its-unfair

[its-unfair]

Hi!! I hope you're having a great day so far! I was wondering if you'd ever consider writing anything for Jenson Button? Maybe something fluffy where reader has a bad day and Jenson and his dogs comfort her?

If not, that's okay too! Just curious.

P.S. I see you're (relatively) new to posting fics. Just wanted to give you a bit of encouragement to keep going. I saw your Max fic and it was great! 💖

🦞

hii, hope you're okay!

thank you so much for this request, I really enjoyed it <33

fun fact about me: I have another Tumblr account (i used to write about the oldies 🤭) buuuut I stopped posting there for many different reasons

Thank you so much for the nice words, you were really kind and I hope you like what I wrote <3

(english is not my first language so if you notice any mistake just let me know!)

PUPPY LOVE

The moment Jenson heard the way Y/n dropped her keys by the door, he knew something was wrong.

Somehow, he could read her like no one else. So he made his way to the threshold that separated the hallway from the kitchen. There she was. Standing still, staring into nothing, until she noticed his presence.

‘Rough day?’ he asked, his voice soft, laced with a warmth he hoped might envelop her.

A small tremble crossed Y/n’s lips before she answered in a thread of a voice, ‘I think… I think they’re going to let me go.’

A quiet disbelief flickered across Jenson’s face – not because he doubted her words, but because of the sheer injustice of it. Her worth, the light she brought to everything she touched, was so evident. But he knew at once that the root of her anguish ran deeper.

‘Are you sure that’s all it is, darling?’ he asked gently, his gaze searching beyond her words for the truth.

‘It’s just that…’ The sentence broke apart, the knot in her throat tightening painfully, choking off the rest. It wasn’t a lack of trust in Jenson; quite the opposite – she knew he was a safe place. But the tangle of worries in her head felt too heavy to unpick all at once.

‘It’s all right,’ Jenson said tenderly, stepping forward and reaching out a hand to her. ‘Come here.’

The blond wrapped his arms around her and let the weight on her shoulders rest in his for a while. He felt her body lean into his, as if she could hardly stand on her own. He held her tighter and pressed a kiss to her hair, murmuring reassurances that everything would be all right.

The silence and peace surrounding them were soon interrupted by the sound of tiny paws scrambling across the floor. Jenson’s dogs, ever the affectionate intruders, leapt onto their humans, forcing them slightly apart.

Y/n’s relationship with Jenson’s dogs had been something he’d adored from the start, and it had given him a good feeling about her. She didn’t just look after them – she treated them as her own. And now, the jealous little guardians of affection seemed to be demanding attention from their favourite human. Y/n, a faint smile breaking through her sadness, knelt down to greet them, fully aware that these small beings also needed her love – and really, who was she to deny them?

One of them, the smallest, clumsily climbed onto her legs and licked her face with devotion. The other curled up beside her as if he knew exactly what she needed. Y/n let herself drop to her knees and pulled them both into a gentle hug, burying her face in their warm little bodies, letting the tears fall quietly.

‘They really do know how to make an entrance,’ she murmured, her voice cracked but a touch lighter.

Jenson crouched beside her without a word at first. He simply placed a hand on her back and stroked in slow, steady circles. As if the world could wait. As if, in that small corner of the kitchen, time didn’t exist.

‘I don’t have all the answers,’ he whispered, ‘but I do know one thing: there’s no place I’d rather be right now than here, with you. And if that job of yours can’t see how brilliant you are, then it’s their loss – not yours.’

She lifted her gaze to him, eyes glistening – but something new shimmered there too. Something like hope. Like calm.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve no idea what this means to me. What you mean to me.’

Jenson smiled and leaned in to kiss her forehead. Then he sat down fully on the floor beside her, not caring how uncomfortable it might be. With one arm around her waist, he pulled her close. The dogs, thrilled to have their humans at their level, quickly joined them: one settled in Y/n's lap, the other pressing up against Jenson’s leg.

‘What do you say we don’t think about anything sad tonight?’ he offered, stroking one of the dogs down its back. ‘We’ll order your favourite takeaway, watch something utterly silly, and give these two a feast of treats so they’ll leave us in peace for a bit.’

Y/n let out a soft, genuine laugh, lightening the air in the room.

‘And you’ll let me choose the film? Even if it’s Mamma Mia for the fifth time this year?’

Jenson gave an exaggerated sigh, but looked at her with unmistakable tenderness.

‘For you, I’d watch Mamma Mia on loop all week.’

She hugged him tightly and rested her head on his shoulder.

The pups, as if sensing the moment, let out a synchronised sigh and nestled themselves between them, forming a kind of collective canine embrace.

Later that evening, the English rain tapped gently against the living room windows, wrapping the house in a soft, steady hush. The television bathed the space in the warm tones of Mamma Mia, and on the sofa, beneath a thick, cosy blanket, they lay together.

Y/n had her head on Jenson’s chest, listening to the calm rhythm of his breathing while his fingers combed through her hair with the kind of gentleness reserved for things delicate and precious. He had one arm stretched across the back of the sofa, as though his only role that night was to hold her.

‘You do realise you’re reciting the lines from memory?’ he murmured, amused, after hearing her repeat one of Meryl Streep’s bits without noticing.

‘I can’t help it,’ she replied quietly, a shy smile curving her lips. ‘It soothes me.’

‘Then let it keep playing,’ said Jenson, kissing the top of her head.

The dogs were fast asleep at their feet. One of them, the more restless, had climbed onto the sofa and curled up in Y/n's lap like a living cushion, one paw resting on her arm. The other had taken a corner of the couch, occasionally stretching his nose out to check that his humans were still nearby.

Y/n sighed deeply – but it was no longer a sad sigh. It was the kind that releases built-up tension and allows relief to take its place.

‘Thank you for today, Jenson. For not making me talk when I couldn’t… for staying.’

‘I’ll always stay, Y/n. Not just when everything’s fine. I’ll stay when you’re in pieces too,’ he said without a hint of hesitation. ‘And if the world comes crashing down on you, we’ll lift it together.’

She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of Jenson’s body, the dogs’ breathing, and the soft strains of the musical lull her like a bedtime song.

And in that moment, she thought – maybe the day hadn’t been so bad after all.

Because she was home. Because she was with him.

And because there was love in every corner of the sofa. Even in the muddy paw prints now decorating the blanket.

[its-unfair]

NOT A LOVE STORY | Max Verstappen

max verstappen x reader

2021 f1 season

Summary: One thing y/n has always known is that being the only woman in Formula 1 would be hard — and finding success would be even harder. And yet, here she is, fighting for the 2021 championship against the boy who used to wipe snot in her hair when they were kids: Max Verstappen. Neither of them is the other’s favourite person. While Max despises all the attention y/n has always received, y/n loathes the way Max always seemed to catch up to her — one way or another.

Alone, they’re fast. Together? They’re unstoppable

Author's note: hii. This will be a short chapter but... let me introduce you guys this two special characters. I personally love them so so much

“Y/n! Y/n, please! Just one question,” a journalist shouted, forcing her to pause for a moment. “What’s your opinion on Max’s block? Do you think the FIA should have penalised him?”

“Of course they should have,” she snapped, barely slowing down. “But let’s be honest — it’s Verstappen. They’re not going to penalise Red Bull’s golden boy.”

She walked on, fury pounding through her veins with every heartbeat. Bloody hell.

Who the fuck does he think he is? It was always the same. The same fucking story.

Third. Third again.

And all because of Verstappen.

Being a woman behind the wheel was already a challenge. Doing it in a machine going over 200 kilometres an hour, in a paddock that had doubted her since day one — that was something else entirely.

Y/n knew that better than anyone.

She’d received insults, complaints, threats. And she couldn’t care less. After years of failure, she was the one bringing Williams back to life. And there was no way in hell she was going to let Max take that from her too.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Verstappen?”

“Me?” he asked, standing slowly, deliberately. There was danger in the calm. “Nothing at all. But I could name a few things that are wrong with you and your team — starting with your complete incompetence.”

He was trying to intimidate her.

He’d tried it before.

It hadn’t worked when they were kids. It sure as hell wouldn’t now.

“You blocked me on my fastest lap,” she accused, cold and sharp. “Not to mention all your little unsportsmanlike tricks. You’ve been trying to sabotage my race since qualifying yesterday.”

“For God’s sake, Y/l/n,” he scoffed. “Grow up.”

His piercing blue eyes met hers like a challenge, like he could see something she didn’t want him to see. But he wouldn’t like what was inside her head and wasn’t about to waste time understanding it.

“Next time,” she said, voice like steel, “expect the same. And don’t come crying like a bloody child — or send daddy to fix it for you.”

“Y/n. Max. Chill,” Checo cut in, noticing a couple of cameras turning in their direction.

“I’m completely relaxed,” Max said, sinking back into his chair with a lazy smirk. “And you, Y/l/n? You feeling relaxed?”

Fucking bastard. Arrogant. Condescending. Infuriating to the bone.

She considered — just briefly — punching him square in the jaw. But no. That would be giving him exactly what he wanted.

She turned and pushed open the door of the paddock like it had personally offended her. The air outside hit her in the face, heavy and humid, but not nearly as suffocating as the tight knot in her throat.

Flashes followed her. So did voices.

Y/n, one more question.

Do you think he did it on purpose?

Y/n, what about the leaked radio message?

She lowered her head and kept walking. Her fists clenched. Every step on the tarmac was an effort not to fall apart.

She was tired.

Tired of being measured by a different standard.

Tired of seeing her achievements questioned.

Tired of him.

Max Verstappen.

The boy she had once shared podiums, fights, and childhood memories with. Now, they shared something far more volatile — a rivalry laced with fire and something she didn’t dare name.

Up on the terrace of Red Bull’s hospitality suite, Max was watching her.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t look away.

They’d argued more times than he could count. Screamed at each other, shoved each other, hated each other. That was normal. That was expected. But there was something about the way she stormed off, fire in her eyes and fury in her stride, that twisted something deep inside him.

It wasn’t guilt.

It wasn’t regret.

It was something else.

Something worse.

He watched her rip off her team hoodie in one angry motion, now only in her black T-shirt, her braid falling over her shoulder like a careless flame.

Y/n — the same girl who had beaten him at karting and spat in his ice cream when they were nine.

Y/n — who now stood closer to the championship than anyone else. Even him.

And for some reason he couldn’t quite explain… that didn’t make him angry.

It made him uneasy.

He looked away, jaw tightening.

Fucking hell. I’m such an idiot, he thought.

He didn’t know if it was for provoking her. Or for looking at her like that.

Down below, Y/n stopped.

She didn’t need to see him to know he was watching. She could feel it — like heat crawling up her spine. Slowly, she turned her head.

Their eyes met.

One second.

One impossibly long second.

A second that ached.

A second that burned.

He’s such an idiot, she thought.

She hated him for it. And she hated herself for not being able to stop looking.

Max took a step back, as if he’d just crossed some unspoken line.

Y/n frowned, just barely. She shook her head, climbed into the waiting car, and shut the door without looking back.

But it was too late.

That second had betrayed them both.

[its-unfair]

WELL... HEY HEY!

hello there! I'm Pupi ☆ 21 yo

I’m really into Formula 1, so I’d love to be your go-to F1 fanfic writer!

I’ll be writing SMAUs, one shots, and full-length fics about current drivers, retired ones, and even F2 drivers!

Feel free to request anything you’d like to read – I hope you enjoy my stories!