mara

Where They Take You on a First Date (and How They Act)

Max Verstapepen — Indoor karting

• Says it’s “just for fun” but is 100% setting fastest lap times to impress you

• You get kinda mad ofc but he didn’t mean it (or yes?)

• Acts all casual but sneaks glances at your times and smiles when you improve

• He OBVIOUSLY maxplains about how everything works

• Then offers to “coach you” just so he can stand behind you and be close

• Loooves how you get mad but try to be better than him just so he shuts up

• He will dream of you that’s for sure

Charles Leclerc — Coastal dinner in Monaco

• He picks a restaurant with a perfect sunset view.

• Tries to act all casual and all but gets all blushy and laughing nervously

• Feels so in love already

• This man focuses on every move you make

• Just to see if you feel comfy too yk

• He will definitely call you again

Lewis Hamilton — Fashion week + rooftop drinks

• He gets you into a show you didn’t even know you wanted to see

• Wants you to feel comfortable in this “rich” space

• You both talk about your jobs, your life, your pets…

• His interest is now much higher when you say you want to meet Roscoe

• Pays for any drink you like or even clothes you say you want, he already imagines going shopping with you or matching outfits

Carlos Sainz — Tapas hopping

• This man wants to share his favorites of his country

• Keeps ordering for you “so you can try everything”

• But in reality he just wants this to never end

• Feels so attracted to you and your personality

• Carlos already thinks of telling Charles about you

Alex Albon – Street food + thrift shop browsing.

• Picks the messiest snack possible and hands it to you with the biggest grin

• Tries not to laugh when he sees you struggling

• Wanders the aisles holding up ridiculous vintage jackets just to see you laugh

• You both find cool stuff, but also really weird and that makes you share the same humor

• And he likes that, a lot

• Will introduce you to his 13 pets next time you meet

Fernando Alonso – Automobile museum date.

• Leads you through the halls filled with the old, beautiful cars

• Shares fascinating facts like a passionate guide

• Pauses in front of every car he loves, his voice lowering with respect as he recounts its history

• Smiles softly when you ask him about his own racing memories, opening up in rare, personal ways

• Walks you to the museum café, ordering coffee and sharing stories about his journey

• He loved how interested in him you looked

I would appreciate so much if you give them some support 🤍🤍

@maxieeditss both on tiktok and youtube

Thanks!!

Monaco, summer evening.

The sun was spilling molten gold across the Monaco harbor, the light breaking into shards on the gentle waves. From the deck of Max’s yacht, you sat with your legs swinging over the edge, toes grazing the warm saltwater every time the boat shifted. The faint scent of sunscreen clung to your skin, mixed with the crisp, briny air rolling in from the Mediterranean.

Beside you, Max was stretched out, his long legs bent casually, one arm resting on the railing behind you — close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. The other hand cradled a half-empty glass of something pale and chilled, condensation dripping onto his jeans.

“You really don’t get tired of this view, do you?” you asked, eyes flicking from the glittering sea to his profile — sharp against the fading sunlight.

He didn’t answer immediately, just watched the water like it was breathing with him. Then, the faintest smile tugged at his lips. “No. But it’s better now.”

You smirked, tilting your head toward him. “Because I’m here?”

That was when he looked at you properly — the kind of look that didn’t rush. His gaze was steady, lingering on your face, and there was something in it that made your stomach tighten. “Exactly.”

The rest of the afternoon blurred in a way you wished you could bottle. The two of you talked about nothing and everything — little bursts of laughter breaking the quiet, moments of silence that didn’t need filling. At one point, Max leaned back, closing his eyes for a second, and you caught yourself wondering if this was what it would be like to be with him always — not just in the noise of races or the glare of cameras, but here, in this soft, golden stillness.

When the horizon bled into streaks of pink and violet, Max reached for your hand without a word, his fingers curling around yours with an easy certainty. He helped you onto the tender, steadying you with a brief touch at your waist, and you felt the weight of it long after you sat down.

Jimmy’s was alive when you arrived — low jazz spilling from a corner speaker, the murmur of voices under warm, amber light. The restaurant smelled faintly of sea air and something rich and buttery from the kitchen. Your table was tucked into a shadowy corner, away from the bustle, the flicker of a single candle casting small golden halos across the wood.

You traced the rim of your wine glass, watching him watch you. He wasn’t looking at the menu, wasn’t glancing around the room. Just… you.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” you said softly, almost hesitant.

“I’ve been thinking.”

You smiled, trying to lighten it. “That’s dangerous.”

But the way his expression shifted — that faint, unguarded softness in his eyes — made your teasing fade instantly. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled something small into the dim light between you.

A key. Silver, cool, catching the flicker of the candle like it had been waiting for this exact moment.

“What’s this?” you asked, your voice quieter than you expected.

“My place,” he said simply. “The one here, in Monaco. I thought… maybe you could spend more time there. Or—” he hesitated just long enough for your pulse to jump, “—all your time there.”

You blinked, trying to keep up with the weight of his words. “You’re… asking me to live with you? like... living, LIVING?”

A smile curved his lips — that rare, almost boyish one that felt like it cracked open some hidden part of him. “I’m saying I want you there when I wake up. Every day. No rush. But I want that.”

The room seemed smaller, warmer, like all the background noise had blurred into nothing. Your throat tightened, the kind of ache that comes from holding back too many feelings at once. “Max… yes. Absolutely, I mean-”

He exhaled quietly, like he’d been holding it in. Then he took your hand and lifted it to his lips, brushing the softest kiss over your knuckles. “Good. Because I was going to change the locks if you said no.”

Your laugh slipped out, light and full, and his smirk told you he’d been waiting to hear it.

Later, when you stepped back out into Monaco’s night air, the streets warm and humming with life, the key was tucked into your palm. Small. Cool against your skin. But heavier than anything you’d ever held.

Because it wasn’t just a key to his place. It was a key to him.

Monaco, late evening.

The soft hum of the PC fans filled the apartment, blending with the faint sound of Max’s voice through his headset. Three curved monitors glowed in front of him, their light reflecting off the glossy paint of his helmet collection neatly mounted on the wall above his desk. The room smelled faintly of rubber and the salty evening breeze drifting in from the balcony, just behind the swaying curtain.

Y/N stood quietly at the door for a moment, plate in hand, watching him with a small, fond smile. His back was rigid in the racing seat, fingers gripping the wheel tight, voice sharp and focused. “Oh god, what the hell? What the hell was that?” he muttered frustratedly.

She stepped forward silently, the curtain moving gently behind her. Her footsteps were barely audible as she placed the plate of pasta down on the narrow space between his keyboard and the glowing PC tower.

Max jumped. Instinctively, he reached out and covered the webcam mounted above the central monitor. With his other hand, he hit mute on his mic. The live chat exploded. @OrangeArmy33: WHO IS THAT?? @maxyfanforever: …did we just see Max’s girlfriend?? @f1girlies: omg she brought him food that’s so cute @teamredlinefan: LOL he panicked so hard @sstrangecatzz: WHAT JUST HAPPENED?? @15senna.thebest: OMG, a WOMAN @maxfutureGF: nah, no chance for me now

“You scared me,” he muttered, glancing nervously over his shoulder with a sheepish smile. “Also… congrats, you just leaked yourself to like twenty thousand people.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide as she looked at the screen, reading the chat. “Wait, what? Did they see my face too?” she asked, a bit anxious. “They saw you, but I think your face didn’t show clearly… just wait for the internet detectives to start digging,” Max said with a small laugh.

By the time the pasta had gone cold, the internet had already connected the dots. Gossip accounts on Instagram were posting the clip in 4K quality, and Twitter threads were pairing screenshots from the stream with blurry paparazzi shots of her at the Monaco marina and near stores—right alongside Alexandra Saint-Mleux, which would mean nothing if she weren’t Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend.

@F1Tea (1.2M followers)

@F1Tea: Spotted on Max Verstappen’s stream tonight 👀. Same girl who was seen with Alexandra Saint-Mleux at that festival? @monacogurl: Same hair as the girl seen with Alexandra in the Barcelona race omggg!!! @cuppoftea: Shirt matches that one Max wore in Austria… @maxxxine1: You’re all crazy, maybe it’s his sister Victoria. ↳@f1is4thegirls: Nope, his sister’s blonde. The girl on stream had long brown hair… like this one.

Later that night, Y/N curled up on the sofa in the living room corner, directly opposite the glass shelves where Max’s trophies caught the dim light. “I didn’t… I mean, I didn’t want people to know like that,” she said softly, eyes glued to her phone. “What if they hate me? What if they follow me everywhere now?” She glanced at him, searching for reassurance.

Max sat down beside her, his knee brushing against hers. “Look, if some people don’t like it, that’s their problem. I’m not hiding you, Y/N. I’m happy with you. That’s what matters.” He gently took her hand. “Maybe they’ll talk, yeah, but you just let them. Everything’s gonna be alright.” “I hope you’re right,” she whispered, looking back at her phone as he kissed the top of her head.

A couple days later, Y/N was out shopping in Zara with Alexandra and Rebecca (Carlos’s girlfriend). “I’m just nervous people might start leaking stuff about my family or something…” she said, running her fingers over the soft silk of a dress. “At first it’s confusing, girl… but you have to act confident. Trust me,” Alex said. Rebecca chuckled in agreement. “She’s right, and besides, now you’re with the group. The other girls will love you.” That made Y/N feel a little lighter.

Two days later, their social feeds spoke for themselves. @maxverstappen1

@maxverstappen1: Not much of a secret anymore, I guess. I love you so much to keep you secret.❤️ @yourusername

@monacogurl: GUYS I KNEW. WE WERE ALLLL RIGHT @yourusername: I love you too <3<3 @f1wagspretty: We should start thinking of ship names. @maxxxine1: oh. ↳@maximaxdududu1: for real, that's the only thing I can say now.

@yourusername

@yourusername: Getting used to the spotlight… ✨

@f1channel: I think we will love her @girlystuffig: She looks so pretty and confident!!! @redbullracing: Welcome, Y/N @monacogurl: Hi Y/N, you say hiiii? ↳@yourusername: Of course love, hello! @maxxxine1: She is kinda cute for Max yeah...

The change was gradual but real. Y/N started walking into the paddock with her head held high, chatting with the other girlfriends, even posing for the occasional photo.

The noise from the crowd no longer made her insecure — she knew what was real and what wasn’t, and that’s all that mattered. She could kiss him, hold his hand, and be his support — on the paddock and in the garage — without hiding. All thanks to being caught accidentally on camera.

Hiii! It's my first time writting and posting here, I've been reading fanfics and stuff since a lot and got my ideas but was too embarrassed or lazy to write/post... so I'm trying now!

If you are a writter or know well how to use this, I'd love the help!!