THROTTLE & BOARDS
Macklin Celebrini x Fem! F1 Driver! Reader x (platonic!) Max Verstappen
You tugged on the sleeve of Max’s hoodie, dragging him down the arena steps toward the glass.
“Remind me again why I’m here?” he muttered, looking around the roaring arena like he’d accidentally landed on another planet.
You held up your tickets with a grin.
“Because I go to your races all the time. Tonight you’re experiencing my sport.”
Max squinted at you.
“You literally drive in Formula One too.”
“Yeah,” you said, pointing at the ice, “but this is different.”
Right then a player ripped a slapshot toward the net.
The goalie stopped it with a loud THWACK.
Max leaned forward immediately.
“Oh—that’s the pit crew.”
You blinked. “The goalie?”
“Yeah,” Max said seriously. “He prevents disaster.”
You started laughing so hard you had to grab the armrest.
“That might be the worst comparison yet.”
Max looked extremely proud of himself.
“I think it’s accurate.”
Just then, the arena lights dimmed.
Music blasted through the speakers as the giant screen flickered to life.
“Alright everyone,” the announcer boomed, “let’s see who we’ve got in the crowd tonight!”
The Jumbotron cycled through dancing fans, kids waving, couples kissing—
And then suddenly—
Your face filled the massive screen.
You froze.
Next to you, Max looked up, confused.
“Why are we up there?”
The announcer’s voice grew louder.
“Wait a second…” the announcer said, his voice rising with surprise.
“Is that our very own Formula One driver in the building tonight?!”
The camera zoomed in closer as the crowd began to recognize you.
A ripple of cheers spread through the arena.
“Oh yeah, that’s definitely her!” the announcer continued. “A Formula One race winner joining us at the game tonight!”
The crowd erupted.
You laughed awkwardly and lifted a hand in a quick wave, immediately hiding part of your face as the camera stayed on you a second longer.
Max leaned toward you with a smirk.
“Look at you,” he teased. “Big celebrity.”
“Oh shut up.”
Down on the ice, Macklin glanced up at the Jumbotron.
And froze.
His eyes widened.
Because there you were.
Huge on the screen.
The Formula One driver he’d seen in interviews and race highlights.
Sitting five rows behind the glass.
His teammates immediately started nudging him.
Will leaned closer.
“Dude,” he whispered through his mouthguard. “You seeing that?”
“Oh my god she’s here.”
Another teammate nearly choked laughing.
“Bro she’s literally right behind our bench.”
Tyler smacked Macklin lightly on the shoulder.
“You good there?”
Macklin was still staring up at the screen, completely distracted.
Which the ref noticed immediately.
“Hey! Eyes down!” the ref snapped.
The puck dropped.
But Mack’s focus was still half in the stands.
Five rows up, you were laughing while Max shook his head beside you.
“See?” you said. “Hockey’s fun.”
Max glanced down at the ice again—right as Macklin skated past the glass and risked another look up.
“…I think you’re distracting him,” Max said.
You blinked. “What?”
Your eyes accidentally met Macklin’s.
He nearly tripped over his own skates.
Max snorted.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “You just ruined that guy’s whole shift.”
You buried your face in your hands.
“This is so embarrassing.”
Max leaned back in his seat, clearly entertained.
“You know,” he said casually, “if he misses a goal tonight, I’m blaming you.”
Down on the ice, Macklin skated back into position—
Still very aware that the Formula One driver sitting behind the glass had just looked straight at him.
The puck dropped.
But his focus clearly wasn’t fully on the play.
Five rows up, you were laughing while Max watched the ice.
“…I think you’re distracting him,” Max said.
You blinked.
“What?”
Macklin skated by the glass.
Your eyes met his for half a second.
He almost lost an edge.
Max snorted.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “You really ruined that guy’s whole shift.”
You buried your face in your hands.
“This is so embarrassing.”
But Max leaned forward suddenly.
“Oh wait.”
“What?”
He pointed at the ice.
“I know this part.”
You groaned. “Please don’t.”
But Macklin had the puck again, skating along the boards near your section.
Max immediately stood up slightly in his seat.
“Oh look!” he called through the glass.
You grabbed his arm.
“Max—”
But it was too late.
Max tapped the glass lightly.
“P1! Don’t bottle it!”
You stared at him in horror.
“Oh my god.”
Mack heard it.
He glanced up.
Saw you.
Then saw Max grinning beside you.
His teammates noticed immediately.
Will burst out laughing.
“You getting chirped by an F1 driver right now?”
Tyler smacked Macklin’s shoulder again.
“No way this is real.”
Max leaned closer to the glass again, completely entertained.
“Come on!” he called. “Defend like last lap!”
You covered your face.
“I cannot believe you.”
Macklin skated past again, shaking his head but clearly trying not to smile.
Max sat back down like he’d just done something perfectly normal.
“This sport is fun.”
“You’re heckling them.”
“I’m motivating them.”
“That’s not motivating.”
Down on the ice, Macklin lined up again for the next play.
He glanced up one more time.
Max raised his eyebrows at him and gestured forward.
“Go, go, go,” he mouthed.
You groaned into your hands.
“I’m never bringing you to a hockey game again.”
Max grinned.
“Oh no,” he said.
“You absolutely are.”
Then he nodded toward Macklin on the ice.
“I think he likes the competition.”
The puck dropped again.
This time, Macklin forced himself to focus.
No looking up.
No distractions.
Just hockey.
Across from him, Will leaned over during the faceoff.
“You know she’s still watching you, right?”
“Will,” Macklin muttered.
“What?”
“Stop talking.”
Behind them, Tyler chuckled.
“You’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You almost fell over earlier.”
“That was the ice.”
“Sure it was.”
The puck hit the ice.
Macklin won the draw immediately and the play moved fast through the neutral zone. He pushed forward along the boards, grabbing the pass that came back to him.
Five rows behind the glass, you leaned forward in your seat.
“Oh—he’s got it,” you said.
Next to you, Max sat up instantly.
“Alright,” Max said like a commentator. “Let’s see if he can deliver under pressure.”
You elbowed him.
“Stop.”
But Macklin was already skating hard into the offensive zone.
Smith cut across the middle.
Toffoli moved toward the net.
Macklin hesitated for a split second—then shot.
The puck flew past the goalie and slammed into the back of the net.
The arena exploded.
You jumped to your feet without thinking.
“Yes!”
Max stood up beside you, pointing toward the ice.
“Let’s go!”
Down below, Macklin was immediately tackled by his teammates.
Will grabbed his helmet.
“You did it!”
Tyler laughed, shoving him toward the boards.
“Bro scored in front of his celebrity crush.”
Macklin rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.
As the celebration ended, he skated past the glass.
Just for a second—
He looked up.
You were still standing there, clapping and laughing.
When your eyes met, you gave him a quick thumbs-up.
Macklin shook his head, grinning.
Back in your seats, Max dropped down dramatically.
“Well,” he said, crossing his arms.
“What?”
Max nodded toward the ice.
“I clearly motivated that goal.”
You stared at him.
“You heckled him.”
“I inspired him.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
Max smirked.
But down on the ice, Macklin skated back into position—
Still smiling a little.
Because somehow…
The weirdest shift of his career had turned into the best one.
