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#— ❥ dolly writes blurbs !!
faerieroyal · 2 months
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Can I request a quick comfort blurb with Max Verstappen (or any of the F1 drivers)??
I’m just going through a lot recently and not in the best place emotionally that I would just love cuddles and comfort from my vroom vroom boys…
- 🦖
of course, anon, i would be more than happy to do that for you. i hope this comes in time to make you feel better, and please know that i am sending you all the cuddles and comfort along with maxy boy <3
( warnings: mentions of dehydration, mentions of food and eating )
. . . ✧ . . .
“schatje?”
the voice, familiar and concerned, comes from somewhere outside your safe cocoon of blankets. you don’t really respond, just let out a small whine and burrow deeper into the sheets - a childish move, maybe, but you aren’t in the right headspace to try and be mature right now.
“babe?” max speaks again, and you hear the slight creek of him sitting down on the end of the bed. “are you alright? do you feel sick?”
you really don’t want to answer him; you’re not really sure if you have the energy for it, upset and wrung-out as you feel right now. but he sounds so worried, so obviously wanting to know if you’re alright that it actually makes a few tears well along your lash line. so despite the effort it takes, you pry your mouth open and answer him, wincing internally at how crackly and broken your voice sounds due to all the crying you’ve done and how little water you’ve had today.
“not sick,” you rasp out, hoping your voice is loud enough for him to hear since you’re not sure you’d be able to speak much louder. “just don’t feel very good. last couple of days have sucked.”
there’s a moment of silence, and you’ve just started to worry that max hasn’t heard you after all when the bed creaks again and you can hear him moving further up the bed, until you can hear him stop right beside the lump of blankets that makes up you at the moment.
after another second, the blanket covering your face gets gently pulled away. you wince at the sudden light from the bedroom, but max only pulls it back enough to reveal his face, scrunched up in that way it always is when he’s worrying as he looks down at you with a concerned frown and soft eyes.
“i’m really sorry you’re not doing so well, schatje,” he says quietly, in such a genuine tone that you very nearly tear up again. “is there anything i do?”
“cuddles?” you nearly plead, wincing a bit again at how much like a begging child you sound. “i just… i just want you.”
your boyfriend nods, some of the worry on his face already giving way to determination - he’s always a lot calmer when he has something to do, a mission to complete, and he can focus completely on carrying it out. it’s one of the things you love most about him.
“okay,” he says decisively. “i’ll go get you some water first, and a snack - you should really have water if you’ve been crying, and even if you’re not hungry the food can be for later if you want it. and then when i get back we’ll cuddle for as long as you want, alright?”
you don’t have the energy to talk any more, but you do nod, hoping that one movement is able to translate just how grateful you are for this man, for your boyfriend who is so sweet despite what the media keeps making him out to be, who always takes care of you and would do anything for you.
max pauses to place a soft, warm kiss on your forehead before he gets up and leaves the bedroom, even being so considerate as to leave the door open so that you can hear him moving around the kitchen. and as you listen to the faucet running as he gets you your glass of water and the cupboard doors opening and closing, you’re reminded, as you so often are when max is around, that you have been so lucky as to date a man who absolutely adores you, who takes care of you and who loves you even on your worst days and who always looks at you like you’re the most amazing thing he’s ever seen, even puffy-eyed and ragged like you look now.
and as always when you’re reminded of this, you feel so amazingly, beautifully grateful for it.
. . . ✧ . . .
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