#redhead babe

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: You are a redhead with curly hair dating Max Verstappen, but after the Netherlands GP, you are spotted at the redhead festival, and the fans go crazy.

Warning: none

Requested: yes, anonymous

The roar of engines at Zandvoort still echoed in your ears as you drove through the Dutch countryside. Your curly red hair caught the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the car window.

Max had won his home Grand Prix again, and the celebration had been amazing. Now you were ready for something completely different.

"Are you sure about this?" Max asked that morning, gently twisting one of your copper curls around his finger. "You know the cameras will be everywhere after yesterday's race."

You just smiled and kissed him goodbye. "It's been three years since I attended a proper redhead festival. I'm not missing Roodharigendag for anything, not even for the world champion."

Walking through the gates of Tilburg's Stadspark, you felt like you had entered another world. Hundreds of people with every shade of red hair imaginable filled the park, from strawberry blonde to deep auburn, straight hair to curls wilder than your own. For the first time in months, you didn’t stand out. You were just another redhead in a sea of beautiful, fiery locks.

You had been careful, sunglasses, a simple sundress, and your hair pulled back into a bun with curls escaping everywhere. But apparently, you weren’t careful enough.

"Oh my God, is that Max Verstappen's girlfriend?"

The whisper carried on the wind, and you felt that familiar flutter of recognition ripple through the crowd around you. You had been photographed enough times in the paddock that dedicated fans knew your face, especially with your distinctive hair.

"It is! She's here! At the redhead festival!"

Within minutes, your quiet afternoon celebrating natural red hair had turned into something else entirely. Phones appeared everywhere, and suddenly, you were at the center of attention among a crowd that was made up of redhead festival attendees and Formula 1 fans who had somehow appeared out of nowhere.

"Can we get a picture?" "Are you here with Max?" "Your hair is gorgeous!" "Is Max coming?"

The questions came from all directions, but what struck you most was how different this felt from the usual racing crowd attention.

Here, surrounded by a sea of redheads, many comments were about your natural curls, representation, and how cool it was to see someone like you dating a world champion.

"I love that you never straighten it for the cameras," said a teenage girl with bright red ringlets similar to yours. "My mum always says I should, but seeing you... I don’t want to anymore."

Your heart swelled as the young girl took inspiration from you. You hoped to help more redheads, those who needed someone to talk to or look up to, feel confident in themselves. You wanted to be the person you wished had been there for you when you were growing up.

You found yourself relaxing despite the growing crowd. These weren't just racing fans; they were your people, in a way. People who understood what it was like to have hair that couldn't be ignored, who probably faced the same comments and questions throughout their lives.

"Excuse me, everyone!" A familiar Dutch accent cut through the chatter, and the crowd parted as Max appeared, still wearing his Red Bull polo from earlier sponsor obligations. "I heard my favorite redhead was causing trouble without me."

The crowd erupted. Here was the Dutch racing hero at their local redhead festival, grinning as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"I thought you had meetings all afternoon," you whispered.

"Cancelled them," he murmured back, loud enough for nearby phones to catch. "Couldn’t let you have all the fun with your fellow redheads without me."

What followed was magical chaos. Max happily posed for pictures, signed autographs, and listened with genuine interest as festival organizers explained the history of redhead celebrations.

What made your heart swell were the moments watching him with the kids, especially the young redheads who seemed starstruck that someone who looked like them was dating their racing hero.

A young boy, no more than thirteen, shyly approached Max, holding a notebook and pen in one hand. Max greeted him with a smile. "Your hair is so cool," Max told the boy with bright orange curls. "Just like hers. You should never let anyone tell you to change it, okay?"

By the time you escaped the crowd, the sun was setting, and social media was buzzing. #RedheadFestival was trending, filled with pictures of you and Max surrounded by hundreds of redheads, your curly hair finally free from its bun and wild in the evening breeze.

"Well," Max said as you walked back to the car, his fingers intertwined with yours, "I think we just started something."

Your phone was buzzing nonstop with notifications. Twitter was going crazy:

@F1RedQueen: "STOP EVERYTHING. Max's girlfriend is at the REDHEAD FESTIVAL, and I'm crying; she's literally found her people."

@CurlyHairDontCare: "The way she's never hidden her natural curls and now she's celebrating at the redhead festival... WE LOVE A CONFIDENT QUEEN."

@DutchGPFan: "From Zandvoort to redhead festival in 24 hours, this girl really said 'watch me live my best life' and I RESPECT IT."

@GingerPride2025: "Seeing Max Verstappen's gf at Redhead Festival is the representation we needed. Natural curls in F1! RED HAIR SUPREMACY!"

Your best friend texted: "Girl, Twitter is going crazy. There's already fan art of you as the 'Redhead Racing Queen', and three different people have started Instagram accounts dedicated to your curls. Also, redhead festival attendance just tripled for next year."

You showed Max the message, and he laughed, the sound mixing with the distant music still playing in the park behind you.

"Think you can handle being the unofficial spokesperson for redheads in motorsport?" he asked, playfully tugging on one of your curls.

You grinned, standing on your toes to kiss him as someone in the distance shouted, "There they are!" A fresh wave of camera flashes began.

"I think I can manage," you said. "After all, someone has to represent the curly redheads in the paddock."

"Good," Max replied, pulling you closer as fans started approaching again, "because I have a feeling this is just the beginning."

As the crowd surrounded you both once more, filled with racing fans and redhead festival attendees alike, you couldn't help but smile even brighter. Looking around at all these young redheads taking selfies with newfound confidence, you realized you could finally turn the insecurity you had felt growing up into the representation they deserved.