Always You — Mick Schumacher
always you — mick schumacher
pairing. mick schumacher x verstappen!merc racing engineer!fem!reader
summary. mick had always been inexplicably tied to you, no matter what distance grew between you. even if it took over two decades for you to figure it out, it had always been mick. it would always be mick. 5.4k, 18+
playlist. "invisble string" by taylor swift, "the perfect pair" by beabadoobee, "moves" by suki waterhouse, "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys, "let the light in feat. father john misty" by lana del ray
warnings. pining, mick is kind of very much pitiful in this alright, smut, l-bombs, sort of sub!mick, google translated german, almost choking, oral (fem and male receiving), penetrative sex
. . .
"I'm telling you what the data says, and it says you're wrong, so follow the damn line, George."
Mick fought a smile as you told George off over the radio. Toto cast you a look that you didn't even seem to see, let alone acknowledge. The team principal didn't look all that surprised when you didn't take your eyes off the screens of data you were getting input from.
In the next lap, George's lap time dropped nearly four seconds thanks to your suggestion. George didn't offer an apology for doubting you and you didn't expect one; you only expected him to be consistent in how he attacked turns seven and eight, to continue following your instructions.
Mick had observed your and George's relationship over the last few seasons you had been working with him. As George's racing engineer, you had quite a close working relationship with the Brit.
Off track, you were good if unlikely friends. Where George was all pretense and propriety and politeness, you were nothing but brutally honest, succinct, and to the point. But you were close in age and often seen together chatting and laughing.
On track, you were pretty much the same, if not even more blunt, if that was possible. George fed off your no-nonsense attitude, communicating clearly and without any of the fluff normally gracing his conversational skills.
Mick admired how well you worked with George. He admired just about everything you did. You could sit there doing absolutely nothing and F1TV would catch Mick staring at you like a lovesick fool again.
He still doesn't know how he hadn't seen the cameraman filming him as he watched you from across the garage two weekends ago. People kept referring to him as "Heart Eyes" Schumacher and he really could not blame them after seeing the clip of himself watching you.
You hadn't said anything to him about it. In fact, you hadn't said anything to him all season. Or during pre-season. Or in the two years prior when he was driving for Haas. Or in the thirteen years it had been since your dads had their falling out.
Mick would have liked to talk to you. He would have liked to talk about nothing or everything like you used to. He would have listened to you ramble about statistics and analytics and anything you wanted, even if he didn't understand a word of it.
But you had looked at him maybe three times since he signed on as Mercedes reserve driver. You either didn't remember or—more likely, knowing your keen mind—you didn't care about your shared history.
Even if it was in your childhood and so much had changed since then, Mick still remembered. He remembered playdates and shared family vacations and spending every second together that you could before your dad dragged you away.
He remembered noticing how different your dad treated you than his dad treated him. He remembered sleeping over once and hearing your dad screaming at you until you ran to your bedroom in tears. He remembered telling his dad about it all.
He remembered how he was the one to ruin everything.
You didn't seem to remember any of it—or, at least, you never seemed to reminisce on it. Never got caught up staring at him wondering how things could have been different. Never got distracted by unexplainable yet unavoidable and likely unrequited feelings for someone that was once your friend over a decade ago.
When he was with Haas, your lack of interaction could be excused; you were on different teams. Since he had signed with Mercedes, it felt like you had purposefully been ignoring him for months.
He could approach you. He could simply walk up to you at any point when you weren't fully absorbed by readout screens and analytic diagnoses and strike up a conversation.
He didn't want to push his luck. He didn’t fully understand why you wouldn’t talk to him but he also didn't want to make you uncomfortable.
If being near you meant never truly being close to you again, Mick could live with that. Ultimately, you owed him nothing, so he could watch from afar and adore you silently. He could be content with that.
After all, it was his fault that everything fell apart in the first place.
.
"Hey, heart eyes! Come here!"
Mick hesitated before making his way to where Lewis was in the VIP section of this Friday night's club of choice.
"Hi?"
"I can't help but notice that you're pathetically in love with your race engineer."
"She's George's engineer—"
"That’s beside the point. Anyway, I think your girl could use some saving."
"She's not my girl."
Lewis hadn't said your name. Mick didn't need him to.
Mick leaned on the balcony railing beside Lewis, looking down over the crowd on the main floor of the club. He found you embarrassingly fast. You were wearing a black shirt, pink shorts, and sandals.
He had seen you come in earlier with your brother and thought you were probably the prettiest girl there that night. If you were put in a room with the world's top models, Mick would still think the same.
On the floor below, your personal space was being invaded by a dark-haired man in glasses. You looked incredibly uncomfortable, glancing around for anyone you knew who you could latch onto and get away from the man who was talking at you incessantly.
It wasn’t even a conscious decision on Mick’s part. One second, he was watching you from the VIP balcony and the next, he was pushing his way through the dance floor to get to you.
The unnamed glasses man put a hand on your back, touching the sliver of exposed skin between your shirt and shorts. You visibly tensed up.
Before he could think better of it, Mick called your name and pretended to stumble into you and the man.
“Hey! I’ve been looking for you.” He played up being drunk as he stuck himself between you and Glasses. “Hey, mate, how’s it going? Who are you?”
“I’m Nolan. And we were having a conversation.”
Mick had to hand it to ‘Nolan,’ he was persistent. “My bad, I guess. Y/N, your brother’s looking for you. Come on.”
He walked off and you followed after him. He hadn’t really thought this far ahead. He hadn’t been thinking at all. He was running by the seat of his pants and hoping he didn’t end up making things worse.
Last time he had thought he was helping you, he didn't speak to you for thirteen years.
“My brother left an hour ago.”
“I know.”
Mick kept walking towards the stairs up to VIP.
You kept following.
Maybe this time, things would be different.
.
When Mick was 11, he mentioned to his mom that your dad yelled at you and made you cry. That same day, his dad sat him down and asked him to tell him everything he knew about how Jos Verstappen treated his children.
He had told him everything he knew because he didn’t know why he shouldn’t. If his dad wanted to know, it had to be important. Maybe he would be helping you by telling his dad.
A week later, Mick was playing with you in the backyard when your dad started yelling. Except that time, he wasn’t yelling at you or his most frequent target of your older brother Max, he was yelling at Mick’s dad.
That day had ended with your father dragging you away from Mick. Mick remembers thinking he had grabbed you so roughly; didn’t it hurt to be seized by your arm and jerked around like that?
Jos didn’t care. He just yelled at Mick’s dad to stay away if he had such an issue with how he raised his children. So, the Schumachers stayed away. The last memory Mick had of you was with tears streaming down your face, begging your dad not to make Mick leave.
A little less than ten years later, Mick was a Formula One reserve driver. That same year, you had graduated early from university and earned a spot as a Williams performance engineer. Then, you went to Mercedes in 2021 and took over as George’s racing engineer at only twenty two years of age while Mick was racing with Haas.
"I thought you hated me."
You looked up at him, mouth full. "What? Why would I hate you?"
"For telling my dad about everything. For tearing us apart."
You swallowed your mouthful of sandwich, sat across from him in Mercedes hospitality on your lunch break.
After that night in the club, you and Mick rekindled your old friendship. You looked at him, now. You smiled at him and talked to him and sought him out just to sit and talk during your break.
Getting a second chance to be your friend was more than Mick ever thought he would have.
"Mick, that wasn't your fault. My dad... it's complicated. But our dads' falling out wasn't your fault. I never blamed you for it. You know that, right?"
No, he had not known that. He had spent the last thirteen years blaming himself for losing you. He had assumed you would blame him, too, for ending your friendship because he had spent so long as a self proclaimed scapegoat.
"Mick."
"I know that now."
"Mick!"
"I— Okay, I know it's stupid but I have always blamed myself for the whole situation. Then, when we both were getting into F1, you never reached out."
"You never reached out, either!"
"I know that but I figured you wanted nothing to do with me, so I never tried to talk to you."
"You're so daft sometimes, Schumacher."
Mick took your empty insult without argument.
After spending every free second he had with you over the last several weeks, he realized how dumb he had been. He never thought of himself as the melodramatic type but he had really been going through it when he thought you were avoiding him.
"I've never been the smartest when it comes to you."
You just scoffed at him and ate more of your sandwich.
The next day, it was a double podium for Mercedes with Lewis in P2 and George in third. With your brother on the top step of the podium, you were elated, grin broad and voice loud over the radio as you congratulated George for a race well done.
Then, you looked around the garage. Mick didn't know why until your eyes found him along the back wall. You were looking for him. You smiled (at him) and he was smiling back before he even had to think about it.
Being with you had always been easy. As kids, you never argued. You shared toys and always managed to find some weird, convoluted way to mash what you both wanted to do together.
Now that you had gotten over whatever misunderstandings that kept you apart for the last few years, it was easy again. There was never anything you two couldn't talk about. There was never awkward silence. There was never any want to not be near each other.
Mick spent all night celebrating Mercedes' 2-3 finish with you. It was easy to spend hours by your side, to stand too close, to look at you for too long. Once he had a few drinks, it was all too easy to speak his mind around you, lips loose and heart full.
"I missed you."
"I missed you, too, Micky."
"I mean I really missed you. All the time. I would think about you sometimes and miss what we used to have."
Your eyes were soft and focused only on him. He was barely tipsy from the alcohol but he was definitely drunk on you.
"Then, we were both in F1. But it was the pandemic and I was still worried you didn't want to see me. Then, when I was with Haas, I was so scared to approach you."
"Did I do something to make you think I hated you?"
"No, I was just in my head. And those months preparing for the season with Mercedes were the worst. You were so close but I was still too scared to talk to you."
"I wanted to talk to you, too," you admitted. "I thought about doing it sometimes but... I don't know. We hadn't spoken in so long and I was always so busy. I guess I was scared, too."
"I wish we had spoken sooner. We could have had this so much sooner."
"Had what sooner?"
"I don't know." That was a lie. "This. Us."
In all honesty, Mick didn't know what you two were. To anyone who asked, he would say old friends. But you were much more than that.
When he was ten, Mick kissed you for the first time. He had been in love with you since before he even understood what it meant. There was more heartbreak in the severing of your friendship than your families knew, more than either of you had known at that point.
And now, you were together again. Friends again. Except, friends don't sit knee to knee for hours at a time, wholly absorbed in nothing but each other in a raucous club with post-race celebrations going on all around them.
Friends don't let friends ghost their fingertips over the exposed skin of their shoulders, rest their hands on each other's thighs, play with the ends of their hair or the hem of their clothes.
"I missed us." Mick wondered if you knew what he meant by that.
You smiled (at him, again). "Me, too."
You were so close to him. Any sort of respectable distance was out the window. Your thighs were pressed together. You were sat sideways, head resting in your hand as you leaned an arm on the back of the couch.
He could sit up a little straighter and that was all it would take to reach your lips. He was seriously debating doing it.
Then, your brother smacked the back of your head as he was walking past, said something to you in Dutch that had you cursing at him in the same language.
"Hey, Mick," Max tossed at him with an uncomfortably knowing grin.
"Hey, Max."
Suddenly faced with the older brother of the woman he was just been fantasizing about kissing in the middle of a public space, Mick felt his face grow hot. He couldn't quite make eye contact with the eldest Verstappen child.
"Go away, Max," you told your brother with a glare.
Kelly took pity on you, dragging her boyfriend away.
"What did he say?" Mick asked you.
"'Get a room.'"
Mick laughed nervously, shifted away from you slightly. "Sorry, I—"
"Do you want to get out of here?"
Being with you had always been easy. It was maybe the easiest thing Mick had ever done to nod his head yes and let you drag him out of that club.
You sat too close in the cab ride back to the hotel. He stood too close in the elevator up to his hotel room. You held his arm as he fumbled with the keycard to get the door open.
You pushed at his chest to get him to sit on the edge of the bed. He went down willingly, kept his eyes on you the entire time. You stood between his legs, pushed his hair back, let him lean into your touch.
"Is this okay?" you asked.
Were you seriously asking that? He had turned into putty in your hands from just a few touches. You hadn't even kissed him yet.
"Mick," you insisted at his silence.
"Yes. It's okay. It is so okay. Don't stop. Please."
He couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed by just how easily you had reduced him to begging.
Above him, you smiled before leaning down to press your lips to his. His neck was craned back; you had a hand on the back of his head and one on his shoulder to keep him in place. He let you dictate the pace, let you kiss him however you wanted.
It was slow at first, just your lips on his. You set the tempo low, moved your mouth at a torturous pace. You sucked his bottom lips between both of yours. When your tongue finally poked out, he let his jaw slacken, let you lick into his mouth without a need to fight against it.
You slid your tongue against his. The exchange of saliva was erotic and messy and left Mick panting against you. He gripped the backs of your thighs, adjusted his hips, tangled his fingers in the hem of your dress.
Mick slipped into German as he got lost in want. "Liebe, bitte. Bitte, ich brauche dich." [Baby, please. Please, I need you.]
And you—brilliant, keen, genius you—knew what he was saying. When did you learn German? Did you remember enough of it from all the time you had spent with his family as a child? He had no clue.
"Sei geduldig. We will get there." [Be patient.]
"I have been patient for years. Please, Y/N."
You kissed him again to shut him up, faster, harder, sloppier this time. Your hand slid over the column of his throat, just resting there as nothing but a reminder. He keened into your mouth, the vibration getting caught by your hand.
"I love you," he gasped, out of breath.
You drew back.
Mick's heart stopped.
"You love me?"
He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing against your hand. "Yes. I have since we were kids. I don't— I don't want this if this is all it will be. I want everything with you. I want you to love me, too."
Somehow, it was still easy for him to lay all his cards on the table, to let you see everything and wait for your verdict. He was terrified, yes, but he trusted you implicitly.
He loved you and only you—he had only ever loved you this desperately and wholly, thirteen years apart be damned.
"I'm in love with you," he said.
You seemed breathless and speechless all at once.
He knows he said too much. It was definitely overwhelming to have all of that said to you with no warning but once he started, he couldn't stop. He had kept it all to himself for so long, watching from afar, never able to get close to you.
Now, here you were. He only hoped he had not read into things that were not there. He looked up at you, ice blue eyes wide and hopeful, patiently awaiting your response.
"I love you, too," you said on an exhale. "I'm in love with you, too. I thought I was crazy for it but I think I've always loved you."
Mick was not entirely convinced that this all wasn't some sick wet dream he would wake up from in the morning. He didn't care. He couldn't care, not when you slid your hand up to his jaw, held his face so gently, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.
"It's always been you, Mick."
He couldn't stop himself anymore. He pulled you close, guided your legs to either side of his hips, held your head and kissed you.
Dominance was shared this time as you kissed each other. You sighed into his mouth, a contented and wanting sound. You rested your arms on his shoulders as your tongues danced. His hands pushed up higher under the skirt of your dress, squeezing the soft skin of your upper thighs.
"Okay?" was the simple question he asked before taking things any further.
"Please."
Supporting your weight, Mick lifted you out of his lap and laid you out on your back. Hovering over you, he slid a hand up your dress to your hip. He caught the waistband of your underwear, glanced up at you to make sure.
You nodded.
He got both hands under your dress to pull your underwear off. He pushed your legs apart and you let them fall open, exposing yourself to him and he nearly moaned at the sight alone.
You were laid open and not quite bare with your dress still on but your pretty pink folds were in clear view. He had never expected to have you in any way, let alone spread open and ready to be ravished, but to say he hadn't imagine it two hundred times over would be a lie.
He moved down your body to kiss your left thigh, first closer to your knee then moving up so the soft, supple skin of your inner thigh. He let his breath fan over your pussy, felt the way you twitched at the sensation. Then, he kissed back down your right leg, trailing kisses down to your knee.
"Mick," you urged.
He bit back the repetition of your words about patience from earlier, instead deciding to be nice and lift your knees up over his shoulders, slide his arms under your legs to warp around and hold them in place, then settle in between your thighs like he had nowhere to be for quite some time.
Your folds were glistening in anticipation by the time his lips met them. He kissed over your aching core one, two, three painfully slow times before finally letting his tongue slot against your clit. His lips moved in tandem with his tongue, sucking and licking at the little bundle of nerves until you threw your head back and choked out a throaty moan.
"Mick—please."
That was all the encouragement he needed.
Mick dropped his head to slide his tongue down between your folds, to press at your entrance over and over, lapping at your pussy in a way that could not care about saliva and slick dripping off his chin.
His nose nudged at your clit. Every breath in was nothing but the scent of you ingraining itself in his brain in a way he will never forget. He would never want to forget a single thing about you in that moment.
Not your scent or the taste of your cunt on his tongue. Not the feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair, not pushing or guiding just holding onto him like you just wanted to have your hands on him in any way you could. Not the way you breathed his name halfway between a moan and a cry, or how you arched your back as you were overwhelmed with bliss.
You were coming apart on his tongue and lips and nothing else. If he could save the taste of you and get high on it every night he would. If he could bottle the feeling of you trying not to squirm under the pleasure that he was bringing you, he would drink himself dumb a thousand times over.
"Mick—!"
He hummed in perfect contentment as you cried his name in warning. Your muscles tensed, legs tried to close around his head as he worked you closer and closer to the edge. He just dug in more, ate you out more fervently, slipped his tongue inside of you until you were gasping from the feeling of it.
When he made you come the first time, it was with a cry of his name and panting moans as you bucked your hips up against his face. He worked you through it, kissing and licking at your clit until you were pushing at his head to pull him off.
When he lifted his face from between your thighs, his face was wet, covered in you and he loved it. You laughed breathlessly as you saw him, still shaking slightly from your orgasm.
"Jeez, Mick. When did you learn to go down on a girl like that?"
He was a little lightheaded and a lot pussy drunk, but he still knew better than to mention any girl he'd been with before. "I want you to be the only girl I ever go down on again."
"Good answer," you said, and pulled him up to kiss you as a reward.
You could probably taste yourself on his lips but didn't seem to care as you kissed him hungrily. You tugged at his shirt, so he pulled it over his head. You ran your hands over his torso unabashedly, feeling his stomach and shoulders, bringing goosebumps to his skin as you ran your fingernails down his chest.
Despite having you crumbling apart under his mouth not three minutes ago, when you climbed into his lap and started kissing his neck, Mick felt like he was short circuiting.
Your dress had fallen back over your hips to hide it but he knew you were uncovered underneath the silky fabric. If his pants were off, he could be inside of you right now.
He slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders as you gripped his jaw and tilted his head to the side to kiss at his neck some more. He went pliantly, moaned softly at the feel of your teeth tugging at the sensitive skin where his neck met his clavicle.
He reached around to your back to unzip your dress. When you slid your arms out of the straps and he pulled the top of the dress down, he was finally able to get his hands on your boobs, taking big handfuls of each.
You were still kissing and licking his neck, teasing your teeth against his skin every so often. When he ran his thumbs over your nipples until they were hard under his fingers, your breaths grew shaky. He carefully let his nails drag over the firm peaks, pinched them between his thumbs and forefingers and tugged until you were arching into him.
"So handsy," you commented breathlessly.
"I want to touch every inch of you until you can recognize me by feel alone."
Mick dropped his head between your breasts, kissed the skin there and the side of your boob before you pushed him back. He whined as you deprived him of becoming acquainted with another part of yourself he already knew he would never get enough of.
Then, you stood and stepped out of your dress to leave yourself bare. He couldn't find a reason to complain.
He was prepared to slide to the floor at your feet. Then, you beckoned him toward you.
You had him sit at the edge of the bed again. You dropped to your knees. You popped the button of his pants. You pulled his boxers down just enough, and then his cock was stood at full attention just in front of your face.
He cursed under his breath. You heard it and smirked before licking up the underside of his cock. You wrapped a warm hand around him, stroked him a few times while kitten licking at his tip.
"Y/N. Liebe, please. Y/N, please."
You were not as easily convinced to dive in and give Mick what he wanted as he was with you. You didn't change what you were doing, just continued to let the tip of your tongue dance along the top of his cock while your hand moved on him slowly.
You finally closed your lips over the head of his dick and Mick could have come from that and nothing more. You popped him out of your mouth with an audible noise. Mick groaned; you would be the death of him and he wouldn't even fight against it.
You shot him a Cheshire grin. The sight was lewd and unbelievably hot: you, with a hand around his cock and a big smile on your face like you enjoyed nothing more than sucking him off. Mick was going to combust if he wasn't inside of you in the next two minutes.
"Y/N—"
He tried to tell you as much but your mouth was on him again and he couldn't get the words out. You swirled your tongue around his head, then your jaw opened and and you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. It was warm and wet.
Your tongue flexed against the underside of his dick when it hit the back of your throat. He could feel himself press into your soft pallet until you had to come up for air with a slight gag.
He couldn't bring himself to make you stop when you went back in for more. His breaths were short and labored, legs tense under your free hand as he mentally and physically had to hold himself back from coming down your throat.
He could imagine how you would gag around him when he did, pulling up to take his load just behind your lips instead. You might open your mouth after he had finished, show him your handiwork as it was pooled on your tongue before swallowing it all.
"Y/N, you have to stop. I'm going to come."
You took him out of your mouth to press a sloppy kiss to his cock. You pouted up at him as you let his length rest against your face. He could feel your eyelashes against it when you blinked.
"You don't want me to make you come?"
"I don't want to be spent yet. Come lay down for me?"
You let him pull you off the floor, kissed him as you crawled up the bed and laid yourself out on your back. He managed to kick his pants and boxers off while searching his suitcase for a condom then get back over to you without tripping over his own feet.
You giggled at his eagerness. Your hands ran over his chest as he ripped the packet open and slid the condom on. Your legs were already parted for him as he positioned himself.
He glanced up at you, not nervous but checking in. Your gaze was set on where your two bodies were about to fit together, hungry and expectant. Who was Mick to deprive you of what you wanted?
Entering you was as easy as anything with you was. You were still soaked from Mick's saliva and your own fluids. Your mouth fell open and your walls fluttered around him. A moan croaked past your lips as you gripped his arms.
"Holy shit, Mick."
He had to be sure, so he asked, "Are you alright?"
"I'm in fucking ecstasy. Oh my god, baby."
Mick started moving his hips, long, slow strokes in and out as you keened beneath him, panting from almost nothing at all. He could live off the noises you made for him. He snapped his hips against yours, was rewarded with a gasp and startled little mewl and your fingernails digging into his biceps.
"Mick, please."
He continued the same slow pace. In and out, almost languid, near torture but so worth the desperate way you pulled at his shoulders and hips, physically trying to get him to speed up, to give you more.
"Mick. Go faster."
"I love you." Anything for you.
He made a smooth transition from rolling his hips against yours to making them a piston, pace and weight faster and harder. He bore down on you heavier. You cried out, dragging your nails down his back to only spur him on.
He sat back, pressed down on you with his hands on the backs of your knees to fold you in half. You couldn't easily get away from him when he had you pinned down like this, thighs spread wide and pussy bared to be split open on his cock. You tipped your head back and moaned loudly.
"You've got to try and be quiet, baby," he told you; you were still in a hotel.
"You're making it really difficult."
Mick grinned but eased off just a bit. "Sorry—"
"Don't you fucking dare. Fuck me, Schumacher. Fuck me hard."
So, he did.
.
You were sticky, shaking, and more than satisfied when Mick was through with you. Three more orgasms, four different positions, and five I love you's later, you had passed out against Mick's chest after he had carefully wiped you clean.
The next morning, you and Mick came down for breakfast together. Max was already there; you usually ate breakfast with your brother if you were staying in the same hotel because there wasn't much time to see him elsewhere on race weekends.
When he clocked the way you and Mick were so casually close together, the little looks you kept sneaking, he smacked a hand on the table and pointed an accusatory finger in your face.
"I knew it!"
Mick went red.
You just rolled your eyes. "Shut up, Max."
. . .
a/n. this was partially inspired by this one max fic i read a while ago that i couldn't find again. it's schumacher!reader x max and reader is the one to tell michael about how jos treats max then reader and max reconnect years later. i think it was inspired by "seven" by taylor swift.
if anyone can find it/the author lmk and i'll give credit! hope you enjoyed <3
edit: credit is due to @mastermind123 (who i cannot tag for some reason) and their story, seven. go read it; it’s so cute!!
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pairing: lando norris X american!reader / mclaren photographer!reader and slight pato o'ward X reader
warnings: swearing
summary: a remix of my fic wanna be yours in social media au form. or basically lando and the reader both being in love with each other but being too stubborn and scared to say anything so they suffer in silence until one finally crumbles.
contains: best friends to slight strangers to lovers, pining, angst, jealous!lando, asshole!lando, clueless!lando, and perhaps a little lando or pato? situation.
masterlist
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may 21st, 2024
y/n.jpg added to their story @4:19 p.m.
patriciooward replied to your story
↳ UBER DRIVER???
y/bsf replied to your story
↳ he picked you up from the airport and got you frozen yogurt.. girl 🤭🤭
may 22nd, 2024
may 23rd, 2024
liked by patriciooward, y/bsf, logansargeant and 104,000 others
y/n.jpg: a perfect day
patriciooward: with the perfect girl ❤️ -liked by author
y/bsf: 😏😏
↳ y/n.jpg: do you to be want blocked?
patriciooward: wait my eyes are closed in the last pic… you're a photographer and couldn't get one with my eyes open??
↳ y/n.jpg: you wouldn't stop squinting 😣
logansargeant: gonna miss you this weekend. be sure to consume enough red 40 and ranch for the both of us.
↳ y/n.jpg: i may or may not have a couple bottles of ranch already in my suitcase to bring back...
↳ logansargeant: I LOVE YOU -liked by author
user1: HELLO??? HOW CAN I BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS???
user2: oh this is practically a hard launch
user3: lando y/n truthers stay strong
landonorris: so this is why you can’t respond to my texts
↳ this comment has been deleted
may 24th, 2024
y/n.jpg added to their story
liked by patriciooward, y/bsf, landonorris and 120,000 others
y/n.jpg: carb day you are always so much fun. how do i convince the fia to create their own carb day?
y/bsf: EVERYONE IF YOU END UP EVER GOING WEAR SUNSCREEN!!! i'm miserable 😣
↳ y/n.jpg: i told you to wear sunscreen
patriciooward: how did you sneak off to the snake pit??
↳ y/n.jpg: don't even act like you weren't there with me
↳ patriciooward: 🧍
martingarrix: i'll get the ball rolling by nominating myself to be the dj.
↳ y/n.jpg: well good because i only had you in mind.
user1: lando in the likes?!?! is my family done fighting?
user2: is this us finding out that y/n and martin know each other and that means lando introduced them and that they are close enough for him to comment on her stuff?? oh the y/n lando lore goes deeper than we thought.
user3: isn't it like 2 in the morning in monaco.. lando go to bed... she's mine.
user9: the way you guys talk about lando and y/n is ridiculous. he literally has a girlfriend or did everyone forget??
may 25th, 2024
Sky Sports F1 Post Qualifying Interview
y/n.jpg added to their story at 7:10 p.m. and 8:30 p.m.
y/bsf replied to your story
↳ WHAT????!!!?! THE HELL????
taglist: @coff33andb00ks @daisyfreecs @mel164 @hurtblossom @the-untamed-soul @ameliaalvarez06 @ahnneyong @landotd @spideylovin @wobblymug @vizzzashley @urfavsgf @lunamelona @sunflowervol18 @kiwi43-81 @horneybeach1 @czennieszn @dontworryboutitokie @weekendlusting @deamus-liv @lexiecamposv @nikki1dxx @eggingamazinglove
Rule Breaker - Pt 3
max Verstappen x single mom!reader
{masterlist}{prev} {next}
warnings: cursing, jos is an even bigger asshole, barely proofread, logan's there, glazed-over mentioning of childhood trauma Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 7937 (i got so carried away holy shit) auth.note: listen, eagle boy swayed me with his pretty eyes and soft voice... also this was a great excuse for me to rewatch Mulan for the millionth time. spotify: i made a playlist
"Team meeting in ten," GP commented.
Max nodded, eyes following y/n through the window as she paced in the small courtyard, talking on her phone. He hadn't seen or spoken to her since they'd finished the Q and A the day before. Surprisingly, he'd actually enjoyed it. He told himself it was because she'd made sure to gather thought provoking questions, not because some of his answers had made her laugh and her laugh made him feel relaxed. GP turned to look out the window and Max quickly looked down at his plate, even though he'd just taken the last bite of his breakfast. When the engineer turned back, Max could feel his amused expression.
"Looks like it might rain," GP said casually.
Nodding again, Max washed down the last of his food with his coffee. "More chances for fuck ups."
"It's not a crime."
He finally looked up. "What?"
GP nodded towards the window.
"If rain was a crime, would they put god in prison?" Max asked, keeping his face blank when his friend snorted and rolled his eyes.
"You're not a robot, Max."
From the corner of his eye he could see her approaching Christian, who was coming from the garage. "I never said I was."
"Then stop acting like one. You're still young, I guess you're attractive, and you're at the top of your career."
"Thank you for that endorsement," Max said drily. Horner had stepped aside with y/n, whose hands were moving as she spoke to him. "I'll be sure and put it in my Tinder profile."
GP's eyebrows lifted. "You have one?"
"Fuck no." He pushed his chair back. "I don't have time."
"Max," his friend sighed.
"I'll see you at the meeting." He took care of his dishes, making sure to thank the staff working the dining area before leaving the motorhome, telling himself it was so he could get some fresh air and clear his head for the meeting. His legs carried him around the corner to where y/n and Christian were still talking, and he boldly approached.
"…speak to him." Christian shot a look at Max.
"If he was joking I wouldn't think twice about it.," y/n said, frowning. "But I don't see how it could have been. He was extremely rude, implied I wasn't worth hiring based on my looks, and…"
Max kept his mouth shut, knowing she needed to do the speaking. Giving her a faint nod when she looked at him, he felt a glimmer of pride when she straightened her shoulders.
"I didn't spend four years in college – sorry, university – and work three jobs at once to be demeaned. I know I have the skills and drive to do my job, but if this team continues to foster that sort of toxic environment you'll have to look for a new social media admin," she said firmly.
He tried to but couldn't keep the smile from forming.
Christian looked slightly impressed, giving her a reassuring nod. "I understand. He's not employed by us, he's only here by our good graces."
"I know he's the father of the your top driver, and I spoke with him before coming to you," she said, as though Max wasn't standing right there.
Christian pressed his lips together and Max knew he was trying to hide his smile. "Of course. We'll deal with it, I promise."
"Thank you." She relaxed, sighing softly. "I'm not trying to cause trouble, Mr. Horner."
"It's Jos fucking Verstappen, he's the trouble," Christian muttered. "Don't worry, alright? If anyone ever gives you a problem, reach out to me."
She nodded. "Thanks again. Oh!" She turned to Max, smiling hopefully. "I already asked Checo and he said yes to doing it this week. Would you be up to 24 hours with you at Monaco? Not the full 24 hours since I don't want to watch you sleep, but I just stick with you for the rest of the day and show fans a behind the scenes look at what a practice or quali day for you looks like."
"Why?" he asked, still stuck on the thought of her watching him sleep.
"Well! Casual fans don't realize how much work goes into being you. The training and diet and analyzing and teamwork. All the stuff you do even before practice and quali, like walking the track."
"For the whole day."
"Yeah, except for sleeping. I mean, that would probably really ramp up views, but—"
"I'm not that interesting though," he said. Why would anyone want to spend a practice or quali day with him?
"Oh don't start with the modesty. You're an elite athlete. I'm not asking you to invite me into your bedroom and let me show your bed to the world, just a small peek at what you're like. We can highlight your sim racing, explain how it's helped you learn the tracks so well. Talk about your suit, why the fireproof is so important." She tipped her head. "Maybe a shot of your suitcase to prove you do have clothes other than Red Bull gear? If you do, because I'm beginning to think you only have one pair of jeans and a Red Bull shirt."
He laughed at that, shaking his head. "I guess I can do it. We'll see how Checo's goes."
"Perfect. Speaking of, I'm doing that tomorrow so I gotta start posting to hype it up—"
"Meeting in two minutes," Christian told them.
Max looked at him, chagrined to admit he'd forgotten the man was there. "On the way," he promised, rubbing the back of his neck when Christian shot him a knowing look and headed off. Turning back to y/n, he cleared his throat. "I'm not showing my suitcase to the world."
"Is it that embarrassing?" she asked, clicking her tongue in sympathy. "Do you have Red Bull boxers too?"
"No, I—" he cut off, remembering the company's joke birthday gift to him the year before. "Okay, I do, but they're not in my suitcase."
"At least let me throw a team logo pillow on the bed—"
"Absolutely not."
She fell into step next to him, an extra bounce in her walk. "Are you saying there's already one there?"
He shouldn't say it. It would probably be inappropriate. He told himself that repeatedly, even as he drew a breath and opened his mouth. "Why the interest in my bed?"
"I told you, I love sleep. Oh." She frowned. "It'll be a hotel bed anyway."
Opening the motorhome door for her, he glanced up at the cloudy sky as the aroma of flowers he couldn't identify washed over him. "No?"
"Are you saying you get an Airbnb?" she asked in confusion. "Do they even have that in Monaco—"
"You didn't know? I thought you asked Google everything," he teased.
Her brow furrowed deeply. "Didn't know what?"
"I live in Monaco. So no, it wouldn't be a hotel room."
The confusion melted away, her eyes widening a little. "Oh. Wow."
"Wow?" he echoed, heading to the stairs.
"You're rich rich."
"Don't say that," he requested, making a face. She made wealth sound dirty.
"In my defense I didn't think to look up everyone's salary when I got hired. I mean I knew you were rich, but—"
"Stop saying it—"
"Sorry." She smiled sweetly, which told him she wasn't sorry at all. "Have a good meeting, Max. Oh, wait!"
He stopped at the top of the stairs, huffing when she lifted her phone and snapped a photo of him. "Why do you need a picture of me right now?"
"To show the world that even Max Verstappen, three time world champion, record breaker and maker, is sometimes late for a meeting."
Dragging a hand over his face, he sighed. "You're in a strange mood today."
"I'm getting comfortable. It's what I do. Lull everyone into thinking I'm sweet and quiet, then once I know I can relax I let my true self out."
"I'm scared to ask what your true self is," he admitted, ignoring his phone when it began to buzz with a phone call.
"Chaos," she told him, snapping another photo. "And I'm so putting a team logo pillow on your bed next week."
"No," he warned her as she turned to go back down the stairs. "No pillow."
"Go to your meeting or I'll post on Twitter than you have Red Bull boxers!"
"You wouldn't."
"Try me, rich boy."
And, damn everything, he laughed. She spun at the bottom of the stairs, giving him a smile that was pure sunshine. Not about to tempt fate, he held up his hands in surrender and went to the conference room for the meeting, still smiling as he slid into his seat next to Checo. When the meeting was over he hung back, his smile long gone as he waited for whatever Christian had to say.
"Two things," Christian started, leaning back in his seat with a sigh.
Max rolled his water bottle between his hands and stayed silent.
"Your dad."
He nodded. "I'll talk to him—"
"He's on probation now. If he so much as looks at anyone the wrong way, he'll be banned from the garage and the paddock." Christian steepled his hands. "It would probably be best if I did it now, but…"
"I'll talk to him," Max said again, already dreading that conversation. "Sometimes he speaks before he thinks, and unfortunately y/n was on the receiving end."
"Are you defending him?"
"No. I'm saying…" What was he saying? He didn't even know himself, so how could he explain it to Christian?
"You're saying what he would expect you to say. Max." Christian leaned forward. "I know he's your father. But – what did y/n say? He creates a toxic environment."
Max was on his feet and pacing before he realized he was moving. "What do you want me to do? Cut him out of my life completely? He's my dad. He made me who I am." Slinging his cap onto the table, he ran a hand through his hair. "He gave up on a marriage so I could achieve my dreams. I know people call it abuse and yeah if I could change the past I would, or at least some parts, but… Would I be me if he didn't do what he did?"
Christian sighed and Max hung his head. The bitterness between team principal and his father had been around as long as he could remember. And he understood, he did. Most days even he didn't like Jos that much.
"What he said to y/n was unacceptable. I know that. When she told me, I…" He paused, unsure whether he wanted to admit what his first thoughts had been. Starting to pace again, he stopped at the window and looked outside, noting that the earlier clouds had rolled away. "I was ready to tell you to ban him."
Christian nodded. "You sure you want to talk to him? Because I'll do it. I don't have a problem telling him to go fuck himself."
"I should do it," Max said with a sigh.
There was silence from Christian, and Max finally snatched up his hat and sat back down. "I'll do it, Max."
He would never admit to the rush of relief at those words. "What was the other thing?"
"Y/n."
He set his jaw. "What about her?"
"She's off limits."
Max blinked. "How do you mean?"
"I've seen the way you look at her."
He pinched his eyebrows together. He wasn't aware he'd been looking at her in any particular way. He just…looked at her. It was true that she did make him smile a little bit more than he usually did, but that had to be due to her self-professed chaos—
"It's in her contract. Yours too, I'm sure."
"I'm – Nothing's happened." Yes, she'd slept in his private room and yes, his sheets had smelled of her and given him dreams he shouldn't have been dreaming. But nothing else had happened.
Soft hands, plush hips, bright eyes, lush mouth—
"Keep it that way. We can't afford another PR disaster."
Max snorted, unsure how anything he did – not that he would do anything – with y/n could come close to the disaster Christian had caused. "I'm not texting her, so."
"Cheeky bastard," Christian muttered. "Go get prepped for practice."
Grabbing his water bottle from the floor, Max left. Off limits. What the hell did that even mean? He couldn't be friendly with her? He couldn't keep his promise to watch a movie with Kevin?
Fuck Christian anyway, he wasn't one to talk about someone being off limits, he decided. He went down for another coffee, inconspicuously looking around for y/n. Not seeing her, he turned his attention to the upcoming practice, trying his best to push his worries about his father to the back of his mind.
When he approached the garage he saw her, and he frowned slightly when he saw Logan talking to her. Did they know each other? They obviously did, judging by the way she laughed at something he said. Sourness filled his mouth and he gulped down his water, grunting when a hand suddenly clapped his shoulder.
"Mate, you coming out tonight?" Lando asked with a grin.
"Not a good idea to go out before quali, mate," Max said automatically.
"I'm not gonna get drunk. A few of us are just going out to eat. You in?"
"I think I'll skip it. But we'll go out Sunday?"
Lando's grin widened and Max chuckled, knowing he was remembering what little he could of the celebration in Miami. Lando loved to party after a race. "Absolutely. Good practice, yeah?"
Max grinned, bumping fists with him before they parted. The American was still talking to y/n. Didn't he need to get ready? Go fluff his hair or something? Walking up to them, he nodded at Logan. "Have a good practice alright, mate?"
"Oh, yeah, better get to the garage." Logan turned and flashed a smile at y/n. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Sure. Be safe," she said.
She was smiling a little too hard, in his opinion. And then she was—
Hugging? Him?
Max felt like he might vomit.
"Later, Max," Logan said as he jogged off.
"What did he want?" Max asked.
She looked up from checking something on her camera. "Hm? Oh, nothing, just chatting. He's nice."
"Yeah, a complete sweetheart," he said with a roll of his eyes. Then, shoving the sourness away, he cleared his throat. "I've got the sim racing tomorrow after quali, then the race is Sunday."
Y/n blinked, then nodded slowly. "Yes?"
"I promised Kevin we'd watch the movie?" he reminded her.
"Oh, yeah. Don't worry about it, I know you're too busy. He hasn't even mentioned it again, I'm sure he's already forgotten." She turned slightly and knelt to take pictures of his car in the garage.
"But I promised."
"Max, it's really not that big a deal."
It was. To her it might not be. If she couldn't do something with her son when she had promised she could, she was able to do it another time. He couldn't just show up to her flat to watch a movie. And Kevin had been so excited… He tried not to remember all the promises that had been made to him as a child, promises he had learned at an early age would never be kept. "Y/n…"
She looked up at him, drawing a breath to, he was sure, tell him again that it was fine. But she paused, studying his face, and he heard her sigh as she lowered the camera. "This is really important to you, isn't it?"
"And to Kevin," he pointed out.
"He did talk about it a lot last night before he went to sleep. Made sure the hotel tv had Disney plus and asked if Ellie would buy some popcorn…" She sighed, smiling. "Did you want to do it next week before Monaco?"
"I was thinking today? After the practice and debrief. If you're not too busy," he added, unintentionally looking towards the Williams garage.
"No, I don't have any plans. Just editing and posting, and I can do that while you two watch a movie. I've got plans for dinner, but there's plenty of time."
"Plans?" he asked, trying his best to sound casual.
"Yeah! Logan offered to take me out to see a little of the town. He's offered to be my tour guide."
At night. Now he knew he would vomit. "How delightful," he managed.
"Yeah, he's sweet. Don't worry, I won't give away any secrets."
The sourness returned, doubled, and he recognized it now as jealousy. Which was beyond ridiculous, because she wasn't his to be jealous over. Seeing that she was about to stand he immediately offered his hand, easily steadying her as she rose to her feet.
"Thanks."
He wondered what sort of cream she used on her hands. They were so soft. "Y/n—"
"Max!"
Y/n's smile faded and she practically snatched her hand away. "I'll message you the hotel info," she said, turning on her heel and sweeping into the garage.
"I need to talk to you," his father demanded.
Looking into the garage, he saw that he had a full thirty minutes before practice began. No way out of this conversation. Nodding, he followed his father to a relatively secluded spot, keeping his head down.
*-*
"His father is such an asshole, honestly. We were talking outside the garage and he marched up like he owns the—" Y/n glanced to make sure Kevin still had his headphones on and wasn't listening in. Seeing that he did and wasn't, she turned back to Ellie. "—fucking place and barked at him all 'I need to talk to you' like the guy isn't about to go out on the track."
Ellie made a face. "What a prick. What did he have to say to him that was so important?"
Y/n shrugged, bending to gather the dirty pair of socks off the floor. "No idea. He dragged him off and I could see them but couldn't hear anything. I felt so bad for Max."
"I would have too. And he didn't say anything when he got back to the garage?" Ellie smoothed the bedding while y/n stuffed the dirty laundry into a sack.
"Not to me." Sighing, y/n dropped the sack inside the bathroom and then got down on her hands and knees to make sure nothing embarrassing was lying around. "He looked like a kid getting yelled at, Ellie. I had no idea his dad was that much of an—"
She saw Kevin moving and stopped, getting to her feet while he set his tablet and headphones on the table. "Gotta pee, mama," he said, sliding out of the chair.
"Did you finish your game?" she asked while Ellie looked around to make sure the hotel room was presentable.
"Yeah, it's easy," Kevin said.
"Are you gonna tell him?" Ellie whispered.
"No… What if he can't make it? I don't want to get his hopes up." Y/n pushed the chair in at the table and checked the tablet, seeing that Kevin had indeed finished the alphabet game she'd downloaded that morning for him.
"If he doesn't come, maybe we can—" Ellie laughed when there was a knock at the door. "Never mind."
"It might not be him," y/n muttered, even though she knew it had to be. He'd been so insistent, and she'd been able to tell that it was possibly more important to him than it would be to Kevin.
"I'll make sure the lil rugrat washes his hand," Ellie murmured, slipping into the bathroom.
Y/n rubbed her hands on her thighs and went to open the door, giving the hotel room one last glance before doing so. And, just as she'd known, Max was in the hallway. "Hey," she greeted softly, eyes widening a little when she saw he was wearing a pair of sweats and a hoodie. "Holy shit, you're allowed to wear non-Red Bull clothes?"
He snorted, letting out a laugh when she just stared at him. "Very funny."
"No, no, I'm serious. Isn't that in your contract or something?" Stepping back, she finally gave him a grin. "C'mon in."
"I don't know if he's allowed, but I brought some sweets." Max held up the grocery bag hanging from one finger.
"Yeah, he's allowed. No allergies or anything," she assured him, closing the door once he'd stepped inside. "He's washing his—"
"Mister Max!"
Y/n nearly teared up. Her son sounded so excited, and she had a moment of panic for letting him befriend Max. He was too busy to drop by regularly, and after Monaco Kevin would be staying home with Ellie, so—
"There's my little mate!"
Fuck's sake, even Max sounded excited. As though a movie with a three year old was the height of his day. Looking on as he swung Kevin up and spun him in a circle, she took the bag and emptied the packets onto the table while Ellie greeted Max and brought out the popcorn from where she'd hidden it from Kevin. Max and Kevin talked nonstop to one another, Max telling him about practice after Kevin gave him a detailed report on what he'd done all day. The boy grabbed his tablet and showed him the games he'd played, showing off his alphabet skills.
"You're good with letters, yeah? Maybe you'd be good learning a new language?" Max suggested.
"Do you know a new language?" Kevin asked.
"He's really good with him," Ellie whispered to y/n.
"Shh," she hissed. Because she already knew. And she didn't need it pointed out to her. Besides, she was listening to Max tell Kevin about the languages he spoke, then to him rattle off a few sentences in each one, much to Kevin's amazement.
"Can you teach me?" he asked hopefully.
"When I can, kleine maat." Max ruffled Kevin's hair. "That means little mate."
"You're my big mate," Kevin decided.
"Grote maat," Max said, repeating it slowly a couple times before Kevin said it properly. "There you go. You'll be speaking Dutch like a pro in no time."
"You want a drink, Max?" Y/n offered. "We don't have Red Bull, sorry—"
"Water's fine. Thanks."
"Can I have water too, mama?"
Nodding, y/n fixed their drinks while Kevin turned on the TV and opened Disney+, rolling her eyes when he told Max the password so he could put it in for him. She saw that Ellie was putting on her shoes and raised her eyebrows. "Where are you going?"
"Oh, I don't want to intrude on big mate, little mate bonding time," Ellie said with a small smile. Peeling Kevin from Max long enough to give him a quick hug, she grabbed her wallet and phone. "And I've seen Mulan about six hundred times, so I'm just gonna go for a walk. Take pictures. Get a coffee and a pastry."
"Have fun," y/n said.
"Mhmm, you too," Ellie said with a smirk as she left.
She rolled her eyes and handed Max his drink then Kevin his cup. Motioning for Max to have a seat on the small sofa, she couldn't help but smile when Kevin immediately climbed to sit next to him, and had the feeling that before the movie was over her son would be cuddled close to his big mate.
"Join us?" Max asked while Kevin looked for the movie.
"Work," she reminded him, transferring the sweets and popcorn to the coffee table and getting her laptop. "I'll watch from here."
"It doesn't look very comfortable."
"It shouldn't. It's work."
He looked ready to argue, but instead took a sip of his water and grabbed a bag of candy. Tossing it onto the table, he gave a small shrug when she looked at him. "You said you like strawberry milk."
Y/n looked from him to the bag several times. He remembered that? She'd mentioned it during the Q and A, when the question had been other than red bull what's your favorite drink? Staring at the bag, she felt a sudden rush of warmth. No one had bought her candy in so long… "Thank you," she murmured.
"You're welcome," he said softly.
She almost told him he didn't have to, but she knew that he already knew that. He'd done it because… She didn't know. Maybe to apologize for his father's behavior. Maybe to show he listened. Maybe, just maybe, because he'd seen it in the shop, remembered her liking strawberry milk, and had bought it because that was something he did, buy a little something for no other reason than you said you liked it.
She tried to focus on work, but the movie kept getting her attention. Finally she gave up, scheduling the posts she'd edited and closing her laptop. Grabbing a bottle of water, she joined them on the sofa as Mushu revealed himself to Mulan. As she'd expected, Kevin had already crawled into Max's lap, sharing his bag of popcorn with the man as they both focused on the movie.
"Mama," Kevin whispered, reaching for her.
She scooted closer, sighing as he turned so he could lean against her arm. Max shifted, and she tried to act nonchalant when he draped his arm behind her on the back of the sofa. Smoothing her son's hair, she pretended not to notice when the arm slid to her shoulders. He probably hadn't even noticed, she told herself, aware that his eyes were locked on the TV screen, paying attention to the movie. When Kevin's favorite part began he sat up, quickly sliding to the floor to sing along and she fully expected Max to pull away from her.
But he didn't, and she pulled her knees up, unable to focus on anything except the weight of his arm around her. It was solid but not uncomfortable, a very real reminder that she hadn't been in this position in a very long time.
"He's so mean," Kevin mumbled as Shun-Yu appeared on the screen. Y/n waited for him to hurry over to climb into her lap but he chose Max instead, and she bit back a sigh when the man gently soothed him, hugging him close.
"It's okay, kleine maat. The good guys will beat him, yeah?" he murmured, pausing the movie.
Kevin nodded against Max's shoulder. "Yeah but he's bad."
"A lot of people are," Max said softly. "But if we focus on that we don't see the good. Do you think about your happy days more or your bad days?"
"Happy days," Kevin said.
"Because they make you happy, yeah? If you think about bad days you'll always be having them. It's like that with people. Focus on the good and do what you can to keep the bad from happening. Bad happens, but the good will always be there."
"Okay."
"You ready to finish the movie?" Max asked gently.
Kevin nodded.
Max finally looked at y/n, glancing down when he saw the way she was staring at him. "I didn't—"
"No, you're good," she promised in a whisper, picking up the remote to resume the movie then hugging her knees. If she didn't occupy her arms, she would throw them around him. Usually she had to explain those things to Kevin. Ellie helped, of course, but Kevin always came to her for more explanation after a life lesson. But Max… He'd explained it so eloquently and gently that he'd understood. And she didn't know why, but, god help her…
It was the sexiest thing she'd ever witnessed.
His arm stayed around her shoulders through the rest of the movie. When Mulan was cast out, she got a little emotional as she always did, even after over six hundred views, and she felt his arm tighten around her, hesitating a tiny bit before letting her head lean against him. All she could smell now was him, the gentle but memorable sandalwood and amber scent that she remembered well from the day before.
"Gotta pee," Kevin announced a little bit later, clambering down and running to the bathroom. Max took the remote to pause the movie.
Y/n began to pull away, lifting her head when he squeezed her arm.
"You're fine," he whispered.
His face was so close. Seeing a tiny piece of popcorn on his chin, she reached up to brush it away, freezing at the sound of his sharp inhale. "Sorry, you got a little…"
When the hell had his eyes become so blue? Just a day ago they'd been a normal blue. Now they reminded her of the antique blue willow china her great grandmother had treasured. Her gaze slipped to his mouth and quickly moved back to his eyes and she heard him inhale again.
"Max?"
"Y/n, I…" His eyes flicked down and she unconsciously licked her lips.
She knew she shouldn't but she suddenly, desperately, wanted to know what it was like to kiss him. She hadn't thought about kissing anyone in what felt like a lifetime, but now she needed it. Lifting her chin slightly, she dropped her hand to his chest. "Max—"
"Y/n, you… I—"
"Okay!"
She snatched herself away from Max as though she'd been burned, going so far as to jump to her feet while Kevin rushed back to the sofa. "Go ahead and hit play, I'll be back in just a minute," she promised, nearly tripping over nothing in her haste to get as far away from Max as possible. "Hit play, it's fine, I've seen it a million times."
Once in the bathroom she closed the door and leaned against it, covering her face with both hands. What the hell was wrong with her? Just because she hadn't been kissed since— She dropped her hands, wrinkling her nose in thought. Kevin was three years and two months, and… At any rate, it had been so long she'd assumed she was never going to be kissed again. She hadn't even thought about it in ages, because she'd been so focused on work and raising her son and trying to survive. Now, all of a sudden, she was craving one so bad she'd practically begged him.
He'd been about to tell her he couldn't. She was sure of that. Which only made it even more embarrassing. How could he even want to? She'd seen the girlfriends of other drivers on the grid, there was no way he'd be even remotely interested in her. She wasn't a model or tennis star or whatever their occupations were.
Not to mention she couldn't. It would be wrong on so many levels. What kind of impression would her behavior leave on her son? Not to mention the troubles it would cause at work? And it was in her contract that any sort of fraternization with other members of the team were forbidden. She'd known that but she had read the full contract on the flight to Italy. If she and Max did anything it would eventually come out and she'd be jobless again, this time in a foreign country.
Checking her phone when she felt it buzz in her pocket, she sighed while reading Logan's text.
We're still on right?
She wanted to say no. The best thing for her to do would be to suffer through the rest of the movie, say goodbye to Max, have an early dinner, put Kevin to bed, then take the world's coldest shower. But she was already typing out her reply.
Of course! Looking forward to it.
And she was, she thought, seeing the delivered change to read then the three little dots that he was typing a message. Logan was fun. Nice. Completely uninterested in her romantically, she thought with a sigh.
Great. Be there at 8 to pick you up. Give Kev a high 5 for me?
Will do.
Pushing away from the door, she turned on the water to wash her hands and jumped slightly when there was a gentle knock.
"Y/n?"
"I'm almost done," she called.
She heard his sigh. "Can I come in?"
No. "Yeah, sure."
He opened the door and stepped in, and she swallowed when he closed the door behind him. "I…"
"Max, don't," she groaned, washing her hands and grabbing the towel. "You don't have to tell me you wouldn't have… Even if I wanted you to. I know."
"Wouldn't have what?" he asked.
God, could the moment get any more embarrassing? "I – You – Jesus, never mind."
"Kiss you?" he murmured.
Why did the way he said it sound like so much more than a kiss? "It's fine. Go back and finish the movie."
"Y/n, I can't."
"You have to leave?" she asked.
"What – no, not the movie," he said. Cupping a hand over his mouth, he breathed deeply and dropped his hand after a few seconds, looking pained. "I can't kiss you."
"Oh." Oh. "Do you have a girlfriend or—"
"If I had a girlfriend I wouldn't be in this tiny toilet with you."
And she believed him. He didn't seem the type to put himself in a situation that could be misinterpreted if he had a partner. "Right. Of course. Then…"
"It's…" He sighed.
"Are you gay? Because I won't tell any—"
"I'm not gay," he cut in gently. "It's… I'm not allowed to kiss you."
She blinked, suddenly understanding. And she wondered if he'd read the contract, too. "Right. Neither am I."
"Christian talked to you too?"
"No? Why would he?"
"He told me you're off limits." Max shook his head. "Said I look at you or something."
"Oh." He did? And just how did Max look at her? "I see."
"And it's in our contracts. Yours and mine, I mean. So… I can't."
She nodded. "Of course. Understood. No more explanation necessary, Max."
"I wouldn't want you to lose your job," he said softly.
She continued to nod. "Got it. Thanks."
He tipped his head, then reached to take the towel from her and she realized she was still drying her hands. "I'll still be Kevin's friend."
Still nodding, she picked up her hand cream and squeezed a dollop into her palm. "Thanks. He likes you."
"I like him too." He hesitated, watching her carefully. "You okay?"
"Peachy keen," she promised, rubbing the cream into her hands. "Just getting ready for my dinner."
His lips settled into a fine line. "Your date."
The way he said it irritated her. As though she was in the wrong for making plans with a new friend. "It's not a date, but yes."
"I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time," he said with absolutely no emotion.
"Well, he's not contractually obligated to be nice to me, so… I know I will," she said, forcing as much sweetness into her voice as possible.
"I'm not nice because of a contract," he snapped.
"Right, sorry, my mistake. He won't not kiss me because of a piece of paper," she corrected.
Max's eyes flashed, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "I thought it wasn't a date?" he asked carefully.
Good, at least he had some emotion. "Oh, so I'm only allowed to kiss him if we're on a date?"
"I didn't say—" He cut off, pressing his lips tight together and exhaling slowly. "You said it wasn't a date."
"Why do you care either way?"
"Is it a date or not?" he ground out.
"It's not." She took her hair down from the ponytail as he sighed with something like relief. "But it could be in the future."
"What, so you'll kiss him because I won't kiss you?"
"If I kiss him, it'll be because both of us want it," she said. She knew she was being silly, maybe even a little stupid. But he was acting as though he were doing her a favor. As though he were somehow honorable, a gentleman even, because he refused to do what she now knew they both wanted.
"Y/n, I can't—"
"A word I'm sure you're not used to saying about yourself," she muttered under her breath.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, an edge in his voice.
"I didn't know that 'can't' was in your vocabulary is all." Looking at her phone to check the time, she cleared her throat. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to change."
He hesitated while she opened her makeup bag. "Do you want to kiss him?"
"Why do you care?"
He visibly bristled. "I don't want you to get hurt."
"Does he have a reputation for hurting women?" She picked up her hairbrush, and had brushed out her hair completely before he finally answered.
"No." It sounded like it hurt him to say it. "He's nice."
"Then you don't have to worry."
"Where are you going?"
"Oh, no." She laughed humorlessly. "You don't get to ask that. Now please, I have to change."
He stared at her, looking annoyed and irritated, his jaw still twitching. Then, with a huff, he turned to open the door. And froze when he saw the dress hanging from the hook. "Is… That's what you're wearing?"
"Oh my god, Max, you're starting to sound like a jealous boyfriend."
"I'm not jealous," he snorted.
"And you're not my boyfriend," she snapped.
She waited for him to turn around and restart their argument. Altercation. Whatever it was. Instead, he muttered something under his breath and snatched the door open. Went out, closing it. And sounded perfectly normal when he apologized to Kevin and resumed the movie.
Y/n was still annoyed even after changing and doing her makeup. She fussed over her hair, unsure whether she wanted to wear it up or down, finally leaving it down. She was fully aware that she was putting more work into her appearance than she would have if Max hadn't said what he had, and still knew she was being silly and stupid. Hadn't she just told herself nothing could happen between them?
Yes, but maybe if he hadn't acted as though he were doing an immense favor she wouldn't be so upset. I wouldn't want you to lose your job. Indicating that if he kissed her and they were found out, his job was secure.
"Sanctimonious prick," she muttered while she spritzed perfume on her wrists and rubbed them together. As she exited the bathroom the outer door of the room opened and Ellie came in, her jaw dropping when she saw her.
"Holy shit babes, you look amazing!"
She smiled, doing a turn for her friend. "You think so?"
"His jaw is gonna be on the floor the whole time. Holy shit, milf alert." Ellie whistled softly, waving her hand as though overcome with heat.
Y/n giggled. "Thanks."
The movie was ending and Kevin oohed and aahed over her dress, telling her over and over how pretty she was. Max stared at her, his jaw set, but said nothing, looking away and starting to clear up the remains of the snacks.
"Isn't she pretty, grote maat?" Kevin asked.
And even though her back was to him, she felt his gaze. Glancing over her shoulder at him while she fastened her necklace, she watched his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. "Very pretty, kleine maat."
"You're supposed to tell her," Kevin whispered. "Always tell a lady she's beautiful. Right, aunt Ellie?"
"That's right, buddy," Ellie said proudly. She gave y/n an odd look, silently asking what had happened, narrowing her eyes when y/n merely shrugged.
"Because women are pretty all the time," Kevin went on and y/n smiled. At least she was doing something right…
After fastening her earrings she turned from the dresser, breath catching in her throat when she found Max staring at her. Vaguely aware of Ellie telling Kevin to wash his hands so they could eat the dinner she'd brought, she squatted, getting her heels from her suitcase, along with her shawl.
"Je bent mooi," Max said.
She met his gaze as she rose to her feet. "What's that mean?"
"You're beautiful," he whispered.
"Thank you." And though she knew it was catty, she couldn't help the words that slipped out of her mouth. "Do you think Logan will like it?"
His jaw twitched. "He'd be stupid not to."
"That doesn't answer my question," she practically cooed, slipping on her heels.
He made a sound of disgust in his throat. "He's annoying and dumb sometimes, but he's not stupid. So, yes, I think he'll like it."
"Look at you, hyping me up." She wasn't stupid either, she could hear and feel the jealousy. Good, she thought, getting her small handbag and transferring her few necessities to it.
"Is he picking you up?" Max asked. "Or are you meeting him somewhere?"
"Are you gonna stick around and question his intentions?" she scoffed. "Because if so, I'm meeting him."
"I just—"
"Do you want some pasta, Mister Max?" Kevin asked as he came out of the bathroom with Ellie.
"Ah, maybe next time," Max said after clearing his throat. "You eat some for me, hm?"
She wanted to be mad that he was so good with her son. Proclaim they could only ever be coworkers, then turn around and continue to be her son's favorite person. It wasn't fair. But she didn't want him to be mean to Kevin. So she smiled, fixing her shawl while Max told Kevin he would see him at quali tomorrow, wishing she could stay mad at him but that was impossible, especially when he lifted her son up and gave him a tight hug, telling him he'd enjoyed the movie.
"Can we watch another one day?" Kevin asked hopefully and y/n drew in a breath, prepared to say they couldn't ask Max that, he was too busy.
"Of course we can. You pick the movie and we'll watch it next week?"
He gave Kevin another hug then gently encouraged him to eat his dinner, smiling and saying goodnight to Ellie. Then he turned to her, and she felt an unexpected heat ripple through her as his eyes slowly looked her up and down.
"Thanks for coming," she murmured, walking him to the door.
"I enjoyed it." He rubbed the back of his neck. "For the most part."
"Kevin had a great time."
"Yes. And that's all that matters."
Ouch. "Goodnight, Max."
"Enjoy your dinner with Logan."
"I will."
He rocked back on his heels, exhaling harshly. "I'm…" He cleared his throat. "Goodnight, y/n."
She closed the door and bit back a whine. Stupid, stupid, stupid—
"Talk tonight when you get back?" Ellie asked gently, watching her while she fixed Kevin's plate.
"It's nothing," she insisted, double checking that she had everything in her handbag. Phone, ID and passport, room key, lipstick, mirror. "Just being stupid."
"You're not stupid, mama," Kevin said anxiously.
"I know, thank you. Sorry. Just feeling stupid."
"But you look so pretty," he told her.
She smiled, sighing as she crossed the room to kiss his cheek. "You're the best son in the world, you know that?"
He giggled, rubbing the lipstick from his cheek. "And you're the best mama."
"Only because you're the best son," she insisted.
"Do you like Mister Logan?" he asked suddenly, scrunching his face when she fastened the bib around his neck.
"He's nice. But he's just a friend."
"But." Kevin's lips poked out in thought. "He's taking you on a date."
"Dinner. You know how you miss Cotton?" She took a napkin and cleaned the smudge of lipstick from his cheek when he nodded. "He misses America sometimes. It's kind of like when you pet the cats on your walks."
"Ohh…" Kevin nodded with all the understanding a three year old could muster. "So he's gonna pet you?"
She blinked, instinctively reaching to swat Ellie's arm when her friend choked back a giggle. "Not exactly," she groaned. "We're just gonna talk."
Ellie was still giggling ten minutes later when Logan knocked on the door. "Sorry, sorry," she gasped when y/n shot her a glare. "I'll behave."
"That'll be the day," y/n muttered under her breath as she went to open the door. "Hey," she greeted warmly, smiling up at him.
He was dressed in slacks, a button down, and a jacket. His smile faded a little as he stared at her, and she saw his throat move as he swallowed. "Whoa. You look great."
"Thanks. You do too."
She let him in so Kevin could say hi, ducking into the bathroom to fix her lipstick and remind herself that it was just dinner. Logan was just a friend, or at least would hopefully be a friend. Saying goodnight to her son, she felt her shawl slipping, ignoring Ellie's knowing look when Logan immediately reached to catch it, his hands gentle as he draped it over her shoulders. Just dinner. Just dinner with just a friend.
But when they walked down the street to the restaurant, which was just around the corner, and his hand brushed hers she told herself it was alright. And when he slipped his hand protectively over hers she didn't pull away. In the restaurant when Lando and a few others called out to him she hung back, blushing when Logan gently tugged her along to greet his friends.
"Didn't know you had a date tonight, mate," Oscar commented, nodding to her in greeting.
She could have corrected him. Could have announced to everyone that it wasn't a date. But Logan's bashful chuckle warmed her and she smiled. "We American's have to stick together," she said, enjoying Logan's laugh.
"You know, England is an ally," Lando said with a smirk.
"Still haven't forgiven you for taxation without representation," she sighed.
"That wasn't me," Lando defended while the others laughed.
"Your ancestors though," Oscar told him.
"They were doing what they thought was right? How am I at fault now?"
"You opened your mouth," Carlos said with a laugh.
"C'mon, babe, our table's ready," Logan murmured, hand slipping to the small of her back.
"Enjoy your date!" Oscar called after them.
"I hope you trip over your independence!" Lando yelped when Oscar elbowed him.
Laughing, y/n let Logan guide her to the other side of the dining room, where they were thankfully shielded from the table of drivers. He held the chair for her and she thanked him while the waiter handed them the menus.
"I'm sorry about that. Oscar and Lando… I should have told them it wasn't a date," Logan said once they were alone.
"It's fine," she assured him. "I mean, technically, it is a date."
"I guess so. I just don't want you thinking I'm making it out to more than it is."
"What is it?" she asked.
"Two friends, hopefully. Spending time together." He looked up from his menu. "Probably should have taken you somewhere more casual, huh? This place makes it look like I'm trying to impress you."
She hadn't thought of it like that. "…Are you trying to impress me?"
"Do you want me to?"
Their eyes met and she slowly inhaled, thinking over what the best answer would be.
So you'll kiss him because I won't kiss you?
Do you want to kiss him?
She exhaled, sending thoughts of Max as far away as possible. "I think I do."
He looked relieved and oh, so handsome in this light. "Then I might be trying to impress you a little."
"You're doing amazing so far."
taglist
@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris | @kravitzwhore | @younxii | @silentreader128 | @samantha-chicago | @mrsbrxkkxr | @cmleitora |
astonmartinii’s masterlist
if you would like to support me or send me a coffee, please go here ko-fi.com/astonmartini !! another way to support me is to shop at my small business @badlydrawnf1cats on etsy: here
max verstappen
teacher’s pet
babysitter duty
play date
pen pals
study bug
college
teddy bear
into the arms of another part two part three part four
worlds biggest fan part two
behind the camera
we don’t play about halloween
passion for fashion
bite the hand
charles leclerc
big reputation | part two
all is fair in love and war
birthday wishes
the student life part one / part two
love languages
motormouth
cat mom
author
big girls do(n’t) cry
tight knit
friendship bracelets
you and me got a whole lotta history
angel baby, devil child
undercover verstappen
nonsense… or is it? | a very nonsense christmas
oscar piastri
rookie love
a spoonful of sugar
cherry lip balm
i am the rockstar, girlfriend
witchy business
peas in a pod
southern charm
kiss it better
nothing good ever happens at the work christmas party
daniel ricciardo
ric number three
cooking up a storm
rockstar
wedding bells
big apple lovin’
ultimate wing man
i don’t wanna be funny anymore
lewis hamilton
raw chemistry
doggy day care
get the bag
top secret
signed up for life
spice up your life
sebastian vettel
racing royalty
family ties
pierre gasly
we never go out of style
final(ly) girl
mick schumacher
summer breaking
opposites attract
lando norris
lonely hearts club
suck up
team bonding
best friends 4 ever
frost bitten
dj got us falling in love
big time rush
loving on a sunday
head in the clouds
reluctant cupid
bad blood (lando’s version)
ballad of lovebirds and puppy dogs
just add water
george russell
george russell’s the type of guy
first impressions matter
esteban ocon
always the ones you least expect
carlos sainz
journalist
old money
are you going to be my girl?
toto wolff
falling for you
alex albon
nine lives
yuki tsunoda
guess who?
logan sargeant
pick of the crop
lance stroll
brother’s best friend
mamma mia
mamma mia
no more ace to play
honey, honey
age of no regret
a wonderful thing
a very mamma mia christmas
if you need me, let me know, gonna be around
pairing: oscar piastri x fewtrell!reader, lando norris x fewtrell!reader
summary: y/n decides to surprise oscar
warnings: SMAU (no written parts), swearing, mature themes, use of y/n
previous part | masterlist | next part
a/n: thank you all so much for the love and support for this series! it means the world to me 🧡 this chapter was so much fun to put together and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
liked by ynfewtrell and 480,509 others
landonorris nice little weekend to top off a good couple of weeks. ausstrraaaalia next
view all comments
user STRAYA MATE 🤜🤛
user Let’s manifest a Lando win 🧡
user martin is the true wag
user oscar has y/n and lando has martin 😭
user Let's gooooo 🇦🇺🧡
user praying for a landoscar podium 🧡🙏
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TAGLIST: @harrysdimple05 @milkysoop @charlesgirl16 @wosof1 @illicitverstappen @back-on-my-bullsh @revrse @skepvids @piastrams @a-beaverhausen @l-vroom4 @wildflowerhuggy @meglouise00 @formulaal @smithieandy @sltwins @awritingtree @colmathgames2 @org12 @alice-went-away @grovelingmen @taasgirl @anotherapollokid @d3kstar @gnarlycore @leclercdream @skeleton-elly @verstappensrealwife @seonghwaexile @hellowgoodbye @samantha-chicago @delululeclerc @5sospenguinqueen @riverxsq @s0meth1ngs @silentreader128 @cheer-bear-go-vroom @sarahsobsession @raweceekk @willowsnook @nxlx96 @saythename-sm @lesliiieeeee @landopoet @blushmimi @neferaskingdom @oikarma @mayax2o07 @obxstiles @speeedybaby
Interaction between student and teacher.
This is me answering a math problem on the board which is a very rare instance. Due to my professor’s accepting and easy going attitude I was able to comprehend her style of teaching easily. Compared to my professor before who belittled my weakness so I just lost interest. I could see the big effect of the student and teacher relationship
f1letters' formula 1 fic recs - pt. 1
✨ SURPRISE! ✨ as an early Christmas gift for all of you, and since I will be continuing the 'midnights' series during the holiday season as well, I decided to make a small list with some of my all-time favourite stories!
I tried to include a variety of different drivers to the best of my ability, which was harder than I thought it would be, since some drivers don't have a lot of stories available (every single person writes for alex, lance or esteban deserves a giant smooch from me, I swear), or I don't read them as much. for other ones, I have like 20+ stories saved so it was really hard to stick to only a few! haha
anyways, I hope you enjoy this little present from me and I encourage you guys to check out all of these amazing and talented writers!
happy holidays to all of you lovely people! 💜 - cat
max verstappen | mv1
'long time lovers' || @libraryofloveletters
'little verstappen' || @lxclerc
'traitor' || @lxclerc
'dog days' || @tierneysodegaard || 13 parts
'our dirty little secret' || @timetorace || 2 parts
daniel ricciardo | dr3
'stargazing' || @art-outlaw || 28 parts
'memories hold me hostage' || @libraryofloveletters || 2 parts
'you abandoned me' || @lovingperfectionsblog || 2 parts
'sweet boy' || @unluckyhoneybee
'twin flame' || @vinvantae || 26 parts
lando norris | ln4
'breaking the rules' || @f1goat || 7 parts
'mini norris' !! @unluckyhoneybee || 2 parts
sebastian vettel | sv5
'after all this time' || @kates-dirty-sister
'chapters from an old book' || @libraryofloveletters
'thin walls' || @tierneysodegaard
pierre gasly | pg10
'pillow' || @illicitlimerence-writes || 4 parts
'one true love' || @mytinycrazymind
'secret' || @mytinycrazymind
'fake it till you make it' || @smoooothoperator || 6 parts
charles leclerc | cl16
'a moment in time' || @hey-kae || 2 parts
'babies and bahrain' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'little enzo' || @mytinycrazymind || 2 parts
'maybe summer doesn't have to end' || @rebelwrites || 11 parts
'the real deal' || @rebelwrites
lance stroll | ls18
'sugar plum' || @libraryofloveletters || 2 parts
'summer lovin' || @libraryofloveletters
'yule shoot your eye out' || @lovelytsunoda
'the second one' || @unluckyhoneybee
alex albon | aa23
'made in the a.m' || @lovelytsunoda
esteban ocon | eo31
'hot n cold' || @lovelytsunoda
'be my date' || @timetorace || 2 parts
lewis hamilton | lh44
'love you from the sidelines' || @libraryofloveletters
'old flame' || @lostinlewis || 5 parts
'what you can't have' || @luvth0t
mick schumacher | ms47
'dress' || @daydreamingleclerc
'lost in japan' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'romeo & juliet' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'see you later' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'sparkling' || @illicitlimerence-writes
carlos sainz | cs55
'in this lifetime or another' || @libraryofloveletters
'cockblock' || @lxclerc
'nothing happened' || @timetorace
george russell | gr63
'never really over' || @charlewiss-writes
'who you belong to' || @russellsppttemplates
multiple drivers
'bad omens' || @lxclerc || cl16 x pg10
'moth to a flame' || @lxclerc || cs55 x cl16 || 2 parts
'all too well' || @targaryenluv || lh44 x pg10
'are you happy now?' || @oyesmendes || pg 10 x gr63 || 3 parts
PS: if you want, feel free to leave your recommendations in the comments and/or message me! i'm always looking for new fics to read and I'd love to know your favourites! 💜
Do you know anyone else who writes for the older drivers? Wanting to find new reading material
i know a few :/ but here’s a list of some works for the older drivers that i’ve been reading by some very talented people! i’ll try to keep this list updated :)
@norrisleclercf1 has some mafia works withh older drivers that are amazing!!
death of a bachelor series by @astonmartingf
the kids are going to be alright by ^
fernando alonso
complicated by @unsolvedjarin
sebastian vettel
about you series by @drvscarlett
history series by @vettelsvee
grid kids series by @pucksandpower
mrsvettelsgarden by @vivwritesfics
padawan learner by ^
the race that mattered by @lorarri
glory days by @uluvjay
a shared history by @lucyrose191
jenson button
do i wanna know? by @formulafics
tis the dilf season by @beiasluv
tell it to my heart by @lovelytsunoda
mile high club by @bellewintersroe
only way by @starlost97
sweet sugar by @natailiatulls07
something devoured by @agendabymooner
you can’t disappoint a picture by @angsthology
i’ll always want you by @vinvantae
promiscuous boy by @libraryofloveletters
corny by @unsolvedjarin
womaniser by @sv5hive
mark webber
early mornings by @loonylupinblack3
light by @maxillness
vacay by @sweeterlovers
a new term by @whorekneecentral
the problem with following orders by @agendabymooner
brand new by @embrosegraves
nico rosberg
lost in the moment by @mynicosensesaretingling
lewis hamilton
do you remember it all too well by @leclercsainzz
bedtime stories by @alwayschoppedtaco
kimi räikkönen
thawed by @pucksandpower
don’t beat yourself up by @faithshouseofchaos
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A 22 year old girl, fan of stackiemight write some fanfictions (marvel, chicago pd, chicago fire, chicago med), short angsty essays about life, update on my journey towards a better mental and physical heatlh. drop questions! fandom related or just you want to talk to somebody.
299 posts