White Horse - Chapter 23: June 2024 - Part 4

oh my god..!!!! why is this soo goddamn cute..???!!!!

You’re my muse every night.

hi bubs, happy wednesday! (or whatever day it is for you <3) this is like…possibly the most self indulgent piece i’ve written. it’s just some really simple fluffy joon content with a dash of “i’m so in love with you it hurts” which is exactly what i feel for namjoon so. fitting. the self indulgence is so so real. okay anyways i just hope you all enjoy :)

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7k

It was cold. 

The icy sheets were the first thing your brain registered as your body came to, stretching across the mattress with a groan at the tightening and untightening of your muscles.

You felt disorientated; you definitely weren’t ready to wake up yet. But god, this bed was freezing. Why was it so cold?

Reaching out for your own personal space heater of a boyfriend, you let out a whiny “hmph” when you came up empty-handed, peeling your eyes open to confirm that Namjoon was no longer beside you.

Lifting your head to glance over at the door of your en-suite bathroom, you frowned at the lack of light flooding into the bedroom, huffing as you sat up to swing your legs over the empty mattress.

The time stamp on your alarm clock told you that it was three hours after midnight, much past your usual bedtime. You should be sleeping.

Every normal person should be sleeping. 

Keep reading

close to you // myg 

songs aren’t the only things BTS SUGA produces

+ 

just when your marriage with yoongi is finally reaching a conclusion, a moment for the shits and giggles causes signing divorce papers to delay for another 9 months

navi | m. list | ask me ! | send an ask to be on the taglist ! i will not be responding to taglist requests anywhere else !

pairings:

husband // idol!yoongi + wife // stylist!oc 

au/genre: 

marriage // saving a marriage // pregnancy au

idol verse // workplace romance 

smut, crack, angst

social media au + written scenes 

warnings:

implied + actual smut 

mentions of pregnancy and everything related in that topic 

toxic aspects such as: back and forths, concept of staying in a marriage just for the baby, gaslighting, concepts of manipulation, name calling, etc.

parts: 

posting and schedule starts decemeber 2022

playlist

only available on spotify !

index # c2u myg

i . (0/5) can we stay like this

track 01

track 02

track 03

track 04

track 05

ii . (0/25) forever

copyright © 2022, muniimyg on tumblr.  

parents of three l MV1 imagine

a/n: sooo max is officially a dad 😭😭 so I picked up the draft of my dad!Max series with the twins which you can find here! I hope you like it and let me m ow if you have some ideas!

summary: baby verstappen nº3 is here, and the twins are now happy with the idea.

It had been a quiet morning, at least by the new Verstappen household standards.

The Monaco penthouse, usually alive with the squabbling of six-year-old twins and the occasional feline disaster, was unusually peaceful. The cause of this rare tranquility? The arrival of Baby Lia had everyone mesmerized, literally and metaforically having everyone wrapped around her little finger.

Youcradled the newborn in your arms, gently rocking her in the nursery Max had insisted on painting himself. Pale pink walls, soft grey furniture, and a mobile of tiny stars that the twins helped assemble.

“You’re not even crying today,” you murmured, brushing a soft kiss on Lia’s forehead. “It’s like you know I needed a break, what a smart baby, yes you are.”

Footsteps padded down the hallway, fast and energetic. Then came the crash of something toppling over. The twins ready to disrupt the quiet.

“Mila!” Luca’s voice rang out, shrill and dramatic. “You almost dropped her bunny!”

“It’s not my fault Jimmy knocked it down!” Mila huffed back.

You sighed, smiling despite the quiet moment gone. The calm had lasted exactly twelve minutes.

You stepped into the hallway with Lia, just in time to see Jimmy dart out from under the baby’s toy box with a fluff of pink clutched between his teeth.

“Mama!” Mila wailed, dramatic tears already forming. “Jimmy stole Lia’s bunny!”

“Yes, because you dropped it, Mila!” Luca reprimanded his twin.

Before you could intervene, Max’s voice boomed from the kitchen. “Jimmy! No stealing from the baby!”

Max appeared, wearing sweatpants, a Red Bull hoodie, and holding two sippy cups. He looked equally amused and tired. parenthood in a nutshell.

“Crisis averted?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I think Jimmy wants attention,” you replied, bouncing Lia gently. “He’s jealous, he probably thought it was only going to be the twins forever.”

Max chuckled, scooping up the cat and plopping him into Luca’s arms. “That’s what happens when you’ve ruled the house for years. Then babies come and steal your spotlight. Tough life.”

“And what about Sassy?” You asked Max.

Max glanced toward the back of the couch where Sassy lounged with the disinterest of a feline queen, which of course she was. “She’s plotting our demise, probably.”

You snorted, the vibrations of your body earning a smile from Lia.

The twins came running, now united in their mission: cooing at their baby sister.

“Can I hold her again?” Mila asked, reaching for Lia’s tiny hand.

“No, me first!” Luca insisted, already positioning the couch pillows for support just like Max had shown them.

You sighed again, this time with a full heart. You remembered the day you told the twins about the pregnancy, Luca had declared he didn’t want “a baby stealing his toys,” and Mila had spent the afternoon sulking because “babies are boring.” And both of them had tried really hard to stop the baby’s arrival.

Now? They were obsessed.

It was later that weekend in Miami when Max found himself being cornered in the paddock for an interview with Sky Sports Netherlands.

“So Max,” the interview began in Dutch, “congratulations again on the new addition to the family! How are things going at home with three kids now?”

Max grinned, hands in his pockets. “Chaotic. Loud. Exhausting… Perfect.”

The interviewer laughed. “And the twins? How are Mila and Luca adjusting? I remember they weren’t too pumped when we crossed paths a few months ago.”

Max didn’t hesitate. “Honestly? I thought they’d hate it. When we told them (Y/N) was pregnant, Luca wanted to move out.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Mila made us sign a paper saying we’d still play Barbie games with her even after the baby came. They were so in denial that we got a call from their teacher.”

The small group of journalists laughed.

“But now?” Max continued. “They’re obsessed. They follow Lia around like bodyguards. Luca brings her toys she can’t even use, Mila sings to her. They fight about who gets to hold her. I think I’ve held her less than both of them.”

“And the cats?” The interviewer teased. “I hear Jimmy and Sassy have opinions.

“Oh, Jimmy’s a menace. He tries to sleep in the crib,” Max said, his tone fond. “Sassy’s smarter, she gives Lia a five-foot radius. She watches from a distance like she’s evaluating her for royal court or something which is very entertaining.”

There was more laughter.

“Sounds like a full house.”

Max nodded. “It is. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

-

Back home, the house was quieter than usual.

With Max in Miami, you were managing the trio on your own. Your mother had offered to stay, but you politely declined, liking the rhythm and evolving routine; early mornings with Lia after the twins left to school, midday chaos with the twins, and long, quiet evenings watching Max on the TV while feeding the baby.

You curled onto the couch, baby Lia nestled in a wrap on your chest, Mila curled up beside you, and Luca was completely knocked out from building a Lego fortress with a secret baby princess chamber, which he assured was for both Lia and Mila.

Max’s interview played in the background. “Luca wanted to move out,” Max said on the screen, laughing.

You giggled, watching Luca’s face twitch in sleep as if he’d heard his name.

The moment made your heart ache with pride and love.

Two days later, Max came home.

The door opened quietly, he’d learned not to make noise just in case Lia was sleeping, but before he could take a step in, Mila barreled into him.

“Papa!” she squealed.

Max laughed, lifting her with one arm and dropping his bag with the other. Luca followed, hugging Max’s waist.

You appeared at the end of the hall, holding Lia with one hand and balancing a bottle in the other. “Hello babe, the house didn’t burn down.”

He met you halfway, kissing you deeply, letting his hand rest over Lia’s tiny head. “Missed you,” he whispered on your lips.

“She missed you too. She kept staring at the TV every time you talked.”

“She’s a Verstappen, she knows good racing.” Max bragged, a habit he picked since the twins were born was now at its peak after the birth of Lia. “Plus, she was conceived the night I won the fourth so she knows what’s good.” Max whispered the last part so the twins wouldn’t hear.

Later that night, the five of you, cats included, were on the bed.

Mila had brought her blanket, Luca had brought snacks which were promptly confiscated by Max. Jimmy snuggled into Max’s feet while Sassy stared at the baby with mild disapproval.

Lia gurgled softly between you, wearing a pale pink Red Bull onesie Max had been gifted by the team.

“I can’t believe we made her,” you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I know,” he whispered back, brushing his thumb along Lia’s little hand. “She’s perfect.”

“I was so scared,” you admitted. “I thought adding another baby would ruin the balance and let’s be honest, we never really thought about having another baby, we were just desperate to celebrate your championship.” You giggled, remembering the night.

Max turned to you, cupping your cheek. “You were right to be scared. But we didn’t ruin anything. We just… added more love.”

Luca yawned. “Papa, can Lia come to the next race?”

Max smiled. “Not yet, buddy. But soon.”

Mila curled next to her mother. “She needs earmuffs with her name printed, like the ones we use when we go see daddy race.”

“She’ll have them,” Max promised. “We’ll get her baby-sized ones.”

You smiled, the warmth in your chest spreading like sunlight.

“I know we have enough but… I think we need a new cat.” Max proposed.

You snorted. “Excuse me?”

Max shrugged. “It’s only fair! The twins have Jimmy and Sassy, Lia deserves her own.” Your husband worked his beautiful blue eyes on you.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” You said, knowing this fight was already lost.

“Mila was also talking about a puppy after meeting Leo.”

“Max!”

this was sooo cute🤩🤩😍😍

once upon a charm | myg

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (best friends to lovers!au)

Genre: fluff

Rating: g

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 2.2k

Prompt: Best friends to lovers where he confesses, not being able to see you with anyone but him

AN: i'm very behind with these and they keep missing the drabble mark, and i am really sorry :( for the special person who requested this wonderful story to come to life, i am really sorry, i hope this makes up for it! <3

thank you @notyouroppar for reading this for me you are a gem

Hope it’s enjoyable to read! I would love to hear feedback! <3

Rᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs ᴀʀᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴏᴘᴇɴ!

“And the Princess got taken away-“ his superfluous gestures almost caused him to fall off the bed, but before he could slide off, he put a foot down, hands still high in the air, bearing a striking resemblance to a gymnast. Even through the foggy vision caused by the tears running down your cheeks you could clearly see the comical expression, wide eyed and mouth puckered.

“Yoongi, stop.” Exploding into another fit of laughter, you held yourself, tears still streaming down your face. It had been a little over an hour since you had called him over, your desperate watery voice immediately springing him into action. He didn’t care that it was almost midnight and tomorrow he had an early lecture, it didn’t matter that your dorm was on the other side of the campus and it was way past curfew. None of this mattered to him. The thought of you alone, in your tiny dorm room, crying your heart out was all he could think of. So he ran as fast as he could until he reached your dorm. Getting past the night guard was a piece of cake, he’d done it more than once for your movie nights. Once he arrived at your door, panting and bent over from the effort, he knocked once, twice, three times; your secret code. The sight of your blotchy tear stained face wiped away any memory of the stitch he had acquired on the way there. You needed him, so without a word he grabbed your top and pulled you into his arms.

It had been a little over an hour since Yoongi appeared at your door, face red from running, his breath coming out in raspy pants. It had been a little over an hour since he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. His familiar scent had washed over you and as you felt his arms slacken to let you go, you fisted his hoodie and clung tighter onto him. You weren’t ready to let go.

“Why did you run all the way over here, stupid? You hate running.” Your voice was muffled by the thick material of his top and you could barely breathe, yet you couldn’t care less. The warmth of his hold paired with his own scent were the only things holding you together. Your tears had stopped, but you’d been crying for so long that your whole head felt stuffy.

Yoongi savoured the feel of your frame pressed against his, your tight hold on him let him know that you needed him, and he was ready to provide all the support he could. There was very little he wouldn’t do for you. In fact, there was only one thing he wouldn’t do for you. He wouldn’t tell you how he felt on days like these; days when you would call him struggling to deal with your own emotions. Not because he couldn’t, but because he didn’t have the courage to burden you.

If there was ever a situation where Yoongi needed a kind soul to write him a ‘Best Friend Handbook’, this would be it. It’s not that he was a bad friend, quite the contrary. Almost a decade of being friends would suggest otherwise. Give him playground troubles –he could deal with, give him school troubles and last minute assignments stress– he could deal with, give him late night calls to discuss anything and everything under the sun – he was your man. Throw love at him, and he was as good as a Lost Boy in Neverland.

“Tell me a story.” He turned to face you, his expression giving away the surprise he felt at your words. You hadn’t asked this from him in years, knowing very well that storytelling was not his forte. You found out this fault of his pretty early into your friendship, when your rambunctious twelve year old self decided to pester him for a story. He failed pretty miserably to meet your standards and since then you’ve decided to not ask him to make such a tremendous effort. To hear it come out of your mouth in such a pleading way befuddled him.

“I…uh, Y/N.” He couldn’t continue, the sight of your fresh tears pooling on your bottom lashes killed any complaints he may have had. “Right.” He glanced awkwardly around the room, spotting your desk chair not too far from where he was. Before he could grab it and settle in for a disastrous venture, your grip on his hoodie tightened and you pulled him in the opposite direction.

That is how he found himself halfway through a botched version of Sleeping Beauty with his body doing acrobatics he’d never thought himself capable of. Yet, the sight of your bent over form, your hands holding your sides as if you’d burst at the seams if you didn’t and the fresh tears caused by laughter – it made it all worth it. The notion of secondhand embarrassment didn’t matter to him, all that mattered was that you forgot about your troubles and replaced your tears of sorrow with tears of joy.

“No, no. Yoongi!” You chastised him as your laughter subsided. Reaching out for him you pulled him back on the bed, the contact of his frame onto the mattress making you bounce. Suppressing a chuckle he turned towards you, a wide gummy smile taking over his features and you felt your breath hitch and your heart rate speed up. Letting him go before he could feel how clammy your hands had become, you lay down on the bed taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart. “That’s not how the story goes!” Once you felt a bit more control over your own feelings you turned your head towards him. At his incredulous look you let out another round of chuckles.

“You know I am not a good storyteller!” He huffed in annoyance, earning an amused look from you. He couldn’t help but stare at your face, your features enthralling to him; regardless of how disheveled your hair might have been or how splotchy your skin looked from crying. He wanted to memorise every little bit of you. The silence that fell over the two of you felt comfortable, your eyes locked onto each other, you let the calmness of the moment envelop you. This was your safe haven, these moments you got to spend with your best friend.

You reached out for him, his slumped form making it easy for you to pull him lying next to you onto the bed. Once you were certain he was comfortable, you shimmied your way flush against him, your head lying on his chest. Reaching out to play with the strings of his hoodie you yawned his rhythmic heartbeat a relaxing tune. “Tell me another story.”

You felt him protest before he voiced any complaints, the shift of his muscles underneath your head a telltale sign of his discomfort. “You know I am not good with stories.” It was on rare occasions that you heard him whine, however this once in a blue moon occurrence never failed to make your heart melt. “I can write poems, sure. Why do you never ask for a poem?” He threw his free hand in the air in mock desperation.

You burst out in laughter once more, burying your head into his shoulder in an attempt to stifle it. Absorbed in your amusement you completely missed the way Yoongi glanced down at you, as if you put the stars in the sky. In a way, you had. Ever since you became friends, you’d been a light in his life. Your infectious personality immediately drew him in, it didn’t take long for him to realise that he wanted to be part of your life forever. You were the only one he wanted by his side.

“No, no.” You shook your head, the loose strands tickling his chin. Sighing, you lifted your head up for a brief moment to glance at him. The sight of him, eyes closed, a small smile on his face filled your heart with a myriad of feelings you never thought you’d experience throughout the length of your friendship. “Tell me your story.” Yoongi raised his head up to glance down at you, the confusion clear on his face. Sighing, you let your head drop back down on his chest, resuming your finger drawing onto his hoodie.

“How would you tell your story if your story was a fairytale?” You clarified, your heart pounding in your chest. This was new uncharted territory for you, but the thrill of it made your stomach flutter.

All was quiet for a few moments, and you were prepared to repeat your question thinking he hadn’t understood you when he started talking. “Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a Prince.” He ignored your chuckles, choosing to focus on his fingers that wrapped themselves around strands of your hair. “Of course, the Prince is me.” He added confidently earning another round of laughter from you. “This Prince thought he had everything he wanted, what he didn’t realise was that he was missing a best friend.” His arm wrapped around your shoulders, the action bringing you closer to him. “But the fates were kind enough to the Prince and told him that he will be gifted a best friend. Under one condition.” He paused for effect and whether you’d admit it or not your breath hitched in your throat.

“He needed to give up any chance at love.” Yoongi carried on, a slither of sadness slipping into his words. The tears that just subsided threatened to escape the corner of your eyes. You didn’t speak, you didn’t think you could even if you tried. Instead you stayed silent hoping he’d continue. “The Prince immediately agreed, so desperate for a friend that he didn’t think anything of what he was signing himself up for. So, the fates brought someone for the Prince. It was an amazing experience, and the Prince made the most of the friendship, for years and years. Until one day, the Prince realised everyone around him was falling in love. Yet, he felt like he couldn’t afford the same luxury. So,” so enthralled with the story, you clung onto his hoodie making Yoongi smile, “after years of trying to find someone to fall in love with, he remembered the pact he made with the fates. He felt desolate, desperate. Why did everyone have love and he didn’t? For a while he even blamed his best friend.” At his words you gasped, a lone tear trailing down your face. Sniffling you hurriedly wiped it away.

Yoongi’s warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. “ But what the Prince didn’t realise was that the fates had given him the opportunity to save himself. The fates were generous with the Prince, and the Prince was just too stupid to notice.” He chuckled lowly to himself. “He wasn’t falling in love with anyone, because he was already in love.” He chanced a glance at you, your wide eyes rivalling those of a doe.

“He had fallen in love with his best friend, his other half, the only person he’d ever wanted in his life. Seeing her happy was his sole purpose in life. He watched her grow, become the amazing human she is now, and he realised that he wanted to be the only one by her side.” He trailed off, the weight of his admittance finally hitting him. He’d done it. “As you guessed–, I am the Prince and you are my best friend.”

You needed to quickly find your voice to respond to him, you wanted to know the end of the story. You felt selfish, he had been the only one that addressed this, even though you were just as involved as he was. “And? How does the story end?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the hopeful tone making Yoongi smile. He’s finally understood.

“And then I fell in love with my best friend, and we lived happily ever after.” Yoongi’s hand finally ended its decade-long search, his slender fingers finding the courage like the prince in his story did. Gently, as if even the littlest amount of pressure would cause you to retreat, the tips of his fingers ghosted over your wrist, tracing delicate patterns over the back of your hand. The butterflies in your stomach picked up the pace once more as a surge of bravery made you turn your hand around, completing his journey and interlinking your fingers. Daring to turn your head to look at him, you were certain the rosy blush you could see on his cheeks mirrored yours. Glancing at his lips you licked yours.

“Hey Yoongi.” You whispered, your head tilting up towards him. He hummed in response, his breath brushing over your moist lips. “All stories end with a kiss.” Pressing your lips to his you finally felt your fairytale come to an end. You smirked mischievously at him as you parted. He may have owned your heart, but he was still your best friend. And honesty was your code of honour.

“Just so you know. You’re still shit at telling stories.”

drabbles masterlist

Hi can u do a smau with max where reader is a doc for f1 and when max unfortunately has an accident she is one of the first responders(dont know what they are called!!!) And he just stares at her and its like love at first sight for him(he fell first and HARDER!!!!!) and everyone online could see it as well

Some teasing from other drivers as well

And proceed how u deem fit

Loved the sister in law one!!!!!!!

doctor lady | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x doctor!reader

summary: max never thought he would be happy getting a injury that puts him out of racing for three months, but when he has a doctor like you? he can’t help but be a little happy.

liked by landonorris, yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 816,074 others!

maxverstappen1: we are allllm good guys!!!!!!!!!!!!! we are aliveee wnd well babybyvy 🤘AND me and lanHOE (becuare he id a BOE) got a pretty doctory lady 🥰🥰🥰 she’s sooooooooioiiooooo nice and prety AND she made us NOT feel pain so we love her 😍😍😍😍😍

view comments below!

user1: they got him on those GOOD painkillers

user2: we’ve seen drunk max, but drugged max? a whole new level

landonorris: guy our lady doctor is soilioooooooooo prety 😍

maxverstappen1: HEY NO 😡😡 i alreadys called dibs!!!!!! she’s MY prety doctor lady. she game ME her instagran and i’m takin HER on a date!

yourusername: if my supervisor is reading this, i gave him my instagram and agreed going on a date with him because he was being difficult, started crying, and wouldn’t take his medication until i did.

maxverstappen1: HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL LOVE

user2: started crying??? max verstappen started crying???

user3: pain meds do that to you 🤕

user4: i need a video of that right now

user5: he is out of IT. i can’t wait till he wakes up and realizes what he’s done

charles_leclerc: happy you’re okay mate!

maxverstappen1: oh charles i have missed you dearly 🥰🥰 so happy you got 1st!!!!!!!

charles_leclerc: thank you max ❤️

maxverstappen1: i can wait for you to meet my future wife!!!!!!!! you’ll love her! she saved me life ❤️

charles_leclerc: someone please take his phone away

maxverstappen1: NOOOOO I JUST WANT TO TALK ABOUT MY FUTURE WIFR 😡

user6: max, charles is just trying to save you from the embarrassment

user7: when he sobers up, he either won’t give a shit and continue OR he’ll be so embarrassed and he’ll never show his face again

yourusername: everyone, please don’t pay mind to max, he is under very heavy drugs, and is not in a right state of mind. we have tried confiscating his phone, but he starts kicking and becomes difficult.

user8: i know this girl is scared for her job 😭

user9: having max as a drugged out patient seems horrible

user10: literal nightmare material

maxverstappen1: MYYY LOVVER HELLO

user11: good lord #freeyn

danielricciardo: i would say, i hope you recover, but i have a feeling you don’t want to recover?

maxverstappen1: I DONTTTT I NEVER EANT TO RECIVER BECAUSE THAT MEANS NOT SEEING MY BEAUTIFUL LADY DOCTOR SO NO!!! NO RECOVERY FOR ME

danielricciardo: screenshotting all of this for later 🤣

landonorris: i’m hungry, maxie can you tell lady doctor i’m hungry?

yourusername: you can talk to me lando. i’ll go get you something.

landonorris: NOOOO I CABR TALK TO THE LADY DOCTOR MAX SAID I CANT AND HE DAID IF I DID HESS GOING TO KILL ME AND I DONT WANT TO BE KILLED AHHHH

maxverstappen1: YOU FONT GET TO TALK TO MY PRETTY DOCTOR LADY IM GOING TO JILL YLY LANDO

user12: this is genuinely like the funniest shit ever 😭

user13: can’t believe in 10 years from now we’re going to look back at this and laugh

user14: 10 years?? bitch im LAUGHING RIGHT NOW

redbullracing; speedy recovery max! 💓

maxverstappen1: NOOOO NO SPEEDY RECOVERY NO RECOVERY FOR MAX

user15: head injury so bad he lost his love for racing

user16: on a serious note, his injury’s did seem pretty bad, especially his leg…

user17: honestly i’d be surprised if he returned to racing immediately

landonorris: maxie and me got separated :(((( 😞☹️😕😭🥺 lady doctor is is MEAN

yourusername: you two were arguing and disturbing the other patients.

maxverstappen1: DONT CALL MY LADY DOTCIT MEAN!!!!

user18: went from being worried to laughing out loud because wtf is this??

user27; lando and max crashing was NOT on my 2024 bingo card

user28: f1 having a big crash was not on MY 2024 bingo card

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, landonorris, 619,027 others!

redbullracing: unfortunately, due to last weeks crash regarding lando norris and max verstappen. max has been forced to take a three month leave of absence from racing, as he has severely fractured his lower leg. he has immediately started physical therapy, let’s wish him a speedy recovery ❤️‍🩹

view comments below!

maxverstappen1: what a shame 😕 truly saddened by this outcome 😞

user19: what??

landonorris: take a wild guess as to who’s going to be his doctor for three months?

user20: PRETTY LADY DOCTOR???

maxverstappen1: maybe 🥰

user21: we’ve entered the era where max does not gaf about racing as long as he gets to see yn

user22: does this mean he’s not winning the wdc?

user23: he still can, he just has to win basically every race after the 3 months, which isn’t exactly impossible for him

charles_leclerc; so sad for max!

user24: your ass does not feel sad for max 😭

user25: he has his eyes on the wdc!!!

user26: HE ACTUALLY HAS A CHANCE TO WIN BOW

maxverstappen1: @/yourusername, ready to take care of me for 3 months :D

yourusername: no

maxverstappen1: 😕

user27: HAHAHA

danielricciardo: LOSER

landonorris: HAHAH GET REJECTED

charles_leclerc: EMBARRASSING

oscarpiastri: that hurt to read

maxverstappen1: SHUT UP WHO ASKED YOU

user28: tbh i wouldn’t be excited to have max as a patient for 3 whole months with how he acted that night in the emergency room

user29: that man is secretly crazy and you can’t convince me otherwise

user30: i love how max is clearly like head over heels for yn, but she can’t date him because he’s her patient 😭

user31: she can’t?

user30: NO!!! that’s unethical, she can date him after the 3 months but not during

user32: that not being common knowledge to some people is concerning…

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 917,027 others!

maxverstappen1: day one of physical therapy a success ✅

view comments below!

landonorris: so, how many times did she reject you today?

maxverstappen1: ZERO.

yourusername: 10**

landonorris: TENN??????

maxverstappen1: i just don’t understand why she won’t say yes 😞

yourusername: because it’s severely unethical and will get me fired

maxverstappen1: so what i’m hearing is that you’ll go out with me when i’m no longer your patient?

user33: let the countdown begin

charles_leclerc: missed you at the race today!

maxverstappen1: no you didn’t

charles_leclerc: no i didn’t! MAX IT FEELS SO GOOD TOO WIN

maxverstappen1: yeah i KNOW.

yourusername: don’t worry charles, he was watching you during his whole therapy session, and cheered so loudly when you won that we got complains from patients on the other side of the building!

charles_leclerc: I KNEW IT!!!

maxverstappen1: you said you wouldn’t tell anyone yn 😕

user34: it’s so…unsettling seeing max be so publicly affectionate

user35: RIGHT?? like why is he so open about this??

user36: he has no shame…

yourusername: i told you to stop taking pictures of me while i’m working

maxverstappen1: but you just look sooooo pretty

danielricciardo: she doesn’t want you bro

maxverstappen1: SHUT UP

user37: she’s stronger then me, because if i had max verstappen down bad like that?

user38: no literally, i would’ve made him mine the same day we met

user39: why is max posting regular pictures?? it’s weird

user40: he’s trying to impress yn

user39: well he’s going about it all wrong. because these photos just don’t match?? cat, hospital, and then a crappy photo of a therapy room?? horrible horrible HORRIBLE

user41: damn…

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 619,017 others!

maxverstappen1: 2 months down…1 more to go!

view comments below!

user42: HE IS COUNTING DOWN

user43: WE KNEW IT!!!

landonorris: i can’t belive you tricked me into going to a photo shoot for you

maxverstappen1: that is not what happened.

landonorris: you told me we were going golfing, next thing i know i’m watching you get your picture taken like 92884 times 😑

maxverstappen1: just say your jealous

landonorris: OF WHAT???

user44: he’s getting better at being aesthetic

user45: he’s learning!!

user46: are we all going to skip past the fact that max, a hater of everything, had a whole as photo shoot for his instagram?????

maxverstappen1: yn told me i should post more photos of myself for the instagram

user47: so you had a whole photo shoot????

maxverstappen1: yes

user48: oh he’s in love

danielricciardo: looking good max 😍

maxverstappen1; thank you for the support daniel!

landonorris: was that a dig to me?

maxverstappen1: yes.

landonorris: I WAS EXPECTING GOLF

yourusername: looking good max

maxverstappen1: really??? you really think so??

yourusername: yes (with the upmost professionalism)

maxverstappen1: 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

user49: why did max just add “yn thinks i look good 🥰” to his bio

user50: LMAOO I THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING???

user49: no 😭 he very literally put “yn thinks i look good 🥰” in his bio

user51: why does it look like max is in the doctor training room?

maxverstappen1: because i am!!

user51: THEY LET YOU IN THERE????

yourusername: my boss is a huge f1 fan. so he lets max do whatever he wants 🙄

user51: i’m sorry that’s so funny 😭

user52: does max just follow her around all day??

yourusername: pretty much, yeah

user53: you have no idea how much i want to be you

charles_leclerc: wow max looking good

maxverstappen1: thank you charles

charles_leclerc: aren’t you going to put “charles thinks i look good” in your bio?

maxverstappen1: i don’t care about you enough for that

user54: DAMN THATS COLD

user55: those cats are so cute 🥺

. . .

. . .

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 914,078 others!

maxverstappen1: guys i did!!!! i got a date with the pretty doctor lady 🥰🥰

view comments below!

user56: when he falls first and harder >>

user57; this man is literally obsessed with yn it’s insane

landonorris: beat me too it

landonorris: THIS IS A JOKE PLEASE DONT KILL ME

maxverstappen1: nothing funny. i didn’t laugh. you aren’t funny.

landonorris: 😕

user58: WE CHEERED!!!

user59: i still think it would be funny if she just said no even after the 3 months

yourusername; i thought about it, but he’s rich and pretty so 🤷‍♀️

maxverstappen1: pretty :D

user60: she’s so pretty

maxverstappen1: like i’ve been SAYING.

user61: i’ve never seen a man so down bad before

user62: it’s unnerving

user63: a doctor, pretty, and funny?? max hit the jackpot

user64: they both hit the jackpot 😒 it pisses me off

user65: LMAO WHY??

user64: seeing people live the life i want makes me unexplainably mad

danielricciardo: you’re joking right? she’s not actually dating you?

maxverstappen1: what’s that supposed to mean

danielricciardo: it means she’s too good for you @/yourusername are you being held hostage

yourusername; yes

danielricciardo: OH I KNEW IT. DONT WORRY HELP IS ON THE WAY

maxverstappen1: you guys are mean.

yourusername: this means i can never be your doctor again

maxverstappen1: what if once day, on my way home i crash, and its a big crash with smoke and fire, and i get taken to the hospital but i refuse to let anyone touch me that isn’t you, would you still not help me?

yourusername: there’s just something so undiagnosed about you

user65: HAHAHA

user66: max is just so unexplainable

charles_leclerc: are my eyes deceiving me or did she finally say yes 

maxverstappen1: SHE SAID YES

charles_leclerc: OH YEAH OH YEAH I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT BUDDY

maxverstappen1: OH YEAH OH YEAH

user67: my lestappen heart 💔

. . .

notes: enjoy this while i spend the rest of my night learning how to play the sims

thank you for requesting!!

Hold On to Me

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: When your relationship with Oscar begins to strain under the weight of distance and silence, a harsh argument threatens to break it completely.

You don’t remember when the silence started feeling heavier than the words.

It had been creeping in slowly.

Missed calls. Short replies. Half-hearted kisses when he came home from long flights, and how he always seemed tired, too tired to talk, too tired to try. And maybe you were tired too. Of being second to the schedule. Of pretending it didn’t hurt.

Until one night, you broke.

“You forgot my call again,” you said softly, eyes on the cold dinner waiting between you.

Oscar didn’t look up from his phone. “I was in a meeting. I told you it might run late.”

You stared at him. “Do you even want to be in this anymore?”

That made him pause.

He looked up, defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I feel like I’m dating a ghost, Oscar,” you snapped, heart pounding. “You’re here, but you’re not with me. I don’t need the trophies. I don’t need the glam. I just need you. And I don’t even know if you want to be needed anymore.”

He stood too fast, his chair scraping across the floor. “That’s not fair. You know what this career takes—”

“I’m not asking you to give it up,” you interrupted. “I’m asking you to see me.”

And maybe it was too much. Because he just looked at you like he didn’t know where to begin.

So you walked away.

Just for the night.

But then the next morning came. And he was already gone, on a flight, off to another city, another circuit. You didn’t say goodbye. You didn’t hear from him for days.

Until race day.

You sat alone in your apartment, watching from the couch because you couldn’t not.

Because even when you were angry, you loved him. A

nd halfway through the race, your breath caught in your throat when he spun.

A miscalculation.

A hit with the barrier. Smoke. Sirens.

And suddenly, nothing else mattered.

You were on the next flight before you even had time to pack properly.

The track, the hospital, it all blurred. He had a concussion. Some bruised ribs. Nothing life-threatening, thank God. But still, you sat by his bedside like he might disappear if you blinked.

When his eyes fluttered open, his voice rasped, “You came.”

Your throat tightened. “Of course I did.”

He looked at you like he was trying to memorise the moment.

“I thought… I lost you,” he whispered.

You reached for his hand. “You almost did.”

There was a long pause. One filled with regret and something heavier.

“I’ve been stupid,” he said. “I thought the best way to handle the pressure was to shut everything else out. But you’re not everything else. You’re everything.”

Tears welled in your eyes before you could stop them. You leaned down, pressed your forehead to his.

“No more shutting me out,” you whispered. “No more doing this alone.”

He squeezed your hand, his grip just strong enough to make you believe in tomorrow again.

Cry Me A River | Masterpost

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, slight fluff, poly!au, mafia!au, arranged marriage!au

— status: ongoing

— warnings: (triggering topics! please read at your own discretion) childhood trauma, mental abuse, allusions to physical abuse, child neglect, manipulation, gaslighting, violence, mentions of assault, hurt and comfort, divorce, emotional neglect, minor character deaths, kidnapping, some emotionally unstable scenes

one. the breaking | you tried so hard to be enough

two. the lie | a house made of cards, they lived in your beautiful fairytale

three. the promise | if you told them about the darkness inside of you, would they still look at you like you're the sun?

four. the gentle heart | keep your heart warm, no matter how cold they have been to you

five. the void | no matter how many times you read a story over and over again, it always ends the same

six. the puppeteer | father wanted perfection, you fell in love with disorder

seven. coming soon...

WELCOME BACKKK I MISSED YOUR FICS!!!

can i please request a angsty mafia max fic where they are arranged in marriage and get married and he’s distant not cold or rude but he’s just busy and due to a attack he has to leave the reader (his wife) alone with his family esp Jos and the man makes it his personal mission to destroy her and he constantly belittles the reader and makes her feel bad and causes her to have anxiety attacks and max walks in on one of those instances and losses his mind and then gets all protective and angsty confessions idk I hope you write this

A Good Husband

Keep her safe. Keep her safe.

Warnings: Blood, death, murder, mafia au

Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, Max stared at her.

He hadn't been a good husband in the two weeks they had been married. Cold and distant, the man the rest of the world thought he was. Not the man he knew himself to be.

He stared at her. His wife, his ring on her finger.

If he had been given more time, if he had been allowed to fall in love with her, would things have been different? Would she have been sitting in her own room in his house, book in hand as she ignored him? Or would she have been in his lap, reading through her book as Max gripped her hips?

They were supposed to have a serious talk, but Max couldn't bring himself to step inside of her room. Her room. He wasn't going to invade her space if she didn't want him to.

Fuck, what did she think of him? Did she think him a monster? It wouldn't have surprised him if she did. All of the stories told about him, the years of blood on his hands.

A sigh left his lips as he turned around and walked out of the room. She didn't want to see him, he knew it. Their serious talk could wait.

Max returned to his office. Blood stained the furniture, something he didn't care about until now. Now, he hated it. Now, he wanted the bloodied chair gone. Nobody was allowed on that chair, nobody but the cats. Anybody entering his office had to sit in the uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk, or they had to kneel at his feet.

Work was hard when he was thinking about her. It was his fault, her being here. She was the one he had picked out, not quite realising the consequences.

Gunshots.

But that was nothing, there were always gunshots in his house. His men shooting each other was nothing new. As long as nobody got hurt, Max didn't care.

But then they grew louder, closer to his office. That wasn't right.

Grabbing his own gun from his desk drawer, Max left his office. Voice, unfamiliar, hushed whispers, filled the hall. Max followed his instincts, walked down the hall to her bedroom.

Keep her safe. Keep her safe.

Footsteps on the stairs, but Max was quicker. He managed to get into her bedroom before running into anybody. Snapping her book shut, she stared at him. "What?" She almost barked, her face set in a glare.

If Max was gonna be distant, she was going to be cold.

"We need to go," he said quickly, his voice hushed.

Her stony expression became a frown as Max pulled her up.

Footsteps outside of the room. Too late to run.

"Get under the bed," he hissed.

"Max-"

"Just do it!"

She crawled under the bed, panic ringing in her ears. From under the bed, she could see as the door swung open. Gunshots rang out in quick succession, bodies hit the floor. With every lifeless face that fell in front of her, she released a scream.

Four men, piled on top of each other. They all seemed to be staring at her, hands stretched out towards her.

She crawled out from under the bed, another scream leaving her lips as Max grabbed her. "It's okay," he whispered, discarding his gun. "I've got you. You're okay."

His hands smoothed over her hair as he shushed her, did everything he could to sooth her. "I'm gonna get you somewhere safe," Max whispered as she began crying, body shaking as she sobbed.

Somewhere safe. The Verstappen stronghold was the safest place around. High walls, plenty of men and security systems to protect them. With no other choice, that was where Max took his wife.

It was just a shame his father was there.

The Verstappen stronghold. As soon as Max arrived, Jos put him to work. It was just like when he was a boy, working so hard for the approval of the man he could never please.

It was like he had forgotten all of his independence the moment he entered his fathers house. Bowing his head, doing whatever was asked of him. Abandoning his wife to do whatever his father asked of him.

He didn't know that his father was interacting with his wife, didn't know the horrible things being said to her. Why would he know? He hadn't been a good husband, she had no reason to tell him.

The distance was nothing new for them, even if Max hated it.

No, he had to do something about it.

When he walked into the tiny room that had be given to her, he didn't expect her to be crying. She had been so tough up until that point, so damn resilient through everything. But, now, she was crying.

"Hey," he said gently as he strode over to her. Carefully, he unfound her arms from around her legs and pushed his fingers through her hair, trying to get her to lift her head. "What's the matter?"

She tried to speak, but no words left her lips. Max did the only thing he could think of and pulled her to lay against her chest. He didn't know how cruel his father had been, hadn't quite fathomed that to be a possibility.

"I know its been hard," he whispered, fingers moving down her back. "I don't want our marriage to be like this, this terrible. I want to to a good husband to you."

Another sob shook her body as she turned towards him. Her arms found their was around his neck.

"I chose you," he whispered, his lips finding the top of her head. "I'm going to show you why."

Her hands fisted his white shirt. "Don't let him come near me," she said through her sobs. "Get me away from him, Max, please!"

"Who?" He asked, every movement still soothing.

"Your father."

Max didn't need to hear anything else. If his wife wanted to get away from Jos, Max would get her away.

You all know I love my mafia aus (literally wrote a mafia au novel) - anyway, requests are opeeeen

Hii babe, I have another little request if you’re taking them!

Could you write something Kimi Antonelli x fem!reader where she’s super stressed because she’s about to take her final exams (like the French bac) and she hasn’t started revising at all?? It’s literally in a month, and she feels completely overwhelmed and behind.Like she’s spiraling a bit, maybe crying over highlighters and making dramatic “I’m gonna fail” speeches while Kimi just tries to calm her down and support her. Maybe he helps her organize her revision or just stays with her through the stress, reminding her that she’s smart and capable even if she doesn’t feel like it.Basically soft academic panic + golden retriever boyfriend energy. Only if it inspires you of course!! But I’d love that dynamic.

𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞: 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 | kimi antonelli × fem!reader

summary | final exams in a month, panic sets in tears, chaos, and dramatic speeches. kimi stays, calms, organizes, and reminds: you're capable

warnings | gf!reader, academic stress, panic attack elements (crying, overwhelm), comfort, fluff, golden retriever boyfriend energy

word count | 1.5 k

🖇 more ka12 🖇 f1 masterlist

You're surrounded by highlighters. One is drying out on the edge of the bed without its cap, another is chewed between your fingers, and several more are scattered across the desk like witnesses to a crime.

Your notes are everywhere: some open on the floor, others crumpled, one pinned to the wall with washi tape like that’s going to help you absorb information through osmosis.

Your heart is pounding, your eyes are burning, and your thoughts are racing a mile a minute. You don’t even know where to start. You haven’t touched a single flashcard, haven’t opened the first topic, and the bac is in a month. One month. Thirty days. What can you do in thirty days? Go over the entire syllabus? Prepare text commentaries? Review philosophy, history, math? Sleep? No. Sleep is no longer an option.

You feel your throat burn. You're about to cry for the third time this afternoon—and it’s because of a damn dried-up highlighter.

And then, you hear the door open.

"Hey, amore..." says a familiar voice, soft, almost carefree.

Kimi walks in with a bag of croissants in one hand and his jacket slung over his shoulder. He has that smile he always wears when he sees you... but it fades the moment he takes in the disaster that is your room. And you.

"What happened here?"

You turn with a kind of hysterical laugh caught in your throat.

"What happened?" you repeat, your eyes wide. "Kimi, the bac is in a month! A month! And I haven’t started anything! I’m completely lost, I’m going to fail, my life is going to be ruined, I won’t get into university, and I’ll end up… I don’t know! Selling defective highlighters from a street stall while crying!"

You toss a tissue at your face and sigh. You're being dramatic you know it. But you're so overwhelmed you can’t help it. Everything feels too big, too hard, and you feel so, so small in front of it.

Kimi walks toward you carefully, like he’s afraid of spooking you.

"Are you crying because of…?"

"Yes, because of a highlighter!" you yell, pointing at the pastel yellow one that has tragically died on the floor. "It was dry and that was the last straw!"

He lets out a soft laugh and crouches beside you. With the kind of tenderness only he has, he runs a thumb over your damp cheek and wipes away the tear.

"At least you cry in style," he says, and you let out a choked laugh between sobs.

"Don’t make fun of me," you mumble, letting yourself fall against him. Your forehead rests against his chest, and you feel his arm wrap around you.

"I’d never do that. I'm here for this, right? To hold you while the world falls apart because of some exams."

He closes his eyes and rests his chin on your head. His voice, calm, steady, warm, filters through your chaotic thoughts like an anchor.

"You’re going to be okay. I promise. We’ll do this together, okay?"

You don’t say anything, but your hand clutches his shirt. Because even though everything in your head is spinning out of control... he always manages to stop the chaos, at least a little.

You don’t know how long you stay curled up against him. It could be minutes or an eternity. All you hear is his calm, steady breathing, like he’s trying to regulate yours with his. And in a way, it works. Your heart no longer beats with the same violence, and the tears though not completely gone have stopped flowing uncontrollably.

"Does your head hurt?" he asks quietly.

You nod, not lifting your face from his shirt. His hand moves gently across your back, drawing little circles that, for the first time in hours, make you feel like you’re not alone in this wreckage.

"Okay, listen," he says softly, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. "I know it all feels like a giant mountain right now, but we can break it down. Step by step. Day by day. I’ll help you, amore. Want to start?"

"I don’t even know where…" you whisper, voice cracking.

"From the beginning. Tell me which subjects you need to prepare."

You take a breath, pull back slightly, and look at your desk in resignation.

"Literature, history, philosophy, english, geo, and math."

Kimi nods like it’s not a monstrous list.

"Perfect. Then we’re going to make a schedule. A real one. With breaks, time to breathe, and…" he reaches into the bag he left on the desk, "croissants as rewards."

You can’t help but laugh.

"You’re going to motivate me with pastries?"

"I’m going to motivate you with love and pastries. Which is objectively better than any educational system."

He hands you his phone, already open on a scheduling app. You look at it, surprised.

"You had this ready?"

"I know you, amore. I had a feeling."

You start dividing the days by subjects, assigning realistic study hours, leaving room for breaks, and marking small “rewards” at the end of each day. Kimi does it all with infinite patience, listening without judgment, suggesting instead of imposing.

"This is insane," you whisper at some point, watching the schedule take shape.

"No," he corrects you, taking your hand, "this is what you do when you decide to fight instead of give up. And you always fight even when you cry over highlighters."

You sigh. There’s still a pinch of anxiety in your chest, but it no longer fills the whole space. Because now he’s there, sharing it with you.

"What if I don’t make it? What if I run out of time?"

"Then we’ll improvise. Or you’ll do your best. Because you’re brilliant, even if you don’t feel like it today. I know that. And I’m not going anywhere. Even if you have to study twenty hours straight and yell at me because you don’t understand Rousseau."

You look at him. He has that soft, silly smile that always disarms you.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"Don’t thank me yet," he replies, standing up to grab your flashcards. "The battle against the note mountain hasn’t even started. But don’t worry. I brought reinforcements. And croissants."

You laugh. For the first time in days, you truly laugh.

And while he starts sorting your notebooks by color, as if that were a war tactic… you realize maybe you can do this.

Because you have Kimi. And with him, everything feels a little less impossible.

Days passed. Some were chaotic, full of tears, existential dread, and internal battles with the voice in your head telling you you wouldn’t make it. Others were miraculously productive, with full hours of focus, checkmarks on your calendar, and that almost-forgotten feeling of progress.

But the best part was that Kimi was there for all of it.

He became your official study partner. He sat beside you, even if he didn’t understand a single word of your philosophy texts. He read your outlines, quizzed you, and gave you a kiss every time you got one right. He learned how to pronounce Spinoza without laughing and ended up having opinions about Victor Hugo. More than once, you caught him doodling nonsense in the margins of your pages while you reviewed.

"Is this a philosophical pig?"

"No, it’s Descartes… in cochon mignon version," he replied seriously, like it made perfect sense.

And you laughed. You laughed so hard you forgot, for a second, all the stress.

That particular night, you were both lying on your bedroom floor. Your notes were stacked, and your head was resting on his lap. He was stroking your hair absentmindedly while you repeated phrases quietly.

"‘L’homme est condamné à être libre…’" you murmured.

"That guy sounds intense," he said, and you smiled.

"It’s Sartre."

"Couldn’t he just say ‘do what you want but take responsibility’?"

"Wouldn’t be existentialism if it were that easy to digest."

"Touché," he said, kissing your forehead.

You fall silent for a few seconds. Your eyes sting a little from exhaustion, and that familiar twinge of insecurity creeps in.

"Do you really think I can do this?"

Kimi stops stroking your hair and makes you look at him.

"Y/N… I don’t think. I know. You’re smart—smarter than you give yourself credit for. You’re scared, sure, but that doesn’t mean you’re not capable. Look at you: you’ve been fighting this for days, organizing, reviewing, moving forward. Even when you’re tired. Even when you’re scared. You keep going. And not everyone does that."

You feel a knot form in your throat. You’re not sure if it’s because of his words, his voice, or the way he looks at you like you're everything good in the world packed into one person.

"Can I give up for just a little bit?"

"You can give up for as long as you need," he whispers. "And I’ll stay with you until you’re ready to start again."

You wrap your arms around him tightly. And for a moment, between notes, highlighters, and philosophical theories, you feel safe.

And just a little bit braver.

1,1,3 😛😛😛 i feel like i gotta

Max’s Shift in Career

summary: you ask the million dollar question to have a baby

pairing: f! reader x Max Verstappen

prompt: asking for a baby x Max Verstappen x fic

warning: mentions of pregnancy, if that is not a topic you’re interested in, please skip

a/n: part of 600 followers celebration!!! thank you anon for this!!! you’re doing a service for asking for this hehe

600 followers celebration

You were visiting Max’s sister, Victoria and her family, during summer vacation. Spending a few weeks away on the beach with family was your perfect idea of a break. Mornings were slow and the days were long, but in the right way. While you and Victoria enjoyed sunbathing, Max and Joris spent time playing with the kids in the water. While it warms your heart seeing Max interact with his niece and nephews, you’d be remiss to not say there was a part of you that yearned for more.

Over the course of the couple years you and Max have been dating, the talk of children and the future definitely was a topic of conversation more than once. Given Max’s career and the constant travel, there was a mutual understanding that having kids was something to be put on the back burner for the time being. And, you understood why. But, the want has always been something that’s flashed through your mind more than once– especially when you see him around his sister’s kids.

“What’s on your mind?” Victoria says, pulling you out of your deep thoughts.

“Well, what isn’t at this point?” You reply with a small chuckle. Victoria smiles at you knowingly. Ever since you started dating Max you had become instant best friends with Victoria. She’s become the sister you never had.

“How did you and Joris know it was the right time?” You ask after a moment of silence. Victoria tilts her head inquisitively. She follows your line of sight which is on Max who is holding one of his nephews splashing around in the water. She nods in quiet understanding, knowing what you’re implying.

“Well,” she begins, turning to face you more, “there really isn’t a “right” time, honestly. There’s always going to be something coming up in life but you just go with the flow, I guess.”

You turn to look at her, your brow furrowed in thought.

“To be frank, even after our third, there was still that apprehension but once the baby’s here, everything falls into place.” Victoria continues, now shifting her gaze to her husband and kids.

As the words sink in, your yearning for a family grows. Having a family of your own has been a dream of yours forever and the more time you spend with Max, the more the desire grows. And it’s not out of your own selfishness per se, rather it’s out of the love you have for Max. You know he’d be a great father, especially with the amount of love he has for you, you can only imagine that would double, even triple towards a baby.

“Talk to him, you might be on the same page even more than you thought.” Victoria urges you. If there’s one person who knows Max more than you, it’s his own sister. And, she would never steer either of you wrong.

Later that night, after dinner and after everyone has turned in for the night, the conversation you had with Victoria earlier is still swimming in your mind.

Max notices your pensive expression as you stand at the bathroom sink washing your face. He walks up behind you and lays a kiss to the crown of your head as his arms come to wrap around your waist. For a moment, the two of you stand there in a domestic bliss. It’s now or never, you think.

“Can we have a baby?” You blurt out as you finish patting your face dry with a towel. Your eyes meet Max’s in the mirror as he raises his eyebrows in surprise by your straightforwardness. His mouth opens, almost as if to say something but you turn around to face him, your back now up against the sink counter.

“I know we’ve talked about it before and that with racing and everything it wouldn’t be the easiest to do so but I feel ready and I love you and I want this with you no matter how crazy or hectic it may be but I also understand if you’re not ready-” You ramble before Max butts in.

“Is that why you’ve been quiet lately?” He asks, you can only manage to nod in response.

You both stand there in silence for a few moments, allowing the words to sink in giving Max time to respond. After a beat, Max draws in a sharp breath.

“Of course I’m ready, I always have been. The only thing I’ve been hesitant on is leaving you at home while I’m halfway across the world.” He finally says, studying your face.

“Max,” you say, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek, “I would be okay. I have your sister, your mom and my friends that will be there while you're gone. I don’t want to wait for a “perfect” time, because that’s taboo. I want you and I want a family with you.”

After a moment, Max cracks a smile.

“Well, I guess we better start cracking then.”

“Really?” You say full of surprise.

“Of course, honey. You’re the most important person to me and, I know we’ve always beat around the bush with this but it’s only because I didn’t want you to feel alone in it. So as long as you're comfortable and ready, I’m ready too.” Max says pulling you into an embrace.

“But if anything happens while I’m away, call me and I will stop the car mid race to be next to you.” He says faking seriousness.

“Oh no, you’re finishing your races. Our baby will not have a quitter as a father.” You respond teasingly.

Although you say perfect timing was taboo, the universe was on your side for this because you went into labor shortly after the race in Monaco the next season. And Max, finished the race and was by your side through it all.

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