Hello! My name is Sin (she/her pronouns). I’ve been writing for nine years now and this blog is a mess of writing. Since I currently am not working most of my time is spent reading fanfiction and thinking about writing fanfiction.
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Words: 7,242
Summary: After a week together, they part with a final kiss and unknowingly a baby growing inside her.
Note(s)/Warning(s): Slightly NSFW in the beginning. Found(ish) family is a huge part of this fic. Part two will be posted on August 21st, 2026 (welcoming back F1 from the summer break).
Masterlist | Support Me!
Week Zero
She lets out a giggle as Charles kisses his way up her body, leaving a slight stickiness on her stomach that is gone completely when he reaches her lips. “You are insatiable.” She murmurs against his lips.
He scoffs, drawing back to look at her. “It is not my fault you are so beautiful. I just can’t control myself.”
She makes a humming sound, stretching a little and watching as his eyes fixate on her breasts. “I know. This was supposed to be one night. And you’ve had me in this bed for six days.”
He grins, “And what an amazing six days they have been.”
And god wasn’t that true.
When she had met Charles at a club and had gone to his, she had been expecting a one night stand, maybe a nice one. She hadn’t expected to spend the rest of her vacation in his bed, unable to stop touching him or being touched by him. Every part of her body was sore and tired, had grown so on the third day, but she still found herself dropping to her knees or parting her legs for him.
Thinking about it has her thighs clenching despite the orgasm he just pulled from her, but before he can start again, she gently pushes him off her, rolling over to grab her phone.
“Fuck.” He breathes.
She smiles at the reaction. They hadn’t really bothered with clothes and yet still they both pulled reactions from each other like it was the first time.
Looking at her phone, she frowns seeing the reminder that her flight leaves the next morning. She quickly sets a few alarms for tomorrow, before locking it and turning back to face him with a small smile on her face.
“My flight leaves tomorrow.”
“Reschedule it.”
She laughs at the quick response. “I have this thing called a job.”
“Quit.”
“You just have all the answers.”
He smirks, “Of course, I do.” His face then softens as he smiles at her. “I wish I could convince you to stay longer. This has been nice.”
“More than nice.” She corrects. “I’m going to miss you, Charles.”
“Because of the orgasms?” he grins.
“There is that. But also just you.”
Because in between all of those rounds of sex, they had done a lot of talking. A lot more talking than she thinks you’d normally do with someone you’re spending a week with having sex who you’ll likely never see again. But maybe that was part of it. The high chance of never seeing each other again.
Week Nine
Her heart stops at the words, at the theory she had coming to life. “I’m what?”
He lets out a chuckle. “Pregnant, sweetheart.”
She narrows her eyes, teasing him. “You're my ex uncle John. No more sweethearting me.”
He makes a face, scoffing. “I was your uncle for three years, your favorite uncle at that.”
“When I was twelve!" She shakes her head, giving him a thankful smile before her brain refocuses on what he said. “What do you mean, I’m pregnant?”
“Your labs say you're pregnant. I had them run them twice to be sure.”
She blinks before dropping her head in her hands. “Fuck.”
He pats her shoulder. “Do you want me to call Matt?”
She appreciates the quietness of his voice, the gesture, but they both wince at the name, at the thought of what used to be his family, and what is technically her family, even if she hasn’t talked to any of them since she was twenty. “No.” She shakes her head. “I uh need to think, process.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t blink at her unsureness. “Let me get you some pamphlets to read, think about your options and if you have any questions you can call me or the office and I can answer them or get some friends too.”
“Thank you.” She breathes, trying her best to send him a smile.
“Of course. Do you want to schedule an ultrasound now or wait until you know what you’re going to do?”
“Wait. I don’t want to have to cancel it or have it influence my decision.”
“Alright. I’ll let Jessie know and they’ll come in to finish up your appointment and you’ll be good to go.”
Week Thirteen
She stares at her phone in disbelief… blocked. Fucking blocked. He blocked her number after asking repeatedly for it.
Her jaw twitches and she wants to scream. She didn’t even want to talk to him now after this discovery, but she couldn’t not tell him that she was pregnant with his baby. It wouldn’t be fair and she knows that he wants kids.
Charles had talked about it a little as they laid in bed, catching their breath, his fingers dancing on her arm as he talked about wanting three, hoping they would all get his love for racing, but hopefully wouldn't actually want to be drivers.
“Too much heartbreak,” He had remarked, smirking, but she had seen pain in his eyes.
Pain seemed to frequent his eyes more than it didn’t.
The thought of the pain in his eyes, so visible, so much of it she could have drowned in it, has her anger flattering for a second before she shakes her head.
She doesn’t have any other ways to get in contact with him. Not if he’s blocked her number. She’s more than aware that he has social media, but she had heard him groan about three different members of his team also having access to it.
Her teeth sink into her lip as she tries to think of what to do. She could go the legal route, let him know with a notice for child support, but she doesn’t want it to seem like she’s just wanting child support from him. She just wants him to know about his child. She also knows, considering who he is and how much money he has, that there would be demands for a paternity test, even pushing for one while she’s still pregnant. Her hand smooths over her abdomen at the idea. There was a risk to the baby with that. It’d have to wait until the baby was born, which really has her back to square one.
It’s only as she’s struggling to go to sleep that she remembers the name of one of the guys who works at Ferrari. Is part of the communications team. She only remembers because no one was supposed to bother Charles and while he had been trying to convince her that shower sex wasn’t a safety hazard, Vinny had texted him asking him to look at an email that was sent.
She had then made a joke about Vinny being old and not understanding the new trend of vacations which had prompted Charles to go to his instagram page to show her the most twenty-something year old Italian man she had ever seen.
Sitting up right in her bed, she forces herself to think about the instagram username that Vinny had. Her one hand reaching for her phone.
She starts to type vinnyf and before she has to think about what else follows, she sees it, three down and she quickly taps.
He’s only got ten thousand followers and she starts typing a message to him. She’ll come across as crazy, insane, the worst kind of fan, so she tries to come across as serious. She asks him to please tell Charles she needs to talk to him. Mentions where Charles was staying, something only a few people knew, even mentions that she knows Vinny had messaged him during the vacation even though Charles had asked for no one to contact him. She then adds another please and that’s important because she’s pregnant and it’s Charles’.
Week Sixteen
“And you’ve got a little boy.”
“A boy,” she breathes, staring at the screen, eyes watering.
“A boy,” he says again. “He looks good, measuring well. Active. And mom,” her smile wobbles at the sound of John of all people calling her that. God, she was a mom. “You are looking good as well. Except for,”
“My iron.”
“Yes. If I didn’t know it wasn’t possible, I’d say you were growing a little vampire ala Twilight.” His smile dims a bit when she doesn’t laugh and she has to look away when she sees the growing concern in his eyes. “So, I’m going to put you on an iron supplement and vitamin C. I know you’ve taken iron before, this will be every day however, instead of every other day.”
“Okay.” She nods, already dreading the stop to the pharmacy and then grocery store she’s going to have to do after this.
“Is everything okay?”
Her mouth opens, ready to say, of course, but as she sees how concerned he is, the truth comes out. “Not really. I uh, I can’t get a hold of the father. We exchanged numbers, but he blocked me and I tried reaching out through one of his friends, telling them I was pregnant and they told me he wants nothing to do with the baby.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” His hand takes hers in his as he sees the tears spill down her face.
“I shouldn’t even be crying. I was ready to be a single mom, I am ready to be one, but he told me he wanted kids. And he could’ve lied, he probably did, but it just feels like he doesn’t want them with me.”
John holds her hand as she cries, not rushing her, not saying anything, just letting her be, until she calms down.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says.
She tries to smile, but it’s weak at best. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
He nods. “Okay. But, just remember you aren’t alone. I’m here. I know I haven’t been a part of the family for years,”
She stops him, “No, but you are a part of my family. You divorced Matt for good reason and it’s not like I’m part of the family either. I had my pick of doctors to go for, I could have gone anywhere. I chose here and chose you.”
He has to blink tears out of his eyes. “I can’t cry on the job, sweetheart.”
A small laugh leaves her and he smiles.
“You aren’t alone. We’re family. Which means that if you need anything, call me or call Andrew.”
She hesitates at the mention of Andrew. “Andrew would be okay with me? I am your ex-husband's niece.”
“Family is complicated, he knows that and he loves you. He wanted to reach out but didn’t know if you’d feel comfortable hearing from him.”
She frowns, “Great. We’ve both been afraid of stepping on each other’s toes even though we both love each other.”
John laughs, “I told him that he could be your dad, the way you too are… both so similar.”
A dirty look gets thrown at him for that comment and he puts his hands up, but knows she isn’t offended by how she’s smiling slightly.
“Think he’d be okay with me calling him to get some dinner since you’ve got a shift at the hospital tonight?”
“He’d love that.” He tells her, squeezing her hand.
—
It’s easy for her to spot Andrew as she enters the restaurant, she gives a small smile to the hostess, murmuring she’s meeting someone with a small gesture to Andrew, and the hostess nods.
Her feet drag a bit as she walks over to Andrew. They weren’t swelling yet, but they had started to hurt if she was on her feet for too long without a break.
“Hey,” he greets, sliding out of the booth.
She means to say hi back, give him a small pat on the arm before sitting down, but she finds herself throwing her arms around him.
He doesn’t return her hug for a second, but before she can pull away and panic, he wraps his arms around her as well, his touch gentle and it has her realizing that, despite knowing Andrew for nearly ten years, they’ve never hugged.
She used to spend weekends at his and John’s house in college when she needed space from her roommate, had countless breakfasts with him, spent she doesn’t know how many hours sitting on the same couch as Andrew as she worked on papers, and they had never hugged.
“Hi,” she manages to say when they break apart and are sitting across from each other.
“You doing okay?” he asks, eyes looking over her.
“Yeah, I just missed you.” It hurts how true that is. She had never let herself get too close to Andrew. Always scared that he didn’t like her, was only putting up with her because he loves John, but she has missed him.
His whole face softens at her words. “I’ve missed you too, kid. How has work been? Boss still kicking around?”
“Work has been good, I’m actually working through more assignments than usual, my choice.” She hurries to say, to reassure. “And yeah, still kicking around. Less of an ass since I gave notice for maternity leave.”
“Good, good. And congratulations, you're going to be a great mom.”
She smiles, “Thank you.”
Dinner is spent catching up and regret sits a little heavy on her for not asking John earlier if Andrew was okay with her. Because she’s getting to know Andrew, he’s getting to know her himself, and it’s amazing.
She tries to pay, but before she can, he’s handing his card over and giving her a small glare.
“Don’t think about it,” he says when she starts to open her mouth.
“I was just going to say thank you.”
“Sure you were.”
It’s quiet between them as Andrew walks her to her car. Her mouth opens to say goodbye, but Andrew is talking before she can.
“Listen, I know John already said it, but if you need anything, call us, text us. I’m still not sleeping much, so don’t worry if it’s three in the morning or something.”
“If I need anything, I’ll call.”
She surprises herself a little with how true the words are. She’s always been stubbornly independent, but she can also acknowledge when she’s out of her depth and it’s no longer just about her. It’s about her and her baby now, her son.
He stares at her, trying to see if she’s telling the truth, before giving a short nod. “Alright.” And this time it’s him who pulls her into a hug.
“Text when you get home, okay? And I’ll text back with John’s schedule so we can do breakfast, get some other things planned.”
She has to blink back tears, “That sounds great. I’ll text as soon as I’m inside. Drive safe.”
“You too.”
Week Twenty-Two
“What are you doing on the floor?” Andrew’s voice makes her straighten up, neck killing her from how she’s been hunching over. “What is she doing on the floor?” Andrew’s glaring at John as he helps her or rather makes her get off the floor with his help.
“Coffee table is too far from the couch, the dining room chairs hurt my back if I sit in them too long, and the floor was easier. John gave me two cushions to sit on.”
“I tried to tell her that we could move the coffee table closer.”
Now she’s glaring at John. “And I said I’m not messing with Andrew’s house.”
“My name is on the mortgage too.”
She rolls her eyes, not noticing Andrew doing the same. “It’s Andrew’s. You’d still be living in an apartment with one bedroom if it weren’t for him.”
A pout forms on John’s face at the truthful words and a smile blooms across her face as she watches Andrew go over and bend to kiss it off John’s face before helping him up as well.
“Next time, let John move the coffee table or whatever closer. I can always move it back,” Andrew tells her.
She gives a small nod, starting to bend to pick up a pile of photos, but before she can, Andrew is crouching down and grabbing them. A pile gets handed to her, another to John and then he quickly collects the ones scattered around.
“What were you guys exactly doing?”
Glancing down at her pile, her nose wrinkles, realizing it’s the throwaway pile. “I found a box of old photos, wanted to go through them.”
A quiet but strangled sort of sound leaves Andrew’s throat and her eyes fly to him, feet moving forward, and she’s happy to see John already having a hand hovering over Andrew’s arm.
“Andrew?” His voice is quiet, concern wrapping around the name.
His eyes are glued to the photo on top of the stack of photos he has in his hands. She can’t see what exactly the photo is.
“This,” his voice is strangled. “I know her. You have a photo of her?”
She moves forward, taking care to not brush against Andrew, not wanting to make his panic worse. Her frown grows as she sees what photo he’s looking at, at what caused his panic. “That’s my mom.” Her name leaves her lips with bitterness. She hated that her mom still made her upset.
“When were you born?”
Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, eyes catching on John, who looks just as confused as she does before they move to Andrew’s face, who is looking at her more closely than he ever has before. He’s so clearly searching for something in her face. Her birthdate comes out quietly because she knows that he knows it. He’s never once in the years he’s been with John and known her not left her a happy birthday message.
“Fuck.” He breathes and the sight of tears in his eyes has her carefully reaching forward, hand gently resting on his arm.
“Andrew, what’s wrong?”
“Your mom, I recognize her, I knew her. She was around for a couple of months. I wouldn’t say we ever dated, but we had sex. A lot of sex. And I don’t know if she was on birth control, but condoms, they aren’t a hundred percent.” Her heart stops at his words and at his next ones, her hand gently resting on his arm, turns into a grip. “When she left, she would’ve been two months pregnant with you.”
Her feet shuffle backwards, trying to find the couch, needing to sit and Andrew easily guides her, helping her sit. She doesn’t even process the sound of John on his phone and the words, paternity test, fast, discreet, she’s just staring at Andrew, looking at him in a whole new light as he crouches down in front of her so they are eye to eye.
“I had no idea, kid. No fucking clue. And I am so sorry, I am so sorry.”
He’s crying. She’s never seen Andrew cry before.
It has anger welling inside of her. She hasn’t been properly angry at her mom in years. It hasn’t been worth the energy and thought that it takes to be angry at her. She had better things to use her energy on, to think about. But now, she can’t help but be angry. Because over the last few weeks she’s learned about how much Andrew wanted a kid, wanted something selfishly that was half him. But he couldn’t do it when he wanted to. When John and he had finally decided to have a kid, John’s sister happily agreed to be their surrogate, because Andrew was sterile, infertile. All due to complications from a hernia surgery he had when he was twenty-four. She would’ve been nearly five then.
She didn’t think her mom could screw her up more and she hates that somehow her mom can still manage to surprise her. Because, of course, she would’ve gotten pregnant by a guy, a good guy, who wanted a kid so badly, had been torn apart by not being able to have one later, and kept it from him. Kept her from him.
“I would have been there for you. I would have taken you from her.”
Her heart aches at his words and reaches for his hands, holding them tight. “I’m sorry too.”
He bends, forehead pressing against their joined hands as a silent sob leaves him.
“I’ve got someone who will be here in thirty minutes to do a paternity test, rush order on it, we’ll know by dinner,” John says, voice quiet as he watches them both with tears in his own eyes.
—
She’s holding her breath as soon as John answers the phone, not even letting it ring for a second before he had picked up.
“Okay.” John nods. “Yeah, thank you.” And then he’s hanging up and pulling his phone away from his ear.
“They emailed me the results, better than just taking their word for it.”
Andrew and her both give a small nod.
She doesn’t think she’s ever looked so intently at someone’s face before, but she can’t blink, she can’t breathe as she looks at John’s face as he looks at his email.
She can see when he reads the result, the utter sadness that takes over his whole face, and her eyes close, unable to continue looking as she chokes back a sob. She had let herself hope, let herself want. And maybe it was foolish. God it obviously was stupid to let herself hope because, of course, Andrew isn’t her dad.
“John.” The sound of Andrew’s voice makes her open her eyes, blinking rapidly so she won’t cry.
“It’s…” There’s a look of amazement on John’s face. “The DNA is a ninety-nine point nine percent match.” He looks up from his phone, looking at them both, a large smile on his face. “Andrew, congratulations, it’s a bouncing baby girl.”
She’s not even able to let out a sob before she’s being embraced by Andrew, her face pressing into the crook of his neck as he holds her tightly and she holds him back, her grip probably painfully tight on him, but he doesn’t even flinch.
Through her sobs she can hear his voice, but not make out the words, not until finally her sobs die out and she can hear him clearly, saying words just for the two of them.
“I’m gonna be there for you now. Like how I should’ve been. I’ve got you, sweetheart. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”
Week Twenty-Seven
Her eyes are narrowed at Andrew in a glare and he’s glaring right back at her.
“Okay,” John says, stepping in between them, his hands gently resting on her shoulders. “How about we all take a deep breath. Andrew did not mean to overstep any boundaries.” And she can just barely see over John’s shoulder the way Andrew’s face falls at his words, and that face makes her anger die.
“He wasn’t overstepping.”
“Alright,” John murmurs, squeezing her shoulders before letting go and she easily moves to sit down before either of them says something about her being on her feet for too long.
“I can take care of myself.” She starts with saying when both Andrew and John sit as well.
“I know,” Andrew agrees with a small nod, a grimace on his face.
“I’ve been taking care of myself. I know that I am pregnant, that I am also now farther along, but I am still okay. I’m medically okay and so is the baby. The only abnormal thing that has happened is my low iron and I have been taking supplements for it. There is no reason for me to move in for the rest of my pregnancy.”
The room is silent and both her and John look at Andrew, watch as he tries to figure out what to say before finally the truth comes rolling out.
“I’m trying to make up for lost time. I’m trying to take care of you. And I can see that I should’ve stopped pushing after you said no when we offered. I’m sorry.”
“That makes sense. I think we both are trying to make up for lost time.”
He nods in agreement to that. “I also worry about you being home alone. As much as we are here for you, it’s a twenty minute drive away and you're by yourself. And when the baby comes,” he exchanges a look with John. “We know the apartment search isn’t going great. And sharing a bedroom with a newborn is common, but we figured you moving in for the last trimester of your pregnancy and the first few months of having the baby would help with creating a nest egg, maybe even a small down payment on a place.”
“You guys wouldn’t be charging me rent?”
“Fuck no.” They both say at the same time.
She has to clear her throat so she doesn’t laugh. “It’s very sweet of you both and I appreciate the offer more than I could possibly express, but for right now my answer is no. I like having my own space and the last thing I would want is to disturb your guys' space.”
“You wouldn’t be.” John says. “And I really mean that. I’m the only one really with a routine schedule and even then, that changes, I get called in unexpectedly. And Andrew would happily handle any changes if I meant you and the baby were happy, safe, and comfortable.”
Andrew gives a solemn nod, before a small bashful smile breaks out across his face. “I already started thinking about changes to the living room for a play pen and some cube shelves for him.”
“Oh,” She has to pause. “That is, uh,” she pauses again, clearing her throat as she tries not to cry. “That means a lot. Thank you.”
“Of course. You're my daughter. And it’s our first grandkid.”
She fans her face as a few tears start to fall. “Andrew, you suck.”
John laughs, “He’s been telling everyone about his daughter and our soon-to-be grandkid.”
“Our daughter.” She corrects.
They both look at her confused.
“Our daughter, Andrew, should be telling people about your guy's daughter. You’ve been the closest thing I had to a dad before Andrew for years, John. I’m your guy's daughter.”
“Oh,” John murmurs and there are tears in his eyes. “Well, now I’m not going to stop talking about our daughter and grandkid.”
“Like you already weren’t talking up a storm,” Andrew mutters, though a smile is on his face as he teases. “I’ve got messages from nurses to prove it.”
“Shut up,” John mutters, and she has to stifle a laugh when Andrew winks at her.
It’s after dinner they get back to the original topic of conversation they were having before Andrew had brought up her moving in.
“Still no luck with baby names?”
“Nothing. I’m not even really sure what I want.”
John nods, “That’s common. A lot of people don’t know until after they’ve had the baby. Some even go home with the baby and still don’t have anything.”
Her nose wrinkles at the idea. “I want to have a name for him. Something I can call him as soon as he’s put on my chest.”
“Well, we could start the easy way, calling out common names and you saying yay or nay,” John says, pulling out a notebook and pen.
“Alec.”
“No.”
“Alex.”
“No.”
“Bryan.”
“No. Are we going in alphabetical order?”
John rolls his eyes, “These were the first names that came to mind.”
Andrew starts rattling off a few, thankfully not in alphabetical order, but all no's.
“Charles.”
She immediately winces at the name and shakes her head. “I’m not naming the baby after its dad.”
"The dad's name is Charles?"
She nods, "Yeah, Charles."
Andrew and John share a look.
"Do you want to talk about him?"
A small scoff leaves her, "There's not much to talk about. We spent a week together. I've tried contacting him, gotten nothing back."
"You liked him."
She glares at Andrew and he just shrugs. "You did, do. And he obviously wasn't horrible if you keep trying to reach out, keep trying to make sure he knows about the baby."
She looks away, trying not to think about the scrapbook she's been putting together even though it's painful just for Charles. It's got all of her sonograms and once she started showing every few weeks, she also took a picture of her belly to add it. Along with little notes about cravings, appointments, how the baby moved, what their baby seemed to like.
"He was really nice," She finally says, and she can't look at them as she continues to speak. "It was supposed to be a one night stand. We were both on vacation, met at a club. It was just supposed to be a little fun and I stayed with him for a week. He was nice, charming, funny." She laughs because it wasn't like Charles had meant to be funny, he wasn't cracking jokes, but he was just naturally funny.
"We talked a lot, I talked to him about everything and he did the same, or maybe it just seemed like he did. Because he told me he wanted kids and well, who knows." She laughs, wiping at her eyes and finally looking back at them, both of them looking at her, looking at the devastation that is so clear on her face, heavy on her shoulders. "He was really nice." She repeats.
Week Thirty-Three
She wakes with a groan, head pounding, her back aching more than normal, the sun practically blinding her.
That makes her pause, trying to push past the fog in her brain because she keeps the curtains in her bedroom closed, so the sun doesn't blind her. She shouldn't be waking up with the sun in her eyes.
Blinking rapidly, trying to get her eyes to adjust, her breath catches when they finally do and she realizes she's sprawled out on the kitchen floor.
Her fingers scramble across the tile, trying to find grip as she tries to push herself up, but when her head begins to raise up, her vision swims and she gasps.
Her hand shakes as she moves to feel the back of her head, nearly sobbing at the pain the touch causes, but a sob of relief leaves her when she brings it to her face and there's no red to be seen.
"Okay, okay, okay." She whispers to herself. She needs to get up, she needs to get seen. She needs, her hand flies to her belly, another sob of relief leaving her when she presses and the baby immediately kicks the spot. "Okay, baby. We're okay."
She doesn't want to know how long it takes for her to sit up. Her vision still swimming, sweat dripping down her face, as she then struggles to get to her feet. Body swaying as she clutches at her countertop.
She has to slowly move to rest on her elbows, hands shaking as they reach for her phone, having to use both hands for it.
It takes her a second to remember her passcode and her fingers nearly slip off her screen as she tries to get to Andrew's number. Her fingers continue to fumble, nearly dialing an old coworker's number before they finally click on the correct contact.
It takes a few more seconds of her fingers fumbling to get the phone on speaker and right as she does, the call connects and his voice is ringing out, loud in her kitchen, in her head, that she flinches.
"Andrew, I need help. I need to go to the hospital."
It's quiet for a second and then his voice, firm, comes through. "I'm on my way. Don't hang up, keep talking to me."
She does, she isn't sure what she says, but it doesn't take long for him to be there, to get to her.
She barely remembers getting out to his truck, the drive to the hospital, her shock only breaking when they enter through the emergency room doors, Andrew's one arm a vice around her as he demands a doctor, and she watches as some of the doctors and nurses go to protest before catching a look at her and she's being sat in a wheelchair, orders being exchanged around her and Andrew keeps pace with the briskness of the hospital staff as they get her to a private room.
She wants to protest getting lifted onto the hospital bed, but her knees nearly buckle when she tries to stand and her baby means more to her than her pride.
"Can you tell us your name?"
She easily says it, watching the one nurse at the computer type it. She answers their next questions of her date of birth and today's date easily as well.
"How far along are you?"
"Thirty-three weeks." Her voice is quiet, hand clutching at her stomach.
The doctor, she tries to read the name tag, but her eyes refuse to focus on it. "Okay, we are going to get an ultrasound, but can you tell us what happened?"
"I think I fainted, I, I don't really know. I went to the kitchen to get some water to take my prenatal. It was just after nine, and next thing I know I was waking up on my kitchen floor."
"Alright, well, my name is Dr. Aollon, let's get you checked out. Does your head hurt?"
"The back of it, I think I hit it when I fell."
Dr. Aollon nods, and then is holding up a finger. She easily follows it, but when the penlight is brought out, she can tell her eyes don't react well.
"I've had some blurry vision and my eyes are having trouble focusing on words."
"I think you've got a mild concussion. I'm going to touch the back of your head now, okay?"
"Okay."
She can tell that they are being gentle, but she still lets out a whimper when fingers touch the back of her head.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay." She murmurs, trying not to cry, as they continue to feel. A sigh of relief leaves her when they finally stop touching.
"Mild concussion is looking more and more likely with how hard it seems your head hit the ground, blurred vision, and trouble with your eyes focusing. I want to get some blood drawn up, do some labs and give you an ultrasound now."
"Thank you." She murmurs as the ultrasound machine is brought in. "He's been kicking, but I don't," she can't continue and Andrew grasps her hand, holding it tight.
"The baby kicking is a good sign, a really good one," the doctor reassures.
Her panic and fear doesn't leave her at the words. Doesn't even leave at the sound of her baby's heartbeat finally filling the room. It only goes away when she's told after a painfully silent three minutes that the baby looks all good. And it hurts, but she sobs at the news.
"Your okay, your okay." She cries, touching her belly, feeling where he's kicking.
"Thank god." She hears Andrew mutter, and she squeezes his hand, beyond grateful he's with her, that he showed up.
"Andrew, thank you. Thank you so much."
Her eyes are filled with tears, they ache, but she can see the relief on his face as he shakes his head. "I told you, anytime and I'd come running. I'm just happy he's all good and you seem to have gotten lucky."
She nods, pressing her lips together as she tries not to cry more. "I'd like to stay with you and John, now. I'm really scared, Andrew. I don't," she can't say anything else as the thoughts of how much worse this could've been fill her head.
Andrew stands up, sitting on the very edge of the hospital bed and she presses her face into him as he wraps his arms around her. "Don't think about what could've happened. Don't stress yourself out more. As soon as John gets off shift, I'll go over to your place and pack you a bag. Once you feel a little better we can go back, get more of your stuff, alright?"
She gives a small nod, wincing at the movement. "Alright."
Week Forty-One
"Dr. Kane," She breathes a sigh of relief seeing her step into the room. "I thought you forgot about me." She teases, trying not to eye the clock for when her next contraction will hit her.
"I could never. How are you doing?"
"Good, really good." She sucks in a deep breath of air. "Labor is easy."
"Not gonna tell me the truth?
She gives her an apologetic smile, "Sorry. The contractions are horrible. Eight minutes apart now. I'm thirsty and sweaty."
Dr. Kane nods, looking at her for another second before looking at the tablet in her hands. "When you checked in, an hour ago, they were twenty minutes apart?"
She nods, "I thought it was braxton hicks at first, but they kept continuing and after an hour, John said it was time to come in."
"Well, John was right. Now, I want to check and see how far along you are. Water still hasn't broken?"
"Nope. But that's common right?"
"Yes, it's more than you'd think when a woman's water doesn't break, but that's okay, we can do it if it doesn't happen."
She nods, quietly thanking the nurse as she helps her put her foot in a stirup.
"Alright, I'm gonna check your cervix now, okay?"
"Okay."
She keeps her eyes on the ceiling, taking deep breaths, as Dr. Kane begins her examination.
"You are dilated six centimeters," Dr. Kane tells her.
"Four more to go."
Dr. Kane smiles at her, taking her gloves off. "Only four more to go. Can we get you anything?"
"My dads, Andrew and John. They should still be in the waiting room. They didn't want to come back, make me feel uncomfortable, but I want them."
Dr. Kane nods, "I'll go get them for you. And I'll be back to check on you in thirty minutes, alright?"
"Alright. Thank you."
"Of course."
—
When she had thought about this moment she thought her hands would be shaky, but as her baby is put on her chest, they are steady as she reaches for him, holding him against her.
"Hi, baby." She murmurs, tears spilling down her face as she looks at his wrinkled up face, his cries quieting as she holds him.
"He's beautiful."
She nods at John's words, unable to look away from him. "I'm supposed to let him go at some point?" She can't fathom the idea of ever putting him down.
Elle, her nurse, laughs. "It's hard, I felt the same with all four of my kids."
She doesn't want to let him go, but he's still covered in things and needs to be checked fully and she still has her placenta to deliver. So, reluctantly, she passes him over to the neonatal nurse and she opens her mouth to ask John to follow, but he's already doing it.
She watches where they take her baby, John following, but keeping a few steps back so he won't be in their way.
An eternity seems to pass before she finally gets her baby back in her arms, cheek resting above her heart and sleeping.
"You did real good, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"
She smiles at Andrew's words. "Tired, hungry, but happy. Really happy."
And she doesn't want to let him go, but she can't resist the slight chaos she has planned. So she forces her eyes off her son to look at Andrew.
"Want to hold your grandson?"
Andrew looks at her shocked, before he eagerly nods, reaching for him.
It pains her to let her baby leave her arms, but watching the way Andrew looks at him in awe is worth it.
"He's so small."
John smiles at his husband, wrapping an arm around him and peering down at the baby. "He kind of is. Only seven pounds and two ounces, twenty-two inches long though."
"He's perfect," Andrew says, voice thick.
"Want to know his name?" Her smile widens when they both nod. "His name is Jasper Andrew," she hesitates for a second but continues. "Leclerc."
They thankfully don't comment on his last name, can't. Too distracted by his middle name.
"Jasper Andrew?"
She nods. "Yeah, after one of his grandpa's. Which you two will have to fight over who is grandpa and who is pops or something. I'm leaving myself out of that fight."
The breath is nearly stolen from her lungs when Andrew passes John, Jasper, so careful, so gentle before wrapping her in a hug.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you." He murmurs into her hair and she clutches back at him.
Month Zero
Blocked. Blocked. Blocked. A cry of frustration nearly leaves her as the word keeps popping up on every account she goes to of Charles.
She doesn't know why she's surprised. Vinny had told her that Charles wanted nothing to do with the baby, but she knows why she is.
She was still holding on to hope that maybe he would change his mind. That he would want to be a part of Jasper's life. That he hadn't lied about wanting kids. That he hadn't lied to her.
But everything is pointing to him lying to her, to him not wanting any part of Jasper's life. It hurts her, it hurts her more when she thinks of how she'll have to explain this to Jasper in the future, having to tell him repeatedly that it wasn't anything he did.
She wonders if his eyes will resemble Charles' when he's old enough to understand that Charles didn't want him, full of pain, always seeming to linger.
Month Six
"Okay, my love." She murmurs to Jasper, taking him out of his stroller as he begins to fuss. As soon as he settles in her arms, he quiets and she has a small amount of regret for bringing the stroller, knowing she'll probably spend the whole walk holding him.
"You're really gonna make momma carry you for the whole walk?"
He makes a small noise and she smiles at the response, adjusting him in one arm, as her other reaches for the stroller to begin to push it.
"Alright, Jasper. This is Monaco." She keeps her voice low, only reaching his ears as they begin to walk. "Your father is from here. And while he might not be a part of your life, I want you to know where he comes from. So this is the start of our new tradition. Every April, we fly out, stay for a few days, explore, and then go back home."
He gurgles at the word home and she smiles, pressing her lips to his head.
"Smart boy. And to think grandpa thought pops and me were crazy for reading to you and talking to you like a normal person."
Ten minutes into their walk, she really starts to regret bringing the stroller. She wasn't planning on stopping anywhere on their walk through Monaco, but the sight of a cafe, the smell of pastries, calls to her.
She moves to cross the street, but before she can, she hears her name called out.
Her brow furrows in confusion and she turns to see, shock taking over her face, "Charles."
And this Tally Tuesday revolves around smut! All the options below are NSFW, 18+ only.
Acting Out (For You) - Jake Seresin
When the tension continues to not leave Jake’s body when he comes home. She goes for the last resort, breaking their rule of not touching herself.
Back to the Past - Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Charles, in a way, makes something happen for Max.
I Need You - Jon Moxley, Seth Rollins
Her husband is right there in bed for her, but why go for him when his best friend is right there as well.
No Fingers - Jack Abbot
She’s wanted one thing from him for months and after she hides something from him, Jack finally gives her what she wants.
What fic do you want to see first?
Acting Out - Jake Seresin
Back to the Past - Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
I Need You - Jon Moxley, Seth Rollins
No Fingers - Jack Abbot
Voting ended onJul 17
This fic would hopefully come out by August 1st, 2026!
Words: 2,163
Summary: Nolan hopes to ask her for lunch when he sees her passing by his office, but when he sees the sunglasses on her face and the bruise peeking out from behind them, his plans rapidly change.
Note(s)/Warning(s): Described Violence, Reader’s ex boyfriend hits her twice. Reader doesn’t want to report it. Reader is Baxter’s daughter. Age Difference. Nolan is a loverboy.
Masterlist | Support Me!
The sound of footsteps approaching his door makes Nolan raise his head, blinking as his vision adjusts to no longer having words swimming in it.
He rises from his desk quickly, smoothing his tie down as he sees the woman passing by his office briskly. Leaning against the door frame, he notices the files in her hand, and his lips thin as they press together so he doesn't laugh or grin. He hadn't planned on stopping for lunch today, but he can't miss the opportunity to get lunch with her, to spend time with her.
When she comes back, pace still brisk, he speaks. "Nick forget things again?"
She slowly stops in front of him and his eyes narrow for a second as he takes in the sunglasses adorning her face. That was odd. And so was the way she kept the right side of her face slightly turned away. "Seems to be happening every week."
"I'd say something about old age but I think it's because he likes to see you."
She smiles at his words and the sight of her smile makes him smile. "Probably. He'll be upset I decided to drop them off during his lunch meeting."
"I'm sure he'll just forget something on Monday to make up for it."
A small huff of laughter leaves her, head tilting down a little, and his smile fades as he catches the sight of a bruise behind her sunglasses.
"What happened?" Nolan keeps his voice soft, shifting so he can hide his one hand behind himself as it balls into a fist.
Her mouth twists up, a sigh leaving her, and she reaches up, taking her sunglasses off.
A hiss leaves him at the sight of her bruised and nearly swollen shut eye.
He quickly ushers her inside of his office. Shutting the door, he also locks it before going to the windows and shutting the blinds. He goes over to the other door, quietly cursing not for the first time that he has two doors in his office. The lock is little finicky on this door but he gets it to lock.
Turning around, he carefully approaches her, and when she doesn't flinch or back away from him, he reaches out, gently placing a hand on her arm and steers her over to a chair.
When she sits, setting her bag in her lap, he crouches in front of her. His knees protest the quick movement, already not happy with him for not stretching properly after his morning workout. He looks over her face carefully, taking in the stretched out, bruised, skin surrounding her eye. As he peers more closely, his frown grows as he notices that she has makeup on her face, makeup that under her eyes is trying to conceal a bruise.
"May I?" He gestures towards her bag and she gives a small nod.
Reaching into her bag, he doesn't have to feel around for long before his fingers find what he's looking for. He pulls out the small pack of makeup wipes, taking one out, he pauses waiting for her to nod again before he starts to wipe away the makeup as gently as he can. Whispering the word sorry every time she winces.
When the full bruise is revealed, nearly taking up the whole right side of her face, he rocks back on his heels at the sight, at the warmth, no, rather the heat pouring off her skin.
"What happened."
He means to ask, like he had before, but he misses the mark and the only reason he doesn't flinch back, doesn't apologize is the way she gives a small smile and her hand reaches for his. It's the first contact she's made with him today and he grabs onto it like a lifeline.
"My ex, Jake, showed up at my apartment last night. He wanted to come in, wanted a second chance. I said no to both," she pauses, her lips pressing together. "He got upset, angry. Tried to push his way in, I lost my footing for a second, he got a foot in the door. I tried shutting the door on his foot, was telling him to leave." She shakes her head, eyes closing, and Nolan has to remind himself to breathe as he watches her.
"That made him more angry, he hit me. I think I made a cry or something because he told me to be quiet, hit me again, which made me make a noise again. He was going to hit me a third time but my neighbor opened their door, told him to get lost. Thankfully, he did."
Nolan squeezes her hand, gently, barely there. "What did you do after that?"
Her eyebrow raises at the question and he gives a sorry smile, because he knows it's the same thing he's asked victims, but he doesn't take back his question.
"Locked my door, stayed up all night. He came back around at six am, on his way to work I imagine, but I stayed quiet, didn't even get up from the couch."
"You could've called me." He can't help but say. "I would've,"
"I know, Nolan."
He wants to push, but he knows better. So, he changes direction. "Have you been to the hospital, a clinic? You could have a fracture, maybe even a break."
She shakes her head, "I'm fine. It's just swollen and bruised. I've been switching between tylenol and ibuprofen every four hours."
"I'd feel better if you get it checked out." He tries but when she shakes her head again.
"I just need rest. And," she sighs. "to book a hotel room for a few days."
"You don't want to stay with Nick?"
She gives him a look. "You think I want my dad to know about this? No. He'll probably find out eventually but not right now, not when it's fresh and this will put him in a fit of rage. I also don't want to put him out by staying with him for a few days."
It's his turn to give her a look back. "You think you'd be putting him out?"
She doesn't say anything to that and he stifles a laugh, shifting a little as his knees begin to ache from his crouching, but he doesn't get up, not with the next thought that pops into his head.
"You could stay with me for a few days. You wouldn't be putting me out."
Her other hand joins their intertwined hands, holding his hand between hers now. "Is that really a smart idea?"
"I don't see why not."
He smiles when she gives him another look and he has to look away from her for a second to not let it grow into something uncontrollable.
"I think it's a perfectly smart idea and it's not like I'm saying we should share my bed. I have a guest room and I can always sleep on the couch." He pauses, moving his head a bit to look in her the eyes. "This isn't me trying to make a move. I know we had our first date a few days ago. This isn't me trying to get," he pauses, giving a small laugh, "lucky."
"That's not what I thought you were trying to do Nolan. You'd be a lot smoother than that."
He nods, not able to deny that.
"And," she adds. "I have no problem with sharing a bed with you."
He smiles at her, but his eyes are narrowed in confusion. "Then what's the problem?"
"We've been on one date."
"And been dancing around things for nearly six months."
She gives him a look but doesn't deny it. "My problem is," she gives a small sigh. "I don't want to push you too fast."
His head rears back a little. "What?" He laughs.
"Nolan, we danced around for six months, forgive me for thinking your more of a slow paced guy in this relationship."
His hand twitches in her hold, instinctively going to smooth his tie down, but he doesn't move it from her hands. "Slow paced?"
He shouldn't like so much the way she smiles at his offense.
"I thought we were both dancing around. We might need to work on our communication."
A laugh leaves her, "Suggesting couples counseling already?"
"No," He laughs, shaking his head. "I guess I just need to be more forward."
Her eyebrows raise, intrigue clear on his face and carefully, he shifts closer to her.
"I wanted to ask you out after our first conversation. I should've asked you out after I bought you a coffee that first time. I would like for you to come stay with me for a few days, to share my bed, and go on two maybe even three dates while your there. I also will probably not want you to leave and try and find reasons for you to stay longer. And it will be up to you whether you continue to pretend to believe those excuses and live with me until it's been three months and I can say why don't you just move in. Or after I convince you to stay for an extra week, you'll go back to your place. I'll sulk for a few days but get over it and you could end up moving in with me in three months anyways."
She stares at him with wide eyes and he holds his breath as she opens his mouth, preparing himself for the worst.
"I've never seen your place, what if I hate it?"
A shocked laugh leaves him. "Then I guess we'd find a place together to move into."
"You really mean that?"
He gives a small shrug. "I love my place, it's nice, but if we want to live together, it should be a place we both love."
"Okay, I'll stay with you for a few days."
Nolan grins at her quiet words, "Okay."
Standing slowly, he winces at the pain in his knees. He knows from experience though it will go away if he keeps moving around, walking. Which that thought and her agreement of staying with him leads him over to his desk. Carefully, gathering up what he was working on and placing it in his bag. It was just after one and he never left work early, but it wasn't like he was currently involved with a case. He'd be fine to go now.
"Do you want to reapply your makeup before we leave?"
He turns to look at her as he puts his coat back on, watching as she shakes her head, standing up, sunglasses back on.
"I have the feeling your gonna make me go and get checked out before we go to yours."
He gives an apologetic smile, but doesn't apologize for it. "I'll buy you dinner after." He promises and she smiles, extending her hand out to him. He moves forward, reaching out and intertwining their fingers, giving her hand a squeeze once they are side by side.
"Clinic first?"
He hesitates, "Do you want me to go with you for that? I could always go to yours, pack you a bag, or even just wait outside the clinic until your done."
Her hand squeezes his. "I'd really like if you'd come with me. It might be a little uncomfortable for you though. They'll want to talk to me alone, probably give me some domestic violence pamphlets."
Nolan has to stop himself from moving closer to her, from kissing her at her concern over him and his comfort. "I can handle some glares from the nurses and doctors." He pauses. "I know you don't want to report it."
She doesn't glare at him, but her eyes narrow.
"And I'm not going to try and tell you too, but I know a few detectives who owe me favors, who could meet us at the clinic and just take a statement, hold on to it, just in case something happens again."
Her eyes are no longer narrowed as she looks at him, clearly considering and after a moment she nods. "Okay. Have someone meet us there. And thank you."
He wants to tell her that she doesn't need to thank him, she never needs to thank him, but that's not a fight he wants to start, not now, not so soon into their relationship. So he gives her hand another squeeze and slowly leans closer and when she leans closer to him, he brushes his lips across her forehead. Heart skipping a beat at the pleased sigh she gives at the contact, at the way she leans further into the small amount of contact.
He wonders if she'll always respond that way when he kisses her forehead or if one day she'll grow use to the sensation. He equally doesn't want her to ever stop making the sound but also the loves the idea of her growing use to contact between them. Nolan can't wait to find out.
It’s Tally Tuesday!
Something new I’ve decided to do. It won’t be every Tuesday (I think), but I want to know what everyone would like to see in the near future. Sometimes the tallies (polls) will be general, others, like this one, will be very specific with just one fandom being presented and even a date for when the fic that wins should be posted!
So for the first Tally Tuesday here are the options!
A Myriad of Songs - Liam Lawson
Since she started writing songs she’s always been open about who or what inspired her… except for the songs that are about her secret muse.
Hatred and Resentment - Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Assigning a medical proxy had been easy for Max.
How Do Relationships Work? - Pierre Gasly
She’s never been in a relationship but she knows from friends that this isn’t how they work.
Weeks & Months - Charles Leclerc (Part One)
After a week together, they part with a final kiss and unknowingly a baby growing inside her.
What fic do you want to see first?
A Myriad of Songs - Liam Lawson
Hatred and Resentment - Charles/Max
How Do Relationships Work? - Pierre Gasly
Weeks & Months - Charles Leclerc
Voting ended onJul 10
This fic would hopefully come out next race weekend, so July 19th, 2026!
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Words: 773
Summary: Max asks her if she wants to have sex and she says no before instantly freezing.
Note(s)/Warning(s): Mild NSFW for discussions about sex. Max is kind of boyfriend goals in this fic but also like the bar is in fucking hell man.
Masterlist | Support Me!
"Do you want to have sex?"
She doesn't even blink at Max's blunt question, her head doesn't even raise from where it's buried in what she's doing.
It's not the first time Max has asked her that, she's lost count in the last year and a half that they've been together.
Max was blunt about everything and while he could and often did go for more a subtle approach when he wanted sex, she couldn't help but smile a little every time he bluntly asked her. It was a turn on in itself usually, that he didn't feel the need to be subtle, to be charming, he felt like he could just be himself.
This time, for the first time, it doesn't bring a smile to her face. Eyes flickering over her laptop screen as her nose scrunches up as she makes another note. "Not right now, in an hour maybe."
The words leave her lips without thought but after they've escaped she instantly freezes, eyes going wide. Why had she said that? Why had she done that? She should've just said yes.
"Sounds good to me." The sincere tone in Max's voice makes her wince. And she shuts her laptop with another wince.
"We can," she stumbles over her words. "We can have sex right now."
He looks at her with raised eyebrows, not moving from the couch. "You said in an hour." He gives a shrug. "That's good for me. I wasn't asking for sex right now, just asking if you wanted sex today."
"I don't want to give you blue balls."
Max blinks at her meek tone, her guilty expression, and he moves off the couch and over to her. He moves her laptop off her lap and puts it gently down before crouching down in front of her, purposely putting himself below her, under her, and reaches for her hands but only grabs them when she reaches in turn.
"Blue balls aren't a thing." He starts with and she immediately protests.
"But,"
"No, they aren't. They are something guys say because they want sex and don't care how they get it or about who they are sleeping with."
She can't help but smile at how blunt he is, at the distaste on his face, the anger hiding behind it because she doesn't have to say where she got the idea of blue balls. It was the same place she got the idea that her orgasm ing every time they had sex wasn't a thing. Her past relationships had been lacking, in some ways she was aware of and other ways she only realized once her and Max got together.
"I hate guys like that. I've never understood it. If your that turned on, fuck your hand. Don't pressure someone." Max continues to rant, passionate and angry in a way she only really sees him get when a race goes horribly wrong. It also happens to be a major turn on.
And now she doesn't want to have sex in hour, well she might want to have sex again in an hour, but she wants to have sex right now.
She makes a small uh huh sound when his eyes cut to her mid rant, wanting to know if she agrees, and the small absent minded sound of agreement lets him continue. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips as she watches him. Watches the way his face is now flushed red, the red no longer just creeping up his neck. Max is gorgeous when angry and she can't clench her thighs together, can't rub them together, get some sort of relief, not with how Max has put himself.
So she waits.
She waits for him to take a breath and before he can open his mouth to start ranting again and she makes sure to do this sparingly. Because she knows that nearly everyone in Max's life has told him to shut up, has told him to be quiet, to stop talking. But she loves to hear him talk, to rant, to ramble. But she thinks if he doesn't touch her, she doesn't touch him, in the next minute, she might somehow orgasm just from watching him be worked up.
He takes a breath and she leans forward, down slightly, and steals the breath from him. Lips slotting together.
When they break apart and her eyes open again, though she's not sure when she closed them, she stares into Max's wild eyes.
"Could we have sex? Right now?"
A smile grows across his face, a breathless sort of laugh leaving him. "Yeah, we can have sex right now."
Words: 1,403
Summary: When she says that a lyric in a song is impossible, Ollie takes it upon himself to show her that it is. (Fourmula Oh’s verse)
Note(s): NSFW, Smut, Leclerc!Reader, Established Relationship between Ollie, Pierre, Logan and reader. Inspired by Casual by Chappel Roan. Logan is only mentioned in this fic.
Takes place after ‘Viral Tweet’.
Fourmula Oh's verse | Masterlist | Support Me!
A small snorts leaves her as she listens to lyrics.
Ollie looks over at her, taking his eyes off the road, "what?"
"Nothing." She laughs, reaching forward and turning the music down before shifting to look at him. Admiring how he looks driving since she couldn't deny him the chance to drive one of Charles' Ferrari's after her brother finally allowing her to. "Just the song. 'Knee deep in the passenger seat and your eating me out.' Just a little… impossible." She laughs again, shaking her head.
His eyebrows are raised, "Impossible?"
She considers for a second, "okay, unrealistic. There are very few cars that would have enough room in the footwell for that and even then the person doing the eating out would still have to be small, compact, so would probably the person getting eaten out." She smiles, reaching over to trail her fingers over his thigh. "It's not easy like me bending over the center console to suck your dick."
Her fingers begin to trail upwards, but before she can reach his bulge, he's grasping her hand, pushing it away and pulling off the side of the road.
"Ollie?"
He doesn't say anything, just gets out of the car, door shutting behind him.
She watches as he rounds the car and opens her door, she reaches for her seat belt, unbuckling it, but before she can start to exit the car, Ollie is reaching for the lever, perfectly exposed with the car door wide open, and the passenger seat goes as far back as it's able. A gasp leaving her.
"Ollie." This time is his name is a murmur on her lips and he smiles, mischief dancing in his eyes.
"Take off your shorts and underwear."
Her eyes dart to the road, but like it usually is, it's empty, abandoned really, and she toes off her shoes, bending to quickly gather them up and toss them in the driver's seat. Lifting her hips, she takes off her shorts and underwear at the same time. With her hips still lifted, she puts the shorts on the seats, trying to protect the seat as much as she can. She nearly startles when she lowers her hips and feels the fabric of her shorts.
Ollie swallows roughly as he looks at her and she watches as he forces himself to tear his eyes away to look at the footwell.
"You might not fit." She teases and his eyes darken, clearly thinking of the other time she's said those words to him and her thighs press together in response.
It surprisingly only takes a minute or two for Ollie to comfortably fit himself into the footwell, hands settling on her thighs. Her legs in the air, feet on the dash certainly helping him fit.
She expects him to tease her, to make her say that he's right, even if that is far more of a Pierre thing than an Ollie thing. Instead he hunches down, burying his face between her thighs, and her nails sink into the seat as she moans.
A groan leaves him and she doesn't know if it's in response to her moan or at the taste of her on his tongue but the vibrations of it make her clenching around nothing, whining when his tongue teases her hole before licking over her clit.
Her one hand goes to his hair as she tries not to scream when he sucks on her clit and her nails in his scalp seem to encourage him with the way he sucks a bit harder before taking his mouth away just to blow on her clit.
He has her thighs shaking, already so close to orgasming, and she tries to keep his head away, hand moving from his head to his forehead, and he takes a hand off her thigh to force her hand back where it was on his head. Blowing on her clit again before pressing the flat of his tongue against it, shaking his head a little.
She can't stop herself from orgasming with a sob, her thighs shaking.
"Ollie, please." She begs, tears gathering in her eyes as he continues to play with her clit. "I need," she cuts herself off with a moan.
"I know." He murmurs, finally backing away, but his lips are hovering over her inner thigh. Lips just barely brushing the skin as his lips move. "I know, you need another one already. I'll give it to you."
She shakes her head, protesting, but their safe word doesn't leave her lips and he's burying his face between her thighs again. This time properly eating her out and not just playing, torturing, her clit.
His tongue presses inside her, teasing at first, before fully pressing in, his nose nudging at her clit, and the feeling as her crying out.
It's too much, she's too sensitive, he didn't give her a break, and he continues to not give her one.
After her third orgasm, her hand leaves the seat that probably has indents from her nails to grab her phone.
She can barely see through the tears still streaming down her face, it's muscle memory that serves her.
"Pierre." She whines when he picks up. "Tell, Ollie to stop, please tell him to stop."
"What is he doing?"
A high pitched whine leaves her as Ollie harshly sucks on swollen clit. "He's," she pants, struggling. "He won't stop eating me out. Pierre, I can't."
Pierre gives a click of his tongue, the sound just barely traveling over the phone. "You said you two were going for a drive in Charles' car."
"We did. But now," She can't finish her sentence, losing track of what she was going to say as Ollie continues to torture her.
"But now, what?"
Her lip quivers at the harsh tone of Pierre's voice and despite not being able to see her, he seems to know, because his voice softens.
"Tell me what happened."
"Listening to music and I said you couldn't eat someone out in the passenger seat."
Pierre gives an amused chuckle. "And Ollie had to prove you wrong?"
"Yes and I want him to stop. I've," she starts to cry as Ollie bites lightly at her clit. "I've cum three times."
"Do you need to use your safeword?"
"No," She shakes her head. "Want you to tell him to stop." She's pouting now and Ollie shows his displeasure with her wanting him to stop by turning his head and biting at her inner thigh, right over a hickey Logan had given her before he had to leave for simulator work.
"Have you been recording?"
She feels like she's been dunked into cold water at Pierre's words and she gently slaps at Ollie's head, looking at him with wide eyes and she watches as the pleasure so clear on every inch of his face, fades a bit as he catches the scared look on her face. "No."
Pierre gives a hum. "Pictures?"
"No, no pictures."
Ollie's eyes are now wide, expression matching hers. They both knew the rule and they had broken it. Stupidly broken it.
Four people was a lot of people in a relationship. And they all had different schedules. While her and Logan did have more freedom with theirs, they still had things they had to leave and go do. Even with Ollie and Pierre both being in F1 didn't leave them with the exact same schedule, not with different teams and obligations pulling at them. It had made them all agree, considering that a large basis of their relationship was sex, that anytime they had sex, especially when doing something new, a quick video or at least a photo was taken during to be shared in their groupchat.
And with her and Ollie having decided to have sex in public, something Ollie never really did, Pierre was the real exhibitionist of them all, of course Pierre would've expected a video, would've been upset but accepted a photo.
"He's not allowed to stop eating you out." His voice is louder now and she can tell that Ollie hears his words. "Not until I say so or you safeword. Put me on speaker."
"Yes, sir." They both murmur at the same time after she puts Pierre on speaker, setting the phone back in the cup holder.
A throaty groan leaves him. "Eat her out, Ollie. Make her cry again for me."
Words: 938
Summary: Liam has a thing about resting his hand on her stomach, she grows to love it, but it does have consequences.
Note(s): Mild NSFW
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Panting breaths fill the room and where she had been perfectly lax, she stiffens as Liam's hand moves from her hip to rest over her stomach. It's always a shocking touch, but now, without clothes, after sex, she can't help but feel uncomfortable with where he's touching.
He feels her stiffen and he moves his a head a little, nuzzling at her neck as he stops panting, brushing his lips against the soft skin. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Liam's eyebrows raise and he pulls his head away from her. "Nothing?"
"Nothing."
The repeated single word response does nothing to convince him and he turns onto his side, hand slipping away from her stomach as his arm is no longer forced to reach over his body to hers. It quickly finds it way back however and with it she stiffens and his eyes narrow, falling to where his hand is resting, falling to what made her stiffen, his touch and he practically yanks his hand away.
"Fuck. I'm sorry. Y/N, I had no idea."
"No, no," she quickly reassures him as he starts to back away, hands framing his face. "I like it when you touch me. I enjoy it." Blood rushes to her face at her quiet words and she can see his cheeks, flushed pink from exertion turn red, but he looks back at her confused.
"Then,"
She cuts him off, "Then why do I stiffen?" She looks away from him for a second. "I just don't understand why you want to touch me there. It's my stomach." The it's weird is silent, but Liam still gets offended.
"It's not weird." He mutters, but he pushes away his offense. "I never noticed I did it." He admits. He hadn't realized that his hand would drift there. He always reached to rest a hand on her waist or to grasp at her hip. His hand just seemed to have a mind of it's own. "I'll stop though. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."
She softens at the sincerity in his eyes and it's easy for her to reach for his one hand and place it on her stomach. "I can get used to it."
And she did get used it. It had taken a while to get used to his hand finding it's way to her stomach, to rest there, but she does and soon after she gets used to it, she grows to love it. It was different, something unique to them.
The more comfortable she got with the touch, the more Liam started to do it. It had started as something he did without knowing, but he also started doing it intentionally. He used the small touch to calm her, to steady her, to reassure her.
It was a shame however the touch gave people the wrong idea.
It started with her mom, then his mom, an aunt, a cousin, random strangers on the street or in the store, and then of course it was strangers on the internet.
"Maybe I should stop."
"No."
Liam lets out a small laugh at her quick refusal, but his eyes are still serious, still looking at the instagram account that was watching and detailing her apparent pregnancy.
"Liam," her voice softens and he looks at her. "It's okay. You could never touch my stomach and this would end up happening at some point."
"I don't want this for you, for us. I feel like I made it happen."
"hey," She moves closer to him, a hand gently resting on the back of his neck, pressing their foreheads together. "You didn't. I knew what could potentially happen when we got together, I knew what I was in for when you made it to F1. BF you are worth it. We are worth it. So, if they want to speculate that I'm pregnant because you touch me on my stomach, they can just continue to be disappointed as months pass and my stomach doesn't grow and a baby is never in my arms."
"My arms." He corrects, nudging their noses together and she laughs.
"Your arms?"
He kisses her, soft and sweet. "My arms. I'd have both my babies in my arms. Wouldn't let you hold them until I had to be in the car."
"I'll remember that." It's meant to be a playful threat but Liam says his next words like a vow.
"Good, I never want you to let me forget what I promised you, promised us, and I'll try my best to never forgot."
She knows tears are glistening in her eyes and her voice is choked when she speaks. "That nearly sounds like a proposal."
He carefully runs his thumbs under her eyes, catching her tears before they can begin to fall. "I wouldn't propose to you like this. Can't ruin my plan."
"You have a plan?" She laughs, more tears falling and he smiles at her.
"Of course I do. I know exactly when I'm going to propose."
She wants to hide her face and giggle at the nerves she can see on him, not on his face, but in his hands that are so gentle on her face, but trembling. "I'll say yes. I'd say yes if you proposed right now."
Tears of his own are in his eyes as he laughs, something breathless. "Save your yes for next week for me."
"I can do that."
"Okay." Liam laughs again and the relief on his face is overwhelming and she has to kiss him.
"I love you." he whispers when they break apart and she whispers it back just as quickly as he said it.
Summary: After meeting a gorgeous boy in a club, she can’t get him out of her head. (SMAU)
Note(s): SMAU, Inspired by the song Gorgeous by Taylor Swift. I got this idea in like 2024 (maybe even 2023) and it’s finally been written! Also, had to write something for Pierre considering his penalty got taken away and officially finished P3 in Monaco!
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yourusername
Liked by friend1, friend2, and 89 others
yourusername: Club Heartache
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friend1: girl… I thought you went home after us???
friend2: Of course you met someone after we left
yourmother: My beautiful girl
⤷ yourusername: love you momma!
yourusername
Liked by friend1, yourmother, and 131 others
yourusername: Found An Ocean Blue That’s All Mine
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yourmother: You look so happy!
⤷ yourusername: I am!
friend1: can’t believe you said two day vacation with new boyfriend and not mention the ocean???
⤷ yourusername: I mentioned sunny two day vacation!
⤷ friend1: … it was sunny the two days you were gone!
friend2: The poor soul who had to take these photos of you two being loved up 😂
⤷ yourusername: excuse you, she was also loved up
user01: You guys look so cute!
⤷ yourusername: thank you!
pierregasly
Liked by charlesleclerc, f1wags, and 99,325 others
pierregasly: 6 months of you and I
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charlesleclerc: Time for me to take up photography 😝
⤷ pierregasly: Yes, thank you Charles for the photo. alexandramalenaleclerc thank you for the other two photos!
alpinef1team: Race weekend as the next date?
f1wags: excuse me??? There hasn’t been a single rumour about this
user02: I’ve lost my chance 😭
⤷ user03: you never had a chance
⤷ user02: in my dreams I did
user04: She looks so pretty!
⤷ user05: Pretty ugly
yourusername
Liked by friend2, f1wags, and 1,195 others
yourusername: Gorgeous Boy
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friend02: He’s really making sure all your beach dreams come true
⤷ yourusername: he is!
alexandramalenaleclerc: Looks like you had an amazing time!
⤷ yourusername: we did! Thank you for telling me about it!
user05: f1wags
f1wags: well this is interesting
pierregasly
Liked by yourusername, charlesleclerc and 154,832 others
tagged: yourusername
pierregasly: Gorgeous Girl
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yourusername: not as gorgeous as you
⤷ pierregasly: You are wrong, but I still love you
alpinef1team: Welcome to the team Y/N!
user06: oh she is gorgeous!
user02: Can’t even be mad I lost my chance with Pierre. I just want to be their third now
f1wags: new wag on the grid!
Words: 505
Summary: Charles comes home after qualifying and finds his wife trying to keep him out of their bedroom.
Note(s)/Warning(s): NSFW, Mild Smut, Got inspired when after quali and I finally went on twitter I saw Charles being not depressed because he knew he did as best as he could and that the car was at fault and that was hot to me so… this happened. May he have an amazing Monaco Grand Prix
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Charles lets out a sigh as the front door closes behind him and he can't help but lean back against it, body relaxing as he takes a deep breath and is greeted with the near perfect smell of home.
A quiet laugh leaves him as he feels a small tug on his shoelaces and he bends, quietly scolding Leo. Pushing the small dog away, holding him back with one hand, as his other works to loosen his shoelaces before taking the shoes off, making sure to put them in their designated spot.
"Mon amour," he calls out, petting Leo before the dog walks away and back to his pet bed. "I am ready for my cuddles."
"Charles?"
His eyebrows press together at the slight panic and surprise in her voice and he straightens, beginning to walk towards their bedroom.
"Give me like fifteen minutes here and then we can cuddle."
His lips form a pout at her words, confusion making his eyebrows furrow more, and his head jerks back a bit when he reaches their bedroom and sees the door closed. "Why do you need," the question dies on his lips when he swings the door open.
Charles' lips part, tongue darting out to wet his lips, his eyes wide, feet unable to move, and hands shaky.
She looked like a goddess, more so than usual.
Completely naked in their bed, a hand on her breast, gripping it like he did when they had rough sex. And her other hand, her other hand isn't buried in between her thighs, can't be, because her legs are wide open, thighs spread apart like he's in between them as her hand cups her cunt and a rough moan leaves him when he sees that her fingers are shiny.
"You didn't want me in here for this?" He can't help but be offended as his eyes greedily drink her in and he finally gets his feet to move, shutting the bedroom door. Stripping his clothes off as he gets closer to the bed.
"You have a race tomorrow. Monaco tomorrow." Her voice is a little breathless, eyes wild as she looks at him, looks at his hardening cock.
Charles scoffs. "And you think I can't fuck my wife the night before a race?"
Her eyes flutter shut at his words and he knows that the memories of nights where he has fucked her before a race are flooding her mind much like they flooded his.
"It's Monaco." She finally manages to say, breathless. "I just thought you wouldn't be in the mood."
He has to hold back another scoff, getting onto the bed and putting himself between her legs, her thighs. "When have I ever not been in the mood to fuck you, to fuck my wife." His lips brush over her collarbone with the last few words. Loving how the feeling makes her shiver. "So, can I fuck my wife?"
"Yes." Her answer is swift and her hands are on him, pulling at him. "Please, Charles. Please, fuck me."
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going from an hour to 3 hours is diabolical and you were given no warning to prepare 😭 like an hour is not bad you can scroll or yap but I would definitely be bickering with my family in the second hour
having a book of like Sudoku, word searches, crosswords, and those types of puzzles could be so nice! grab one from the store if you haven't already
so far I've been surviving my classes but with finals right around the corner we'll see what happens, hopefully I didn't just jinx myself 🤞🏽
- 🌱
In reference to this ask
It was in fact diabolical and I'm still slightly confused how it happened. Like it took us not even an hour to get to the place and then three to get home... It was an adventure 😂
I haven't been to the store yet (many errands have been run lately but oddly none involving the grocery store) but I do have a sudoku/puzzle book on my list of to buys!
I'm wishing you all the luck on your remaining classes and finals!
Words: 578
Summary: When Tom comes back to his off base housing, he's met with an unusually quiet house and only his girlfriend inside.
Note(s)/Warning(s): Death of a pet (a cat) is what this fic is about, so please be warned. Takes place either during Top Gun (1986) or in the yearish after. I had to go with my grandma today to the vet to put down her cat and it really never gets easier losing a pet and made me wish I could just have someone to hold me and not let go until I said so. So really this fic is wish fulfillment and self indulgent to the max.
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Tom's brows furrow as he reaches the front door, turning the knob, expecting it to be locked as it usually is, only for it to swing open.
Stepping inside, his worry grows when he's hear how quiet it is. His fingers quickly moving to shut and lock the door before bending at the waist to untie and take his boots off. It's only habits and routine that has him putting his keys, wallet, and sunglasses away.
His feet leading him to the living room and his heart stops when he sees his girlfriend, arms crossed over her chest, breath hitching and eyes swollen from crying.
"What happened? Are you okay?"
"Tom."
The sound of his name in near sob has him flying over to her, hands hovering around her. "What's going on?"
Her bottom lip trembles, "It's uh, I had to take Lav to the vet."
His eyes move to the couch, where Lav should be curled up, soaking in the sun, if she doesn't get up to curl around his legs as he tries to take his boots off, but she isn't there and she wasn't there to greet him at the door.
His arms wrap around her, pulling her into him, lips pressing against her head as she buries her face into him. "She wouldn't get up this morning so I took her and," she sobs. "She's gone, Tom, she's gone."
"Oh, baby." He breathes, his eyes squeezing shut, trying not to cry with her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
She's shaking in his arms and he holds her tighter, unable to imagine what she's going through. They've only been together two years, he's only known Lav for a little bit less, only living with them for a year now. But she's had Lav for seventeen years, since she was six years old. Lav saw her through the death of her grandma, her cheating high school boyfriend, high school graduation, came with her when she moved to go to college. She also saw her through meeting Tom, graduating college, moving in with Tom, and then moving again with Tom.
Tom and her had both been holding onto hope that she'd be there for when Tom proposed, when they got married, and maybe if they were really lucky their first child. His heart aches as he thinks about what Lav hadn't been able to see her through and it makes him wish he was there for Lav's last moments.
He wants to tell her she should've called the base, called his office number, and pleaded a family emergency. He would've left immediately and rushed to the vet's office, to be there for her, to hold her. He hates to think of her having to gather up Lav to take her to the vet's all on her own and then sitting by herself and holding Lav alone as Lav was put down. But he knows if he said any of that she'd remind him that she promised to only bother him on base if it was truly an emergency and that this wasn't an emergency, just a painful moment.
He takes a deep breath at his own thoughts, at her words echoing in his mind, 'it's not an emergency Tom, just a painful moment'.
"What can I do to help you right now?"
"Hold me and don't let go." She murmurs.
His arms tighten more around her. "Never. I won't let you go until you tell me to."
you're stuck in the car already but top tips for a long hard drives, lots of snacks, a coloring book, a physical craft, headphones or earbuds, playlist downloaded, some of your favorite fics downloaded like the kinds that you can reread over and over without getting sick of them, an eye mask for a nap and potentially possible good company four people who understand the boundaries of needing to be left alone
hope you survive the ride (I started typing this out between classes so you might already be at your destination by now)
-🌱
I appreciate this so much!
I'm usually good in the car but it went from being a less than one hour drive to nearly three hours (I am home now). I got very luck that I actually remembered to take my purse with me since it had my power bank and phone charger in it because I don't know if I would have survived if my phone died 😂
You have reminded me that I need to buy and stash a sudoku book in the car just incase this happens again (it probably will).
I never do this, but for a fic I'm currently writing I've made a playlist for it.
@checkeredflagggs helped me with it and while I don't think this will be the next fic to get posted, I am hoping to have it written and posted by the end of June.
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Oh oh oh! What about chuck/orange/reader and dark fic AND fake dating AND possessiveness
Title: Notes - Orange Cassidy/Reader/Chuck Taylor
Words: 764
Blurb Request Prompt(s): Dark, Fake Dating, Possessiveness
Note(s)/Warning(s): Dark Fic, Threatening Notes, Manipulation. This is the last blurb request prompt! Thank you everyone who sent one in, I had so much fun!
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A knock on the door sounds out and Chuck nearly lunges off the couch, rushing to the door and having to fight to get rid of his large grin.
He knew exactly who it was, Walter not barking was a clear giveaway.
Opening the door, he forces himself to look concerned, eyebrows furrowing, head tilting to side slightly.
Her name easily leaving his lips as he ushers her inside.
"What's wrong?" He asks, wrapping an arm her shoulder and she instantly burrows into his side, a sob leaving her.
He watches as she shakily reaches into the pocket of her jacket, Orange's jacket, and pulls out notes, nine of them.
"I got another one of these." Her voice is a whisper as she hands them to.
"What are they?" He asks, taking them before having her sit down, joining her when her fingers reach out for him.
She shakes her head, unable to speak and then she's jumping as the sound of the door opens and closes.
Chuck looks over, before quickly reassuring her. "It's alright. It's just Orange getting home from work."
Orange pauses in the barely there entryway, "everything okay?"
Chuck looks at her, but she's looking at her hands, still shaking and Chuck looks back at Orange, quickly grinning at him, before frowning again, with a small shake of his head.
"She just got here. Handed me these." He holds up his hand, holding the notes. "Said she got another one."
"Oh," Orange also is now looking at her concerned. "Is it eviction notices? What is it?"
Chuck gives a shrug and Orange joins them on the couch, sandwiching her between them and they share a grin when her shaking stops at the feeling of both of them surrounding her.
The notes, all nine of them, are more than familiar, Orange and him had written them after all, but it does make anger well up inside of him at the thought of someone actually threatening her. Of someone scaring her.
"Wow." Orange murmurs when they get to the last one, the most recent one, the one Orange had snuck into her mailbox before leaving for work.
"Who does this guy think he is?" Chuck scowls.
"I don't know." She finally speaks. "I started getting them five weeks ago. I thought it was a joke at first, some sort of prank but then the fourth one," her breath hitches. "It mentioned," she sobs, unable to say it. "They've just gotten worse and I don't know what to do." Her shoulders are shaking and she's trying to brush away her tears. "You both said if I needed anything to ask and I need help. I'm scared."
"Of course we'll help." Orange says, hugging her, pressing her face to his chest so he and Chuck can exchange grins.
"We'll scare him off." Chuck reassures, patting her back.
"How?" She sniffles.
Orange pauses, "well," he stops, voice flattering. "No that's stupid."
Chuck's eyebrow raises at how he's going off script.
She pulls away from Orange, wiping at her eyes. "What is it?"
He looks bashful, a small blush coming to his cheeks, and it makes Chuck want to coo, pinch his cheek before planting a kiss on him that will turn him red all over.
"I was just thinking that if you were dating someone, or," he pauses, eyes flickering to Chuck and then back to her. "Or someone's, he might back off. It doesn't seem like they want to hurt you. And he might back off, seeing two guys dating you, protecting you, two guys he even mentioned."
Her eyes are wide, mouth open, as her own eyes flicker back and forth between them.
"It'd be fake of course." Orange rushes to say before she can say anything, and only Chuck can hear the silent for now. They both catch the flicker of disappointment on her face at that. "We just want to keep you safe."
Her face softens at Orange's last words. But her face quickly turns to look at Chuck, "and you'd be okay with that?"
"Of course. I'd, we'd," Chuck corrects. "Do anything for you and saying I've got a hot boyfriend and girlfriend for a while sounds more like a win to me than anything."
"Okay." She murmurs after a moment. "We can, we can fake date."
It's hard to hide their excitement, but they manage as they both hug her, their eyes locking, excitement clear in them.
And to think, Orange had been worried the notes wouldn't work to get her in their arms and away from everyone else.
I’d love to see Lestappen x reader and fake dating?
Title: Back Off - Charles Leclerc/Reader/Max Verstappen
Words: 373
Blurb Request Prompt(s): Fake Dating
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"He's still looking." She murmurs, shoulders practically touching her ears as she tries to make herself as small as possible.
The two drivers in front of her both scowl and then Charles is gently grabbing her elbow moving her. Max switching positions with her, and Max instantly glares at the man who hadn't stopped looking at her, approaching her, being near her.
"You've said no, practically a dozen times now. Stupid," Charles starts to mutter under his breath, words, curses, she can't catch, but Max recognizes one if the way his lips twitch upwards is anything to go by.
"I don't know what to do." She groans, burying her face in her hands.
She feels one of them, most likely Charles, gently pat her arm.
"You could date someone." Max says and her hands fall away from her face, an odd strangled sound leaving her throat. He's no longer glaring behind her, instead looking at her, lips tugged upwards, but his eyes are serious. "He fucked off when I didn't stop glaring. He'd back off if you are with someone."
"Right." She scoffs, rolling her eyes, arms going across her chest. "Because I've got a boyfriend."
"You could always pretend to date someone."
Her eyebrows raise, looking at Charles, unable to believe that he's agreeing with Max about this. "I'm not doing a my boyfriend goes to a different school bit. I doubt he'd believe that."
Max and Charles share a look. "There's always the fake route."
"And your offering?" She looks at Max, surprised.
"We both are." He corrects and she looks over to see Charles nodding in agreement.
"He has been very persistent. Two might be better."
Her stomach twists a bit at Charles’ offer, at the offering of being with them both, but it'd be pretend, fake. So close to what she wants but incredibly far away.
"I don't know." She says, lips pressing together.
Another look is shared between the two.
Max speaks again, "We don't want you to get hurt. Just think about it, yeah?"
She can't protest thinking about it because Charles is gently tugging at her elbow and talking about Leo and she's unable to not get distracted by his new story of the adorable dog.
