, snuggling into its warmth. “So,” you say after a while, “tell me more about us. How did we meet?”
Max’s face lights up at the question. “It was at a charity gala in Monaco,” he begins. “I was there representing the team and you were there with some friends. I saw you across the room and ... I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on your lips. “Oh really? Was it love at first sight?”
Max chuckles. “More like anxiety at first sight for me. I was so nervous to talk to you. I must have circled the room three times before I worked up the courage to approach you.”
“You? Nervous?” You say, sounding surprised. “But you’re a famous racing driver. Surely you’re used to talking to people.”
Max shrugs. “On the track, sure. But off it? Especially with beautiful women? I’m a disaster. But something about you ... I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t at least try to talk to you.”
You lean back against your pillows, looking intrigued. “So what happened? Did you sweep me off my feet with your charm?”
Max bursts out laughing. “God, no. I was a complete mess. I walked up to you, tried to say something smooth, and ended up knocking over a tray of champagne glasses. Drenched myself and nearly you too.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh no! That sounds mortifying.”
“It was,” Max agrees. “I was ready to run away and hide forever. But then you did something amazing. Instead of being upset or embarrassed, you started laughing. Not at me, but with me. You helped me clean up, made a joke about how I was smoother on the track than off it, and then ... you asked me to dance.”
You smile at that. “I did? That was brave of me.”
Max nods, his eyes soft with the memory. “It was. You later told me you thought I was cute when I was flustered. We danced for hours that night, talking about everything and nothing. By the end of the evening, I knew I wanted to see you again.”
“And the rest is history?” You ask.
“Not quite,” Max says with a grin. “I still had to convince you to go on a proper date with me. And let me tell you, dating a Formula 1 driver isn’t always easy. But we made it work. We’ve been together for two years now, living in Monaco.”
You absorb this information, your brow furrowed in concentration. “It sounds like a fairytale,” you say softly. “I wish I could remember it.”
Max reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking your hand. To his relief, you don’t pull away. “You will,” he says firmly. “And if you don’t, we’ll make new memories. Even better ones.”
You squeeze his hand, offering a small smile. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
“I do,” Max says without hesitation. “Because I know you, Y/N. Even if you can’t remember right now, I know the person you are. Your kindness, your strength, your incredible spirit. That hasn’t changed. It’s still there, inside you.”
Tears well up in your eyes. “I want to believe you,” you whisper. “But it’s so hard. Everything feels so ... disconnected. Like I’m living someone else’s life.”
Max moves to sit on the edge of the bed, still holding your hand. “I know it’s scary,” he says softly. “But you’re not alone in this. I’m here, your family’s here. We’ll help you through it, step by step.”
You nod, wiping away a stray tear. “Thank you. For being here, for bringing these things. It means a lot.”
Max smiles, his heart swelling with love for you. “Always. I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. No matter what.”
Just then, a nurse enters the room. “Good morning,” she says cheerfully. “How are we feeling today?”
You turn to her, still clutching the stuffed cats. “A bit better, I think. Max brought me some things from home.”
The nurse smiles approvingly. “That’s wonderful. Familiar objects can often help in recovery. Now, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to step out for a bit,” she says to Max. “We need to run some tests and change some dressings.”
Max nods, standing up reluctantly. “Of course. I’ll be back later, if that’s okay?” he asks, looking at you.
You nod, offering a small smile. “I’d like that. Maybe ... maybe you could bring some more things next time? Anything that might help jog my memory?”
Max’s heart leaps at the request. “Absolutely. I’ll bring whatever I can think of.”
As he turns to leave, you call out softly. “Max?”
He turns back, his breath catching in his throat. “Yeah?”
“Thank you,” you say simply. “For not giving up on me.”
Max feels tears pricking at his eyes. “Never,” he says firmly. “I’ll never give up on you, Y/N. On us.”
As he walks out of the hospital into the bright morning sunshine, Max feels a renewed sense of hope. It won’t be easy, and the road ahead is still long and uncertain. But you’re still you, still the woman he fell in love with. And he’ll do whatever it takes to help you find your way back to him.
He pulls out his phone, sending a quick message to his team. He won’t be racing this weekend, or perhaps for a while. Some things are more important than Formula 1. Right now, his place is here, by your side, helping you piece together the memories of your life together.
***
The press room is buzzing with anticipation as Max takes his seat at the table. Cameras flash incessantly and the murmur of journalists speculating grows louder. Max’s face is a mask of calm, but inside, he’s a storm of emotions.
His manager, Raymond, leans in close before stepping away. “Remember, keep it brief. No details about Y/N unless absolutely necessary.”
Max nods curtly, his jaw clenched. The past few days have been a whirlwind of hospital visits, tense conversations with the team, and now this — facing the media to explain his decision to step away from racing.
The room falls silent as the press conference begins. A Red Bull spokesperson steps up to the microphone.
“Good afternoon, everyone. As you know, Max Verstappen has announced his decision to take a leave of absence from Formula 1 for an undetermined period. Max will now take your questions.”
The room erupts with raised hands and shouted questions. Max points to a familiar face in the front row.
“Max, can you explain the reasoning behind this sudden decision? You’re in the midst of a tight championship battle. Why step away now?”
Max takes a deep breath. “I understand this comes as a surprise to many. There are personal matters that require my full attention right now. I can’t go into details, but I assure you, this decision wasn’t made lightly.”
Another journalist jumps in before he can choose the next question. “But surely these personal matters could be handled while continuing to race? Many drivers balance personal issues with their careers.”
Max feels a flicker of irritation. “Every situation is unique. In this case, I need to step away completely. My focus can’t be divided right now.”
The questions keep coming, each one chipping away at Max’s patience.
“Is this related to your recent performance dip?”
“Are there issues within the team we don’t know about?”
“Some fans are accusing you of abandoning the sport. What do you say to them?”
Max answers each as calmly as he can, but he can feel his control slipping. Then, a question from the back of the room ignites the powder keg.
“Max, there are rumors that this is about a woman. Have you let a relationship interfere with your career?”
The room falls silent, all eyes on Max. He grips the edge of the table, knuckles white. For a moment, he considers sticking to the script, giving another vague non-answer. But something inside him snaps.
“You want to know the truth?” He says, his voice low and intense. “Fine. I’ll tell you.”
Raymond steps forward, a warning in his eyes, but Max waves him off.
“My girlfriend was in a serious car accident,” Max continues, his voice growing louder. “She’s in the hospital with severe injuries and memory loss. She doesn’t even remember who I am.”
The room erupts in gasps and furious scribbling. Max stands, leaning forward on the table.
“So yes, I’m stepping away from racing. Because the woman I love needs me. Because some things are more important than trophies or championship points.”
He’s shouting now, years of pent-up frustration with the media pouring out.
“You all sit here and judge me, speculate about my personal life, accuse me of abandoning the sport. But where were you when I was a kid, pushed to the limit by a demanding father? Where were you when I was struggling with the pressure of being the youngest driver in F1 history?”
The room is dead silent now, every journalist hanging on his words.
“I’ve given everything to this sport. I’ve sacrificed friendships, relationships, a normal life. And now, the one time I need to put something else first, you question my commitment?”
Max’s voice breaks slightly, but he pushes on.
“Y/N is fighting for her life, fighting to remember who she is. Who we are together. And you want me to, what? Leave her alone in a hospital room while I zip around a track?”
He looks around the room, meeting the shocked gazes of the journalists.
“So go ahead. Write your stories. Question my decisions. But know this — I don’t regret my choice. Not for a second. Because at the end of the day, the chequered flag won’t keep me warm at night. It won’t laugh at my jokes or hold my hand when I’m stressed.”
Max takes a deep breath, his anger giving way to a deep sadness.
“I love racing. It’s been my whole life. But I love Y/N more. And right now, she needs me. So I’m going to be there for her, every step of the way, until she’s better. Until she remembers us.”
He sits back down, suddenly drained. The room is still silent, the journalists too stunned to even raise their hands for questions.
Finally, a older journalist in the front row clears his throat. “Max, I ... we had no idea. I’m so sorry about Y/N. Can you tell us more about her condition?”
Max shakes his head, his voice softer now. “I’ve already said more than I planned to. Y/N’s privacy is important to me. All I’ll say is that she’s fighting hard, and I’m going to be right there with her.”
Another journalist speaks up. “You mentioned Y/N doesn’t remember you. How are you coping with that?”
Max runs a hand through his hair, considering his words carefully. “It’s ... it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever faced. Harder than any race, any championship battle. To look into the eyes of the person you love most in the world and see no recognition ... it’s gut-wrenching.”
He pauses, swallowing hard. “But I’m not giving up. I’m fighting for us, for our memories, for our future. Even if I have to make her fall in love with me all over again.”
The mood in the room has shifted completely. Gone is the adversarial tension, replaced by a somber understanding.
“What can fans do to support you during this time?” Another journalist asks.
Max manages a small smile. “Just ... be patient. Understand that there are things more important than racing. And maybe, if you’re the praying type, keep Y/N in your thoughts.”
The Red Bull spokesperson steps forward, signaling the end of the conference. But Max holds up a hand, not quite finished.
“I want to say one more thing,” he says, his voice steady. “To any of you out there who might be going through something similar — don’t be afraid to step back. Don’t let anyone make you feel guilty for putting your loved ones first. At the end of the day, that’s what really matters.”
With that, Max stands and walks out of the room, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. As soon as he’s out of sight of the cameras, he leans against a wall, emotions overwhelming him.
Raymond approaches cautiously. “That ... didn’t go quite as planned.”
Max lets out a humorless laugh. “No, I suppose it didn’t.”
“You okay?” Raymond asks, genuine concern in his voice.
Max nods slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. It feels ... good to have it out there. No more hiding, no more vague excuses.”
Raymond squeezes his shoulder. “You did good, kid. It won’t be easy, but people will understand now.”
Max’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out to see a flood of messages — from his team, his family, even other drivers. But one catches his eye — a text from your mom.
“Just saw the press conference. Y/N would be so proud of you. We all are. Come by the hospital when you can. She’s asking for you.”
Despite everything, Max feels a smile tugging at his lips. He turns to Raymond. “I’ve got to go. Y/N’s waiting.”
Raymond nods understandingly. “Go. We’ll handle things here. Give her our best.”
As Max walks out of the building, he’s greeted by a small crowd of fans. But instead of the anger or disappointment he expected, he sees understanding and support in their faces. Many are holding haphazardly thrown together signs with messages of encouragement for both him and you.
One young girl breaks away from her parents, running up to Max with a hand-drawn card. “This is for Y/N,” she says shyly. “I hope she gets better soon.”
Max kneels down, taking the card with a genuine smile. “Thank you. I’ll make sure she gets it.”
As he stands, the crowd starts to applaud. It’s not the roar of a race victory, but a softer, more meaningful sound. The sound of people recognizing a different kind of strength, a different kind of victory.
Max raises a hand in acknowledgment before getting into his waiting car. As the driver pulls away, he looks at the card in his hands. It’s a simple drawing of two stick figures holding hands, with the words “Get well soon Y/N! Max loves you ❤️” written in childish scrawl.
For the first time in days, Max feels a weight lift from his shoulders. The road ahead is still long and uncertain, but he’s not alone. He has the support of his team, his fans, and most importantly, he has you — even if you can’t remember him yet.
As the car speeds towards the hospital, Max makes a silent promise. To you, to himself, to everyone who’s supporting them. He’ll face this challenge with the same determination and focus he brings to the track. Because this is the most important race of his life — the race to help you remember, to rebuild your life together.
And Max Verstappen doesn’t lose races that matter.
***
Max stands outside your hospital room, the handmade card clutched in his hand. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself before knocking softly and entering.
You’re sitting up in bed, looking more alert than he’s seen you since the accident. Your parents are there too, gathering your things in preparation for your discharge tomorrow.
“Max,” you say, a small smile gracing your lips. It’s not the warm, loving smile he’s used to, but it’s a start. “We saw your press conference.”
Max feels a flush creep up his neck. “Ah, yeah. I, uh, might have gotten a bit carried away.”
Your mother steps forward, enveloping him in a hug. “You were wonderful, dear. So brave and honest.”
“Thanks,” Max mumbles, still not entirely comfortable with praise outside of racing. He turns his attention back to you. “How are you feeling today?”
You shrug slightly. “Better, I think. Still ... confused about a lot of things. But the pain is less.”
Max nods, moving closer to your bed. “That’s good. I, uh, I have something for you.” He holds out the card. “A young fan made this for you after the press conference.”
You take the card, examining the childish drawing with a soft expression. “Get well soon Y/N! Max loves you!” You read aloud. Your eyes flick up to meet his. “That’s ... very sweet.”
Max shifts uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. Your father, sensing the tension, clears his throat. “We’re going to go get some coffee. Give you two some time to talk.”
As your parents leave the room, an awkward silence falls. Max takes a seat in the chair beside your bed, fidgeting with his hands.
“So,” you say finally, “you’re taking time off from racing. For me.”
Max nods. “Yeah. I hope that’s okay. I know you don’t ... remember us. But I want to be here for you, however you need me to be.”
You’re quiet for a moment, considering his words. “It’s a lot of pressure,” you admit softly. “Knowing someone’s put their whole life on hold for me.”
Max leans forward, his eyes intense. “Hey, no. Don’t think of it like that. This isn’t a sacrifice or an obligation. It’s a choice. My choice.”
You nod slowly, but he can see the doubt in your eyes. “Tell me something,” you say suddenly. “Something about us. Something ... happy.”
Max feels a smile tugging at his lips as he casts his mind back. “Okay, how about this? Last year, after I won the championship, we took a vacation. Just the two of us, no teams, no press, no obligations.”
“Where did we go?” You ask, curiosity piqued.
“Bali,” Max says, his eyes lighting up with the memory. “We rented this amazing villa right on the beach. You were determined to teach me how to surf.”
A small giggle escapes you. “Did I succeed?”
Max chuckles. “Not even close. I spent more time eating sand than standing on the board. But you were so patient, so encouraging. Even when I was frustrated and ready to give up, you just ... you made it fun.”
“Sounds nice,” you say softly.
“It was more than nice,” Max continues, warming to the subject. “One evening, we were sitting on the beach watching the sunset.” He pauses, swallowing hard. “I realized all the trophies, all the victories ... they didn’t compare to just being there with you, watching the sun sink into the ocean.”
You’re quiet for a long moment, absorbing his words. “We sound ... very happy together,” you say finally.
Max nods, blinking back tears. “We are. We were. We will be again.”
You reach out hesitantly, taking his hand. It’s the first time you’ve initiated contact since the accident, and Max feels his heart soar.
“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m being discharged tomorrow, and I don’t ... I don’t know where I belong anymore.”
Max squeezes your hand gently. “You belong wherever you feel comfortable. If that’s with your parents for now, that’s okay. If you want to try coming home with me, that’s okay too. There’s no pressure, no expectations. We’ll figure this out together, at your pace.”
You nod, looking grateful. “Thank you. For being so understanding. I know this can’t be easy for you either.”
Max shrugs. “It’s not. But you’re worth it. We’re worth it.”
A comfortable silence falls between you. Max is content to just sit there, holding your hand, savoring this small connection.
After a while, you speak again. “Can you tell me more? About our life together?”
Max’s face lights up. “Of course. What do you want to know?”
You consider for a moment. “What’s a typical day like for us? When you’re not racing, I mean.”
Max leans back in his chair, a fond smile on his face. “Well, you’re definitely the early riser between us. You usually get up first, make coffee. Sometimes you go for a run or do yoga on the balcony.”
“I do yoga?” You ask, sounding surprised.
Max chuckles. “Yeah, you got into it as a way to help me relax between races. Said if it could calm me down, it could work miracles for anyone.”
You laugh at that, a genuine, full laugh that makes Max’s heart skip a beat. It’s the first time he’s heard that sound since the accident.
“Anyway,” he continues, “I usually drag myself out of bed when I smell the coffee. We have breakfast together, usually something healthy that you insist I need.”
“Sounds like I take good care of you,” you observe.
Max nods, his expression softening. “You do. Better than anyone ever has.”
“What else?” You prompt, clearly engrossed in the story of your shared life.
“Well, if I’m training, you often come to the gym with me. You say it’s to support me, but I think you just like ogling me when I lift weights.”
You swat his arm playfully, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. “I do not!”
Max grins, delighted by this glimpse of your old dynamic. “Oh, you absolutely do. Not that I mind. I return the favor when you’re doing your yoga.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “What else do we do?”
“We cook together a lot,” Max says. “Or rather, you cook and I try not to burn the kitchen down. You’re teaching me, slowly but surely. We have this tradition of trying to recreate dishes from all the countries I race in.”
“That sounds fun,” you say, a wistful note in your voice. “Do we have a favorite?”
Max thinks for a moment. “There’s this amazing pasta dish we perfected after the Italian Grand Prix. You said it was better than sex.”
Your eyes widen. “I did not!”
Max laughs. “You absolutely did. Then you made me prove you wrong.”
You blush furiously, but you’re laughing too. “I can’t believe I said that!”
“Believe it,” Max says, grinning. “You’re full of surprises, schatje. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”
The word ’love’ hangs in the air between you. You grow quiet, your expression thoughtful.
“Max,” you say finally, “I want you to know ... I’m trying. To remember. To ... to feel what you feel.”
Max squeezes your hand. “I know you are. And it’s okay if it takes time. Or if ... if you never feel exactly the same way. We can build something new, if we need to.”
You nod, looking relieved. “Thank you. For understanding. For being patient.”
“Always,” Max says softly.
Just then, your parents return, breaking the intimate moment. Your mother smiles warmly at the sight of your joined hands.
“Everything okay in here?” She asks.
You nod, offering a small smile. “Yeah. Max was just telling me about our life together.”
Your father clears his throat. “Speaking of which, we should probably discuss arrangements for after your discharge tomorrow.”
You tense slightly, and Max can feel your grip on his hand tighten. “Right,” you say, your voice uncertain.
Max jumps in. “Y/N, remember what I said. Whatever you’re comfortable with. There’s no pressure.”
You nod gratefully. “I think ... I think I’d like to stay with my parents for a bit. If that’s okay?” You look at Max, worry in your eyes.
Max forces a smile, ignoring the pang in his heart. “Of course it’s okay. Whatever you need.”
Your mother steps forward. “Max, you’re welcome to visit anytime. We know how important you are to Y/N, even if she can’t remember everything right now.”
Max nods, grateful for their understanding. “Thank you. I’d like that.”
As the conversation turns to logistics of your discharge, Max finds his mind wandering. It’s not the outcome he’d hoped for, but he understands. You need time, space to heal and rediscover yourself. And he’ll be there, every step of the way, however you need him.
As visiting hours come to an end and Max prepares to leave, you call out to him.
“Max?”
He turns back. “Yeah?”
You hesitate for a moment, then say, “Thank you. For everything. And ... I’d like to hear more stories. About us. If that’s okay.”
Max feels a warmth spread through his chest. It’s not a declaration of love, not a magical recovery of memories. But it’s a start. A willingness to explore, to learn, to possibly fall in love all over again.
“Anytime,” he says softly. “I’ve got plenty of stories to tell.”
***
The Monaco apartment feels cavernous and empty as Max pushes open the door. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the soft padding of paws as Jimmy and Sassy come to greet him. They meow insistently, weaving between his legs, clearly searching for someone who isn’t there.
“I know,” Max murmurs, kneeling to scratch behind their ears. “I miss her too.”
He moves through the space, every corner filled with memories. Your favorite mug sits on the kitchen counter, lipstick stain still visible on the rim. A half-read book lies on the coffee table, your bookmark peeking out from the pages. Your scent lingers on the throw pillows on the couch.
Max sinks onto the sofa, and immediately, Jimmy jumps up beside him, headbutting his hand for attention. Sassy follows suit, curling up in his lap.
“At least I’ve got you two,” Max says softly, stroking their fur. “But it’s not the same, is it?”
He pulls out his phone, scrolling through photos of happier times. You and him on vacation, at race weekends, lazy Sundays at home. Your smile, so bright and full of love, now feels like a distant memory.
“Come on, Max,” he mutters to himself. “You can’t fall apart now. Y/N needs you to be strong.”
But in the quiet of the apartment, with only the cats for company, it’s hard to maintain that strength. For the first time since the accident, since the press conference, since leaving you at your parents’ house, Max allows himself to truly feel the weight of everything that’s happened.
A sob escapes him, then another. Soon, he’s crying in earnest, all the pent-up fear and frustration and loneliness pouring out. Jimmy and Sassy press closer, as if trying to comfort him.
“I don’t know what to do,” Max confesses to the empty room. “How do I help her remember? How do I make her fall in love with me again? What if ... what if she never does?”
The cats, of course, don’t answer. But their presence is comforting, a reminder that he’s not entirely alone.
As his tears subside, Max takes a deep breath, trying to center himself. He needs to focus, to come up with a plan. You might not remember your life together, but he does. And he’s determined to help you rediscover it, piece by piece if necessary.
He stands, moving to the bookshelf where you keep photo albums. Maybe he could put together a scrapbook of your relationship, something tangible for you to look through. As he reaches for an album, his phone buzzes in his pocket.
His heart leaps when he sees your name on the screen. He answers immediately, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”
“Hi,” you say, and he can hear a note of confusion in your voice. “Everything’s fine, I just ... this is going to sound weird, but I needed to ask you something.”
Max sits back down on the couch, curious. “Of course. What is it?”
You hesitate for a moment before speaking. “I’ve been having these ... cravings. For food I don’t remember ever eating before, much less liking. And I thought maybe ... maybe they mean something?”
Max’s pulse quickens. Could this be a sign of your memories returning? “What kind of food?” He asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Tomato soup,” you say. “And beef carpaccio. I know it sounds strange, but I can’t stop thinking about them. Do they ... do they mean anything to you?”
Max feels like his heart might burst out of his chest. “Y/N,” he says softly, “those are my favorite foods.”
“Oh,” you breathe, and he can hear the surprise in your voice. “I ... I didn’t know that.”
“The tomato soup is something my mom used to make for me when I was a kid,” Max explains, his voice thick with emotion. “And the carpaccio ... that was what we had on our first real date in Monaco.”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. “I don’t remember that,” you say finally, a note of frustration in your voice. “But I can almost ... almost taste it, you know? Like my body remembers even if my mind doesn’t.”
Max nods, even though you can’t see him. “That’s good, Y/N. That’s really good. It means the memories are still in there somewhere.”
“Maybe,” you say, sounding uncertain. “I just wish I could remember more. It’s so frustrating, having all these ... these echoes of a life I can’t quite grasp.”
“I know,” Max says soothingly. “But this is progress. We just have to be patient.”
You sigh. “You’re right. I just ... I feel bad, you know? You’re being so patient and understanding, and I can’t even remember our first date.”
Max’s heart aches at the sadness in your voice. “Hey, no. Don’t feel bad. This isn’t your fault. We’re in this together, remember?”
“Yeah,” you say softly. “Together.”
There’s another pause, and Max can almost picture you biting your lip, the way you do when you’re thinking hard about something.
“Max?” You say finally. “Can you ... can you tell me about our first date? The one with the carpaccio?”
A smile spreads across Max’s face. “Of course. It was about a week after we met at that charity gala. I was so nervous, I must have changed my shirt five times before picking you up.”
You laugh softly. “You, nervous? I find that hard to believe.”
“Believe it,” Max chuckles. “You had me completely flustered. Still do, if I’m honest.”
He launches into the story, describing how he’d taken you to a small, intimate restaurant overlooking the harbor. How you’d laughed at his attempts to pronounce the French dishes, how your eyes had lit up when you tasted the carpaccio.
“You said it was the best thing you’d ever eaten,” Max recalls. “But I barely tasted the food. I just couldn’t believe someone as amazing as you was interested in me.”
“Max ...” you start, your voice soft and a bit uncertain.
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I don’t mean to push. I know this is all still ... complicated.”
“No, it’s okay,” you assure him. “I like hearing these stories. They help, even if I can’t remember them myself yet.”
Max feels a warmth spread through his chest. “I’m glad. I’ve got plenty more where that came from, whenever you want to hear them.”
“I’d like that,” you say. “Maybe ... maybe next time we could do it in person? If you’re not too busy, I mean.”
“Y/N,” Max says seriously, “I’m never too busy for you. Just name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”
You laugh softly. “Careful, I might hold you to that.”
“Please do,” Max says, meaning every word.
As you say your goodbyes, Max feels lighter than he has in days. It’s not a magical fix, not a sudden return of all your memories. But it’s progress. A willingness to explore, to learn, to possibly fall in love all over again.
An idea strikes him as he ends the call. He quickly pulls up a food delivery app on his phone, searching for restaurants near your parents’ house. Finding one that offers both tomato soup and beef carpaccio, he places an order, adding a note.
A taste of our memories. Hope this helps satisfy those cravings - Max
As he completes the order, Max feels a surge of hope. It’s a small gesture, but maybe it will help trigger more memories. Or at the very least, it will show you that he’s thinking of you, that he’s here for you in whatever way you need.
He looks around the apartment, seeing it with new eyes. Yes, it’s empty without you here. But it’s not a sad emptiness anymore. It’s a space waiting to be filled again, with new memories alongside the old.
Max scratches Jimmy and Sassy behind the ears. “What do you think, guys? Should we start planning how to win your mom’s heart all over again?”
The cats purr in response, and Max chuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Even if you can’t remember everything yet, your body remembers. Your heart remembers.
And Max is determined to help you rediscover every beautiful moment of your life together, one memory at a time. Starting with a bowl of tomato soup and a plate of beef carpaccio.
***
The shrill ring of his phone jolts Max awake. He fumbles for it in the darkness, heart racing as he sees the caller ID: your mother.
“Hello?” He answers, voice thick with sleep but mind rapidly clearing.
“Max, I’m so sorry to wake you,” your mother’s voice comes through, tense and worried. “It’s Y/N. She woke up about an hour ago and she’s ... she’s not okay.”
Max is already out of bed, fumbling for clothes. “What’s wrong? Is she hurt?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” your mother assures him quickly. “She’s just ... she’s crying and she keeps saying she needs you. We can’t calm her down. I know it’s the middle of the night, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You did the right thing,” Max says, pulling on a shirt haphazardly. “I’m on my way. Can you put her on the phone?”
There’s a rustling sound, then your voice comes through, small and broken. “Max?”
His heart clenches at the pain in your voice. “Y/N, I’m here. What’s wrong, liefje?”
“I don’t know,” you sob. “I had this dream and now everything hurts and I can’t ... I can’t remember but I know I need you. Please, Max. I need you here.”
“I’m coming,” Max promises, already dialing his pilot with his other phone. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just hold on, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper. “Please hurry.”
As the call ends, Max is already rushing out the door, barely remembering to grab his wallet and keys. He calls his pilot as he takes the stairs two at a time, not willing to wait for the elevator.
“Frank, I need the jet ready as soon as possible. We’re flying to-” he rattles off the name of your parents’ hometown. “How fast can we be in the air?”
“Mr. Verstappen, it’s the middle of the night,” Frank starts, but Max cuts him off.
“I know what time it is. This is an emergency. How soon?”
There’s a pause, then Frank sighs. “Give me 30 minutes. I’ll call the crew.”
“Make it 20,” Max insists. “I’ll double your rate.”
“We’ll be ready,” Frank assures him.
Max ends the call as he reaches his car, peeling out of the parking garage with a screech of tires. His mind races as fast as the car, worry for you overwhelming everything else.
What could have triggered this? You’d been doing better, or so he thought. The memory of food had seemed like progress. But now ...
He shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the road. Getting to you safely is what matters now. Everything else can wait.
Max makes it to the airport in record time, barely bothering to park properly before he’s sprinting towards his private jet. Frank meets him at the stairs.
“We’re fueled and ready,” he says. “Weather looks clear, we should have a smooth flight.”
“Good,” Max nods, already climbing the stairs. “Let’s go.”
As the jet takes off, Max finds himself unable to sit still. He paces the cabin, checking his phone every few seconds even though he knows there’s no signal at this altitude.
The flight attendant approaches cautiously. “Mr. Verstappen? Can I get you anything?”
Max shakes his head, then reconsiders. “Actually, yes. Coffee. Strongest you’ve got.”
She nods, retreating to the galley. Max resumes his pacing, his mind a whirlwind of worry and speculation.
What if you’d remembered something traumatic? What if this setback undid all the progress you’d made? What if ...
He forces himself to stop that line of thinking. Catastrophizing won’t help anyone, least of all you.
The flight seems to take an eternity. As soon as they land, he’s out of his seat, barely waiting for the stairs to fully deploy before he’s racing down them.
A car is waiting, arranged by his ever-efficient team. Max barely registers the driver’s greeting as he slides into the backseat.
He recites the address tersely. “As fast as you can.”
The drive is a blur of streetlights and quiet suburban roads. Max’s leg bounces nervously, his hands clenched into fists.
Finally, mercifully, they pull up to the familiar house. Max is out of the car before it fully stops, racing up the front steps.
Your father opens the door before he can knock. “Thank God you’re here,” he says, ushering Max inside. “She’s upstairs.”
Max takes the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding. He can hear muffled sobs coming from your old bedroom.
He pauses at the door, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Then he knocks softly. “Y/N? It’s me. It’s Max.”
The sobs quieten slightly. “Max?” Your voice comes through, small and uncertain.
“Can I come in?”
There’s a pause, then: “Please.”
Max opens the door slowly. The room is dimly lit by a bedside lamp, casting long shadows. You’re huddled on the bed, knees drawn up to your chest, eyes red and puffy from crying.
The sight of you so distressed nearly breaks him. In two long strides, he’s at your side.
“I’m here,” he says softly. “I’m right here.”
You look up at him, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. “Max,” you whisper, and then you’re launching yourself into his arms.
Max catches you, holding you close as you sob into his chest. He strokes your hair, murmuring soothing words.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Gradually, your sobs subside, replaced by hiccuping breaths. Max continues to hold you, rocking slightly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently.
You pull back slightly, wiping your eyes. “I had this dream,” you start, your voice hoarse. “It was so vivid. We were ... we were in a car, I think. And there was a crash and I couldn’t ... I couldn’t reach you.”
Max’s heart clenches. Is this a memory of your accident trying to surface?
“It felt so real,” you continue. “And when I woke up, I was so scared and confused. I couldn’t remember where I was or why you weren’t there. I just knew I needed you.”
“I’m here now,” Max says, cupping your face gently. “I’ll always come when you need me.”
You lean into his touch, closing your eyes. “I’m sorry for making you fly out in the middle of the night.”
Max shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. There’s something different there, something Max can’t quite identify.
“Max,” you say slowly, “I think ... I think I remembered something.”
His breath catches. “What did you remember?”
You furrow your brow, concentrating. “It’s not clear. Just ... feelings, mostly. But when you walked in, when you held me ... it felt familiar. Safe. Like ... like coming home.”
Max feels hope bloom in his chest. “That’s good, schatje. That’s really good. It means the memories are still there, even if they’re hard to reach right now.”
You nod, then yawn widely. The emotional toll of the night is clearly catching up with you.
“You should try to get some sleep,” Max says, moving to stand up.
But you grab his hand, holding him in place. “Will you ... will you stay? Just until I fall asleep?”
Max’s heart swells. “Of course. As long as you need.”
You scoot over, making room for him on the bed. Max kicks off his shoes and lies down next to you, careful to maintain a respectful distance.
But you close that distance, curling into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And for a moment, it feels like nothing has changed. Like the accident never happened.
“Tell me a story,” you mumble, already half-asleep. “About us.”
Max smiles, wrapping an arm around you. “Okay. How about the time we tried to teach Jimmy and Sassy to swim?”
You make a soft sound of agreement, nuzzling closer.
As Max recounts the tale of your misadventures with the cats and a kiddie pool, he feels you relax against him, your breathing evening out.
He continues the story even after he’s sure you’re asleep, partly out of habit, partly because he’s not ready for this moment to end.
Eventually, he falls silent, just listening to your steady breathing. He knows he should leave, go sleep in the guest room or on the couch. But he can’t bring himself to move, to break this fragile peace.
Just a few more minutes, he tells himself. Just a little longer.
Before he knows it, sunlight is streaming through the windows. Max blinks awake, momentarily disoriented. Then he feels you stir against him, and everything comes rushing back.
You lift your head, looking up at him with sleep-clouded eyes. For a moment, just a moment, Max sees recognition there. The look you used to give him every morning.
But then you blink, and it’s gone, replaced by confusion, then embarrassment.
“Oh God,” you mutter, sitting up quickly. “Max, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you here all night.”
Max sits up too, trying to ignore the ache in his heart at the loss of contact. “It’s okay. I wanted to be here.”
You run a hand through your hair, not meeting his eyes. “Last night ... it’s all a bit fuzzy. Did I ... did I say anything? About remembering?”
Max nods slowly. “You said being with me felt familiar. Like coming home.”
You’re quiet for a long moment, staring at your hands. “I wish I could remember more,” you say finally, your voice small. “It’s all still so ... jumbled.”
Max reaches out, then stops himself, unsure if the touch would be welcome. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out together.”
You look up at him then, a small smile on your face. “Together,” you repeat. “I like the sound of that.”
There’s a soft knock at the door, and your mother pokes her head in. “Oh good, you’re both awake. Breakfast is ready if you’re hungry.”
As you both stand to head downstairs, Max feels a mix of emotions. Disappointment that the night didn’t lead to a magical recovery of your memories. Hope at the small signs of progress. And an overwhelming sense of love for you, memory or no memory.
He knows the road ahead is still long and uncertain. But as he watches you smile at something your mother says, he feels more certain than ever that it’s a road worth traveling.
Because even if you can’t remember all of your history together, you’re still you. Still the woman he fell in love with. And he’ll spend every day helping you rediscover that love, one memory at a time.
***
The rhythmic clanging of weights fills the air as Max pushes through another set of bench presses. Sweat beads on his forehead, his muscles straining with each repetition. Rupert stands nearby, counting softly and offering encouragement.
“Nine ... ten ... good, Max. One more set and we’ll move on.”
The sharp ring of Max’s phone cuts through the gym’s atmosphere. Max grunts, arms shaking as he finishes his reps.
“Can you grab that, Rupert? Might be important.”
Rupert nods, retrieving the phone from Max’s gym bag. “It’s Y/N’s parents,” he says, eyebrows raised.
Max’s heart skips a beat. “Put it on speaker,” he says quickly, sitting up on the bench.
Rupert answers the call, holding the phone out between them. “Hello? This is Rupert, Max’s trainer. You’re on speaker.”
“Oh, hello Rupert,” comes the familiar voice of your mother. “Is Max there? We have some news.”
“I’m here,” Max says, leaning closer to the phone. “What’s going on? Is Y/N okay?”
There’s a pause, and Max feels his anxiety spike. Then, your father’s voice comes through, barely containing his excitement.
“Max, it’s ... it’s incredible. Y/N says she can remember. Not everything, but ... a lot. She woke up this morning and it was like a flood of memories just came back to her.”
The words hit Max like a physical force. He stands abruptly, forgetting the weight still balanced precariously on his legs. It crashes to the floor with a deafening clang, missing Rupert’s foot by mere inches.
“Whoa!” Rupert yelps, jumping back. “Easy there, Max!”
But Max barely notices. His entire world has narrowed to the voice coming from the phone. “She ... she remembers? Are you sure? How much does she remember?”
Your mother’s voice comes back on. “It’s still patchy, but she remembers you, Max. She remembers your life together, your home in Monaco. She’s been talking about the cats all morning.”
Max feels his knees go weak. He sits back down heavily on the bench, his head spinning. “Can I ... can I talk to her?”
“I’m afraid she’s with the doctors right now,” your father explains. “They want to run some tests, make sure everything’s okay. But she’s been asking for you. We thought you’d want to know right away.”
Max nods, then remembers they can’t see him. “Yes, of course. Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll take the jet, I can be there in”
“Actually,” your mother interrupts, “Y/N has been asking to come home. To Monaco. She says she misses you, and the cats, and ... well, her life with you.”
Max feels a lump form in his throat. “She wants to come home?” He repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.
“If that’s alright with you,” your father adds quickly. “We understand if you need time to prepare, or if you think it’s too soon”
“No!” Max exclaims, perhaps a bit too loudly. He clears his throat. “I mean, no, it’s not too soon. It’s perfect. I can send the jet for her right away. If ... if that’s what she wants.”
He can hear the smile in your mother’s voice as she responds. “It is. She’s quite insistent, actually. Says she wants to sleep in her own bed.”
Max feels a grin spreading across his face. “I’ll make the arrangements right away. Can you have her ready to go in ... let’s say five hours?”
“We can do that,” your father confirms. “And Max? She’s ... she’s really excited to see you.”
Max swallows hard, emotion threatening to overwhelm him. “I can’t wait to see her too. Thank you both, for everything.”
As the call ends, Max looks up to see Rupert grinning at him. “So,” his trainer says, “I’m guessing our workout is over for the day?”
Max laughs, a sound of pure joy and relief. “Yeah, I’d say so. Sorry about almost crushing your foot.”
Rupert waves it off. “Small price to pay for good news like that. Go on, get out of here. Go prepare for Y/N’s homecoming.”
Max doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s already dialing his pilot as he rushes towards the locker room. “Frank? I need the jet ready as soon as possible. We need to pick someone up ...”
That evening, Max is pacing the length of his — your — living room, unable to keep still. He’s tidied the already immaculate apartment three times, checked on the cats twice, and changed his shirt four times.
Max takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He sinks onto the couch, and immediately Jimmy jumps into his lap.
“Hey, buddy,” Max murmurs, scratching behind the cat’s ears. “Mama’s coming home. You excited?”
Jimmy purrs in response, kneading Max’s leg. Sassy, not to be left out, appears from nowhere and curls up next to them.
“Yeah, me too,” Max says softly. He looks around the apartment, memories flooding back. Your first night here together, nervous and excited about taking this step. Lazy Sunday mornings cuddled on this very couch. The time you tried to teach him to dance in the living room, both of you laughing so hard you could barely stand.
The next hour crawls by at an agonizing pace. Max alternates between sitting rigidly on the couch and pacing the floor. He checks his phone obsessively, waiting for updates.
Finally, blessedly, his phone rings. It’s his pilot. “We’ve landed, boss. Y/N’s parents are helping her into the car now. Should be at your place in about 20 minutes.”
Max feels his heart rate double. “Thanks, Frank. Until next time.”
The next 20 minutes are the longest of Max’s life. He stands by the window, watching the street below, waiting for the familiar black SUV to appear.
When it finally does, Max feels like he might pass out. He watches as the car pulls up, as the driver gets out to open the back door. And then ... there you are.
You look tired, a bit pale, but to Max, you’ve never been more beautiful. You look up at the building, a soft smile playing on your lips. And then your eyes meet his through the window.
Max feels his breath catch in his throat. Because in that moment, he sees it. Recognition. Love. You’re really back.
He’s at the door in an instant, yanking it open just as you step off the elevator. For a moment, you both freeze, taking each other in.
“Max,” you whisper, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.
“Y/N,” he breathes, and then you’re in his arms.
He holds you tightly, burying his face in your hair, breathing you in. You cling to him just as fiercely, and he can feel your tears soaking through his shirt.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur against his chest. “I’m so sorry I forgot you.”
Max pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his hands cupping your face. “Hey, no. You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re here now. You’re home.”
You nod, a watery smile on your face. “I am. I remember, Max. Not everything, not yet. But I remember us. I remember loving you.”
Max feels tears spill down his cheeks, but he doesn’t care. He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you so much, liefje. God, I was so scared I’d lost you.”
You shake your head, your hands coming up to wipe away his tears. “Never. You could never lose me, Max Verstappen. Not really.”
And then you’re kissing, and it’s like coming home after a long, difficult journey. It’s familiar and new all at once, and Max never wants it to end.
A loud meow interrupts the moment. You break apart, laughing, to see Jimmy and Sassy winding around your feet, demanding attention.
“Oh, my babies!” You exclaim, kneeling down to scoop them up. “I missed you too!”
Max watches, his heart so full it feels like it might burst. This is what he’s been missing, what he’s been fighting for. You, here, in your home, with your little family.
As you straighten up, cats in arms, Max wraps an arm around your waist. “Welcome home,” he says softly.
You lean into him, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “It’s good to be home.”
Max knows there’s still a long road ahead. Your memory isn’t fully restored, and there will be challenges to face. But right now, in this moment, with you in his arms, he knows everything will be okay.
Because you remembered. You came home. And together, you can face anything.
***
The neon lights of Las Vegas blur into streaks of color as Max races through the city streets, his Red Bull car a blur of blue and red and yellow. The roar of the engine fills his ears, but it can’t drown out the beating of his own heart. This race feels different, more important than any he’s ever driven before.
As he navigates a tight corner, Max’s mind flashes back to the conversation that led him here...
“Max, you need to go back,” you had said, your voice gentle but firm. “Racing is part of who you are. I’m better now, and I want to see you out there doing what you love.”
Max had shaken his head, pulling you closer on the couch. “But what if something happens? What if you need me?”
You had laughed, a sound that still made his heart skip a beat. “I’ll always need you, silly. But I don’t need you hovering over me 24/7. Plus,” you added with a mischievous grin, “I miss seeing you in that race suit.”
Now, as he pushes the car to its limits, Max feels a renewed sense of purpose. He’s not just racing for himself anymore, or for the team. He’s racing for you, to make you proud, to show you that your faith in him wasn’t misplaced.
“Max, you’re pulling away,” GP’s voice crackles through the radio. “Gap to P2 is now 3.5 seconds. Keep this up, mate.”
Max grunts in acknowledgment, too focused to form words. He knows you’re watching from the garage, probably biting your nails like you always do during his races. The thought makes him smile behind his helmet.
Lap after lap, Max maintains his lead. The famous Las Vegas Strip becomes a blur of light and shadow as he speeds past the iconic hotels and casinos. In the back of his mind, he remembers your excitement when you found out about this race.
“Vegas, Max! It’s going to be incredible. Promise me we’ll stay a few extra days after the race?”
He had promised, of course. He’d promise you the moon if you asked for it.
As the final laps approach, Max’s concentration intensifies. He’s been in this position before, leading a race, victory within grasp. But it’s never felt quite like this.
“Two laps to go,” GP informs him. “You’ve got this. Just bring it home.”
Max takes a deep breath, visualizing the remaining track in his mind. He can almost hear your voice, the way you’d whisper “You’ve got this” before every race, a private moment just for the two of you amidst the pre-race chaos.
The last lap arrives, and Max is in the zone. Every turn, every straight, every gear change is perfect. As he rounds the final corner, the chequered flag comes into view.
“Yes!” Max shouts as he crosses the finish line, pumping his fist in the air. The team erupts in cheers over the radio, but Max is waiting for one particular voice.
“Brilliant drive, Max!” GP exclaims. “Absolute masterclass. How does it feel to be back on the top step?”
Max takes a moment to catch his breath, emotions threatening to overwhelm him. When he speaks, his voice is thick with feeling.
“It feels ... it feels incredible,” he says. “But this win, it’s not for me. It’s for Y/N.”
He can hear the surprise and emotion in GP’s voice as he responds. “That’s beautiful. I’m sure she’s over the moon right now.”
As Max begins his cool-down lap, he continues, knowing his words are being broadcast to millions around the world, but speaking only to you.
“Y/N, liefje, this one’s for you. For your strength, your courage, your unwavering support. You pushed me to come back even when I wanted to stay home with you. You believed in me when I doubted myself. This victory is yours as much as it’s mine.”
He pauses, swallowing hard. “I love you, Y/N. More than any trophy, any championship. You’re my biggest win.”
As he pulls into parc fermé, Max can see the team gathered, ready to celebrate. But his eyes scan the crowd, looking for only one person.
And there you are, pushing through the throng of mechanics and officials. Your eyes are shining with tears, but your smile is radiant.
Max practically leaps out of the car, not even bothering with his helmet. He meets you halfway, sweeping you up in his arms and spinning you around.
“You did it!” You exclaim, laughing and crying at the same time. “Oh Max, I’m so proud of you!”
Max sets you down but doesn’t let go, pressing his forehead to yours. “No, we did it. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
You shake your head, still smiling. “This was all you, Max. I just watched from the sidelines.”
“You’ve never been on the sidelines,” Max says firmly. “You’re the reason I’m here. The reason I push myself to be better, on and off the track.”
Before you can respond, the team descends upon them, whooping and cheering. Max is pulled away for the podium ceremony, but his eyes never leave you.
The champagne flows, the anthems play, but it all feels like a blur to Max. All he can think about is getting back to you, celebrating properly.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of photos and interviews, Max is able to escape back to the team’s hospitality area. You’re waiting for him, a glass of champagne in hand and a proud smile on your face.
“There’s my champion,” you say softly as he approaches.
Max pulls you close, not caring who might be watching. “I meant what I said on the radio,” he murmurs. “This win is yours.”
You laugh, a sound that still makes his heart soar. “Well, in that case, I guess I should start preparing my acceptance speech for the Prize Giving Ceremony.”
Max grins, playing along. “Oh yeah? And what would this speech entail?”
You pretend to think for a moment. “Let’s see … I’d like to thank the academy, and of course, my incredibly handsome and talented boyfriend, without whom none of this would be possible ...”
Max laughs, feeling lighter than he has in months. “Handsome and talented, huh? I like the sound of that.”
You smack his arm playfully. “Don’t let it go to your head, Verstappen. I’ve seen you first thing in the morning, remember?”
“Hey, I thought you said I was cute when I’m all sleepy and rumpled,” Max protests.
“Cute, yes. Handsome is a stretch,” you tease.
Max clutches his chest in mock offense. “You wound me. And after I just dedicated my win to you and everything.”
You soften, reaching up to cup his face. “It was beautiful, Max. Really. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
Max turns serious, covering your hand with his own. “You existed. That’s more than enough.”
You stand there for a moment, lost in each other’s eyes, the celebration continuing around you unnoticed.
Finally, Max breaks the silence. “So, about that promise to stay a few extra days in Vegas ...”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, you remembered! I was hoping you would.”
Max grins. “Of course I remembered. I was thinking... maybe we could make it a bit more special than just a few extra days?”
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”
Max takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous. This wasn’t how he’d planned to do this, but standing here with you, flush with victory and love, it feels right.
“Well,” he says slowly, reaching into his pocket, “I was thinking maybe we could celebrate our engagement.”
Your eyes widen as Max drops to one knee, pulling out a small velvet box. The noise of the celebration fades away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.
“Y/N,” Max begins, his voice shaky but determined, “these past few months have been the hardest of my life. But they’ve also shown me, without a doubt, that you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Through good times and bad, wins and losses, I want you by my side.”
He opens the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring. “Will you marry me?”
You gasp, tears filling your eyes. For a heart-stopping moment, Max fears he’s misjudged, moved too fast. But then you’re nodding, a radiant smile breaking through the tears.
“Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, Max. A thousand times yes.”
Max slips the ring onto your finger with trembling hands, then stands to pull you into a passionate kiss. The team, finally noticing what’s happening, erupts into cheers and applause.
As you break apart, breathless and giddy, Max rests his forehead against yours. “I love you. More than I ever thought possible.”
You beam up at him, your eyes shining with happiness. “I love you too. Always and forever.”
As the team swarms around them, offering congratulations and calling for more champagne, Max holds you close. This, he realizes, is his true victory. Not the race win, not the trophies or the championships. But this moment, with you in his arms, promising a future together.
***
Emma settles into her favorite armchair, a steaming mug of tea on the side table and Max Verstappen’s newly released autobiography in her hands. As a long-time fan of Formula 1 and Max in particular, she’s been eagerly anticipating this book.
She flips through the early chapters, smiling at familiar stories of Max’s rise through the ranks of motorsport. But it’s the chapter titled “The Race of My Life” that catches her attention. This, she knows, is where Max will finally open up about the period when he stepped away from racing — a time that had puzzled and worried fans.
As Emma begins reading, she’s immediately struck by the raw emotion in Max’s words.
I thought I knew what pressure was. The weight of expectations, the split-second decisions that could mean victory or defeat. But nothing in my racing career could have prepared me for the day I walked into that hospital room and saw the love of my life look at me without a hint of recognition.
Emma feels a lump form in her throat. She remembers the press conference where Max had revealed the reason for his absence, but this ... this is different. This is Max laying bare his soul in a way she’s never seen before.
In that moment, I realized that all the trophies, all the victories, all the adoration from fans — none of it mattered. The true test of my life wasn’t on any track. It was right there, in that sterile hospital room, facing the possibility of losing the one person who saw me not as Max Verstappen the driver, but just as Max.
Emma finds herself blinking back tears. She’s always admired Max for his skill on the track, his determination, his fierce competitiveness. But this vulnerability, this raw honesty, shows a side of him she never knew existed.
The chapter continues, detailing the days and weeks following the accident. Max describes the pain of seeing you struggle to remember, the hope that would flare with each small recognition, and the crushing disappointment when progress stalled.
I’ve faced some of the best drivers in the world, pushed myself to the absolute limit of human capability. But nothing — nothing — has ever been as challenging as sitting by her bedside, day after day, telling her stories of our life together and seeing no spark of remembrance in her eyes. It was like watching the person I loved most in the world slip away, inch by inch, and being powerless to stop it.
Emma has to pause her reading, overwhelmed by the emotion. She tries to imagine what it must have been like for Max, known for his control and precision on the track, to face a situation where he had no control at all.
As she continues reading, she’s struck by Max’s honesty about his own struggles during this time:
There were moments — dark, terrible moments — when I wondered if it would be easier to walk away. To accept that the woman I loved was gone, replaced by this stranger who wore her face but didn’t know my heart. The guilt I felt for even thinking such thoughts nearly crushed me. But I realized that true love, real love, isn’t just about the easy times. It’s about choosing to stay, to fight, even when every instinct is screaming at you to run.
Emma finds herself nodding, moved by Max’s profound realization. She remembers following his career, cheering his victories, sympathizing with his defeats. But this … this feels like she’s truly seeing the man behind the racer for the first time.
The chapter takes a turn as Max describes the day you started to remember:
When she looked at me that day, really looked at me, and I saw recognition in her eyes — it was like winning every championship, every race, all at once. No podium celebration could ever compare to the joy of hearing her say my name, of feeling her arms around me, knowing that she remembered us, our love, our life together.
Emma feels tears rolling down her cheeks now, unashamed. She’s always been moved by stories of love and perseverance, but knowing this is real, that it happened to someone she’s admired for so long, makes it all the more powerful.
As the chapter nears its end, Max reflects on how this experience changed him:
I returned to racing eventually, but I was never the same driver … or the same man. I had faced my greatest fear and come out the other side. I had learned that there are things more precious than any trophy, more thrilling than any race. I learned the true meaning of love, of commitment, of fighting for what really matters in life.
Emma closes the book, needing a moment to process everything she’s read. She feels like she’s seen a completely new side of Max Verstappen, one that goes far beyond the confident, sometimes brash young driver she remembers.
Picking up her phone, she opens Twitter, scrolling through reactions to the book. It seems she’s not alone in her emotional response. Fans and fellow drivers alike are sharing their thoughts.
Just finished @Max33Verstappen’s book. I’m in tears. What an incredible story of love and perseverance ❤️
Always respected Max as a driver, but this book shows what a truly remarkable person he is.
Emma adds her own tweet to the mix.
Thank you, @Max33Verstappen, for sharing your story. You’ve shown us that the greatest victories in life often happen off the track 🥺
She picks up the book again, turning to the final pages of the chapter. Max’s closing words resonate deeply.
In the end, life isn’t about the races you win or the records you break. It’s about the people you love, the bonds you forge, the differences you make. My greatest achievement isn’t any trophy or title. It’s the life I’ve built with her, the love we’ve nurtured through good times and bad. That’s my true legacy, and it’s one that will last far beyond when the chequered flag last waves for me.
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘 - 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆
desc. │ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴄʏ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʙᴏʏ ɪɴ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ɪꜱ ᴇxᴘᴏꜱᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴡᴏʀꜱᴛ ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ. ᴅᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʜɪᴍ. ᴀʟʟ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴀ ʙᴏʏ.
warnings. │ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴍᴇᴀɴ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴍᴅɴɪ, ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ. ᴍᴇᴀɴ ɢɪʀʟꜱ.
pairing. │ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ!ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ x ᴜɴᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ/ɴᴇʀᴅ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
Laughter was contagious, it was similar to a disease in the way that it spread from person to person. Bubbling up inside of you and exploding out like an erupting volcano. Laughter rang throughout this classroom like a bell on a high tower ringing through town.
It had surrounded you, enveloping you in a blur. You huddled into yourself, hugging yourself felt like the only form of protection you'd get from all the prying eyes and explosive laughter that came from them.
You had been a jester in their court, the punchline to their very cruel cruel joke. The screen in front of the classroom displayed your demise. The ultimate downfall of you, not that you had much credibility to begin with but any single ounce of dignity you once held was all gone now, you were left a puddle of yourself. Tears formed in your eyes the utter humiliation of the situation eating you up inside. You should run away, break free from the confines of this classroom and the people that surrounded you but you couldn't quite find your footing.
You were frozen in place not an inch of your body able to move from its spot. Your eyes searched for Heeseung in this room that felt so massive but at the same time so very small. You found him in the corner of the room, eyes not meeting yours. You were silently pleading from him to help you, for him to speak up and defend you. But he wasn't moving, not a single inch.
Your heart was breaking you could feel your stomach drop to its very pit. On the screen displayed pictures, multiple of them. Some of you and heeseung and some of your text messages with. It also showed pictures that you had sent to heeseung in confidence. Not fully naked but pretty close to it. Your mortification could not even begin to be described. This would destroy you. It was actively destroying you.
The source of your downfall you might ask? Hwang Yeji. Yeji hated you for a reason entirely unknown to you. So much so that she decided to expose the hidden relationship you held with the resident popular boy Lee Heeseung. In the most humiliating way possible. Feigning a school presentation she took the time to display all your inner most intimate moments with the boy.
Worst of it all. Heeseung sat completely still in his spot, not uttering a single word as Yeji spewed her hate to all of the class. He did absolutely nothing to defend you much less himself. It hurt more than a million tiny little needles poking into your skin. A million knives driven into your heart.
"Oh!" Yeji laughed, turning to look at you a smile big on her face. "The nerd is crying... Heeseung baby, do you have anything to say to your little girlfriend here? The side piece I should say." She spoke with venomous intentions, the heat of her gaze piercing you.
"She's not my girlfriend." Heeseung muttered finally. It was the first thing he said during this entire ordeal. The first thing he decided to say was say was not in defendance of you, instead he was covering his own ass.
It furthered your humiliation by a tenfold. You curled into yourself hugging even tighter hoping and praying that you could just simply disappear. You had been invisible most of your life and most days you hated it, today was not one of those days. Today you wished for it, prayed for it even.
“What-“ You whispered out, sure that the broken look on your face would trigger some sort of warm emotion from him. It did not. Instead Heeseung looked at you with disgust. An expression you had never seen from him before, at least not directed towards you.
“Did you actually think for a second that i loved you?” He spit out. The words had split your heart in two, if you had thought you were broken before you were wrong. You were shattered now a million pieces of yourself.
More laughter had filtered the room furthering your need to flee. “See?” Yeji asked the same smirk that you hated so deeply graced her face. “He just needed a quick fuck when i wasn’t around.”
“It was more than that and you know it” You said weakly. Trying your very hardest to stand your ground. You could tell it wasn’t working, if anything it was making you look more feeble. Yeji laughed again you began to wonder if that was the only thing she was capable in doing.
"Come on y/n, I know you're not that stupid. A boy like Lee Heeseung would never love someone like you. You're a complete loser." The words hurt more than you'd like to admit. You wish that you wouldn't give her the satisfaction of hurting you. She was winning this battle it was clear in the way you stood motionless. Letting her berate you as you stood there like a scared little stray dog. She was kicking you while you were down.
A sob bubbled up inside of you, pouring out of you uncontrollably no matter how much you wished to suppress it. It was no use. You were crying in front of more people than you could count. Each and every one of them reveling in your sheer humiliation.
It seemed that your body started to catch up with your mind and heart as you finally found the strength to run from the room. The sounds of the never ending laughter getting drowned out by your sobs and the hard beating of your footsteps against the school floor.
You emerged from the front doors of the school. The cold from the rain hitting your face and freezing your tears. It was mid December the bite from the cold had done nothing to calm the fiery storm that was brewing inside of you. Your mind was reeling a simmering anger boiling up within you. You hated Heeseung. And you thought that would never be possible.
You couldn't have ever imagined that there would be a time that you could hate Lee Heeseung. He had opened your world to new things, taught you so much about yourself. He had taught you to love yourself when you were at your lowest. You had showed him sides of yourself that no one had ever seen before. You had given yourself to him completely. Allowing him to take your innocence because you felt like he was trustworthy enough to do so. Because you felt like he was the most perfect person to lose it with.
You were wrong. He had used you, then left you to rot. Left you to deal with the repercussions of what you had done together, alone. He had promised you so much all of it coming to be a lie. Just like he had promised that him and Yeji weren't a couple. That obviously being proven to be a lie. As you ran to your car getting in and starting up you felt like you could never come back to this place.
You had decided to skip school for the past week, huddling up in your dorm room feigning sickness. It was clear to more than half campus what the real reason for your absence was. You had turned your phone off staying in bed day in and day out. You didn't want any contact with the outside world. The only human interaction you were getting was from your roommate, Shin Yuna. She was your saving grace, bringing you food from the cafe and forcing you to get up and shower.
She had loathed Heeseung and Yeji for what they did to you. She had half a mind to go straight to Heeseung and Beomgyu's dorm and tell Heeseung off. You had stopped her, not wanting her to fight your battles for you. No matter how much you wanted her to. You wanted to be the bigger person in this although that was very very hard.
After a week of missing class you received a email from your professor requesting your immediate presence in his next class. No questions asked, you were no longer able to hide under your covers. The real world was calling and you had to pick up unfortunately.
You woke up the day you were due to go back to work, a tight knot formed in your stomach. You weren't ready for this but it was something you had to do. After getting ready for the day just throwing on a pair of old jeans and a loose sweatshirt you had left your dorm readying yourself to take the semi-long walk to campus.
You had finally powered your phone on after it being off for a week. Tons of notifications poured through, text messages and random phone calls. Most of them from Yuna, some from your mother and siblings. A certain contact had surprised you more than the rest.
Heeseung had called you, multiple times. Your brows scrunched up in confusion. Why did he call you? He had said everything he needed to say a week ago in that classroom where he allowed his so called girlfriend humiliate you for something the both of you had participated in.
Scrolling through your text messages you noticed that he had also sent you various text messages begging you to call him back. The he needed to explain everything to you. You decided that texting back would be your best option. That telling him to fuck off and never speak to you again was the only way to get him off your back.
Y/n: Never speak to me again. Do not text me, I want absolutely nothing to do with you.
The response had came almost instantaneously, a plea from Heeseung to hear him. You scoffed at his text message deciding to block his number and continue your walk towards class. You were already not looking forward to seeing him during class today, him and Yeji were certainly both going to be there and you weren't entirely sure that you wanted to see them both.
Your plan was to lay low, get there early and keep your head down most of the day. You didn't want any unwanted attention on you, surely everyone hadn't forgotten about what had transpired a week ago. You definitely hadn't.
When you finally got to class you were relived to find that it was mostly empty. You found a spot in the way back of the class, tucking into yourself you sat down. Your glasses pushed close to your face you tried your best to appear invisible.
You didn't need Yeji, or Heeseung noticing you once they decided to get here.
The class started to fill up slowly but surely. No sign of yeji or Heeseung at all. All was going ok until you felt a presence besides you. The familiar scent of pine filling your nostrils. You went rigged in your seat.
"Y/n?" Heeseung voice whispered next to you. You turned away from him as much as you could, your heart beating wildly in your chest the anxiety you were feeling before just shot up by a tenfold.
"Y/n please can we talk?" Heeseung asked again in a low voice. He reached out a hand placing in on your elbow in a soft touch.
"No don't touch me!" You said making a show of yanking your elbow from his grip. "Don't ever fucking touch me" You spit out trying your hardest to keep your voice low as to not grow attention to yourself.
"please, we need to talk" He continued to whisper out.
"You said all you needed to say" You spit out at him. "Leave me alone." Your voice was firm with finality one that you hoped he caught onto. If he did he made no show in complying.
"This was not my fault" He said, a hint of anger in his voice.
"Not your fault?" You asked in bewilderment. Your anger was growing minute by minute and you weren't sure when you would explode. "Our entire relationship was put on display for the entire school to see, pictures of me basically naked were seen by everyone, from your phone Heeseung and you said nothing to defend me. Absolutely nothing, and you want me to hear you out? Fuck you Lee Heeseung."
Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise at the bite to your words. He was expecting you to say anything even remotely close to that. In all honestly he was expecting your forgiveness pretty easily.
"you're being ridiculous y/n" He muttered at you. Your simmering anger rose at his words. The audacity he had was truly appalling.
"How dare you?" You said exasperated. "I'm being ridiculous? Are you actually being serious right now Heeseung." You turned to look at Heeseung noting the look on his face. He looked tired and worn out, the bags under his heavy were heavy with spotted dark circles. "Go back to your girlfriend and please, please heeseung leave me alone."
"I didn't mean what I said y/n." Heeseung whispered again, almost in defeat. "I love you. And I was an idiot to say otherwise"
His words had hit you like a freight train straight to your heart. He rose from the seat besides you, going down the rows of seats and finally sitting besides a few of his friends that had trickled in.
A few times throughout the class you would notice his lingering gaze on you. Even after Yeji finally emerged, sitting down besides him with a huge smirk on her face. she ran her manicured nails up and down his arm the entire class period. Almost in a mockingly way. She took small digs at you without even looking at you one time.
It felt degrading, you felt disgusting and most of all you felt broken.
It had been a few more days since Heeseung spoke to you in class. His number stayed blocked in your phone not giving him the opportunity to talk to you. Everyday Yeji continued to subtly taunt you. She did little things like laugh out loud at any and everything Heeseung said, she loudly called him pet names and she continued to work her pesky nails all over his body. Her PDA was to the max even if most times he didn't reciprocate it.
Today had been a free day finally able to breathe and be at the dorms. Yuna was at her boyfriend Sunghoon's dorm all weekend so you had the space for yourself.
Yuna had texted you mid afternoon to check on you, making sure she didn't have to come back at all. But everything was going fine, you were huddled up on your bed, a bag of hot Cheetos next to you as you shamelessly wore Heeseung's old hoodie. You were comfortable and finally your mind wasn't plagued with the thoughts of Heeseung and yeji and what they could possibly be doing right now. Instead you were content watching your little YouTube videos alone in the comfort of your vacant dorm.
You were contently watching a YouTube video when a sharp knock was sound on your dorm room door. It made you jump in surprise not expecting a visitor. you are fairly certain it wasn't Yuna as she has key and would definitely just walk right in.
You got up from your bed hesitantly not wanting to be disturbed by people this late at night. When you opened the door you were greeted with the one person you wanted to see the least right now.
Heeseung was at your door, looking as beautiful as always in his sweat pants and plan black hoodie. You pushed your glasses up onto the bridge of your nose trying to make sure you were indeed seeing clearly and Heeseung really had the audacity to show up to your dorm.
"Why are you here?" You spit out, not in the mood to deal with his baggage.
"I needed to see you Y/n." Heeseung pleaded, he made a step towards you trying to get into the dorm. You let out a sigh, getting the impression that he was not leaving so soon. You allowed him to step inside.
"Heeseung please" You begged turning to look at the boy who broke your heart. "I'm begging you to leave me alone. You got what you wanted ok? What more do you want from me." You were pleading with him, begging him to give this up and leave you be. The damage was already done and you couldn't deal with the aftermath of what your relationship was anymore. It was way too much to bare.
"I need you to hear me out Y/n, you're not even giving me the time to explain everything" His words had made you irrationally angry. You were done letting him gas light you any further, you were about ready to speak your mind, truthfully now.
"You want me to give you the time to explain? After what you did to me? After what you allowed Yeji to do to me? I want nothing to do with you, I don't want to hear you out. I hate you" You spit the words at him like a canon, hoping it hit its mark and hurts him even a fraction of as much as he hurt you.
"You don't hate me" Heeseung said, a shadow of a smirk ghosting his lips.
"Is this funny to you? Is this all just a fucking joke to you? I was humiliated at your expense and it's one big fucking game to you." Your words had clearly made him angry, his eyebrows had a scrunch to them now.
"I didn't ask for our messages and pictures to get leaked Y/n is is just as much humiliating for me as it is for you!" His voice was raised in octave. The vein on his neck popping out just slightly and you would be lying if you didn't admit to yourself how hot it was. You scolded yourself for having that thought. Now was not the time nor place to be thinking of how hot Heeseung looked while he was angry.
"How did she even get them to begin with Heeseung, from you! You're her 'boyfriend' after all" Your volume raised just as loudly as his. Not ready to let him win this argument.
"She stole them from my phone while I was drunk at a party Y/n she took advantage of me." You rolled your eyes at his words, not believing his bullshit in the slightest.
"She's not my girlfriend y/n I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't with her." You scoffed at him, shaking your head.
"It doesn't matter-"
"It does matter y/n I love you." He spoke with fiver, like he was pleading with you to hear him.
"Stop lying to me" You whispered. "I can't take it."
"Im not lying damnit. How can I get you to understand that" No matter the desperation in his voice you felt like nothing was going to convince you that he was genuine with his words.
"No" You said standing your ground "I hate you."
Heeseung ran a hand through his hair a frustrated sigh leaving his lips once again.
"Stop saying that." He hissed out. The defiant person in you wanted to try your hardest to piss him off further. To hurt him more than he hurt you.
"I hate you." You said again. Heeseung advanced towards you pushing you against the wall in a rush. His big frame engulfed you, both arms surrounding you in a huddle.
"No you don't." His voice was raspy causing the heat between your legs to pulse just slightly. No longer were you arguing with anger, but now with lust.
A part of you was screaming at yourself to push him away, not allowing him to have even a fraction more of yourself. The other side of you was welcoming his advances, praying that sooner then later he would touch you more then he already was.
"I do." You said with a nod, the words leaving you in a single breathy whisper. "I hate you so much"
His lips were on you not even a second later attaching to yours in a rush of emotion and a blur of lust.
You gasped against his mouth giving him the leeway to dip his tongue in entangling yours in a fight for dominance.
His mouth moved from yours traveling down your neck and to your collarbone, you let out a tiny moan trying hard to suppress you noises as much as possible.
Heeseungs hand traveled up your body lazily landing on the outline of your breast in his oversized hoodie.
"You hate me but you're wearing my hoodie hmm." He said teasingly continuing to grope you over the hoodie.
"It's laundry week" You gasped out, arching your body into his. His hands traveled the expanse of your body landing in the hem of the hoodie. pushing it up and over your head to expose your name chest underneath.
Immediately Heeseung attached his mouth to your breast, licking and sucking at them with a desperation you had never seen from him before.
"Stop teasing" You whined pushing yourself further into him, grinding your lower body onto his. Your heat met the material of his sweatpants. The friction shooting a delicious surge through your body. You let out a whimper only spurring Heeseung's movements more. He sucked and licked at your breast like a mad man.
"Do you deserve it baby" He whispered detaching from your chest to say the words. His hand made its way down to your covered heat rubbing over the material of your thin biker shorts.
Your moans were high pitched exactly how you knew Heeseung loved them.
"Yes" You gasped out "I deserve it" You reached for the strings of Heeseungs sweatpants pushing them down in a feeble attempt to get him naked. Heeseung caught your wrists with his hands before lifting you up and plopping you down on the small twin sized bed in your dorm room.
He was quick in grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt lifting it over his head to expose his toned chest. Your breathing was harsh as you stared up him removing his clothing. You hurried in yanking your shorts and panties down.
The desperation for him felt palpable, a rush of emotions so hot filled your body. You wanted him badly, no, needed him badly. Soon the both of you were naked, the yearning you felt coupled with the emotion of your recent heartbreak had made all the lust that much more intense.
in the back of your mind you were kicking yourself. Scolding your heart for allowing Heeseung to have you again so intimately.
“Do you have a condom sweetheart?” Heeseung asked in his sickly sweet voice. You shook your head running your hands up and down heeseungs torso admiring the sculpture of his abs and toned forearms.
“Just pull out” You said, finally reaching his cock, grabbing it in your small hands you pumped it a few times causing a hiss of pleasure to leave his lips.
“You’re so wet” Heeseung panted attaching his fingers to your hole as you continue to stroke him lazily.
“Hurry” You pleaded looking up at him with wide eyes. Tears glistening at the anticipation of the moment. Heeseung removed your hand from his cock stroking it himself a few times before lining it at your entrance.
You held your breath at what was to come next willing yourself to relax, you had taken him plenty of times before but each time had felt like the first. With the stretch of his cock finally entering you, both heeseung and yourself let out a sigh of content. The pleasure of being filled to the brim was all consuming.
“Fuck” You squeaked out at a particularly harsh trust. Heeseungs hands held tightly onto your hips pounding into with a new found vigor. His groans of pleasure loud in your ears.
“So fucking warm” He muttered out, his head falling forward to watch where the two of you connected, the slick from your wetness causing a squelching sound to ring around the room. “You like that?”
The question was a hard one to answer, you couldn’t find words. The sounds you made growing louder and louder at every single push inside of you.
“Answer me” Heeseung growled quickening his pace. His hips now slamming into you over and over harder as his entire body dropped into yours over and over. “Does that feel fucking good?”
“Yes!” You gasped reaching your arms out and hooking them behind his head. “So fucking good. don’t stop” You yanked Heeseungs head down to your breasts. His lips reattaching to the perked nubs of your nipples.
“Tell me you love me” Heeseung whispered against your breast that he was currently latched to. The words didn’t register in your mind. You’re head filled with the feeling of him inside of you. You didn’t answer, instead letting out breathy moans at the continuous slam of his hips against yours.
Heeseungs grip on your hips tightened. His head rising from your chest to look at you. His hips stop, keeping his tight grip on your hips he punctuated his next few words with a slam inside of you. “Tell” slam “me” slam “you” slam “love” slam “me”.
Your mind was a frenzy, completely fucked out you whisper “I hate you.” Which only fueled Heeseungs need to be rough further. His hand creeped up to your neck squeezing just enough to make you see stars.
“No you don’t” He cooed continuing his relentless thrusts. “You love me. now fucking say it” You were stubborn you would try everything not to say it.
You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of you saying it. So instead you moaned out his name, something you knew for certain was a big weakness for him.
Praising him until he was so fucked out he forgot what he was asking of you. It was a manipulation tactic. You realized that but even in your lust filled daze you knew you could not give him the satisfaction of saying those three words.
“I’m gonna cum” You wheezed arching into Heeseung with your entire body. He nodded in a frenzy curses leaving his beautiful parted lips in a mantra. “Me too baby” He moaned out.
His hand traveled down landing on your bundle of nerves, circling his fingers over your clit furthering the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter ready to snap at any given moment.
You were in ecstasy the need to explode with pleasure growing more as he continued to trust into you at a brutal pace. The movement of his fingers on your clit coupled with constant slam of his hips against yours pushed you over the edging sending you hurtling to your release.
“Fuck fuck fuck” You squeaked out. Convulsing around Heeseings cock causing his breathing to quicken and become heavier.
“I’m gonna cum” He whined pushing a few more times inside of you before pulling out. He stroked his cock a few times allowing the spurts of cum to land over your stomach and breasts.
You took a moment to compose yourself, Heeseung calming his breathing from his position on top of you.
The clarity of the situation ran into you like a truck. The shame you felt quickly after the ecstasy of the moment was palpable. You quickly got up skipping to your bathroom to rid yourself of his spend all over your body. The tears in your eyes spilling out and over the apples of you cheeks.
“Y/n?” Heeseung asked knocking on the door of the bathroom. His voice laced with concern no doubt reading your distraught state.
“Please go” You whispered “We shouldn’t have done that” You stood naked in your bathroom against the door unable to will yourself to open it. You didn’t want to see Heeseungs face. You didn’t want to face the magnitude of what you had just done.
“What Y/n-“
“Go! Get out!” You screamed finally opening the door. Heeseung was dressed again. The look on his face shown one of pure confusion and panic. But you didn’t care. You needed him out. You wanted to scream, rip your hair out, trash your room, anything. He just needed to be gone.
“Get out!” You said again, Heeseung reached for you but you pulled away quick enough that he wasn’t able to make contact with your body. You reached your dorm room door in a blur opening it and pointing outside. “Go or i’ll scream and wake up this entire fucking floor.”
“I’ll be back” Heeseung said. You slammed the door before allowing yourself to fall against it. Sobs Racking your body as you brought your knees to your chest.
In truth you had felt filthy. You had loved Heeseung, that was a sad fact but you knew with absolute certainty that he did not love you like he claimed to. You cursed yourself for allowing him to have you in such an intimate way after what had transpired. Your mind racing with what will happen after this.
Will he tell Yeji? Will she have more fuel to torture you with. You weren’t sure you wanted to deal with the repercussions of what you both had just done. Your heart was in the pit of your stomach as you continued to sob on the floor of your dorm room, completely naked.
The next few days flew by the a blur. You continued your day to day life attending classes and hanging out with Yuna. Oddly enough Heeseung hadn’t been to class in days. You hadn’t seen him since the night you kicked him out of your dorm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried about him wondering what was stopping him from coming to class.
Yeji had showed up everyday. Still flaunting Heeseung as much as she could even in his absence. She would talk about him loudly, claiming that they had gone on dates or went to parties. You scoffed at all her intentions of riling you up.
You hated her. That much was a fact, but you wouldn’t allow her to see the effect she really had on you.
Today had been a particularly rainy day. One that had immediately put a huge damper on your mood. Class had felt like a chore walking from class to class becoming increasingly more tiring by the second.
As you were walking to your dorm excited for the long tiring day to be over a buzz from your phone took you out of your train of thought.
Yuna was calling you. You answered the phone “Hey Yuna-“
“Come to the cafe NOW!” She rushed into the phone. “What-?” You were cut off by her yelling into the phone again “Now Y/n!”
The line went dead signaling her hanging up on you. In confusion you rushed to the cafe on campus, a place everyone who was anyone hung out.
When you arrived at the cafe you noticed a considerable large crowd forming. You looked around trying to find a glimpse of Yuna in this massive crowd.
Pushing your way through the people you noticed the multiple eyes folllwing you, watching you like hawk with their prey.
Finally getting to the front of the crowd your eyes caught a huge sign, one that usually hung in front of the cafe lighting up the specials, but today it was different. Today instead of the being lights displaying the daily specials it said one little sentence.
“I love you Y/n. Shouting from the rooftops - You’re heeseung” It was a simple message, but the impact was grand.
He was proclaiming himself to you. In front of the entire campus, in front of Yeji herself. She stood there looking up at the sign angrily. Heeseung sat still next to the sign. His eyes on you and only you.
“What the fuck” Yeji spit out, eyes searching wildly probably looking for you in the sea of people. “Heeseung what is this?” She screeched out her voice like nails on a fucking chalkboard.
“I’m done letting you ruin my life Yeji.” Heeseung spoke, eyes still on yours. “We aren’t together, we never were together. I love Y/n”
Your heart felt as if it were beating a million miles per minute, pounding at your chest yearning to burst out. Heeseung was making a grand gesture, and although you both had alot to talk about and it didn’t erase the hurt he had caused he was making a big effort. He was making it known that he chooses you.
Yeji was red with anger turning on her heels and rushing out of the crowd the eyes of everyone around us watching her meltdown front and center. You were sure she wasn’t done here but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care what she had planned next. Your only thoughts were occupied by Heeseung and what he was saying right here right now.
You walked up to him slowly, trying to savor the moment as much as you could. The crowd still watching your every movement. Usually that would be a pretty awkward thing but you honestly couldn’t care less.
“Heeseung-“
“i’m not ashamed of you.” He said cutting you off “I love you, and i want everyone to know. I don’t care what people think. I’m done letting someone like Yeji dictate my life i want to be with you.” He spoke with vigor, trying his hardest to get his point across. You could have sworn you had hearts in your eyes. Your heart swelling with pride for the man that stood in front of you.
“You’re not fully forgiven” You spoke softly “But i love you too.” His eyes lit up at your declaration “So i’m willing to try-“
You barely got the words out before his lips were on yours. Attaching to you like he would never let you go, and honestly you really hope he wouldn’t.
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strip for me.
part five | lhs.
pairings: hyungline x reader
synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.
wc: 8k
warnings: smut, minors dni, fivesome, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, raw sex (please use protection), dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.
note: lee heeseung’s solo part. next one will be jay’s. thank you so much for supporting my works and loving strip for me series. also, this doesn’t have heavy smut since i want to show the boy’s affection with reader outside the bed even more. anyway, reblogs and replies are highly encouraged.
part one; two; three; four
slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.
you got sick the day after. maybe because your body got overwhelmed and didn’t expect that kind of activity. they let you rest for as long as you like until you finally regained your senses.
it was almost 10 pm when heeseung drove you home. both of you silent throughout the drive. heeseung’s glancing at you from time to time, but you refused looking at him.
your mom isn’t really skeptical about it. its also a good thing that she didn’t wonder why the hell did you get sick the day after because you have no idea what will you tell her.
today’s saturday. you skipped school yesterday and just laid on your bed the whole time.
your mind is still occupied by the big question: ‘what are you for those boys?’
they did took care of you that definitely ruin the whole concept of you being their toy and made you confused. the switch up is totally odd as well. they’re always so rude and harsh towards you, then suddenly they went soft and gentle.
that tho, didn’t change the fact that you felt used. (name)’s words kept repeating inside your mind like a broken radio.
a faint knock on your bedroom door snaps you out of you thoughts.
“y/n?” its your mom. “you have visitors. your friends are here.” she announced that draws your brows together.
“friends?” you’re beyond confuse.
nobody ever visited you, and more importantly, what friends? while feeling a little disoriented, you forced yourself out of the bed then faced the mirror once.
the smile on your mother’s face is bright, looking so delighted. she feels excited by this visit she’s referring to, you can tell by how she ushered you down the staircase.
“mom, wait.” you tried calming her down because you can’t think properly on who those friends she’s talking about.
“come on! they’re waiting.” and finally, you made it to the last step then she almost drag you to the spacious living room.
your lips gapped when you saw them dominates the sofa set by the middle. its just the four of them but it seem too crowded. maybe because they’re all so tall and now the average looking sofa looks a bit small for them.
they all whipped their heads on your direction the moment you stepped inside. you cannot exactly tell the look on their faces. your mom smiles and tugs your arm lightly.
“they said they’ve been worried, sweetie. why didn’t you told them that you’re sick?” she pouts.
you blinked, pushing the tears back inside your eyes. its a bit annoying. how you planned to ignore them after what happened and now you can feel your heart warms up just by seeing them here. how all the courage to finally end it dissipates along with your anger for the four fine men in front of you.
its kind of sickening. you find yourself pathetic for actually letting them affect you this way. they make you feel worthless, but at the same time they’re the only ones who can make you feel special.
“i’m s-sorry, it slipped off my mind.” you sniffed and tried to hide the real emotion through a half-smile.
your mom totally bought that reason. she hums and then she can hear a faint ringing from the other side of the house.
“oh! that must be my workmate. i’ll leave you guys here, okay? i will order food for you guys.” she coos and then exits the living room, leaving you alone with them.
their eyes settles at you, flashing with an foreign look on it. that made you feel uneasy so you glanced away.
“sweets,” jake was the first one to approach you closer, reaching for your arm.
his heart sank when you yank it back, declining his affection. he looks surprised and he wanted to try again, but he doesn’t want to push it.
“why are y-you here?” your voice cracks and looked at them one by one.
jay looks concerned, heeseung have his usual calm composure and sunghoon’s brows are furrowed. you can’t tell if he’s mad or worried. he stood up, stopping himself to advance towards you. he doesn’t want to scare you.
“we just want to check on you...” sunghoon says in his softest tone. he licked his lips, blinking multiple times to try and calm himself.
your view of sunghoon got covered when jake steps closer, his brows furrowed hardly and eyes glistening with sadness. his hand hangs mid way, attempting to get in touch of you, craving it.
“we got worried when you skipped class yesterday. we tried to call you, sweetheart.” jake looks desperate. it slightly broke your heart seeing him this way. his mischievous smile long gone.
“but you ignored all of us...” it was jay who talked this time.
you gave him a short glance. the stare stays for a while before you pursed your lips to sigh heavily. chest tightens and mind all messed up.
“what happened, sweets?” jake steps closer.
out of all of them, he’s the most touch deprived. one day without you and he’s all over the place. not to mention that you’ve been ignoring all of them. none of their attempts to contact you became successful and its sending him in distress.
you glanced at him then took a step backward. it pinned him on his position, eyes blank. jake looks in pain, but you looked much worst.
heeseung may seem calm, but behind this composed demeanour is his mind being a mess. he’s in panic. he never seen you this way and honestly he’s not prepared. he gulps and tries to gather himself.
“jake...” he calls his friend to stop him from advancing more.
as expected, he didn’t listen and attempts to take another step but a tear escaping your eye is what halts him from doing so. they never seen you this bothered and terrified before.
“sweets...” jake almost chokes on air when he softly tries to call you.
“p-please leave.” your breaths heavy, and chest painful from thinking that you’ll be ending what you have with them
its messed up. its very wrong. the set up is fucked up, but you can’t deny that you’ve gained more than you lost from this—whatever you call this.
it may sound exaggerated, but you think you saw all of their faces lose color. their eyes flickers fear and shoulders hangs low after hearing what you said.
“s-sweets...” jake’s voice cracks, trying to earn some sympathy. he never done that. he isn’t someone so weak. he always know where he stand and his power he holds over people. but not at the moment, specially not in front of you.
heeseung clenches his jaw to hide his trembling lips. he unclasped his fist, realizing he’s been doing that ever since you’ve walked inside the room.
jay’s in shambles. he doesn’t know what to feel at the moment. he’s always been the nonchalant one. never shown that there’s a weak spot in him. but now that you seem to be slipping away from him, he’s lost. he can feel his heart aching, hands shaking and breaths shorten.
sunghoon’s silent. his eyes never left you, fists balled tightly. he’s cursing himself. for being so ruthless and aggressive. he’s blaming it all to him and his friends. they’re so selfish. and you’re just too perfect. you did nothing wrong. it was all on them.
“y/n,” heeseung licks his lips and this time he trudges closer. jake glances at him, eyes full of hope. maybe his heeseung hyung can fix this mess. he can, right? that’s what echoes inside his mind.
“angel...” he gulps and you noticed how he’s a little off right now. he’s far from the reserve and calm, heeseung you’re used to.
he looks... anxious. the fear and trepidation flashes clearly through his eyes. something you’ve never seen before.
“tell me what’s wrong, hmm? we’ll talk about it.” he says using his calmest tone. “we’ll figure things out.”
that caught you off-guard. if there’s something about these four men have in common is that they love being in control of you. they get off seeing fear and watching you submit to them.
so to hear him saying those words are new for you. talk? will they really listen? what if they just laugh at you if you opened it up to them.
those questions clouded your mind to the point that you didn’t notice jake approaching closer. heeseung wanted to stop him, but he knew there’s no preventing jake from getting close. its either he lets him or he’ll completely lose it.
jake’s warm hands wraps over your wrist is what snaps you back in to your senses.
“sweets...” he calls you. his eyes scanned your face and wait if you’ll resist his affection once again.
he gulps, hope igniting when you didn’t shove his hold off. he took a step closer and this time cups your face. your cheeks warm that sent comfort to jake.
“tell us what’s wrong...” he whispers, pleading. he rest his forehead on top of yours and shut his eyes. “please.” he added.
that made you cry. because you got scared. you’re afraid to confront them because it may end everything.
“what a-am i to you, really?” you started that caught them off-guard.
“y-you guys...” they kept their stares right at your face, waiting attentively to what you’re about to say.
“you treat me like a toy. you’re playing with me like as if i d-don’t have feelings.”
if the scene moments ago hurts them, then this surely broke everything in them. they were silent for a while. reflecting to all the things they’ve done so far to you. yes, they were a little less insolent the other day, but what they did to you probably made you misunderstand it.
jake was the first one to retract, “what? no, sweetheart.” he licks his lips and cares your cheeks gently. he shakes his head continuously.
“we...” he gulps, nervous. he locks his gaze at you and softens, tears brimming his eyes. “i love you.” he blurted out that made you hitch your breath.
that obviously is not what you expected to get from him. specially from jake. he’s the player, always have girls around him. you’ve never heard him say those words to anyone.
your eyes stares right at his desperate ones, trying to search for any traces of mischief over them. but none. sincerity and desperation is all you can see through them.
a warm hand rests at the small of your back then someone rests his forehead at the side of your head. his familiar manly scent invades your nose.
jay’s eyes are tightly closed when you try to glance at him. his jaw clenched hard as his hand bore onto your back.
“i’m sorry if you misunderstood us, baby. that’s not how we want things to escalate.” he mumbles so softly. nuzzling close to you, like as if it will help ease those pain away.
it made you sob. heeseung approaches and his friends gave space for him. he grabs one of your hand and caress it. while staring at your eyes, he placed a gentle kiss on it while the other two boys tries to hugs you. jake’s got his face buries on the crook of your neck, jay remains standing beside you.
“i’m sorry, angel. we...” he couldn’t continue right away. he gulps. “we didn’t know this is how you feel.”
tears streams down your face. continuously. and your chest aches, but this time its for a different reason. you didn’t expect any of these. you imagined them scoffing and laughing at you for actually catching feelings for them. they basically mistreated you.
jake tightens his hug on you, refusing to let go. his warmth envelopes you. jay has his hand placed at the small of your back, caressing it up and down. heeseung has your hand, kissing it from time to time.
the three of them whispered their sorries. they totally feel bad. as your eyes roams around, it caught sunghoon’s.
he’s still standing at his place. didn’t move a step. he’s just there, watching all of this unfold. his heart aches, that’s for sure. he wanted to come close to you too just like how his friends are trying to console you, but his feet are stoned.
he cannot do it. he’s afraid.
out of all of them, he’s the meanest. he says the most hurtful and degrading words towards you. of course, he meant none of them. he’s just caught up in the moment and to the thought of dominating you.
his heart drops at the sight of your tear stained eyes. all those times he’s been rough on you flashes back through his mind like a montage. he hates it. he hates himself.
heeseung whips his head back to look over his shoulder. he can see how sunghoon has his fists balled. how he looked scared. he’s never seen him this way.
“dude.” he calls.
jake lifts his head to look at his friend, jay’s watching too. sunghoon kept silent, his lips shaken.
“h-hoon?” you called him out, now starting to feel worried by how he’s acting.
sunghoon’s eyes stings as it heats up. he knew he’s tearing up, but he won’t let you see him shed tears. not because he’s trying to mask it ouy, but 'cause he knew it will make you even sadder. he’s scared that he will cause more damage.
his eyes met his heeseung hyung and he nods with a small encouraging smile. the four of them grew up together. they’ve known each other their whole life, so he knew why sunghoon’s not approaching.
its not because he’s mad. he’s being careful. and sunghoon’s never been like this towards someone.
sunghoon gulps then take small courageous steps. your eyes watch him carefully, waiting patiently.
when he’s steps away from you, his eyes softens and you saw how his hand trembles when he lifts it to touch you. he backs out, hesitating to lay his hand on you.
“i’m sorry.” he says in a low voice.
it was such a short sentence but the amount of emotion his eyes shows is enought to let you know that he has so many more that he wants to say.
your eyes scanned his face. slowly, you laid your hand out for him. its a way to let him know that its fine and that you allow him to touch you.
his eyes darts at it. he contemplates, but eventually reaches out. your warm hands sent comfort to sunghoon’s cold ones. it gave him life.
“i’m sorry, pretty. w-we’re really sorry.” he mumbles as he buries his face on your neck. his big figure almost covers you up from heeseung’s perspective.
they watch silently. thankful that you’re just too nice to even let them be this close to you. they exchange look to each other and knew they had to do something to make it up to you.
“forgive us, angel. we’ll do better from now on.” heeseung says and rest his big hands on your hip.
you looked at him and kept silent.
honestly, you’ve been thinking of ending it between them. the amount of stress and overthinking you’ve been going through because of them was unhealthy. you promised that after confronting them and if they confirmed that they’re just here for the fun, you’ll bolt out.
but... this is totally a big turn of events.
your lips stretched a little. a subtle gentle smile, but still visible to their eyes are what relieved them.
“okay.”
jake rushes closer and kisses your cheeks multiple times. “really, sweets? thank you! i love you!” he excitedly mumbled between his kisses.
you felt sunghoon’s big strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist.
“thanks, baby. we will try our best.” jay caught your attention when he rest his hand on top of your head, giving it light taps.
the corner of his lips lifts before leaning to kiss you on the lips. “i love you.” he whispers, like he doesn’t want the other boys to hear. like it was only meant for you.
jake steps in, the sulky boy in him coming out. “kiss me on the lips too!” he argues and pouts his plump lips.
jay snorted and swat his arms. you chuckles and lets him lean in for a swift kiss. his eyes sparkling after that smooch.
heeseung’s hands digs on your hip as he leans silently to drop a kiss on your lips. it was soft and lasts for a few seconds. when he pulls away, he remains close and smiles.
“thank you, angel. we’ll be good boyfriends. right?” he says and looks at his friends which they responded with nods.
you blushed, “b-boyfriends?” surprised.
heeseung smirks then nods, “you’re our girl.” he pinches your cheeks lightly. “not some toy.”
sunghoon places a kiss on your neck then pulls away. his eyes bores to you. they glisten affection and relief.
“our pretty girl.” he whispers and dips his head to give you a feathery hot kiss on the lips.
your eyes opens when he pulls away.
“we need to work on our issues in order for this to work. we don’t want another misunderstanding like this.” heeseung announces.
“do you have anything else you don’t like, angel? except from us being total assholes...” he cleared his throat.
your mind wonders. “i d-didn’t like what we did the last time. its o-overwhelming...”
they all looked at you with cute eyes then jay chuckles. “i mean she did passed out that time. her stamina couldn’t handle it.” he says.
heeseung nods, “at least we get to try it once, right?” he smirks, the memories of the night still lingers to his mind.
you blushed and glanced away.
“is that all, angel?”
you look back at heeseung and nodded.
“please stop being aggressive.” you reminded, ears turning red.
they almost cooed at how adorable you looked.
“we promise.” they say almost in unison then approaches for a group hug with you in the middle, making sure they aren’t squishing you too much.
“but we can still do threesome, right?” jake asks innocently that made all of you whip your heads at his direction.
“jake!” they all hissed at him for still being horny despite the wholesome situation that only made you chuckle.
“hi!” you shyly greets when you saw heeseung outside of your house, leaning over his black audi.
its monday morning and you’re beyond surprise to receive a text message from him saying he’ll be picking you up for school. of course you got excited. this will be the first time.
“good morning, beautiful.” he smirks and snakes his arms around your waist to pull you closer.
your cheeks blushed at his words then stomach churns when he leans in for a kiss. it seems so natural. like this is your usual morning routine.
“get in.” he instruct and even open the door for you.
once inside, he swiftly walks around to ride the driver’s seat. then off you go. it was a short drive, but it isn’t awkward. heeseung’s asking questions from time to time to start a conversation while a low music plays on his radio.
the moment his car enters the parking area designated for the students, you saw familiar boys. jay’s leaning over his car while jake and sunghoon bickers about something.
“oh they’re early.” you mumble because usually you arrive first.
heeseung’s always on time since he’s the school’s president. jay and jake arrives at school just on time. sunghoon’s the one always late, unless he have his morning practices.
their heads whips at your direction once they heard the familiar blaring of heeseung’s car. jake turns his back over hoon then waves like an excited puppy. he for sure cannot see you yet as the car is heavily tinted, but it made you smile. he’s so cute.
he’s on your side of the door once heeseung’s done parking it. he waits until the car’s unlocked and then open it for you.
“sweetheart!” he greets happily then hugs you.
heeseung shakes his head while smirking then unclasped your seatbelt for you as you’re busy greeting jake, returning his hug.
jay and sunghoon walks closer as well then hoon went to grab your things from the backseat. he naturally carries it, letting one strap hangs on his arm.
“hey, baby.” jay greets and placed a kiss on your cheek.
“hi jay.”
“i arrived earlier than both of them!” jake interrupts, proudly letting you know how he’s very punctual today.
“wow, that’s great jakey.” you complimented him and his eyes sparkles.
“yeah, right. you’re so childish.” sunghoon commented before leaning towards you for his kiss.
all of you walks on the hallways together. sunghoon and heeseung’s is a few steps ahead while jake’s beside you telling you about his dog. even showing you her cute pictures and bragging how she’s the smartest dog ever. which sunghoon quickly argues that his dog is much better.
jay’s on your other side, silently listening to his friend’s playful banters. he’s very used to it already and slowly, you too.
curious eyes follows the five of you. there’s a hint of surprise and judgment through them. some are whispering, some just stares with mouth slightly gapped and others just don’t care.
honestly, it bothers you. their eyes carefully watching you is making you uneasy. it felt so weird being watched that it makes you wonder how these boys got used to this.
jake’s warm hand envelops yours that caught your attention. he smiles, his red plump lips distracting you.
“don’t mind them, sweets. they’re just jealous.” he whispers, eyes staring straight at yours.
with blushing cheeks, you blinked twice. “w-why? because i’m with you guys?”
he shakes his head and leans closer, his lips grazing your ears that made your stomach drop. “because you’re ours.”
to say that your face turns red is an understatement. your heart races and he just winks then continues talking about other things.
when you arrived at the classroom, they’re all looking curiously. wondering why these boys are acting this way around you. as far as they remember, they used to bully you around. basically why you end up becoming a loner.
“here, pretty.” sunghoon says and placed your things at the side of the chair. you thanked him and he just smiled before walking to his seat.
jay and heeseung did the same but jake remains near you, pouting hardly.
“can’t i move seats?” he complains.
you chuckle and cares his arm, “go to your seat now, jakey.”
he sighs and wants to lean to give a kiss but stops himself. you did talked about them not to do pda in public or at least when around a lot of people. not everyone is open for this kind of relationship, you just don’t want any issues.
“jake, stop being sulky and sit down.” jay calls him then rolls his eyes.
the said boy just raises his fist and showed his middle finger to his friend. you chuckled and just sat down so jake can go to his chair.
eventually, the homeroom teacher walks inside for morning reminders. she mentioned the upcoming fieldtrip which slightly riles you up. you’re excited to go at the museums and such.
during the breaktime, the boys accompanied you. sunghoon and jake to be specific. the other two are busy on student council so its just the three of you.
“what do you want to eat, doll?” sunghoon asks while pulling a chair for you.
jake’s playing with the edge of your hair while watching you carefully.
“anything is fine.”
hoon nods once, “i’ll order for you.”
“thank you, hoon.” with a smile.
he smirks then squeezed your hand before walking off. jake and you sat down at the table.
“did heeseung hyung told you already?” he starts.
“about?”
“he’s taking you out on a date later.” he says casually while doing something to his phone. his forehead narrows, very focus.
“a d-date?”
he hums, answering your question with a short nod. he’s not looking at you, still hooked to his phone. “where?”
he shrugs, “have no idea.”
your heart hammered just by the thought of going on a date with thee lee heeseung. yes, they did said that they’ll make it up to you and that confirmed your relationship with them, but sometimes it still don’t sink in.
they’re your boyfriends...
your eyes caught the glimpse of what jake’s doing and you got distracted. its a picture of you. that was the first time you saw it.
“is that me?”
jake whips his head at you then smiled, “yes! i’m putting you as my wallpaper.” then he clicked something before locking it and opening the screen to show you.
its a candid picture of you. you forgot when it was, but it was obvious that you’re unaware of him taking that photo. you’re focused on something.
“beautiful, isn’t it?” his smug smirk looked adorable. he cocked his eyebrow once, smirking wider. “that’s my girlfriend.”
you blushed even harder. “stop it.”
he chuckled, finding you adorable. instead of stopping, he stared more intensely making you even more flustered.
“j-jake..” and you glance away.
“fine, i’ll stop.” finally, he glances away, his big grin not wiping off.
sunghoon arrives afterwards and the three of you enjoys the time together before going back to your class.
during your vacant, some of your classmates are doing random things inside the room. you find it a waste to just do nothing and remembered about the history assignment.
you stood up and instantly, four heads whips at your direction. when the bell rang and one of the students announced that it was your vacant, they all naturally gathered around you.
“where are you going?” they almost ask at the same time.
“a-at the library.” you answered, shy that all of their attention is now directed at you. its slowly becoming a habit, but that’s something you will never get used to.
“i’ll go with you.” heeseung was quick to stand up and fix his uniform slightly before carding his soft black hair once.
you gulped, “o-okay...” and your eyes dropped at the three boys who remains sitting down.
sunghoon smiles, “see you later, doll. i’m sleepy.” he reasons then leans over his table.
jay just smiled. jake have this pout on his lips. “i really want to co—” his words got interrupted when jay covered his mouth.
“shut up.”
heeseung covers your line of sight from them then flashes this soft smile. “let’s go?” he says and just like being hypnotized by his gaze, you nod your head.
heeseung ushered you to the library, asking what you’re going there for. once informed about the assignment, he said that he’s already finished with his so he’ll just help you.
you can’t help but to be at awe for this man. can he be more perfect? he’s good in everything.
he find you guys a vacant table and asked you to sit down. he said he will look for the book he used and you thanked him. it didn’t took long before you saw him walking back with a handful of books. strangely, he fits this image well.
you’re in complete trance when he walked closer then placed it on the table. he then started pointing the references he used and told you that you can gather information from those articles then summarize it to your own words.
that was plenty for you. considering it will save you time doing this assignment. with a small smile you thank him then proceed on focusing on the task. heeseung sat beside you and watch how your brows draws closer.
his grin grew wider and fingers starting playing through his lower lip. his stares never left you then it slowly trailed down from your brows to your nose and then lips. those damn lips...
he inhaled and licked his lip, cleared his throat in the most silent way.
now, he went here with you with the most genuine intention of helping you. but then his thoughts are starting to wonder into something... inappropriate.
you did said that you only disapprove of them being mean and aggressive, right? being horny is not mentioned. so you probably won’t mind if he fingers you knuckle deep right now.
god, just by thinking of it, heeseung’s already salivating.
besides, its not his fault that you look so innocent and very pretty looking all serious.
he rests his hand on your thigh that made you jolt in surprise. you blinked twice then turns your head at his direction. he’s giving you this lazy look while biting over his lips.
your chest hammered and stomach churns when he started caressing your thighs gently. making sure you can feel his rough palms rubbing against your exposed skin.
“h-heeseung...”
he raised an eyebrow, “yes, angel?” he asks innocently like as if he’s not doing trailing his hands upwards into your inner skirt.
“w-we’re in the library...” and you roam your eyes trying to check if there’s people near enough to get suspicious of what’s going on under the table.
“exactly. go study.” he says with a grin.
“w-what are you doing? they might see—”
“shh, don’t worry. just be a good girl and do your assignment, okay?” and he leans to drop a kiss on the side of your head, ushering you to continue doing your work.
after staring at him for a while and realizing he ain’t going to stop, you decided to just go with it. besides, you can’t hide the arousing feeling that slowly poisoning your whole system. your head starting to get fuzzy, core getting wet as he started to trace the line of your pussy.
you hummed, teeth sunk onto your lower lip in attempt to stop any moans that wants to come out. “ungh,”
he chuckles sexily, “try to be quiet. we’re at the library after-all.” he whispered.
he pulls his hand out then gave it a lick before dipping it back in. “open your legs for me, please.” he demanded in a very soft tone.
you’re already in deep thoughts, unable to even respond properly and just obliged his dirty desires. once he have a better access, heeseung pushes your underwear to touch you bare.
his fingers are hot and rough. feels so good. he started on your clit, rubbing it in a very delicious way.
“fuck, you’re so wet.” he curses, enjoying how your face contorts out of pleasure. pleasure that he’s currently giving you.
“h-hee..” you calls him.
he smirks, loving the way you’re so needy for his fingers.
“all right, i'm going in angel. focus on your assignment.” he stated like as if its even possible to do that. but you tried to pull yourself together. heaved a sigh then looked at the books in front of you. none of the words made sense, but that’s not important.
your mouth slightly gaps as he inserted one finger inside you. the stretch felt so good it makes you want to moan loudly.
“shh.” he reminded, chuckling.
he’s enjoying it. he’s loving it as much as you’re loving being finger fucked.
he didn’t stopped and put another finger. he let it rest inside, trying to take time feeling your tightness around his long fingers. he wants to imagine it to be his dick and he bet it will feel heaven. he shove that thought right away, he needs to focus on you.
“you’re so tight around me, angel.” he whispered huskily. “even after being fucked by all of us, you’re still so fucking tight.” he started talking in nasty way.
the way he say it in a calm tone just hits in a different way. you gulped and breath out, calming yourself.
“p-please.”
he smirks and gave you another kiss on the side of your head. he started moving his fingers that almost sent your soul out of your body. the way his fingers moved in and out in your tight hole just feels perfect.
he continues, slowly catching his pace that just added to your pleasure. one of your hand grips over his thighs, squishing it that he quickly find adorable.
“how i wish its my tongue inside that hole, angel.” he says that he truly means.
you whimpered lowly and tried to keep your eyes open. the words on the book starting to became blurry. it went on for a while until you feel a knot forming on your stomach. a sign that you’re already close.
“heeseung...” you calls out.
he chuckles then rutt his fingers even faster making you whimper softly. you glance at him and he already knew that you’re close. from the way your eyes are half-lidded and teeth digging unto your lips, you are definitely about to release.
he fucks deeper and just a few moments after you came to his fingers, head hanging low and grip over his thighs tightening. you shake lightly that made him chuckle, leaning his head closer to kiss you by the head.
“you did so well.” he complimented then kept on thrusting in and out in a slow pace, helping you ride your high.
once you calmed down, he pulls it out making you wine. he stares at you then shamelessly took his fingers over his lips to suck it. your eyes grew and cheeks blushed hardly.
“heeseung!”
he smirks, “i deserve a reward, don’t you think?” then he winks at you making you lose your mind. he’s going to be the death of you.
“bye baby.” jay smiles and kisses you gently before moving away to give way for sunghoon. he’s already holding his helmet by one of his hand.
“bye, pretty.” he says with a playful grin over you.
you smiled before pouting, “please drive safely.”
his eyes soften after what you said and leans in again for another kiss. “i will, i promise.”
you nodded and a sulking jake came into your view.
“bye sweets.” he says half-heartedly that made you chuckle then insisted for a kiss just to ease his bad mood.
sunghoon rolls his eyes then grabbed his sulking friend by his uniform and drag him out of there. jake complains and started to argue, but jay helped to drag him away.
heeseung sighs and snaked his arm over your waist, “let’s go?”
you glance at him then nod your head once before going to his car. he opened the door like always and guides your inside.
“where are we going?”
he glances, “i’m taking you to our small vacation house by the lake.” he smiles.
you smiled back, “hmm. okay.”
“i called your mom and told her i’ll get you home a little late.”
“you called her?” you’re surprised he even remembered telling it to her.
“yes. i don’t want her to be worried or get you in trouble.” he says while eyes fixed at the road.
you pout your lips and looked at more with so much adoration. that was so sweet of him. you can feel your heart races and butterflies going crazy inside your stomach.
heesueng notices your stares and chuckles, “why?”
you shake your head, “its just you’re so sweet. it makes my heart melt.”
his smile grew wider, totally proud that he made you feel more special.
“anything for you.”
he said it will took a bit time to get there so you guys went to drive thru so he can buy some food you can eat while on the way. while on the way, you naturally fall into conversations, giggling and teasing each other.
it feels so good. heeseung used to be very intimidating for you. his serious demeanor and the way he seems so calm about everything just makes you feel agitated around him. but eventually, he starts to feel warm. like someone you can entrust yourself fully. they all feel that way, honestly. but heeseung’s the most reliable one, you must admit.
when he noticed your eyelids looking heavier, he chuckles and told you that you can sleep for a while.
“but how about you?” feeling a little bad that you’ll leave him driving.
he smiles assuringly, “i’ll be fine, angel.”
and with that you slowly dozed off. he lets you sleep until you’re already pulling over the driveway of their small vacation house. its not particularly small. its actually above average, but maybe for people like him who probably have many vacation houses, this is small for him.
“careful.” he mumbled and quickly reaches for your hand when the rocky path greets you.
the house is very cozy and simple. the clear view of the lake can be seen from the big glass windows. it was beautiful.
“you can go roam around while i set our food inside the fridge.” heeseung says then kisses you at the head before heading to the kitchen.
your eyes wanders around with curiosity and admiration. everything looks expensive. your eyes darted at the table filled with picture frames. with full curiosity, your feet trudges closer.
“wow...” was the first word that came out from your mouth. you can see pictures of their family. his dad and mom. him and his older brother.
“cutie!” you exclaimed when you saw heeseung’s baby picture. he does resembles him that you can tell right away that it was him.
your smiling ear to ear then fished your phone to take a snap of that pic. after getting satisfied with your shots, you slowly head over the small balcony where you can see the lake.
“wow, its so refreshing.” you mumble under your breath then leaned over the railings, letting the wind blow onto you.
you jolted when a pair of arms wrapped over your waist. “enjoying the view?”
“y-yes.”
heeseung kisses your cheeks then place his chin on your shoulder. the two of you admired the view while holding that position. the breeze is kind of cold, but heeseung’s hug kept you warm.
“do you want to walk around for a bit before we start dinner?” he asks then finally pulls away.
your eyes sparkles, “yes!”
he chuckles, finding you adorable then leans down. “give me a kiss first.”
your cheeks blushed then blinked twice. the two of your stares at each other for a while until you decided to give in to his request. a big satisfied smile spread across his handsome face then stand back up.
“let’s go.” and he intertwined your fingers.
looking at the lake in a much nearer distance gave you comfort and peace. you never thought watching the soft currence while holding heeseung’s warm hands can make your heart race.
“do you know when i started liking you?” heeseung breaks the silence.
you craned your neck to glance at him, eyes flashing curiosity. “when?”
he stares at your for a while before chuckling lightly then pinching your cheeks.
“you look adorable, but i have to resist. come on, try to guess.”
his compliment and how he said that using his softest tone soothes something in your heart. it made you blush instantly. despite all of it, you tried to guess like how he requested.
“when you started this thing with me?” that was the first one that came in your mind.
you barely remember any interaction with lee heeseung before all of this.
his brows narrowed, “this thing?” he sighs. “relationship, angel. that’s how you call it properly.” he says using a salty tone.
you chuckled and just nods as acknowledgement. he kept his stares, his eyes returning to being gentle and full of affection. a small genuine smile then appears over his lips.
heeseung’s out of words to describe how precious you are for him. he’s usually good on saying the things he wanted to say, but with you his thoughts are starting to be messed up. there’s just so much he wanted to say yet he don’t know where to start.
“it was on seventh grade.” he stated that made your lips gap.
7th grade? but you’re already on eleventh grade. still surprised, you cannot say anything.
“during that time i experienced my first loss. it may be nothing for a normal high-school kid, but for someone who comes from a perfectionist family who doesn’t accept defeat, it is a pretty big deal.”
instantly, you feel slightly bad. of course, you’ve heard about his family. they are pretty strict when it comes to him. maybe that’s why he’s very reserved because he has no time for failure. they’ve put too much pressure on him.
your free hand extends and travels from his arm towards his neck, up to his face. slowly, he relaxes to your touch.
“i remember feeling so worthless while staring blankly at my silver medal.” he resumes telling you the story.
“while i stare with despair at it, already imagining the disappointed look from my father, someone approaches me.” he stops.
“guess who?” he smirks. “i'll give you a clue.” then smirk grew wider.
“she’s very pretty and currently holding me softly right now.”
“me?” you wonder.
he nods. “you were pretty amazed at my silver medal.” he states, a big smile on his face now.
just the emotion he was showing was enough to tell how delighted he is by reminiscing that moment.
“i was actually annoyed at first because i thought you were mocking me.” he chuckled and you pout jokingly.
“hey, you’re so judgemental.”
he shrugs his shoulders. “can’t blame me, angel. i was still very introverted that time.”
“you’re still a little introvert now.”
he cocked his eyebrow and you did the same thing, staring back. that made him chuckle.
“okay, maybe you’re right.” he surrenders then drop a kiss on your forehead.
“and then what happened?” you curiously asked.
he smiled. “then i told you harshly that what’s so great for second place?” he continued.
you grow silent then tries hard to recall the memory.
“and then you said,” you glanced at him, eyes starting to water a bit.
“that there’s nothing wrong with being second place. that it doesn’t mean that you failed or you didn’t won. that instead of being sad, you should take it as a chance to become better. that it only means you still have a room to grow.” you finished it that made him smile.
“right...”
“hee...” eyes brimming with tears already. “that was years ago.” you stated, couldn’t believe that he started to get interested that time.
his eyes dropped at your intertwined hand and he raised it to gently place a kiss on top of it.
“hee...” you mumbled again, this time voice cracking a little.
he smiles, “sorry if we approached you the wrong way. we just really don’t know what to do.” his eyes sparkles, getting a bit teary as well.
“i-it’s okay... i didn’t know.”
he chuckles, “obviously. you’re too dense to notice.”
“hey!” you playfully shoot him glares that he just laughed at before leaning in to give you a kiss.
the two of you stared at each other affectionately, enough to communicate what your hearts wants to tell one another.
“i know that with all the responsibilities and the expectation from your parents, it felt heavy. like you feel that you can’t be flawed.” you started.
“but for me you’re just perfect the way you are. with your achievements and failures.” those words tugs his heartstrings, a tear escaping his eye.
the moment you two steps inside the vacation house, heeseung’s lips are attached to you. his kisses are gentle yet passionate. his hands holds you closely to his hot body.
his kisses moves from your lips, down to your chin then neck making sure to suck on your skin making you moan, fingers tangled on his hair.
he slid his arm over your legs then carries you towards the bedroom. he went back to your lips and kisses you once again.
he gently placed you on the bed hovering above you, his hand starting to remove your clothes. and you let him.
when he pulls away, you try to even chase him that made him chuckle.
“wait, angel. i’ll just remove my clothes.”
your eyes trailed down his now erect member.
“d-do you want me to...?”
he smiles then shakes his head, “no. today, its just about you.”
then he kisses you again, resuming on discarding every clothing that you still have on you. once fully unclothed, he positions himself in front of you. he started rubbing his head on your now wet core.
your brows narrowed and whimpers sexily.
“i’ll go in now, okay?” he glanced at you and a nod is all you gave him.
and while your eyes staring back at each other, heeseung pushes his dick inside. the stretch feels so good, his thick cock making you moan his name. it made him satisfied, hearing you getting comfortable on letting out your moans.
“that’s right, let me hear you.” he whispered then pinned your hand on the sides, intertwining his fingers to yours.
he lets you get more comfortable with having him inside and connects his lips on yours again, couldn’t get enough of your lips. his tongue pushes in, wanting to taste every insides of your mouth.
when he started to move, your head starts to get blank. nothing inside but the man above you and making you feel this good.
he slides in and out. starting with a slow pace then going faster. he thrusts deep and fast sending so much pleasure.
“heeseung...” you moaned after his lips moves away.
“i love you, angel.” he suddenly said that made your heart jumped. you didn’t have the chance to say anything as he leans in for a peck.
“i love you so damn much.” and then start thrusting even faster.
“i...” you pursed your lips, eyes shuts as the pleasure from his dick takes away your ability to think and speak properly.
“i..” you attempted again, opening your eyes so you can look at his pretty face.
“love you too...” you finally finished it.
heeseung’s heart thumped faster and he fucked you even harder. he smiles and leans in for another heated kiss. he loves and adore you.
he continues drilling his cock inside until he felt you tightening around him, indicating the approaching release. he kisses your chin.
“cumming for me, angel?”
you open your mouth, “yes. feel so good.”
he smirks, “i know. pussy so good for me.” and then he rut his cock deeper.
“i’m cumming too..” he announces, feeling the knot on his stomach.
“cum with me.” he orders then attach his lips before going rapidly.
not long after you came around heeseung then he filled you with his hot cum. he pulls away to look at your fucked out face, brushing off some hair. he smiles.
“i love you.” he whispers, still going in and out but in a slower pace. riding both your highs.
you opened your eyes and reaches for his face. this time, you lift your head to give him a sweet kiss with a smile on your face. then you laid back down, staring lovingly at him.
his thrust starts to go faster again and a playful smirk spreads across his handsome face, some of his hairs sticks on his forehead due to sweat.
“round two, angel.” and then you let out a whimper from both pleasure and overstimulation.
the two of you spent the rest of the time just going for each other. heeseung making sure you felt how special you are for him.
lee heeseung is scared of failing. always aiming to be the best and to be perfect. he’s too obsessed on pleasing his parents to the point that he almost lose himself. but with you, he felt at ease. he felt safe and confident knowing that despite all his flaws and just being his true self, he’s still admirable.
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