#cami

Safe with you

It was the first race of the new season, and the paddock was already buzzing by the time Max and Yn arrived. Cameras clicked, fans waved, team members shouted greetings across garages—but all of it faded slightly as Max stepped out of the car and rounded it swiftly to open the door for Yn.

“Come on, liefje,” he said, hand already extended. “You ready?”

Yn nodded, offering him a soft smile as she took his hand and stepped out. She looked as she always did—graceful, elegant, a bit reserved. The type of presence that drew people in without needing to raise her voice. Her black sunglasses were perched perfectly on her nose, shielding her beautiful eyes from the chaos around her.

Max didn’t let go of her hand. He never did.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” he whispered, leaning close. “We can go straight to hospitality.”

“I’m okay,” she whispered back, squeezing his fingers gently. “I like watching you work.”

He smiled, just slightly. “You like watching me boss everyone around?”

She smirked. “A little bit.”

As they started walking through the paddock, heads turned. Of course they did. Max, the reigning world champion, always drew attention. But lately, it was Yn who had caught the quiet affection of the paddock. She wasn’t loud. She wasn’t flashy. She didn’t post everything online or party until dawn. But she was steady, present. She remembered birthdays. She brought homemade cookies to the engineers. She always looked people in the eye when she thanked them.

And Max—well, Max was famously, visibly obsessed with her.

He never tried to hide it. Not once.

“Max!” someone called. It was Daniel, who was visiting the paddock, leaning against the McLaren wall with a coffee cup in hand. “Mate, you’re late!”

Max laughed and led Yn toward him. “I’m not late. You’re just too early.”

“I’m always early when I hear there’s a chance of seeing your girlfriend,” Daniel grinned, eyes already on Yn. “Hey, angel. You look beautiful today.”

Yn blushed, tugging lightly on Max’s sleeve before offering Daniel a shy smile. “Hi, Daniel.”

“Aw, don’t go hiding behind Max like that,” Daniel teased gently. “We’ve known each other for six years. I think that gives me friend privileges.”

“I’m not hiding,” she murmured. “I’m just standing where it’s safe.”

Max turned and raised a brow at her. “Are you saying I’m your shield?”

“Yes.”

Daniel burst out laughing. “That is the most accurate description I’ve ever heard. You should put that on a T-shirt. ‘Max Verstappen: Human Shield.’”

“I’d wear it proudly,” Max said, slipping his arm around her waist. “Anyway, we’ll see you later. I’ve got a briefing.”

Yn waved lightly at Daniel as Max led her away. As always, Max kept one eye on her while greeting others, making sure she was never overwhelmed, never too close to the media, never cornered by someone too chatty. It wasn’t that Yn was antisocial—far from it. She could hold a conversation with anyone. But it was always clear when she started getting tired. And Max? He knew the signs better than anyone.

They reached the Red Bull hospitality building, and Max opened the door for her before nodding to the team’s head of PR.

“She’ll be inside,” Max told him quietly. “No press today. She’s not feeling it.”

Yn gave him a look. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to,” he said with a small smile. “I know you.”

She rolled her eyes, fondly. “You’re too much sometimes.”

“And yet, you’re still with me.”

“I must be mad.”

“Six years of madness,” he agreed.

Inside, Yn settled on the couch near the back where it was quiet, while Max went off to his meetings. She liked this part of race weekends—being close but not in the way, reading her book or sipping tea while the world raced around her. The team passed by, nodding and smiling. A few stopped to talk.

“Yn! I made those cookies you liked again,” one of the engineers said, holding up a small paper bag. “Left them in the kitchen. There’s white chocolate chip this time.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, clearly touched.

“You bring him luck, you know,” the engineer added. “He’s calmer when you’re here.”

“I doubt that,” she laughed.

“No, really. Ask anyone.”

---

Later that afternoon, the paddock got louder as more drivers arrived and media started gathering. Max returned after his briefing and found Yn exactly where he’d left her, now chatting with Lando.

“She’s turning social on me,” Max joked, walking up with a teasing grin. “Should I be worried?”

Lando grinned. “Nah, she’s just being polite. I’ve been doing all the talking.”

Yn looked up at Max. “He’s been telling me about his sim setup.”

Max groaned. “He’ll talk your ears off. Come on, you need protection.”

“From Lando?” she asked, amused.

“From Lando’s voice,” Max replied, already holding out his hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Bye, Lando,” she said sweetly, following Max again.

As they walked, Max noticed the way her grip on his hand tightened slightly when the press started to gather. He leaned close to her ear.

“Want me to block them off?”

She shook her head. “It’s okay.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve got you,” she said. “I’m fine.”

He smiled again, that same look he always gave her—like she was the only person in the world.

They passed a group of photographers. One tried to get closer, calling out for a photo of the two of them. Max stopped.

“She doesn’t want pictures right now,” he said firmly.

“No worries, just one—”

“I said no.”

The tone was calm, but unmistakably final. The photographer backed off, and Max guided Yn toward the garages.

She looked up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did.”

“You’re too protective sometimes.”

“I’ll never apologize for keeping you comfortable,” he said simply. “You deserve to feel safe.”

There was a pause before she spoke again. “Thank you.”

He leaned down and kissed her temple. “Always.”

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings, media, team briefings, and garage prep. Yn stayed close but not intrusive, always just nearby. Max checked in every hour. Made sure she had water. Made sure she ate. Made sure no one talked her ear off.

At one point, Pierre walked by and spotted them sitting on a bench near the paddock fountain. Max had one arm slung over the backrest, legs stretched out like he owned the place, while Yn was sitting quietly beside him, her head on his shoulder.

“Well, well, well,” Pierre said, stepping into view. “If it isn’t the power couple.”

Yn lifted her head. “Hi, Pierre.”

“Hi, gorgeous. You look like you just stepped out of a Vogue spread.”

“She always does,” Max said proudly.

Pierre smirked. “You’re still the biggest simp in the paddock.”

“Not ashamed,” Max shrugged. “What’s your point?”

Pierre turned to Yn. “Does it ever get annoying?”

“No,” she said with a little smile. “I like that he loves me loudly.”

Max grinned and pulled her closer. “See? She gets it.”

Pierre chuckled. “Alright, alright. You win. I’m off to steal snacks from hospitality.”

As he left, Max looked at Yn. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

🐦🧊⛲️🌊🐦🧊⛲️🌊🐦🧊⛲️🌊🐦🧊⛲️🌊🐦🧊

Hello my lovely reader. I hope you all enjoyed this piece of work. Let me know what you think and send some requests.

he gotta think abt that for a while give him time + bonus panel

i audibly gulped reading this. cami. please. i think im abt to cry and explode.

dare i say he's got u on the phone while he's jerking off...and pretending he's not...he just wants to hear u talk bc he's so fucking hard and he feels a little guilty about having that magazine...so he'd rather do it while ur talking to him...and ur so naive and innocent you don't even know the way his breath hitches...god. him going "mhm, yeah baby?" when u talk abt how hard ur day was and ur starting to whine while complaining but it's only making him fuck his fist harder.....