f1 oneshots

(A) Max Verstappen (1)

You've made it to my first one shot of this book! I hope you have fun, please watch out, i'll give a TW here 🫶 TW: heavy Angst, sh, mental health issues, sh scars

Y/N was sitting in her bed, leaning against the wooden headrest of it. It was a quite comfortable bed, though it was uncomfortable at the same time. She was alone in her bedroom, the one she had shared with her boyfriend, Max Verstappen. It was around 2 in the morning for her, though she wasn't able to stay asleep without the comfort of her beloved. Her heart was aching for him, his presence, his comfort. She was happy for him, he was out there, having fun as he was racing. Right now, he was probably on the track, where his heart truly belonged. Though, she couldn't help but feel a sharp pain in her chest. No matter how happy she was for her boyfriend, deep down she was not whole without him by her side. She felt bad, she didn't want to hold him back. She didn't want to be clingy either. But she needed someone, and that someone was him.

Her mental health always hasn't been the best. She grew up in a family that didn't always appreciate her and her effort. That changed when she met Max. The house Y/N had grown up in, wasn't something she liked to call a home. But when she was with him, she was at peace. He was her home, her safe place, her comfort. And she needed that right now. She was frustrated, having flashbacks from the people she had to call family, the house she was forced to call home. She wasn't able to talk about the things that went down in there. She was too scared. Scared of what the person would think of her she had told. Scared of what her parents, or more likely her father would do if he found out.

She remembers when she was a kid, 11 years old. She was sitting on the swing, which was in the garden of her grandparents home. Suddenly, her father stormed towards her. She felt uneasy as she watched him stomp in her way, almost feeling scared of him. He didn't hit her, he wouldn't dare. But she was so scared that he would. She didn't know what he was capable of, and that was terrifying. As a 11 year old, you wouldn't be able to fight an adult.

"What the fuck is this?!" Her father asked her angrily as he reached her, talking in german, as it was her native language. Before Y/N could even say anything, he grabbed her leg, shoving her pants up so he could see her calves. Y/N gasped as he revealed all her scars, most of them from a few days ago. Just as she was about to explain herself, trying to convince him it wasn't what he thought it was, he started yelling at her.

Tears started rolling down the little girls face, as she sobbed and sobbed, hoping her father would calm down and comfort her, telling it would be alright and that he was her for her, that she wouldn't have to do this to herself and he'd get her help. But all he did was give her angry looks, yelling at her, saying that if anyone else saw, he would get in trouble. That people would be able to sue him, if they found out.

She was barely able to get air from all her crying, hoping he'd stop screaming and calm down. All he ever thought about was him, he was so selfish. She was the one that needed help, why was he worried about himself?

Y/N sobbed in the bed she'd share with her lover, crying, no, bawling her eyes out. She still remembers what he said to her before making her promise she'd never do that again. "If i see one more scar like this on your body, i will strip you to the very last piece of clothing everyday so i know you're not doing this again." His voice clanged through Y/Ns head.

"Please.." she cried, her words soft and muffled. She needed someone. She needed someone to hug her and tell her it's going to be okay. She needed someone she could trust, eventually someone to tell everything that happened in her past. But that wouldn't happen. And she knew that.