[maxtermind]

( ash | she/her | 22 | infp | evermore )

⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ GUIDELINES ⋆ HMU

this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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[maxtermind]

TELLING F1 BOYFRIEND YOU'RE READY FOR YOUR FIRST TIME

( texts masterlist \ main masterlist \ let’s talk )

★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ★ : genre :: mature crack; fluff

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★ : a/n :: ignore the typos, comments, thoughts and reblogs are appreciated! i got a request for this :") but i lost the ask. anyway hi!! how is everyone

[maxtermind]

ash I miss you bby have you left the f1 fandom fully? no hate just wanna say I was here for the writing and you should explore more (yes this is a plea for steve and garrett fics)

to be honest, no!!! I still keep up with f1 but mostly only discuss it within my friend group :")

I feel like posting anything is useless because most fans don't realise that it's totally okay to disagree and be civil towards someone🥀

I do still write some smaus but always end up just leaving them in my gallery😭

honestly, might make some off campus posts because the obsession goes very deep but we'll see hehe💘

[goldsainz]

# DEAN DI LAURENTIS — HIS JERSEY !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✶ you’re officially dating dean, which means wearing his jersey to his hockey games and having him go crazy for it.

002. WARNINGS !

✶ suggestive comments and kissing (nothing too explict), dean calls you baby.

word count : 982

gif by @sophie-baek

You’ve been to Briar U hockey games before, but never wearing a player’s jersey.

In your mind, that had always been reserved for fans, girlfriends, and puck bunnies.

But things are different now. Now, after Dean Di Laurentis finally admitted he didn’t want your fling to stay just a fling, you find yourself sitting in the stands at a Briar vs. Harvard game with the number 66 stretched across your back.

You hadn’t told Dean about your choice of clothing, mostly because you wanted to see his reaction for yourself.

You wanted to watch the exact moment his eyes scanned the crowd between plays and landed on you, his girlfriend, in his oversized jersey.

Alongside you sat Hannah, Garrett Graham’s girlfriend, and Allie, her best friend and roommate. Since Hannah had been dating the team captain for months, she’d quickly become your go-to person for every random hockey question that popped into your head. Despite sometimes being just as lost as you.

When the players finally skated onto the ice, you immediately spotted Dean searching the stands.

His gaze flicked restlessly through the crowd, clearly looking for you.

And then he found you.

His entire face lit up so fast it almost made you laugh. But the expression only lasted a second before confusion pulled at his brows, like he couldn’t quite process what he was seeing. His eyes dropping to the oversized white and blue jersey hanging off your frame.

A slow, disbelieving grin spread across his face as he looked you up and down, realization settling in. Even from halfway across the arena, you could see the ego boost hit him in real time.

“Mine?” He mouthed, pointing at himself.

You only nodded, suddenly feeling shy under the intensity of his stare.

“Someone likes what they see,” Allie teased beside you, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Guess so,” you grinned, still unable to tear your gaze away from Dean as the team began preparing for puck drop.

The game itself turned out to be a fairly easy win for Briar University. Harvard managed to score first thanks to Jake Connelly in the opening period, but Garrett answered with two goals in the second.

Hannah absolutely lost her mind beside you, cheering so loudly you were pretty sure half the rink could hear her. You laughed and clapped right along with her.

Dean picked up an assist during the second goal, making you cheer loud enough that you were convinced he could pick your voice out from the crowd.

Apparently, he could. Because he then looked straight at you and blew you a kiss through the glass.

By the time the game ended, your cheeks hurt from smiling.

You waited outside the locker rooms with Hannah and Allie while the players showered and changed, the hallway buzzing with post-game energy and scattered conversations.

And then Dean walked out.

Black jeans hugged his legs, and a dark shirt stretched distractingly across his chest and arms. The fabric clung just enough to make your thoughts immediately inappropriate. You barely managed to maintain a shred of dignity.

Barely.

The second he spotted you, you practically launched yourself at him.

Dean caught you easily, laughing as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms slid around his neck. You kissed him hard enough to make a few nearby players groan in annoyance.

“Took you long enough,” he muttered against your mouth.

That earned a loud whoop from Tucker and an immediate, “Get a room!” from Logan.

Neither of you paid them any attention.

“Hi,” you whispered against Dean’s lips, barely pulling away.

“Hi, baby,” he answered, voice rougher than before, damp hair still messy from the shower.

You kissed him one more time before finally letting him lower you back onto your feet.

The moment your sneakers hit the ground, he leaned down close to your ear. “Can I just say,” he murmured, “how hard it was to focus once I saw you wearing my jersey?”

“You like it?” You teased, turning slightly so he could see DI LAURENTIS stretched across your back.

“I love it,” he growled softly.

His hand slid to your lower back, pulling you flush against him before kissing you again, slower this time but somehow even more heated.

“Okay, lovebirds, time to go,” Garrett said, sounding both amused and deeply exhausted by the two of you.

“You’re just jealous,” Dean shot back immediately, sticking his tongue out at the team captain as he kept an arm securely around your waist while you walked beside him.

“I’m not.” As if to prove his point, Garrett leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to Hannah Wells’s mouth.

“Ugh, get a room,” Your boyfriend groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes so hard it made you laugh.

“Rich coming from you,” Garrett deadpanned.

You snorted softly, resting your head against Dean’s bicep while the boys continued bickering like overgrown children.

“Malone’s?” Logan asked, already eager to celebrate the win.

“Sure,” Garrett agreed.

“We’ll catch up with you guys later,” Dean said casually, making you lift your head to look at him in confusion.

Tucker immediately shook his head. “You dirty dog.”

“What’s going on?” Hannah asked, glancing between the two of you.

You only shrugged, equally confused for approximately two seconds.

“Gotta take care of something,” Dean then looked down at you. And suddenly you understood exactly what he meant.

“Oh,” you said quietly, trying—and failing—to suppress your smile.

Logan barked out a laugh. “More like take care of someone, right?”

Dean threw him a pointed look that only made the others laugh harder.

“We’ll see you in, like, an hour,” you told them, attempting to sound innocent.

“An hour?” He murmured, his mouth brushing against your ear. “Baby, after seeing you in my jersey tonight, you’ve got way too much faith in me.” 

Your stomach flipped at the teasing edge in his voice.

“Two, minimum.”

NOTE : first off campus (dean) fic!!! please forgive me if there are any hockey errors, especially the whole waiting outside the locker room😭 i couldn’t get a conclusive answer from google if that was allowed or not, so in fanfic world it allowed! i have more dean fics on the way, so please sit tight 😼

[maxtermind]

garrett graham

[plushworldz]

trust i got yall fr 💯💯💯

[maxtermind]

gp is leaving redbull too...how do we feel?

[maxtermind]

my driver's loyalty to that fuckass team is like knives to my heart

[maxtermind]

just binged look at how my tears ricochet and dudeeee ur pen is insane!!!! like even tho its texts u convey so much ahhhh and the songs explaining post u did chefs kiss allllllll over

you're too kind bae, I'm blushing sjshsjjs

I felt like explanation post was so important because I put so much thought into each text and the songs I pick but it gets lost in the format hehe glad you enjoyed it

[maxtermind]

i dont give a FUCK abt f1 but there’s smth abt your text fics that have me eating them uuuuuuuup

haha love this string of inbox I have

let me know which one is your fav :3 so happy you enjoy my work!!!

[maxtermind]

a month without my fav f1 poster💔

you are missed

shgdhjfjj apparently post grad is not as ezz as under grad (pretends to be shocked)

I miss being here too :(

[maxtermind]

Really love your smaus but know absolutely nothing about F1 so I had a friend sit down with me and explain everything as much as possible so I can get the hang of it 🙂‍↕️

😭😭😭

my love you're absolutely hilarious, I hope you enjoy how miserable we all are :") but we have fun.. at times, glad to have you here <3

[maxtermind]

my driver's loyalty to that fuckass team is like knives to my heart

[maxtermind]

did you watch heated rivarly????? If no…YOU HAVE TO!!! It will change your brain chemistry 🫣🩷 if you wish you can do smau about it!!! Like ynwis watching this with her f1 bf 🤣🤣🤣

you're not sure of what you have unleashed because I've actively made drafts inspired by this since you first sent it my love😭

I loooooved heated rivalry

can't wait to pick up the books I jus need 50 hours in a day this is so unfair I hate adulting</3

[maxtermind]

instead of doing requests, you should definitely do a smau you really want to do!!! i would love to see what you do

hehe that's the plan!!!! I hope to post at least two smaus every week from now😁

I also only pick requests I personally like doing (my inbox is at 600+🥲) so I think technically TECHNICALLY :")

[maxtermind]

ash pls do your service if you've seen the tinder prank!!!! i will give you my firstborn🤤

DATING APP PRANK ON F1 DRIVERS

( texts masterlist \ main masterlist \ let’s talk )

★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ★ : genre :: mature crack; lowkey angst (?)

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★ : a/n :: ignore the typos, comments, thoughts and reblogs are appreciated! hope this is the right prank or imma be so embarrassed lol.

[goldsainz]

# MV33 — THE REAL WINNER !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✶ after losing the championship, max is reminded of what truly matters, because winning isn’t just about what happens on track.

002. WARNINGS !

✶ abu dhabi 2025. wife!reader. eline is 4 years old and pieter is about a year old.

003. NOTE !

✶ this is so the meme of two women and one has a trophy, the other children and it’s “i won” “no you didn’t” (for reference) also i researched some dutch names and i think i ended up picking the most basic ones😭

word count : 825

The paddock felt quieter than it should’ve. Not devastated, not bitter but instead just muted. Two points. After a season of chaos and brilliance and clawing back every scrap he could, the title slipped just out of reach.

That kind of loss should’ve carved a hollow space in his chest. And yet… it didn’t.

Because Max wasn’t really thinking about standings when he climbed out of the car. He wasn’t thinking about the cameras swarming around him, or the questions waiting to be thrown at him, or the articles already being written in real time about how close he came. His mind was somewhere else entirely.

He was thinking about the garage. He was thinking about you. About the two tiny humans with his eyes and your smile who were waiting for him.

The corridor to the Red Bull motorhome felt impossibly long, each step heavy with exhaustion, adrenaline fading into something quieter and more fragile. But then he saw the door to his driver room cracked open, light spilling across the floor like an invitation, a reminder that he wasn’t stepping into disappointment.

And the moment he pushed it open, the world softened.

Eline was the first thing he saw. She was standing on the little couch in her tiny Red Bull shirt, gripping the stuffed lion he’d bought her months ago. Her face lighting up as soon as she spotted him. 

“Papa!” She squealed, launching herself toward him so fast he barely had time to kneel.

She crashed into him with all the force a four-year-old could muster, arms tight around his neck. The breath that left his lungs was not from exhaustion, but from love so fierce it almost hurt.

Pieter was on your hip, already wriggling and reaching for him the second he appeared. His little hands opened and closed urgently, legs kicking like he could force you to move faster just by sheer determination.

Eline kissed his cheek with all the enthusiasm in the world, then patted both sides of his face as if checking he was really there.

“You came, Papa! I waited. I waited so long.”

“It was ten minutes,” you murmured, smiling.

“A very long ten minutes,” she insisted, eyes wide.

Before Max could answer, Pieter made a sound—half squeal, half complaint—from your hip.

“Okay, okay, come here,” Max breathed, shifting an arm to take him.

Pieter practically launched himself into his chest, tiny fingers curling in the fireproofs, face burrowing into Max’s collar like he belonged exactly there. 

You watched his whole expression soften, shift, melt as he gathered both children close. His forehead pressed to Eline’s hair with instinctive tenderness, while his hand cradled the back of Pieter’s head, steady and protective. 

In that moment he didn’t look like a driver who had just lost a championship. He looked like a man who had everything.

“Hi,” you murmured as you stepped closer. Your voice was soft, steady—the kind of voice that could pull him back from any edge.

Max swallowed, his breath coming out uneven as your hand brushed over his cheek, the world settling into a gentle quiet where there was no noise, no pressure. Just him with you, finally home.

“Two points,” he muttered, voice low and worn. Not angry. Not bitter. Just tired in a way that went all the way down to the bones.

“I know,” you whispered, thumb brushing along his jaw.

He leaned into your touch like it was the one thing keeping him upright. “I wanted to win it for them.”

“And you gave them everything,” you said. “That’s enough. You’re enough.”

Eline patted his chest like she was delivering a diagnosis. “It’s okay, Papa. You still fast.”

Her certainty—so simple, so pure—cracked something inside him. A laugh escaped, rough around the edges but real, the first genuine sound of relief he’d made all night.

He pulled all three of you closer, arms wrapping around his family like he was trying to memorize the shape of it. Pieter babbled happily and buried his face in Max’s suit, like he could sense exactly what his father needed.

“See?” You whispered against his temple. “Still their hero. Championship or not.”

Max blinked hard, eyes shining, because somehow losing didn’t sting the same when he had this.

He pressed a kiss to Eline’s hair, then to the top of Pieter’s head, and finally—slow and grateful—to your lips. A kiss that said more than he ever could out loud.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “I just… I want to be with you. With them. That’s all I need.”

Your smile warmed something deep in his chest, steadying him in a way nothing else ever could.

And as your little family stepped out of the driver room together, Max realized something he never would’ve believed years ago.

This loss didn’t feel like a loss at all. Not when he’d already won the most important thing of his life.