Dear Spa

Clark: 0

Robin: 1

Loved this fic. One of my favourites. ❤

What do you think about a wolff reader being engaged to Charles. And a "Who did this to you" trope, so.etjing bad happened to the reader, or she was mugged or harrased a hurt. We also get protective Charles, Toto and Lewis

All That Matters || CL 16

Warnings: 18+ only, violence, blood, reader injuries, medical procedures WC: 5.7k

F1 Masterlist

The line to the ladies room was longer than you expected when you told your step-mother that you would catch up. Susie had given you a quick wave, not wanting to miss out on the qualifying races, and departed without you. While you waited, you had pulled out your phone and busied yourself with a few replies of well-wishes from friends before going on Instagram and liking all the photos of Charles that you had missed earlier. 

One particular photo brought a smile to your face as you knew exactly who he was looking at off camera. You were wearing Mercedes merch for quali and planning to wear Ferrari for race day, so his team had avoided taking photos of the two of you until tomorrow. That didn’t mean your own camera roll wasn’t bursting with pictures of the contrasting black and red team colours. You were so consumed in the pictures of your fiancé that you didn’t hear the door open behind you. 

A shoulder bumped into you and your phone clattered to the ground before a heel quickly stomped on it, shattering the screen. What you had thought was an accident suddenly turned into an attack and the other women waiting in line screamed at the man and pushed each other away to reach the door. 

You couldn’t comprehend what was happening as you were thrown to the ground, pain lacerating your stomach from the kick you received as you went down. You tried to crawl away but a boot planted down on your back pinning you in place as you screamed for help despite the pain it caused. 

You reached out, your fingers clawing the dirty floor as you tried to grab your phone before the man stood on your wrist. His joyous laugh sent a wave of nausea through you and he bent down to grab your hand that you fisted tightly.

“No, no, please don’t,” you begged as he pried your fingers open. “I’ll give you anything, I have money, please.”

You screamed as your engagement ring was torn from your finger and you raked his arms with your nails trying to get it back before he closed his fist and sent stars exploding across your vision. Blood smeared across the linoleum floor as you tried to drag yourself after him, the pain of the door closing on your fingers no longer registering in your senseless state. No amount of money could replace what the ring meant to you and you couldn’t just let it go. You were a Wolff, and Wolff’s never give up - your father had instilled the value into you since you were a child.

Pulling yourself up the door, you gasped at the pain in your ribs and clutched the aching bones as you chased after the stranger running through the paddock. The determination was there in your heart and your mind, but it was your body that was failing you as your vision faded and the distance grew. The man was going to get away with taking your prized possession and there was nothing you could do as you crumpled to the concrete and let the darkness take you.

Toto gave his wife a distracted wave as he listened to the engineers discussing the weather with his drivers and he leaned back looking for you behind her. 

“She’s on her way,” Susie said, knowing her husband well as she reached him and massaged his tense shoulders. 

The qualifying round soon ended and Toto laid his headset down with a smile at the decent result. “Where is she?” he asked when he looked around the garage and noticed you still hadn’t arrived.

“She probably stopped in to see Charles, he could do with some cheering up.”

Toto shook his head feeling sorry for the man who would soon be his son-in-law before standing up and stretching his legs while Lewis and George finished the warm down lap and returned to the garage. “Maybe he’ll finally be ready to leave them if they keep ignoring his wise opinion.”

“Hello Toto, Susie,” Charles greeted politely as he walked through the garage, his bright red racing suit standing out among the black and white uniforms. He stopped to shake Toto’s hand and kiss Susie’s cheeks before looking around. “Have you seen Y/N? She’s not answering her phone.”

“I thought she was with you,” your father frowned, pulling his phone out to call you. “Voicemail. Hi sweetheart, give me a call when you get this.”

“Toto, it’s the stewards,” his engineer interrupted with a frown as he held Toto’s headset up for him.

“What do they want?” he growled as he took them and pulled them over his ears. 

“I don’t know, they only mentioned your daughter.”

Charles grabbed the spare headset that Susie usually wore and caught the end of the news. His stomach dropped and his heart beat so loud he could only hear pieces of information. Assault. Unconscious. Hospital. Hurry. He couldn’t stop hearing the words as he tore the headset off and saw the horror and fear reflected in Toto’s eyes. While Toto’s fear stemmed from the love of a father, Charles was that of a soulmate, the one person above all else in the world who he entrusted his heart to. 

“Go,” Toto ordered, knowing Charles was the faster man with youth on his side. “Run!”

Charles broke into a sprint, weaving through the crowds as they left. Stunned fans watched the man who usually stopped to sign autographs and take photos push his way to the exit with tears in his eyes. 

He didn’t stop, not when his breath was raspy or his legs turned weak. He pushed on, fear driving him to run as fast as he could through the city he called home. 

Every slap of his shoes on the pavement jolted through his body and he didn’t even have to think about the route to the hospital as his feet carried him along the familiar streets. He was in a world of his own, trapped in his mind thinking through his afternoon. 

He had sat in his car while it was wheeled into the garage, taking a few minutes to calm himself down after the shit show he had endured. He had bit his tongue and listened to the excuses his engineer waffled on with, preparing his own argument in silence in the meeting room. He wondered if those precious moments of waiting had cost him everything. If only he had got out of the car, if only he had been more assertive, he could’ve found you first.

“Monsieur Leclerc!” a nurse called out the moment he stepped foot in the hospital. For once he was glad almost everyone in the city knew who he was as he was quickly ushered into the emergency room where he heard your soft whimper. 

Harsh lights welcome you back to the land of consciousness and you tried to shade your eyes but the movement caused a bolt of pain to streak up your arm. Your head spun with stars dotting your periphery as you rolled your head to the side weakly to see your wrist hanging limply, the angle making your stomach turn as a whimper passed your lips.

“Mon amour.”

The voice of an angel, that’s what you heard before the privacy curtain was brushed aside and Charles froze as he saw the state of you. You had no idea how bad you looked, everywhere ached, you could taste blood in your mouth and the same red liquid seeped through the gauze that wrapped your hand that was naked of the engagement ring that had split your skin as it was stolen. 

The memory brought tears to your eyes and your lips trembled with a sob that spurred him into action, crossing the room and gingerly taking your right hand. He pressed his lips to your knuckles and the tears he had been holding back broke away, streaking their way down his cheeks.

“Who did this to you?” Anguish tortured his voice, emotion choking his throat as he dropped his head and clutched your hand to his lips like a prayer. “They won’t get away with this, I swear.”

You nodded but the pounding in your head was only exacerbated and you fell back to the pillow with a groan as the nurse finally returned with a team of doctors. You understood why everything hurt as they clipped x-rays to the lightboard and even from the bed you could see bones snapped like twigs. Charles' hand clamped over his mouth with a choked sound and he looked at your stomach as if he could see the broken ribs hidden beneath the bruised skin. 

You were grateful the nurse was there, promising to make you feel better with pain relief, but she took your hand from Charles’ and you missed the warmth of his touch as she prepared the site for an IV. A cool rush ran up your arm as she flushed the line before the dose of morphine left you feeling weightless and you could finally relax as the pain retreated. 

“He stole my ring,” you slurred like you did after too many drinks. “I tried to stop him but he was too strong. I really did, Charles, you have to believe me.”

“I know you did, mon amour, and I’ll get you another one,” he promised as he gently wiped your tears away. “All that matters is you. You are my everything and I love you with or without that ring.”

You smiled as he cupped your face tenderly and gave you the softest of kisses before you whispered against his lips, “I love you too.”

The doctors circled your bed as Charles took a seat beside your head, his fingers softly brushing your cheek as they spoke, but their jargon went in one ear and out the other as you stared at your fiancé. The fluorescent light caught the rarely seen dark red undertones in his hair and the shadows made his jaw even more defined. He really was your angel and when he looked back at you, you got lost in his beautiful eyes.

“Please, do whatever you need to,” he said, but you couldn’t remember what it was about.

You felt like you did when you went scuba diving with Charles in St Tropez, like you were underwater and your body was growing heavier with each passing second as the pressure squeezed your head. The more you tried to focus, the worse you felt and you barely heard Charles call out to the doctors as he saw your eyes starting to close and your jaw falling slack as you slipped out of consciousness again. 

–

Charles hadn’t moved from where he had been told to wait. His elbows had left dents in his knees where he sat forward, ready to spring to his feet at the first sign of news coming from the surgical rooms. The hot sweat from running across the city had long turned cold but he didn’t feel the damp chill from his fireproofs he still wore, all he could feel was the suffocating hopelessness of waiting.

“Where is my daughter?”

Charles jumped at your father’s voice breaking the oppressive silence and he jogged to the administration area at the end of the hall just as the receptionist pointed him to the waiting room. There was nothing Charles could say to ease the suffering in Toto’s eyes as they walked towards each other so the older man just wrapped his arms around him and held him for a moment. 

“Thank you,” Toto said as he pulled back and squeezed Charles' shoulders. “We got here as fast as we could but with the roads closed…any update?”

Charles shook his head. “Not since she went in.”

Charles had called Toto in a panic after you had passed out and the doctors noticed the trickle of blood running down the diamond earrings he had given you for your anniversary. The nurse had escorted him from the room and he had been forced to watch as you were wheeled away from him. He had feared he would never see your smile or hear you tell him you loved him ever again. 

He still feared that.

“They took her for a CT scan before surgery but that’s all they said.” Charles brushed a hand through his hair as more voices filled the hall and he saw Susie arriving with Jack, Lewis, Enzo and Arthur behind her. “Please tell me they found the bastard who did this.”

Toto’s jaw clenched as he shook his head. “Not yet, but there’s a million CCTV cameras - it’s only a matter of time. We’ll get him, son.”

Jack had run along the corridor after seeing his dad and Toto scooped the boy up and closed his eyes as he held him close. Leaving the father and son, Charles met his brothers and accepted the hugs they offered, following Toto’s lead and holding them tighter after being reminded how precious and uncertain each moment was. 

“I brought you some clothes,” Enzo said as opened the bag slung over his back. “Thought you might want to look half decent for her when she wakes up.”

Charles nodded his gratitude and took the bag to the bathroom, locking the door behind him before taking a moment to centre himself like he did at the end of a bad race; inhale, hold, exhale. 

It was as if his body recognised that he wasn’t alone, that his brothers were there when he needed them most and he didn’t have to pretend to be strong anymore. He didn’t even realise tears were freely falling down his cheeks until he saw his reflection in the mirror, eyes red and hair a mess. He was falling apart and he needed you to put him back together.

One minute. Sixty seconds. That was all he allowed himself to cry before he turned the tap to cold and washed away the sweat and tears. Dressed in a pair of jeans and t-shirt with a clean face, he returned to the waiting room and found Joris had also arrived. 

“I don’t understand how this happened, man,” Lewis sighed, his tattooed hand cupping his chin as he stared at a poster on the wall while deep in thought. “It was inside the paddock. She should have been safe. Where was the security? Was it random or did someone target her?”

No one had the answers but they hoped time would tell.

The hours ticked away and Jack eventually fell asleep on Toto’s lap. Other groups of families came and went, Charles’ hopes being dashed each time the doors opened only to find the news wasn’t for them. 

“Maman’s on her way,” Arthur whispered, though there wasn’t a sign to keep quiet, it only seemed appropriate. “Is there anything you need?” Charles looked at his brother, giving him a glimpse into his broken soul that needed good news. “Besides that.”

“Maybe coffee and food?” 

Arthur nodded and went to reply but the doors suddenly opened and there was no other group in the waiting room. 

Jack startled awake as Toto rose to his feet, passing the boy over to Susie before clapping Charles back and leading him forward to meet the doctor half way. 

“Family of Miss Wolff?”

Toto nodded and cleared his throat after hours of tortured silence. “How is she?”

“She’s not out of the woods but she’s strong. The next 24 hours will be critical in her recovery,” the doctor said as everyone gathered around. “We repaired her broken wrist with pins and screws but a broken rib punctured her lung causing it to collapse so she has a chest drain that will remain in place for the next few days. It would appear the same blunt force trauma that broke her ribs also ruptured her spleen so we removed it to stop any further internal bleeding.”

Enzo curled his arm around Charles to stabilise him as he swayed on his feet with the news. But still the doctor wasn’t finished and his already sombre mood turned morose.

“What we are most concerned about is the bleed in her brain and the swelling. We released the pressure but will monitor her closely in the ICU. Miss Wolff is on her way to the ward now so you can see her shortly.” 

“Thank you,” Charles managed to choke out but it was a miracle the nausea he felt didn’t spill all over the doctors shoes. “You have our gratitude.”

He pursed his lips together and nodded with a sad smile. “I‘ll come by in a few hours to check up on her, just head up to the ICU when you’re ready.”

Visiting hours were wrapping up as the group took the elevator to the next floor in silence, they were all consumed by their own thoughts. Their hearts fluttered with hope while prudence choked it back and no one dared to say a word as they entered the quiet ward. Even Jack, the chatterbox, didn’t make a peep as they entered your room.

“Oh, my darling girl,” Toto broke the silence as he fell into the seat beside you and his hand trembled when he couldn’t immediately find a way to hold you. 

Charles could clearly remember the shock of seeing you but this was somehow both better and worse. Though you had been cleaned up and were no longer in blood stained clothes that had been cut away from your body, now thick bandages covered your head and you were littered with wires and tubes connected to beeping machines. 

“Papa’s here,” Toto murmured as he settled his hand on your elbow to miss the cast below and the blood pressure cuff above. 

Charles swallowed down the lump in his throat and took Jack’s hand, leading him quietly out of the room as Susie placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder that shook with silent sobs. He could feel the looks of pity he received as he leaned against the corridor wall and slipped down to the floor with an exhausted sigh.

“She’s gonna pull through, mate,” Lewis said as he took a seat beside him. “She’s a Wolff and they are fighters.”

“For now,” Charles corrected. “She’s only a Wolff for now.”

Lewis huffed a short laugh. “Leclerc’s are pretty good fighters too, I guess. She won’t lose that when she loses the name.”

The room was silent except for the reassuring beeps of the monitors showing your steady heartbeat. 

Everyone had reluctantly left throughout the evening until only Charles and Toto remained. Neither man was willing to close their eyes for a moment, no matter how exhausted they were. The coffee Pascale had brought initially helped but now it was a matter of surviving on the packets of instant coffee and long-life milk from the refreshment station down the hall.

Toto cleared his hoarse throat and broke the silence as he stared at your face that still held the same resemblance to that baby faced girl he had raised and was thinking of. “When she was five, there was this boy at school who tried to take her doll. He was a few years older, and at least a foot taller, but she was so determined to stop him that the toy broke in half. She was so mad, she threw it at his head and the Headmaster called me because she refused to apologise to the boy.”

“What happened?” Charles asked curiously as he heard the story for the first time.

“I took her out for a hot chocolate, bought her a new doll and told her how proud I was. We don’t let people bully us, and we don’t give up on what matters.” Toto’s eyes were full of guilt as he looked at the man he already considered to be a part of his family. “What if this is my fault?”

Your father hung his head in shame as he remembered the information the police had managed to gather from the witnesses. They had all said the same thing; you had fought back and refused to give him your engagement ring.

“He was younger than me, and shorter,” you rasped as you blinked your dry eyes and let them adjust to the dimly lit room.

“Y/N,” Charles breathed a sigh of relief that ended in a sob and you squeezed his hand that held yours before it slipped away to hit the call button.

“He always gets the story wrong.” You smiled at Charles as he placed his hand back in yours before seeing your father’s red eyes and well up with tears. “It’s not your fault, papa.”

Toto nodded but you could see it was only for your benefit. “I’m just glad you’re awake, meine liebe Tochter."

“It must be bad,” you huffed a laugh but it froze as your ribs burned at the sudden expansion. “You haven’t called me that since I was a child.”

“Doesn’t matter how old you get, you’ll always be my little girl. How are you feeling?”

“Got a killer headache,” you admitted as you tried to reach for it but Charles tightened his hold and shook his head.

“Careful, mon amour, you’ve been through so much. They had to…” he choked on his words and you wondered what had happened before you woke but the doors opened and the doctors arrived.

You had been moved out of ICU after the doctors were happy with the results of the CT scan and the chest drain was removed, but it would be a few more days before you were able to return home. In the meantime, they had found you a quiet room that overlooked the city and you could see all the way to the Nouvelle Chicane where labourers were working hard to dismantle the track and grandstands so Monte-Carlo could return to normality.

Normality. No one knew what that would mean for you. 

Though you could remember your anniversary and Charles' phone number by heart, you would suddenly find yourself struggling to recall the name for what colour the sky was. It was frustrating to know exactly what you meant but you just couldn’t seem to articulate it. 

When it wasn’t your brain causing you grief, it was any movement from the neck down. The pain relief could only do so much without leaving you in a drug haze and you would rather be in pain and lucid when Charles returned. 

“Good news, I get to break you out of here for an hour,” he said as he arrived in a fresh pair of clothes, pushing a wheelchair to the side of your bed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Your eyes drifted back to the window you had spent three days staring out of. “It’s almost gone.”

“What?” He gingerly took a seat on the edge of the bed and tried to see what you saw. “The track?”

“You could’ve won, Charles. You should’ve won.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But if I had to choose between you and a race, I will always pick you.” He leaned back and draped his arm over the back of your pillow, careful not to touch the stitches on your head. “I could be content never racing again as long as I have you by my side. You are all that matters to me. That’s why I can’t wait to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Even if I can’t even remember how to sign my name?”

“Then we’ll make a new one, it is going to be changing soon anyway. Y/N Leclerc,” he mused as he pulled a marker pen out of his pocket that he always carried around. “We can start practising after you’ve had some fresh air.”

Your teeth clenched as you swallowed the pained groan down but it quickly passed once you were settled into the wheelchair. “I’m sorry,” he apologised as he saw your brows pinched and he eased his arms out after carrying you to the chair.

“I’m okay, babe,” you reassured him as he gently pushed you down the hall to the elevator. “It doesn’t hurt as much today.”

It was a lie but you weren’t going to tell him that you had been declining the pain relief offered every few hours.

“Where are we going? Do you have a getaway car ready?”

“Not quite,” he chuckled as the elevator doors closed and he bent down to give you a quick kiss. “I thought you might be sick of hospital food.”

If Charles noticed your reservations he didn’t mention it, filling the silence along the corridors with updates and gossip for you instead. It was amazing that he found the time to catch up on news when he spent almost every minute by your side, only leaving to get fresh clothes and even then he tried to wait until you had another visitor so you were never alone.

He had tried to get you to talk about the nightmares that haunted your sleep but you weren’t ready to face that demon yet. The sleepless nights didn’t just affect you and you could see the dark circles around Charles’ eyes from staying up with you, holding your hand and wiping away the tears that regularly found their way down your cheeks.

“I love you.”

He paused the story he had been recalling and put the brake on the wheelchair as he pointed it to a bench at the front of the busy hospital. Sitting down in front of you, he took your hand. “I love you too.”

“I want you to go home.”

“Just a few more days and we’ll go home,” he said with a sigh, looking down the road as if he could see your apartment on the waterfront. “I know it’s hard, but please be patient a little longer, mon amour.”

You squeezed his hand and your eyes closed as flashes of light danced across your vision, the migraines a recurrence thanks to the concussion. “No, I want you to go home. Go rest and sleep in a proper bed, see your friends, your team. I don’t want you missing out on anymore because of me.”

“You stubborn woman, beautiful, stubborn woman.” Charles leaned closer and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, your hair that was missing a patch at the back where it had been shaved for surgery. “What is it going to take for you to get it? I’m not missing out on anything. I’m right where I am meant to be, with you.”

You opened your eyes to see the sincerity on his face and your argument faded away with his kiss.

“I’m sorry for being stubborn,” you murmured against his lips. “I guess you could say I have a thick skull.”

“Ma chérie,” he groaned and pulled back to laugh softly. “That’s not funny.”

“I beg to diff-” your words froze as the doors up ahead opened and you panic contracted your chest.

“Y/N?” Charles asked, his hand cupping your cheek as your lips parted with rapid breaths before he followed your fixed gaze. “What is it?”

Charles saw you staring at a newcomer in reception. He was asking to see a doctor as he held his arm that was streaked with angry red and weeping cuts that were clearly infected and in need of antibiotics.

Charles’ head snapped back to you and saw the fear written on your face along with the cold sweat that broke on your forehead. You were terrified of the stranger, terrified he would recognise you like you had recognised him.

The man glanced over his shoulder and you looked down at your hands. It was as if you could still feel the skin that you had raked your nails down and feel the blood that had coated them.

“Charles,” you stammered as your hands began to tremble. “It’s him. He did this to me.”

Charles was on his feet in an instant and crossing the room, his shoulders back so he stood at his full height when he faced the person who assaulted you. Your sweet, gentle fiancé was gone and the man who stood in his place was one you didn’t recognise. There was no warmth in those green eyes, no smile on those lips. You had seen him furious after races ended badly but nothing came close to the rage that simmered close to the surface. 

“You,” Charles growled as he stepped toe to toe with the man who blanched back in realisation. “Don’t even think about it.”

Your fingers dug into the vinyl padding along the armrest as you watched the man turn and try to flee, but Charles was faster. You were too stunned to do or say anything when the receptionist screamed for security and Charles tackled the man around the waist, taking him to the floor with a heavy thud.

Sanity returned as quick as it left when Charles’ fist connected with the man’s jaw and security burst into the building. “Shit, Charles!” you screamed as thick arms curled under him and dragged him away. 

“I promise you,” Charles growled angrily, his eyes wild as they narrowed on the man cradling his jaw. “You’re gonna pay for what you did.”

He shook the arms off him and brushed a hand through his hair before pointing to the man. “Will someone call the fucking police? This bastard assaulted my wife!”

You should have been focused on what was unfolding but your heart fluttered at the words that rolled so naturally off his tongue and a small smile tipped your lips up. 

Your attack had been widely publicised by the major news outlets, and there were plenty of grainy CCTV images of his face, so when Charles pointed his finger at the man responsible the security guards quickly turned their attention to him.

“Charles,” you called softly, his hair bouncing as he rushed back to your side. “Are you alright?”

You took his hand, gently unfurling his trembling fist as you saw the reddening skin across his knuckles. He slipped his hand out of your grasp and shook it out with a wince.

“Hurt more than I thought it would,” he admitted as he stared at the hand that had struck violence before dropping to the bench seat and hanging his head in shame. “I didn’t mean to scare you, mon amour.”

“You didn’t scare me, Charles. You could never scare me,” you assured him as you lifted his head so you could see the eyes you had fallen in love with. “I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“I’ve never felt anything like that before,” he admitted. “Something just flipped and I was so angry I couldn’t control it.”

You saw his eyes start to drift away but you brought him back with a soft kiss. “You called me your wife.”

“I did, didn’t I?” His eyes widened before crinkling with a smile. “You’re already my everything, mi alma, ma cœur, mia amata. Marry me.”

“That’s the plan.”

“No, now, as soon as we can. Marry me, please.”

The thought of waiting six months suddenly felt like a lifetime and you were already nodding your head, the doors crashing open as police swarmed the reception. “Okay, yes, of course,” you said with a beaming smile as cuffs were slapped on the strangers wrists.

“Yeah?” Charles seemed shocked you actually agreed but when your smile widened and you nodded he blessed you with a smile you hadn’t seen since you saw him before the qualifiers, the one that defined his dimples. “I’ll call your father now. I, ah, should probably update him about that too.”

You looked over to see the man receiving some treatment and heard the police officer remind the doctor to keep it to ‘just the basics’ so he could be transported to the station.

You nodded numbly, in a state of shock, as he pulled his phone out. The last ten minutes had been a roller coaster of emotions and you ran a hand down your face to find your cheeks wet once more. This time they were tears of joy and relief.

“I’m getting married,” you whispered to yourself before a surprise giggle bubbled in your chest. Despite the terror and pain you had survived, your dreams were about to come true and if anyone could manage to organise last minute nuptials in Monte-Carlo it was Charles. The man has connections everywhere.

“Your father is on his way,” Charles said as he returned, tapping his phone against his thigh in his nervous habit. “I hope that bastard is taken away before he gets here or it might be Toto that ends up behind bars.”

“He’s all bark, no bite. I think he’s safe.”

“Don’t underestimate what a father would do for his child,” Charles said softly. “If we had children I know there is nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”

You swallowed at the sincerity in his voice and placed your hand on his. “You’ll make a great father, Charles.”

He leaned forward and captured your lips in a searing kiss before resting his forehead on yours. “But first I have to be a great husband, and to do that I have some favours to call in.”

“Who?”

Charles just smiled but you saw the name on the screen before he hit the call button. Prince Albert of Monaco.

“You’re hoping to use your favour with the Prince on this!”

“I can’t think of a better use,” he said with a wink as the line trilled. “All that matters is by the end of the day you are mine and I am yours in every sense. Ah, hi, hello, it’s Charles Leclerc, I was hoping to speak with the Prince…”

You watched Charles pace as he spoke, his free hand fidgeting with his rings and his hair until it dropped to his side and his jaw fell slack. You feared the Prince wasn’t going to be able to help with fast tracking the legal side of the marriage but then Charles fist punched the air and his laugh reached you. “Thank you, your highness, thank you.”

He ended the call and smiled brighter than the times he had stood on the centre podium. “We’re getting married!”

What's a soft launch? (Lando Norris x Leclerc! Reader)

YN Leclerc is dating Lando Norris in secret, and they had been keeping it really quite for the past 9 months, but unfortunately she is dating an idiot who forgot to close his stream.

or

in which YN Leclerc and Lando Norris make everyone watching his stream need to bleach their eyes.

N.B: this is something for fun and has no relation to real life people. Also, I'll be doing a sm fic based on this cause a meme picture is what started this for me.

WARNING: suggestive, no actual smut. Making out. PDA cause lando forgot to close his stream. Mentions of breast, nipple and bra. French not used properly?... if i missed anything else let me know!

Sighing, Lando stretched his back while calling for his girlfriend- letting her know that it's okay to come in.

"Hey handsome."

username: is that who I think it is!

username: ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

username: someone call 911 lando no rizz pulled YN Leclerc

username: I want yn to call me handsome too

Unaware of the fast chat the couple smiled at each other as YN sat on Lando's lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, wrists staying still at the nape of his neck while her fingers play with the soft curls of his hair.

"Hello ma chérie."

And that's all the older boy got to say as the young girl latched her lips onto his, tightening her grip around his neck while his arms rest at her hips, squeezing them as he lifts her up a bit trying to reach as much of her as possible.

username: AY YOOOOOO someone tell my man he is live and we can see that

username: THE GRIP HE HAS ON MY GIRL

username: ooofffff, Lando's funeral is gonna be tomorrow my dudes

username: F in the chat for lando

username: F in the chat for charles, he having a heart attack rn

username: my girl gonna wake up with bruises

Breaking away to catch their breath Lando's hand caressed her hips, moving until they rested on her ass

"Ohhhh, okay, are we going there."

"I don't know gorgeous, are we?"

Shifting around in the chair, Lano placed his back to the arm of the chair moving YN in front of him- unknowingly, making the viewers have a perfect view of their interlocking lips which were quickly followed by a gasp from YN as Lando pressed his hips into hers- thus allowing a perfect entrance of his tongue into her mouth.

username: OKAY THIS IS A FULL MAKE OUT SESSION.

username: LANDO IS DYING AT 25 MY DUDES

username: FFS SOMEONE CALL THEM OR SEND A SUB OR SOMETHING, WE DON'T WANT LANDO TO DIE

username: Holy shit, YN have mercy on your brothers

username: how to be Lando rn

username: THIS FEELS SO WRONG, THEY LITERALY HAVE THEIR TONGUES DOWN EACH OTHER'S THROATS

username: please lord, let Lando still be able to have kids after seeing the Leclerc brothers

Being interrupted by her ringtone did not deter the couple from their steamy activity, in fact it was like they didn't even hear it as Lando's right hand slipped into the girl's shirt roaming around her stomach as it rested in her breast.

Another ringtone...... Lando's left hand made its way to her bra's clasp, opening it with swiftness that made it evident it had not been the first time he had done that.

The way their tongues moved and their arms explored places they were already familiar with only comes with expirence. A lot of experience.

As the ringtone got repeated for the third time, Lando decided to slow down, removing his lips from hers while his right hand pushed her bra downward a bit, making him feel her hard nipple under his fingertips.

Moving her left arm from around his neck while balancing herself with her right arm, YN reached into her back pocket getting her phone out.

"Oh, it's Danny"

The cheerful voice of the girl filles the room

username: of thank god!

username: FINALLY

username: Lando, you will be missed

username: this has been the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life

username: I wasn't even doing anything and I'm out of breath

Answering the phone YN couldn't even get a word out before Daniel is screaming into her ear

"IT'S LIVE! YOU'RE FUCKING LIVE."

Snapping her head towards her boyfriend's set up, she quickly balanced the phone in between her ear and her shoulder while removing his hand from under her shirt, tipping as she attempted to close the live while holding her bra in place as much as possible.

"What? What's wrong?" Upon seeing his girlfriend's frantic behaviour Lando became alert, worried something might be wrong.

"YOU DIDN'T CLOSE THE LIVE!"

"WHAT!!"

In a hurry to get up from his position and close the stream he tripped over his own feet just as his hands reached the desk, and as an attempt to save himself from the fall he gripped the first thing within his reach- his keyboard and his mic- making them fall right on his head.

The sudden scream of Lando's and the quite comical fall (in YN's opinion) made her forget about the older man on her phone and about the entire issue. The only thing she did was double over in laughter that within seconds turned into a sound similar to that of a car's windshield wiper.

"Oh, I'm glad my pain is amusing you."

username: this is the best stream of my entire fucking life man

username: I have no idea what is going on, but I love it

username: this is hilarious.

SOCIAL MEDIA REACTIONS

THE BROTHERS' REACTION

Flower power pall mall

A/N: Benedict’s flower waist coat made me do it… I mean look at it, don’t you just want to poke the embroidery? Set during season 2, episode 3. The Sharmas are visiting the Bridgertons and while everyone is set to win in a family with eight brothers and sisters, (Y/N) and Benedict are especially ruthless. (In my mind, (Y/N) is called Fleur which might give further context for the flower references.)

“Miss Edwina, you must know,” Benedict felt compelled to say with the typical crooked smirk on his lips, “that you should never place your ball anywhere near the one of (Y/N). Eloise is eager to win, but (Y/N) doesn’t even take notice of any one ball that is not her own.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at your brother’s comment. “Oh, please!”

“She’s already managed to make balls disappear on the roof,” Benedict continued, while he was circling you lazily. “And through certain windows.” The way you rolled your eyes at him merely made him pinch your nose.

“Once,” Colin added, “she even cracked mine in half with the force of her mallet.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” A slight blush crept over your cheeks as you glared at your two smirking brothers, quite embarrassed by them displaying your ruthless pall mall side in front of the Sharma sisters. To your surprise, they did not seem shocked in the least. Kate even nodded approvingly. “Then I shall manoeuvre your eldest brother’s ball quite close to yours at all times.”

You bit your lip to keep from barking out a laugh at Anthony’s expanse, but he was too busy glaring holes in your guest anyway. Benedict’s grin grew wide enough to reveal his “vampyre teeth” as Hyacinth tended to call them – quite the fitting description in your opinion, but one that had also incited your brother to attack his younger sisters in a fittingly vampiric manner. You had to smile at the memory of Hyacinth’s squeals whenever Benedict managed to blow a raspberry under her chin.

A mallet pushing against your shoulder blade brought you out of balance and made you stumble two steps forward, right into Benedict’s back. Exasperatedly you turned around to see Daphne put on an angelic smile. She merely raised her brows at your burning glare and put her mallet back down by her feet. “Would you make some space for Miss Edwina, sister! She gets to open the game.”

Grumbling, you made two extra big steps away from the field – and from Daphne – and pulled a disobedient strand of brown hair behind your ear. “You’ve definitely gotten meaner ever since you moved out!”

“Well, she no longer gets to tease you as often as we do,” Benedict pointed out, stepping closer to you and looking on as Miss Edwina Sharma got into position, exceedingly supported by Anthony.

“That must be really hard on her!” You said in a mocking tone, grabbing some of your dresses’ fabric to pull it out from underneath your shoes which almost led to you falling over had it not been for your brother’s stabilizing hand.

“I know it would be for me,” Benedict replied earnestly enough to make your lips twitch as you turned your head to look at the younger Sharma sister opening the game. He pulled you back slightly when the noise of mallet on ball rang over the grass and Miss Edwina’s ball got rather close to where you were standing.

“Are you holding her back?” Eloise chuckled, when she saw his hand on your arm. “Too scared she might run straight after the ball?”

With a disbelieving face you look looked up at him. “Are you??”

The laughing sound your brother made almost sounded a little scared. He let go off your arm immediately and raised his hands next to his head to show how innocent his intentions had been. “Of course not, I was trying to pull you out of harm’s way – the one you always somehow end up in! But by all means, get yourself knocked out by a pall mall ball next time!”

Benedict quickly moved away when you had to laugh at his words and tried to reach for him to restore the peace between you two. You chased after him for two steps, before you gave up, simply letting him jump back to Colin’s side, shaking your head at his antics and moving yourself to Eloise’s side.

The game had begun. And what a game it was. Daphne was too good to not earn her the conjoint mocking of you and Eloise, while Anthony was precise and focused as always, making everyone shake their heads at him. Benedict was too busy daydreaming and fooling around to have any real chance at winning, which was never truly his goal anyway. Colin was good enough at the game, but never gloated like Eloise did. You were getting on everyone’s nerves since you continuously held up your thumb for way too long to calculate the forces of the wind. You weren’t sure whether Edwina was having a lot of fun, while Kate seemed to be having the time of her life – especially, when Anthony was failing.

When you had the audacity to stretch out your thumb again the next time it was your turn, Benedict leaned over to blow air on your hand. You sent him an unimpressed look over your shoulder.

“Strong wind today,” he concluded with a shrug, making you extend your arm and push him against the chest.

“Remove yourself!”

Colin let out a surprised laugh. “That’s a bit harsh!”

“Are they always like this?” You heard Kate laugh, when Benedict tried to disturb your sight by holding a strand of your own hair in your face.

Anthony let out a long humming noise of agreement that managed to express not only many years of frustration caused by having you as his siblings, but also the deep affection that went with it. Kate sent him a curious glance.

“Stop it,” you protested and extended your hand to defend yourself, managing to brush a soft spot on Benedict’s stomach. He reacted with a little huff and quickly turned his upper body to the side, raising your attention. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hit one of your flowers?”

The many flowers that were embroidered on Benedict’s waist coat had already given enough reason to ridicule him all morning, but they came especially in handy now that he was getting on your nerves. Actually, you thought them to be quite beautiful, but there was no reason to feed your brother’s ego all too much by telling him that. Instead you extended your hand again and aimed for another one of them, hitting your target and poking it with precision. Benedict’s “vampyre grin” expanded on his features as he couldn’t help but chuckle at the ticklish sensation your little attack provoked on his torso.

“(Y/N)!” He giggled, slapping your hand away, but immediately seeing himself forced to bend over again, as your fingers continued to single out every single flower available on his waist coat to subdue him to a continuous attack of pokes all over his middle. It made your heart feel warm inside your chest to hear cheerful cackles pour out of him like leaking water. “Stop it, that tickles!!”

“Aww, does it?” You taunted, fully aware of how ticklish your brother was and not exactly eager to stop your attack on his huge body that shrunk in on itself more and more. Besides, he didn’t seem particularly set on escaping himself; more like he was seconds away from falling over and curling up into a ball on the grass. Benedict was truly just a playful child, no matter his actual age.

Anthony looked on fondly, but cleared his throat meaningfully. “May we get on with the game then, dear sister?”

Your eldest brother’s voice kicked you out of the meditative state Benedict’s giggles had put you in. “Oh, uhm, sure!” You called out, noticing how everyone was looking at you expectantly. Of course, it was your turn and they couldn’t simply continue the game without you having done your shot. Benedict was shaken by a few more giggles after your hand had ceased its attack and slowly unbent himself to stand back up to his full size. To be safe, you took advantage of him still being tickle-wobbly on his knees and pushed him once more to make him stumble a few steps away from you, before you took your mallet into both hands and quickly aimed at your ball.

Kate chuckled good heartedly and called to you. “Make haste, (Y/N)! I think your brother seeks revenge!”

That didn’t exactly help you focus on your shot; and it got worse, when you recognized a very familiar growling noise behind you. A hysterical sound left your lungs, when you dared a quick look over your shoulder and saw Benedict roll up his sleeves and come closer to you again. “That demands satisfaction!”

“No, no, no!” You laughed, inching forward ever so slightly to get some distance between you two, without losing the control over your ball.

“Ugh, just hit it, (Y/N)!” Eloise sighed loudly, knowing exactly how this would play out.

But her advice actually made you act. You did as she said, you hit the ball. But in the wrong direction – towards your brother. Anthony and Colin burst out laughing, when Benedict got hit by your shot and took to wailing loudly. His mouth agape, he held his arm where your ball had stricken him and stared at you disbelievingly. “I cannot believe you just hit me!!”

Eloise had to hold on to Daphne’s arm to keep from falling over with laughter and Benedict’s glare in her direction promised certain retribution in the aftermath of this game. But for the time being, his gaze fell back on you. You, who were wise enough to having taken off over the field, before he could realize it.

“Oh ho ho, I see how it is!” Benedict yelled after you, a chuckle colouring his voice. Rubbing his arm, he turned around to the guests as formally as his playful soul allowed. “Excuse me, Myladies, I must quickly go after my sister and … retrieve her.” Anthony and Kate both raised a brow with amused expressions on their faces, as your brother turned around and immediately started chasing after you with a fear inducing sound.

You were already laughing too much to make wise steps on the grass with a dress that was constantly getting between your legs and underneath your shoes. The race that looked more like a stumbling newborn – you – being chased by a feral leopard – Benedict – could only have one possible outcome. The wind blew your hair in your face when you turned around to hold out your mallet and protect yourself against him. You saw Kate grinning at you two, while your siblings were getting on with the game, well acquainted with situations like these, where one brother would chase a sister.

Benedict’s blue eyes were glowing playfully as he extended his own mallet in your direction. “En garde!” Knowing full well that all that mattered was to keep him at a distance, you stumbled further backwards and threw your mallet at him to make him stay where he was. But he merely blocked the projectile with one arm and chuckled darkly at the attempt. “Now what?

You held up your hands and tried to form a normal sentence through your breathless laughter. “Now, let’s just talk about this!” But your brother preferred to snarl and bend over in a predatory way, before he ran right into you with his shoulder knocking against your middle to lift you off the grass. You squealed when you felt your feet leave the ground, your body slung over his shoulder.

“Aren’t you a sneaky little flower,” He chuckled as he turned around himself a few times, making your hands grab for the fabric of his jacket as the world whirled around you. Then he made himself fall on the grass on purpose, dropping you before him and rolling over you. “Let’s see how she likes being tickled!”

You kicked, hit, smacked, pushed and twisted as hard as you could, hysterical laughter taking your breath away, but Benedict managed to jab his fingers into your sides nevertheless. He knew exactly where it tickled the most, having put you in a similar position many times in your life. It was truly not fair, how you were already wheezing with laughter after two seconds. “NO PLEASE NO!”

“I protect you from pall mall ball attacks and this is the thanks I get?” He shouted over your bubbly laughter, smirking down at you, as his hands danced over your sides.

“You’re a – BABY!!” You exclaimed through your helpless laughter and tried to pull his hands away from your sides, which only led to Benedict searching for more ticklish spots on your ribs.

“You really don’t know what’s good for you, do you?” He gasped, quite impressed by your willingness to provoke him even further while he was in the perfect position to make you pay for it. You threw your head back and tried more frantically to push his hands away, when they started crawling over your belly, hitting mean spots that made you shriek with laughter.

“StOOOHP!!”

“Oh no, I don’t think my little flower has already had enough!” He taunted, trying push his head past your flailing arms to make his teeth’s nickname proud yet again. You protected your neck at all costs, but the fingers that wiggled into your weak spots distracted you too much to be successful. The laughter seemed to come straight from your heart when his lips made contact with your neck.

“BEN PLEASE NO!!” You squeaked with mirth, your feet hitting the ground behind your brother. He was ruthless with his raspberries, while your hands were pushing helplessly against his immobile chest. Benedict used that to his full advantage and let his hands wander to poke your sides untethered alongside the ticklish treatment of your neck. You were lost to helpless laughter. Benedict’s head moved up and away from your neck, a smug, tickle-drunk smile on his face. “Do you give up?”

You tried to free your hands from where they were pinned between the two of you, tossing your head from left to right to negate his question, but regretting it immediately when he shrugged good-naturedly and blew another raspberry under your ear. “OKAY!” You squealed. “PLEASE, I GIVE UP, I DOO!!”

You gasped in relief when your brother’s fingers finally slipped away from your sides and his weight shifted off you. Groaning he rolled over on his back and squinted his eyes against the sun to smirk at you wheezing next to him.

“Flowers,” he mused, “they are so delicate and sweet!”

You turned your head to glare at him and proceeded to hit his shoulder with your fist, but you had to laugh nevertheless. “If that were true, you could have never tickled me that hard!”

“Oh,” Benedict scoffed, tilting his head meaningfully, “that wasn’t hard. I was being gentle!” He poked your side again, making you yelp and grab for his wrist. You were about to protest, but then you recalled the times Anthony had tickled Benedict and you had to agree that Benedict had in fact been gentle with you…

Huffing about the two of you, you kept his wrist in your grip and put his hand on your stomach, wrapping both of yours around his. “What would I do without you?” You sighed, inching closer to his side and pulling at his arm to get it to move around you. He chuckled softly and did as you wished, pulling you close to him and keeping you there with his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“You would probably do just fine, (Y/N).”

“Yes,” you replied, before resuming the poking of the embroidered flowers on his waist coat, “but I would miss you terribly!”

Benedict twitched and threw his head back against the ticklish sensations that you were spreading over his middle again, little titters of laughter shaking him as he tried to get a hold of your hand. “No no, I can’t! Truce, truce!!”

Anthony’s voice rang through to you from the other end of the field. “Ben, (Y/N), are you giving up, or what?”

You stilled your hand and found your brother’s gleaming blue eyes.

“Never!!” You exclaimed simultaneously and stumbled to your feet, grabbing your mallets and returning to the others to resume the game. You would show him how delicate a flower you were.

But the way Benedict looked at you with fondness actually made you understand quite clearly: you would always be his little flower.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

CHARLES LECLERC

WE LOVE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY

<33333

CHARLES LECLEEEERC CHARLES LECLEEEERC

CHE CE FREGA DE VERSTAPPEN NOI C'AVEMO CHARLES LECLERC

Baby Fever - Max Verstappen

<word count - 10,231>

You walked through the Red Bull garage, keeping your head down as to not make eye contact with anyone. It was your first day back after taking the past week off due to not being able to look at anything or anyone Red Bull related recently. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the one person responsible for your pain and heartache. Funnily enough, he was also the person responsible for your impending arrival in around seven and a half months time.

—

You didn't know how to feel, the verdict for the rest of your life sitting on the bathroom counter. Scott was sat downstairs of your shared home in Milton Keynes, completely unaware of what was unfolding upstairs. You had had your suspicions for a few weeks, but Scott had made a firm point that he never wanted children and he never would.

As the seconds agonisingly ticked by, you wondered what you were going to do if it turned out to be positive. You'd have to tell Scott before you both left for the next race, and you'd have to tell Christian so you could plan maternity leave. You might even have to stop travelling to races. If it was negative, you would forget about it and move on.

Checking your watch, you saw that the time was up and it was time to reveal your fate. You turned the test over, clapping your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. The two lines were clear as day, and there was no denying it, as well as the three others you took afterwards.

You had to convince yourself that it would all be alright and Scott would be completely fine with this. Your mind even played the part of the story where he was happy, no, overjoyed with this. But, before the tale could end, the footage skipped back to the realistic outcome.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you took a few deep breaths and reassured yourself that, no matter what happened, everything would be fine. You trudged downstairs, the tests in your hands behind your back. "Scott?" You called out, even though you knew he was in the kitchen typing away at his laptop. "In here, babe," he responded, not taking his eyes off the screen as you walked in.

"Are you free to talk for a second?" You asked, sitting down opposite him at the table.

"I will be in just a minute," he said, finishing typing out what you assumed was an email and clicked the mouse. "OK, I am all yours," Scott said, resting his head on his hands.

"I-" you started, but you couldn't find the words to say it. Instead, you placed all of the tests down in front of him and tried to read his facial expression. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He looked up at you as he held one in his hands. "Are you serious?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. You nodded slowly, aggressively picking at the sides of your fingers it of the pure fear and nervousness. "What are you going to do with it?" he asked, his tone cold as it stabbed your heart.

They way he called your child an it cut deeper than anything you had ever felt before. "I don't know," you whispered, looking down at the table as tears slipped down your cheeks. He should be comforting you, telling you it was alright and he wasn't mad.

"I know what I want you to do with it," he bit, throwing the tests at you from across the table. It was at that point you knew exactly what you were going to do. Your maternal instincts kicked in, and you realised the dream you had never had.

You wanted to keep your child, whether Scott was going to be there or not. "I want to keep it, Scott," you said, looking at him through glassy, reddened eyes. "I want to watch our child grow and bring them up to be the best person they can be," you told him.

"Well you're on your own then," he said, standing from the table and swiping his laptop from the surface. After all of these years of being together, he decided he was done when you needed him most. "So we're done," you said, your voice unwavering.

"If you're keeping it, then yes," he spoke, before ascending the stairs. Either way, you knew you were done with him. If you did decide to be rid of the baby, you didn't want to be with someone who would treat you like that. If anything, it was for the better that you saw Scott's true colours.

That very same night, you packed your bags and left for a friends house.

—

Seeing Scott on your first day back was inevitable, but you still wished you could have avoided him completely. You caught him looking at you, but that took your attention away from the other pair of eyes that were lingering.

Max had liked you as soon as Christian introduced you to the team and as part of the media team. You were stunning, and he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were easy to talk to and media duties quickly became the best part of his week.

There was, of course, the factor of Scott that was stopping him from asking you out. People had encouraged him, but he didn't want to be a homewrecker. Sure, he hadn't heard great things about Scott and he wasn't a fan of the guy when they had spoken, but you seemed to love him and he didn't want to get in the way of that.

He thought you looked different after your week off. You weren't as well kempt as you normally were, and your face was pale and sunken. It was the weekend of Australia, and you were wearing a thick jacket that just wasn't needed.

Thankfully, the media office was empty as you sat and fought back the tears. You needed to stay to provide for your impending new arrival, but it was going to be one of the hardest things you would ever do. Seeing that piece of shit everyday was going to hurt.

People had been casting dubious glances at you as you walked around, and you heard the whispers of why Scott had been at work and you hadn't. You heard that people had asked, and he had just said you were sick. He didn't have the guts to tell them that you were pregnant and he broke it off when he found out.

You heard footsteps approaching the door and wiped the stray tears away as you tried to make yourself look busy. "Hey, Christian said he wants to talk to you," Checo's press officer popped her head around the door. "OK, thank you," you smiled, giving yourself a minute to compose yourself before going to see your boss.

This wasn't a surprise since you had emailed earlier in the morning asking to speak to him. You strolled through the Red Bull building, earning more quick glances as you smiled at them. You didn't want to let them believe that you were bothered by them in any capacity.

Taking one final deep breath, you knocked on the door of Christian's office and heard a muffled 'Come in' from the inside. You opened the door and saw Christian sat at his desk. You knew the meeting would have to be short - he was a very busy man.

"Take a seat," he said, leaning back in his chair and pointing towards the two black, leather chairs in front of the desk. You sat down, crossing your legs. "So, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"In a few months, I'm going to have to take some time off," you started, Christian nodding along as you thought he was getting the hints. "Scott too then, I'm guessing?"

"No, no. Just me," you said, averting your eyes to your hands. Deep down, you knew he would ask and it was only natural to - it takes two to tango. But you didn't think it would be this awkward to tell people.

Christian raised an eyebrow, "You're pregnant, right?" he confirmed.

"Yes, but Scott and I aren't together anymore," you told him, hearing another knock at the door. You stood as you figured the person on the other side also had an important reason to talk to Christian, and approached the door. "Congratulations," he said, and you simply smiled at him.

Opening the door, you saw the Dutchman on the other side. "Hey, Max," you quietly said, gently pushing past him and down the corridor. "Hey, Y/N," he replied, and he couldn't help but worry about you immediately.

He noticed the tears brimming in your eyes and you weren't your usual, happy self. "Is she alright?" Max asked, entering the room and sitting in the same place that you had.

"She's going through some things at the moment," Christian said, not wanting to tell everything about your problems to Max. "I heard some rumours about her and Scott, but that's the most I know,"

"They're not together anymore, but she's pregnant," Christian said, letting Max connect the dots. Christian carried on with whatever the meeting was supposed to be about, but he couldn't concentrate. It was obvious that Scott had left her, but whether it was because of the pregnancy or not was still ambiguous.

—

As the weeks had gone by, it had become increasingly easier to do work, and it had given you something to focus on instead of Scott. Christian had allowed you to work less and you were going abroad less. But, you had insisted on coming to Monaco.

You loved the lavishness of it all and the sparkle of the marina at night was magical and mesmerizing.

Max had been looking out for you more, but you thought he was just being nice since the news spread about the soon-to-be mini Red Bull team member. He was always asking if you wanted a drink or a snack, or offering his drivers room if you needed a quiet moment around the track.

You had woken up on the morning of the Thursday in Monaco with horrendous morning sickness. You had thrown up a few times, but got ready for work and headed to the track as usual. You and the team had planned for Max and Checo to do some challenges at the marina for YouTube.

The first half had gone great, and the two of them were having a blast. It was hilarious to watch and you knew that fans would love it. For about half an hour, you were having a break and you took the time to sit in the corner of the dock, trying to bypass the sickness you felt.

You ran your hands over the small bump that you had as a way to soothe yourself. "Hey, you alright?" you felt a hand on your shoulder as Max sat down.

He had been watching you more than he usually would over the past couple weeks. Even if you didn't need taking care of, he still wanted to make sure you were alright since Scott wasn't around to do it. From afar, he noticed that you looked very uncomfortable.

You were sat completely motionless, staring at the water and rubbing your stomach lightly. "Yeah, just feeling a but nauseous," you smiled, looking at him. His smile had a magical quality that could put you at ease. You were glad to be spending more time with Max recently, and you were slowly getting to know each other.

"Here, this might help," he said, handing you a bottle of water that he had gotten for you before he came. "I noticed you didn't drink anything since the start of the shoot, and you need to stay hydrated," he told you. You were glad you had Max to think of these things, since you didn't have Scott to.

"So you've been watching me?" you teased, playfully nudging him as his cheeks burned an intense red. "I'm just making sure you're alright, not that you can't do that yourself, but-" he rambled, and you couldn't help but giggle at him.

His rambles were cut short by a sharp intake of breath from you as another wave of nausea rippled over you. "You can go back to your hotel if you want, I'm sure these guys will be fine without you," he said, the worry for you returning.

He hated seeing you in pain, and he wished he could just take you in his arms and hold you until it went away. But, he didn't think you could ever feel the same. You didn't think he would want to be with you if you had another man's baby on the way.

"I'll be fine. Besides, my hotel is on the other side of the city and I don't feel like paying for a taxi," you explained, trying to ignore the sickness.

Max had three options. He could: pay for your taxi, offer to take you to his apartment that was just around the corner, or he could leave it and let you stay. He decided to shoot his shot and ask if you wanted to go to his to relax.

"I could take you to my apartment. It's just around the corner and you can have a lie down," he explained, and you couldn't ignore the butterflies that came to life in your stomach when he offered. "Thank you, Max, really, but I can't just leave work," you said.

"I'll sort it out," he said, wanting nothing more than for you to let him help you, to let him take care of you. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course," he said, standing and offering his hand out for you to take. You took it, and a small part of your heart screamed at you to keep hold. But, your head got there first and forced your fingers to unclasp from his.

"Are you sure because-" you started.

"Y/N, don't get stressed, it's not good for the baby. You relax and I will take care of it," he told you, turning away out of embarrassment. Had he been reading up on pregnancy and babies? Yes. But, he didn't want to make it obvious. He had subconsciously made it his duty to keep you calm and relaxed at all times.

He led you through Monte Carlo, taking you down side streets and shortcuts to get you there quicker. The pair of you entered a lavish looking apartment complex and the doorman greeted you with a nod. He belled the elevator and you headed up to the top and to the penthouses.

The doors slid open with a ding and you were met with a very modern set up. Your favourite part was instantly the large, floor to ceiling windows that provided the most incredible view of Monaco. You could see people beneath you, as well as the marina with all of the yachts lined up. For a moment, you wondered which one was Max's.

"My room is through here," he said, walking towards one of the doors and opening it to reveal a grand master bedroom, "There is some comfier stuff in the wardrobe, so grab whatever you want, and the bathroom is through there if you want a shower," he explained, giving you a mini tour of the room.

"And you can eat or drink whatever you want, make yourself at home. If you need anything, call me and I'll be back as soon as I can," he smiled, leaving you to get comfy and the elevator dinged to tell you he was gone. You wandered through to the master bathroom and, for a bathroom, it was breathtaking.

The shower was huge and the bath in the corner of the room was massive. You couldn't resist the shower, so you set it running and found a clean towel in the cabinet. After stripping off your clothes, you stepped into the stream of hot water.

The water was so soothing and eased the nausea a great deal. You squirted some of the shampoo that was on the side into the palm of your hand and worked it into your scalp. The suds slid down your back as you washed it out of your hair, before repeating the process with the conditioner.

Once you were out of the shower, you towel dried your hair and slipped your shorts back up your legs. You didn't feel like putting your Red Bull polo back on as it was too small now that you had a baby bump, and it wasn't the most comfortable.

Trudging back out to the bedroom, you opened the wardrobe and picked out one of Max's hoodies. You had seen him in it a few times, and it was one of your favourites. You pulled it on and it was soft against your skin.

It had been a long day, so you led down on the king sized bed. It felt weird that you were lying on Max's bed, so you were considering moving to one of the spare bedrooms or the couch. Before you could make the decision, you drifted off to sleep, the scent of Max filling your nostrils.

—

Max ran back to the marina since he was a few minutes late, but the crew thankfully weren't bothered. They asked about where you had gone, but he just said you weren't feeling too great so he took you back to the hotel.

"You have it bad, mate," Checo teased, appearing next to Max as he arrived.

"Pfft, no I don't," Max tried to play it off, but the Mexican knew his friend too well. "I was just being friendly," he tried to explain away why he had taken her back.

"You didn't take her back to the hotel, Max. You took her to your apartment," Checo said, and Max looked flabbergasted. "Her hotel is too far away, and your apartment isn't. It's the only logical place," Checo further explained. This guy was clever.

"Yes, I did. She's pregnant, she deserves a nice place to rest," Max said, unable to make eye contact with his fellow driver. "Normally, I'd believe you, but it doesn't help that you told us how you feel,"

"How did you know?" Max asked.

"Well, for one. You look at her like she's the only person in the world and you have taken it upon yourself to look after her, which I admire by the way. And, you told us last week," Checo told him with a smirk. He didn't tell them, did he? He didn't tell anyone, apart from when-.

Shit.

"The party," Max concluded. When he was drunk, he overshared a lot. And, he wouldn't be surprised if someone had prompted the answer. As if he had read Max's mind, Checo said, "Charles asked you if you liked Y/N, and you went on this whole spiel about how much you liked her and you wanted to ask her out,".

Max looked mortified, and Checo was getting a huge kick out of his discomfort. Before they could continue the conversation, they were called over to the dock to carry on filming.

—

Finally, the shoot had finished and Max had found it a lot duller without you there. He zoomed home, but was surprised to return to the apartment and find it completely silent. You were still there, since your shoes were still on the shoe rack.

"Y/N?" he quietly called out, but was met with no answer. You weren't in the kitchen, and you weren't in the living room either. He saw that the bedroom door was slightly ajar, even though he had left the door closed when he left you there.

He entered, and the sight made his heart stop. You were led there, tangled in the sea of crisp white sheets and snuggled up in one of his favourite hoodies. Your hair was almost haloed around your head. Even if he felt creepy, he allowed himself to watch you for a moment.

You looked completely peaceful and there was nothing that could harm you when you were comfortably cuddled up in his bed. He didn't have the heart to wake you up, because you needed the sleep and he wanted to leave you be.

It took every ounce of his being to resist the urge to shuffle into bed next to you and wrap his arms around you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Instead, he quietly took some different clothes out of the wardrobe and went to start on dinner. He wasn't a very good cook, but he had the stuff for pasta and it was one of the few things that he knew how to make.

He was working as quietly as possible so he didn't wake you up, but his mind kept wandering back to the image of you asleep in the other room.

After around half an hour, dinner was ready and Max would have to wake you up. He tiptoed over to his room and found you curled up in a tiny ball, arms wrapped around your torso as if you were protecting the child growing inside you.

Gently, yet hesitantly, he tucked some stray strands of hair behind your ear, before moving his hand to your arm to gently shake you. "Y/N, liefde, dinners ready," the nickname slipped out, but you were still asleep.

After being shaken for a bit, your eyelids fluttered open to see Max kneeling down next to you. He was wearing sweats now, and his hair was tousled perfectly. "I made dinner and I hope you like pasta," he smiled, his hand lingering on your arm.

"Yeah, I do. I hope it's alright I slept in here, I sat down and I was out like a light," you said, sitting up. "Yeah, it's not a problem. It is the comfiest bed in this place," he laughed, helping you up out of the sunken mattress.

As you plated your food, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. His hoodie hung off your frame perfectly, and you could still see the outline of your bump. Your hair was still slightly wet as it cascaded down your back.

The pair of you sat down on the couch and you tucked yourself into the corner seat. "This is really good," you said, taking the first bite of pasta.

"Thanks, it's one of the only things I can cook properly," he joked.

"How was the shoot?"

"It was alright, the others aren't as fun as you are, though," Max complimented. It was true, he was a lot more bored without you prompting them to do things. "I'm sure you were fine," you told him.

The pair of you finished your meals and you took the plates to the sink. When Max heard the sound of the tap running, he turned his head to see you washing the dishes. "You can leave that, I'll do it later," he called, wanting you to come sit back down.

"It's alright, it's the least I can do," you said back, already finished on the first dish anyway. You finished scrubbing the dishes and let them sit on the rack to dry. Padding back over to the corner seat of the couch, you plopped down and shuffled about a bit.

"So, how's the baby and everything?" he asked apprehensively. He really wanted to know more, but he didn't know if you trusted him enough with that kind of information. "They're good. I have my next scan next week, and I'm getting some pictures," you beamed.

He loved how enthusiastic you were when talking about your child and he could tell how much you loved them already. It just made his feelings for you develop even more and it made him admire you and care for you so much more.

He had always wanted kids of his own and he was great with them, but he had never find the right person. Sitting there then, he couldn't help but think that that person could have been you.

"Can I see them when you have them?" he asked, struggling to maintain eye contact in case she said no. "Of course, I'll show you when I next see you," you said.

"Are you sure you're supposed to be flying?"

"Yeah, the doctor said I should be alright for now," you explained, glad that he was interested. Nobody had ever shown this much interest towards you and the baby apart from your friends back home, so it was nice for you to talk about it.

As you sat there, something was creeping up on you and it wasn't being quiet. Your heart was thumping out of your chest whenever you looked at him and it felt like sparks were forming whenever he touched you. Sitting here with Max was something you could get used to.

For a few more hours, you and Max talked a flowing conversation and the room was filled with laughter for the whole night. You checked your watch and saw how late it had gotten. "I'm probably going to have to head home now," you said, standing and approaching the door.

"You can stay, if you want," he offered, desperate for you to stay the night. That would mean you would be the last person he saw before he slept and the first person he saw when he woke up. He'd let you sleep in a bit and make sure you had the best breakfast so you were ready for the day.

"I wish I could, but all my vitamins and stuff are back at my hotel," you said, wanting to stay more than anything. "Can I drive you?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." you nodded.

The pair of you headed to the garage and drove back to the hotel. Max swiftly rounded the car and opened the door for you. "Thank you for today, I really needed it and I've had a great time," you said, standing outside the hotel.

"No problem, I'll tell the door people to let you in if you ever want to use the apartment or anything,"

"I'll get this washed and back to you as soon as possible," you said, tugging at the soft material of his hoodie. "Keep it, it looks good on you," he smirked, and, for a moment, his mind wandered to a scenario where it was on the floor.

"Thank you, Maxie," you blushed. You placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek, before dashing through the doors of the hotel lobby, leaving Max stood there with the biggest grin on his face. He had spent so long loving you from afar, that it was heavenly to imagine loving you that close. It was almost scary.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. He caught a glimpse of you skipping up some stairs to the left of the foyer, so he ran inside the hotel and followed you. Just as he rounded the corner of one of the many corridors, he saw a door closing and the navy blue and orange hoodie going through it.

You heard someone knocking on your door, and you found it weird. Standing on your tiptoes to look through the peephole, you saw the Dutchman stood outside the door. "Miss me already?" you laughed, opening the door.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go to dinner with me one night next week?" he asked, fear taking over his body. Maybe you only saw him as a friend, but how would he know if he didn't try. "Yeah, I'd love that," you smiled, trying not to squeal with happiness.

Your feelings for Max may have been relatively new, but that didn't discredit how strongly you felt for him. Maybe it was just because you were hormonal, but something deep in your heart told you that wasn't the case.

—

You had just exited the doctor's office after going in for a routine scan. Everything was perfectly fine and you had the pictures safely secure in your bag. Just as you hopped in the car, your phone buzzed. To your excitement, it was Max asking about the evenings dinner schedule. He said he was going to pick you up at half five so you could be at the restaurant for 6.

Your heart sang at the thought of getting to go out with him outside of work and you couldn't wait to see him. Of course, you said it was fine, and tried to contain your scream of excitement as you started the car.

Now, you were planning what you were going to wear and how you wanted to do your hair. You were trying to tell yourself that he was still just being friendly. Friends went out on dinners, right? But did they go to dinners at nice restaurant and give people the keys to their apartment? You didn't know.

When you arrived home, you sprung into action of ripping through your entire closet, trying to find something that you A) wanted to wear, and B) something that fit you. You were progressively getting bigger, but you could still fit into the majority of your clothes.

In the end, you picked a long, flowing blue maxi dress. You kept the makeup light, opting for a few swipes of blush and so flicks of mascara. You had washed your hair and had just let it fall around your face in beachy waves.

At twenty minutes past five, the shrill doorbell of your house split your ears and caused you to spring up from the couch and open the door. There was no doubt that it was Max on the other side, but actually seeing him there made you want to pinch yourself to make sure it was really real.

He was wearing a navy blue button up (he looked great in navy) and a pair of slacks. Not seeing him in Red Bull merch was a shock, but a wholly welcomed one. "Hi," you grinned, welcoming him into the house.

As Max peered around, he saw empty spaces on the walls where you must have had pictures of you and Scott. He hoped that there would be pictures of the two of you up there if things went how he so desperately wanted them to.

"Let me just grab my purse and we can head off," you smiled, your heels clicking on the floor as you approached the coat rack where your bag was. Plucking it off the rack, you found Max holding a framed photo in his hands. He was stood next to the coffee table, so you knew it was one from when you were younger.

"How old were you in this?" he asked, assuming it was only a few years ago. It was recent, at least. "I was about nineteen?" you said, trying to count the years back in your head.

"Really? You have not changed a bit," he said, analysing you every feature in the picture, then comparing it to the real you. It was astonishing how you hadn't aged a day over all of those years. If anything, you looked more alive and glowing now than you did in the picture.

"A lot has changed about me, Maxie," you sighed, thinking about how naive you were back then. If someone had told you that you would be a single mother-to-be, and the child's father was an absolute piece of shit, you would have laughed at them.

"And it's all for the better," he complimented. You turned away to cover up the blush that was already creeping up onto your cheeks and walked to the door. Exiting the house, you locked the door behind you and started walking down the stone path to the car.

Max skipped in front of you, opening the car door for you. "You look breathtaking tonight," he softly smiled, and you were too close to melting to the ground. "Thank you," you smiled. You hadn't been complimented on your appearance in a while, even when you were still with Scott.

The drive to the restaurant was short and sweet, and it was a lot nicer than you expected. The outside was clad with windows and the lighting was warm yet intimate. This place was nice. Really nice. As soon as the wait staff saw Max, they led you right through to a cozy booth in the corner.

As you walked, Max tentatively placed his hand on the small of you back and it felt like electricity was pulsing through your veins. You had it, and you had it bad for him. For Max, just getting to take you out to dinner was dizzying after pining after you for all that time.

The plates had just been cleared away, and a thought struck you. "I've got something to show you," you giggled, reaching into your bag and producing the photos you had gotten today. Passing them to him, you noticed how his eyes lit up at the sight of them.

Running his fingers over the features of your child, he felt an overwhelming sense of love fill his heart. Everything about them was perfect, and they looked just like you, even if it was still early on. He mentally reprimanded himself for loving something so small so much, since he didn't feel he had a right to.

The child wasn't his, and nor were you. Something that felt like a pang of jealousy rippled through his body. This was what he had wanted for years, and there was no one better in his mind for him. He didn't care that the child wasn't biologically his, that didn't matter. What mattered was that he would love them like his own and give them, and you, the best life he could possibly provide.

But, he left like he was getting way to ahead of himself. They were only on their first date, and he didn't want to rush anything.

"Wow," was all he could manage to get out as his eyes were transfixed on the tiny face of your baby. He left his mouth slightly agape. You found it adorable at how bewildered he was at the child, and those three precious words were thrown at the front of your mind and you had to swat them away before you blurted anything out.

It was the hormones, you were sure of it.

"Have you thought of any names?" he asked, wanting to know as much as you were willing to tell you. What you didn't need to know, was that he had been brainstorming names the night before. He couldn't help himself.

They were all Dutch names, so he didn't think you'd like them. "Not particularly, I haven't thought about it much to be honest," you told him, "Have you got any suggestions?"

Max pretended to look like he was thinking, and as if he didn't have ideas already. "Is it alright if they're Dutch?"

"Yeah, of course,"

"Aleta is nice, that was popular for a while. Ruben is also nice, not as popular but still," he said, itching to talk more about babies. He had a very bad case of baby fever at the moment. "I like those, a lot," you smiled, enjoying talking about this with someone and, for a few short seconds, it felt like you were two parents talking about your first child together.

"Can I get you two any coffees or desserts?" the cheerful waiter asked, his notepad out ready for your order. "That warm chocolate fudge cake is sounding way to good, so I'll take that, please," you smiled, handing the dessert menu back to the waiter.

"I'm alright, thank you," Max shook his head when the waiter looked to him. "I will take a cappuccino, though," he said. The waiter walked away to the kitchen, ready to hand in your order.

"The things I would do for a coffee," you half complained, half joked, missing the buzz that caffein gave you. "Oh, sorry, I didn't even think," he panicked, ready to call the waiter back over and cancel the coffee. "No, no. I didn't mean it like that. You can have whatever you want,"

A few minutes later, the waiter was back with Max's perfectly brewed cappuccino and set it down in front of him. You found it odd that he didn't touch it for a short while. "You going to drink that, or are you going to tease me?" you laughed.

"I was waiting until yours got here,"

"Oh, start, it'll get cold,".

It wasn't long before your hot chocolate fudge cake was place in front of you, chocolate sauce oozing off the top. You wasted no time tucking into it, and you could tell that Max was staring longingly at it. "You want some?" you asked, seeing as he looked at his now pitiful cappuccino.

"No, it's yours," he shook his head, struggling not to just steal the plate off of you.

"Come on, I know you want some," you said, holding the fork out to him. Without a second glance, he took the bite and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The gooey, chocolate, fudginess was one of the best things he had ever tasted.

"Can I have some more?" he mumbled, earning a hearty laugh from you. As cliche as it sounded, everyone else in the restaurant faded away and all he could hear was the angelic sound of your laugh through the noise.

In the end, you ended up sharing the cake as Max couldn't get enough. He paid the bill, much to your protest, and you headed out to the carpark. The night air was chilling as you walked towards the car, and Max couldn't help but notice the shivers you were having.

Without a second thought, he shrugged his jacket off and draped it over your shoulders. "The car is literally right there," you said, but you admired his gesture a great deal.

"I know, but I can't have you or the baby getting cold." If it wasn't for the darkness of the night, you would see him getting as red as a tomato. "Well thank you, Maxie,"

Max drove you home, dropping you off on the doorstep. "Can I take you out again one night?" he stumbled over his words. He enjoyed taking you out and spoiling you, and he wanted to carry on doing so. "Yeah, I've had a lot of fun. Thank you for dinner, Maxie," you smiled, wanting to bring him in the house, but you both had work the next day.

"Anytime, anytime," he smiled, turning to walk back towards the car.

"Max!" you called out after him, jogging down the stone paving. You draped the jacket back around his shoulders and cupped his cheek with one hand. You swiftly kissed him on the cheek, saying a quick, "Goodnight, Max," before you closed the door.

—

Over the past couple of weeks, you and Max had been on a multitude of dates, most of the time it was more than once a week. You saw each other pretty much every day at work, and talked most evenings over the phone.

You had gone on all sorts of different dates, from movies, to dinners, to boating afternoons. He had even tried to teach you to play golf, but you weren't much good. 

You had a dinner date scheduled tonight, but you really weren't feeling up to it tonight. You had been nauseous and had a heachache all day, so you didn't want to leave the house. Max had asked Christian to send you home early, and he had done exactly that.

However, you didn't want to cancel your date, so you invited him over to yours for movie night. You wore a pair of sweats and the hoodie he gave you; you had the snacks and drinks all set out on the coffee table.

You had already told him to just let himself in, so the sound of the front door opening made ropes of happiness lash your entire being. "Take a seat and get ready for the best night of your life," you smiled as he sat right next to you.

Max knew any night with you would be one of the best, but tonight was the night he wanted to make his move. What the move was? He didn't know yet.

As the movie rolled on and you munched on the snacks, your neck was starting to hurt due to the position you were sat in. You let your neck muscles soften as you rested your head onto Max's shoulder, and you felt him tense up a bit.

But, he was back to being relaxed almost instantly. As the movie went on, Max slung an arm around your shoulders as he tried to build up the courage to tell you he liked you. But, something was still holding him back. He didn't necessarily know if you felt the same.

It was as if you had read his mind, as you plucked up the nerve to grab his hand. You laced your fingers together, and his hand was a lot warmer in yours. He started gently running his thumb up and down and, even though it was small, it was still a soothing gesture.

You stayed like that through the whole movie, until the credits started to roll. Neither of you were really focusing on it, though. You turned your head to rest your chin on Max's shoulder, and you just admired him. He also turned to look at you, a smile spreading across his lips when he met your gaze.

There was no better time, so he leant in until your lips connected. It was instant sparks, until the kiss deepened. You had both been waiting for this, and you didn't want to be the one to end it. Fortunately, Max pulled away and looked at you.

A million thoughts raced through his mind and he wanted to dive straight back into kissing you. "I really like you," he muttered, letting his hand linger on the side of your face. He had just taken the plunge into ice cold water that he had been teetering on the edge of for years.

"I really like you too," you said back. Max had just emerged from the surface of the water and euphoria filled his veins. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked, pulling you closer to you. The feeling of finally getting to hold you in his arms was beyond winning any race or championship, and he never wanted to let go.

"I don't know, Maxie. It's not that I don't like you, because I really do. Like, a lot. But I don't want to rush you because I need something that's forever because I don't want to bring a child up in an environment where there's someone coming and going. They need stability," you explained.

You knew Max would never hurt you on purpose, but you needed a safe, warm, loving environment for your baby. "I get that, and I want to give that to you. You deserve someone to love you, and the baby more than anything else in the world. I want to be that person, and I completely understand if you don't want to accept and wait, because I'll be here," he said.

That was when you had an epiphany. It was like this feeling that everything was finally falling into place and that you were in the right spot in life. You had never felt anything like this with Scott, and your heart was yelling at you, screaming at you to let Max into your life as more than a friend.

Something in your gut knew he was the right one, and you'd be stupid not to accept that. "I want to be your girlfriend, Max. I'd be an idiot not to," you smiled, and the elated look on his face told you you had made the right decision.

He kissed you again with all the love and compassion he had pent up since he first saw you, and he never thought, not in his wildest dreams, that he would get to have you like this. It was pure perfection.

—

"Y/N! Come on, we need to go!" Max shouted up the stairs to you as he stood in the kitchen, fidgeting on the spot out of nervousness. "Max, we don't need to be there for another forty five minutes," you yelled back, finishing wrapping the hair tie around your hair. 

"If we're early, they might let us in sooner," he bartered, standing near the front door to try and hurry you along a bit. "They run on appointments, not first come first serve," you told him, heading down the stairs. 

"Please?" Max pouted, as if he were a small child asking for more sweets, "I'm just really excited," he said as you walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

"I know, so am I," you smiled, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"If we go now, we can go get ice cream," he bargained, placing his hands on your hips and swaying you from side to side. "Can I get a sundae?"

"You can get whatever you want," he reassured, hoping it would win you over and let him take you earlier. "OK, we can go," you said as he bounded out of the front door and to your car door, opening it for you. 

Slipping your arms through the sleeves of your coat, you hopped in the car with him. He held his hand on your thigh throughout the entire drive, and it was his small actions of affection that made you fall even more in love with him every day.

Once you had parked the car, Max practically dragged you through the doors of the doctor's office and checked in. He sat in the chair fidgeting until you were called in. "Max, calm down," you said, placing a hand on his bouncing knee. 

"Sorry, I'm just really excited," he grinned, unable to stop himself from smiling. 

"I'm glad you are." It was refreshing to see someone so excited to be with you as this was the first time you had brought someone to your scan. The nurse came out and called you in and you led down on the bed like always. 

"How are you feeling?" the nurse asked, squirting the gel onto her hands. 

"I'm great thank you," you smiled, watching as Max looked bewildered as he gazed around the room. "Who's this?" she asked.

"This is Max, he's my boyfriend," you said. She knew Max wasn't the father since she was one of the first people to hear about what Scott had done, but she liked the look of him. He seemed put together and polite. 

Instinctively, you lifted your shirt and held your breath as she rubbed the cold substance on your belly. As she manoeuvred the machine over your stomach, Max gripped your hand in glee. His eyes were glued to the screen and the look on his face was priceless. 

On the screen, you could see the body of your child and it was one of the most magical experiences of your life. Peeking at Max, you could see he had tears in his eyes. "Maxie, darling, don't cry," you said, the sight of him crying nearly setting you off.

"I'm sorry, I'm just-" he started, unable to find the words to describe how happy and elated he felt. Seeing that small foetus on the screen filled his heart with so much love and light he was almost full to bursting. 

"It's pretty magnificent, huh?" you asked, averting your eyes back to the screen.

Max still hadn't uncovered the ability to speak, and just nodded with his mouth slightly agape. You printed off two more sets of pictures, one for you and one for Max, and left the doctor's knowing that your baby was perfectly happy and healthy. 

"Ice cream time!" you squealed, clapping your hands.

"Of course, how could I forget?" he smiled, shaking his head. 

—

Max had disappeared upstairs for around twenty minutes, but you didn't really question it. He mentioned something about a phone call, so you just let him do whatever. "Liefde? Can you come here for a second?" he shouted down to you.

"Coming!" you replied, pausing the TV show you were watching and trudging up the stairs. "Yeah?" 

"I'm in here!" he called, his voice carrying from the bedroom. You walked through and saw that there were no lights on anywhere. The bathroom door opened and you saw some candles were lit on the inside. 

From somewhere, Max emerged with a huge bouquet of blood red roses in his hands. "How on Earth have you-" you started, trying not to burst into tears at his gesture. Suddenly, a figure dashed out of wardrobe, downstairs and out of the front door.

"I had a bit of help," he laughed, and you could tell by the sound of the giggle that it was a certain Aussie helping him out while he was in the UK. "Clearly," you playfully scoffed, taking the roses from him and inhaling their sweet scent. 

"What's all this for?" you asked, capturing his lips in yours and giving him a compassionate kiss. "Ik hou van je," he spoke in Dutch, and you just blinked at him. He had been teaching you bits of Dutch, but that was not part of your vocabulary yet. 

"What's ik?" he asked, teacher Max coming out in full swing. 

"I," you slowly said, not able to connect the dots and see where he was going with this impromptu Dutch lesson. "And what is je?" 

"You," you said, squinting at him as you thought. 

"Translate it on your phone," he instructed, the cheeky grin on his face becoming more prominent and hard to conceal. "Ik hou van je," he repeated as you typed it into the translator app. 

Refreshing the page and using different translators, they all gave you those three precious words as the answer. You flashed the phone at Max to get confirmation, and he simply nodded. "Ik hou van je," he repeated a final time.

"I love you too," you said as the words on the screen were blurred with tears of pure, unbridled joy. Scott had never made you feel like this, even when you first made your declarations of love to each other.  Max was special. 

"Let me put those in a vase," he said, plucking the roses out of your hands and running downstairs to water them and set them on the side. You strode into the bathroom, seeing the tub filled up with bubbles and candles dotted around the room. 

He had even sprinkled some rose petals on the top of the froth.

You had just finished stripping off and were about to step into the bath, when you heard rushed footsteps behind you. "Hey, wait for me. The last thing I need is you slipping," Max said, taking your hand and helping you sink into the water. 

It wasn't long before Max was clambering in behind you, pulling you flush against him so your back was to his front. His hands instinctively moved to rest on your swollen stomach, gently massaging the area. 

You allowed yourself to close your eyes and fully relax as Max peppered a few kisses in your hair. "Je bent geweldig," he softly mumbled.

"In het Engels, alsjeblieft," you responded, your brain not being in the mood to try and recall your Dutch. "You're incredible. I can give you some synonyms if you want. You're perfect, amazing, magnificent, spectacular," he started to list, "Do you want me to carry on?"

"Yes, but you probably shouldn't, my ego is inflating a huge deal right now," you smiled. Scott never did these kinds of things, and if you were still with him, you'd be sat in silence, watching TV or something. 

Max was brilliant, and he thought the world of you. There was no better way to spend evenings than with you in his arms and relaxing, away from the prying eyes of the world. 

—

You had just reached the seven month mark and were getting ready to take maternity leave. You were desperate to stay at work to see Max close out the season with a title, and were planning to go to Abu Dhabi with him for the last race.

The doctor had said you could fly and be fine, and you knew Max would be watching you like a hawk for the whole thing.

Today was one of those days when the nausea was lingering throughout, and you were counting down the days until you could leave - even if you could leave whenever you wanted. Max had woken up early with you as you sprang out of bed and were reminded of how much your child loves you.

Having him by your side was the best thing that had happened to you for a while, and it was amazing to not have to go through it alone anymore. He had tried to convince you not to go to work and to stay at home, but you refused. You wanted to carry on your day as normal.

You noticed his eyes on you all day, and he was checking up on you all the time and you couldn't catch a break. Before the end of the season, you were having a meeting with Max, Checo, Christian and some other people in the team.

You had needed to finish something off before the meeting, so you were a few seconds late and all of the chairs in the boardroom were full. You were happy to stand in the corner, but someone wasn't. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted someone standing up. "Y/N," he called, nodding at the chair.

You sat down and Max stood behind you, and you could feel his eyes on the back of your head. Roughly around halfway through the meeting, another, massive nauseous wave washed over you and there was no suppressing it this time.

"Sorry, I'll be back in two minutes," you managed to get out before rushing out of the room and towards the nearest bathroom. Fumbling with the door, you managed to get in just in time and threw up in the nearest toilet.

The door opened up instantly, and your hair was pulled back behind your neck and a hand was rubbing up and down your back softly. It wasn't long before you were done, and you looked up at Max through glassy eyes. "You go back to the meeting, I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile.

"Not a chance, mijn liefde," he said, grabbing some toilet roll and gently dabbing around your mouth. "You're going home, come on," he said, tugging you into a hug.

"It's alright, I'll be fine," you said, the nausea going away after letting it all out.

"No, Y/N. I'm not taking no for an answer, I'm taking you home," he instructed quite forcefully. There was no point in arguing, so you walked out with him, hand in hand. You had only told people in Red Bull and a few close friends about you, but you weren't ready to tell the world yet.

As you walked past the boardroom, Max nodded at Christian and it was enough for him to know that you were going home. Max got you home and escorted you through the door and down onto the couch. "You stay there, and I'll be back in half an hour," he kissed you on the lips, then planted a soft kiss in your hair.

"And you stop making your mommy sick, it's not fair," he laughed, gently rubbing your stomach before he left. Then, there you were, left in the house until Max got back.

—

After the boardroom incident, Christian had forced you to go onto maternity leave early, and he promised he would still pay you for the extra time taken off. Now, you were in the private terminal of the airport, waiting for him to return to your shared apartment in Monaco.

You had flown over to live with him once you had gotten off work, and he was still trying to convince you to be a full time, stay at home mum. Through walked Max, his backpack slung over his shoulder and his features more sunken after his flight from Abu Dhabi.

His stature immediately straightened up when he spotted you walking towards him, "I missed you so much," he whispered into your hair as he held you in his arms. Now, you had him all to yourself for a few months.

"We've missed you more," you said as he moved his hands to your stomach.

"Have they been causing you any problems while I've been away?" he asked, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "No, she hasn't," you smirked, waiting for him to get the hint.

"She?" he beamed, hoping he had heard you correctly. You zealously nodded at him, watching as his face contorted into the happiest expression a man could have on his face. "I love you so much. I love both of you so fucking much," he breathed, holding you as closely and as tightly as he could have.

"I love you too, Maxie,"

—

"Shit I am tired," you huffed, leaning back in the pillows of your hospital bed.

"You did incredibly, lieve," he beamed proudly, kissing you on the forehead. He had just undergone the most magical experience a man could go through, and he was so glad you had allowed him to be here.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Max asked, and you were slightly scared.

"Is this something I want to hear right now," you moaned, that question almost never had a happy ending. "Yes, it is. If not, I completely get it and I respect your decision 100%, but I want to give her my last name," there had been no indication that he wanted to do this, but now it seemed like the best decision you could make for her. He thought he was moving too fast, but it might as well have been now over never. 

Tears brimmed in your eyes, and Max thought you weren't happy about it. It was quite the opposite. You wanted this more than anything. You had someone who was willing to give himself to you and your daughter. "She is your daughter, Max. She's a Verstappen," you happy cried, gazing at her as she slept in the cot in the corner of the room. "And I want you to be one too," he stated, shifting off the chair beside your bed and onto one knee on the floor.

From his pocket, he produced a small, black, velvet box and opened it to reveal the most stunning ring you had ever seen. "I know it's soon, but I want to prove to you that I will be here for you, and our daughter forever and that I love the two of you more than anything in the world," he said, trying to choke back the tears, "Will je met me trouwen?"

There was no confusion with what that phrase meant. "Yes, Max. A million times yes," you said as he slipped the ring on your finger. There was no doubt in your mind that this was the right thing for not only you, but for your daughter. 

Had he been bombarding you with a lot fo life-changing decisions? Yes, but he couldn't resist the perfect opportunity. 

You shuffled up on the bed and pulled Max on with you, resting your head on his chest and letting your weight rest on him. You had had a long few hours, that was for sure. So much had happened, and you were completely drained and needed a lot of sleep to replenish your energy.

"Have you guys decided on a name?" The nurse who was drafting the birth certificate asked.

You took one look at Max and your little angel in the corner, "Aleta Verstappen," you proudly spoke. The nurse smiled and asked for the spelling, which Max happily gave her. It wasn't long before you had fallen asleep and dreamt of the life you had built. 

—

You and Max were woken up by the shrill cry of your daughter ringing through the house. "You stay, I'll go," Max sleepily grumbled, rubbing his eyes and shuffling out of bed. This was your first night back at home since Aleta was born, and you were still unbelievably tired. 

The cries stopped shortly after, but as Max reemerged in the doorway, the screeches continued. You went to get up, but Max turned and went back. Yet again, the cried stopped, and your heart nearly did when Max walked into the room with Aleta held to his chest. It was the most perfect sight. 

"Max, she needs to sleep by herself," you told him, nearly falling back to sleep. 

"It's just one night, liefde," he said, and you were too tired to argue with him. He led back next to you, your newborn snuggly cuddled to his chest. It wasn't long before she was back asleep, and so was Max. Everything was perfection, and the two people in front of you were what mattered the most to you. 

You never thought perfection truly existed, but you were proven wholly wrong as you led there, the difficulties of the past month showing themselves as completely worth it. 

A/N - Do we want a bonus chapter? Or have we had enough after 10k+ words <3. BTW I haven't proof read this...

NO. I like Formula 1 for the lore. I like F1 for the brotherhood that comes with the sport. I like Formula 1 for the found-family trope of it all— what my dad was to Sebastian, he was to me— , I like F1 for the childhood friends— he is one of the only drivers I can call a good friend outside of racing— and for the friendly rivalry— when they win a race we can go to them and say well done, and when we win a race they can say well done. I like F1 for the childhood friends turned rivals turned strangers— ah, well, no, we’re not friends—, I like F1 for the strangers turned soulmates— ofcourse, I’ll miss Yuki—, platonic soulmates, whatever soulmates. I like F1 for the enemies turned life-long friends— His death was the end of my story in Formula 1— I like F1 for the humanity despite the rivalry— The first time I flipped a go kart, George stopped on track to lift it off of me— and I like F1 for the legacy that will carry forth— The marks I left on track will stay until time and rain will wash them away.

chapter four: school’s out

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: seb centric chapter, the girls have seb wrapped around their finger, seb is sooooo cute and in dad mode, a few thoughts verging on nsfw but nothing too graphic, a little closer look into seb and reader’s feeling towards each other, alcohol and the consumption of, lance cameo. - quickly edited, forgive my mistakes <3

Word Count: 4.2k

Author’s Note: now does this gif have anything to do with this chapter? not at all but ferrari seb my beloved. sorry for the million week wait on this one, I’ve been busy :) 

sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist

–

“Are you serious?” You groaned, an arm over your face as you listened to the person on the other end of the line ramble on. 

You had the day off, you and Olivia were gonna do some shopping, rearrange her room and yet, they called you into work. You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “you’re certain there’s no one else that can come in?” You asked. 

The woman replies, “I’m sorry, but you’re the lead architect, they need you.” 

“Fine, give me an hour.” 

It was barely 9am but you figured your usual babysitter, Emily, would be awake. You called and texted, but no answer. The phone was left on the nightstand as you took a shower and when you returned, you see there’s a reply from here. 

From Emily: Hi y/n! I’m so sorry but I won’t be able to watch Olivia today as I’m not in the country. I had mentioned that I was going to Mexico with my boyfriend this week. 

That’s right, she did tell you. With all the rushing, you seem to have forgotten. 

To Emily: yes of course. It slipped my mind, that’s no problem. You two have fun! 

You walk over to Olivia’s room, sitting on the girl’s bed as you rubbed her side. “Love, you gotta wake up.” 

She groaned, rolling over and turning her face into her pillow. “I’m sleeping mama,” she tells you, pulling the blue blanket over her head. You sighed, feeling a little bad that you might have to take her into work with you but what can you do? 

As you get up to pack some of her stuff into her bag, the photo on her nightstand catches your eye; her and Milly.  Okay, so there is one more person you can call before you have to take her for the day. You dial the number, stepping out of her room and your fingers crossed, hoping that he’d pick up. 

“Hello?” You can still hear the sleep in his voice. “Seb, gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, there’s shuffling coming from his end. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I mean, no. I have to ask you for a big favour.  I have a work emergency and they don’t have anyone else they can call to fix it so I have to go in, and my babysitter is outta town. So I was wondering if I could bring Olivia over ?” 

Seb laughs, “yeah, of course. When you said you had a big favour to ask me so early in the day, I thought you were gonna ask me to help to bury a body or jail you outta jail or something like that.” 

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Best one I've read in a while 🤩🤩

red currant | daniel ricciardo

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS MASTERLIST

this is a part 2 of plum but you can read both as standalones if you wish so

summary: Daniel got everything he wished for: his girl became his wife and she gave him the coolest kid he could have ever hoped for, who has the majority of the grid wrapped around her tiny finger.

warnings: my my, I’m sorry for writing Daddy Ric, I broke my own heart in the process. Now I wish this kid really existed.

words count: 5.2k

a/n: I loved writing Plum so much, you have no idea, but I think I truly made a mistake when I took the other request I had and wrote the follow up. This has made me bawl my eyes out at 3am after a long day of work. I usually ain’t sorry for the duress I put you through when I write stuff, but this one? This one, I’m sorry for.

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