𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part six max verstappen x reader (angst) “… when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

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"Let's start the bidding at $500,000. Do I have 500,000?" 

"500,000,"

"Thank you, 500,000. Do I hear 600,000? 600,000?"

You held back the urge to lean your head on your hand, leaning back in the chair and resting your hands on your lap instead. This wasn't your natural environment. Not a setting you were confident in.

But when your boss calls in sick; who better to replace him and represent your company, Cisco, for a few team-sponsored outings than you? Sure, you weren't a fan of fancy balls and expensive auctions, but you did like going to Silverstone for a free Grand Prix ticket. What's better than a paid week of vacation in the UK to socialize with rich people and watch a Formula One race free of charge?

"700,000," Lando called, raising his number. You chuckled softly at the unimpressed look Zak Brown gave his driver. You'd been sitting with the two McLaren team members and other sponsor representatives, after all, that was what you were here to do.

"You're going to finish all your money," Zak commented, gulping down his glass.

"Shh! I need that car," Lando hushed, concentrating on the auctioneer before raising his number and shouting a bigger number than the last person. "One point two million!"

You playfully rolled your eyes at the driver's competitiveness. Taking a sip from your champagne glass, you listen to Lando and two other people fight over the Ford Thunderbird. When Lando called a difficult two million you thought he'd finally take it home when there were no objections, until…

"Three million," you froze at the voice. It was one you've come to be very familiar with, one you've come to love chatting with while wearing headphones in your bed at night or sitting at your sim on weekends.

"Sold to the Gentleman—" you let the world around you blur as you pulled your phone out, glad that the brightness of your screen was at its lowest.

He didn't mention going anywhere when you chatted this morning. What would Amilian be doing here? You were sure it was his voice. It couldn't have been anyone else's. But what would bring him here?

It would make sense though. The Red Bull headquarters is in Britain and this is a motorsport event. Maybe he had been dragged out here in a similar situation to you. Or maybe he was here on his own accord for fun.

la. — I think I just heard your voice?? la. — Did you just buy an old red ford?

amilian. — ?? amilian. — What? Where are you? amilian. — nvm i see you

la. — where are you?????

amilian. — when the dance floor opens, stand aside and i'll come to you

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You read the message over and over again in your head as you stood aside, watching as people gathered to pile onto the dance floor as music started playing.

Your eyes desperately searched the attending faces for a face you didn't even know. The thought lingered in your head, would you be able to know your Amilian if you saw him? You were sure you would even if it sounds impossible.

Is Amilian a friend? He couldn't just be a friend. Did you feel more towards him? That's an insane thing to think. You haven't met before and have only conversed on the internet. You can't like a guy you met online.

What if he's been catfishing you this entire time? What if he's not your type? What if he is your type? What if he's tall and has a beautiful smile? What if his touch is just as gentle and soft as his voice— what if you're not his type?

"Champagne?" the voice came from behind you, accompanied by a gentle caress of your back. The chuckle that left his lips when you jolted in surprise sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel his smirk as he gently held the glass for you to take. It was definitely your Amilian.

You couldn't dare to turn and look. Instead, you silently took the champagne glass from his warm hands with a small anxious sip and looked at the crowd of dancing rich people.

It's when you feel his hand pull from your back and instead drape a necklace around your neck did you move confused. You touched the silver jewelry with confusion and recognition.

This was your necklace. The one you'd forgotten at Max's when you stayed the night at his apartment. How'd Amilian get it? Or were you so overconfident in your ability to recognize your Amilian that you forgot the fact that other people know you? Because apparently, you recognized wrong.

"Max, hi," You greeted with a blush once you'd turned to see who was there. "Thank you," You smiled, looking down at the necklace that completed your outfit.

Max felt his cheeks warm once he saw your soft smile. He felt the pain he's been feeling in his stomach for the past three months subside. A relief that he could only describe as the momentary relief addicts get during relapse. The firework-like euphoria in his heart made all the waiting worth it.

"I was going to give it to your boss to give it back to you," He says with a hand gesture, his other hand gently returning to the small of your back. "But I'm glad I got to return it to you myself," He smiled.

You smiled back, feeling your cheeks heat with a blush that you hoped the Dutchman didn't notice. "Thank you so much, Max. I owe you."

"Can't argue with that." Max felt his smile widen at your offer, his heart fluttering at the sound of your voice he's come to adore. "Maybe I could have this dance?" He took a step towards the ballroom feeling excitement rush through him.

Max couldn't believe that he'd get a chance to dance with you. He tried to keep his smile from getting too big or show the amount of excitement he was feeling. This felt like a dream come true, finally. Like a scene out of a Disney movie. The room was starting to disappear as he looked into your eyes, but the world returned into focus quickly once he saw you didn't step forward with him.

"I'm actually waiting for someone," You mumble, nervously twirling a strand of your hair around a finger.

Crack! Max felt his heart squeeze and a painful feeling rush in his chest and his stomach. He felt jealous, angry and in pain at the same time. Jealous of himself. Anger for putting himself in this situation and that Amilian existed. And pain from the fact that you preferred his alter-ego over him.

"Amilian, right?" He asked. You felt a wave of anxiousness at the way the excitement and joy washed from Max's body language, replaced by something you couldn't quite recognize, something dark and frustrated.

"How did you—" You stuttered in surprise, voice trailing off and eyes wide. Why wouldn't he know Amilian? They work together. Amilian literally got Max into baggy pants for you— "Y-you know Amilian?"

"Let's take a walk," Max suggested after a hesitant breath. His hand remained on your back as he gestured to a hall away from the crowds of people. You took a moment to think before letting his gentle and soft touch lead you away.

Your head is filled with confusion, embarrassment and uncertainty. Questions ran through your mind as your eyes looked at the hung paintings you passed. You feared that you'd left Amilian back there and he was looking for you. The halls were quiet as you walked with Max.

Was this a prank? Did the two boys team up to give you a scare? Did Max know something you didn't? Was Amilian chickening out and had told Max to come to you instead?

"You know, La, I like blue on you more."

Your body froze dead in your tracks once you heard the third word that passed his tongue and lips. Max froze in his spot two feet in front of you as well. He didn't dare to turn back and look at you. And you didn't dare look up at him. Only one person calls you that.

You could feel the Dutchman turn around, silence enveloping the hall as the beating of your heart got louder and louder.

"It's me," Max tried to say quietly. He tried to reach for your cheek and pulled his hand away quickly when you put your hands on your mouth. He could see your eyes widen with shock at his confirmation.

"I'm sorry, I meant to tell you—" You couldn't hear him ramble and try to explain himself. Your brain was working too fast trying to process and correct the past.

You criticized Max Verstappen's fashion choices in front of him. You sim-raced and played games with him. You vented about your work to him. Scratch all that. Max Verstappen has been your best friend for the past two years?

You have confided in the three-time world champion. Spilt your secrets to an important man like him. You have talked about him to his face, whether it's admiring or crushing on him or cussing him out for hogging wins. You confessed how you loved him because you saw yourself in him, to his ear. You've done so many things that made you feel so embarrassed.

And when Max tries to catch you as you turn and make a run for it, he quickly gives up as the world comes crashing on him and he starts going through withdrawal again. He watches you run and stumble on your heels before turning a corner for the exit.

Anguish and grief filled Max's chest, which he gripped tightly as tears fell from his eyes and silent sobs racked his chest.

proof reading credits to the amazing @classiclitfreak <3

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.

The only flag I associate with

Rule Breaker - Pt 6

max Verstappen x single mom!reader (with logan sargeant)

{masterlist}{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, minimally proofread, implied sexual situations Summary: you can start a family who will always show you love, you don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own word count: 1927 auth.note: made the executive decision to not have actual smut in this fic due to multiple reasons (the main one being the thought of having smut then a scene involving a kid gives me the ick) spotify: i made a playlist

Logan was gentle. She appreciated that so much and told him so in the breathless moments spent in his arms.

He hummed, fingers tracing her back. "What do you mean?"

Y/n shifted so she could look up at him. "I don't know if I can explain it. Like… It was intense, but…"

He kept silent, fingers still tracing random patterns along her spine.

She sighed, trying to find the right words. "I just… Thank you for treating me like you care."

Logan frowned, his fingers going still. "I do care, though."

"Lo—"

"Did you think I didn't?" He sighed when she began to pull away. "Wait, no, don't."

She stopped, turning back to him at the touch of his hand to her shoulder.

"I'm not…" He let out a mirthless chuckle, his cheeks staining pink. "I'm not good at talking about my feelings. I usually prefer to just… Show it."

She closed her eyes and her mind flashed with him being nothing but kind and caring. It was what had drawn her to him, had made her want to be around him more, and had her wanting to invite him into her life. "I'm sorry," she murmured, opening her eyes.

He was smiling, that crooked half-smile that sent her heart into a silly tumble. "I care, y/n."

"I know you do. I'm sorry, Logan." She sighed, shaking her head. "I ruined pillow talk, huh?"

"You're just in your head, I get it." He was still holding her shoulder and trailed his hand down to hers. "C'mon."

Within seconds she was curled at his side, his arm around her again. His fingers resumed their earlier tracings, and she hummed, feeling content.

Cared for.

She liked that he didn't mind lying together in silence. Liked that he seemed just as content as she. Liked the quiet, the peacefulness she felt with him after that initial rush of butterflies.

His fingers danced over her back then smoothed her hair, and he hummed softly, letting out a sigh that was a balm to her weary soul.

"I care," he whispered.

"I care, too," she whispered back.

"Do you have to get back?" he asked after several moments had passed.

She thought of the texts she'd exchanged with Ellie, who'd insisted she enjoy herself. She was pretty sure her friend was more excited about the prospect of her having sex than *she* was. "No… I can stay a little longer."

"How about 'til morning?" Logan suggested.

She heard the underlying suggestion and smiled. "I'd like that."

There wasn't awkwardness. Well, a little, but he made it so easy to laugh it off. It was one reason she liked him so much, his ability to make her feel at ease. He didn't mind that she had to check in with Ellie, who reassured her that everything was fine and to enjoy herself. He didn't mind that she wanted to take a quick shower. When she stood there in his bedroom, feeling exposed and weird in a towel, he got her a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to wear.

And when they were falling asleep and she tentatively moved close, he smiled against her forehead and held her close.

She tried to sleep, tired and content as she was. But it avoided her, even after he'd drifted off, his gentle breathing warm and soft in her hair. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Something was missing. Some tiny piece that would make everything perfect.

Shifting, she tried to find a comfortable position, frowning in the darkness. Her night had been so close to perfect. He cared for her, she cared for him. He made her laugh, made her feel light and happy. He adored her son, and she knew her son worshipped the ground Logan walked on.

What, then, was missing?

*Casual* day at the factory. Max had rolled his eyes when it had been announced, thinking at the time that he wouldn't be around anyway.

But here he was, wondering what, exactly, made the day casual. Everyone was dressed as they normally were. Everyone was working. Everyone was acting as they usually did. Everyone—

"Max!"

Oh, that was something different. Grinning as Kevin ran up to him, he swept the boy up and hugged him, carrying him back towards his mother. "You helping mum work?"

Kevin giggled. "No! Here waiting."

Y/n smiled affectionately. "Ellie's picking him up in a little bit, she had a doctor's appointment."

"Everything okay?" he asked, setting Kevin down and steering him to y/n's office before he could wander off. Taking the backpack from her so she could open the door, he slung it over his shoulder.

"She's finally seeing someone about her migraines." Y/n held up her hand, showing her crossed fingers.

"I hope they can help," Max sighed, knowing her friend suffered from migraines frequently.

"Me too. I—" She cut off, glancing at the phone in her hand when it began to ring. "Gotta get this, it's about something I'm planning for Barcelona."

"Mama…"

Max recognized the tone. "I'll take him."

She smiled her thanks, answering the call and stepping further into her office.

Kevin was squirming by the time they got to the restroom. Max turned to give him privacy, frowning when he heard nothing.

"Uh-oh."

He turned, heart clenching at the heartbrokenness in the boy's voice. "Kleine maate?"

Kevin looked down and began twisting his hands anxiously. "Didn't make it."

Max's frown deepened, feeling a wave of sympathy when he saw the small puddle on the floor and heard the boy's fretful sigh. "It's alright, mate."

"Wanna be a big boy," Kevin mumbled.

Max squatted down, setting the backpack next to him and opening it to find the spare clothes he knew y/n kept for times like this. "I know, but accidents happen, yeah?"

Kevin sniffled. "Yeah."

Lifting his head, he met a pair of teary eyes and felt his throat close.

Stupid boy. I taught you better.

He swallowed, wondering how he could ever be expected to yell at a child. Especially for something like this. "Maate, listen to me."

Kevin sniffled harder, nodding.

"It's fine. You're still learning, yeah?" He spoke gently, wanting – needing – the boy to know he wasn't upset with him. And he had to know for sure. He already knew, but he had to be certain. "Your mum doesn't get mad when you have an accident does she?"

"No." Kevin rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "But I don't like it."

"Accidents happen. Nobody likes them, but we just clean up the mess and try to do better, yeah? You think I always do things right when I'm racing?" As he spoke he mopped up the puddle then helped Kevin change out of his wet shorts.

"Yeah?" Kevin looked at him as though it were a stupid question.

"I don't. I mess up a lot. But you can't let accidents or mess ups keep you from trying."

Kevin sniffed and nodded. "Okay."

"I know you're upset with yourself, but remember that it's okay, yeah?" Max gestured to him. "It's fixed now."

Nodding again, Kevin flung his arms around Max's neck.

Max sighed, wrapping the boy in a hug and holding him close. "You're alright, hm? No harm done."

"Sorry Daddy," Kevin mumbled against his shoulder.

He froze, throat closing with emotion again. Daddy. The term, the affection needed to be called that… He closed his eyes, tightening his hold on the boy. "It's okay, kleine maate. Let's get our hands washed then back to mum, yeah?"

Daddy.

I don't have a daddy.

He helped Kevin was his hands, somehow keeping his voice normal as they chatted about the upcoming race week, even promising to pick up something Spanish for him. They made their way back to y/n's office and Max couldn't help the fond smile on his face as Kevin told his mother he'd had an accident.

"But Daddy helped," the boy finished with a bright smile.

His heart lurched up to his throat then fell to his feet as she raised her eyes to him.

"Thank you," she managed after twelve long seconds.

He knew the exact time, because he counted them. And he was sure his heart beat only four times as he waited for her words.

"No problem," he murmured, setting Kevin's backpack down.

She turned her attention back to Kevin, her tone gentle as she reassured him and promised it was okay, kissing the boy's forehead before telling him to play with his cars until Ellie got there.

Max's heart gave a weak thump as she straightened. "Y/n…"

"Later," she said, her throat working as she swallowed hard.

Later was a lot later than he'd imagined it would be. Standing outside the door of her apartment, he huffed, rubbing his hand through his hair as he hesitated. He should be on the way back to Monaco, should be focusing on the upcoming days in Barcelona, but all he could think about was the look of horror and surprise when her son had called him Daddy.

He knocked softly, knowing Kevin was probably asleep, and Ellie probably was too, and maybe even—

"Max?" Y/n's voice was incredulous as she opened the door. "What are—"

"I didn't tell him to call me that," he said in a rush.

She blinked, realization finally lighting in her eyes. "Oh. It's okay."

Okay? Okay?! It was all he'd been able to think about all evening and all she could say was it's okay?

"But it can't happen again," she was saying.

Two words fell out of his mouth without even the slightest hesitation. "Why not?"

She stared at him, eyes widening. "You're not his father, Max."

"I know that—"

"God, you're not even my—" she pressed her lips together tightly. "You're just a coworker."

If she'd pushed a blade into his heart it would have hurt less. "Y/n, please, just listen—"

"No, you listen! I can't do this back and forth anymore. One day you want to be 'professional' and the next you're inviting us into your life." Her voice wavered and he felt his breath catch in his throat. "You can't have it both ways, Max."

"It's not that simple—"

"Not everything is a giant problem that you have to analyze," she whispered.

He dragged his hand over his face. "You know what would happen if I chose…"

Light. Laughter. Little moments of joy.

He wanted to choose that. But she would hate him for doing it. For the darkness he harbored, that would eventually taint every beautiful corner of her life.

"Don't invite us in anymore," she said. And though she was looking down he knew there were tears in her eyes. Could hear them in her voice, feel them in his chest. "It's not fair to Kevin. Or to me."

"Please—" Don't go. Don't pull the only happiness I have away from me.

Except it wasn't his happiness to hold. Unless…

"Max, let me go."

He blinked and saw his hand on her arm. "Y/n…" His hand moved, and he felt her turn as he cupped her shoulder. He couldn't let her go. Not now. Not with tears in her eyes and pain in her voice. Letting her go would break something in her, and he'd never forgive himself. Releasing a shaky breath, he felt the silk of her cheek beneath his fingertips, then the velvet of her hair. "I…"

Her lips, trembling satin against his. She gasped and he tasted heaven.

Taglist:

@d3kstar | @leodette | @driverlando | @maxlarens | @forzalando | @landinhoe | @trisharee | @littlegrapejuice | @lilypat | @manicpixiemom | @spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris | @kravitzwhore | @younxii | @silentreader128 | @samantha-chicago | @mrsbrxkkxr | @cmleitora | @jasons-little-princess | @toldyouitwasamelodrama | @aundercoverosh | @kiwi43-81 | @awritingtree | @voidsfics | @misartymis | @goldenchemistry | @colmathgames2 | @elliotts1one | @lovin-fangirl | @czennieszn | @a-beaverhausen | @vicurious28 | (if you'd like to be added to this or any of my taglists please fill out this form thx)

Hi this is my first time requesting anything but would you be able to do single mother!reader x the F1 grid. The love interest could be anyone you like xx

In Your Arms

2023 F1 Grid x Leclerc!reader, Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Genre: flangtsy (fluff and angst, get it? I'm a genius)

Request: yep :) Though I'm not sure if this is exactly what you wanted. Sorry if I didn't get it right 😥

Summary: Max Verstappen takes on the role of lover and father to the girl he’s seen go through hell

Warnings: mentions of r*pe and SA but no graphic depictions. Mentions of being drugged.

Notes: this feels heavy in the beginning. Written in second person

Masterlist

You didn’t know how it happened. It was supposed to be a safe place. Security is everywhere.

Though security probably didn’t have reason so suspect an engineer of doing something so awful. Defiling someone’s body without their consent.

You’d come to see Charles’ home race. Granted you live in Monaco and spend majority of your down time with drivers, their partners, and families. You’d grown up around them having gone with to see Charles race and then Arthur.

Your three older brothers had promised to keep you safe. Lorenzo felt that he had to fill your fathers shoes after his passing. Not that he saw you as helpless, but you’re always going to be his baby sister.

You wonder where they are now as you sit in Charles’ driver room. Your clothes crumpled around your body and hair tossed in every direction. You want nothing more then to peel away your own skin.

Something was in your water. She blamed it in chemicals or something, but the more you drank it the thirstier you became. Having downed the whole bottle in five minutes.

The dizziness set in after that. Body now lax and head foggy.

Charles had picked up in your now rather sick complexion and suggested you watch from his room in the motor home. An offer you gratefully took.

Right before the race, someone came to the door and opened it without knocking. A stranger in red who’s face you can’t make out.

Your phone had been buzzing nonstop with texts from your family about her location. Texts you didn’t answer. Limbs to heavy to reach for the phone.

One thing stuck in your mind is what Max is going to think of you now. You’d only been dating for a year. Would he look at you with pity in his eyes? Wonder why you didn’t fight back?

It was funny how you and Max came to be. Much if it having to do with Charles being sick of you two making heart eyes at each other growing up. He’d went as far as to throwing you in Max’s driver room and telling the two of you to confess.

Needless to say it worked.

The hours seem to drag on. Your phone still buzzing. You want to answer but you can barely move. The vertigo no letting you move further then an inch at a time.

Charles is the first to find you. Though you don’t know it’s him. The voice at the door sounds like it’s underwater and your brain can’t make out his face. For a minute, you panic. Charles’ hands are on you, trying to get you off the floor but your wailing at him to stop. Slurred words that he can’t understand fall from your mouth.

Charles can barely get close to you. So he switches tactics. Your family meets him at the door and takes one look at you. Immediately, your moth has a sense she knows what happened.

She’s so gentle. Careful not to touch you and she examines your face. She knows she’s going to have to get you to a doctor. That’s a given. However, she doesn’t know how to do so when you keep flinching at all your brothers who are wearing Ferrari red.

For now, she tries to get water down your throat.

~

The Leclerc’s find themselves waiting at the hospital. The best news being that you weren’t overdosed, but definitely close to it.

Charles is pacing furiously. Angry that the security around the paddock didn’t see anything strange. Arthur is trying to piece together how it could have happened and Lorenzo has been stringing together angry sentences in French over the phone.

It all comes to a halt when Max comes barreling through the door. He looks scared. Charles had called him to tell them where they were but had given him no details.

“What happened?”

~

Everything feels wrong. Your throat is sore. Your head hurts. Your muscles ache. Thoughts seem to be stuck somewhere.

It all comes rushing back as you remember what happened earlier that day. The room is dark, so you assume she slept for a while, but you can’t get her heart to slow down.

Max is stroking your hand gently. His eyes are sad and you can tell he's been stressed. "Nobody is telling me what happened. They said it should be you."

Some part of you is relieved, and the other is wracked with guilt.

"We don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to." He's still running his fingers along her arms.

"He was wearing red." Your nails start clawing at your skin.

It clicks and he's angry.

~

It's been a month and a half.

It's a slow process of getting out again.

Max refuses to leave you alone because you've been sinking further into herself. Then you're always around people. Out in the open. Stuck to someone you trust.

This morning is spent at home in bed. Max's arm tucked gently around around your waist, pulling you further into him.

It's the overwhelming feeling of nausea that has you diving out of bed and into the bathroom. Her stomach contents now not wanting to be in her body.

Max feels her panic and runs after you, trying his best to shake the sleep from his eyes. As soon as he figures out what's happening, he's holding her hair back and rubbing comforting circles on her back.

~

You clutche the pregnancy test in your hands. It makes her sick again. Five positives and a single negative. Three different brands.

Just when you feel you're getting better, now you have to tell everyone you're pregnant, and it's not Max's. Sobs overcame you before you can get up from where you sunk down to the floor.

Max finds you hours later, still on the floor looking and the blue lines.

"I'm so sorry."

"Nothing to apolize for, lovely. Just know I'll support you on whatever decision you make."

~

It's not an easy decision to keep the baby, but she can't see herself parting with them.

The sucky part is knowing that the biological father is still in the Ferrari garage somewhere. Charles, despite his best efforts, could not catch him. He must be some really nice guy that everyone likes. It's always the to nice ones that end up being evil on the inside.

Max has decided he'll take the role of father if you let him. He's been attentive. Making sure your every need is taken care of.

He's also still looking for the man who decided to take something that wasn't his. He's in the Ferrari paddock or hanging around the garage with Charles to see if anyone even looks at you funny.

~

Eight months in, and you're exhausted. Your mom has been staying with you while Max is traveling for races. He calls every chance he gets to check in on you.

Carlos has been sending you videos of why he is going to be a better uncle than Lando. Then Lando goes and brings you food and baby things to prove him wrong.

It's night, and you're tucked into bed, wishing Max were here cuddle with you. Then, the sensation of water leaking down your legs makes you call for your mother.

You stay calm while she drives to the hospital. You were expected to carry to full term. Neither of you expected the baby to come a month early.

You're calling Max repeatedly. The time difference puts him at prime sleep time.

Eventually he answers.

He's on the next flight home.

~

You waited as long as possible. Max had gotten there in the nick of time. He held your hand the entire time.

You were in labor for over a day. The pain getting unbearable at times.

When you finished, you were holding a healthy baby girl.

~

Isabella is your everything. Practically attached to your hip. She took more of your traits than you were expecting. Something that you're grateful for.

Your brothers spoil her to peices. Charles rarely says no to her, Lorenzo loves to show her how to boss the other two around, and Arthur has expanded her vocabulary is ways that are less then ideal.

Oscar was probably the most reliable to leave her with if Max or your brother aren't available. Having sisters comes in handy when he's combing through her hair. She falls asleep in his lap during almost every race weekend at some point.

Her favorite place is either on top of Landos shoulders or in Max's arms.

Max treats her like his own. He's said she's his daughter on multiple occasions. It was nice like this. Creating your own little family.

~

It takes two years after she's born for someone at Ferrari to ask you about her. Personal questions that were starting to make you uncomfortable.

Memories you'd locked away quickly find themselves flooding into your brain. Why is he so familiar?

You're outside the paddock, thankfully. People are within view.

"I want my daughter." He rasps. He is very much in your face now and You can feel his breath sticking to your face.

Your brain and chest short circuit. You send a silent prayer to whoever is listening that someone comes to save you. Thankful at yourself for leaving Isabella with Lando and Oscar.

Max had managed to catch a break and was on his way to find you. A small hop in his step at the thought of finding you and the little girl.

He freezes as he comes around the corner. His legs are carrying him faster than his mind can think. Max's hand finds his shoulder, effectively shoving the man away from you.

It takes everything in you not to fall into him as he slides in front of you protectively.

Your quick to take the opportunity to text someone to come help. Your definitely not strong enough to break them up if this gets physical and you don’t want to risk Max getting in trouble.

It's not long until Charles is barreling around the corner. Lando and Oscar close on his heels.

"You're trying to take away something that's rightfully mine." His voice is scratchy and angry, dripping with venom.

"Just like you took someone's body? I'm pretty sure taking a child is kidnapping." Max is practically growling.

Lorenzo comes running around the corner, Isabella running around the corner away from him and straight to you.

She's too far gone to stop. You lean down and scoop her up in your arms. Holding her head into her shoulder.

Max is still in front of you and her protectively. "You messed up, and now you're missing out." He spits.

Security is able to pull the Ferrari man away. Much to your relief because Charles was getting ready to swing.

You break in Max's arms once he's gone. Isabella is confused at the sadness but is still trying to cheer you up.

Max just holds you. Both of you.

"It's okay now, I'll always keep you safe."

me after saying i’d get tasks done but i’ve just been reading fanfiction for the past 3 hours:

𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 🔥 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: After unknowingly saving the life of a notorious mobster, you find yourself working at his lavish estate as his new housekeeper.

・❥・ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ┄ Mafia!Lloyd Hansen x Housekeeper F!Reader ・❥・ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 ┄ Chris Evans, The Gray Man (2022) ・❥・ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ┄ Mafia AU, language, violence, physical assault, blood/injury, murder, kidnapping, torture, Lloyd is one possessive sonofabitch, unspecified age gap, rom-com of sorts, dark comedy but this is not a dark fic, enemies to lovers, lots of bickering, opposites attract, sexual tension, mutual pining, a bit of fluff because I can't resist, just a twinge of angst to keep things interesting, smut with some plot (please see warnings on each instalment) — minors, do not interact ・❥・ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ┄ OOC Alert! Of course, since I don't really write dark fics, Lloyd is much less psychotic in this story lol. Also, as I wrote it, I couldn't help but incorporate a bit more plot into it than originally planned... I hope you're not discouraged lmao. Follow @vivianandherlily-library and turn on post notifications so you never miss an update.

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒:

Haunted Places

You Put a Spell on Me ⋮ coming soon

Payback ⋮ coming soon

Lost, For You to Find ⋮ coming soon

Reasons to Go, Reasons to Stay ⋮ coming soon

Last Updated: October 14, 2022

autograph session - Lando Norris

summary; Lando Norris x reader

How can Lando change the situation from enemies to lovers?

warning(s); bad language, angst, fluff, maybe grammar errors

author's note; I NEED MORE LANDO REQUESTS PLEASE I'M BEGGING :(

--------------------------------------------------------------

"I would never date someone like her"

This is what Lando said to Daniel Ricciardo after you were gone. You waited a whole day to get a photo with Lando Norris, talking a friendly conversation at an autograph session and when you walked away, you heard this.

Sure you're just a fangirl. But it hurts. You're not a model, you're not as tall as Lando himself but you're smart and nice.

It's like the world hates you months later - Lando Norris is sitting in the restaurant with his team where you work as a waiter. You need to pay bills, it's definitely not your dreamjob. He's definitely not your dream guest.

"I'm not going to this table!", you swear to your coworker. She's looking amused, she's the only one knowing why you hate Lando Norris.

"He'll not recognize you!", she supports you, laughing at the end of saying.

It's hilarious how you stand in front of her, acting like a child.

"Show him you're better than him", she pushes your body forward to Lando's table.

The team hears your foot steps and the attention is on you.

"What can I bring you to drink?", you twist your legs, trying to stay humble. You want to smash the menu card after lando's smirk. Reminding yourself, you really need the money.

They order their drinks and food, you're staying in the shadow without saying much words. Usually you're joking around, having a good time with all guests but you're not feeling well.

"Do you want to pay with the credit card?", you ask Lando without friendly manners. "I'll pay cash, thanks", he shows you his million-dollar-smile. Too bad it bounces off like a tennis ball.

"Thank you, Sir", you nod in the round, ready to leave, Lando holing your wrist, "this one is for you". You can feel cash between your hands, pushing the money like a reflex back to him, "fuck you, Lando Norris!". Your voice is hissing in his direction.

His eyes are getting big, his team is laughing but you couldn't care less, waking back to the cabin, ready to leave your last shift of the week. "What happened?", your coworker comes around, completely in anger what you did. "He can throw his cash in his ass, Mr. I would never date her!", you're frustrated. In this moment someone knocks on your door, "hello?", both of your heads spinning around. "it's only for waiters!", you warn this person. "I don't see if you're naked, I swear!", Lando Norris standing there and holding his hands on his face to cover everything. "what do you want?!", straight eyes caught him. Your coworker pushes you again, "Sir".

Lando rolls his eyes, his rolex is glimmering on his wrist. "what's your name?", he asks you. "doesn't matter", you don't want to interact with him.

"Did I upset you or why are you hating me this much?", he asks again, trying to make this situation a little bit funny.

You don't want to laugh with him, you want to sleep after a ten hours shift.

"Because you play with fangirls feelings!", you scream in his face. He touches his hair, totally chill.

"How can I change your mind, that I'm sorry?", he bites on his lips. He looks so god, you want to kiss and kill him at the same time.

"Leave the restaurant, thanks", you tell him your mind, you get hitting on your shoulder again. You huff, rolling your eyes, "everything is okay", you fake a smile. He says bye and leaves the restaurant.

You're thinking about this situation, even days later back at work. Yes, you had your reasons to be like this but he treated you not like grass unser his feet.

"One guest is asking for you", your coworker searched you in the crowd. "We're not a private restaurant so this guest has to wait!", you bite on your tongue not to say more you'll regret later, "bet you want to know who he is", she grins like a devil. "fine!", shrugging the shoulders and walking to table 10.

"Are you kidding me?", you're pissed to see this face again. Lando Norris in a smoking.

"Hi, nice to meet you!", Lando smiles kinda worried, his eyes are blurried.

"Wish I could say the same but here we are. We're not the only restaurant in this area", you spew fire. He plays with his crossed fingers, his head is down. "what did I do?", he breaths in. "What do you want to drink?", you have to do your job. Nothing more. "I'd like to order food. Just food", he sounds disappointed.

But you have to pretend you couldn't care less.

After he ate his dinner, paying and saying thank you - he left. He didn't left like joking, he stayed quiet.

"You broke his heart, girl", your boss comes around after the shift is over. "Whose?", "Mr. Norris".

This conversation hunts you, still on the streets on the way home.

Lando Norris would never ever go to a restaurant without having a plan. Or at least a reason. Your fan merchandise is hidden in your wardrobe, you didn't wore these things for two years like its a plague.

Next work shift you're tired. You could sleep on your own feet. What if he's telling your boss, you need to get fired? Just because your emotions you could lose your job.

"He's asking for you", your boss pets your hair like a dog and told you it's table 3.

Lando Norris. Again.

He might has vacation, shouldn't he win races?

"Hello", you smile, asking your typical questions as a waitress. It's the same like last time; he orders food, pays cash and wants to leave.

"Have a nice day-", you want to end his time in your restaurant, but he interrupts you. "I asked my menager if i did something wrong to you. There's nothing on social media. I have no clue-", he talks in his british accent. To be fair, his accent sounds cute.

"You told Daniel Ricciardo at an autograph session you would never date someone like me!", gosh. It feels so heavy to speak out this.

Lando's face gets gray. He's biting on his lip. "I'm incredibly sorry", his voice cracks and is shaky. So thin, it could easily break.

"What can I-", you talk between his sweet nothings. "You're a bad person Lando Norris and I don't deserve this. I worked hard to be here with two jobs to pay my bills and I'm not perfect but I'm good enough someone would like to date me! But you would never understand because I'm out of your league with your millions", you scream and leave the restaurant.

You're sure: it was your last day at work.

Nobody called you for the next week, your boss only texted you "take some time, see you in two weeks".

He destroyed you, now you destroyed him. But why does it feel so wrong?

You're watching TV, ice cream in your hands and the blankets is around like a coucon.

"Mr. Norris, how are you today?", the reporter asks Lando with the microphone in his hands.

"I'm okay", he answers with a sick voice, his face is not shaved. "you'll start from p4, are you happy with the results?", Lando Shakes his head, "I'll try to win, like always", "you want to send the prize money to a kindergarten, why?", ok this question is interesting.

"I'm a bad person. I want to change it", he gets weak and walks to his car.

You feel bad. So bad. Maybe you hurt him, too.

Maybe he's crying right now in his car, helmet on.

The following next week comes earlier than you expected and now you're here; in your restaurant ready to make some people happy.

"Lando told me you're working here", a young boy with aussie accent standing here. "are you Oscar Piastri?", "psst please be quiet", he hides his face in his hood.

"He's a mess. He did an horrible mistake and he regrets it but he's not a bad person. I swear", he strongly says. "Thank you for telling me", you smile lovely.

"He wanted to ask you out since the team dinner. He came back here after the race of Australia and he had a jet leg and almost slept in the next practice but he didn't care because he thought you're happy to see him again", he spills the tea. He's not angry, he's calm. "What should I do now?", you feel rude.

"I can give you his number and his address, he booked a hotel room but is too afraid to come here", he whispers because guests are walking behind him. You nod and take the phone number.

"Why is he afraid?", "you ripped him with words". "Bye", he says in a hurry and leaves.

You decided to walk to him after your work shift, a luxurious hotel room in front of you.

You knock two times until you hear foot steps. "don't need room service but thanks", an exhausted voice talks.

"Open the door, Lando", you're freezing your ass off. It's cold tonight.

"What are you doing here?", Lando Norris standing here with nothing but in just his underwear.

"Oscar told me", you smile. You don't want to hurt him.

"Come in", he opens the door and let you in. It's clean, just some helmets on the ground, "I like your new helmet design", you smile again.

"I'll give them away", "why?", "I'm a bad person and want to make it better for my fans", he sniffles. "You love this helmet", you argue back. He told the media he would sleep with this helmet in his bed because it's so cool.

He's standing here, broken and lost.

"I want to treat my fans better..", putting his head down. "oh Lando", you can't help yourself and hug him. He's one head taller than you and lays his head in your neck, sobbing. "I'm sorry I told these awful things", touching his back, running circles over it.

"Everything will be alright", you breath in his cologne. "You're not a bad person", you correct yourself.

"I am and I just wanted to ask you out", he cries in your arms. You're watching out of the window. It's already dark outside, cold air. "Everything is alright, Lando", you burry your head in his hair.

"I'm such a pussy", he sniffs and stops hugging you. "you're not", you smile and whip his tears away. In front of you is a good looking, inside and out beautiful person.

"I swear I wasn't talking about you at this autograph session", he uses a tissue and smiles. "Oh what is this?", you catch a beige hoodie in your hand, lando's name on it. "its my new merch but it's not-", "I'll borrow it until you ask me for a date so you have to come along", you wink at him. He giggles his adorable laugh, "okay, darling".

Darling.

I might fell for his personality.

kitty taking kitty bath in the kitty bathtub