Pairing: Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!reader
Summary: you take a risk and change you brunette hair to blonde.
“Are you sure about this?” Max asked again, leaning against the bathroom counter, watching me for what felt like the tenth time.
I glanced at him through the bathroom mirror, fingers lightly playing with the ends of my hair.
“I don’t know…” I admitted, exhaling softly. “It’s a big change.”
He pushed himself off the wall and walked toward me slowly and his hands slid to my waist.
“You’ve been thinking about it for a long time.” he murmured close to my ear.
“I know, but thinking about it and actually doing it are two very different things.”
He hummed, resting his chin on my shoulder, both of us staring at my reflection.
“You’d look good with any hair,” he said. “Blonde, brunette, pink… doesn’t matter.”
I smiled faintly. “That’s not helpful.”
“It is,” he insisted, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my hip. “Because it means you can’t mess this up.”
I turned around to face him, raising an eyebrow. “So I won’t regret it?”
His lips curved into that cocky, soft smile I knew too well.
“Oh, I might regret it.” My eyes narrowed slightly.
“Yeah,” he said, pretending to think. “Because if you come back looking even better than you already do…”
He leaned in just enough for his breath to brush against my lips.
“…I’m not letting you leave the house anymore.”
I laughed, pushing his chest lightly. “You’re so dramatic.”
“And you love it.” I didn’t deny it.
“So?” I crossed my arms, still smiling. “Final opinion before I go ruin my hair?”
He looked at me for a second—really looked—his expression softening in a way that made my heart skip.
“Do it,” he said simply. “I want to see that version of you.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’m doing it.”
Max didn’t say anything else—he just pulled me closer and kissed me. Slow, deliberate, like he was sealing the decision.
“Text me when you’re done,” he murmured against my lips.
“Maybe I won’t,” I teased. His eyes darkened just a little.
“Then I’ll spend the whole day imagining it.”
“Good.” I smiled. “Suffer a little.”
The hours at the salon felt longer than they should have.
Every step—washing, bleaching, toning—made it more real. More irreversible.
And when they finally spun the chair around…
Soft, bright, completely different—but somehow still me.
I lifted a hand, running my fingers through it, heart racing.
Max was going to have a big reaction. I just didn’t know how intense it would be.
I grabbed my phone, typing his name on FaceTime… then stopped.
This was going to be better in person.
But before going back to our apartment, I went to Victoria secret to buy another little surprise for him.
“Max?” I called as I walked into the house, trying—and failing—to sound normal.
I took a breath, biting back a smile, then stepped in.
He was by the counter, mid-sentence about something—probably something completely random—and then he turned.
His eyes locked on mine first, then slowly moved up, taking in every detail.
I crossed my arms, pretending confidence. “Please say something.”
He blinked once, like he needed to reset his brain.
“You’re joking,” he finally said under his breath.
That snapped him out of it immediately.
He walked toward me slowly, eyes still fixed on me like I was something new.
“That good,” he corrected, stopping right in front of me.
His hands found my waist automatically, fingers tightening just a little as he leaned closer.
“You look…” he paused, searching for the right word. “Dangerous.”
I laughed softly. “Dangerous?”
“Yeah.” His gaze dropped briefly to my lips before coming back up. “Like I’m about to make bad decisions.”
“Oh, so this is a problem now?”
I tilted my head, letting a strand of blonde hair fall forward. “You told me to do it.”
“I didn’t know it was going to look like this.”
“And what does ‘this’ mean?”
His thumb brushed lightly along my jaw.
“It means I’m trying really hard to remember what I was doing before you walked in.”
I smiled, stepping just a little closer, closing the space between us.
I bit my lip, enjoying this way too much. “So you don’t regret it telling me to do it?”
He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
“Not even a little.” His voice dropped slightly. “But I definitely underestimated it.”
“Oh yeah?” I teased. “How bad is it?”
Instead of answering, he leaned in, his lips brushing mine—slow, lingering, like he was taking his time learning something new.
My fingers slid up to his shoulders, gripping lightly.
“You’re being dramatic again.”
“Not this time,” he said, kissing me again—longer now, deeper, like he was proving a point.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.
“I leave you alone for a few hours and you come back like this?” he whispered.
“I love it,” he corrected immediately.
I smiled, softer now. “Good. Because I was a little scared.”
His expression changed instantly, one hand moving up to tuck my hair behind my ear.
“Don’t be,” he said quietly. “You’re still you.”
“That’s kind of the point.”
“Exactly.” He tilted his head slightly. “Just… upgraded.”
I laughed. “Wow, upgraded?”
“Yeah,” he smirked. “And now I have to deal with it.”
He pulled me closer again, arms wrapping around my waist.
“Not wanting to let you out of my sight.” He said. “And the tightness of my pants .”
I leaned into him, resting my hands against his chest. “Sounds like a you problem.”
“Oh, it is,” he agreed easily. “But it’s also a you and me problem.”
I smiled, looking up at him.
That made him laugh—soft, genuine.
“Come here,” he murmured again, like he couldn’t stop himself.
And this time, when he kissed me, there was no teasing behind it—just warmth, closeness, and that quiet intensity that always pulled me in.
He didn’t pull away completely this time.
Instead, his hand slid down my arm, fingers intertwining with mine as he took a small step back—guiding me with him.
“Come here,” Max murmured, his voice quieter now, but somehow even more dangerous.
I raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on my lips. “Where are you taking me?”
“That doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”
He let out a soft laugh, glancing at me over his shoulder as he started walking toward the stairs, still holding my hand.
I followed without another word.
The moment we stepped into the bedroom, the air felt different.
Max closed the door behind us, the soft click echoing louder than it should have.
I turned to face him, crossing my arms lightly. “So…?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he just looked at me again—really looked—like he still wasn’t over it.
“This is still distracting,” he said finally.
I tilted my head. “You’ve said that already.”
“Yeah, and I’ll keep saying for a long time”
I laughed under my breath. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you did this on purpose.”
In a second, he was in front of me again, his hands finding my waist, pulling me closer until there was barely any space left between us.
“You’re trouble,” he murmured.
His lips brushed mine—slow at first, testing—before deepening just enough to make my breath hitch.
My hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping lightly as he backed me up a step… then another… until the back of my legs hit the edge of the bed.
I let out a soft laugh against his lips. “You planned this.”
“Maybe,” he said, not even pretending to deny it.
I pushed him lightly, switching positions so he stumbled back onto the bed, a surprised laugh escaping him.
“I told you,” I said, climbing onto the mattress, moving closer, “this was a you problem.”
He watched me, eyes darker now, hands immediately finding my hips the second I got close enough.
“Is it?” he challenged quietly.
I leaned down just enough for my hair to fall around us like a curtain, brushing against his face.
His grip tightened slightly, pulling me closer again.
“Definitely is,” he murmured before kissing me again—slower this time, but deeper, like he wasn’t in any rush anymore.
My fingers slipped into his hair instinctively, and I felt him smile against my lips.
“Careful,” he whispered. “You just got it done.”
I laughed softly, resting my forehead against his for a second, both of us catching our breath.
There was something softer underneath it all now—still intense, still charged—but warmer.
“You really like it?” I asked quietly, almost shy for the first time.
His expression softened instantly.
“I really do,” he said. “But not just because of how it looks.”
I frowned slightly. “Then why?”
He brushed a strand of my hair back gently.
“Because you walked in there, did something that scared you… and came back even more confident.”
My heart did that annoying little flip.
“I notice everything when it’s about you.”
I smiled, softer now, leaning into his touch.
I rolled my eyes playfully, but didn’t move away.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
“You’re still distracting, by the way,” he added.
I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”
I leaned down again, pressing a softer kiss to his lips this time.
“Good,” I whispered. “Because I’m not changing it.”
His arms wrapped around me again, pulling me down with him as we settled into the bed—no rush, no urgency now.
Just the quiet kind of closeness that made everything else fade away.
Lovely/n Instagram stories
Find a boyfriend who inspires you to change and to become an even better version of yourself—just like mine does 🤍 @maxverstappen1
