#north american bird of the day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

coff33andb00ks · 4 months

Text

Rule Breaker - Pt 2

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, reader y/nsplains, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, logan tries to flirt, y/n's bestie is a tumblr girlie at heart, kiddo steals the show Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 6833 auth.note: thank you all so much for the love for part 1!!! ily all and i'm having so much fun writing this

The paddock was relatively quiet so early in the morning. Unable to sleep, y/n had left the hotel and made her way to the track. She was taking the opportunity to explore the settings on the camera and getting her bearings since she didn't have any work duties to complete until later in the day. She had expected Kevin to want to come with her, but he'd opted to sleep in with Ellie, who would bring him to the track later. So she wandered, exchanging the occasional greeting with others. Stopping to take a photo of a bird perched on the fence in front of pit lane, she backed up, crashing into someone.

"Whoop, s'cuse me, sorry," she said, turning to apologize properly. She recognized the two men by their faces but her mind blanked on their names.

"It's alright, ma'am. Didn't mess up your shot, did we?" His American accent was a happy surprise.

"I don't think so." Smiling, y/n lowered the camera. "My fault, and I'll blame it on being new."

"Marketing?" The other man guessed.

Australian. And suddenly she remembered their names. "Social media. I'm y/n."

"So great to meet you." Logan tipped his head slightly. "Carolina?"

"God, you can take the hick outta Carolina, but you can't take the Carolina outta the hick." He grinned and she laughed. "North Carolina, yeah."

Oscar stared at Logan. "How did you guess that? She just sounds plain American?"

"No, dude, it's the lilt. It's like when George got pissed we couldn't pick up on the different English accents."

"Can he pick up on the different American south accents?" y/n asked.

Logan rolled his eyes. "He knows Brooklyn, Midwest, valley girl, and just south."

"In his defense it's hard to pick out each individual one," Oscar pointed out.

Y/n shrugged. "You've got a point. I sound different from people that grew up just an hour from me."

"Yeah! And I know mine's been butchered from so much time in Europe." Logan nodded.

"You still sound more like home than anyone else I've met."

"I was gonna say the same thing – you sound like home." He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that had her smiling in return.

"And what do I sound like?" Oscar asked with a grin.

"A magical place far, far away," y/n told him. She covertly checked the time and wondered if hospitality had finished setting up so she could get some coffee.

"Hear that? I sound like Star Wars."

"She's using southern charm on you, dude," Logan snorted.

"Well it's working, I'm charmed."

A giggle bubbled up her throat and she let it free, raising her camera and giving them a hopeful look. "Okay?"

"Hang on—" Logan fussed with his hair, and y/n laughed when Oscar reached to help him, then they both had to fuss with Oscar's hair. "Think we're presentable enough?"

She nodded, moving so the sunlight was beside them. She got several photos and thanked them. "I'll send them to y'alls social media teams?"

"You can just send it to me." Logan began patting his pockets for his phone.

"Unbelievable," Oscar muttered under his breath, and y/n barely heard it, giving Logan her number and adding him to her contacts once he'd sent her a text.

"I should get going – Sorry for bumping into you."

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you did."

As she walked away she gave her head a little shake, smiling to herself when she overheard Oscar's grumbling that Logan had flirted with fuckin' Red Bull's social media admin. Something told her to glance back and she did, amused to see Logan watching her. Don't show interest, don't show interest, don't—

He gave a little wave. And she smiled, waving back.

Fuck.

Ducking around the corner, she wandered until she found hospitality, grogginess taking over as she made her way to the back to fix herself coffee. She recognized a couple engineers and mechanics that she'd met in Milton Keyes and greeted them, settling into a corner to drink and look over the pictures she'd gotten.

She was on her second coffee, had uploaded the pictures to her laptop, and was editing the first batch for a short video when the chair across from her was pulled out, taking her shoe with it.

"Sorry," Max said when she yelped, chuckling as he bent to pick up her shoe. "Didn't know you were attached."

"Bad habit I'm afraid." Taking the shoe, she shifted to put it back on. "Picked it up when I was pregnant now I do it without thinking."

"For the swelling?" he asked, sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah." After tying the shoelace she shifted, tucking one foot beneath her. "Good morning, by the way."

"Morning. Already working?"

"I'm gonna do a short photo tour of the track. I got some nice shots."

"You walked the track?"

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so… It's beautiful first thing in the morning."

Max nodded, picking up his coffee again. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Max, you should know that hotel beds suck. Especially with a three year old sleeping sideways and a snoring friend in the other bed. Is this where you tell me you slept great?"

"Haha, no. My sleep was shit but it wasn't because of the bed. I didn't get enough." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I was up late sim racing."

"Okay, explain sim racing to me," she requested, slipping one earbud in so she could check that the music she'd selected went well with the photos. Tweaking it as he began to talk, she realized she was barely paying attention to her work, exporting and posting the video to all the platforms then closing her laptop to focus on him. He talked with his hands. It was something she'd picked up on already, that if he was focused on the topic he used his hands. Maxplaining the fans called it. Finishing her coffee, she listened intently, propping her chin on one hand.

He smiled, almost shyly, as he finished. "It's something I truly enjoy. I'm not very sociable. I like going out once in a while, but I prefer to stay in, yeah? And I can spend hours in the sim without thinking twice."

"I spent the last few days watching a lot of interviews. Not just of you and Checo, but everyone on the grid," y/n said softly. "Leclerc talks about piano and his family, Norris talks about gaming and DJing, and Hamilton has his six hundred side projects."

"Yes?" He didn't look or sound impatient for her to get to the point, and she appreciated that.

"The thing is, they all have passions outside of racing. This – formula one, fastest cars, all that – is a goal, a dream, but they all have something else they love, that they can pursue now." She paused, meeting his eyes. "The only thing I've seen you passionate about is racing."

He blinked once, nodding his head. "Because it is my passion."

Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment. "You're very lucky, Max."

That must have surprised him, because his brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Not everyone is able to be successful following their passion. Being able to do what you love for both a job and hobbies is almost unheard of, yet you're doing it. You break records and win races and yeah you've had a few setbacks but you're still in love with this. And on your off time you're training to be better and studying tracks and you go home and race on your computer." She shook her head in amazement. "You're incredibly lucky, that your passion is not only something you're good at but something you can be immersed in nonstop, and that you haven't lost your love for it."

"I guess I am lucky," he said carefully. "But luck had nothing to do with me getting into formula one."

"I know." She held up her hands, not wanting him to think she thought he was in the position he was purely by chance. "I can't imagine how much work you've done over the years, or how many sacrifices you've had to make. It's just… In my experience, passion doesn't always equal financial stability is what I'm trying to say."

"What's that saying? Do something you love and you never work a day in your life?"

Y/n snorted. "That's bullshit. I love sleeping and yet I still have to work."

That made him laugh and she rolled her eyes, even though she enjoyed the sound. "Surely you love more than sleep."

"I love a lot of things. Maybe that's been my problem all my life. I find things and fall in love with them and when I think hey this might be it something new and shiny comes along and I fall in love with that."

"There's nothing wrong with being passionate about many things," Max said gently.

"That's what I keep telling myself. And yet—"

"Are you saying you don't love your job?"

She froze, a wave of panic rippling through her. "Uhmm… Since it's technically my first day I can't answer that."

"Okay. Do you love your social media?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.

The table which was, suddenly, smaller than she remembered.

"I like engaging others. I like creating conversations and seeing my work appreciated," she finally said.

"You sound like a PR person. Do you love it?" He enunciated each word slowly.

She couldn't say yes. The answer wasn't no, either, because she didn't hate it. "I personally hate it. But you've learned how to make it work for you, yeah? How to word things to spark a conversation among followers? What type of content people appreciate?"

"I like to think so."

"Stop being so unsure of yourself. You study it, right? At your last job when you posted a video and no one liked it what did you do? "

She exhaled harshly. "I compare it to ones that did well and pick it apart to see why it didn't work."

"Why?"

"Why?" she echoed.

"Why did you pick it apart?"

"Because I wanted it to do well," she said slowly.

"And these conversations you want to create, do you join in or sit and watch them happen behind the safety of your screen?" He reached over, gently turning her laptop so he could see the screen.

"I engage. I reply and ask questions to make the viewers want to keep the conversation going."

"Why?"

"Because—" She clicked the mouse, bringing up the comments below the video she'd posted to Instagram. "These comments? Come from people that love this brand – or sport. Some of them are trolls who just want to start up an argument to make their boring lives more interesting for a few minutes, but for the most part it's people who care. People who want to see this team do well. People who had the dream of doing it themselves but life got in the way. People who watched it with their parents and still watch to stay connected to someone they love. It's little kids who want to be like you. It's people who spend their hard earned money on a t-shirt or a hat or a ticket to see someone they admire live out their dream." She took a quick breath, scrolling through the comments. "If I don't like or respond to them, they feel like their opinions don't matter. And maybe they don't in the grand scheme of formula one. But they want to be seen and heard. When I click and they see that Red Bull Racing liked their comment or replied with an emoji or whatever, they have a few seconds of elation, and their support of this team is cemented just a bit more."

Max blinked at her, and she continued even though she heard him draw a breath to speak.

"I know very well how horrible social media can be. However, I've seen how it fosters growth for a company. You're not stupid, I'm sure you've seen how TikTok challenges or Instagram livestreams have brought in more support. Not to mention money. If a post of you wearing your Red Bull shirt gets a million likes, I can probably pull the data and show you that a hundred thousand people went to view the shirt on the official shop and probably twenty-five thousand ordered one. A silly picture of you arriving for race day or a new helmet design pulls people in and gets them excited. And, yes, it makes money. Which in turn pays the salaries of everyone on the team."

"Y/n."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm—"

"Passionate," he whispered before she could say sorry.

"I know what it's like to enjoy something and never feel included," she murmured. "So, yeah… I guess I love what I do, because I like that I can include people in something they love."

His hand covered hers briefly. "For a moment there, I even loved social media."

She watched his fingers squeeze hers before they slid away, wondering why his touch lingered. "Yeah?"

"It's easy to forget that there are real people saying nice things. Sometimes all you can see is the negativity."

"Negativity only breeds more negativity—"

"And when you look at it, it's all you'll see," he murmured.

"Well… So far everything I've posted today has been met with positivity."

"That's good."

"Okay, a few comments about wanting to see Lando on the podium. Thank you for letting me rant about why I do what I do," she said, glancing at his hand without meaning to.

"You let me do the same," he reminded her. Lifting his chin, he waited until she looked at him again. "Are you too busy to see what I was talking about?"

"I don't have anything scheduled until after lunch."

"Perfect." He lightly drummed on the table and stood. "Do you want to see my rig?"

"You do know I won't have a clue what anything but the computer and monitor are, right?" Smiling, she stood and began packing away her stuff.

Closing her laptop, he handed it over, catching her earbud when it fell off the edge of the table. "Maybe you'll like it so much you'll want one of your own."

*-*

He was rambling, he knew he was, telling her about the setup and his plan for the 24 hour race over the weekend and how he had everything scheduled so he could do two of the things he loved most. But he could tell she was paying attention, actually listening, as if she really cared. Rubbing his palms against his thighs, he finished and looked up at her.

"So this is your actual job and the f1 thing is just a hobby?" she teased.

Laughing, he got to his feet and got himself a can of Red Bull. "It's just racing, y/n."

"And racing is life."

"Absolutely." He watched her muffle a yawn behind her hand.

"Am I allowed to mention it in my posts? Because it sounds so badass. Sim race stint then qualifying, chug a Red Bull, sim race stint then race."

"You can mention it, not like it's a secret." He watched her hide another yawn and cleared his throat. "Looks like you need a Red Bull."

She shook her head. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Nodding, he checked the time. Just over an hour before he had to meet with his trainer. "Of course."

"I hate Red Bull," she whispered.

He choked on a laugh. "You what?"

"I've tried so many times! I can just about stomach one of the flavored editions, but the original? Tastes like battery acid to me." She looked embarrassed and covered her face with her hands. "Please don't tell anyone."

"You hate the drink. So you accepted a job with a team owned by the drink company." He wanted to laugh. It was so absurd to him.

"Yes," she groaned.

"That would be like me taking a job at Instagram."

"I know it's so bad. What makes it worse is I love Monster—"

"Of course you do," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Please say you won't tell anyone. If corporate hears, I'll probably get fired. It's in my contract that I can only drink that while in pubic during race weekends which means I've got to either stick to water or learn to fake it."

"Your secret's safe with me," Max promised, breathing in the aroma of her perfume as she moved past him to get her bag.

"Thank you. I think Ellie would kill me if I told her I have to find a new job."

He didn't want her to go so soon. Ridiculous because he knew he'd see her in just a few hours. By the end of the weekend he'd be sick of seeing her. Sipping his drink, he finally sighed and cleared his throat. "You can take a power nap."

She whipped her head around, sending a wave of her perfume his way. "What?"

"A power nap." Before he could stop himself he was setting down his drink and taking her bag off her shoulder. "Thirty minutes, and you'll feel great."

"Max—"

"You need to be alert and focused, and I don't have a Monster for you to drink. Please, I insist." He motioned to his bed in the far corner, gently nudging her shoulder when she hesitated.

"You're sure?" she asked softly, and when he assured her he was she bent to take off her shoes, looking almost elated as she walked over to the bed. "Wait, I need to set an alarm."

"I'll wake you."

She lifted an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone to set a thirty minute timer. Satisfied, she sat on the edge of the bed, thanking him several times as she laid down and curled up on her side. "Thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes," he murmured, sitting on the couch to answer emails. It was fifteen minutes before she stopped shifting and kicking, and when he heard her breathing even out he knew she was asleep. Resetting the timer, he stood and carefully pulled the blanket over her, then returned to the couch and tried his best to ignore that she was sleeping in his room.

Her phone started buzzing on the table. She didn't stir so he ignored it, focusing on his email. That was impossible though so he cleared out his unread texts, one foot bouncing each time he heard her breathe. A mistake. It had been a mistake. He jumped up when her phone began to buzz again and, glancing from it to her, he realized she would undoubtedly sleep through it. He picked it up and was about to silence it when he saw the name on the screen. Ellie. That was her friend that was helping with Kevin… Something could be wrong, so he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, we just— Who's this?"

"Max. This is Ellie?"

"…Yes…" The woman sounded wary. "Why are you – Oh! Max! Right of course. Um, is y/n okay?"

Max looked over at her, smiling faintly when she shifted. "She's fine. Taking a nap, actually."

Ellie snorted. "Of course she is."

"Is everything okay with Kevin?"

As though aware of the question, Kevin began chattering in the background. "Yeah, he's perfect. I was calling to let her know we just got here but I ain't got a clue where to go."

"Are you at the main entrance?" he asked, slipping out of the room so he wouldn't wake y/n. Ellie told him where they were and he nodded as he pulled out his own phone to text one of the team assistants. "You're going to walk down to the turnstiles, scan your passes and come through. Someone will be there to meet you and bring you to the motorhome."

"Ok perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. We'll be downstairs to meet you." Ending the call, he checked that the assistant was going to meet them then reentered his room. He closed the door and silenced his timer. "Y/n?"

She hummed in her sleep, and he smiled while he crossed over to the bed.

"Y/n," he called gently. She groaned, shifting to face away from him and it suddenly occurred to him that when he went to bed that night he would smell her on the pillow and the sheets. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, but it was too late now.

Would he be an asshole if he had his sheets changed before the end of the day?

Leaning down, he gently touched her shoulder. She inhaled sharply and he saw her eyes snap open. "You have company on its way," he said softly, tugging the covers back in case she tried to get comfortable again. His eyes swept down, locking on the skin bared by her shirt, which had ridden up in her sleep. "Come on, you had a nice nap, time to wake up."

"This bed is so much more comfortable than the one at the hotel," she mumbled, slowly sitting up and turning to face him. Smoothing down her shirt, she stretched and sighed, blinking as she focused on him. "Oh! Ellie and Kevin!"

He laughed as she leapt to her feet, his hands immediately moving to steady her. "It's fine, they haven't even made it to the paddock yet. I've sent someone to meet them."

"Oh," she murmured. "Thank you."

His hands were on her hips, and he forced his breathing to remain calm as she rested her hands on his forearms. The space, which had felt roomy and open, now felt tiny with how close she was to him. He was painfully aware of the scant space between them and each place their bodies touched, but more so of her. That heady floral scent of her perfume and the softness of her palms against his skin. The gentle lushness of her hips. He could hear every breath as his gaze traveled up from her hands to her face, lingering on her slightly parted lips before settling on her eyes. "You good?"

"Yep."

"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, releasing her hips and taking a step back. "I'll get your shoes."

What was wrong with him? It hadn't been so long that he got turned on like a teenager just from touching a woman… As he bent to retrieve her shoes he counted back, dragging a hand over his face in humiliation. What must she think of him? He'd brought her to his room, showed off his fancy toys, then let her sleep in his bed. She probably thought he wanted to fuck her—

You do.

—which couldn't be further from the truth. He was just being nice. Because she was nice. That was all.

Wasn't it?

And why, he wondered as he handed her shoes to her and told her about answering Ellie's call, did he care what she thought? Not caring was his specialty.

"How do you feel?" he asked, finishing his drink in one gulp.

"Refreshed. Thank you so much, Max." She tied her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair. Her lips moved but he didn't hear a word she said, watching her gather her hair and twist and twirl it, securing it with a band from her wrist.

Witchcraft.

"That okay with you?" she asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.

"Of course," he answered automatically.

She clapped her hands together. "Great! I'll put up a post asking for fan questions."

Max blinked, pinching his brows together. "Fan questions."

"Well we can't do an impromptu Q and A without questions." She had her other phone out now, fingers flying across the screen. "We'll do it this afternoon? Just let me know the best time."

Fuck's sake. What had he agreed to? More importantly, how had she gotten him to say yes? Everyone knew he had a low tolerance for marketing. He could take it back and say no, he couldn't do it today. He could tell her to get Checo to do it, that he would do it another time. He'd gotten out of marketing and social media stupidity without a problem plenty of times before. But he was already opening his calendar, going over his schedule, already telling her the open slot he had at 5, and was already putting Q and A with Y/n in that space.

"Perfect," she enthused, shouldering her bag and heading for the door, her fingers still tapping swiftly on the screen. "They should be here about now, right?"

Nodding, he followed her out the room and down, smiling when Kevin came through the front door with a woman he assumed was Ellie. The boy dropped her hand and sprinted over to y/n, who dropped down to hug him tightly. Max looked on, chest squeezing, searching for something that had been lacking, as mother and son talked and hugged, their words overlapping. They both understood each other perfectly, though, and he smiled at Kevin's excited retelling of what he'd had for breakfast. Introducing himself to Ellie, he reached to shake her hand.

"Mister Max!" The boy squealed.

"Kevin!" He was down in a split second, Ellie forgotten and chest constricting tighter as Kevin hugged him like a long lost friend.

"I saw two cats and a horse!" Kevin tugged at his shirt, grinning as he showed off his Red Bull merch.

"You did? What kind of cats?" he asked, taking the boy's cap and beginning to roll the brim for him while the boy described the cats and then the horse. Returning the cap, he enthused over animals, telling him about his own two cats and pulling out his phone to show him a few pictures.

"I miss Cotton," Kevin said with a small pout.

"Is that your cat?" Max saw his trainer approaching and gave him a quick nod.

"Yeah. We can't bring him to Eng-a-lund so Aunt Ellie's sister has him." Kevin's pout melted into a faint smile. "But she sends lots of pictures!"

"That's good. And maybe you'll be able to get him soon."

"Mama says it's s'pensive." The boy sighed as though he had to earn the money to bring his beloved cat to England.

"I know," Max sympathized. "Go with your mum, yeah? I've got to go train."

Kevin's face puckered in confusion. "Train? Like Shang?"

Y/n cleared her throat. "We watched Mulan on the flight last night."

"What did Shang do?" Max vaguely remembered the movie, but it had been years since he'd seen it.

"He made a man out of 'em."

"Okay, doodle bug, we have to let Max get his workout in," y/n said, flashing Max a smile. "If you ask another question he'll start singing the song."

Max stared at her then turned his attention back to Kevin. "What song?"

Because he had to. Because hearing her groan as her son began singing a song about being a man was priceless. And the dramatic way she hung her head when Ellie joined in made him laugh. Kevin giggled, cutting off his singing and looking at Max hopefully. "Will you watch it with me?"

"I—"

"Mister Max is too busy to watch a movie," y/n cut in.

"We'll watch it this weekend," Max promised, hating the sadness in the boy's eyes. Relieved when it disappeared in a flash, he gave him a high five and stood.

"Yay!"

He exchanged a look with y/n, who sighed and nodded, reaching for Kevin's hand. "I'll see you later," he said.

"5 o'clock," she reminded him as he headed out.

*-*

"So…"

Y/n groaned at Ellie's knowing tone. Watching as Kevin was snatched up by Lando so he wasn't crashed into by Charles in the impromptu game of football, she folded her arms over her chest. "So?"

"He had coffee with you."

God, here we go.

"Showed you his private room and his expensive computer setup… Let you take a nap in his bed—"

"He's just being nice," y/n insisted.

"And he's gonna take time out of his ridiculously busy weekend to watch a movie with Kevin." Ellie hummed, taking a sip of her tea.

Ignoring her, y/n looked on as Lando, Oscar, and Logan pretended to fight back the others while Kevin kicked the ball towards the goal. They were all shouting, dramatic and over the top, and above it all she heard the sweetest sound of her son's laughter. When the ball rolled into the net there was a roar that rivaled a championship game, and she joined in the cheering and applauding.

"You could do worse," Ellie murmured.

"Would you stop?" Y/n rolled her eyes, giving Logan a thumbs up when he gestured to the football and Kevin, understanding they wanted to have another quick game.

"He's cute."

"They all are," y/n muttered without thinking, lifting her camera for a few photos for her personal collection. Recognizing Checo when he suddenly appeared in the viewfinder, she snapped more photos, lowering the camera to watch.

"You know—"

"I can't wait for you to start your job so I can come and try to partner you up with a coworker," she huffed, snorting when Ellie gasped.

"You wouldn't."

"In a heartbeat."

"Besides, there's only one person in that group that's technically your coworker," Ellie said.

"I'm not here for that."

"I know." Ellie leaned against her briefly. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't encourage a delusion, though."

"Yeah…" Y/n laughed softly. "It's my first day, of course everyone's already in love with me."

"Exactly."

It was what she loved about Ellie. No matter what, she could make her laugh. Grinning, she watched Kevin bump into Oscar, who immediately collapsed with an exaggerated howl of pain, holding the leg that Kevin hadn't touched. "And they're all so good with kids."

"Total dad material, every one of them," Ellie agreed. "Not a stepdad, a dad who stepped up."

She choked on a laugh, playfully swatting her friend's arm. Because she knew Logan had overheard them. "Stop—"

"And probably more than willing to crack your back—"

"Oh my god." Clapping a hand over her face, she sensed someone approaching. "I have to work with these people."

"Only until they fuck a baby into you."

"Hey, y/n, your kid's so cool," Logan said.

Her face burned but she slowly pulled her hand away, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks."

He propped his hands on his waist, breathing heavy as he watched Kevin dart between Lando, Oscar, Checo, and Alex. "He always this energetic?"

"Fify-fifty. He's either like this or so quiet I worry he's up to something."

Logan chuckled. "Is he a troublemaker?"

"Nah, if he's quiet it's because he's focused on his cars or studying a bug."

"Christ! Get it away from me!"

Y/n's heart lurched at the sudden shriek from Lando, and she barely saw him sprinting away from her son, who was holding something in his hands.

"It's a frog, mate!" Oscar shouted behind him.

"Don't care!"

Kevin slowly walked over to y/n. "Mama, look!" he said, eyes shining with excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed from the hard play and he was giggling. "Mister Lando scared of a l'il frog."

"He's just not a country boy like you, honey," she soothed. "But maybe we should put the frog somewhere he'll be safe?"

"C'mon, Kev, I'll help you," Logan offered.

"Hmm," Ellie hummed once Logan had scooped Kevin up, cupping one hand over the boy's to keep the frog from jumping away.

"Shut it."

"I didn't say a word."

"Please, that hmm contained at least two paragraphs, ten innuendoes, and a pointed reference," y/n said, trailing behind Logan. Looking on as he set Kevin down near the tree line, she got a few pictures of them releasing the frog. She cringed when her son wiped his dirty hands on his shorts but Logan didn't seem to mind, lifting him up and carrying him back to her.

"He's free!" Kevin squealed. "Thanks, Mister Logan."

"Anytime, Kev." He tousled his curly hair after setting him down, flashing a shy smile at y/n.

She returned the smile, eyes following Kevin as he ran back to the game. "He's gonna pass out as soon as we get back to the hotel."

"He could probably run circles around all of us all night," Logan chuckled.

"True…"

"So like…" He cleared his throat. "Are you married?"

God, she loved Floridians. "No," she answered, turning to look at him. "Are you?"

"God no." He made a face at the thought. "So you're single?"

She nodded, already formulating how she would turn him down if he asked her out. She was too busy. Not interested in anything romantic at the moment. It never hurt to be honest, right? She couldn't lie and say she just had a messy breakup or—

"Would you be interested in – I'm not trying to hook up or anything," he said quickly when she opened her mouth. "Just, like, as a friend? I know how it is to feel like a fish out of water here. I'm kind of used to it but I can remember feeling like I was alone and surrounded by people who didn't understand my Americanisms."

"Oh." Aw. Damn it, she couldn't say no to that. "I… Yeah, sure, I'd like that."

He smiled. "Awesome. Maybe we can do something tomorrow after practice?" he suggested.

"Sure, sounds great. Text me?" she requested. Her phone alarm started going off and she pulled it out to silence it. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."

She waved to Ellie and mimed that she had to get some work done, waiting for her friend to wave back before making her way to the garage. While walking she got a message from one of the mechanics that the cars were photo ready and quickened her pace, envisioning the photos she would get of the mechanics and engineers. As she worked she asked questions, truly interested in what everyone did, a small idea forming that she'd run by Mr. Horner later. She knew that she would enjoy mini profiles on the team, with just the most basic of information like their names and where they were from. Maybe how long they'd been on the team, what had brought them to formula one…

"Thanks so much guys," she said as she finished up, declining the offer of a cold Red Bull. Her alarm went off again – twenty minutes to get ready to meet Max in the lounge back at the motorhome – and she switched off the camera, waving bye and turning to leave the garage.

She slammed into a human wall, grunting in surprise as she stumbled back. Twice in one day, really? The bump had caused the camera to slam against her ribs and she rubbed the spot gently. "I'm sorry! Wasn't looking where I was going."

She expected a chuckle, a reassurance that it was a hazard of the job. Maybe even an apology in return. Instead, the older man sneered at her, looking her up and down in such a way she felt like a child caught misbehaving. "You need to learn your place."

She gulped, fear prickling through her embarrassment. And even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, she found her mouth opening to apologize. "S-sorry."

"Horner know better than to hire amateurs," he muttered, scoffing. "He obviously didn't hire you for your looks."

She bristled at that. "I beg your pardon?"

"As you should." He brushed past her.

She felt weak. Clammy and cold. Shuddering slightly, she swallowed hard and left the garage, heading straight for the motorhome, where she was able to catch her breath. Who the hell had that been? He'd been wearing a Red Bull pass, so he had to be on the team. He was obviously important. She couldn't imagine him being considered her boss, not when everyone else had been so nice and—

"Ah, y/n, are you ready to do the Q and A?" Max asked.

Y/n felt her lungs burn and sucked in a breath, staring at the cup of coffee she'd made herself. "Y-yeah, I'll meet you up on the deck?"

Please go up, please go up, please go—

"What's wrong?"

Goddammit.

"Y/n?" He looked and sounded concerned, and she ducked her head as he walked over. "Hey…"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"You're a terrible liar," he said, leaning against the counter. "What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm just overreacting." Rubbing her hand over her face, she shook her head and reached for the coffee. "Just a run-in with an asshole."

"But I haven't seen you in three hours." Max's lips barely twitched at the corner.

"Not you, a different asshole." She felt her cheeks burn and groaned. "I'm not saying you're an asshole!"

"You don't have to, I already know I can be an asshole at times." Folding his arms over his chest, he met her eyes. "Who was it?"

"That's the thing, I don't even know. I was coming out of the garage – You know, I went down to get pics of the mechanics? Anyway, I was about to text you about the Q and A and wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into him."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Older, kinda tall? Sour faced." She raised a hand to the man's approximate height. "I apologized and he told me I need to learn my place, then said I was an amateur and Horner obviously didn't hire me for my looks – I didn't ask his name because I was in shock. All I know is he had a Red Bull pass."

Max's brow furrowed, and she felt him tense. Then, to her surprise, he described the man perfectly.

"Yeah, that's him." She bit her lip. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered. "It's my dad."

"Oh." Y/n looked down at her coffee. "Sorry."

"Me too." He sighed, pushing away from the counter. "Don't listen to him, yeah? You have more right to be here than he does, and you're not an amateur. As much as I hate social media, even I can tell that you're excellent at your job."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I've spent my entire adult life working to improve myself and discover my own worth as a human being, and I can give other women empowering pep talks, but I still freeze when a man that thinks he's better than me talks down to me."

"Fuck him," Max said simply. "He's not your boss, he can't control anything you do in your life."

"Either you're really trying to make me feel better or you really don't like your dad," she murmured. When he didn't reply, she slowly lifted her gaze. Seeing the muscle in his jaw twitch, she felt a pang of sympathy. If the man had been that rude to her, a stranger, she couldn't begin to imagine what he'd been like to his own son.

"If he speaks to you like that again, you let me know."

"I don't want to cause a fuss—"

"Not wanting to cause a fuss is why he thinks he can get away with it," Max pointed out. "I'll speak to Christian—"

"Max, no, it's literally my first week!"

"Which is why you have to set boundaries now. He'll either treat you with the respect you deserve or he'll be banned from the paddock."

Y/n blinked in shock. "You'd have him banned?"

"In a heartbeat." The look on his face told her he was serious, from the determined set of his jaw to the way he kept his eyes level with hers. "So either you mention it to Christian in the team meeting or I will."

"God," she groaned, knowing that this had to be just one tiny item among a long list of infractions for Max to want him banned. "Okay. I'll tell him before the team meeting tomorrow."

"Good. Come, let's do the Q and A. You ready?" he asked, taking her empty cup and throwing it away.

"Yeah." Grateful for the distraction, she walked to the stairs with him. "I did a clip of you looking confused and posted it on TikTok and Instagram that went viral because I captioned it When You Ask Max Verstappen About Anything But Racing. Oh and I found out Tumblr fans love making gifs of you laughing. Twitter likes making memes out of your face. Whereas Facebook is mostly a bunch of boomers commenting about how I'm ruining the integrity of the sport."

"I really do hate social media," he snorted.

"And that is why I'm doing social media," she teased. Halfway up the stairs, she slowed, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Max."

"For hating social media? You're welcome."

taglist

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #my writings > mv > rulebreaker

859 notes · View notes