Request: Are you able to write something where reader is in a relationship with Max or Carlos or Lando. They sometimes playfight and yn usually wins. But one day the driver has to go somewhere else and uses his real strength to stop playing. And yn is shocked that he used to just pretend. Slightly angsty but mostly fluff.
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You and Max have always been close. Long before you started dating, you were best friends, partners in crime, and each other's confidants. Your days were filled with inside jokes, playful banter, and those moments of playfighting that always left you breathless with laughter. You loved the way Max engages in these little tussles, seemingly evenly matched, making it all the more thrilling.
Today was one of those days. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of your apartment, casting a warm, golden glow across the living room. Lounging on the couch, you and Max are scrolling through your phones and sharing random memes when the playful urge strikes you.
You nudge Max with your foot, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. "Bet I can take you down in under a minute."
He looks up, eyebrows raised, and chuckles. "Oh, really? Is that a challenge?"
You nod, laughing as you leap off the couch and adopt a mock fighting stance. Max follows suit, rising to his feet with a grin that mirrors yours. He's always game for a little fun, no matter how ridiculous.
You start your usual routine of playful attacks, knowing exactly how to make him laugh and stumble. But today, Max seemed a little distracted, glancing at his watch every few seconds. You notice but choose to ignore it, too caught up in the moment to let it break your stride.
"Alright, alright, you win," he says, attempting to end the fight quickly.
But you're not ready to let him off the hook. "Oh no, you don't get off that easy!" you tease, lunging at him again.
"Seriously, schat, I've got—" he starts, but you cut him off with a lighthearted shove.
"Come on, baby, fight back!" you urge, laughing as you goad him into continuing.
He sighs, clearly reluctant. "I really don't have time for this right now," he says, but you're too lost in the moment to listen.
You push him again, harder this time, and his expression changes. Without warning, Max grabs your wrists, twists you around, and gently but firmly pins you face-first to the couch. The sudden display of strength leaves you stunned, your breath catching in your throat.
"There, I win," he mumbles into your ear, before releasing you as he noted the time on his watch.
You lie there for a moment, processing what just happened. Slowly, you push yourself up and turn to face him, your mind racing. "Max... what was that?" you ask, unable to mask the shock in your voice.
He rubs the back of his neck, looking slightly guilty. "I'm sorry. I really have to go. I didn't mean to—"
"You've always let me win, haven't you?" you interrupt, the realization hitting you hard.
Max sighs, his shoulders slumping. "Yeah," he admits softly. "I didn't want to ruin the fun."
You sit up fully, the playful mood evaporated, replaced by a mixture of surprise and a sting of hurt. "Why?"
He shrugs, avoiding your gaze. "I liked seeing you happy. It was never about winning or losing for me."
Your heart clenches, a lump forming in your throat as you process his words. "You've been holding back this whole time," you say, more to yourself than to him.
He nods, finally meeting your eyes. "I didn't want you to feel... I don't know, like you couldn't beat me. It was more important to me that you had fun."
You reach out, taking his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "You're too sweet for your own good, you know that?"
He chuckles softly, squeezing your hand in return, but the tension between you remains. "I try, and I'm sorry for rushing off like this. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
You shook your head, preventing a smile from forming on your lips as you thought of an idea. "No, don't make it up to me, we'll just have to rematch."
He quirked up an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Are you sure you want to do that again?"
A grin breaks through despite your best efforts to remain serious. "Absolutely. But this time, let's make it more interesting. How about we use Nerf guns or water guns, you name it. Let's see who really comes out on top."
Max laughs, the sound easing the last of the tension between you. "Now that sounds like a challenge I can't refuse. But remember, you asked for it."
You nod, feeling a thrill of excitement. "It's on, baby. Next time, no holding back."
He presses a kiss to your forehead, still smiling as he heads for the door. "I'll be ready. Just don't be too disappointed when you lose."
With a smile, you settle back, imagining the thrill of the next fight. It won't just be about winning or losing—it will be about showing Max that you're ready to match his strength, playfulness, and love, shot for shot.
