#friends car self drive cars
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i think everybody should think about how much of a privilege driving is before they judge people who don’t drive for being immature or whatever. like do you not realize that not everyone had a high school with driver’s ed or parents/older relatives who could teach them, not everyone had time to learn when they were younger, not everyone can afford a car and car insurance and any repairs that a car might need, not everyone lives in a place that is drivable anyway, and not everyone has good vision or a healthy enough brain and/or body to drive. and nobody needs to explain to you why they don’t drive! all you need to know is that the can’t, don’t want to, or it doesn’t make sense for them at this current time in their lives. fuck off!!!!! the response to inadequate public transportation isn’t that everyone should drive instead!!!!!! also everybody complains about bad drivers but people are incentivized to drive regardless of their actual driving ability because it’s shameful not to drive even if it’s a personal choice. and like maybe some people are just not self aware about their own driving abilities but some people just don’t understand that they are in control of a large machine that is dangerous if they don’t operate it properly and they have to be more responsible for the people they’re putting at risk because they don’t care enough to pay attention or follow the rules of the road or keep their tempers under control while they’re behind the wheel. anyway not everyone can or should drive, that’s all
#apropos of nothing i just was thinking about how judgmental my ex and her friends were in college that i didn’t drive#and i was not as bothered by that as i should’ve been lol#because i was low key deeply embarrassed about it so i thought it was kind of fair that they were being dicks about it#it was mostly this one guy. i tried to explain my reasoning but he just didn’t get it and kept pushing that it was dumb not to drive#and like. yeah sometimes it can be limiting but for most of my day to day life it’s not a problem at all#having a car would be a bigger problem to figure out rn#anyway now i think he should just go to hell#he was kind of judgmental a lot actually and had a pretty big ego imo with no reason to be that self centered#my ex was kind of egotistical too but at least she was an extremely interesting and bright individual#it was grating that she thought she was the most interesting person in the room all the time but she actually was lol#anyway. whatever this isn’t about her it’s about ME and not driving#it’s not gonna happen until i have enough money for a car and time to learn how to drive#and probably not until i actually get assessed (+ treated if diagnosed) for adhd bc my biggest fear is being a distracted driver#if anyone has a problem with that they can suck my dick#anyway. anyway.#that’s all i guess#i fucking hate drivers rn the drivers in my city are nuts
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Got up early (for me), ate a light and healthy breakfast, applied to some jobs, took a long mental health walk with the dogs, gave one of them a bath, and even did some phone calls and messaging regarding my medication and pharmacy problems and managed to sort it out without breaking down!!! And! Showered!! Kicking ASS at mental health today
#im studying myself like a bug. with no judgement or compulsive self hate when i see the results. and then doing something different based on#those results#and its working#ive noticed that im much more productive when i have someone else to help or listen to. its a little uh sad because im not easily able to#to take care of myself and do things for MYSELF. but if its for someone else then its like i gain momentum#going out to clean out MY car? well i dont care how gross it is im not worth the effort.#cleaning out my car for my brother who i drive to therapy every other week? fuck yes its going to be nice and clean because therapy is impo#rtant and i want to help you stick with it and so we make it not a chore but lighthearted sibling time#like do you get it#anyway slow progress is still progress#the number of good days are slowly catching up to the number of bad days#post beginning of the pandemic 2020 was so brutal on me. moving back in with my parents especially#but i have a plan now . a real one. and friends to help me as well !#oops rambling in the tags haha#long tags
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a little collection of cass and audy hanging out, being coworkers,
#cassaudy#counterweight#friends at the table#fatt#my art#old stuff - 2019 2020#fish and robot is the ideal divine universe combination it would seem#cassaudy...balence....#a funny thing is that i designed audy's head based on self-driving cars at the time but i think they might not look that way anymore?#obsolete audy RIP
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got home and immediately scribbled a meme
space friends belong to @8um8le
#2024#idk what made me think to draw this while i was in the car driving home#stellar city#sc space friends#sf hills#sf night#sf spot#sf crown#i also dunno why this would make crown flustered but it felt right#yknow when i said i was going to draw night this is not what i meant- i was going to make an oc to draw kissing him#i need to go draw my self insert with geo and sunny now bc i was at a wedding and miserable so i need some dopamine#anyway have a great night/day/whatever xoxoxo mwah
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anyway. devastating that all these martial arts studios are located in places that are just a littleeeee bit too inconvenient to get to via public transportation
#i wanna do hapkido or wing chun or jeet kune do. I live in the PNW I will literally never get over it if I don't try and take martial#arts classes here but I don't have a car!!!! and public transportation makes what would be an expected amount of time#to do something half of a day and I can't afford to dedicate a WHOLE DAY like that in THIS ECONOMY#like i can give you my after noon or my morning but i cant give you six hours like this#send me back to new jersey. @ my early 20s self: stop spending cash on action figures take martial arts classes#while you have a regular rotation of friends who are willing to drive you all over jersey and new york for dinner and gas money#you absolute dumbass. god i shouldve gotten my license when i lived in MA. not that i can afford car insurance or a car currently#but AUGHHHHH. herhghghrrrhghgh. RHRHGURHGHH
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Trying to not be sad bc it’s unreasonable and unfair
#Aaron’s been so sick. couldn’t bring me into work today.#but now’s he’s up and playing his moba#I feel so fucking alone tbh. it’s my fault bc I’m a bad friend to my non romantic relationships like.#but like. idk though#my other issues with this can’t be solved by friendship#he’s been sick and basically the second he’s healthy he will have to go to Alabama for work#I kinda doubt I’m gonna get any intimacy before then. it’s been a bit#which is another can of worms#but like overall not really his fault or anything so I feel like an evil selfish predator 🤷#and like. I don’t wanna ask him to get off the game bc tbh I value free will and I want him to spend time with me bc he wants too#plus it feels unfair bc he puts up with my weed over use and tbh I’d probably be having#an easier time keeping myself company and staying self entertained if I did currently have weed#but we don’t have a car and since he’s been too sick to drive me most days#I can’t get any
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If you can not forgive you are destined to never heal.
Like, sorry, you can not be mad at someone for making a mistake and then be angry about it for 3 years and be like "why am i not over this".
#friend of a friend died two years ago driving under the influence of some injection. ran a red in the dark and wraped her car around a pole#friend came to me last night while i was mid break down and explained his breakdown.#he apparently introduced her to the drug and she got more on her own#got addicted and was sent to rehab. my friend self admitted to keep her alive.#they worked together on steps to get off hard drugs.#one of the rules is that you can never ever drive if you happen to be on them. not even like one puff of weed or half a Mike's hard.#she got more of the drug when she got home after about a month. some jackass who lived across the street.#needle was dirty and it felt itchy. told my friend about it. he said that she should go to the hospital.#so she got in her car and drove it. without her lights on#friend said she broke a rule and did it on purpose (she didn't. she was just high and panicked.)#said he'd never forgive her for taking his best friend away in such a betrayal. led my friend back to drugs.#said that every year her memory still forces him into agony and he feels he needs something stronger to dull the pain of his heartbreak.#i told him to take double his usual dose of melatonin and a drink of whiskey. came back to me this morning and said that i was right.#he still said he'd never forgive her though. told him about something else I'm going through and asked ''is that what you want?#agony every time someone mentioned her name or at the very least once a year?''#he's saying he's pondering on that.#meanwhile work's going on and I'm under 200 mgs of caffeine already and 3 hours of sleep while having 10 more hours to go.#happy thursday
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#i havent come to terms with the fact that one of the people i held closest to my heart has graduated and i wont see him for a good while#until i can shell out the money to fly to singapore. i get the feeling this is the conductors first shift on the train.#(all the black and breathing rapture) so welcome to charing cross? are you ready? an adminstration error#you are covered in the metallic stench of the rusty chains of command. its time to make four thousand pounds. i thought of you.#here in the garden of england she scrapes the shards of glass from the black sea. first with a spoon and then a knife and the with the#hairdryer that belonged to his mother. in the back of his car i can feel the stutter and jutter of the wheels the same shaky-straight path#of a beginner driver. i love you and the trees. hes finally growing his hair out. here is an enclosed metal room#more man than machine. i wont see you for another year. driving dangerously close to an 8-wheeled tall box i feel safer with you#than i ever will at home. weve already started a campfire in the backseat of your car ive got you didnt i?#we laid in the luxury of a four-person tent next to the mass of campfires and stars and i told her i thought you hated me#I've never hated you. ive never hated anyone except my father. here is how to forgive unspeakable things.#i am really all that ive been looking for. youre not a narcissist baby youve just got a lying problem. take molten gold#and glue the fragments of yourself back together. we cant stop crashing into the sky. drink wine straight from the grapes in the vineyard#and when you give it give it all. studies have shown you view your own future self as a seperate person#and oftentimes you have less empathy for this other person than for a friend. it is time to extend your kindness unequivocally.#the aviation tax attorney on the train floating on water told us a short story of her life. a smile full of charisma and#feeling old retiring at 47. theres a lot about you we shouldn't know. GRAB A GUN AND SHOOT THE IMAGE OF YOURSELF STRAIGHT IN THE MIRROR.
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if i could go back and change one thing about my choices in the past decade I would force myself to be more committed to finishing learning to drive and getting my driver's license. while legitimate things came up every year that made it challenging to find time, when i was a teenager the excuses were flimsy and i could have put much more effort in to making time. Or even when I was in undergrad. because not having a car and not having a license is fucking up my whole adulthood and trying to schedule a driving school on top of grad school is fucking hard and so many jobs require a license i have a hard deadline to get a license by. And i know my reasons for putting off learning to drive years ago and they are not good enough to justify the inconvenience I have wrought upon my life. Plus if i had done it years ago it would have been taking the test in sprawling NV in my parent's car and it would have been much easier than taking it in an urban city in FL and learning from strangers instead of my dad.
#words cannot express how frustrated i am with myself for digging myself into this hole.#listen some of my self hatred is irrational I will admit that but this one is very very rational and tangible. I created this problem#it is not going to cost money and time that i barely have to solve#some of it was me wanting to goof around in summer rather than get in a car to drive when i was like 17 etc#i had little motivation to drive when i was a teenager bc my friends lived further away than i would be allowed to drive
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yall i feel bad. BAD bad. i dont know why
#idk why im telling tumblr this#these people have been setting me off more than usual#everything feels More. too much. everything they say makes me want to scream#ive been thinking about my family. i miss them all so much#i cant get a job and i want my dad#i feel like a failure. i feel like im trapped in a cage.#i get in my car and drive into a town i hate to get a drink and make myself feel better for a moment#then i come back here. to hell#to my own personal purgatory#it feels like ive been living every moment in waking dread#my anxiety hasnt gone away its just shifted. im not scared for myself anymore#my paranoia used to be so self centered#now i check my phone sick to my stomach hoping my friends are okay. hoping theyre safe.#my mind never stops moving and never stops imagining horrific things#im so tired. im so tired.#vent tw
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Me telling my best friend how much better I'm feeling compared to how shit I felt at my worst four years ago
My brain: LAUNCH THE INSECURITIES, IMPOSTER SYNDROME, AND BODY IMAGE ISSUES!
#literally told my friend how much better im feeling#within a week i feel like im bothering them#one comment combined with one long week created suisidal ideation!#didnt realize how long it had been since i had daily suicidal thoughts#hreat trip#spend a practically silent 45 minute car ride wanting to die and drafting notes#also had to reflect on how awful i am as a person#great trip!#glad i drove to see deadpool woth my two best friends that wanted me to save gas by driving 20 miles farther one way than carpool with them#we have spent a lot of time together this week so i guess after today theyll need a break#watch out for more piece of shit depressed self doubt posts!#maybe i should see a therapist?#oh well
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I domt believe in relying on medications but honestly if they medicated me I'd probably just be fine. Like sometimes I think that my problem is that I'm the only sober person in this medicated world. I honestly dont even get high on life anymore. I get high on dragon ball sometimes. I dont want drugs but if they could facilitate a leap of faith into the better unknowns then honestly that's what they're for yknow. Wouldnt be forever. Unfortunately I have no money
#1. buy car 2. stop being aftaid to drive it 3. pick a career path OR drop out of school and do smth else#4. scrounge together smth that resembles financial security 5. have friends 6. love ❤ 7. ??? 8.??? <- The Eightfold Path#Honestly having the self-faith and bravery to experiemtn with legal drugs and/or discuss prescription medications w a doctor is like#well it says smth abt you i think. That youre comfortable in your body enough to try fucking it all up .
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𝐗 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
—jjk men and their favorite x rated videos of you.. nsfw twitter [p⚝rn]
ft. gojo, geto, toji, nanami, sukuna, choso
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
Gojo making you ride him
Gojo’s obsessed with how good you taste
Gojo breeding you
Gojo fucking you from the back
Gojo taking you for a ride in his car
Your step bro Gojo got distracted while teaching you to play the piano
Gojo fucking you in an elevator
The reason Gojo invested in a self driving car
Gojo can’t stop messily breeding you full
Gojo eating you out in a new position
Fucking your son’s best friend Gojo
Gojo overstimulating you with his fingers
Gojo waking you up on the weekend
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
Geto spanking you on camera
Geto loves your ass
Geto giving you backshots
Geto fucking you in his car before he brings you home to your parents
Your fuck buddy Geto is careful to not cum in you
Older bf Geto fingering you
Geto taking his anger out on you
Geto making you suck him off
How older bf Geto eats you out
Geto recording him fingering you in the mirror
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
Dilf! Nanami’s cock is too big to fit, so you improvise
Nanami fucking you
Riding Nanami’s face
Fucking professor Nanami
Nanami eating you out
Nanami playing with his baby girl’s pussy
Nanami breeding your cunny full
Nanami making you squirt through your panties
Taking Nanami’s thick cock
Your boss Nanami filling you, his work slut up
Nanami’s big cock bulging in your belly
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
Toji fingering you in the store
Toji making you get a back tattoo for when he fucks you from behind
Toji’s way of stopping you from squirming
Fucking your best friend’s dad Toji
Dilf! Toji fucking you in the ass so your boyfriend doesn’t notice
Your dad’s best friend touching you
Car sex with older bf Toji
A compilation of all the videos Toji’s recorded fucking you
Toji overstimulating you with a vibrator
Toji fucking you in handcuffs
Bouncing on professor Toji’s cock
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
Sukuna putting a leash round your neck
Sukuna fucking you, his best friend’s sister
A walk with your boyfriend Sukuna turns into him cumming on your face
Sukuna making you watch porn and telling you to recreate it
Sukuna fucking you slow
Riding dad’s best friend Sukuna
Sukuna fucking and breeding you hard
Sukuna cumming from fucking your panties
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
Giving Choso a handjob
Choso licking your clit after cumming in you
Choso eating you out
Choso asking his step sis to pull down her panties for him
Giving Choso a thigh job
Choso cumming from rubbing his clothed dick on your clothed ass
Choso making both you and him cum from just a vibrator
Choso making you squirt whiles he breeds you
Choso sucking on your tits as you ride him
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#geto smut#geto suguru smut#choso smut#choso kamo smut#sukuna#sukuna smut#toji smut#nanami kento smut#nanami smut#toji fushiguro smut#gojo satoru
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shouldn’t have — lumberjack!logan x fem!reader
listen usually i would hate this plotline but like ?? are yall seeing what im seeing ?? feminism exists and is alive and well until we see this man and suddenly we’re all damsels in distress
as always, warnings: reader was in an abusive relationship, logan the savior (i have issues ok), dom logan, bratty reader, choking, slapping, rough p in v sex, swearing, breeding kink tee hee
mdni!!!1!!1!1!1!11!
————
you had been with your boyfriend — well, now ex-boyfriend — for about three months before you had noticed something was wrong. just a few things, you thought. nothing bad. nothing to worry that much about. it felt like he was doing so many things too much; sleeping, drinking, smoking, video games… yelling…
you thought by getting him a job with some men you knew would be fine — that it would solve every problem. why would it not have? he just needs a job, you thought. just something to get him up in the morning… something to give him purpose…
you were wrong — oh, you were so wrong.
at first, everything was fine — up every day, home every night, and only so many hours at the end of the day could be dedicated to all of those bad little habits you hated so, so much. he was drinking, smoking, playing video games so much less — you almost forgot why you were so annoyed and insistent on this new job in the first place.
...until he stopped coming home before midnight.
...until the yelling got worse.
until he got worse.
you almost left him — almost. until, one night — he asked if you could pick him up from the bar after work so he wouldn’t have to wait before he could drive home. you could've squealed you were so relieved, so happy. it seemed like a step in the right direction, and you were hopeful. you thought the kinks were working themselves out, making it so you could finally work out your issues with him. like the good girlfriend you were, you drove to the bar promptly for half past ten and waited in the parking lot for him.
after a few minutes, you sent a text.
a set of ten minutes had passed as you sat there, waiting.
...then another.
...and then another.
you called him, but there was no answer.
no fucking answer.
you ground your teeth when the call was sent to voicemail. voicemail? fucking voicemail? you stared down at the screen like it mocked you — showing you the reflection of your face in the glass like you were some joke, and embarrassment flooded through you.
all you could think about was self-respect — how if you didn't have any respect for yourself, how could your boyfriend respect you? how could anyone respect you?
it brought tears to your eyes, but you blinked them away.
and there went the last straw…
you got out of the car and slammed the door. you were buzzing with anger, shivering like you were cold. anger filled you, but adrenaline was what carried you on its back through the doors of the bar and past its threshold. it was the only friend you had in that moment, and you grasped at its hand — letting it lead you to your doom.
what you didn't expect what form your doom would take.
…your doom came in the form of a hot blonde with legs and cleavage for days.
she laid horizontal across the bar — shot glass in her belly button, line of salt up her abdomen. you watched a man, dirty from the work day, eye the blonde with hunger in his eyes. he wrapped his dry lips around the rim of the shot glass, and threw his head back. almost immediately, he licked the salt trail with a flat, heavy tongue. the blonde above him giggled at the texture of his tongue on her tanned skin — and once he was done, she grasped both sides of his face and pulled him towards her.
that’s when you saw the guy’s face — smiling and drunk — your boyfriend’s face. men around them hollered as he pushed her against the bar top, kissing her hard. all you could do was stare — adrenaline left you high and dry when you needed it most. you were just cold now — cold, lonely, and embarrassed. so embarrassed. so fucking embarrassed.
“you’re his ol’ lady… aren’t you?”
your head cocked to a stool near you, occupied by one of his coworkers. he had a cigar in his mouth as he cocked an eyebrow at you, barely looking at you. his hand was around two fingers of whisky — and it had never looked so tempting.
“was,” you whispered, politely correcting him and locking eyes with him.
“good,” was all he said before he threw back the rest of his whisky and stood from his chair.
you were still in shock, frozen in place. all you could do was watch as the man pushed through the crowd, and stood in front of your boyfriend. you stared at the man's shoulders — covered by thin flannel that would never stand a chance against the muscles underneath. you gulped as he stood toe to toe with your ex-boyfriend, but the man didn't look half as scared as your ex did.
“you’re fired," was all the man said.
everyone around the man, including the blonde and your boyfriend, went silent. jaws were on the floor — no one knew what to do. what could they do? they weren't expecting this — not when the fun had been going on for so long. the man couldn’t have cared less — he waited for a split moment, awaiting any sort of rebuttal from your ex-boyfriend… and that was when your ex noticed you, staring at him. instead of running to you, begging for forgiveness… he started begging the man that had fired him for his job back.
you scoffed and rolled your eyes. of course.
“not happening, bub,” he spat. “now — i’m going to go buy your ex-girlfriend a drink with your last paycheck. ask your buddies for a loan on the tab with the blonde."
and with that, the man turned on his heel back towards you. when he turned, he didn’t bow his head or look at the floor — he looked straight at you. and for the first time that night, you saw what he really looked like — a man. the man radiated masculinity like he was the poster child for the hard working all-american man. worn jeans, work boots, faded flannel… the works. his body was thick with muscle, and impressive sight that was definitely thanks to his job. the years showed on his face — but in a way that was handsome and reliable. life seemed to have chewed him up and spit him out, but he didn’t look the type to go down without a fight.
with a moment or two, he was in front of you. he sat down on the stool, and patted the one next to him — gesturing to you.
“what’re you having, sweetheart?”
you stared up at him with confusion and surprise in your eyes, but a blush across your cheeks. your mouth fell open, stammering — as if you hadn’t been embarrassed enough tonight. your eyes darted to your ex — the intoxication starting to wear away as realization set in. he lost his job, girlfriend, and ego all in a matter of a moment — and you knew how these things ended.
“i think i should —“
“he won’t bother you,” the man responded, gesturing to the bartender for two more drinks.
you took a cautious step back — eyes on your ex who was talking with his work buddies now, eyeing you and the man. the blonde had been discarded, scoffing as she found herself in a similar position as you — chewed up and spit out, but not willing to fight.
you were fumbling for your keys now, anxiety beginning to take over. you were shaking as you took several steps back, not knowing whether to run or start crying was the better answer.
the man who had stood up for you then stood, sighing. he saw your ex walking towards you now, and he rolled his eyes in the way an owner would be annoyed with a dog going back for something they were explicitly told not to. the man drank his whisky, and handed you the other glass.
the man only had a take one step towards your ex before your ex had stopped in his tracks, eyes and mouth wide.
“got all the time in the world, bub,” the man spoke. the man had his fists balled at his sides — and, within an instant, sharp bones almost two feet long had sprung from between his knuckles. the man didn’t wince — but everyone else did. with a cocked head, he then continued, “do you?”
when your ex didn’t move, and the man was satisfied that none of his friends were going to make a move… he turned on his heel and stalked back toward you.
“finish your drink, sweetheart — we’re leaving.”
within five minutes, you had finished your drink before you went outside. there was logan — same bone swords unsheathed, but now stabbing into black tires on a familiar truck. you smiled — now your ex didn’t have a ride home.
“can i give you a lift?” you asked.
few hours later — there you sat with the man, who you now knew as logan. you were on one side of the couch — you curled in the corner on the end, and him in the middle turned towards you. the alcohol was flowing, so you didn’t need a blanket over you to keep warm. now, sat across from logan, both of you appearing to feel the effects of whisky — all you wanted was his warmth.
“good hostess,” he spoke as you refilled his whisky glass.
you blushed. “nothing compared to what you did for me back there — least i can do.”
“i gotta ask —“ he said, taking a sip. “why him?”
you shrugged. “guess i learned the hard way you can’t change someone who doesn’t want to change.”
he looked at you then — almost through you. you wondered if he could see the same ghosts in your eyes that you could see in his.
he shook his head then, chuckling — appearing to want to break the heavy air. “you’re too young for talk like that, doll — won’t allow it.”
you returned his laugh, realizing you were happy for the subject change. “not every man is like you, logan — first one i met that would’ve done what you did.”
he set his glass down then, and you were struck with the realization of how broad his chest and shoulders were. how the fabric of the stretched across his muscles. how heavy the scent of whisky, maple, wood, and cigar smoke hung on his clothes. you stopped staring at him to meet his eyes then, but he was already looking at you.
logan caught you staring. a blush rose to your cheeks.
“there was a time where men i knew would’ve killed to be served whisky by a pretty girl like you,” he spoke, voice gruff. “time where i would’ve.”
you smiled, insecure under his gaze. “you’re easy on the eyes, lo — can’t imagine you had to put much effort into getting with someone you wanted.”
“oh, doll —“ he spoke, leaning in towards you. his face was barely inches from you, and you wanted him to touch you. you wanted those big, calloused hands on your soft skin — wanted it so fucking bad — but he wouldn’t put them on you. not yet. not quite yet. “sweet, pretty things like you? worth all of the effort in the fucking world.”
you felt one of his hands — his large fucking hands — slide down from your knee, to the side of your thigh. he squeezed lightly on the flesh, loving the feeling of your soft skin. you met his eyes then, dark and hungry. he wasn’t hesitating — he was waiting for your approval or disapproval. he wanted you to know he wanted you, but also that you had the final say.
“y’gonna let me show you how a real man’s supposed to treat a woman?” he asked, tucking a hair behind your ear. “hmm, sugar? climb in my lap, and i’ll show you.”
curiosity killed the cat, but not before it found out what the secret was.
logan fell back against the couch — man spreading, hands on the tops of his thighs with his eyes on you. only on you. there was no more of the adrenaline from earlier, no — but there was the confidence from the warm, dark liquid flowing through your veins. it gave you the push you needed, making you throw a leg over his hips, and sit your ass down right over the tent in his jeans.
“that’s a girl, yeah…” he spoke, his hands ran up and down your thighs. his eyes were raking up and down your body in the way that your ex had looked at the blonde, and it only added to your confidence. you wanted to be wanted — and logan made you feel more sexy than your ex ever had. “tell me, sweetheart — when you look at me, what do you see?”
“a man,” you respond, before you can stop yourself.
he raises his brow then — surprised, but not displeased at your answer. “ — yeah? and what makes me a man?”
you thought for a second, as the alcohol clouded your ability to be witty. you couldn’t pinpoint why — you just knew. while you were thinking, almost stammering — you felt his hand snack underneath your skirt and find your lacy panties. you were struck with the sudden realization of how badly you wanted to show him what they looked like, convinced he would like them — but he wouldn’t let you take off your skirt. you eyed him, confused.
“not yet, doll,” he spoke, voice hoarse. his eyes never left yours. “not taking off this skirt — no matter how much i want to — until you know for sure that i deserve to.”
“logan…!” you grumbled, throwing your head back in mock laughter and frustration. “y’gonna make me beg? come on —"
“beg? not tonight, darlin’,” he laughed. you felt one of his fingers prod at your folds through your panties, poking through your lips to find the hidden sensitive parts of you. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling — curious and turned on. “but you are gonna tell me everything you’re going to look for in a man from this point on. when i’m satisfied, then i’ll let you cum.”
“didn’t think you liked games,” you breathed, curiosity, pleasure, and anxiety mixing in your blood.
“i don’t,” he said with finality and sincerity. “i teach lessons, sweetheart — and now i’m gonna teach you how a man should treat you."
“yeah?” you breathed, keeping your lips barely centimeters from his. “and how are you going to accomplish that?”
“rock those pretty hips against my hand, baby —“ he spoke, pressing his fingertips against your clothes core. “and tell me types of guys you're goin' to avoid."
you went to question him, confused — but he pulled you right back in. he pressed two finger tips against your panties, creating the most devious fiction against your sensitive bud. you jumped at the feeling, but he kept your hips steady.
“there’s one —“ he chuckled. “didn’t know how to touch you, yeah? so sensitive — ‘s like he never did.”
“he didn’t know how,” you whined, rolling your hips against his fingers and letting your eyes drift close.
“not surprised,” he grunted. “never a good worker either. so, what’re we avoiding next time, sugar, huh? tell me.”
“i don’t know… i don’t…” your mind was warm and fuzzy now, leaving you unable to answer.
he swatted at the flesh of your ass then, causing your hips to jerk and your eyes to open in shock. he looked up at you, unfazed. “you don’t wanna cum, do you? want me to use you just like him — leave that pussy wet and wanting?”
you giggled. “don’t tempt me.”
his hand reached for your throat, an evil smirk on his lips. “you’re a naughty fucking thing.”
you nodded feverishly, loving the grip on your throat. “for you, lo. i’ll avoid lazy men, i promise —“
“you better,” he warned, his eyes looking up at you with hunger. his wingers were rubbing hard against your clit, and you wanted him oh, so badly to dip into the fabric and roll around your clit or supple hole. “another — tell me. now.”
“careless,” you whined, your hips jerking. “i’ll avoid careless men, logan, i promise —“
“fuck that,” he spat, the grip tightening on your throat. “you’re mine, darlin’.”
he threw you down onto the couch then, landing on your back with a thud. he gave up on his own game, and your confidence bloomed within you. to be so sweet, so pretty — to make a man like logan stumble? forget what he was doing, all because he wanted you so bad? to be in between your plump thighs, round lips, and encircles in those pretty arms? your cheeks were burning pink as your gaze came back into focus above you. there stood logan, on his knees on the couch, as he unbuttoned his flannel with an animalistic chase in his eyes. you couldn’t help but put yourself on your elbows, rubbing your thighs together to keep the friction and heat up. but your eyes? oh, your perfect, big eyes? they were on logan’s. they told you everything you needed to know as he tore off his belt.
“you want me to use you, baby?” he asked as he unzipped his belt. “that’s what my girl wants?”
“by you, lo — a real man,” you breathed, stroking his cock and lining his cock up with the entrance of your pussy.
“good fucking girl,” he growled, plunging his cock into your pussy.
his hips snapped against yours, causing you to jump into the arm rest. you held onto the arm rest, your pillow, to keep you steady. logan liked the sight — pretending that you had your hands tied up above your head as your breasts lifted with your arched back, preening upwards just for him. he watched the shivers run up and down your spine, causing your nipples to peak. he watched them hungrily as they bounced for him and only him, wanting to pull both into his mouth and show you just how greedy real men are.
and when he saw you release the grip held by one hand, and watched it travel down the length of your abdomen, with the end goal of your clit — he swatted your hand away, angry. his gaze — it screamed how fucking dare you?
“fuck off with that shit —“ he spat, pushing your hand back down to hold onto the head rest. “this first time, darlin’? i make you cum — and you lie there, and you take it.”
you whined at his words, your big beautiful eyes on his hungry irises. you folded your lip in between your teeth before you curled your hips up to meet his, wrapped your legs around his hips. never had you been treated with such confidence, such ease — but you wanted him to work for it, see how far he could go to prove to you that he was the best. “you promise, old man? you can keep up?”
the air went still then — but your smirk didn’t falter. it should've, you would realize later. you should've been afraid of the man, knowing what he was capable of when someone tested him. the difference was... logan welcomed the spice in you, as long as it was his to silence. logan’s eyes went wild and dark then, realizing the challenge. he held back so much with you, trying to keep the man awake and the beast dormant — but the greedy girl in you just kept knocking.
he flipped you then — forcing you onto all fours. he bent you over the arm rest, your throat in the crook of his elbow. his free hand groped and pulled at the flesh of your ass, letting go only to smack it. smacksmacksmack. his tough and calloused skin would leave marks, you were sure of it — but it only made your pussy wetter. the sounds were pornographic, filling the room and his nose and ears.
“wasn’t much of a brat tamer, was he?” he spat, fucking into your puffy pussy. his grip on your throat wasn’t tight, but it kept you in control. there was no moving, and there definitely wasn’t enough air to mouth off. “nothing sweet about you — just a greedy fucking girl with the neediest fucking pussy. i'll get'ya there, doll — don't worry now."
you held onto his forearm for dear life, trying to keep your balance as you arched your back up into him. you felt your juices leak around around your sopping wet cunt and down both of your thighs and logan’s. the air was thick with your scent and sounds, pricking at logan’s heightened hearing. your whines — oh, your whines, your fucking whines! — were filling his ribcage and warming every part of him that wasn’t touching you. his lips were sucking at your neck, nipping at the skin . he felt the vibrations of your moans against his lips and he had to fight every instinct to sink his teeth into your shoulder, ruining you for everyone else.
“please — please —“ you choked, smacking against the arm rest. he pulled your free arm back behind your back, forcing you to take everything he gave you.
“not stopping until that pussy creams, baby,” he spat into your ear. his hips were relentless against yours, plunging in and out of your wet folds as he kept them tight and controlled for his use. “when that dumb fuck comes back, to get his stuff? i want him to know who’s pussy this is now. that fucked out look on your face? yeah? that’s all that sack of shit is gonna see before i slam the door in his face.”
“fuck, logan —“ you whimpered. “i’m so close. f-feels so good. please, don’t stop —“
“i know, baby, i know….” he moaned. you reached underneath him, grabbing at his heavy sack and rolling his balls with your finger tips. he jumped at the feeling, curious how a fucked out little thing like you still had so much energy to tease. “never ends with you, huh, does it? always wan’ more?”
“cum with me, lo —“ you choked out. “come on — make me feel it.”
he smacked your ass once more, grasping onto the rippling skin. you could feel your tight muscles, like cement — knowing they would be sore in the morning. you rolled his balls in between your fingers, keeping as controlling of a grip on him as he kept on you. his breaths were ragged against your neck, broken and feverish. your eyes were screwed shut, trying to find his lips in the darkness as you fought with and against logan.
“fill my pussy, baby,” you whined, reaching to any part of him you could grab.
when he saw your eyes, most of the begging in them rather than your tone — he couldn't help it. it took over him before he could even realize it was happening. how could he deny you so,ething you wanted so badly? asked for so sweetly? logan came before you did — much to his dismay, but only for a moment. he felt his skin shiver before his hips snapped forward once to meet yours, trapping you against the arm rest. he rutted into you as the walls of your pussy were coated — dressed in his seed, his spend, his claim. you could hear a growl rumble low in his chest, tearing up at the sound of such a big and strong man at his most vulnerable, his most peaceful state — only for you.
when you reached for your clit again — whining and wanting, ready to take advantage of hearing his satisfied moans in your ear — he smacked your hand away. you scoffed at his movement, but he shut you up quickly. his own fingers found the spot, and his fingers felt better than yours. you should’ve known they would, with the way they attacked you through your panties.
“pussy’s filled to the brim, sugar —“ he grunted. “now i wanna feel it shake while you’re full of me.”
he was so tired, but not his muscles — definitely not his muscles, nor his grip. it held you tight and upright — forcing you to take it in your weak, fucked out state.
“you want me to fuck my cum farther into you, darlin’?” he rasped, fighting his exhaustion through gritted teeth. “i’m too deep, aren’t i? i’ll fuck my cum into your womb if i’m not careful… but you'd like that, wouldn't you? dirty little thing..."
his warning was a threat, but your mind was too soft to realize. too pliant, too ready for him. all you could do was stare off into space as he held you close to him. his fingers spun circles around your puffy clit, his still hard cock piercing into you. “so very deep, lo…”
and when he smacked your clit once before continuing the assault, you came. you came harder than you ever had before — alone, or imagining something in your head as someone else fucked you. it was like your primal nature was being ripped from you, wanting to show and present itself to match logan’s — to show logan you were his match, that you were his equal. you bucked your hips back to meet his, letting the tip of his sensitive cock graze your sensitive walls as you screamed his name. it filled the room more than anything had for him — and it was all he would think about in the days to come. this woman, so worthy and so ready for him — only for him, and all for him.
“that’s it, sweetheart. work for it, that’s right…”
and as his seed slipped into your womb, open and ready for him as you came, you felt his lips press hard, sloppy kisses against your jaw. your own mouth was open, cries falling from it.
“my good girl learned her lesson, didn’t she?” he rasped. “don’t matter now, anyway — no one but me is gonna be in your bed. i'll burn his shit later."
———
i need to touch grass - L xoxo lmk what u think
#wolverine x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#the wolverine#logan wolverine#wolverine#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan x reader#logan howlett
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it’ll pass // mv33
pairing: max verstappen X engineer!reader
word count: 18.5k
warnings: cursing and alcohol use. this is about the 2024 season and while i tried to make things as accurate as possible some things are tweaked for the storyline. so just read for the vibes and not biblically accurate season info :)
includes: right person wrong time, childhood friends, hidden relationship, a little friends to lovers, and ANGST
summary: when you think you've finally gotten everything you want in life... it goes and shows you just how unfair it can be.
playlist for the fic: apple music | spotify
masterlist
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Not many children are certain on what they want to be when they grow up, especially at age nine, but you were an exception. Sure – millions of children say they are going to be a veterinarian or a doctor when they grow up, but how many of them actually end up being that? Life happens, plans change, and reality sets in for the majority of Earth’s population. Although you never planned on any of that happening to you. There was never a doubt in your mind that you were going to be anything other than a race car driver, but even the most determined and strong willed people get dealt a shit hand at some point in their life.
You’d been surrounded by racing your whole life – a perk of your Dad being a successful rally car driver. The sound of the engines and the smell of the exhaust were ingrained into your brain by age five. You were a wild child, a thrill seeker and definitely your Father’s child according to your Mother, but you knew even if your Dad wasn’t a racer that you would have still found yourself drawn to racing one way or another. For a good chunk of your early childhood you claimed to want to be a rally driver like your Dad, much to your Mom’s dismay, but that all changed when you attended your first Formula 1 race.
F1 wasn’t a foreign concept to you, your family watched and attended lots of different kinds of racing, but you’d never been to an actual Formula 1 race before. The atmosphere was completely different to anything you’d ever experienced and watching it on TV was nothing compared to seeing it in real life. You were enthralled by the sounds and hustle and bustle of everything. Not to mention how fast the cars actually were. The little adrenaline junkie in you was on cloud nine and by the time the checkered flag was waved and the car crossed the finish line you knew you wanted to be the one driving it.
Luckily being brought up in a motosports family meant you somewhat had an upper hand. You were blessed to have the finances to start karting and not to mention a very long list of connections. And sure having all these things help you, but you’ve still got to have the talent. Which in your case was never an issue. You were a menace on the track, a force not to be reckoned with, and your Dad taught you not to take any shit from any of the insecure little boys. Trophies and medals lined your walls and there was never a doubt in your mind that you couldn’t make it to the top, that was until you got older.
As your brain developed more so did your understanding that a lot of people and your competitors didn’t think women belonged in racing. Sure when you were younger some of the boys teased you, but it was never anything that bothered you much. It wasn’t until you were around fifteen and looking to move over to single seater racing that you faced your first real case of self doubt. Even with you being one of the best drivers in your division you still had to work ten times harder than the worst male driver to prove to everyone that you were worthy to be there. It was exhausting to constantly be ridiculed, to hear people say you only had gotten this far because of who your Dad was. It amazed you how you had won all these championships and races and people still didn’t think you had the raw talent that you so clearly possessed.
Even with spells of self doubt and days where it felt like the world was against you, you’d somehow made it to Formula 2. That Formula 1 seat that you’d dreamt about since a child was almost in your grasp and you were more determined now than ever to prove that you were one of the 20 best drivers in the world. You knew that this season was your make or break, if you didn’t put in 110% then what were you even doing here? You needed to make a statement, but even the most astronomical statement couldn’t help the fact that your fate was decided when you were born a female.
It didn’t matter that you had won basically every championship in the previous feeder series or that you were clearly on your way to win the F2 championship. It didn’t matter if people claimed that you were the future of Formula 1 or if Susie Wolff was your mentor. It didn’t matter that you had meetings with just about every F1 team about the possibility of a seat next year or that you had a well known last name. None of it mattered because at the end of the day no one was actually ready to sign a woman as a driver. Sure, they’d string you along and give you the false hope of somewhat talking about a contract and then go and sign a driver who you could lap with your eyes closed. Sometimes you just thought they liked the publicity that the team got from the news of you being in talks with them and couldn’t care less about actually giving you the time of day.
Finally accepting that you weren’t going to get a seat in Formula 1 was a devastating out of body experience. You were sat in an uncomfortable chair in between Susie and your Dad as they tried to bargain you a seat at Williams. Although it wasn’t your first choice, you had thought and prayed that with a female CEO and Susie having ties there that Williams would be your saving grace. It was your last option at this point and as you sat there their voices became background noise and the longer you studied Claire’s body language you knew this was the end. You had zoned out, your fingers bloody from subconsciously picking at the skin around your nails as your mind wandered to a place that wasn’t this meeting.
Ever so often you’d hear a statement from one of them and it only made you more catatonic.
“She’s in a league of her own, Claire. I mean she’s a million times better than I ever was as a driver.”
“Her stats alone should tell you everything you need to know. She’s more qualified than the drivers you’ve got right now. I can tell you that.”
It’s what comes out of Claire’s mouth next that brings you back to reality and what also seals your fate. “We could offer you being a development driver like Susie was or possibly a reserve.”
Your eyes focus on her as you sit up in your chair. “I don’t want to be a development driver or a reserve driver. I want to be in the car every race weekend. I want to be an actual driver and I know I’m more than qualified to be one.”
You can feel your Dad and Susie’s eyes on you, surprised at your sudden brashness, yet they didn’t reprimand you. Both of them knew you deserved better than what you were getting dealt. You watch as Claire clasps her hands together and a tight lipped expression forms across her face. “I hate to say this, but we just can’t afford to take the risk.”
“The risk?” You question, fully knowing what that risk is.
She clears her throat, her eyes darting from Susie to your Dad and then finally landing back on you. “Yes you have talent, but we can’t take the risk as a team right now to sign a female driver. We are barely holding on the way it is and signing a female– it just– we can’t be the team to experiment with that right now, no matter how good you are. I’m sorry.”
“So a woman can run a racing team, but just can’t drive for one? Got it.” You’re trying to be professional, but you’d already heard that sorry excuse so many times before and your dreams were literally getting crushed right in front of you, so who can blame you for being a little shitty.
“It’s not just me making this decision Y/N. There’s a million other factors and people that go into this decision. If it could be different I promise it would be.” The strained look on Claire’s face does nothing to ease the ache in your chest, if anything it makes it worse
There’s an awkward silence that fills the room and you want nothing more than to be out of this suffocating room. Your emotions are starting to bubble over and the last thing you want is for someone to spot you looking less than thrilled. In society a man is allowed to react and a woman can only overreact. There’s been countless times where your quote on quote emotions after a difficult race are used against you in an attempt to prove you shouldn’t be racing.
The wooden legs of your chair screech across the floor as you get up and even though you don’t want to, you reach your hand out towards Claire. “Thank you for your time, it was nice talking with you.”
“My offer still stands. I think it would be wise to think it over.” Her grip on your hand is firm as she speaks, but it does nothing to change your mind.
You give her one last thank you before swiftly exiting the room and making your way out of the building. It’s not until you’re in the safety of the blacked out SUV that you finally let yourself fully feel your emotions. And once the first tear falls there’s no stopping the ones that come after. You’re angry that even with the talent you so clearly possess, no one will give you a chance. That you’d worked this hard, gave up your childhood and the possibility of having a normal one to do this. Spent hours, days, months training and being away from home just to get to this spot in your life. Your one dream in life was almost in your grasp, your fingertips could brush against it, that’s how close it was. Yet on a sunny afternoon on a random Monday it was ripped away from you.
Sobs echo through the empty car and you’d never felt more hopeless than you do right now. You spot your Dad talking with Susie outside the building and a short minute later he’s walking towards the car. You try to pull yourself together, you don’t want your Dad to see you like this, but when he gets into the driver's seat you lose it all over again. You somehow feel like you’ve let your Dad down, he’s been your biggest supporter during this whole journey and you not getting a seat felt like the equivalent of you being the worst child ever.
Your Dad couldn’t be more proud of you though, he’d never seen someone work so hard to accomplish their dreams and he was always going to be in your corner no matter what happened. His heart breaks when he gets into the car and sees you so upset and defeated, he’s half tempted to march back in there and demand that they sign you. But right now he knows you need him more than anything. He reaches over the center console and pulls you into him the best he can. His little girl deserved so much better than what you had been dealt and he only wished he could take that hurt you were feeling right now away from you.
“Darling I know this hurts right now. If I could, I’d make a whole racing team from scratch just so you could fulfill your dreams, but this isn’t the end for you. Maybe you could try different kinds of racing? Indycar? Endurance? Maybe follow in your old man's footsteps?” His hand gently rubs against your arm as you sniffle into his chest. “You never know, maybe if you take the reserve spot you could get a seat the following year.”
You lift your head up, your eyes bloodshot as you make eye contact with him. “Dad, we both know that's not true. They’d just string me along.” You lean back into the leather seat as you close your eyes, already feeling a headache coming on. “I know life isn’t fair, but this is some cruel level of unfairness. I wish I had been born a boy because I know I would not be in this situation right now if I was.”
“You’re correct, if you were a boy you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. But that is only because you wouldn’t be half the racer you are as a guy. You’ve gotten this far and you’ve got the talent you do because of who you are and that includes being a woman. I like to take credit for your skills, but honey all your will power and strength and smarts and hell just about everything else you get from your Mother. The guts to be in love with dangerous racing I will take credit for though.“ He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear before resting his hand on the side of your face, gently wiping away your tears. “Listen, people may be blind and ignorant now, but when they finally realize just how good women can be in motorsports and stop being pussies and take that risk, they are going to regret waiting so long.”
His words do nothing to calm the raging storm in your mind. “I know, but I wanted to be that person. I wanted that realization to happen now. I worked so hard and what did I get in return? To be passed over by someone who’s absolute shit? It hurts so bad.”
His hands reach back over to yours, enveloping your much smaller ones in his as he tries to comfort you in any way he can. “That feeling will pass. It hurts now, but it’ll pass. I promise you.”
The feeling never truly passes.
You learn to deal with it, trying to find the positives in life, but the ache is still there. It's like a bad knee that hurts when it’s cold outside. It’s not there all the time, but certain moments take you back to that awful day. It hurts when you win the F2 championship and still don’t have a seat in F1. It hurts when interviewers ask you about what your future holds. It hurts when you see people you raced with as a kid be that one of twenty that you want to be so bad.
Once the F2 season ends you honestly have no idea what you are planning on doing with your life. You really don’t want to dabble in other forms of racing, but you know if you take a year off your chances of getting that golden seat become even more slim.
It’s not until the FIA Gala that you come to the conclusion that maybe you should take up the offer of being a reserve driver. You know you’re going against every word you’ve previously said and every stubborn bone in your body doesn’t want you to do this, but there’s nothing you want more than to be a Formula 1 driver. And if there is even a .1% chance that you could get that seat by doing a year as a reserve first, then you’d be dumb to not try. You know all the odds are against you and maybe you’re betting on a losing dog, but you needed to at least believe in yourself if no one else was. It’s a choice that you’ve mulled over for what seems like an eternity, but it’s a certain Dutch driver that makes you take the final leap off the edge.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You’ve known Max since you were kids in karting. The two of you were pretty close friends as kids, often seen attached at the hip around the track during race weekends. He’d found solace with you and your family, something that looking back now, you were glad to have been able to give him. He was the only other person who you truly considered competition back in those days. It was always a fun time when you raced against Max, mainly because he treated you like an equal, but also never downplayed your talent. He knew you were good and he expressed that many times– something that meant a lot to you back then and still does today.
As you two got older your friendship started to fade for no reason other than taking different paths. When he skipped F2 and went straight into F1 you were pissed, but he had the talent, you couldn’t deny that. You’d sometimes see him on weekends when F1 and F2 raced together, a few short words spoken in passing, but it was never like the old days. Your lives didn’t necessarily coincide anymore, he was making waves as the youngest F1 driver to exist and you were stuck in F2. So when he approached you at the Gala you were surprised.
You’d been playing good racing driver and making small talk all night, talking to sponsors and random rich men who loved to hear themselves talk. You’d finally escaped the tortuous sea of networking and found yourself at a somewhat secluded table with a flute of champagne in front of you. You hadn’t been at the table for very long before you heard a familiar Dutch accent coming from behind you.
“Is this seat taken?”
You turned to see the one and only Max Verstappen standing there with his hand on the back of the seat next to you. Your eyes scanned across the white linen tablecloth to the several empty chairs surrounding the table and then back to Max. “I think they all might be spoken for, but I’m sure they can find another table to sit at.” He lets out a little chuckle as he sits down and you notice him fidgeting with his tie, clearly trying to loosen it. “It’s weird seeing you in anything other than your race suit or team kit.”
His movements halt as his eyes comb over you and it makes you squirm slightly in your seat. “Could say the same about you.”
He’s not wrong though, the dress you’ve picked out for tonight is nothing shy of stunning, but it’s not you. You always felt like these events were a form of torture more than anything and having to get all dressed up was just the cherry on top.
“I saw that you had a good season.” You state before taking a sip of your champagne.
Max’s eyebrows raise in surprise towards you, like you’ve just said the craziest thing. “I don’t think we should be talking about my season when you’ve just won a championship.”
You lean back in your seat, crossing your legs as you adjust your dress. “It’s only an F2 championship Max.” There’s still a part of you that’s slightly bitter about him leaving you behind and you wonder what this night would be like if you were an F1 driver like him.
“It still means something.” His baby blue eyes narrowed at you as he spoke.
The remaining champagne in your glass is gone in seconds, this isn’t where you wanted this conversation to end up, but somehow you knew it was inevitable. “It doesn’t mean much if it can’t even grant me that seat I want. I won that championship basically halfway through the season, but can’t get anyone to offer me anything higher than a reserve driver. How does that mean anything?”
Max shifts in his seat, he knows this is a sensitive subject to you and he knows what he’s about ready to tell you will probably get him slapped, but he has to at least try.
“It could mean something and I came over here to talk to you about it.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words, confused as to what he could possibly mean. “I want you as my teammate.”
You can’t help but laugh slightly at him, the Dutchman had clearly had one too many glasses of champagne tonight. “Did you think to express that to Red Bull before I had that world shortest meeting with them months ago? We all have dreams Max and yours is nice, but it’s a pipe dream.”
He shakes his head and scoots his chair closer to you. “It’s not a dream. It can happen. The team wanted to see how the rest of your season played out, but they for sure want you now.”
“Where is Daniel going then?” A waiter comes past and you snatch another flute of champagne off of their tray. “And why is this not being discussed in a formal meeting setting?”
“The team thought you might be more willing if you heard about this from someone you knew pretty well first. You know I’ve always been in your corner.” Max knows this is where the conversation will either go south or you’ll hear him out and he fears the latter isn’t the most likely scenario. “ And Daniel isn’t going anywhere”
It takes you a moment to understand what Max’s words mean, your glass of champagne hovers near your lips as you slowly realize what he’s insinuating. And this time you actually do laugh at him because how could he think that after your disgruntled conversation just moments ago that you would want the one thing you were dissatisfied with?
“Max, you've got to be kidding me.” You feel like this is one big prank and your tone is more defeated than upset at this point.
Max on the other hand is trying to figure out how to convince you that this is your best option without making you throw that glass of champagne in his face. “Just hear me out ok? I know being a reserve is the last thing you want, but I also know that you’re one of the best drivers out there right now. And yes– you should have that seat already and it sucks that they are making you jump through so many hoops, but I’m trying to help you out in any way I can. So please just take Red Bull’s offer. You’d be a reserve for a year and then when Daniel’s contract is up at the end of the season you’d be the number one contender for his spot.” The only thing you can find yourself to do is blankly stare at him. It’s not a guarantee that you would be getting Daniel’s spot, you’d just be a contender and to you that means you would be just used for headlines and never actually considered.
“You really think this is the best thing for me?”
A sigh escapes past his lips, he should have known this wouldn’t be as easy as he hoped. “What are you really going to do if you don’t take this offer? You can’t do another season in F2. I mean, you’re driving laps around these guys for fun. You’re wasting your talent here and you’re also wasting it by being so determined to not take this opportunity.”
Your arms defensively cross over your chest and you want what he’s saying to not make sense, but it is and it’s making you even more irritated. “I could seek out other forms of racing.”
Max can’t help but roll his eyes at how stubborn you’re being. “You won’t though. You love rallying and yes it’s in your blood, but you lack the experience that you need. Endurance just isn’t you. Indycar is the closest thing to F1, but at the end of the day it’s not Formula 1, so I know you won’t actually seek it out. F1 is what you want Y/N and I’m trying to help you get there.”
You know what he’s saying is true and it’s a tough pill to swallow, but you still can’t bring yourself to actually accept that this is your best and to be frank your only option at this point. Max can see the gears turning in your head, your teeth chewing on your bottom lip. “Y/N.” He’s trying to get you out of your head and bring you back to him. His hand reaches out and gently lands on your knee and that simple action has your eyes focusing back on his blue ones.
“How do you know for sure? How do you know that I’ll actually be considered for Daniel’s seat?”
A heavy sigh comes from Max and you know he’s not going to say what you want to hear. “I don’t. You know the racing world – just because something is said doesn’t mean it’s true, but there’s a high probability. And I think if there’s even a slim chance and you don’t take it then you’d be dumb. You know I’ll always be in your corner and I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted you as my teammate.”
You still don’t know what to say to him, you’re torn between staying true to your values and not taking anything less than what you deserve and realizing that you may have to accept that this is the only way to even get close to your dream. “Stop making the guys in F2 cry and come join Red Bull, please.”
A small smile finds its way onto your face when you realize Max is recalling all the boys you used to make cry when you beat them when you were kids.
“Think you’re the only one I haven’t made cry yet, Verstappen.”
Max mirrors your smile, the memories of old karting days also replaying in his mind. “Don’t see it happening anytime soon either.” A small chuckle escapes past his lips as he speaks.
The atmosphere between you two had lightened and as you stare at the smiling Dutchman in front of you there’s really only one thing you can say to him.
“I’ll think about it.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
After much deliberation, a handful of meetings, and finally accepting that this was unfortunately your best option, you found yourself dressed in a Red Bull team kit three months later in Australia.
Being a reserve driver was not where you expected to be right now, but you were trying to be more positive about the situation. If it wasn’t for Max you’d probably be sitting at home wallowing in self pity. At least with being a reserve you get to still be around the one thing you love. It was tough though, to be a part of the race weekend, but not actually be able to race. You’re in the team meetings, you occasionally do media, you train like a driver– you do everything that a driver would do on a race weekend except actually drive the car. You sometimes feel like you’re just being taunted, like an animal with a treat just out of its reach. It's hard mentally sometimes, but you push through with the help of a therapist and the hope that this suffering now will be worth it in the end.
Being a reserve meant you spent basically all of your time on race weekends in the garage. It wasn’t a foreign place to you by any means, but you’d never really been in the garage while the race was happening. You were more accustomed to being the one out on the track and not in here, but you’d grown to love the behind the scenes work. The one thing in particular was the role of race engineer. You were very familiar with them, your own engineer had been with you all through Formula 3 and 2 and you had fully planned on taking them with you into F1 if it was possible. The bond between racer and engineer is a special one, you’ve got to have the utmost trust with one another, know how eachother thinks and trust that they are doing everything in their power to help you. It sounds a little dramatic, but truly what is a racer without their engineer?
Throughout the season you’d found yourself lingering more and more around the engineers. The occasional times where GP let you sit on the pit wall during practice sessions or qualifying you found yourself glued to the seat next to him. To see how effortlessly Max and him communicate and the level of trust is amazing. It’s a completely different atmosphere and there’s somehow a calm adrenaline that comes over you when you’re on that pitwall. GP makes it look like a piece of cake— looking at data, having multiple people in your ear at once, thinking about strategy. It sounds like a nightmare to some, but you grow to love it. The analytics make the gears in your head turn and the little racing nerd in you can’t seem to get enough.
You seem to be focusing more on the engineering side of things more than racing at a certain point in the season and maybe it’s because subconsciously you know you aren’t going to get Daniel’s seat so you’re trying to distract yourself with something else. There are some moments during the season that give you hope that perhaps you will be considered, like the couple times you get to drive Max’s car in FP1. That hour you get where it’s just you, the car, and the track in front of you makes you realize why you fell in love with this sport to begin with. It’s just that when that hour is up you’re brought back to reality and you don’t want to get out of the car, but the proud look on Max’s face and his insistent rambling about how it was a no brainer that you finished with the fastest time each session made it a little easier.
But even with the slivers of hope, Max constantly advocating for you, and not to mention just your raw talent– the team still decides to go with someone else. They don’t come right out and tell you, but you hear the whispers around the paddock and online that Pierre Gasley is who they want. Your name is barely mentioned in talks and when the announcement finally happens at the end of the season you aren’t even surprised. In all honesty yes it hurts, but you knew when you signed that contract that there was the tiniest chance that you’d get that seat and so throughout the season you built your walls up and prepared yourself for the inevitable.
If it was even possible Max seemed more upset than you about it, but when you tell him over winter break about the other deal you struck he seems to forget all about how you once again had been wronged. Somehow by not getting a racing contract you managed to sign a different one. It was a long depressing month during the end of the season of coming to terms with the fact that your racing career very well may never go any further than F2, but you’d realized that you can still experience your love of racing, just differently, by becoming an engineer. You’d fallen in love with the behind the scenes work during your year as a reserve and GP had somewhat taken you under his wing.
So when the two of you had an actual conversation about you possibly taking the steps to become one it just seemed to click. You’d signed a contract alright, but it wasn’t the one you’d imagined to be signing. The little girl with a dream of being nothing other than a race car driver couldn’t believe that this is where she was headed, but here you were. You were no longer Red Bull Racing reserve driver, you were now a Red Bull Racing apprentice engineer. Even with your knowledge from being a racer for some time, you’d still need to go to school and you somehow managed going to school while working under GP. How you managed that work load you’ll never know.
Max was thrilled that you two still got to work together and was proud that you’d seeked out a new path for yourself. He’d still be holding out hope that one day you’d get to be teammates, but for now he couldn’t be more happy for you. Especially because you seemed happy with how your life was turning out.
As the years pass you only grow closer with Max. It’s like you’re joined at the hip sometimes, but you come to realize there’s no one else you’d want to spend the majority of your year with. It feels like your old karting days, he gets you and you get him and for you two that’s just enough. You’re there for his first WDC and you don’t think you’d cried as much as you did then, seeing the boy you raced with as a kid win such a prestigious title. But you also cried for yourself, because as much as you were so proud of Max, you couldn’t help but still mourn the fact that it could have been and should have eventually been you winning a championship. It stings a little less when he wins his second, but that’s mostly because you got so drunk you couldn’t really remember much of it. When you graduate with your degree in engineering Max is there cheering you on, dressed in something other than his team kit for once. You don’t remember much from that night either, but you can’t seem to forget how genuinely proud he seemed of you and how he couldn’t seem to be anyplace other than right next to you.
The following year with a degree and years of experience now under your belt you get a promotion, mainly because GP got poached by another team for the following season. So for the 2023 season that is truly an iconic one for Max you’re practically his race engineer, but GP is still there right next to you offering his knowledge when needed.
When it’s finally official that you’ll be taking over the role as Max’s race engineer in 2024 the news is mostly positive, but of course there are some people that think you couldn’t possibly be capable of taking on the role. That a three time worlds champion shouldn’t have a woman as an engineer, let alone one that was around the same age as him. It was funny truly, you were more than qualified to be an engineer. You’d done the schooling and had the experience, yet once again because you were a woman people thought you didn’t deserve the job.
Max on the other hand was ecstatic that you’d be filling GP’s shoes. He’d had a good run with him, but he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t sure that you two would make an incredible duo.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“So maybe this wasn’t how I’d imagined us being teammates, but I did tell you I wanted us to be teammates didn’t I? And I think it’s safe to say I always get what I want.” Max stated as the two of you tried to hide in the corner of this end of season/Max's WDC party/your promotion party. Well technically it was Max’s WDC party, but of course he had to bring you into it and show his appreciation to the team as always.
He’s clearly had one too many gin and tonics and the goofy smile on his face only got wider as he spoke.
“Cocky much huh? I think that third championship is getting to you.”
He leaned in closer to you and those pretty baby blues narrowed in on you. “Well when we get my fourth title next year I’ll show you just how cocky I can be.” That was gin and tonic talking and you knew it was time for Max to retire for the night.
“Alright champ. Think it might be time to call it a night.” Your hand wraps around his bicep to try and guide him towards the exit, but he’s a solid man and he doesn’t even budge.
“No, it's still early! We haven’t even begun to celebrate you yet!” He’s being loud and pouty and all up in your personal space, classic signs of drunk Max. And truth be told you don’t want the attention on you whatsoever, hence you hiding in the corner. Which of course Max had invaded as soon as he could. “Come on just one more drink?”
You know one more drink is never just one more, but for whatever reason tonight you can’t tell him no. And so hours later when you’re both making your way down the fancy hotel hallway towards his room you don’t even recall wanting to leave early. Both of you tipsy are always giggling messes and when Max can’t seem to get his key card to work to get into his room it’s apparently the funniest thing on earth to you. Which in turn has Max laughing and you don’t realize how loud you two actually are until the door across from his opens and a disgruntled elderly man is stood there in his robe.
“Sorry!” You barely squeak out to the man as Max finally gets his key card to work and you’re pushing him into his room before the old man can respond. When you hear the door click behind you, the both of you are stood in silence staring at each other for a moment and then laughter erupts out of both of you.
Max plops down on his bed and you take that as a sign that he’s safely made it back to his room and you’ve fulfilled your duty as his friend tonight. “Alright. You’re safe and sound which means I’m gonna head to my room. Goodnight Max.”
He quickly sits up on the edge of his bed at your farewell, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he wonders if he should go through with the idea that’s been consuming his brain for some time now. He had enough liquor in him now to justify even considering it. It’s not until your hand touches the door knob that he finally speaks up. “Y/N. Wait.”
Your head whips around at the sound of his voice and by the time you’re fully turned around he’s inches away from you. “If this is you trying to convince me to rally and head back out I’m convinced you want me dead, Verstappen.”
“No no, it’s nothing like that.” His voice is soft and you can almost feel the energy in the room change.
“What is it then?” You throw him a questioning look.
He’d cracked the can of worms and if he didn’t fully open them soon he doesn’t think he’ll ever get the chance again. “Um- there’s something I-” How was he supposed to tell the girl who in less than a month is going to be his official race engineer that he has feelings for her? He’d been somewhat harboring them since they were kids and as he got older and the feelings seemed to lessen he figured it was just a silly little childhood crush. He’d only then realized since becoming as close as the two of you have ever been these past couple years that those feelings were not just ones of a silly little childhood crush.
Sure it started out as that and yeah his feelings may have just gotten pushed down when your lives started to go in different directions, but now that he had you with him all the time and your relationship had blossomed into something more than just two kids on the kart track. He’d come to the conclusion that those feelings never actually went away. And he knows he should have said something sooner because this new phase in your relationship and your work relationship takes priority over his romantic feelings, but Max can’t help but be greedy. The three time world drivers champion surprisingly wants to have his cake and to eat it too.
The alcohol coursing through his veins isn’t really helping him in thinking that clearly, he can’t seem to muster up the words in the order he wants, it’s all jumbled up and he starts speaking in Dutch without realizing it.
“Max, you're making no sense. You’re drunk, just talk to me in the morning or guess I should say afternoon by the way you seem to be sounding.” He’s tipsy, not drunk. He could hold a conversation, but apparently not when it came to confessing his feelings. The liquid courage he thought he had possessed was clearly no longer working in his favor. It’s only when he feels your hand touch his forearm that he pulls himself together. “When I signed that contract to be your race engineer I didn’t think it would include babysitting.” You slightly teased him as you tried to guide him back to his bed, but like back at the party his feet stayed planted to the plush carpet.
You knew drivers and their engineers were close, you had to be, but there was something definitely different about Max and yours relationship. Maybe it was because you had known each other since you were children, but you two were for sure closer than the average duo. Case and point– the situation you two had currently found yourselves in. You didn’t know of any engineers and drivers who went out and hung out outside of work like you guys do or even party like you two do, but for you guys it was normal. So perhaps things would have to change when the season officially started.
“If you’re going to be so stubborn then you can put yourself back to bed.” Your hand drops from his arm as you turn towards the door to leave when you feel his much larger hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. “Max-”
Your faces are inches apart and his pupils are so dilated that those pretty blue eyes that always stare back at you resemble something more of a black hole than a spring sky. “I may regret doing this, but I think if I don’t I’ll regret it even more.”
And it’s in this moment that everything between the two of you changes and your lives are forever altered.
You don’t even get to question what Max is talking about before you feel his plump pink lips against yours. Your brain short circuits and it takes you a second to realize what is actually happening, but by the time your brain catches up with your lips he’s already pulled away and cursing.
“Fuck I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Clearly you don’t feel the same-”
Max doesn’t even get to finish his rambling before your grabbing at the material of his shirt and pulling him back towards you. Your lips crashing into each others and this time he’s the one surprised. His hands reach up to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, your lips moving in perfect synchronization. The night's drinks linger heavy on your tongues and they begin to mix as his tongue slips its way into your mouth. He’s dominant yet soft with his actions and you find yourself becoming enthralled with them.
When you two finally pull away you’re both breathless with rosy cheeks and giddy smiles on your face. There’s a silence between you, no one wants to be the first one to say anything. To bring you back to reality and ruin this moment, but Max is the first one to burst the bubble. “I hadn’t really planned on kissing you. I actually had a whole speech planned out, but guess this did the trick just as well.”
“A speech?” You question.
“Was gonna tell you that I may have had a crush on you since we were kids in karting and how I thought it was just a childhood crush for the longest time, but then we became so close ever since you joined Red Bull and I realized that I’ve always been enamored by you. We just get each other and being around you is so easy. You’re my person Y/N.”
You weren’t going to lie to yourself and say you didn’t have a crush on Max when you were kids too or that you’d perhaps sometimes in the middle of the night when your mind wandered thought that there may be something a little more between Max and you than what you let on. But you’d always pushed those thoughts aside as quickly as they arrived. You didn’t allow yourself to be distracted with silly crushes when you were racing let alone now when this new dream was at your fingertips. But the fact was that it wasn’t just a silly little crush. Max is just as much your person as you are his. He’s your biggest supporter and embarrassingly the person you think about the most. And perhaps you do find yourself staring at his pretty blue eyes or the way his eyes scrunch up when he’s really happy or laughing hard. The way his lisp becomes more prominent when he gets excited or how you love to hear him “maxplain”.
So perhaps you were more down bad than you had let yourself believe, but it was no use dwelling on it. You were colleagues and soon you would be his race engineer. This was just a drunk mistake and Max was only caught up in the moment– at least that’s what you kept telling yourself. This couldn’t happen right now and you know you know you shouldn’t have kissed him back, but god kissing resembled the same feeling of when you overtake on the track. That adrenaline rush that starts in your stomach and travels up to your chest. It’s addicting and as he stands there in front of you, those swollen pink lips of his keep shutting down everything in you that tells you to not let this go any further.
Max gently reaches up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering as he tries to figure out how you feel. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same, but I mean after that kiss… there’s got to be something.” The sly smirk on his face only has you rolling your eyes at him, but he knows from the small smile your donning that the eye roll was nothing of significance. “I just had to tell you. It’d been eating at me.”
His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across the top. You practically melt into his touch and as your eyes flutter shut a deep sigh escapes past your lips. You know this can’t continue, you know you’ve got to be the one to set the boundaries, but god damn if this wasn’t something like a dream.
“I’m not going to lie and say I don’t feel the same because I do. Perhaps even more than you at times, but this was absolutely the worst time for you to do this. Before you know it the season is going to start and I’m going to officially be your race engineer. We can’t mix pleasure with business.”
He knows what you’re saying is true, but to hear you say you feel the same as him has him willing to risk it all. “I know I should have told you sooner, but I think we could make it work.”
“Max.” You’re trying to get him to think rationally for just a second.
“We don’t have to put a label on anything and no one will know until we are ready. We will just take it slow. Nothing would have to change between us or the people around us. Work will always come first.”
His hands move down towards yours and your fingers intertwine as you try to make sense of all the things flying around in your brain. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before like you do Max. You’d been burying it, trying not to let it get in the way of your job, but it had been there subconsciously the whole time. Now that you’ve come to terms with it and found out he feels the same, how the hell were you two going to move forward with this?
“Things will change Max, even if you say they won’t we both know they will. We’ll have to be careful about how we interact and sneak around. This isn’t some little make believe play time kind of thing. This is real life Max.” You squeeze his hand as you speak, trying to convey just how serious you’re taking this and how he should be too. “I also have a lot more at stake than you do Max. I’ve gone through hell and back to get where I am today, I don’t want it all ruined in the blink of an eye.”
Max so badly wants to make this work. He understands your apprehension regardless of how strong your feelings are for him, but he thinks you guys should at least give it a try.
“I understand what you’re saying. I also think what we’ve got here is pretty special. It would be a shame to not pursue it.”
Your brain is telling you to choose your career and your heart is telling you to choose both your career and Max. Everything could work out fine and he could be the guy you end up marrying and living happily ever after with or it could all blow up in your face and you could lose your career and your man. But if you would have never taken the risk of becoming a reserve for Red Bull then you wouldn’t be here in this position. So you take the risk and decide to go with your heart.
“Alright let’s see how this plays out Verstappen.”
His eyes light up at your words. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And for the third time that night you feel his soft lips pressed against yours.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The 2024 season starts out with a bang. Max puts it on pole in quali and wins in Bahrain and the same thing happens in Saudi Arabia. You’d been practically shitting yourself in the weeks leading up to the start of the season. There was an insane amount of pressure from the public and media for you to do well, but also an insane amount that you had put on yourself. You wanted to prove to people that you were good at your job, that you deserved to be there. So when the first two weekends went smoothly and your communication went well with Max you couldn’t have been happier.
Not to mention how well it was going with Max. You two had been nothing but careful when it came to your radio messages, but also your behavior in the garage. The fleeting glances or smiles thrown your way only mean that much more considering you two are the only ones who know their true intent. And the evenings spent in each other's hotel rooms are like your own personal getaway. It’s just you two once that door is closed behind you and it makes the kisses even sweeter.
Although the following week in Australia you weren’t expecting to be dealing with a hiccup so soon, but that’s the world of Formula 1 for you. It started off normal, Max took pole in qualifying and the race started great. Everything is normal on the pitwall and then you see Carlos overtake Max on lap two. It of course is not what you want to see, but it was only the second lap and you weren’t that stressed at the moment, but then you hear the dial of Max’s radio.
“I just lost the car. Really weird.” Max’s voice fills your ears through your headset.
“Yeah no problem Max. Still early.”
You watch the data closely as the race continues and you can see his time dropping ever so slowly.
“Fuck. The car is loose.”
“I know. Try and hold on, we are working on it.”
His time keeps dropping and you're combing through everything trying to figure out what could be going on. As you glance at the monitor with the race coverage you notice smoke coming from the back of the car and not a second later his voice comes through your headset once more.
“I have smoke. Fire fire. Brake my brake.”
“Copy. Try and make it back to the pits.”
Fuck. This could not be good. You’re first real issue as an official engineer and it’s only the third race of the season. You turn in your chair as you see him rolling down the pit lane, his rear brake on fire. Your stomach drops and you know it's a DNF for him. Thankfully it wasn’t a crash, you think you would have been going to the medics with him if that was the case.
Your headset is off and you’re making your way across the pit lane as soon as you see him get out of the car. You’re nervous considering this is the first race issue you’ve dealt with while being “together” or whatever you two are calling it and you aren’t sure how Max is going to handle it.
He’s in the garage taking off his balaclava as you walk up to him and you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, but you know you can’t do that. There’s clearly signs of disappointment on his face, but he’s trying to keep a poker face when he spots you. “You alright?” You question as you lean against the counter.
“I’m fine. Car isn’t though.” He’s short with you and you probably should have let him decompress on his own before coming over here, but you couldn’t help yourself. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve seen him in a less than cheerful mood, but it’s the first time since coming to terms with how you felt about each other and you being his engineer.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
He shrugs his shoulders at you, his hand running through his dirty blonde hair. “Wasn’t your fault.”
You feel like it is though. “Are we good?” You ask with a low voice.
Max could barely hear you with the sound of the mechanics and when he sees them moving the car into the garage he grabs you by the elbow and leads you towards the back of the garage towards the paddock entrance hallway. It luckily was empty for the moment, the garage too busy dealing with the car.
“Why would we not be good?” He lowers his voice too.
It’s your turn to shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just that it was the first issue of the season and I wanted to make sure you weren’t upset with me or something.”
“Schatje.” The term of endearment always has butterflies fluttering about in your stomach, no matter how many times you hear it. “It was not your fault. It was a mechanical issue.”
He can see the worry across your face and he knows the amount of stress you’ve been feeling about everything. The last thing you need is to be worried about how your relationship is going. He quickly checks both directions and when he sees the coast is clear he pulls you into his arms. It’s what you both needed after the shit show that was this race and even if it was brief his actions told you everything you needed to know. “We’ll talk more tonight, yeah?”
You simply nod at him, both of you knowing you have to go back to your respective roles in the team before someone comes around the corner. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before disappearing behind the corner and back into the garage. You lean your head against the wall as you let out a deep sigh. There was something in you that had a feeling that this season wasn’t going to be an easy one.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Japan and China have you guys back to regularly scheduled programming and then Miami comes and turns everything upside down. When Max wins by the skin of his teeth in Imola the following race week you know something is not right with the car, but you can’t seem to pinpoint it. You know Max and you know he’s driving the car to its full ability and he somehow manages to secure the win in Canada and Spain, but not without being vocal about how shit the car is over the radio, to which you can only reply copy that Max.
It’s clear to you and probably everyone else that this season is not looking to be a dominant Red Bull season and it makes your stomach churn to think about the headlines about you. There’s not a doubt in your mind that everything will be blamed on you, especially after the horrible weekend that is the Austrian Grand Prix.
It doesn’t start out bad, Max puts it on pole in qualifying and he holds the lead throughout the majority of the race. It’s not until lap 48 that things start to fall apart.
“I can’t hold this much longer.” Max’s voice sounds through your headphones.
“A couple more laps Max.”
“The tires are fucked.”
You don’t want Lando to undercut Max and you know if you don’t time this pitstop right that it may very well cost Max the race. On lap 52 you call Max into the pits and McLaren pits Lando also. You need this pitstop to go well and of course — it doesn’t. A stubborn left rear wheel nut is what brings the gap between Max and Lando down to two seconds.
There’s not a bone in your body that wants to relay that information to Max, but you’ve got to, it’s your job.
“Gap to Lando is now two seconds Max.”
“Fuck.”
“I know, but you can hold him off.”
As the time began to shrink between Max and Lando your confidence in Max holding him off was dwindling and you knew he wasn’t going to just let Lando pass him. He was going to hold Lando off for as long as he could and when the racing started to get sketchy you were sure you wouldn’t have any fingernails left by the time this race was over.
“Keep it clean Max.” You tell him after a particularly close call.
“Something is wrong with the car.” He replies. You can tell he’s got no grip, but he’s also trying to defend like his life depended on it.
As the laps go by the two drivers seem to be getting more desperate as both of them are pushing track limits and each other. You know it’s not gonna end well and you can only do so much from the pitwall. It’s Max who makes the final decision out there regardless of what you say.
It’s been a tiring back and forth game with them and when they finally make contact on lap 64 your stomach drops for the man you care for, but you shake your head as his engineer. Both of them have punctures and somehow Max is able to make it back to the pits and still finish fifth. It’s quiet on the pitwall and the cheers from the Mercedes team drown out anything that might have been said. You don’t know what to say to Max when you see him. As his engineer you know he was defending (rather recklessly in your opinion) but as his ‘girlfriend’ you want to slap him for being so reckless.
You know it’s better to just let Max decompress on his own and at this point you somewhat need to also. He’s got media duties to deal with and you’ve got your own responsibilities. You don’t even bother in waiting around for him like you usually do after a race. Once your tasks are done you’re making your way back to the hotel and for the first time that weekend you actually go to your room. Nothing sounds better at the moment than a nice long hot shower and so you let the water help wash away the stress from this weekend. That is until you hear a rapid knock on the door as you’re wrapping yourself in the hotel branded fluffy white robe. You know exactly who it is, but considering you’re dressed in nothing but a robe– you check the peephole. To no surprise there on the other side stands a disheveled Max Verstappen. His hand runs through his hair obsessively and you can tell he’s not in the cheeriest of moods. You open the door and he wastes no time in coming in.
“Why aren’t you in my room?” He immediately asks, his tone almost reads as offended that you were here instead of three rooms down.
“A girl can’t use her hotel room?”
“You know what I mean.”
You sit down on the edge of the plush bed as Max remains standing.
“I just wanted some alone time. To decompress after this weekend, specifically today. Figured you could use some too.”
He’s standing in front of you now, his fingers lightly toying at the collar of your robe. “All I wanted to see when I came back to my room was my girl waiting for me.” His voice is soft and you can tell this weekend has taken a toll on him. He plays the tough guy act during racing, but at the end of the day he’s just a man who wants and needs love and comfort. And so without a second thought you're sneaking off to Max’s hotel room like a couple of teenagers trying to not get caught.
The warm embrace of Max’s arms is one of the places you feel the most safe and tonight is no exception. Austria is clearly a weekend to forget, but you know the media will be dragging it out for weeks to come. “The only thing I’m gonna say about today is that you’re lucky all that happened was a puncture. As your engineer and girlfriend you put me through the fucking ringer today Verstappen.”
He doesn’t even register you somewhat scolding him for his driving today, all he can seem to focus on his you referring to yourself as his girlfriend. Of course you’ve been nothing less to him in his mind, you were exclusively his and no other woman would compare. But with the somewhat tricky situation you’d found yourselves in you’d never really put a label on it and that was fine to him. In fact he’d been the one to suggest it in the beginning, mainly because he knew how nervous you were about exploring the relationship between you two. But to hear it nonchentaly come out of your mouth that you’re his girlfriend is perhaps the best thing he’s heard in a good while.
“Girlfriend?” He questions, his tone somewhat teasing you.
Your head leaves its home on his solid chest and moves to look up at him. You hadn’t even realized you’d referred to yourself as his girlfriend, but after six months of you two just going with the flow or whatever you wanted to call it. There was no doubt that you two were exclusively one anothers.
“I mean– that’s what I am right?” You pray you haven’t just made a fool of yourself, but you know he feels the same.
His hand cups your cheek and he looks at you like you’re the most breathtaking thing on the planet. You can feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach and just by the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, there’s no way he doesn’t feel the same.
“Yes, but only if I’m your boyfriend.” His voice is sweet like honey and the butterflies are about ready to escape your stomach at this point.
“We sound like two 13 year olds right now.”
Your laughter is like music to Max’s ears and he can’t ignore the swelling feeling in his chest. It’s terrifying, but thrilling at the same time and it’s a feeling that he’s sure he never wants to be without.
“Well ok then I need to know if we are actually boyfriend and girlfriend.” Giggles fill the hotel room and you would have thought you two had been drinking with how ridiculous you two were acting, but you were really just lovesick fools.
As the laughter dies down you can sense a shift in the atmosphere as you two lay there and stare at each other for a moment. In what seems like no time at all your leg swings over his waist and a second later you’re straddling him. His hands instinctively move to your hips and your hands lay flat on his chest as you lean forward. “I think it’s safe to say that you’re mine huh? My boyfriend?”
Your lips hover just above his as you whisper to him and you can see his pupils dilating and feel the grip on your hips getting tighter.
“I like hearing that.” He whispers back, his lips jutting out to connect with yours, but the tease in you has you pulling back ever so slightly.
“Hearing what?” A playful smirk adorns your face as you sit up with your hands still splayed across his chest.
He sits up too, but it’s clear you’ve ignited a fire in him. His hands snake around your waist as he holds you close to his chest. Your hands now resting on his shoulders. “That I’m yours.”
And in one swift motion he’s flipped you onto your back as his large biceps bulge while he hovers over you. His head leans down towards your ear and his breath tickles your neck. It’s like every nerve in your body is heightened and you’re aware of every single thing he does to you and himself. “And that you’re mine.”
A shiver runs up your spine as he whispers into your ear and by the look in his eyes you know it’s going to be a long night.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
To say you were looking forward to summer break was an understatement. The mere idea of having a month off was the only thing that got you through those last three races. Silverstone wasn’t horrible, but Hungary and Belgium were nothing to write home about. The team had figured out that the upgrades that were brought to the car weren’t working correctly, but now it was trying to figure out why they aren’t working and how to correct them. But even with potentially corrected upgrades it still seemed like the car would be a pace behind McLaren or Ferrari. You’d been stressing trying to work on a new strategy with Max and trying to figure out how to make the car faster with basically nothing to work with. Not to mention the headlines that had your head on a spike claiming “Red Bull’s downfall” was because of you. It was truly tiring and so when the checkered flag waved in Belgium you were one happy girl.
It’s not everyday that you get to send a week on a private island with your boyfriend, yet here you were. When Max had mentioned something about getting away during summer break you had figured Saint Tropez or Bali or really any typical F1 driver vacation spot. You had also figured you’d be spending some time apart considering it would be a little weird to be spotted on vacation together. The last thing you wanted was for rumors to start flying around, but Max surprised you with the unexpected.
When Max told you this was a private island you figured there’d be maybe a handful of other people, but it was literally just you two and the staff for the villa. It’s truly paradise on Earth and you have to pinch yourself sometimes to see if you’re dreaming. Days spent on the beach and in the ocean. Nights spent tangled inbetween the sheets and mornings spent waking up to the gentle lull of waves crashing onto the sand and alright sometimes it is spent tangled in the sheets. Decadent food at the snap of a finger and the feeling of the sun on your skin everyday. It’s just what you needed, what you both needed to help you recharge for the second half of the season.
On one of your last nights on the island Max and you find yourselves cuddled up on one of the giant loungers outside. The ocean had calmed for the night and the moon’s light cascaded over the water and onto you two. For once Max had sought out comfort in your arms and you thought you had put him to sleep from running your fingers through his hair until he spoke up.
“I’m glad we found our way back to each other.”
Your movements stilled, you weren’t expecting him to say that. Sure Max is a lot more loving than people would expect, but he isn’t one to be overly sappy. “Me too.” There’s a beat in the conversation and your hand finds its way back to his hair. “I don’t think as kids we saw our lives ending up like this though did we?”
“Career wise or us being together?” Max questions.
“Both I guess or at least it was that way for me.” You can feel Max slip his hand under your shirt and his finger start to mindlessly trace patterns on your abdomen. “If you would have told the girl who hated your guts for a while after you left me behind in F2 that I would be on a romantic getaway with you years later, I would have laughed in your face.” You can sense the shit eating grin on Max’s face. “I also fully believed that I was going to be a Formula 1 driver. There was nothing that you could have told me back then that would have changed my mind. Hell even five years ago I was still holding out hope. Guess I should have known better.” You’d turned the conversation in a different direction, but it was Max and he was the one person who you could have these kinds of talks with in confidence.
Max knows this is still a very sore subject for you and how could it not be? He couldn’t imagine having gone through all the shit you have just to be denied over who you were. He may have had his fair share of shit to go through as a child and some other things, but in the end he got to achieve his dream and no one denied him of it because of who he was. He knew you had to look at him with envy more times than not and he wished he could only go back in time and somehow by the grace of the racing gods get you a seat. “There’s no such thing as “knowing better” you had a dream and the talent to back it up. There was no reason you shouldn’t have been able to achieve it schatje. Life is just one cruel fucker sometimes.”
“But I guess without that happening we probably wouldn’t have ended up together then?” You try to change the subject to something less depressing than your failed racing career.
“Everything happens for a reason.” Max states.
You nod in agreement, it’s something you’d told yourself quite often to try and cope with your dreams getting crushed.
“I do love my job now and however shit my luck may be it can’t be that bad. I still get to enjoy racing and I’ve managed to acquire you in the process.”
Max lets out a small laugh at your statement. “Didn’t know I was some prize to be sought after.”
“You were like an added bonus that came with the job.”
Max playfully scoffs and after a few moments of silence he changes the subject.
“Maybe we should just stay here for the rest of the season.” He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s been dreading for summer break to end and to go back to driving a car that wants to disagree with everything he does.
“It would be nice, but we have a championship to win.”
Max looks up at you and even with the moon as your only light source those baby blues of his still sparkled. “You really think we still have a shot at it?”
You know this season has been weighing him and the whole team down and as much as you’ve been stressed you still have faith that you guys can pull off the WDC. ‘I’m gonna tell you something my Dad used to tell me. Whenever I had a difficult race or was upset or even when I was getting rejected for an F1 seat he’d always tell me ‘it’ll pass’. You may be feeling like shit right now or hopeless, but after some time things get better and eventually that feeling of despair will pass. This rough patch we are in right now– it’ll pass Max. You’re gonna win again, especially if I have anything to do with it.”
The overwhelming desire he has to tell you he loves you right now is something he can’t ignore. He’s never had someone in his corner like this before. Had someone that he cared about so deeply and loved be so involved in securing his success, but also reassuring him and instilling confidence back in him. It’s something you were good at as kids too, he couldn’t recall how many times he’d snuck off and hung out with you and your family during your karting years. If he hadn’t had a particularly good race he always knew you’d be there for him no matter what others in his life said or did.
But as much as he’s confident in his true feelings about you and the fact that he really hadn’t felt this way about anyone before, he decides to keep it to himself for the time being. If you by some chance don’t feel the same he doesn’t want to ruin this nice moment or vacation by blabbing his mouth about how he feels. So for now him pressing his lips against yours and the feeling of your hands on him will have to suffice instead of ‘i love you’.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The first race back after summer break is Max’s home race and you both want nothing more than for him to win this one. The usual cool and collected Max has some nerves to him this weekend. You’d been nothing but reassuring and supportive this weekend because you truly think with the little tweaks the team had made to the car and some new strategy techniques that you may have this weekend in the bag, but Max can’t seem to shake the doubt in his mind. He’s of course thrilled to be racing at his home race, but the fact that he hasn’t been winning and that his family is going to be here has his mind working on overdrive. The little boy who hated to be a disappointment is still inside of him no matter the size of the nonchalant facade he tries to put on.
When Max qualifies P2 you know he’s going to be upset, but you know you guys can work with P2. You two go over the best possible strategy techniques Saturday night and come Sunday morning you’re both feeling good about the race.
“Alright Max twenty seconds until the formation lap. Be smart and safe.”
Your voice travels through the headset and Max smiles at the last part. It had become a habit of yours to always tell him to be smart and safe over the radio. It’s your way of telling him you care and perhaps subconsciously that you love him and he wants to tell you he loves you back every time, but he knows everyone can hear what is being said, so he settles for the old stand by.
“Copy.”
When the lights go out you don’t realize you haven’t taken a breath until Max overtakes Lando on the first turn and you’re breathing out a giant sigh of relief. This is what you guys needed and now all Max needed to do was get some distance between him and Lando and pray for it to be a boring race and he’d be taking that top step.
“Beautiful Max.”
You know the reassurance over the radio will have him smiling like a fool under his helmet.
It doesn’t take long though for your confidence about the race to start to diminish. Lando wastes no time in trying to gain his position back and you can tell Max can’t hold him off much longer. He eventually overtakes him and the gap that Lando starts to create is making your stomach turn. You knew if Lando got out in front and into the clean air it would be game over and that’s exactly what happens. With only ten laps left you don’t even want to tell Max how big the gap has gotten, but from his radio silence and him not outright asking, you figure he already knows.
22 seconds.
That’s the gap between Lando and Max when the checkered flag waves. Your stomach is in knots as you take off your headset and make your way towards the crowd already forming for the podium celebration. Max still ended up with P2, but to be beaten with a 22 second gap at your home race has got to be killing him. You watch him from below and you can tell his mind is going a mile a minute, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins and the disappointment from losing the race is written all over him.
After the podium celebration and the team debrief and every other responsibility that you have on a race weekend, you finally find yourself back at the hotel. Usually you’d be flying back home on his private jet, especially on a weekend like this, but Max opted to fly out first thing in the morning. So while Max finished up the last of his responsibilities you opted to torture yourself some more and go over countless amounts of data from this weekend.
Technically this isn’t even your main job, but if you can somehow figure out what the hell is wrong with this car then you’ll take on whatever job you have to. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been sat at this small hotel room desk, papers scattered everywhere as you hunch over your laptop. The sound of the door opening and closing doesn’t register in your mind and it’s not until you feel two strong hands on your shoulders that you are brought back from the world of tire degradation and sector times.
“Baby, come on, let's go to bed. We can’t solve this in one night.” His fingers work slowly into your tense muscles and a sigh of relief comes from you as you lean back in the chair, eyes fluttering closed as he continues to work his magic.
And as good as this feels, your brain wants to talk about the elephant in the room. “So we are gonna pretend like you didn’t get beat with a 22 second gap at your home race?“ His movements halt and you realize you probably could have worded that better.
“Well I’d actually like to forget about it if that’s alright.” He moves away from you and chooses to sit down on the edge of the bed. His body language is nothing shy of defeated and you could kick yourself for how you spoke.
“That’s not what I meant to say. It came out wrong. I was just trying to say that I’m trying to figure this out so it doesn’t happen again. We can act like it didn’t happen but it did and there’s clearly a reason here in this data.”
He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you blankly.
“I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want to be hearing, but I’m trying to get you a winning car again Max. I mean this is my first year as your actual engineer and I feel like I’m gonna lose my job if you aren’t winning races. The car is shit and we can’t seem to figure out a good strategy to work with the shit car. I don’t know what the fuck happened from last year to this year but I’m losing my fucking mind. People already think I shouldn’t be here and by not cranking out wins I’m just giving them more ammunition to use against me.”
You hadn’t realized you’d started crying until you feel Max’s thumb wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Fuck I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on some rant and have a breakdown.”
You bury your head into his chest as his arms wrap around you, enveloping you in his strong warm embrace. “It’s fine. It’s good to let it out.” One of his hands moves to gently stroke your hair and when you finally pull your head back to look at him, he’s pressing a kiss to your forehead and it tells you everything you need to know.
“I know we’ve both been under stress, but I didn’t know it was this bad baby. I wish you would have talked to me sooner before it resulted in this.”
You shrug your shoulders at him. “Didn’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re never a burden to me. We are a team, remember? Regardless of actually working for the same team, at the end of the day it’s still you and me. Don’t ever feel like you have to bottle things up because you’re worried it will stress me out. We’re in this crazy ass world together yeah?”
A sniffle comes from you, but your tears had subsided. You find yourself just staring at him, getting lost in those ocean blue eyes and you know you’re so eternally grateful to have a guy like Max in your life. If only the world could see just how compassionate and loving he actually was.
“Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably be miserable.”
And there was the smart ass Max that you knew all too well.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The season was coming to an end in a little over a month and you and Max and the whole team had been working overtime in trying to get the cars back up to the normal Red Bull standard that everyone had come to know. Max hadn’t won a race since Spain in June and with only four races left in the season the media had been in a whirlwind over a possible title fight between Max and Lando. You tried not to pay it much mind, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Max wouldn’t win his fourth championship this season. Even with a less dominant car he still went out there and gave it everything and his talent truly showed this season, to see him pulling that car up to podium level multiple times told everyone what they needed to know
Brazil was this weekend and it’s always a fun race in your opinion. Rain is always expected at least once throughout the weekend and the teams prepare for it, but this weekend it seemed that mother nature didn’t want this race to happen. Qualifying had gotten moved to Sunday morning which made things a little more complicated. If Max wrecked it didn’t give the mechanics much time at all to make any repairs. To make things even worse he was already starting with a five place grid penalty due to power unit change, so he had to make the most of this qualifying.
The garage is alive preparing to send the cars out for qualifying, but you can see how wet the track is and you can’t lie– you’re nervous. Usually you’d be on the pitwall by now, but you’re lingering in the garage waiting for Max. When he sees you he’s surprised and when you pull him to a somewhat less busy spot of the garage he’s worried that something is wrong.
“Everything alright?” He asks.
“Yes. Just wanted to tell you in person to be safe. It looks nasty out there.”
A smile creeps its way onto his face and before he can tease you about being a softie his head mechanic comes up asking him a question. You take that as a sign to get your ass over to the pitwall before anyone overhears anything else. With your headset on and your nerves at bay for the moment you turn around in your chair to see Max getting into his car.
“Alright. Green light at the end of the pitlane. Be smart and safe Verstappen.”
“Always am.”
You roll your eyes at him and prepare yourself for what could be an interesting qualifying session. When the first cars go out you know there’s going to be multiple crashes, you can just tell. Luckily Max makes it to Q2, but that's where everything goes wrong. A late called yellow flag has Max qualifying P12 which is actually P17 and you know when you hear the static in your headset that what comes out of his mouth is not going to be pretty.
“What the fuck? Why did they wait that long to pull out the flag? Should have been red to begin with, he went into the wall!”
“I know Max. We will discuss it later.”
You’re trying to not let himself get more community service, so the less he talks on the radio the better.
Max is raging as soon as he exits the cockpit of his car and you can tell from the pitwall that he has a bone to pick, but the race is in a few short hours and you have work to do. He can rant all he wants later, but you’re on a mission to somehow get him to win this race all the way from the back of the grid. He doesn’t come and find you for some time, but when he does you two don’t even mention the drama from qualifying. He’s clearly cooled down and you two know it’s now time to lock in and make this strategy work. You two go over three possible strategy plans, but you can tell from the fire in his eyes that he’s planning on pulling out a little bit of Mad Max today.
There’s maybe a half an hour until lights out and you take that time to go and find your parents who had been invited to attend the race this weekend. You like to think their very cool race engineer daughter is the reason they are here, but unfortunately you are a nepo baby and your Dad was invited because of who he was. Unsurprisingly you find Max and your parents chatting in the garage, Red Bull lanyards hanging from their necks. They greet you with a hug and kiss and Max and your Dad continue to talk while your Mom and you head out into the paddock.
“How’s the engineer life been treating my baby?” She asks as you two stroll down the paddock.
“I can’t lie, it's been stressful, but I love it. Helps that I’ve got such a good driver to work with though.”
“It’s nice to see you two reconnect.” There’s an inflection in her voice and you know there was a totally different meaning behind her words.
“What is it Mom?” You groan.
“Nothing. All I said it was nice to see you two reconnect. You two were close as kids and I’m not surprised that you found your way back to each other.”
You stop in your tracks, turning to face her. “Mom.”
“It’s truly nothing. It’s just a little bit of Mother’s intuition.” You stare blankly at her– waiting for her to continue. “I’ve heard how you talk to him over the radio, how you two look at each other in pictures, and I’ve witnessed firsthand how you two have acted today. You’re in love with him aren’t you?” Your heart starts to race and you don’t know what to tell her, of course your Mom would know this. She links her arm with yours and you two head back towards the Red Bull garage.
As you two walk through the entrance you find your Dad and Max still talking. Your Mom lowers her voice as she speaks to you. “Your silence tells me that I’m correct.” When Max spots you his whole face lights up and he’s waving for you to come join him and your Dad. “And I’d say it’s pretty safe to say he’s in love with you too.” She whispers to you before heading towards the two men.
You’re dumbfounded as you stand there in the middle of the busy garage, but the sweet sound of a familiar Dutch accent hollering for you has your legs moving before your brain catches up.
In what seems like no time at all you’re back on the pitwall and the cars are lined up on the grid. After a mess of a formation lap the five lights finally go out and the race is underway. Max wastes no time in making his way through the field and you’re crossing your fingers that this rain on the radar goes around the track, but as the first few droplets fall you know this is about to get interesting.
Max had made it up to second thanks to a combination of VSCs, other teams pit stops, and then by the grace of the racing gods a red flag. Which gave you guys a free pitstop and allowed for him to hold his P2 position. Things were looking up, but when the red flag lifted it seemed like the rain was only getting heavier. You knew at this point that this was the ultimate test of trust between Max and you. He was blindly following your orders and praying that what you were telling him wasn’t going to have him end up in the wall like so many others.
“No red flag? This is getting dangerous, even for me.”
“No red flag.”
“What the hell?”
“I know. Anything can happen out there. Please be careful.”
Your fingernails are non-existent at this point and you’re sure you’ve aged ten years from this race alone, but eventually Max overtakes Esteban and after more safety cars and yellow flags it’s down to the last lap. Max has got this and you can feel the happy tears starting to well up in your eyes. And when that checkered flag waves and he’s the first person to see it the whole pitwall and garage erupts into cheers. You would have thought he’d won the championship the way everyone was acting, but he was just reclaiming his spot at the top.
You can’t make your way over to the barricade fast enough and to see the pure joy on his face as he climbs out of the car makes your heart swell with happiness. It had been a long time coming this season and of course his first win in what seemed like forever was one hell of a drive. He comes running over to the team and when he spots you you’re the first person he’s hugging and practically pulling over the barricade. You can feel the happiness radiating off of him and you know that after this that he’s got the championship in the bag.
The podium celebration was one for the books and to see him radiating up there and smiling down at you had you forgetting that you’re keeping this relationship a secret. But the one thing you know you won’t forget is how in love you felt and what you don’t realize is how bad it’s going to hurt.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The two week break before the triple header that ends the season has you spending some time at headquarters. It's just the usual end of the season stuff, but when an email pops up from HR wanting to schedule a meeting you’re a little concerned. You don’t mention anything to Max, figuring it’s just maybe something silly, but when you walk into the HR office you can sense that it’s not something small.
“Y/N, so glad you could work this meeting into your schedule. I know you’re a busy woman so I appreciate it.”
You sit down in one of the plush chairs in front of her desk and you try to calm yourself, if it was something so bad then why would she be so cheery towards you. “Of course. What did you need to discuss with me?” God, could you sound any more robotic?
Her cheery demeanor turns more serious and when she clasps her hands together on her desk you know this is the moment that someone has found out about you and Max and you’re about to be canned.
“I don’t know how to really go about this, but I’m just going to come right out and say it. There was someone who got into contact with us and claimed to have pictures of you and Max engaging in less than professional activities after his win in Brazil.”
You’re stunned for a moment and don’t know what to say, you’d been mentally preparing yourself for this moment, yet when you actually hear it you realize you didn’t actually believe that this was the reason you were being called in. You two had been so careful about maintaining professional boundaries while at work and out in public, but apparently not that weekend.
“I can assure you that’s not the case with Max and I. Did they actually have the photos to back up their claims or is this all just hearsay?” You weren’t going to immediately give it up in case this was a test, but when she pulls out an envelope and slides it across the desk, you know it’s over.
The envelope though it weighs virtually nothing – feels like the heaviest thing in the world.
When you finally work up the courage to open it you feel like you’re going to throw up. Your palms are sweaty, mouth is watering, and you feel light headed. There in your hands is the thing that is going to ruin your career– pictures of you and Max kissing outside his hotel room in Sao Paulo. How could you two have been so dumb? You aren’t sure if you want to cry or scream or throw up.
“There’s no denying that it’s you in those photos, but I’m here to give you your options.”
“Options?” Your eyes are still locked to the photos that are still being held in your shaky hand.
“Listen. I admire what you’ve accomplished as a woman in a fully male dominated sport. I also know what happens to women who let things like this go public. Their hard work is diminished to becoming their partner's significant other or your hard work could only have been accomplished by selling your body in exchange for promotions. Luckily, I was the one who saw that email and I squashed it early enough to where we won’t have a scandal on our hands, but I need something from you in exchange.”
You’re like a deer caught in headlights and there's so many things going through your brain that you can’t even communicate with her.
“I get that this is overwhelming and the last thing you wanted to happen, but right now it’s only you, Max, and me that know about your relationship at Red Bull and we want it to stay that way. I also know that you’ve gotten offers from McLaren and Ferrari to work for them next year and you’ve ignored them.” How did she know about that? You hadn’t told a soul, not even your parents. You’d been mulling over it for some time. You didn’t want to leave Max and you had made a home at Red Bull, but McLaren especially had been so adamant about getting you to join the team. Your contract with Red Bull was only for a year, but you figured they’d resign you, now it doesn’t seem that way. “So, you’re only real option here if you want to continue to make a name for yourself in this world is to break things off with Max and accept one of those offers.”
Your eyes snap up towards hers and you can feel your heart about ready to beat out of your chest. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but my higher ups will not want to deal with this scandal if you two continue to be careless. There will be no workplace romance, you will be gone and your hardwork will be for nothing. I followed your journey Y/N, you deserve to be out there racing with all of them, but life gave you lemons and you somehow made some damn good lemonade. Now don’t let them drink your lemonade.”
She takes the photos and the envelope out of your hands and you hear her put them through the paper shredder. You feel like you’re frozen in time, like how you felt back in that meeting at Williams all those years ago. “I’m sure it’s nothing too serious between you two anyways. So this shouldn’t be a hard decision.”
You’re brought back to reality and the words are slipping past your lips before you even realize it. “It’s not serious.”
Yes it is.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The following days leading up to Vegas are a blur, you try to drown yourself in your work and Max can’t seem to leave you alone. It’s not that you don’t want to see him, it’s just that you’re waging a war in your mind right now and he’s at the root of it.
You try to ignore the impending doom hanging over your head and actually enjoy this weekend. If Max finishes one place ahead of Lando this weekend he’s going to be a four time World’s Driver Champion. It’s the thing you guys have worked towards the whole season and to see it finally come together might be one of the highlights of your career. Vegas as always is a spectacle, the lights, the parties, the celebrities. It’s nothing like any of the European races or really any other race if you were being honest.
When the sun sets and the track lights come on your mind only focuses on the task at hand and not the ultimate ultimatum you’ve been given. Qualifying goes somewhat to plan, Max didn’t manage to get pole but he does qualify ahead of Lando, which puts him in a great spot for tomorrow. He’s buzzing once he gets out of the car and when he finds you he can tell there’s something slightly off with you. Your energy isn’t necessarily what it usually is, but he figures maybe you’re cold and tired, so he doesn’t press the matter.
You try to follow the script the following night, but the longer this thing festers in your brain the more you can’t keep on your poker face.
“Twenty seconds till formation lap. Be smart and safe.”
“Copy.”
The race thankfully is pretty unremarkable. The main goal tonight was to just beat Lando, if you managed to score a win also that would be great, but the Championship was what you were going after tonight.
And that’s just what Max does.
The roars from the crowd and the team as Max crosses the finish line before Lando are deafening and you can feel the mixture of happy and sad tears streaming down your face.
“Max! You’re a four time champion!”
It’s nothing but pure glee back from him across the radio and you can’t help but laugh at the simply lovely through the tears. You managed to pull yourself together and accept the congrats from the rest of the pitwall and make your way through the crowd to see if you can find Max, but he’s already trying to find you. The crowd makes space for you to get to the barricade and when Max spots you there’s nothing but love in his eyes and it absolutely kills you. He pulls you up over the barricade and envelopes you in the most bone crushing hug you’ve ever experienced. There’s millions of cameras around so you have to be careful, but you savor the moment for as long as you can. “We did it!” Max exclaims and you can see the happy tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.
“We did! I told you it was gonna happen, didn't I?”
Seconds later you two get into a Rolls Royce with a cameraman that takes you along the track. You look over at him and he’s radiating with happiness and the ache in your chest only seems to grow. “I’m so proud of you Max.” That smile that you love so dearly beams back at you and you want to reach out and caress his cheek, but you know you can’t.
“I couldn’t have done this without you. This championship is as much yours as it is mine. I hope you know that.” He goes to reach for your hand, but then remembers the cameraman and quickly snatches it away. Silence fills the luxurious car and you know Max is trying to take in being a four time back to back champion, while you’re coming to terms with the fact that not too long from now you’re going to not only break the man you love’s heart, but your own.
That little girl with a dream is still inside of you, she’s with you every race weekend. You love Max more than you should, but you know if you continue on with this you’ll be the one losing your job and not him. It’s not fair, but you learned that life isn’t fair early on and you’ll be damned if you allow yourself to lose something else that you worked so hard to achieve. So if that means losing Max and moving teams then you guess that's how it has to be. Your Dad’s words replay in your head ‘it’ll pass’ and you know that nothing ever truly passes and that all you do is learn to live with it. The ache gets weaker over time, but it never truly goes away.
Even though you found a new dream to pursue you still have moments of truly missing racing. Like when you see the pure excitement and joy on Max’s face when he wins a race or when you see the adrenaline radiating off of him when he gets out of the car, you can’t ignore that ache in your chest. You can’t help but sometimes still think that should be you and you know you shouldn’t feel like that about the man you love, but you’ve never been able to live through him. He’s told you so many times that his wins and now this championship are as much yours as they are his because without you he wouldn’t be able to win. But those words do nothing to heal the teenage girl who got her dreams shattered just because she was a girl. You want to be able to have your dream and keep the man you love, but the career you chose doesn’t allow for you to have both. So for that little girl that still lives inside of you, you choose your dream.
You attend all the team celebrations and end up getting soaked in champagne more times than you can count and you try to savor every last moment you have with Max and that includes going out and celebrating and coming back to his hotel room and celebrating some more. You savor it all fully knowing this is the last time you’re going to make love to him and kiss him and be held by him. And when he finally decides to fully bare his heart to you as you lay in his arms that night, you stick your knife right through it.
“I love you.”
You don’t answer him for a moment and you know this is how it’s got to happen. The longer you wait the harder it’s going to be.
“It’ll pass.”
Max isn’t sure he heard you right and he’s choking on his own words trying to form a coherent sentence. “What are you talking about schatje?”
The tears are already falling down your cheeks and you know there is no coming back from this. “Please don’t call me that.”
Max removes you from his grasp and sits up in bed. “Why not?”
“It makes this harder than it needs to be.”
He’s more than confused at the moment. His heart is racing and you’re crying and he doesn’t understand what is going on. He just won his fourth championship and finally told the woman of his dreams that he loves her and she replies with it’ll pass? “Y/N what the hell is going on? I love you and I know you love me back. I see it in your eyes when you talk to me or when you look at me. I hear it when you tell me to be safe as I line up on the grid. Am I a fool or something? Have I been blind this whole time?”
“I love you more than you could imagine.”
“Then why are you sobbing and telling me it’ll pass and asking me to not call you schatje?” In the back of his mind he knows, but he doesn’t want to come to terms with it.
You just want to pull him back into your arms and kiss him and take back everything you’ve said so far, but you can’t and you wish this wasn’t your reality at the moment. “We can’t be together anymore Max.”
He furrows his eyebrows at you, he really can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. “Are you being serious? Like are you being totally honest with me right now? Because we have something special here Y/N. I want to know why you’re throwing this away so easily.”
You take a shaky deep breath and sit up next to him in the bed. “Someone got a picture of us kissing outside your hotel room in Brazil and Red Bull’s HR got wind of it. I got called in and she showed me the pictures. They squashed it before it got out, but Max, she basically told me that if we were to come out as a couple that I’d lose my job. I can’t afford to lose out another dream of mine Max. You don’t understand what it’s like.”
He grabs your hand and the simple feeling of his skin on yours has more tears rolling down your cheeks. “Listen, I’d give away every championship every wi-”
“You don’t mean that Max.”
He’s up out of the bed at this point and you fear it’s only going to escalate from here.
“For fucks sake yes I do! I know we’ve made things a little complicated, but we can make it work. I mean I’m Max Ver-”
“Exactly, you’re Max Verstappen. You won’t have to worry about losing your job over this. You’re F1’s golden boy, world famous Max Verstappen. It’ll be a little slap on the wrist for you, but for me in this boys club? It’ll be hell. I’ll be painted a whore, a girl whose only way to have gotten into this position was to have had sex with every guy I had to. You don’t know what it’s like to be one of the best drivers of your generation and not get to follow your childhood dreams simply because no one wants to take the chance on signing a female driver. I’ve had to give up one of my dreams and I’m not about to have to lose another one. So yes, I love you and it’s fucking killing me inside to do this, but sometimes we have to let go of the things we love. This horrible heart wrenching feel we are both experiencing will pass. I promise you. You deserve to be with someone who can give you their all.”
He sits down at the end of the bed, your words finally sinking in and he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. Like he's gone into the wall at full speed. “I don’t want anyone else but you Y/N.” You crawl to the end of the bed and wrap your arms around him and it’s at that moment you realize he’s crying too and the last little bit of your heart that’s intact finally breaks. “I’m not gonna be able to convince you to stay am I?”
You press a chaste kiss to his bare shoulder. “No.” You whisper. “I’m probably always gonna love you Max, but this is how it has to be.”
His hand reaches up and grabs yours and a shaky breath escapes from him before he speaks. “Guess you finally made me cry didn’t you?”
FIA Gala 2025
The black gown you’ve chosen to wear tonight is stunning, but you’ve still not grown accustomed to wearing them. And you haven’t grown to like these fancy Galas either, but you’ve got to go to it though. You’re being honored for being the first female engineer to win back to back WDCs with two different drivers on two different teams . Your season with McLaren this year was nothing shy of spectacular and people actually started to recognize your talent.
You’ve been nursing this glass of champagne for some time now, listening to the team talk about the season while all you can think about is taking this dress off later. They get called over to a different table to talk with some sponsors and you take the alone time to scroll through your phone. You’re just about ready to go and see if there’s anything here other than champagne when you hear him speak from behind you and that all too familiar ache blooms in your chest.
“Is this seat taken?”
#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#mine#writing
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Don't Call Me Kid - chapter 1
(Rafe Cameron x Reader, series, 3.9k words)
series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
⇢ series masterlist
The drive down to Miami was idyllic. Windows rolled down, you and Carter sang along to the playlist you’d made for the trip and ate your favorite childhood snacks. Blue skies above you as Carter’s new Jeep flew down the coast, you actually started to feel excited for the week ahead.
Then, you pulled up to the Airbnb, and it all faded.
The second you saw all of Carter’s high school friends in the driveway, unpacking their cars and exchanging hugs, it all came rushing back. The way you felt like you never really fit in, how they’d tease you for being quiet, how the boys’ eyes would skip right over you in search of your sister.
Carter turned down the radio when she noticed the way you were biting your lip with trepidation.
“It’s gonna be fun,” she tried to assure you. “Promise.”
You put on your best fake smile, determined to make this a good week for her. After everything she’s done for you, if all she wanted in return was a fun week at the beach, you’d give her that. You pushed your anxiety down as best as you could and hopped out of the Jeep.
“Oh shit!” Topper called, standing at the open trunk of his Range Rover. “Is that who I think it is?”
He rushed over, sweeping Carter up and throwing her over his shoulder.
“Put me down, Top!” She yelped, not entirely convincing that she wanted him to.
He set her down and smiled wide at her, just as smitten as ever. She gave him a playful pat on the head, like a dog, and went to get the bags from her car. Topper’s eyes shifted over to you and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
“No way, Little Carter is that you?” He teased, using your least favorite nickname.
“What’s up, Topper?” You tried to sound unannoyed.
Before he could answer, still slightly gawking at you, another voice emerged from the front door of the house.
“Yo who is it, Top?” Kelce yelled down from the top of the front steps.
“Come see for yourself, jackass!” Topper shouted back.
Kelce hopped down from the top step and approached you in the driveway, throwing his arm around Topper’s shoulder.
“No fucking way,” he said, when it finally dawned on him who you were. He looked you up and down and added, “what do they put in the water at that fancy school of yours?”
“Smoothe, man,” Topper smirked at him.
Your cheeks burned, you rolled your eyes at them to try and seem unaffected. They had never talked to you like this before. The majority of your interactions with Topper and Kelce in high school consisted of them teasing you about Rafe and asking where your sister was. They never even came close to flirting with you, and now you couldn’t decide whether you liked it or not.
“Can you two stop drooling over my baby sister and come help me with these fucking bags?” Carter called to them from the back of her Jeep.
“Yes ma’am,” Kelce winked at you before going to help your sister carry in the hundreds of dollars worth of beer she’d made you stop to pick up on the way here.
“You assholes better pay us back,” she told them, passing Topper a couple of 12 packs.
“Okay, give me your sister’s number and I’ll Venmo her right now,” he responded with a smirk.
You actually laughed at that one, which caused his chest to puff out with pride. Boys had always been somewhat of a mystery to you, but these two were painfully easy. Their playfulness helped you relax a little, wondering if this week might not be so bad after all.
Once you were inside, you and Carter each chose your own rooms, all your recently opened trust funds allowing you to rent the biggest house in the neighborhood. After unpacking, you walked down to the beach with Topper, Kelce, a couple of Carter’s girlfriends, and a guy you’d never met.
Topper and Kelce introduced him as their friend from college, a frat brother. His name was Tom, he was on the taller side, brunette, super cute. The way his toned arms flexed in his sleeveless shirt was the first thing you saw, but his bright, dimpled smile is what really caught your attention.
When you told him your name, offering him your hand to shake, he held it for a few seconds longer than any of the other girls and Carter gave you a knowing look. You’d never wished so badly that you knew how to turn off your blush.
Once you got down to the water, you helped Carter set up the umbrella and volleyball net you’d brought. You played intramural volleyball for your college and had actually gotten really good at it, you were excited to play with Carter, who’d always wanted you to get into sports with her.
When everything was set-up, you started to take off the bathing suit cover you had on over your bikini, but quickly realized there was a problem.
“Shit, Car, did we even bring sunscreen?” You asked your sister.
“Fuuuuck,” Carter said with a careless giggle. “Guess we’ll just burn.”
“Um no, I’m not listening to you whine about your sunburn all week,” you scolded her. “Top, did you bring sunscreen?”
“I hate to say no to you, beautiful, but…no,” Topper answered.
“Great, so we have eight hundred Natty Lights but no sunscreen,” you huffed.
“Sounds like a perfect vacation to me,” Kelce joked, already cracking his first beer.
“I brought some sunscreen,” Tom offered helpfully.
“Ah, my hero!” you smiled at him playfully.
You could feel all eyes on you when you said it. None of them had ever seen you flirt so comfortably before, or really even heard you speak. This was the person you were at school, but they had never met her before. You cleared your throat, feeling uncomfortable.
“Could I borrow some?” You asked Tom, who appeared oblivious to the shift in atmosphere.
“Yeah, it’s up at the house, I’ll go grab it!” You watched him run up the beach, his toned back muscles flexing, Carter bumped her hip into yours.
“Five minutes and he’s already whipped for you,” she teased. “Told you this trip was a good idea.”
By the time Rafe finally pulled up to the house in his truck, all the rooms had been claimed except for the shitty basement, with its low ceiling and lone twin sized bed. After dropping his bags, scowling at the mildew smell in the small space, he filled one of the coolers he brought with some imported beers and white claws and headed toward the beach.
“Yo, Top!” He called from the back porch, beckoning Topper up from the beach to help him carry the heavy cooler.
“Jesus, what you got in here?” Topper grunted, struggling to lift his side of the cooler.
“Nicer shit than anything you brought,” Rafe said. “I’m not drinking cheap gas station beers all week.”
“Fine by me man,” Topper added a second hand to the cooler to help him lift it.
As they carried the cooler down the beach, Rafe mocking Topper for his inability to lift his share of the weight, Rafe scanned the private section of the beach to take a manual headcount of his housemates for the week.
He saw everyone he expected, the same people that would gather at the island club every time there was a break from school, the party always finding its way back to Tannyhill. The same girls that hung around him and his friends in high school, Carter, who he had never gotten along with, Kelce, who he had seen just last week, and…someone he didn’t recognize.
The mystery girl was facing away from him, but he could still tell she was gorgeous. Her bathing suit wrap hugging her body, her shiny, bouncy hair flowing in the ocean breeze. She bent down to set up her beach chair and he nearly dropped the cooler.
“Woah, man,” Topper laughed. “Now who’s got butterfingers?”
“Who is that?” Rafe asked sternly, ignoring Topper’s harassment.
“Dude, are you serious?” Topper eyed him.
Before Rafe could ask what Topper meant, you turned around, looking up towards the house in his direction, shielding the sun from your eyes and smiling a big, beautiful smile.
This time, Rafe really did drop the cooler. It was you. He hadn’t seen you in four years, and nobody told him you were coming on this trip. Nobody told him you looked like that now, either.
Everything that happened between you was so long ago, but he assumed you still hated him. But now, you were looking right at him and smiling. His lips started to turn upward for a moment and he almost lifted his hand to wave at you, when someone bumped into his shoulder.
“Shit, my bad man,” Tom said, his eyes not even looking at Rafe, glued to you. He ran off and approached you, and Rafe realized with a punch to his gut, it was this random guy you were smiling at and not him.
Rafe and Topper dragged the cooler a bit farther down the beach, dropping it behind all the umbrellas. Rafe immediately grabbed one of his expensive IPAs and twisted it open, throwing back a sip bitterly as he watched Tom hand you something, you smiled and touched his arm gratefully.
Carter approached the boys and the cooler, following Rafe’s eyes to you. She twisted her lips, trying to hide her smile, everything about this day going exactly as she had planned.
“Hey, Rafe,” She smirked. “You good?”
Rafe looked at her, eyes narrow as he tried to catch her meaning. When he realized she had caught him staring, he cleared his throat and took another sip of his beer, trying to seem nonchalant.
“Fine,” he mumbled.
Rafe reached in the cooler and grabbed a white claw, offering it to Carter. Things had always been chilly between them, though they’d still been cordial with each other. Aside from that big argument senior year which they never talked about. Now, it hung in the salty air so prevalently, your presence after all this time stirring up old tensions.
Carter accepted the drink with a thank you, cracking it open and looking back to you. Both Carter and Rafe’s eyes went wide when you took off your cover-up, revealing a barely-there bikini and the new body none of your high school friends had seen yet.
Everyone on the private beach was staring at you, but Rafe was staring at you, his knuckles going white around his beer as he eyed you up and down. His heart pounded so loudly in his chest he was afraid Carter and Topper would be able to hear it. Then, when you handed Tom the sunscreen and asked him to rub it on your back, an unfamiliar feeling bubbled in Rafe’s stomach and crawled up to his chest. He glared at Topper.
“Who the fuck is that guy?” He barked.
Carter and Topper’s heads both snapped towards him, neither surprised to hear the usual edge in his voice, though while Topper looked at Rafe with concern, Carter’s face only portrayed pure amusement.
“Who, Tom?” Topper asked, watching as Rafe’s eyeline returned to you, starting to catch on to the source of Rafe’s irritability. “He’s a brother from Alpha Tau.”
“I thought this was supposed to be a high school reunion trip,” Rafe snapped at him.
“Wow, someone’s pressed,” Carter beamed at him, delighted in his discomfort.
“I’m fine, just didn’t know we could invite people, that’s all,” he insisted.
“Sure, Rafey, that’s all,” she goaded him.
Rafe and Carter gave each other a knowing look, Topper’s eyes flashing between them, utterly out of the loop.
“What did I miss?” He prodded.
“Nothing,” Carter assured him. “Let’s play chicken, you’re on my team, Topper.”
“Oh hell yes,” he dashed after her like an excited puppy.
Rafe ignored the interaction, eyes glued to you in the distance as you settled into your beach chair and pulled out a book, Tom leaving your side and heading toward the water to join the game that had started. Rafe smiled, of course you were reading while everyone else was partying. Maybe you hadn’t changed that much after all.
The spine of the brand new book cracked as you opened it, you sighed happily, loving the sound. You rarely ever got to read just for fun, always so busy with schoolwork, and you were so excited to dig into the fluffy romance you’d bought off tiktok and turn your brain off.
But then, just as your eyes grazed over the first sentence, you heard a voice from behind you that made your sun-kissed skin go cold.
“Whatcha readin’?” Rafe asked, his tall frame casting a shadow over your sunbathing spot.
You had pretended not to see him when he arrived a few minutes ago, throwing your attention at Tom instead, who took it happily, no idea that he was just a distraction from the flips your stomach was doing at Rafe’s arrival. You actually thought for a minute you might be able to avoid him this whole trip, but of course, he was pouncing as soon as you were alone. He always preferred talking to you when no one was around, sharing hours of meaningful late night conversations together, yet ignoring you at parties and in the halls at school as if you barely knew each other.
You closed the book slowly and placed it in your lap, any clever words you had to say to him flew suddenly from your brain. Regret swept over you, it was foolish to think you could pretend to be unaffected by his presence. He’d said two words to you and you were already nervous, overthinking every movement you made.
When you didn’t answer him, Rafe took it upon himself to plop down in the beach chair next to you, leaning over to read the title of your book.
“Is it any good?” You still didn’t look at him, but you could hear the teasing smile in his voice.
“Wouldn’t know,” you looked down at your lap. “Just started it.”
“Well let me know what you think, might need to borrow it,” he kept his eyes on you, running over your body, making his own face go warm.
“Since when do you read?” You finally lifted your eyes to him.
Rafe’s jaw went slightly slack, all the swagger he’d brought on this trip with him suddenly disappearing. You were even prettier up close, your features more defined and striking than he remembered.
“People can change,” he finally mustered up, less bravado in his voice.
You gave yourself exactly three seconds to look at him, eyes sweeping quickly over his nose, lips, chin, anything but his eyes. His eyes were like a prison you’d once been held in, and you swore you’d never go back.
After your three seconds were up, you shifted your gaze to the ocean, hating that you wished you had three more to take him in. He was just as, if not more, gorgeous as you remembered. His features somehow sharp and soft at the same time. His lips pink and soft, skin a golden bronze even though the summer had just started. His hair was a little shorter now, but still long enough to stick up in the back in that messy way you liked.
The familiar red hue crept up your neck slowly, making its way to your cheekbones. You needed him to get up and leave you alone before you broke into an all out blush. You picked up your book and pretended to start reading again.
“You should go play with everyone else, looks like Kelce could use someone on his team,” you threw out, hoping he’d take the hint.
“What if I’d rather stay here and talk to you?” He asked, voice dropping just a hint.
You thought you could handle this, but you couldn’t. Was he seriously flirting with you right now? If you knew Rafe, the second you tried to flirt back, he’d grow uninterested and blow you off. With him, it was always like he convinced you to jump off a cliff with him, but then at the last second, he’d step back, watching apathetically as you fell all alone.
“I need to go unpack,” you said, standing from your chair and grabbing your book and beach bag, knowing full well your stuff was already neatly sorted in your room.
He looked up at you as you collected your stuff, and you hated the way you were sucking in your stomach. You spent four years working hard to love your body the way it was, and now, in front of him, all that self-consciousness came flooding back.
You hurried away, catching Carter’s eye as you beelined for the house.
“Where are you going?” She said, slightly out of breath by the time she caught up to you.
“I can’t do this,” you explained, still walking fast.
“Wait,” she grabbed your arm, causing you to halt, hot sand burning your feet. “What happened?”
“He’s here,” you didn’t have to explain any further for her to understand.
“I know,” she said sympathetically. “But we knew he would be. We’re gonna ignore him, remember?”
“I don’t think I can, Car,” you sighed. “I think I should just go.”
“No, please please please don’t go,” she begged. “I need you here. And you were having fun before, right? Tom’s cute! Just hang out with us and tell Rafe to go fuck himself.”
“That sounds more like something you’d say than me,” you smiled at her.
“Okay, fine,” she agreed. “I’ll tell him to fuck himself and to leave you alone.”
“No, don’t, I don’t want to cause any drama,” you requested.
“Well I think storming out twenty minutes after we got here would be pretty dramatic,” she argued.
Your lips in a tight line, you gave her an annoyed look, but she did kind of have a point. Everyone would ask why you left, and how would Carter explain it to them? Plus, you didn’t want to give Rafe the satisfaction of knowing he affected you this much.
“We’re about to play volleyball,” Carter said. “Come show them what a beast you are now! And then after you kick everyone’s ass, if you’re still miserable, you can leave and I’ll tell everyone you got sick.”
You squinted back at the group on the beach, considering her offer. Topper and Kelce were wrestling in the sand, somehow both losing. You smiled affectionately at their antics, you were really enjoying hanging out with them before Rafe got here.
“Okay, fine,” you agreed. “One game.”
It took half of one volley for you to get comfortable, head fully in the game. You were tempted to put your cover-up back on before playing, well aware of Rafe’s eyes on you through the net, but you decided not to, determined to love yourself the same way you had grown to when you thought you’d never see him again.
Tom was on Rafe’s team, also eyeing you through the net, but with a much more innocent, friendly expression.
“You’re pretty good!” He said when you’d spiked a ball into the sand right next to him.
“Thank you,” you smiled sweetly. “I play at school.”
“Hey man, stop flirting with our opponent and focus,” Rafe snapped at him from the serving line.
Tom just raised his eyebrows at you in amusement and mouthed “I’m in trouble.” You giggled and Rafe seethed, slamming the ball so hard on his next serve that his hand was red.
After a few more volleys, you had rotated until you and Rafe were face to face across the net again. As you waited for one of your sister’s friends, Sabrina, to make her third attempt at serving, Rafe eyed you up and down.
“You look good,” he said quietly, so only you could hear.
It lit a fire in you, but not the one he was hoping for. You locked-in, bent low in a competitive stance, ready for the setter to tee you up. When Sabrina finally made her serve, you went all out, diving in the sand and running all over the court to keep the ball in play. Rafe’s athletic instincts took over, and he met every one of your attempts to score with a firm block. Eventually, your lungs burning with your heavy breathing, Rafe spiked the ball and you slipped in the sand, letting it get past you and land next to your feet with a thud.
You looked up at Rafe, who was high fiving his teammates and looking down at you with a smirk. He ducked under the net and reached out a hand to help you up.
“Sorry, kid,” he grinned as he lifted you to your feet. “I’m just that good.”
Kid. It all came back as you stared at him. The hours spent in your car, waiting for him dutifully. All the late night texts that meant everything to you and nothing to him. The cheek kisses and side hugs that fueled your fantasies. His hands around Cassie’s waist as he kissed her in broad daylight, though he’d only talk to you behind closed doors.
Your cheeks turned red as they so often did, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment, it was from anger. He wouldn’t make you feel small anymore, you wouldn’t let him.
You turned to your team to fire them up, “let’s go, fucking lock in guys! You got me Top?”
Topper nodded with excitement, loving your new energy, as he got ready for his turn to serve.
“Fuck yeah, I got you, captain,” he saluted you.
Topper served. Rafe tried to dominate again but you were two seconds ahead of him on every play. Now it was you that had him diving around in the sand like an idiot. The smug smile wiped from his face, his jaw now clenched in frustration as he grunted with effort every time he hit the ball.
You were on fire, un-fucking-stoppable. After a few more volleys, your team was winning, one point from game.
You wiped the back of your hand across your forehead and down your neck, flicking off the sweat that had pooled. You felt two sets of eyes on you, Tom’s and Rafe’s, but you didn’t care, laser focused on your next play. When you lifted off the ground, body stretching to reach for the ball, you threw every frustration into the hit, hand colliding with the ball as hard as it could. Rafe dove, but he couldn’t get it, he crashed down hard, sand flying in his face as he whiffed, and you won the game.
Your side of the net broke into cheers, high fiving and whooping obnoxiously. Tom approached the net to offer his sportsmanlike congratulations, but you didn’t notice him, already making your way towards Rafe, who still sat defeated on the ground, eyes burning from the sand.
He smiled as you approached, reaching out his hand, thinking you were gonna help him up. But you just stepped around him, bending down, lowering your voice so only he could hear as you said,
“Sorry, kid, but I’m better.”
You left him sitting there, hand reaching for nobody like an idiot, dumbstruck and down bad as you sauntered up the beach.
(chapter 2)
a/n: I know I literally just posted the prologue but I didn't want to wait to get into the actual story. I'd love to hear what you think and where you want to see the story go! xoxo
please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fic#obx fic#drew starkey#rafe obx#rafe fanfic#rafe fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#obx#outer banks#outer banks fic#topper thornton#x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff
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