Mafia Sebastian Vettel With Fem Reader And An Age Gap Please 🙏😭

Grid Kids: The Series

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Grid Kids

Grid Kids: Awkward Encounters

Grid Kids: Mama Bear

Grid Kids: UNO Reverse Card

Grid Kids: First Times

Grid Kids: She Means Business

Grid Kids: Bun in the Oven

Grid Kids: Gentlemen, a Short View Back to the Past

Grid Kids: The Best Medicine

Grid Kids: Escapades

Grid Kids: Baby-Sitters Club

Grid Kids: Cooties

Grid Kids: Little Racer

Grid Kids: It’s Just a Little Blood

Grid Kids: Mooth Opawata

Grid Kids: Mistaken Identities

Grid Kids: Potty Mouth

Grid Kids: Speak Now

Requests for future installments of Grid Kids are always open

please a landoscar x reader and literally do anything that feels right, putting trust into you

Y'all seen the lie detector thing? That:

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No."

Simon and Lando both looked to Russ. He didn't technically have a girlfriend, so it wasn't technically a lie.

His partners were watching, just off camera. Oscar had his arm over her shoulders as they watched on with baited breath. What would happen if it came out that they were lying? What would happen if the world found out about their perfectly normal relationship that some might view as unconventional?

Russ looked at Simon and Lando. All four of them (including Landos partners) waited, hearts in three of their throats.

But then Russ nodded. Confirming it to the world that Lando Norris did not have a girlfriend.

They didn't know that he had a husband and a wife. But neither of them were his girlfriend, so it wasn't technically a lie.

Oscar couldn't stop himself from grinning at him. Their relationship was private, just the way they liked. Lando was the one into PDA, the one always trying to pull them in for a kiss. Oscar was the one pulling back, trying to keep things private.

Simon readied the next question. These were the ones that he had to get through to get to the racing questions.

"Do you have a bunch of girlfriend's?"

Lando couldn't stop the way he laughed. That shrieking giggle that his husband and wife loved so much.

And, as they watched on, with the world thinking they were just teammates and the girl that hung around them, they fell more and more in love with him.

They both loved that laugh of his, more than words could describe. Could listen to it on a loop over and over again. Oscar squeezed her shoulder as they watched him, and she held her hand against her chest.

Lando was just so fucking cute.

"No," he answered, not sparing a gaze towards them.

Again, there was an anxious moment where they waited. Russ looked around the room, at Lando, at Simon, at her and Oscar and the crew.

And then he shook his head.

Lando let out another shrieking laugh at that. Simply because, the suggestion that he was lying suggested that Oscar was his girlfriend.

Oscar glared at him through the rest of the lie detector test. But none of it was serious. He loved Lando more than anything, even if Lando considered him his girlfriend.

But he'd definitely get him back for that one.

Repost rn.

hands - l.n + o.p

Warnings: Smut, choking, 18+, threesome

Pairing: Lando Norris x Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

Summary: Lando likes how small Oscar’s hands are

“‘We need a hand comparison ASAP’ this one says,” you giggled, showing the phone to Oscar as he groaned. “It’s bullshit,” he scrunched his nose, “Lando’s hands aren’t that big,”. You raised an eyebrow, zooming in on the picture on your screen. “I’d trust the girl who’s had her airways closed by two of his fingers around her throat,” you scoffed as Oscar pushed you gently. “Stop it,” he huffed, just as Lando walked in. “What is it?” the Brit asked, bringing his lips to Oscar’s, then yours. “Y/N has a stupid theory,” Oscar rolled his eyes as you gasped. “It is not stupid!” you hissed, frowning at the Aussie. “Is,” he mumbled with a smile as you pushed him. “Tell me,” Lando said, turning your chin back to him. “Look,” you said, shoving your phone in front of Lando’s face as he read the comments, his eyebrows creasing slightly. 

“A-A hand comparison?” he questioned, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “Yes! Look,” you said, pulling his wrist as you tugged a reluctant Oscar beside him. It was quite the formidable difference, actually. Oscar’s hand was smaller and paler than Lando’s, his nails quite long and his fingers almost dainty. Lando’s hands were much, much bigger, his fingers long and covered in rings, wrists thick and full of bracelets. His nails were trimmed short and hands significantly more tan than Oscar’s. “Aw little baby,” the Brit cooed at Oscar as he scoffed. “Look at Y/N’s hands!” he said, in order to defend himself but Lando brushed it off, bringing his lips against Oscar’ as you watched with delight. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this,” Lando smirked, pulling you between him and Oscar as the Aussie bit down in your neck, causing you to gasp. 

Definitely payback. “Who’s hands do you want round your throat, Y/N?” Lando smiled but you could see through his feigned innocence easier than anything. “Both,” you said simply. Oscar was first to react, his hand jumping to your throat as he pulled you on top of him, so you were riding, cowgirl style. He aligned himself with your entrance, pushing in softly as you gasped, feeling him bottom out. His hands reached for your throat, pulling your chest flat against his as he squeezed slightly, making you gasp. The pressure on your airways was always refreshing during sex. Lando hummed as he watched, his own hand wrapping around Oscar’s neck, much to the surprise of the Aussie. Instead of bringing your lips to his cock like he usually did, he tilted Oscar’s chin upwards, pushing gently into his mouth as Oscar moaned against him, the sudden weight in his mouth adding pleasure as you road him. 

You giggled as you sped up, bouncing as you sent moans through Oscar’s body, his eyes rolling as Lando pushed further into hid mouth, slowly moving back and forth. “Well done,” Lando cooed as Oscar gagged slightly, his cheeks reddening as you felt your high come onto you. With a half shriek, half moan you felt your release, mixed with Oscar’s spill down his body as Lando followed a few seconds after, pulling out of Oscar’s mouth. The Aussie coughed twice, sitting up slightly as d his cheek on Lando’s chest. “Good boy,” Lando kissed Oscar then you as the he painted beneath you, cheeks red and chest heaving. What a gorgeous sight. 

do not forget the patron saint of these weeks that we celebrate ourselves proudly and openly in the streets

her name was Marsha P Johnson, and we have her to thank for so much.

remember, the first Pride was a riot, and she was one of the brave souls who endured it to help carve the path which so many of us walk today. she helped found several activist groups regarding LGBT safety and wellbeing. and she was absolutely radiant, too.

thank you, Marsha. we remember you.

🤭🤭🤭 Jenson he’s such an old man 😮‍💨🤭😫

ok the actual request

so reader jokes and calls Jenson an old man and he’s obviously doesn’t like that so he drags the reader to his drivers room and fucks the reader and he’s like I may be an but I don’t fuck like it 😖🫠🤭

Sorry I rambled but yeah that’s all

A/N: He is a DILF not an old man hehehehe

Jenson hated it when people called him old. He didn't feel old, or even look old. But, after he got glasses to help him drive for Herta, you've taken it upon yourself to tease him over it.

When fans started to notice that you called Jenson old, they also started to call him that, and he was really starting to get annoyed with it. It's not like they were doing it to be mean, he was 40 years old, he much preferred the DILF title than the old title.

Right now he could hear your snicker as he slide his glasses on to read the screen. He just sat in the car and drove for almost 8 hours without stopping to get used to driving for the long hours he might have to do for the team.

Jenson was used to long hours, F1 had some brutal races, but this required different training and his eyes weren't what they used to be and that was okay. He was 40, not 20, unlike these crazy ass kids, he wasn't going to risk it, and if the glasses helped, then they help.

Jenson nods at his engineers, and pats them on the back before walking over to you and smiling. "Hey old man." You greet, a soft smile on your face and now his gentle mood was gone. "Alright, that's it. Come here," Grabbing your wrist he yanks you around the barriers and drags you to his drivers room.

Opening the door with his name on it he pushes you in before slamming the door closed. "You think I'm old, do you?" Jenson takes off his glasses, tossing them onto the couch somewhere. "Oh come on Jenson, you know I don't think you're old," You groan but he stalks forward, sliding off his race suit as he stares at you.

Fuck, you were screwed, he was giving you the look before he was about to fuck you silly. "Off," You swallow and feel yourself get wet as you move sliding off your jeans and then your thong, Jenson palms himself silly before scooping you up and pushing you against the wall.

"Will you be okay?" He asks, not wanting to push you to hard but you nod wanting to feel the sting as he spreads you open. You whine as you feel him reach down and rub his tip coating himself before sliding in. Throwing your head back, you hit on the wall behind you, not caring as you moan loudly, Jenson doesn't stop you as he wanted everyone to hear.

He groans, feeling the heat wrap around him, taking deep breaths before he starts pounding into you, not caring to start with a slow pace. "Jense," You whimper nails racking down is back he doesnt care pressing you between his body and the wall. "Oh fuck," He moans rocking his hips back and forth so hard all you hear is each others moans and the sound of skin slapping.

"Think an old man could fuck you like this?" He grumbles and you blink the tears away, shaking your head no. "No, no of course, fuck!" You cry when Jenson hits the spot where you craved him most. "OH FUCK!" You scream, as Jenson angles his hips to hit that spot over and over.

"Right there, right there." Your words get squeaky as the heat and tingle in your stomach grows more and more. Muscles growing weak, thanking god that you had a man to fuck you this good. "Coming, coming." You whisper, as Jenson hits that spot one more time and groans as you clamp down on him, and he spills inside you groaning, moving his hips again and slowly fucking you through your orgasm.

"Ugh....whose old now," You giggle and sigh. "Not you, now, shower?" You beg, and chuckling he nods pecking your lips. "Always, love."

Ours to Protect

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: life with your boys may be chaotic but, through all the ups and downs, you wouldn’t change it for the world

Warnings: depictions of injury, vague descriptions of pregnancy, and Jos Verstappen being Jos Verstappen

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, the roar of the crowd already audible even from the secure paddock parking area.

Your stomach flutters with nerves and excitement as you smooth down your outfit and head towards the paddock entrance. This is your first race of the season and the reporters and fans are always rabid at the start of a new year.

As you enter the paddock you glance around, looking for Charles or Max but neither are immediately visible in the organized chaos. You clutch your paddock pass, suddenly feeling self-conscious walking through alone.

The other drivers’ wives and girlfriends are already gathered in small groups, greeting each other with cheek kisses as they exchange pleasantries. A few give you sidelong glances as you walk by, no doubt wondering why you’re alone when the rest of them arrived together with their partners.

You keep your head high, ignoring the looks. Your relationship with Charles and Max has been going strong and so far you’ve kept it private, with only close friends and family aware that the three of you are together. The public and the media still think of you as just a friend and you aren’t sure how they would react if they knew the truth. The three of you have discussed going public but agreed it’s better to wait, wanting to enjoy your time together out of the spotlight for now.

Still, you wish Charles or Max were with you as a buffer from prying eyes. You check your phone but there are no new messages. They must both still be busy with their pre-race preparations. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards the Red Bull garage first, figuring you’ll find Max there.

As you approach, you spot a small crowd of reporters loitering near the garage entrance. They perk up as they see you coming, immediately descending upon you with microphones and cameras.

“Y/N! Over here!” One calls out. “Are you here to see Max?”

You stop short, feeling cornered as they form a semi-circle around you. “Um, yes, I’m just heading to the garage to say hi,” you say carefully.

“And what about Charles?” Another reporter asks, eyebrow raised suggestively. “Will you be visiting him in the Ferrari garage as well?”

You freeze, panic rising. Do they know about your relationship? You haven’t been seen together in public yet. “I-I’m friends with both Charles and Max,” you stammer.

“Just friends?” A third reporter chimes in skeptically. “Our sources say you’ve been getting very cozy with the two drivers lately. Care to comment on the rumors that you’re stringing them both along?”

You take a step back, heart pounding as their questions come rapid-fire.

“Are you cheating on one with the other?”

“How long do you think you can keep this charade going before they realize?”

“Doesn’t it bother you, playing with their feelings like this?”

Their accusations hit you like blows, your anxiety spiking as you find yourself backed up against a wall, cameras flashing in your face. This is your worst fear come to life. You look around desperately for an escape but find only unsympathetic faces staring back at you, judging you.

“I … I have to go,” you gasp out, ducking your head and pushing your way blindly through the crush of bodies. You can hear them calling out more questions but you block it out, focused only on getting away. You’re shaking and feel sick, tears pricking at your eyes.

Is this what it will be like if you ever go public? This is exactly why you wanted to keep it quiet.

Suddenly you collide with a solid chest. Strong hands grasp your shoulders and you look up with a start to see Max gazing down at you, concern creasing his brow.

“Whoa, schatje, what happened?” He asks. He glances over your shoulder at the reporters who have reluctantly backed off but are still hovering nearby. Max’s jaw tightens as he seems to grasp the situation.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say shakily, embarrassed by your reaction.

Max studies your face, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he says gently, keeping an arm wrapped securely around you as he guides you away from prying eyes.

Once you’re safely inside the Red Bull motorhome, Max steers you over to a quiet corner and helps you sit. Crouching down in front of you, he brushes a strand of hair back from your face. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You take a shuddering breath, willing yourself to calm down. “The reporters ambushed me outside. They started accusing me of stringing you and Charles along. I just panicked and had to get out of there.”

Max’s face darkens. “Those goddamn vultures. What the hell gives them the right ...” He cuts off his tirade with a sigh, taking your hands in his. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that alone. I should have been there with you.”

You give him a shaky smile. “It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Max kisses your forehead. “Let me go talk to Charlie so he knows what happened. I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nod gratefully. After Max leaves you take deep breaths, willing your racing heart to settle. You knew the secrecy couldn’t last forever but you weren’t prepared for the cruelty of those reporters. The idea of having to face that regularly if you go public makes you feel ill.

You’re lost in thought when another familiar voice says your name. Looking up you see Charles hurrying over, the same concerned look on his face that Max wore earlier. You stand and Charles immediately folds you into a tight hug.

“Are you alright, ma belle?” He murmurs. “Max told me what happened.”

You cling to him, taking comfort in his embrace. “I’m okay now. Just a bit shaken up.”

Charles’ jaw is tight as he pulls back to look at you. “I’m so sorry I was not there. I should have been with you.” His hand comes up to cup your cheek tenderly.

You cover his hand with your own. “You couldn’t have known. I’m the one who decided to come alone like an idiot.”

Charles starts to argue but you cut him off. “Let’s not play the blame game, okay? I just want to put it behind me.”

Charles presses his lips together but nods. “Of course. As long as you are alright.” He kisses your forehead sweetly. “I will not leave your side for the rest of the day, I promise.”

You give him a small but genuine smile. “Thank you.”

Just then Max returns. “How is she doing?” He asks Charles quietly.

“A bit better I think. Still shaken though.”

Max nods, his eyes stormy. “I warned the press to back the hell off but I doubt they’ll listen.”

Your heart sinks. The last thing you want is them continuing to hound you every race. You bite your lip. “Maybe … maybe we should just tell them the truth.”

Max and Charles exchange a surprised look. “Are you sure?” Charles asks cautiously. “We do not have to do anything until you are ready.”

You take a breath. “I’m not really. But I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder constantly either, you know? And I hate feeling like we have to hide.” You look between them. “I mean, only if you both are comfortable with it too. But maybe it’s time.”

Max considers you thoughtfully. “I’m ready when you are. I’m tired of sneaking around too. If this is what you want, I’m with you.” He glances at Charles who nods.

“Oui, I agree. I do not enjoy the secrecy either. I am ready to tell the world you are both mine.” Charles smiles and pulls you close again.

You let out a shaky laugh. “Well it’s definitely not going to be easy, but with you two by my side, I’m ready.” You take each of their hands, feeling emboldened.

Charles grins and kisses your cheek. “Then let’s do this.”

The three of you head out of the garage hand in hand. You hold your head high as you approach the still lingering reporters, flanked on either side by your boys. Their steady presence gives you courage.

The reporters perk up excitedly seeing the three of you together, shouting questions, but you ignore them. At an unspoken signal you all stop and turn to face the cameras head on.

Charles leans in and kisses you sweetly, then Max does the same, before kissing each other with you sandwiched firmly between them. You smile against their lips, the action speaking louder than any words. Then, without giving the reporters time to process what just happened, you continue walking down the paddock, leaving behind an audience with their jaws on the floor.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as their shocked reactions fade behind you. Let them talk. You have everything you need right here. Wrapping your arms around your boys, you head off to face the rest of the day, and your future, together.

No more hiding. The world knows now. And you’ve never felt more free.

***

The morning sun filters in through the curtains, stirring you awake. You stretch leisurely, reaching across both sides of the large bed only to find it empty. The faint clinking of dishes filters in from outside the room — your boys must be up already making breakfast.

Smiling sleepily, you drag yourself out of bed and shuffle towards the kitchen, eager for coffee. As you enter, you find Charles at the stove scrambling eggs while Max sets the table.

Charles glances up with a grin. “Bonjour, ma belle. Sleep well?”

You hum affirmatively, accepting the mug of coffee Max hands you with a quick peck on the lips. “What time is it?”

“Just after 9,” Max says. “We were going to let you sleep in but breakfast is ready.”

You sip your coffee, leaning back against the counter. “That’s okay. I wanted to go to the farmer’s market this morning anyway. Care to join me after we eat?”

“I wish I could, but I have a training session in an hour,” Charles says regretfully.

Max shakes his head too. “And I have a sponsor meeting.”

You pout playfully. “Fine, abandon me to go shopping alone.”

Charles chuckles. “We would never. But duty calls today unfortunately.” He plates the eggs with some toast and you all sit down to eat.

After breakfast, you quickly get ready while Max and Charles clean up. Emerging from the bedroom, you grab your purse and find them waiting to walk you out.

“Have fun at the market,” Max says, kissing your cheek. “Get some of those apricot tarts I like.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Only if you’re good.”

Charles hugs you tightly. “Be safe out there. Call if you need anything, yes?”

“I’ll be fine!” You assure him with a laugh. With a final wave, you head out the door and down to the lobby.

Stepping outside, you pause in confusion. A large crowd is gathered in front of your building. Fans, you realize. But how did they find your address?

Your heart sinks. Ever since going public, you’ve dealt with heightened interest and gossip. But this feels like a violation of privacy. Biting your lip uncertainly, you start trying to weave through the crowd towards the market down the block.

Immediately people press in excitedly around you. “It’s her!” You hear someone shout. Camera phones are suddenly in your face as people call out questions.

“How does being with the two of them work?”

“Be honest, do you prefer Max or Charles?”

You keep your head down, trying not to engage. Their invasive questions make your skin crawl. “Excuse me, please let me through,” you say as politely as you can.

But the crowd only seems to grow more aggressive, everyone shoving to get close and fire off more intrusive questions about your relationship. You feel hands grabbing at you and start to panic.

“Please, I need to get by,” you say, shrinking away from the grasping hands. But the crowd surges and someone shoves you hard from behind.

You cry out as you fall forward, directly into the path of an exuberant fan. Blinding pain explodes in your temple as her flailing elbow catches you across the face.

You hit the ground hard, vision graying out. Dazed, you try to curl into a protective ball as feet trample around you, completely oblivious.

“Stop, please!” You sob, blood dripping from your throbbing temple. But the crowd is a living entity now, crushing in on you. This is a nightmare.

Suddenly you hear a roar over the din. “GET BACK!”

The footsteps stutter to a halt as the authoritative voice bellows again. “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER!”

Then Max is there, somehow muscling his way through the press of bodies to drop to his knees beside you. His face is thunderous as he quickly but gently gathers you into his arms.

“Fucking animals,” he spits, glaring venomously at the stunned crowd as you cling to him desperately. “I’ve got you, just hold on.”

Over Max’s shoulder you can see Charles forcibly holding the fans at bay, yelling expletives in a jumbled mess of three languages. The path clears as Max carries you swiftly back into your building.

Once inside the apartment, Max lays you gently on the couch, hands feather-light as he examines your injuries. His jaw clenches when he sees the gash bleeding heavily at your temple.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says tightly. “This needs stitches.”

You nod weakly, letting him press a towel to stanch the bleeding while Charles comes bursting in, swearing violently when he sees the blood.

“What the hell happened?” He demands, kneeling beside you. His touch is infinitely gentle though as he brushes hair from your face.

“Got mobbed by those goddamn stalkers outside,” Max growls. “One of them elbowed her in the head.”

Charles’ expression darkens dangerously. You’ve never seen him look so livid before.

“We’ll deal with them later,” Max says firmly. “Right now we need to get her to the emergency department.”

Charles nods, visibly reigning in his anger. “You’re right, of course.” He looks back at you, anger fading to concern. “Are you able to stand, chérie?”

You cry out as simply trying to sit up sends shooting pain through your head. Charles’ jaw ticks as he looks ready to rush back outside and fight the crowd himself, before he easily lifts you into his arms, Max holding the cloth to your cut as they carefully get you down to the garage.

The car ride passes in a haze of pain and you cling to Charles in the backseat while Max drives, exhaustion hitting you.

At the hospital, Max scoops you up, carrying you inside despite your mumbled protests that you can walk. He ignores you, striding right up to the intake desk.

“She needs help now,” he snaps. The no-nonsense tone of his voice has nurses springing into action immediately.

Before you know it, you’ve been whisked off for scans and then into an exam room. A kind faced doctor stitches up your wound carefully while Max and Charles hover protectively on either side.

“Any other injuries?” The doctor asks gently.

You shake your head. “Just some bruises I think.”

She pats your leg. “I’d still like to do a full workup, including a pregnancy test, before we proceed with any other treatment or medication.”

Your eyes widen. With everything going on, your period being late hadn’t even registered. But now that she mentions it ...

Charles and Max go still beside you. “Pregnancy test?” Charles asks tightly.

The doctor smiles reassuringly. “Standard procedure. I’m sure it’s just a precaution.”

Charles grabs your hand, tension radiating off him while you wait on the results. Max paces like a caged animal until the doctor returns. Her kind eyes immediately give it away.

The tests come back quickly and the doctor steps back in to review the results. “No signs of fracture or serious head injury, that’s good news. We’ll get you a prescription for the laceration and ...” she trails off, looking at the chart with a slight frown.

You feel Max and Charles tense on either side of you. “What is it?” Max asks sharply. “Something wrong?”

The doctor looks up. “No, nothing wrong. Just unexpected. The bloodwork indicates that you’re pregnant, about 8 weeks along.”

“Mon dieu,” Charles breathes, stunned. Max ceases his pacing, mouth agape. They both turn to you with myriad emotions swirling in their eyes.

“A baby?” Max says hoarsely. “We’re having a baby?”

You place a hand over your still flat stomach, head spinning. “I guess we are.”

Charles lets out an incredulous laugh and surges forward to capture your mouth in a fierce kiss. When he pulls back, his eyes are blazing.

“They could have hurt our child,” he says darkly. You can see the protectiveness rising in him, mixed with anger at those who endangered his baby.

Max’s expression mirrors Charles’ stormy one. “Those goddamn animals,” he spits. “If anything had happened ...” His hands fist at his sides.

You reach for them both. “But nothing did,” you remind them gently. “We’re both okay.”

They take deep breaths, focusing back on you. Charles rests his forehead against yours while Max kneels to press a kiss to your belly.

“We won’t let anyone hurt you again,” Max vows fiercely. “Either of you.”

Charles nods, jaw set. “We will keep you both safe, I swear it.”

Their protectiveness makes you feel warm and cherished. You know with your boys watching over you, nothing can touch you or your child.

“I know you will,” you say softly. Drawing their faces down, you kiss them each lovingly.

A fierce joy lights their eyes now as the shock fades. You’re having a baby, the three of you. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together as a family.

Charles presses one more kiss to your lips, tender and full of promise. “I love you so much, all three of you,” he whispers.

Max squeezes your hand, eyes blazing. “I love you too. More than I ever thought possible.”

“And we,” your hand drifts to your still-flat stomach, “love you. My brilliant boys.”

***

The paddock buzzes with excitement on race morning, but for once it has nothing to do with fast cars or famous drivers. All eyes turn your way as you make your way through, one hand resting on your growing bump.

At five months along, your pregnancy is impossible to hide anymore. You’d managed to keep it quiet for a while, but last week an overly zoomed paparazzi shot of you in a fitted dress had let the secret out. Now it seems everyone has an opinion on your relationship dynamic and who the father might be.

You keep your head high, ignoring the whispers. Charles and Max wanted to shield you completely, but you refused to be stuck at home or made to feel ashamed. Besides, their steady presence on either side of you is comfort enough.

Charles presses a supportive hand to your lower back. “How are you feeling, chérie?”

You give him a reassuring smile. “We’re good.” Over your head, his eyes meet Max’s, a silent conversation passing between them. Their protectiveness has ramped up tenfold since finding out you’re pregnant.

Nearing the Red Bull garage, Max steers you towards the bathroom. “I’ll meet you inside in a minute, okay? I just need to check in with my engineers first.”

You nod, squeezing his hand before separating. As you exit the bathroom shortly after, a commotion down the paddock draws your eye. Even from a distance, the man’s imposing figure is recognizable. Your heart drops into your stomach.

Jos Verstappen.

He’s gesturing angrily at a retreating figure, who you realize with dread is Max. You’ve never actually met Max’s father, but from what you’ve heard, the man is bad news. Max has only mentioned him in the past tersely, a shadow passing over his face. Whatever he suffered as a child at Jos’ hands seems to have left deep scars.

As you watch, Jos suddenly wheels around and stalks towards the Red Bull garage, no doubt having caught sight of Max going in. Swearing under your breath, you hurry after him. There’s no way this confrontation ends well.

Inside the garage, the mechanics fall silent at Jos’ dramatic entrance. He pays them no mind, making a beeline for Max, who has gone rigid. You slip in behind Jos, catching Charles’ eye where he stands with the Ferrari crew down the pitlane. His brow furrows in concern but you give a small shake of your head — let Max handle this first.

“Max.” Jos’ tone could freeze over hell. “Care to explain what the hell is going on?”

Max’s face shutters. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”

“The hell you don’t!” Jos snaps. “I had to find out from the goddamn gossip rags that not only are you whoring around with multiple people, but one of them is pregnant? Have you no shame?”

Max flinches, looking stricken. Your hands curl into helpless fists at your sides.

“Watch yourself,” Charles suddenly growls, appearing behind you.

Jos whirls on him with a nasty sneer. “Stay out of this, playboy. This is between me and my son.” He turns back to Max. “Well? Explain yourself.”

Max seems to steel himself, straightening his spine. “There’s nothing to explain. What we have is no one’s business but our own.” His eyes flick to you and Charles briefly and soften before hardening again on his father.

“Bullshit!” Jos snaps. “Have you lost your mind? Carrying on with that girl while she whores around with this one too?” He jabs a finger at Charles then points at your belly. “And you’re telling me you’re fine possibly raising another man’s bastard as your own?”

Max’s expression darkens and he steps forward menacingly. “Watch. Your. Mouth.”

Charles moves closer too, vibrating with anger, but you grab his arm, shaking your head again. Let Max stand up to his father himself.

“We don’t care about who the biological father is,” Max continues fiercely. “That’s our child, no matter what. We’re a family.”

Jos scoffs. “A family? You’re delusional. What happens when those two get bored and leave you behind? This little fantasy you’re living is going to destroy your career.”

“You’re wrong,” Max says sharply. “I love them, and they love me. I’ve never been happier than with them.” His eyes soften again as he looks at you and Charles once more. “I don’t need or want anything else.”

Jos’ lip curls derisively. “Pathetic. I didn’t raise you to be so weak. This ends now, before you ruin your life even more. You will get rid of her and end things with the boy too.”

Charles growls, shaking off your restraining hand to storm forward. But Max beats him to it, getting right in Jos’ face.

“No,” he says, so firmly it brokers no argument. “You don’t control my life anymore. I won’t let you tear apart my family. Now get the hell out of my garage before I have you removed.”

For a moment Jos just gapes, clearly not expecting Max to stand up to him. His face purples with rage but before he can respond, security is there grabbing him by the arms.

“I think it’s time for you to go, sir,” one says firmly, already hauling Jos away.

He struggles in vain, spluttering furiously. But Max has already dismissed him, turning away. Only once Jos is gone does Max seem to deflate, shoulders slumping.

In an instant, you and Charles are both there, wrapping him in your arms. He clutches you both desperately, face buried in your hair.

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that,” you murmur, smoothing a hand over his back.

Charles presses a kiss to his temple. “You were very brave, mon amour. I’m proud of you for standing up to him.”

Max huffs out a shaky laugh. “Didn’t feel very brave. But I meant what I said — I’m not letting anyone take either of you away from me.”

He pulls back to meet your eyes earnestly. “You are my family now. The only thing that matters to me.” His hand comes to rest gently on your belly. “All three of you.”

Emotion clogs your throat and you see Charles blink back tears. You both lean in simultaneously to kiss Max’s cheeks.

“We love you so much,” you whisper fiercely. “And we’ll always be a family, no matter what.”

Charles nods. “You are stuck with us now. We are yours, just as you are ours.”

The last of the tension bleeds from Max’s frame and he gifts you both with a brilliant, beautiful smile. Leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes shine with happy tears.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he says softly. “I have everything I’ll ever need right here.”

You smile through your own tears, heart overflowing. Together, wrapped in the safety of each other’s love, you know everything will be okay.

T(raumatized)F(riends) 141

11:23 pm

y/n: feeling like shit, anyone wanna come over and cuddle?

y/n: jk

11:27 pm

y/n: ,,why is there knocking on my door??

Ghostie: Open it.

Sunshine 1🧼: we brought snacks!

Sunshine 2🧢: and blankets~

y/n: I-

Price: Just open the door so we can cuddle you, sweetheart.

y/n: yes sir o7