#dad!Max

[httpsleclerc]

somewhere in the netherlands

summary: Max realises his retirement from F1 is all worth it.

pairing: dad!max verstappen x mom!reader

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of weight gain and insecurity

word count: 1.5k

a/n: DAD!MAX DAD!MAX WE ALL CHANT IN UNISON

my masterlist <3

Max quietly groaned as he woke up, the ache in his bones from a hard season of racing had taken its toll on him, the ache settled deep in his bones, but he was hoping that this would be it. He had announced his retirement following his 4th championship, citing that he wanted to retire on a high and be able to spend time with you and your children.

Children.

Your son, Ruben, had recently turned 3, and in a few short months, your family would be growing in size with the addition of your little girl. He turned on his side to face you, he found that the space between you in the morning grew bit by bit every morning as your little girl grew. He smiled, placing his hand on your swollen middle, feeling the kicks of your daughter through your RedBull Racing shirt - It was one of Max's champion t-shirts, but these days, you found Max's t-shirts were all that could fit over your ever growing stomach.

"Max, she was sleeping," You sleepily groaned, rubbing a hand over your stomach to try and soothe the child kicking at your ribs. Max chuckled, leaning over to place a kiss on your lips.

"Sorry, schatje, just wanted to make sure that she knows I'm here now," He said quietly, as if his hushed tone would somehow send your daughter back to sleep. You giggled, trying your hardest to shuffle closer to your husband.

"I think that you being here is what's causing her to kick, my love," You joked, placing your hand on Max's cheek, rubbing it with your thumb. These mornings made Max realise how lucky he was, he knew that he had turned it around from how his father treated him - He made it clear to you that if Ruben didn't want to drive go-karts, then that would be perfectly fine. Your son had taken an interest in football, and even though Max fell short of the skills in that, he always made an attempt to play along with Ruben, even if he always let him win. "We're so lucky to have you Max. Me, Ruben, and baby girl, we're so lucky to have you." You told him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I think I'm the lucky one, I don't know what I did so right to get so lucky to have such a loving family and wife," He placed a kiss on your lips, taking your hand in his and rubbing over the cold material of your wedding band. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you and the kids, our own little babies." You smiled as you nodded - You hadn't had much of a say over Max retiring, but you made sure that he knew that either way, you would support him with all that you had.

Secretly, you were relieved when he told you that he was retiring. You never told him about the endless pit of anxiety that opened up in your stomach at every race weekend, the constant fear that something bad would happen to him, and that you would be left to raise your children on your own without the love of your life. 

The thought didn't bare thinking about.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the gentle creaking of yours and Max's bedroom door opening, followed by the soft padding of your son's feet coming into the room. Clad in his blue pyjamas, his blonde hair a mess on his head, and carrying his favourite comforter.

"Mama," He made your way over to your side of yours and Max's bed, but your heart broke every time that he wanted you to lift him up - You really wanted to try, but you couldn't risk hurting you or baby girl.

"Mama can't lift you, Rubear, come over and Daddy'll lift you up and you can sit between us," Max told the small boy, offering him a compromise on you lifting him. Ruben knew that his baby sister was growing in your tummy, but that was as much as he knew. He padded over to the other side of your shared bed, holding his arms up to his father to be picked up, to which he obliged and picked his small son up. "There's my boy, did you sleep good?" Ruben nodded and lay down against his father's chest, holding Max's t-shirt in his small hands and he clung to his father.

As the winter rain battered off the window, you, Max and your son settled down for a cosy morning in bed, you rubbing small circled on Ruben's back as he settled on top of Max.

This made Max retiring worth it. Spending time with you and Ruben as a small family of three before you gave birth to your daughter was worth it, being able to see your kids grow up was worth it, to even see you have another child - in Max's mind, everything was worth it. The daily, mundane activities would be worth it, taking Ruben to school, grocery shopping, cooking - Those things made his retirement worth it.

"Go Ruben!" Max cheered, trying not to get too excited that your daughter, Saskia, would lose her grip on his shoulders. Ruben had gotten bored of football and taken an interest in his father's hobby, and it was clear that being a champion ran in the Verstappen bloodline. "Y/N look, he's in the lead!" He cheered excitedly. You smiled at Max's excitement, he made sure that when Ruben was racing, his yelling was a sign of constant encouragement, telling his son how well he was doing - He was breaking the cycle, as the harsh words his father screamed at him at 8 years old were still prominent in his mind.

"I see, my love, I'm just scared if I get too excited, I'll go into labour," You giggled, your concern genuine at this point. You were 8 months pregnant with yours and Max's last baby, you'd told him that if he got you pregnant again, then you would give him the snip yourself. "Saskia, baby, are you not cold, do you want your hat?" You shouted up to your daughter.

"No mama, I'm okay!" She shouted back to you, a smile which mirrored your husband's present on her face as she watched her older brother speed around the track. With Max's hands occupied holding your daughter's ankles, you put your arm around his waist, to which you smiled - Max had never been known to have a little waist, but he had gained what you had affectionally called 'a dad bod'. He'd gotten insecure about it after a while, which you understood - He'd gone from being at his peak physical health, to carrying a few extra pounds.

You'd told him none of that mattered to you, that no matter how he looked, fat or thin, that you would always love him - You told him that it was a sign that he loved his children, a sign that he could indulge in their favourite treats with his kids. He had told you the exact same thing a couple of months prior, when you realised that after 3 kids, your body no longer looked the same - But that made it more special to Max, that your body bore the marks of what it was possible of, of creating and carrying life.

"Go Ruben!" You, Max and Saskia cheered at the same time, watching as your oldest son crossed the finish line in first place. He immediately gout out of his kart, instantly searching for you and Max, but spotting his little sister on his shoulders first. Max brought Saskia down and off of his shoulders, so he could meet his son's embrace as he came running to him.

"Dad! Did you see me dad?! I won! Mama did you see me too?!" He yelled excitedly, having tossed his helmet to the side of Max, who crouched down to embrace your son in a tight embrace.

"Of course we saw you! You did so good out there, we're all so so proud of you Ruben!" He cheered, lifting his son into the air as you held onto your daughter's hand. "Our winning boy, right girls?" You and Saskia nodded, your eyes filling with tears as you saw your daughter immediately run to hug her big brother.

Damn pregnancy hormones.

"Mama, can I please take Saskia up with me to get my trophy?" Ruben asked you, pulling his best puppy eyes. You looked to Max, who nodded in response, agreeing with you.

"Of course you can, honey, just be careful in case you need to help her up if the podium is too high, okay?" Ruben nodded as he ran away with his little sister in tow, and you leaned against Max as he stood beside you, his arm around you. "He's such a good big brother." You said, looking up at your husband, who watched his children with nothing but pride in his eyes.

"They're both perfect, thank you so much for bringing them into the world, Schatje."

[missaster]

Btw, THIS was the moment I knew how much I've fucked up, describing the Abu Dhabi cooldown-room.

I would say it was for the sake of the scene (which it was, it works better with the claustrophobic and uncomfortable, now thinking, maybe dutch one???) but it was just a mistake, mainly.

The goblins are not very happy about it.

Also.

NEW CHAPTER COMING VERY SOON!

Chapter 24 - Jacuzzis and answers

Summary:

Charles and Arthur relax in the wellness center after a game of padel.

charles giggling at Max's divebomb "from the outside baby" they BOTH are track terrors having fun from it. also who are you calling baby 🙄

[deyageka]

.

.

No srsly I can’t believe they’ve actually done this:

(+)

[ynbabe]

Charles: Is five a lot of followers?

Max: Depends on the context.

Max: On Instagram? No, not a lot of followers.

Max: In a dark alley? Yes, a lot of followers.

Charles and Max turning around to find the rookies sneaking up behind them:

[ari-ana-bel-la]

could you write a dad!Oscar who we know is private but the other drivers dont know he has a kid till he invites them over his house and when lily or oscar open the door yn is there in her walker lookig up at them exacly like Oscar (bonus if they have a pet the other drivers are scared of but yn is fascinated with it)

The secret daughter

The post-race dinner invite had taken everyone by surprise.

Oscar wasn’t exactly known for being social. Quiet? Definitely. Polite? Always. But throwing casual dinner parties? That was new. So when he casually mentioned in the paddock after the Australian Grand Prix, Hey, if you're around, come over to mine for dinner tonight, the rest of the drivers had stared at him like he’d just grown a second head.

"Are you serious?" Lando asked, raising a brow.

Oscar had just nodded, offering that small, elusive smile of his. "Yeah. Should be fun."

Max had squinted at him. "You? Hosting dinner? Are we sure this isn’t some elaborate prank?"

Oscar just shrugged. "Come or don’t. Up to you."

Of course, they were going to come. They couldn’t resist the mystery.

---

It was nearly sunset when the group pulled up to a modest but beautiful house nestled into the outskirts of the city. Australia had always had its charm—open skies, endless greenery, and that unmistakable warmth in the air that hinted at home. Daniel, retired now and visiting the paddock just for old time’s sake, had tagged along with the group, grinning like a kid.

"You know, I’m proud of the kid," he said as they stepped out of the car. "Hosting a dinner, inviting people over. He’s evolving."

George adjusted his collar and glanced at the front door. "Are we sure we have the right house?"

"Looks about right," Charles said, holding a bottle of wine. "He texted the address."

Max leaned on the car. "Well, someone go knock then."

"You knock," Lando shot back.

"You’re closer."

With a dramatic sigh, Lando marched up to the door and knocked twice. They waited. Silence. Then a faint rustling.

The door swung open.

A little girl, no older than three, stood in the doorway. Brown curls framed her cherubic face, and her wide eyes blinked up at them in a serious sort of way—exactly like Oscar’s. Her expression was so deadpan that for a moment, no one said a word.

"Uh... hi?" George offered awkwardly.

The girl stared at them.

"She looks just like him," Charles whispered.

"She can’t be..." Lando murmured.

"You guys coming in or what?" she said, voice tiny but confident.

Before anyone could respond, she turned and darted back into the house. "DADDY! The tall people are here!"

Five grown men stood frozen on the doorstep, processing.

"Did she just call him Daddy?" Max blinked.

"She did, right?" Lando asked, eyes wide.

Daniel let out a loud bark of laughter. "Holy shit. Oscar has a kid."

Inside, Oscar appeared, as calm as ever, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. "Hey. You guys found the place. Come in."

"You have a child," George said bluntly.

Oscar blinked. "Yeah?"

"You never said anything," Lando said, eyes still trailing after the small child, who had now settled on the couch with a juice box.

Oscar tilted his head, bemused. "You never asked."

"Seriously?! That’s your excuse?" Max asked, walking in, still stunned.

Oscar shrugged. "I don’t go around asking if you guys have secret families."

"It’s not a secret if she opens the door for us," Charles said.

Daniel was grinning ear to ear. "Mate. You legend. I didn’t know you had it in you."

"Thanks, I think," Oscar said dryly.

Lando had crouched slightly, watching the little girl with fascination. She glanced up at him, unblinking.

"Hi," Lando said.

"Hi," she replied.

"I’m Lando. What’s your name?"

"Yn."

"That’s a pretty name."

She took a long sip of her juice box. "Wanna see my pet?"

Lando blinked. "Uh... sure."

Oscar looked up from where he was arranging some bowls. "You don’t have to say yes, by the way."

Lando, determined, shook his head. "No, it’s okay. I like pets. Is it a bunny? A hamster?"

Yn grinned, then skipped over to the corner where a small terrarium sat.

"Larry!" she sang. "Come say hi!"

The group watched in silent horror as she reached into the glass box and pulled out a tiny, coiled snake.

Lando backed up so fast he nearly tripped over Max. "WHAT THE HELL?!"

Yn cradled the snake lovingly. "This is Larry. He’s my best friend."

Max looked at Oscar like he’d grown another head. "You let your toddler have a snake?!"

Oscar glanced over. "He’s non-venomous. Very chill. Yn loves him."

Charles had pressed himself against the nearest wall. George was hovering behind the couch like it could protect him. Daniel, meanwhile, looked delighted.

"She’s a true Aussie," Daniel said proudly. "Respect the reptile."

Yn patted Larry's head and brought him closer to Lando. "You can pet him if you want."

"I think I’m good," Lando squeaked.

Oscar crossed his arms, one eyebrow raised. "Scared of a baby snake, huh?"

"He looked at me with malice in his eyes."

"Larry doesn’t even have eyelids," Oscar deadpanned.

Daniel clapped Oscar on the shoulder. "Fatherhood suits you. You’re terrifying. I love it."

The evening carried on with more laughter than anyone expected. Yn eventually let Larry rest back in his enclosure, and Oscar set up a makeshift kids' table where she could eat her nuggets and carrots. The rest of the group sat around the main table, eyes occasionally drifting back to the little girl who had rocked their worlds in under five minutes.

"So, uh... how old is she?" George asked cautiously, sipping his drink.

"Three and a half," Oscar said.

"And... you and Lily?"

Oscar nodded. "Yeah. We kept it quiet. Wanted some normalcy."

"She’s adorable," Charles said. "I mean. Scary, with the snake. But adorable."

"She is," Oscar said, and for the first time that evening, his voice softened. Everyone noticed.

Yn ran back into the room at one point, straight to Daniel, crawling into his lap like it was the most natural thing.

"Uncle Dan," she said sweetly.

"Hey, sunshine," Daniel replied, instantly melting.

Lando looked betrayed. "Uncle Dan?"

Daniel smirked over Yn's curls. "Some of us got in early."

"I want to be her favorite," Lando muttered.

"Should’ve petted the snake, mate," Max said with a grin.

Oscar leaned back, watching the group. For the first time in a while, he looked completely at ease. Maybe it had always been like this behind the scenes—the quiet life, the family, the snake.

But now that the secret was out, no one was going anywhere. They were hooked.

"So," George said later, holding a brownie, "next time we hang out at yours, should we bring mice? Or are snakes allergic to snacks?"

Oscar rolled his eyes. "You guys are ridiculous."

Yn peeked around the corner. "Uncle Lando? Larry misses you."

Lando visibly paled. The room erupted in laughter.

Oscar just smirked.

"Told you. She’s a real Aussie."

And that, they all agreed, was terrifyingly accurate.

Extra

The drivers reaction to meeting Oscars daughter:

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Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-♡○♡

[harrysfolklore]

papa bear - mv1

summary: max becomes a papa bear when it comes to his favorite two girls (basically just dad-to-be max fluff)

folkie radio: oh boy do i love dad max !!!! and it's becoming canon soon i can't believe it. anywayyy i hope you like thisss

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux and 109,625 others

yourinstagram that's a wrap for the first half of the season! now I get this one to myself for 3 weeks ❤️

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username1 AWEEE

username2 you guys are literally the cutest couple ever

username3 enjoy the break guys!! max deserves it after dominating the whole season frfr

username4 protect these two at all costs

redbullracing 🧡💙

sophiekumpen My babies! ❤️ Enjoy the break, see you both for dinner tomorrow xx

└ yourinstagram we love you !

landonorris bet he's already in the sim

└ yourinstagram he’s cuddling the cats right now but you can bet he’s getting on that stream soon

└ username1 CRYING MAX CUDDLING WITH THE CATS

carmenmmundt cuties! girls day soon? 💕

└ iamrebeccad Please !!

└ lilymhe count me in

└ alexandrasaintmleux 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️

└ yourinstagram ABSOLUTELY

└ username2 ughh i just want to be one of them

username5 ALREADY MISSING THEM

username6 if max doesn’t put a ring on it soon istg

username7 THE WAY YOU CAN SEE HIS SMILE HERE

username8 i hope they have a nice breeaaaak

maxverstappen1 Ready for no distractions, just us ❤️

└ username1 MAX THE SIMP BOYFRIEND THAT YOU ARE

liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 1,056,826 others

maxverstappen1 Thank you Spa, wishing you all a lovely summer break ✌️

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username1 THE GOATTTT

username2 he looks so good omfg

yourinstagram proud of you always ❤️ now hand over that phone 😌

└ username1 max listen to your future wife

└ maxverstappen1 Your wish is my command

└ username2 YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND

redbullracing Enjoy the break champ

danielricciardo Send it mate! Catch you in Zandvoort 🤙

username3 SUPER MAXXX

username4 i hope we get some content during the summer break

username5 max boyfriend era activated

username6 he’s going to disappear but at least he’ll be spending time with our queen yn

username7 why is he glowing so much is he pregnant or something

username8 his babies will have the prettiest eyes ever

liked by username1, username2 and 38,625 others

f1updates Our favorite couple enjoying their summer break! Max and YN spotted enjoying some downtime after an incredible first half of the season.

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username1 PARENTS

username2 they look so happy and relaxed

username3 anyone else notice yn looks different? 👀

username4 is it just me or has yn gained a little weight? she's usually so tiny

└ username1 let's not comment on people's bodies... she looks gorgeous as always

└ username2 ffs who cares if she did. be normal

username5 she has been glowing lately and max is so protective of her here

username6 the way he's holding her so close in the first pic 🥺

username7 something's different about yn...

└ username8 right? she definitely gained some weight

└ username1 itsg im reporting every single comments who keeps deserting her body you people are insensitive

username9 why are people commenting about her weight? she looks beautiful let them live

username10 these two are gonna give us baby ver one day and break the internet

username11 PROTECT YN FROM THESE WEIRDOS AT ALL COSTS

username12 max seems even more protective than usual lately... interesting 👀

username13 maybe she’s just bloated guys 😭

└ username2 kindly fuck off

username14 she's literally giving off pregnancy glow but okay

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liked by username1, username2 and 15,736 others

f1updates Our championship leader spotted doing a late night grocery run? 👀 Max Verstappen seen buying what appears to be... stroopwafels, pickles, and various snacks at nearly midnight!

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username1 HES SO WEIRD

username2 is he high ?

username3 not the stroopwafels and pickles combo 😭

username4 THE PREGNANCY CRAVINGS ARE REALLL

username5 bros really out here doing midnight snack runs, yn got him WHIPPED

username6 max "i hate shopping" verstappen doing midnight store runs? she must be pregnant fr fr

username7 anyone who's been pregnant knows exactly what those snacks mean

username8 pickles AND stroopwafels? yeah that's definitely not for him 😌

username9 the way this man will do anything for yn

username10 everyone saying this is for his girlfriend but this mean could have the weirdest munchies combo

username11 the way he's trying to hide the bags I can't 💀

username12 leave them alone guys... but also BABY VER COMING???

username13 he looks so done with people taking pics 😭

liked by iamrebeccad, maxverstappen1 and 267,836 others

yourinstagram best break with you @maxverstappen1 ❤️ teady for the second half of the season

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username1 SO DAMN CUTEEEE

username2 there are my parents

carmenmmundt You guys are glowing! 💕

└ yourinstagram we love youuuu

username3 why is she wearing such loose clothes lately?

└ username1 maybe mind your own business?

landonorris max actually took time off the sim? unbelievable 😂

└ yourinstagram believe it or not he did

username4 THE THIRD PIC HAS ME DYING

usernsme5 he baggy clothes aren't hiding what we think they're hiding 👀

sophieklumen My beautiful loves! ❤️

└ yourinstagram love you so much 💓

username6 is no one gonna talk about how max is looking at her stomach in the last picture?

username7 yn's literally glowing stop lying to us 😭

username8 yn definitely looks… different

username9 why are people so obsessed with her clothes? let them live

username10 that ocean pic needs to be framed

maxverstappen1 Thanks for the best summer break ❤️ I love you

└ yourinstagram i love you the most 🥹

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 847,936 others

maxverstappen1 Amazing to race in front of the Orange Army again. Missing someone special today but she was supporting from home ❤️ Thank you all for the incredible energy! 🇳🇱

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username1 DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN

username2 the goat

yourinstagram SO proud of you! sorry i couldn't be there but i had the best view from the couch with our cats 🧡 see you soon champion

└ maxverstappen1 Home soon ❤️

username3 first time yn's missed a race in ages 👀

username4 The Dutch Princess missing the Dutch GP? Something's definitely up

username5 she's never missed Zandvoort before...

sophieklumen Killed it schatje! YN we missed you today! Feel better soon ❤️

└ username1 she might just have the flu and yall are claiming she’s pregnant lol

landonorris Proper job mate! Tell yn she owes me a gaming session

username6 "supporting from home" yeah with morning sickness probably 😌

username7 nobody celebrating in parc fermé with max felt so weird

redbullracing That’s our champion 💙

username8 she's never missed a home race... this basically confirms it

username9 the way he kept looking for her after getting out of the car 🥺

username10 extremely weird that you assume that she’s pregnant just because she’s not in the paddock and her body looks different

username11 some of these comments are delusional

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liked by maxverstappen1, iamrebeccad and 278,395 others

yourinstagram words can't describe how proud i am! four-time world champion, my incredible max ! 🦁 gutted i couldn't be there but celebrating from home with happy tears! the greatest driver, even better person 🤍 i love you @/maxverstappen1

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username1 MAXIE IS THE WORLD CHAMPION

username2 i can’t believe this is the first time she misses a championship

maxverstappen1 Wish you were here ❤️ Coming home to you soon! I love you

username3 what kind of girlfriend misses her boyfriend's championship win? pathetic

└ username1 shut up, she's clearly not well

username4 so selfish to not even show up for the biggest moment

username5 some of these comments are disgusting. leave her alone!

username6 she's literally been at every race for years, clearly something serious is keeping her home

victoriaverstappen CHAMP 💙

username7 the way he kept saying "wish she was here" in every interview 🥺

username8 not even showing up for THIS? something's definitely up...

username9 some of these comments are vile. let her take care of herself

username10 the haters are just mad their fav could never

liked by username1, username2 and 79,736 others

f1_gossip_daily EXCLUSIVE: The Real Reason Behind YN's Absence 🚨

After months of speculation, here's your confirmation! Sources close to the couple confirm YN is expecting! This explains her absence from recent races including Max's championship win. These pictures were taken outside of a clinic 👀

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username1 WHAT THE FUCK

username2 MAX IS GOING TO BE A DAD ???

username3 DELETE THIS. they clearly weren't ready to share. this is disgusting.

username4 reporting this post this is a massive invasion of privacy

username5 following and photographing someone at their DOCTOR'S office?? you've crossed a line

username6 this is absolutely vile they deserved to announce this their own way

username7 well this explains a lot

username8 this is why we can't have nice things. delete this immediately

username9 taking photos of someone at medical appointments is a new low

username10 they deserved to share their happiness on their own terms this is heartbreaking

username11 MASS REPORT THIS POST

username12 this isn't gossip, this is harassment.

username13 no wonder max is always so protective. this is awful

username14 this is literally illegal in most countries. hope they sue

username15 their first baby announcement stolen from them. I feel sick

maxverstappen1 Hope the clicks were worth it. My lawyers will be in touch. Next time respect people's privacy.

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liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 504,826 others

yourinstagram Privacy was the one thing I wanted during this special time. The choice to share this journey was taken from us in the most invasive way possible. For months we've been trying to protect this precious secret, wanting to experience these moments just between us and our loved ones.

Being forced to hide because of long-lens cameras at doctor appointments, avoiding races I desperately wanted to attend, missing Max's championship celebration - all to try keeping this private as long as possible. Not because we weren't excited, but because everyone deserves to share their joy in their own way, in their own time.

To those who violated our privacy - you didn't just take photos, you took away moments we can never get back. To those who defended us and reported those images - thank you. Your respect means everything.

But since this is now public... Yes, Baby Verstappen is joining the grid in 2025 💕 Not the way we planned to share this, but our joy can't be diminished. Max, watching you become a father already is the most beautiful thing. I love you ❤️

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username1 OH MY FUCKING GOD

username2 i hate everyone who ruined this for them

carmenmmundt You handled this with such grace. Can't wait to meet baby V!

username3 we knew something was up when you kept missing races

username4 THE WAY HE'S BEEN PROTECTING HER ALL THIS TIME 😭

username5 so happy it's finally out but so angry at how it happened

sophieklumen The best news! Already the most loved baby ❤️

danielricciardo uncle danny is ready for babysitting duties!

username6 anyone else crying at "watching you become a father already"

username7 the grace and class in this post after what happened... we stan the right person

username8 baby ver about to have the most protective dad in F1 history

lando does this mean I can finally talk about hiding snacks in the garage for yn? 😂

username9 MOST LOVED BABY EVER ALREADY

username10 i hope people who harassed her rot in jail tbh

username11 can we talk about how beautiful this pic is tho

username12 MAX IS A DAD OMFG

carlossainz55 Such beautiful news! Felicidades! ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux the most beautiful mama already

victoriaverstappen Finally we can celebrate properly! Love you both so much!

maxverstappen1 So proud of you both. I love you with everything I am and more

liked by yourinstagram, lando and 2,048,648 others

maxverstappen1 I rarely address personal matters, but today I have to. What happened yesterday crossed every line. Following my girlfriend to medical appointments, hiding in bushes to take photos - this isn't journalism, it's harassment. The people involved will be dealt with legally.

YN has been my strength through everything. Watching her try to hide her happiness these past months because of invasive cameras has been infuriating. She missed races she wanted to attend, stayed away from celebrations, all to protect our privacy. She even missed our championship moment - something that crushed us both - because we were trying to keep this joy to ourselves for a little longer.

To everyone who mass reported those photos and defended our privacy - thank you.

To the "journalists" who did this - I hope those clicks were worth it. Actions have consequences.

But yes, we're having a baby. YN is the strongest person I know, already the most incredible mother. Nobody can take away our happiness about this, even if they tried to take away our moment.

And to any paparazzi reading this - stay away from my family. This is your only warning.

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username1 PAPA BEAR MAX ACTIVATED AND WE'RE HERE FOR IT

username2 IM SOBBING

yourinstagram i love you ❤️ best daddy already

victoriaverstappen My protective big brother 🥺 Love you both!

charles_leclerc Well said Max. We stand with you both.

username3 this man won a championship and is still more focused on protecting his family

lando already ordering mini racing suits

username4 that last line wasn't a warning, it was a THREAT

username5 the way he goes from soft boyfriend to protective beast in one post 😭

username6 yn calling him best daddy already i can't handle this

username7 "Stay away from my family. This is your only warning." CHILLS.

username8 the whole grid in the comments ready to throw hands for them

username9 protective max is scary max

username10 love how he went from soft "yn is my strength" to "this is your only warning"

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liked by maxverstappen1, lando and 398,267 others

yourinstagram since it's out there anyway... let me expose papa bear a bit 😂❤️

catching him putting headphones on my belly to "start early with engine sounds." coming home to find him practicing assembly with the crib (yes, 5 months early). finding children's books about racing in 4 different languages because "the baby needs options."

my favorite is him speaking in dutch to my belly because "the baby needs to understand the language.”

also special mention to his 3 AM grocery runs because "we" were craving stroopwafels, and him threatening to fire his trainer for not changing his routine because "what if I need to carry both of them?"

the "most aggressive driver on the grid" everyone 🥺

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username1 IM SOBBING

username2 DADDY MAX YOU ARE SO WHOLESOME

maxverstappen1 The baby DOES need to understand dutch 😤❤️

username3 MAX IS SUCH A PAPA BEAR I CANT

lando NOW I can talk about finding baby books in his driver room

victoriaverstappen My brother the softie 🥺

sophieklumen The cutest papa bear ❤️

username4 SOFT MAX UNLOCKED

username5 not him being the most prepared dad ever

username6 the way he's been secretly nesting this whole time and we had NO IDEA

username7 "what if I need to carry both of them" STOP HE'S SO 🥺

username8 not him threatening his trainer I'M CRYING

username9 imagine being the most feared driver on track but also doing 3am stroopwafel runs

username10 the fact that he's been doing this for months while we all thought he was just focused on racing 🥺

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liked by maxverstappen1, iamrebeccad and 512,038 others

yourinstagram since we didn't get to share our first baby news the way we wanted to, we're keeping this moment ours ❤️ baby girl verstappen coming to shake up the grid ! already has her papa wrapped around her tiny finger (and the entire paddock as her protective uncles 😂)

max hasn't stopped talking about "daddy-daughter karting lessons" since we found out (though i caught him googling "how to say no to puppy eyes" so at least he knows what he's in for 😅)

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username1 OMFG

username2 MAX IS A GIRL DAD

maxverstappen1 She's getting her first kart before she can walk 😤❤️

sebastianvettel Another racing princess! Congratulations!

username3 FIRST FEMALE WORLD CHAMPION INCOMING

victoriaverstappen My first niece 😭❤️ Can't wait to spoil her!

lilymhe the cutest little princess already !

username4 GIRL DAD MAX ERA INCOMING 😭

username5 the way the whole grid is ready to be protective uncles

username6 first he protects yn, now he's gonna protect their princess

username7 GIRL DAD MAX IS GOING TO BE EVERYTHING 😭

username8 the most protected baby girl in motorsport history incoming

alexandrasaintmleux CONGRATS 💓

username9 max "I'll fight anyone on track" verstappen about to be wrapped around a tiny finger

username10 sebastian coming out of retirement to comment 🥺

username11 Danny Ric and Lando fighting for favorite uncle position already

username12 this baby girl about to have the most iconic childhood ever

username13 max trying to prepare for puppy eyes while simultaneously planning her racing career is killing me

username14 first she'll have max wrapped around her finger, then the whole grid

liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 1,388,936 others

maxverstappen1 Never knew I could love someone I haven't met yet this much. Already know she's going to be faster than her old man one day

(YN says I have to wait until she can walk before getting her first kart, but what she doesn't know is that GP and the engineering team are already working on the safest baby kart ever made 🤫)

Can't wait to be your dad, little princess ❤️

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username1 IM SOBBING

username2 GIRL DAD MAX IS REAL

yourinstagram we love you so much, papa bear

sebastianvettel Welcome to the girl dad club. Your wallet and heart don't stand a chance 😂

redbullracing Our champion's toughest challenge yet: resisting puppy eyes 😅

lando WE LOVE YOU PRINCESS VERSTAPPEN

username3 MAX "I'LL FIGHT EVERYONE" VERSTAPPEN TURNING INTO THE SOFTEST GIRL DAD

username4 engineering team making the safest baby kart ever is so wholesome 🥺

username5 man's whole tough image about to be destroyed by a tiny girl

username6 the way every uncle is already fighting for favorite position

username7 "Never knew I could love someone I haven't met yet" WHO IS CUTTING ONIONS

username8 sebastian coming to warn him about girl dad life 🥺

username9 everyone ready to watch tough Max melt for his baby girl

username10 not the entire paddock becoming protective uncles immediately

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liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 439,037 others

yourinstagram These last few months have been everything ❤️ Can't believe we're so close to meeting our little racer.

The entire paddock has turned into protective uncles, Max reads engineering books to her every night (she kicks like crazy when she hears his voice), and GP's already got her first little team radio headset ready.

To our little girl: your papa's already planning your racing career (though we'll talk about that), the whole grid is waiting to spoil you, and we can't wait to meet you

Few more laps until we see you princess 🏁❤️

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username1 NOT MAX READING ENGINEERING BOOKS TO THE BUMP 😭

iamrebeccad best mama already !

username2 "few more laps" THE F1 REFERENCES ARE KILLING ME

lilymhe look at you 🥺🥺🥺

username3 GP ALREADY HAVING A TINY RADIO HEADSET PREPARED HELP

username4 MAX IS REALLY ABOUT TO BECOME A DAD

lando baby verstappen is so loved already. and of course i'm her favorite uncle

username5 THE DRIVERS AS UNCLES I CANT DO THIS

username6 the way she kicks when she hears Max's voice STOP 😭

victoriaverstappen I can't wait to hold my little niece 💕

username7 the whole grid waiting to spoil her is the cutest thing ever

username8 max being a GIRL DAD is the best thing ever

danielricciardo Love you mates ! you'll be the best parents ever

username9 IM SOBBING THE BABY IS COMING SOON

username10 this is the best max era

maxverstappen1 Thank you for making all of my dreams come true, I love you both so much ❤️

liked by yourinstagram, carlossainz55 and 1,904,658 others

maxverstappen1 To the strongest woman I know - watching you carry our daughter these past months has made me fall in love with you all over again. You're already the most incredible mother.

Everyone sees the racing, the wins, the championships. But this, right here? You and our little girl? This is everything.

I promise you both - I'll always protect you, always take care of you. No trophy could ever compare to what you're giving me

Thank you for making me the luckiest man in the world, twice over. First by choosing me, and now by making me a father.

Few more weeks until we meet our princess. I love you both more than anything ❤️

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username1 "NO TROPHY COULD EVER COMPARE" I'M SOBBING

username2 THIS MAN WENT FROM COLD RACER TO SOFTESTBOI SO FAST

username3 THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CAPTION EVER

sophieklumen So proud of you both. Can't wait to meet my granddaughter ❤️

victoriaverstappen Who is this sweet man and what did he do with my brother? 😭

username4 THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING HE'S EVER POSTED OMG

username5 THE WAY HE JUST EXPOSED HIS WHOLE HEART LIKE THIS

username6 he really said "championships who? my girls are everything"

lando still showing everyone baby scan pictures in drivers' briefing

charles_leclerc Time flies. Congrats future dad

username7 "first by choosing me" STOP THIS IS TOO CUTE

username8 this is the man who terrorizes the grid every weekend?

lewishamilton This is what it's all about mate ❤️ Beautiful words

username9 BABY VERSTAPPEN YOU ARE SO LOVED

username10 i can't believe max verstappen typed this

yourinstagram you really are a papa bear. and we love you so much

[ijustwannabecool]

Vogue Beauty Secrets

Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader

Summary... Vogue asks Y/N to film her skincare and makeup routine.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this little blurb. Let me know what you guys wanna see next. Request are open.

⋆｡˚☁︎˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

The video opens with the click of a camera turning on, followed by a small laugh.

“Hi, Vogue,” Y/N greets warmly, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. Her skin is fresh, makeup-free, her voice still a bit husky from sleep. “I’m Y/N Verstappen and I’ve been asked to share my daily beauty routine… which honestly feels like a joke considering I’ve been up since 5 a.m. because my daughter thinks that’s an acceptable wake-up time.”

She shrugs playfully, leaning on the white marble bathroom counter. Behind her, viewers get a glimpse of their Amsterdam apartment, clean lines, cozy lighting, a plant in every corner.

“So let’s get into it,” she smiles. “I already cleansed off-camera because, well, my toddler smeared porridge on my face earlier and that wasn’t very Vogue.”

She lifts a bottle toward the camera. “This is what I used, super gentle, because hormones after breastfeeding are no joke. I used this religiously when Isa was still newborn and I felt like a walking zombie with acne.”

Just then, there’s a tiny knock on the bathroom door. Y/N pauses.

“Mama?” A small voice calls.

She bites back a smile. “Come in, schatje.”

Isa waddles into the room in her little bunny-print pajamas, hair a curly mess, one sock missing, holding her plush lion by the tail. Her eyes are wide with sleepy curiosity as she pads in and immediately reaches her arms up.

Y/N lifts her easily, balancing the toddler on one hip.

“This is Isa,” she chuckles. “My shadow. She doesn’t believe in personal space. Or sleep-ins.”

Isa rests her head against Y/N’s shoulder and waves lazily at the camera, mumbling, “Hi Vogue.”

“I’m gonna keep going while she hangs out,” Y/N explains. “Mom life doesn’t pause for skincare, right?”

She manages to tone with one hand, dotting serum on her cheeks while Isa fiddles with the collar of her robe.

And then, “Lieverd?” Max’s voice comes from somewhere off-camera. “Have you seen her other sock? She left it in the pantry again, I think.”

Y/N rolls her eyes fondly. “Check under the cereal boxes.”

There’s a pause.

“Got it.”

Max enters a moment later, barefoot in sweatpants and one of Y/N’s oversized hoodies, holding the missing sock like it’s a trophy.

“Victory,” he smirks, and steps into view to slide it onto Isa’s tiny foot as she babbles softly.

“Oh, and if I didn’t mention it... I’m married to that guy,” Y/N gestures at him, “who sometimes borrows my hoodies and always makes me tea while I do this.”

As if on cue, Max returns moments later with a steaming mug and a kiss to her temple. He doesn’t say anything else, just gives her a little smile and nods toward the camera like you’ve got this before disappearing again.

Y/N smiles after him.

“Okay, so next, I use this moisturizer. I keep it in the fridge because Max likes our house at ‘race car garage’ levels of cold and my skin can’t cope.”

She taps product on her face gently, still bouncing Isa in her arms.

“Lip balm,” she adds, reaching across the counter. “I don’t go anywhere without it. This one smells like mango. Isa always tries to eat it.”

“Mine,” Isa declares sleepily, snatching it from Y/N’s hand.

Y/N laughs. “Told you.”

There’s another interruption, this time the sound of a crash followed by Max’s startled “Alles goed?!” from the other room.

Y/N blinks at the camera, totally unbothered. “That’s our cat knocking over Max’s trophies again. She has a personal vendetta against the Monaco one.”

She finishes her makeup: light concealer, brow gel, tinted lip balm, all with Isa still perched on her hip.

“Oh, and when I do go to races, I do a bit more. Blush, mascara, maybe eyeliner if Isa hasn’t decided my makeup brush is her new toy.”

From the mirror, you can see Max re-entering, now carrying their cat under one arm and waving a toy toothbrush in the other.

“Does this belong to the tiny dictator?”

Isa perks up. “MINE!”

Max hands it over solemnly. “I thought so.”

He leans against the counter again, watching as Y/N wraps up her routine.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs under his breath.

Y/N smiles at the compliment but turns it into a tease. “Even without the mascara?”

Max grins. “Always.”

The camera catches Isa reaching over to swipe her fingers in the blush compact and smear it across Y/N’s cheek. Y/N gasps in mock horror while Max bursts into a quiet laugh.

“Raw and unfiltered,” Y/N tells the camera, dabbing at her cheek. “Exactly what Vogue asked for, right?”

She sets Isa down gently, and the little girl waddles over to Max, nestling herself into his arms like a koala.

“I don’t get a lot of ‘me’ time,” Y/N admits, tucking her hair behind her ears. “But I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. It’s messy. Loud. Exhausting. But also, really, really full of love.”

Max leans into the frame for a moment, his voice soft. “That’s because you’re the heart of it.”

Y/N blushes, swats him away gently, and turns back to the camera.

“Thank you for watching this chaos. And Vogue? If you ever want a dad edition of this, Max has a killer 7-step beard care routine he refuses to admit to.”

Max, now offscreen, calls out, “That’s classified information.”

Y/N grins. “Bye, Vogue.”

She reaches to turn off the camera just as Isa squeals from the other room: “DAAAADDY! Cat stole my toast!”

Fade to black.

------

The end...

[dotpip]

Redraw of my very first comic that’s just over a year old.

[rex-rambles]

➤ PROUD | MAX VERSTAPPEN

pairing: max verstappen x wife! reader, kimi antonelli + max + reader (platonic)

summary: kimi gets his first podium, max finds you crying in a bathroom, and you both realize you want to start a family together

wc: 2.6 k

warnings: none! a few innuendos on max's part

➤ MASTERLIST

You had been married to Max long enough to recognize when his focus shifted. When he stopped paying attention to useless questions, when a car caught his eye, when he heard someone saying something wrong about anything, really. It was the subtlest of changes, the softest of looks, but you saw the way he turned, just slightly, when the TV in the motorhome played a clip of the rookies, talking about pressure and the reality of F1. 

He watched from the corner of his eye, his notes still in hand, so that anyone who might walk by would think he was deeply focused, and not distracted by a simple broadcast. You, however, know better.

You push off the counter of the small coffee bar, coming to take the hat from his head, and rake your hand through his hair instead. 

He smiles slightly at the action, letting his attention break to look up at you. "Do you think they miss their mums?" You ask, eyes finding the broadcast. Max would've been about their age when he started, so young, so full of dreams. You weren't that much older than them really, but it was still enough to be daunting. 

Being 18, like Kimi, was the time of little independent steps, going away to university, starting something new. Becoming a world-famous F1 driver when you're not even old enough to drink in some countries had to be quite the trip. "What?" Max responds, now turning to give the TV his full attention. "The rookies?" 

"They just look so young." Doing all this, on their own. They might have teams and managers and fellow drivers, but it had to be terrifying. "It's got to be hard, away from family like that. And on Father's Day, too." 

"I didn't miss my parents," Max says, returning to the notes in his lap as he lies. He can never look at you when he does. You never pressed about his childhood, though all you can imagine is that poor boy, charting across Europe alone to do all of these races, with all the stress. It can't be good for children, even if they are racing prodigies. "I turned out fine." 

There's a beat of silence where you don't answer, and he lets out a soft breath. 

"Fine, relatively speaking." He corrects. "Besides, with all the karting and F2 or F3, they're used to travel." 

"Even when they're still in school, poor things." Max glances back at the TV as the clip of Isack hugging Lewis's dad plays, and your heart dislodges in your chest. That's a lot of pressure, something that never goes away with F1, or at least you've never seen it leave Max. He was becoming a beacon for the rookies, maybe because of it. He probably knew better than anyone how to handle that sort of pressure, the lifestyle change. 

Someone walks by, cutting through the moment, and you and Max just look at each other as you wait for them to leave. There was so much more to be said on this kind of topic, specifically behind closed doors, but there was more than just Max being a good mentor that played into it. Finally, the person leaves, and Max returns to his notes. "If you're worried about their education, you could help them with their homework." 

"Maybe I can cook them a nice meal. You can have them over." Max laughs, then, getting up from his chair to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close to him. The move startles you, so quick and so in public, but you lived for these stolen moments. Max was always like this when he knew no one could see. Little bursts of energy, the hidden romance that was best protected when others weren't around. You didn't mind by now, really. You'd rather your kisses be private than spread across Instagram. "What?" 

"You are something else," He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Worry about me for a change, hm? Where's my home cooked meals?" 

"They're a treat for when you win," You say as you press a quick kiss to his lips before finally pushing away. The last thing you needed was some photographer walking in on you two. "So go lose, yeah? Saves me from having to do the dishes." 

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he prepares to go, and you're struck by a feeling you can't quite describe. It's a strange sort of love that twists in your gut, almost complete but not quite. Loving Max was always just a full-bodied feeling, that some small part of it missing was obvious. It wasn't nerves, though the butterflies still came out as he raced, as he battled for second place. 

It wasn't anger, or concern, or sadness, no strange emotion you couldn't place. Instead, it just felt like you were waiting for the last piece to click into place, even if you didn't realize what it was. Max gets second, and the win doesn't really fix it either, though you're happy he placed well. He probably wasn't the most enthused at George's first, but then, as the racers settle, you realize who came in third: 

Kimi. 

Little Kimi, with his homework and the pressure and now, you realize as you watch the nearby Mercedes garage, without his parents. 

That must be awful, you find yourself thinking as your heart sinks further into your stomach. What a race to miss, to have no one there to celebrate. The big screens catch your eye as you see Max approach Kimi, and for a moment, the world pauses as Max pulls him into a quick hug that feels like it might last forever. 

That's the missing piece, you think. 

Max had always been so good with kids. Whether his little nieces or nephews, or teenagers like Kimi, he had a way with them. He was patient, and funny, and kind, and welcoming. He was saying something to Kimi as your visions swims before you, a mix of emotions that truly catch you by surprise. 

It's pride, and heartbreak, and knowing. 

That could be your son someday. Maybe he had just done well on a test, or won a competition, you didn't care, and Max was hugging him like a father would. You turn back toward the Red Bull garage's bathroom, quick to try to calm yourself, but it's no use. 

Max would make a fantastic father one day, and for the very first time, you realize that's something you can pursue. 

-

There was something going on with you lately. Max hadn't really had too much time to notice it, with the triple headers and your work schedule, but you were just...softer. Not in a bad way, and not in a way he'd ever vocalize, but you were just so utterly irresistible and sweet. He didn't want to get out of bed, didn't want to leave your side, didn't even mind hearing you talk about ridiculous things like rookies being lonely and the best parks near his apartment. 

But there was something brewing under the surface, and he didn't really know what. 

Then again, he also just got 2nd place, and you're not at the barrier to greet him, so he doesn't really have time to focus on that either. He chalks it up to the crowds crushing in to get to George and Kimi, both for George's first win of the season and Kimi's first podium, both of whom refuse to stop smiling, especially once they get to the podium platform. Even from up above, however, Max can't seem to spot you. He can always find you in a crowd, a skill he prides himself on. 

You were wearing one of his hats, and a cute little white dress, so it should be easy, but you're not with his team, not with the crowd. 

Nowhere. 

Finally, when he gets back to his driver's room, and it's empty, does he start to worry. "Have you seen-" He barely gets the word out before one of his attendants is gesturing towards the restroom with a strange expression, and Max panics at the thought of you being sick, of something being wrong, and he quickly knocks on the door. "Love? You okay?" 

"Shit, Max-" Your voice sounds hoarse and Max's heart breaks at the thought of you being sick while he was out celebrating, but when you open the door just a crack, he realizes it's something else entirely. "Sorry, sorry, I'm a mess." 

You let him into the restroom, a small space considering it's just a little side room, but that sort of invasion of each other's space had never bothered either of you. What does bother him is the tear-tracks on your cheeks, the way you laugh sadly as you try to wipe away the evidence. "What's wrong?" 

You crying is not the most uncommon sight in the world, but the last time you cried at one of his races was because he won his fourth championship title. Maybe you were crying over how poorly he was doing? Maybe something terrible happened? "The video-" 

"What video?" Max rushes out, coming to cup your face in his hands. "I swear, if anyone said anything-" 

"You hugged," You say with another soft laugh, now truly confusing him. Max tries to wrack his brain for the last time he hugged a woman that might be taken as him cheating, and then what it might take for you to have a mental break. "And his dad wasn't there." 

"What?" Then, the pieces click into place. "Kimi?" You nod, sniffing softly as you wipe at your nose with a tissue. "You're crying...because I hugged Kimi?" 

"Our little baby got his first podium." 

Our. 

Little. 

Baby. 

Oh shit. "Are you pregnant?" 

"What?" That seems to snap you from your tears, looking up at him before reaching out to smack his arm. "No! I can be emotional without being hormonal!" 

"I wasn't saying that," He soothes, though he finds himself somewhat saddened by the answer in a way he never thought he would be. "You just called him our baby." 

"He's your baby," You joke, covering your face with your hands. "He won and you hugged him, and his parents are here, and he's probably so happy I just...I can't. How could you not cry? He worked so hard!" 

Max slowly wraps his arms around you and gently rocks you, unable to stop the growing smile on his face. Only you could get emotional about another man getting on the podium. You'd probably be like this for all the rookies, he thinks. He'll need to start packing more tissues. "But you didn't come to watch." I missed you, he wants to say, but right now is not about him. 

"I didn't want anyone to see me like this and take it wrong." You say, muffled by his shoulder. "If I saw him in person I'd probably start bawling." 

"Well, you should go congratulate him if it moved you to tears." He says, somewhat teasing, somewhat not. It was a very big thing for Kimi to finally get on the podium, and you were right. He worked hard to get here, taking third place in a way many other drivers couldn't currently. 

Maybe crying over it was a bit much, but being proud? That was understandable. "Give me your sunglasses." 

"Anything for you," He says, reluctantly pulling the sunglasses he'd hung on his shirt collar and handing them out to you. You walk, then, hand in hand through the garages before reaching Mercedes, which Max realizes is somewhat enemy territory, but for you, he doesn't mind. Kimi is off to the side to take pictures with some of the mechanics, all beaming ear to ear, and he hears you sniff beside him. "Hey, Kimi." 

Kimi looks up with a grin, and you offer a small wave. "I just wanted to come congratulate you," You say, and Kimi immediately goes in for a hug, which somehow makes Max more emotional as he watches it. 

That's the missing piece, he thinks, what he wasn't getting about the tears.

You were always so good with kids. Whether Max's own nieces or nephews, or teenagers like Kimi, you were always so good with them. Even now, Kimi sinks into your arms like you're his mother, like it was the kind of hug he needed. You already were so patient with Max, you had to be with children, so warm and honest and welcoming. Kimi could be your kid someday, maybe after having a hard day, or maybe after a good one, just needing comfort. 

You would be an incredible mom someday, and as Max had said earlier, he'd do anything for you. A little baby, clad in Red Bull gear, with his hair colour and your eyes, it would be perfect. 

Anything you make would be perfect. "I'm so proud." You say as you pull back. "Your parents must be so proud! Third! You're first podium!" 

"You're going to make me cry," Kimi sniffs, and Max watches your bottom lip tremble. "No, no, don't cry too!" 

"Alright, alright." Max wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his side. "Both of you." 

"Emotions are meant to be felt!" You say stubbornly, a reminder Max has had to hear plenty of times. You had never made him feel guilty when he got angry, never made him feel like he couldn't be sad. It was the sort of thing a parent should have said to him as a kid, the sort of thing that would make you a fantastic parent now. 

"You know what they call you?" Kimi says, more to Max than you. "Mother Hen. Now you are Mother and Father Hen." 

You tense in Max's arm, and he softly laughs. "We're adopting him." You state bluntly, looking up to Max. "Can we adopt all of them?" 

"Bit late to adopt, I think." He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "We'll just have to make our own." 

"Hey!" Kimi says, hands flying to his ears like an actual kid as he laughs.

"You can be our babysitter," Max continues, reaching out to shake hands with the boy, who happily shakes it back. You, on the other hand, are shooting Max a rather strange look. "What? It'll be good for him to have a normal job for once." 

"We can all take turns," Kimi agrees eagerly. "Ollie and I-" 

You finally laugh, shaking your head as you take a step back, and Max doesn't blame you. Those boys probably got into more strange situations than Max did at that age, which is saying something. "There is no way both you and Ollie are looking after them. That is a recipe for disaster waiting to happen." 

"What's a disaster waiting to happen?" George asks, and now it's Max's turn to tense. He was very good at being civil, good at hiding it too, but that didn't cut the tension in the air.

"Ollie and Kimi babysitting for us." You answer for him, head coming to lean back against Max's shoulder in an attempt to soothe him. It's the sort of admissions that would make headlines if it got out, but considering what Max was planning on tonight?

Probably wasn't too early to announce the baby.

"Babysitting?" George echoes, shocked. "Are you expecting?" 

"Not currently," Max says before he can help it. "Give it about nine months." 

"Max!" Your face flushes red, smacking at his arm, and he takes it as his cue to leave. "You are unbelievable!" 

"Congratulations, Kimi." Max says as he leads you away, trying hard not to laugh as both Kimi and George exchange looks. "George." 

You wave goodbye, turning around to look at them, and Max keeps his arm around your waist to drag you backwards. "You both did so well! You better celebrate tonight."

"I think you are celebrating enough for the both of us." Kimi answers, and George turns on him like a scandalized mother.

You laugh as you turn back around, and Max finds that he missed the sound. You crying was easily one of the things he hated most in this world, meaning your laugh is one of the things he loved the most.

Your hand slips into his, offering a squeeze. Only when you're finally out of earshot, the rest of the crews and the microphones and the eavesdroppers hidden away, do you tug harder on Max's hand, drawing his attention. "Do you mean that? About starting a family?" 

"Like I said, anything for you." Then, after a beat, "We're not naming our kid Kimi." 

"I know," You answer, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "I was thinking George." 

a/n: KIMI PODIUM! didn't realize i was a kimi fan until i genuinely got emotional at seeing him come third.

[0scarp1astr1]

 ˖ 𐔌 𝐃𝐚𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞࿐ .

۫જ⁀➴ Desc: || Max and you always planned the best birthday parties for your daughter, Sofie. But, with the weight of her not having friends and a birthday going wrong. Max is willing to step in and make everything right. ||

ᯓ★ (Dad) Max Verstappen x Fem! (Mom) Reader

ᯓ★ 3x Genre: Fluff, Humor, (bit) of angst

ᯓ★ Warning: Minor bullying, and of course, an angry dad Max.

ᯓ★ Requested? No

Author Note: Here is some Max dad fluff, I am glad that some people are enjoying the dad writing so far. I do plan to create dad fics for most of the drivers, just cause parenthood on them is actually cute. Remember, my requests are open, as well as my messages!

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If someone had told you years ago that you’d one day be Mrs. Verstappen, you would’ve laughed so hard tears welled in your eyes. You would have denied it with every fiber of your being, maybe even swore on your career that it would never happen. And yet, here you were.

You remember the first time you saw him clearly—Max Verstappen, standing off to the side of the Red Bull garage, jaw tight, his face carved in frustration. It was post-qualifying, and something had gone horribly wrong. You hadn’t needed to check the screens to know—his muttering, the way his hand combed aggressively through his hair, and the sharp glares toward the engineering team told you everything. He was livid.

You worked for Red Bull Racing, and it wasn’t the first time you’d seen him like that. People tiptoed around him, allowing him space to rant, to burn off the steam like an overheated engine. You gave him that space, too—but not without approaching him with a bottle of water. “Want to throw it at someone or actually drink it?” you asked lightly, eyebrows raised.

His lips curved, just barely. “Both,” he muttered, taking the bottle from you.

And that was the beginning.

It started quietly. Texting. Late-night phone calls. Glances stolen in the chaos of a race weekend. He was intense, unapologetically so, and never cared to soften himself for the sake of perception. But with you, he didn't have to. You learned his language—understood that his silence didn’t mean absence, his anger didn’t mean hatred. He had sharp edges, but he never cut you with them.

Behind closed doors, after draining media days, he’d find you. He’d fall into your arms like he needed you to keep him grounded. “I’m not a bad guy,” he whispered into your hair once, exhausted. “They just… they don’t see me.”

“I do,” you whispered back. “I always do.”

You were his armor. When engineers muttered judgmental remarks, you were swift with your defense. When Jos Verstappen made comments laced with toxic pride or passive disappointment, you stood up taller, redirecting the energy in the room. And when Christian Horner made jokes that crossed the line, you didn't hesitate to call him out. Max didn’t always say it, but it filled him with smug satisfaction. He loved knowing you didn’t fear anyone—not for him.

When he finally asked you out, it was your birthday. You hadn’t expected anything beyond a few wishes from the paddock, maybe a slice of cake from the catering crew. But there he was—waiting outside your flat with the exact cake you mentioned in passing weeks ago.

“Be my girlfriend,” he asked, the moment the candlelight flickered between you two.

You stared at him, stunned. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “I’m not playing games with you. Not when it’s you.”

And from that moment on, he was yours. In private at first, by choice, not shame. The peace of an undisclosed relationship was intoxicating. But all it took was one slip-up in an interview—Max, talking about the importance of his "team," then gesturing at you and proudly adding, “My girlfriend, she’s my team too.” And just like that, the world knew.

He shielded you from the worst of it. He didn’t mind the cameras, the rumors, the headlines—so long as they stayed away from you. You loved him all the more for that.

Then came the proposal—romantic, quiet, over dinner under the Monaco stars. You said yes through tears. He told the whole world, but most importantly, his family. The F1 WAGs pulled you into an emotional celebration, all teary eyes and champagne flutes. You’d found sisters in them. They stood by your side on your wedding day, and eventually, you became Mrs. Verstappen.

Your life together unfolded in Monaco—a haven of love and racing memorabilia. The walls were adorned with trophies, framed pictures, and cat towers. Three cats, each more spoiled than the last. But nothing prepared you for the day you realized there was more than just fur babies in your future.

You were pregnant.

The baby shower was intimate, warm. Charles, Daniel, and Checo argued over who Sofie would call “Uncle” first. They made bets and silly presentations. And when Sofie was born, everything changed.

Max’s world shrank to her. He held her like she was made of stardust, something too delicate to exist. He cried—actual tears—and kissed her forehead with a reverence you’d never seen before.

“She’s so small,” he whispered, eyes wide. “So perfect.”

The protective dad mode kicked in hard. Drivers came to visit with gift baskets and toys—each of them getting a lecture from Max. “Hands washed. Masks on. No sneezing. Touch nothing until instructed.”

Sofie rolled over during tummy time, crawled in your living room, walked across the cat-strewn floor with Max filming and softly cheering. Her birthdays became events of pure magic.

Her first: pastel princess fantasy. Max teared up watching her toddle around in her tiara. Lando caught him. “Are you crying?” he whispered, smirking.

Max sniffled, glaring. “No.”

After the party, when Sofie was asleep, you cleaned confetti off the floor with aching feet and gave Max a tired high five. “Success.”

“Always,” he said, brushing a kiss to your temple.

Her second: unicorns. Lando in costume. Carlos wheezing from laughter. “I might hire you in the future,” Carlos told Lando, who was sweltering in glitter and misery.

“Public humiliation,” Lando muttered.

Her third: animals. Of course. Oscar was the zookeeper, Lando a lion again, Fernando a grumpy honorary guest who Sofie insisted on including. You snapped photos of it all—blackmail, surely, for future teenage rebellion.

“Drink and movie?” you asked Max that night.

He kissed your knuckles. “Of course, mijn liefste.”

Her fourth: Sesame Street. Daniel was Cookie Monster by force. “She likes him,” Max offered, stealing a cupcake.

“She’s my niece. That’s the only reason I’m doing this,” Daniel muttered, swiping frosting off his suit.

Lewis wandered in. “Have you seen Roscoe?”

“She’s feeding him snacks under the table,” you said casually. “Good luck with that.”

Another successful party. Another sleepy Sofie, surrounded by “uncles” on the floor. Another high five. Another kiss goodnight.

But now… now she was turning five.

And something shifted.

Her dolls? Dusty. Her tiaras? Forgotten. Her plushies? Stuffed in the toy box, untouched.

“She’s changing,” you said one night, sitting beside Max, folding laundry. “She’s not into the princess phase anymore.”

He looked at you, thoughtful. “It’s a phase, schatje. She’s growing. Let her.”

You tried to believe it. But it still stung.

One morning, you served pancakes, placing the final plate down in front of your daughter. She sat across from Max, legs swinging under the table, hair tied up in her favorite pink scrunchie.

“What do you want to do for your birthday this year, lieve?” you asked with a warm smile.

Her eyes lit up. “Race cars! Like Papa’s racing!”

Your hand froze mid-air. You blinked. Max looked up from his coffee, noticing the way your expression faltered.

You smiled softly. “Race cars?”

“Yep!” she grinned. “I wanna drive and be fast and beat everyone like Papa!”

Max reached over, resting a reassuring hand on your thigh under the table. “She’s watching us, schatje.”

You blinked the emotion away, forcing a grin. “Race cars it is.”

She clapped, delighted.

Later that night, when Sofie was asleep, Max pulled you close. “She’s still your baby,” he whispered against your hair.

“I know.” You sniffled. “But she’s not… little anymore.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice thick with affection. “No matter how fast she grows, no one replaces you. You’re the one who made this life possible. You gave me everything.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The next morning unfolded with a calm softness—rare, but welcomed. The skies above Monaco were clear, sunshine glittering off the glass buildings as Max drove through the winding city streets. You sat in the passenger seat, one arm casually resting along the console, the other hand wrapped around your warm coffee. Sofie sat in her car seat behind you, kicking her little legs and rambling excitedly in the way only a child could.

“…and the cupcakes should be chocolate, but also strawberry, and then we can have a race track cake, and Papa can bring his car—just for the party! And balloons, but red, not pink. Pink is for babies, Mama.”

You chuckled, glancing at Max with an amused raise of your brow. “You hear that? No pink. She’s officially too grown up for princess themes.”

Max smirked. “That’s devastating. I was looking forward to wearing another tiara.”

“Please,” you said, laughing. “Last year you wore it better than I did. Checo still has that photo framed.”

Sofie leaned forward, strapped tightly in her booster but determined to be part of the conversation. “Can Jack come too?”

“Jack?” you echoed, glancing back. “Of course, baby. I’ll talk to Toto and Susie. I’m sure they’ll bring him. He wouldn't miss it.”

Sofie squealed in delight, kicking her feet. “Yay! Jack and me are gonna beat everyone on the track!”

You smiled, already picturing the chaos of five-year-olds with tiny karts and an F1 audience cheering them on. You looked at Max, a warmth tugging at your chest. “Tell the drivers to hurry up and have kids. Our daughter needs a whole junior paddock.”

Max laughed. “That’s a dangerous idea.”

You smirked. “Why? Scared of a new generation?”

He made a show of pretending to think. “Oscar and Lily? Too busy being adorable. Yuki… still can’t take care of himself, let alone a baby. Lando? God help us all if he becomes someone’s dad right now.”

You snorted. “Amen.”

“And Fernando?” Max continued. “That man will father a championship before he fathers a child.”

You arched a brow. “And Lewis?”

“Lewis has Roscoe. That’s already a full-time kid,” Max said, glancing at you with a grin. “High maintenance.”

You both laughed until a tiny voice interrupted.

“Mama! Papa!” Sofie called, wriggling in her seat. “Invite my other friends too!”

You twisted to look at her. “Your other friends? You mean the ones at school?”

She shook her head quickly, digging through her little sparkly backpack like it was filled with secrets. With dramatic flair, she pulled out several sealed envelopes—gold stickers keeping them closed—and held them up like treasure.

“My racing friends. My brothers!” she said with a proud little nod.

You blinked, taking the envelopes as she handed them to you one by one. “Brothers?”

And then it clicked.

Kimi Antonelli. Ollie Bearman. Isack Hadjar. Liam Lawson.

They weren’t just names in F2 and F1. They were constants in Sofie’s little universe—regular faces at your table, in your living room, voices that made her light up with pure joy. To her, they weren’t rising stars or young drivers. They were her playmates, protectors, snack thieves, homework buddies—her brothers.

Max glanced at you and you saw the exact same realization cross his face.

“Right,” you said gently, brushing a hand over her knee. “Of course. Me and Papa will invite them, too. They’ll be there, baby.”

Sofie cheered again, eyes wide with excitement, and you felt your chest squeeze. You turned back toward the front as Max stopped at a red light, and for a brief moment, the hum of the world quieted.

“She really loves them,” you murmured.

“They really love her back,” Max replied softly.

You smiled to yourself, already seeing it in your mind—the boys trickling in, older but still so gentle with her. You remembered how Kimi would show up with his homework, slouched in your kitchen chair, pencil in hand while Sofie sat beside him with her toy laptop pretending to help. She called him “Kimi the Smart,” and he never corrected her—even when he barely passed a math test.

Ollie would stop by unannounced, digging through your snack drawer with the kind of hunger only a young driver could justify. “She said I could have cookies,” he’d argue. Sofie would appear from the hallway, arms crossed. “Only if you read me a bedtime story first.” And he always did.

Isack came for the food. Not the snacks—real meals. “It’s better than the paddock,” he always claimed as he helped set the table. He’d let Sofie braid his hair, even though it was barely long enough, and pretend to cry when she tightened it too hard.

Liam was dragged into everything—from tea parties to “driveway grand prix” races with tricycles. Once, he walked into your living room in a full Elsa dress, crown and all, because Sofie had insisted. Max nearly cried laughing. Liam stayed in it the whole afternoon.

They weren’t just boys passing through. They were part of the family you built. They showed up, again and again, not for obligation—but because they wanted to. Because Sofie mattered to them, and maybe, in a strange way, you and Max had created something much larger than a family of three.

You'd created a home that people wanted to come back to.

Max reached over and took your hand as the car rolled forward. “She really is growing up fast, huh?”

You nodded. “Too fast. But I think we’re doing okay.”

He glanced in the mirror at Sofie, who was now humming to herself, staring out the window like she could already see her party coming to life.

“We’re doing better than okay,” he said. “We gave her a team.”

You smiled, leaning back into your seat. “One hell of a team.”

The car rolled gently to a stop in front of Sofie’s school. Max reached over to put it in park, the soft click echoing in the morning hush. In the backseat, Sofie was quiet now, her earlier giggles and chatter about the party giving way to a more withdrawn stillness. She stared out the window, backpack clutched tightly in her lap, the colorful invitations barely peeking out from the front pocket.

You turned around from the front seat, noticing the shift. Her lips were slightly pursed, eyebrows scrunched just a little in thought—something she only did when she was nervous or trying not to cry.

You reached over to open her car door and unbuckle her from the car seat. As you leaned in, she looked at you carefully, her eyes wide.

“So… my brothers are really coming?” she asked softly.

You smiled warmly, smoothing back a wisp of her soft hair. “Yes, baby. I already told you, we’ll invite them today. They’ll be there. Especially Kimi.”

That brought the tiniest spark back to her face. “Tell bubba Kimi to bring Eli, please?” she asked in a small, hopeful voice. “She paints my nails really pretty… like the sparkle kind.”

Max chuckled from the driver’s seat, resting one arm out the window. “You’ve got quite the party committee forming.”

“She’s like a celebrity already,” you said with a soft laugh, grabbing Sofie’s bag. “Red carpet, mani-pedi, guest list.”

Sofie smiled faintly, then turned to Max. “Bye, Papa,” she said, blowing him a kiss.

He caught it with both hands this time, exaggeratedly pressing it to his cheek. “Have fun, sweet girl. Be fast, be kind, be you.”

That earned another small smile. You helped her down from the car, and she immediately reached for your hand, holding it tighter than usual as you began walking her toward the school.

As you entered the familiar hallway, the noise of the morning buzzed around you—shoes squeaking, zippers zipping, the hum of chatter and laughter. And then, a few feet ahead, a group of little girls stood in a loose circle near the classroom door, showing off big pastel bows clipped into their ponytails. Each girl had her own distinct color—lavender, bubblegum pink, sunshine yellow. They giggled, whispering as one showed off her sparkly unicorn clip.

You felt Sofie’s steps slow.

“Those are the girls you told me and Papa about, right? The ones who love unicorns and snacks?” you asked, glancing at them and then down at her.

She hesitated.

Then nodded. “Yeah,” she said quickly. “They’re my best friends.”

Her voice was a little too high-pitched, a little too forced. You didn’t catch it—not fully. You were watching the girls, not her.

You smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “That’s great, sweetie. Make sure you give them their invitations, okay? They’ll be so excited.”

She didn’t answer, just gave a small nod, her grip on your hand tightening. You walked her the rest of the way to the classroom, where her teacher stood by the door greeting students.

“Good morning!” the teacher beamed.

“Morning!” you greeted in return, then crouched down to meet Sofie at her level. “Alright, soon-to-be birthday girl. I want you to have a really great day, okay? Be your kind, brave, smart self. And remember—don’t let anyone tell you your glitter bow isn’t cool.”

She looked at you for a long moment. And then, without a word, she suddenly threw her arms around your neck, hugging you tight.

So tight it surprised you.

“Oh,” you laughed softly, hugging her back. “Big squeeze!”

But she didn’t let go right away. She stayed there for a few seconds longer, her small frame pressed to yours. You didn’t see the way her face scrunched up, the way she blinked fast, trying to push down the sting in her eyes. You didn’t feel the way her chest trembled just slightly when she pulled away, looking down at the floor as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder.

“Hey,” you whispered gently, brushing your knuckles across her cheek. “You alright?”

She nodded again quickly. “Mhm. I’m okay.”

Her voice wavered, just a little. But then she stepped into the classroom.

You handed the teacher the small stack of extra invitations you had tucked in your purse, just in case. “We’re planning the party this weekend. She’s got quite a list.”

“She’s been talking about it for weeks,” the teacher said with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll help her hand them out.”

You smiled in gratitude, stepping aside as another cluster of kids passed by. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sofie sit down at her table, setting her bag beside her and slipping an envelope out to place in a cubby. You watched her glance up at the girls with the bows, who were still standing in their circle, whispering. They didn’t even look at her.

But she looked at them.

Just for a second.

Then back down to her desk.

You waved gently. She didn’t see it—her eyes were on her hands now, fidgeting in her lap.

You turned to leave, calling a final soft goodbye before walking back out into the sunlit morning.

Max was leaning on the car now, still nursing his coffee. He looked up as you approached, sensing something.

“All good?” he asked, tossing the empty cup in a nearby bin.

You nodded with a sigh, sliding your sunglasses on. “She hugged me like she was going off to war, but yeah. She’s good.”

“Maybe just nerves,” Max said, unlocking the car. “Party planning pressure.”

“Maybe,” you replied, sliding into your seat.

But even as you said it, a small thought nagged at the back of your mind.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

With Sofie dropped off at school, the car ride home was quiet, almost still. You sat beside Max, fingers tapping at a to-do list on your phone, while he drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting comfortably between you.

“She asked for Eli,” you murmured, glancing over at him.

Max chuckled, the sound low and affectionate. “I heard. Bubba Kimi better show up with a whole salon kit.”

You smiled, heart a little full at the thought of your daughter wanting her "big siblings" at her party—Kimi and his girlfriend Eli included. She had her favorites, and Eli, with her fun nail kits and bright makeup bags, was always welcomed with open arms.

“We’ve got a lot to do before next weekend,” you sighed, leaning back in the seat.

“Which is why we’re seeing Toto and Susie,” Max said, turning the wheel. “Let’s get it done.”

By the time you reached their villa nestled in the Monaco hills, the late morning sun had lit up the soft cream stones of their front terrace. Monaco’s skyline glistened in the distance, but here, everything felt a bit slower, more personal.

Susie greeted you both at the door with that signature warmth of hers. “You’re early,” she teased, stepping back to let you in. “Which means you’re either running from something or planning something.”

“Both,” you joked. “We need help.”

“Breakfast first,” she smiled, already heading back toward the kitchen. “Toto’s in the back garden, sulking over emails and espresso.”

Max gave you a look and smirked. “He’s always in that state.”

You laughed together as you followed her in. The table was set with fresh fruit, flaky croissants, eggs, and plenty of coffee. You hardly got to sit down before Toto appeared through the sliding glass doors, sleeves rolled, sunglasses perched atop his head, holding a small plate of berries.

“Well if it isn’t Monaco’s most stubborn couple,” he said, placing his plate down. “What brings the Verstappens to my home this early?”

“We come with birthday demands,” Max said flatly, settling in with a croissant.

You leaned in. “It’s about Sofie’s party.”

Toto raised a brow, clearly interested.

“She wants a karting theme this year,” you began. “And not the pretend kind, either. She’s serious. She wants a track.”

“And she doesn’t just want to play at racing,” Max added. “She wants to race. Helmets. Flags. Mini podiums.”

Toto leaned back, his expression unreadable. “You know this is Monaco, right? We don’t exactly have open space just lying around.”

“We thought about that,” you said, pulling out your phone. “But we found something.”

You tapped open a photo of a tucked-away private outdoor kart track just outside the main city—close to the water, low-profile, small enough to keep intimate and safe, but polished enough to look impressive.

Toto leaned in. “This is the one near Fontvieille?”

“Yeah,” Max said. “Heard you’ve hosted a few team events there.”

“Private. Gated. Decent track for kids. There’s a viewing deck too,” Toto said, nodding slowly. “It’s not bad.”

“We want it for her birthday,” you said. “The whole afternoon. Preferably media-free, completely private.”

“She wants her friends to race too,” Max added, stealing a strawberry from your plate. “And her 'brothers'—Kimi, Ollie, Isack, Liam. She's got them all on a list.”

“And she specifically asked for Jack,” you added with a knowing smile. “So you and Susie have to come.”

Toto exhaled, but there was no resistance behind it. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Alright. I can make the calls. I know the guy who runs it—he owes me a favor or two.”

“See? I told you he still had his Mercedes clout,” Max joked, nudging your knee under the table.

Susie grinned. “You’re lucky we adore that little girl.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out four glittery, slightly crumpled envelopes. “She wanted these delivered personally.”

Toto took them carefully, reading the names: Kimi, Ollie, Isack, Liam.

“She calls them her racing brothers,” Max said, glancing toward the garden.

“And she asked for Eli to come too,” you added. “She loves how she paints her nails and makes her feel grown-up.”

“Eli’s already asking what color she wants,” Susie laughed. “I think she’s going to bring a little kit for all the girls.”

“That’ll make her so happy,” you said, the warmth curling in your chest. “She’s so ready for this birthday. I just want to get it right.”

“You two always do,” Susie said sincerely.

You glanced at Max, who gave you that soft, rare smile—the one only for you, the one he wore when you both shared the silent understanding of just how lucky you were.

Toto stood with a stretch. “I’ll call the track manager today. If all goes well, you’ll have your mini-Monaco Grand Prix ready to go.”

Max clapped his hands together. “Perfect. Now we just need to build a podium.”

“Oh, she’s already asking for trophies,” you said with a laugh. “I may have to get them custom made.”

“I’ll get Jack practicing his wave,” Toto muttered.

You all burst into laughter, the morning filled with more than just plans—it held warmth, community, and the kind of love you couldn’t script if you tried.

As your coffee cup neared empty and the conversation began to slow, you leaned back in your chair, fingers laced loosely over your stomach as you glanced between Toto and Susie.

“Do you guys know if George and Carmen are busy today?” you asked, your tone casual, but already mentally organizing what needed to be done next.

Toto sat back with a thoughtful hum, brushing a crumb off his shirt. “I don’t think so. George mentioned he had the weekend off, and Carmen said something about wanting to check out that new home decor boutique near the harbor, but nothing concrete. Worth texting them.”

You nodded, already reaching for your phone. Before you could tap the screen, you glanced at Max.

“And you,” you said, narrowing your eyes in mock warning, “for once, can you please put whatever unspoken, silly track drama you’ve got with George behind you? Just for Sofie?”

Susie snorted behind her mug, clearly entertained, while Toto chuckled under his breath.

Max raised both hands as if caught red-handed. “I’m not the one who keeps trying to ‘accidentally’ block him during qualifying.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

He sighed and leaned forward on his elbows, eyes softening slightly. “Alright. Fine. I’ll behave. It’s about Sofie, not me and George.”

You gave him an approving smile and reached over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. That’s all I needed to hear.”

“You guys are so dramatic,” Susie said, standing up to start clearing plates. “You’re just lucky you’re raising the cutest little girl on the grid.”

Toto stood too, taking the envelopes you'd handed him earlier. “I’ll call about the track the moment you leave. If it's available, it's yours. I’ll text you.”

“Perfect,” you said, rising to your feet. “Thank you both. For the food, the help, everything.”

You walked over to hug Susie tightly. “This birthday might actually come together.”

“It always does,” she said warmly.

“And thanks to you too, big boss,” you grinned, giving Toto a quick hug.

“You’re very welcome, princess of Red Bull,” he teased, earning a playful groan from Max.

As the door shut behind you and Max, the warm smell of Susie’s breakfast still clinging to your clothes, you walked down the steps with purpose.

“Okay! Before we meet up with George and Carmen,” you announced, tugging on Max’s sleeve as you both headed toward the car, “I need you to take me to Lando’s.”

Max stopped walking like you just asked him to drop you off at the devil’s front porch.

“Lando’s?” he asked, slowly turning toward you, narrowing his eyes. “As in Norris?”

You looked over your shoulder, already opening the passenger door. “Yes, as in Norris. I need to talk to him. Personally.”

Max blinked. “Personally?”

“Personally,” you repeated, hopping in the car like it was no big deal. “He owes me a favor.”

Max raised a brow and got in behind the wheel, giving you a suspicious side-eye. “Right. A favor. You sure you’re not just going over there so he can hit on you again in that stupid flirty voice he uses when he’s trying to pretend he has a chance?”

You grinned. “Max, please. I am a happily married woman,” you said, waving your hand in front of his face and flashing your wedding ring like it was a shield. “Married to the world champion. The father of my child. The man I trust to tell me when I’ve left the oven on. I’m not running off with Lando for some favors.”

Max muttered under his breath, “He probably color-coordinates the cones with his shoes.”

You snorted. “He does. And he also has a very cute balloon setup I’m trying to get for Sofie’s party. And I need a custom banner for her birthday, he's the man for the job, he's done it for his own niece—tell me that’s not fate.”

Max sighed as he started the car. “You know, if he flirts with you in that dumb little voice again, I might lock him in his McLaren simulator for 24 hours.”

“You’re welcome to try,” you teased, then leaned back in your seat, glancing at him sideways. “But you know I only flirt back when it’s for leverage.”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “You flirted back?”

You grinned. “Relax, Verstappen. I said if. Besides, he’s harmless. Like a golden retriever in Gucci sneakers. and I never flirt with Lando, besides he's always joking and I always jokingly tell him you'll kick his ass."

He shook his head, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You better not give him that smile.”

“What smile?” you asked innocently.

He turned to glance at you at a red light. “That one. The ‘I need something, and I’ll giggle while I ask’ smile.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said sweetly, already pulling out your phone. “Besides, it works.”

Max sighed again, defeated but amused. “Fine. Go to Lando’s. But I’m staying in the car. If he comes out shirtless again, I’m driving off without you.”

You laughed. “Fair. But if he’s shirtless, I’m definitely getting that balloon arch.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And still your wife.”

“That part I don’t regret,” he muttered, shaking his head as the car took off toward Lando’s place in the glittering hills of Monaco, your laughter echoing in the air.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You didn’t knock. You never did. At this point, Lando Norris should’ve expected you to waltz right into his Monaco flat like it was your second home.

“Breaking and entering again?” he called out as he heard the door open.

“Only breaking,” you called back, already making your way into the kitchen. “I’ve entered smoother places.”

Lando appeared around the corner, tousled curls, no shoes, and wearing a hoodie that clearly hadn't seen an iron in weeks. He gave you a skeptical look as you grabbed a sparkling water from his fridge like it was yours. “You’re awfully comfortable for someone trespassing.”

You took a sip, resting your hip against the counter. “Please. If I was trespassing, I wouldn’t be asking for a favor.”

His brows lifted. “Ah, so that’s what this is. What am I loaning now? My yacht? My soul?”

You smirked. “Sofie’s birthday is coming up, and we’re trying to keep it simple, fun, and personal. Max and I could throw her some wild, luxury-level event—but that’s not who we are. We want her to remember the love, not the bill.”

Lando softened a little. “That’s actually kind of sweet.”

You pointed at him. “Don’t get sentimental on me. I’m not done.”

He laughed.

“I remember you had that balloon arch set-up at your niece’s party. Orange and white? Minimal, but really cute. It’d be perfect for Sofie’s birthday.”

“You want to borrow it?” he asked, eyebrow cocked.

“Yes. I could go out and order some new one from some event planner, but… why? You already have it. It’s cute. And it’s from someone who actually likes Sofie. That means more to us than overpriced glitter balloons that’ll pop in five minutes.”

He gave you a lopsided grin. “You’re really pulling the emotional card, huh?”

You shrugged. “It’s not an act. We want people she loves involved in this day—not just vendors with clipboards. The less it feels like a show, the more it feels like home.”

He nodded, then raised a teasing brow. “What’s next, you want me to personally blow up all the balloons too?”

You pointed again. “I mean, if you’re offering…”

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Alright. I’ll get you the arch, and I’ll even throw in the mini banner I had made—just swap the name out.”

You lit up. “You’re a legend. And one more thing—if you’re thinking of getting her a gift…”

“Oh no. You’re not wrangling me into more.”

“You have a helmet collection,” you said, matter-of-factly. “She’s obsessed with them. Obsessed. She watches your behind-the-scenes vlogs and pauses to look at the shelves. A mini replica would make her year.”

Lando sighed dramatically, but there was no resistance. “Fine. I’ll see if I can get one custom-made. She deserves it.”

“See? That’s why I came to you.” You grinned. “Not because you’re the face of McLaren—though, you know, that helps—but because you care. That’s what we want for her birthday. People who care.”

He tilted his head. “Does Max know you’re here buttering me up?”

You checked your watch. “He’s in the car downstairs. I told him I needed to talk to you privately—strictly business. I assume he’s staring at the time, counting how long I’ve been alone with you.”

Lando chuckled. “Tell him I behaved.”

“Oh, I will. I’ll even tell him you offered to blow up the balloons.”

“Don’t push it.”

You pushed off the counter, tossing the empty bottle into his recycling bin. “You’re the best, Lando. Really.”

“Only because it’s for Sofie,” he called as you headed out.

You paused at the door and turned around. “Exactly why I came to you.”

“Came to me and not Oscar…” Lando muttered as he walked you to the door, arms lazily folded across his chest.

You turned back with a grin, already expecting the jab. “He’s next on my list. Love bothering dear ol’ Piastri. He’s so… composed. Watching him slowly unravel is kind of fun.”

Lando snorted. “What’s next—gonna ask him to DJ?”

You tilted your head, mock thoughtful. “You know, that’s actually not a bad idea…”

He stared at you, half horrified. “No. No, no, no. That man listens to silence recreationally. I wouldn’t trust him to run a toaster, let alone a sound system.”

You grinned. “To be fair, you wouldn’t be allowed to DJ at my kid’s party either.”

Lando put a hand over his chest, fake-offended. “Excuse me? I have taste.”

“You have a playlist titled ‘Pure Chaos, Vol. 2’. And the cover is just a blurry photo of you in sunglasses.”

“Artistic expression,” he defended, then sighed. “Fine. So I can’t DJ. But I can still bring the balloons, the arch, the banner. The classics. I’m reliable.”

You tapped your chin. “Actually, one more thing…”

He leaned in dramatically. “Is it a pony? Because I draw the line at live animals.”

You snapped your fingers. “Music. Bring a speaker. Nothing crazy—just something we can hook up to my phone. I’ll make a playlist with her favorite songs.”

“Like the Moana soundtrack on repeat?” he asked, deadpan.

You smiled. “Exactly. She also loves that silly Dutch song Max taught her. I have no clue what it says but she sings it like it’s gospel.”

He chuckled. “Alright. I’ll bring a speaker. But just so we’re clear—it’ll be a small one. Real tiny.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “You’re a millionaire.”

He gasped. “Sofie is going to make me go broke!”

You both burst into laughter, and then, for a moment, things settled into a comfortable silence.

You stepped forward, wrapping him in a quick, warm hug. “Thanks, Lando. Really.”

He hugged you back with a grin. “You know I’d do anything for her.”

You pulled away and gave him a playful warning point. “No DJ-ing. No fog machines. Just show up, smile, and hand over the balloon arch.”

He gave you a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Back downstairs, Max sat in the car, arm draped lazily over the steering wheel, scrolling on his phone. As you opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, he glanced sideways.

“Did he flirt?” he asked without looking up.

You leaned in and kissed his cheek, smiling. “He was a perfect gentleman. I’m irresistible, but he tried his best.”

Max smirked, tossing his phone into the console and starting the engine. “Good."

“Well,” you said, settling into your seat, “now take me to George and Carmen.”

“That’s stop number two?” he asked, pulling into the road.

“Oh, no, my love. After George and Carmen, I need Oscar. Then we head to Lewis. Then Charles. And by the time we’re done doing this grand prix of birthday planning…”

“We’ll be picking Sofie up from school,” Max finished with a groan.

You reached over and patted his leg. “Welcome to the domestic paddock.”

He just laughed, driving toward the next stop, knowing full well that for Sofie—you both would do this a hundred times over.

The day had been a whirlwind—no, more like a full-blown sprint from one friend to another, and the weight of planning Sofie’s fifth birthday was finally catching up to you.

You and Max had started strong with George and Carmen. They met you at a cozy café tucked away in Monaco’s quieter streets. Over warm pastries and espresso, they eagerly agreed to help coordinate catering—something that would bring together all of Sofie’s favorite comfort foods, from tiny grilled cheese bites to heart-shaped fruit platters and little macarons. Carmen even suggested a vegan dessert option “just in case,” and George promised to talk to someone about outdoor seating near the track.

Next was Oscar. You had warned Max ahead of time to let you lead, knowing Oscar’s naturally quiet demeanor. But surprisingly, he welcomed you both with a calm smile, and once you mentioned activities for a little girl’s birthday party, his entire posture softened. Growing up with sisters gave him a special insight—and Lily, his ever-supportive girlfriend, chimed in over video call with ideas about crafting stations and maybe a bubble machine. You left with a list of surprisingly thoughtful ideas, plus the promise of a gift from both of them.

Then came Lewis.

You met at his sleek apartment, a space that felt like modern art had collided with calm energy. You asked him to host the karting portion of the party—after all, kids looked up to him, and his name carried both weight and warmth. He was honored, of course, but you had one specific request. “Roscoe has to come.”

Lewis laughed, nodding as Max smirked. “I figured that was non-negotiable.”

“Completely,” you grinned. “She doesn’t want to race unless her favorite dog is trackside.”

Roscoe, aging but still regal, was happy to oblige—even if he’d mostly be napping through the event in a shady spot with his tongue out.

Then finally, you headed to Charles and Alex’s place. Their shared home was lively, filled with soft music and the smell of whatever Alex was cooking when you arrived. She was thrilled to help with the goodie bags—already pulling out themed stickers, ribbon, and mini toys. “Leo can’t wait,” she said with a bright smile, referring to their dog that Sofie also loved. Charles, lounging with a sleepy Leo on his lap, looked up. “I’ll get you all the merch we’ve got,” he offered, already pulling out his phone to message someone on the Ferrari team.

And now—at last—you and Max were walking into the final stop: the bakery.

The scent of sugar, vanilla, and warm bread wrapped around you both like a soft blanket. You closed your eyes for a second, inhaling deeply. The display case glittered with cakes like jewels—fondant-covered dreams in every shade and theme.

“Okay…” you said, lacing your fingers through Max’s. Your voice was quieter now, tinged with fatigue. “We know how many guests. We know how many layers we need. And we’re doing an F1 theme. We just need to lock in a flavor.”

Max stepped forward with a kind of quiet confidence that made your heart flutter despite the exhaustion. “I know what she likes,” he said simply.

You watched as he leaned casually on the counter, listing everything out to the baker with a gentle authority. “Five layers. Vanilla and strawberry swirl for the top, chocolate for the base. Middle tiers mix of lemon and white cake. No fondant. Just soft buttercream—Italian Meringue.”

The baker nodded, impressed. “And the design?”

He smiled. “A miniature track on the top. Small racing cars. One with her name on it. And pink accents. Lots of pink.”

You blinked slowly, your heart so full you could barely stand it.

This was Max in his element—not the race suit, not the podium, not the press. But here, in a bakery, ordering a cake for his daughter with the kind of care most people saved for world championships.

When he turned around, he handed you the order receipt with a satisfied little smirk. “Done. We pick it up the morning of the party.”

You scanned the paper briefly, then looked up at him. “Italian Meringue Buttercream?”

He nodded. “Only the best.”

You exhaled a soft laugh and stepped forward, kissing his cheek tenderly. “Thank you. Seriously.”

Max wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in for a moment, his lips brushing your temple. “She’s only five once,” he murmured. “Let’s make it count.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The day had finally wound down after what felt like a whirlwind of movement. Your phone had buzzed nearly non-stop—messages from drivers, friends, family. Each one confirming their part, their presence. You and Max had pulled it off again. Another party, another year, another carefully stitched-together moment of joy for your daughter.

Sofie’s birthday was going to be perfect.

At least… it looked perfect on paper.

Later that afternoon, you both picked her up from school. She clambered into the back seat with a sleepy grin, her voice soft, a little quieter than usual. She talked about her day in fragments—mentioning what she had for lunch, how the sun was too hot on the playground, how her teacher wore funny shoes that squeaked. And then, tucked in between all those little things, she said, “My friends are coming to the party.”

Your heart had lifted at first. You gave her a soft smile in the mirror. “That’s great, baby.”

But something about the way she said it… the way her eyes drifted to the window right after… it stayed with you.

The evening passed gently. Dinner was simple, the lights were warm, and the sea breeze brushed against the Monaco skyline as you helped Sofie settle into bed. She clutched her Ferrari plushie close, the one Max had custom ordered the year she was obsessed with pit stops. She didn’t fight sleep that night. She just turned over and drifted off like a leaf on water.

Her room was dim now, filled with soft pinks and whites, her little books neatly lined on the shelf. In the corner, her toy box sat slightly open, stuffed with a mix of stuffed animals and race cars. And on her nightstand was a framed photo—one of her favorites. Sofie, grinning from ear to ear, with her cheeks slightly smudged from a chocolate snack, standing beside Yuki Tsunoda in the paddock. Yuki had crouched beside her, doing a peace sign, both of them wearing oversized sunglasses. The photo had been taken during last season’s race weekend in Japan, and she had insisted it be framed because, in her words, “Yuki is small like me.”

You smiled at it briefly, then turned to finish cleaning.

It was late now. Max was downstairs, tidying the kitchen while you stayed behind to finish Sofie’s room. You moved quietly, scooping up scattered toys, fluffing pillows, straightening the corners of her blanket.

And then you saw it—her little backpack, tipped halfway off the side of her table.

You reached for it absentmindedly, grabbing the handle to move it to the hook. But the zipper was undone. Papers spilled to the floor like leaves on a windy day.

You crouched down with a soft sigh. “She always forgets to zip it up…” you muttered, shaking your head.

Then you froze.

There, half-tucked into the folder pocket, were the invitations.

Uncreased. Unmarked. Untouched.

Still there.

All of them.

You slowly gathered them, your breath catching. The glitter glue you helped her with still shimmered faintly under the soft glow of the hallway light. Her little handwriting—proud and bouncy—read: “Come to my birthday!!” with hearts drawn around the names of her classmates. But none of them had left her backpack.

Not one had made it into a child’s hand.

Your chest felt hollow as you knelt there, gently placing the invitations back where they had come from. Your fingers lingered over them for a beat too long, heart twisting.

The house was still now. Too still.

You turned off the last light and made your way to the bedroom, your movements slow, like you were carrying the weight of something invisible.

Max was already in bed, scrolling lazily through his phone, waiting for you. When he looked up, the moment his eyes caught yours, his expression changed. He set the phone aside immediately.

“Lieverd…” he said softly, sitting up straighter. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You walked over slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was cleaning her room… and I found the invitations. The ones we helped her make for school.”

He blinked. “She gave them to her friends already, right?”

You shook your head, your throat tightening. “No. They’re still in her bag, Max. Every single one.”

His eyebrows knit together, mouth opening slightly. “What… she must’ve forgotten. Maybe she was nervous about giving them out?”

You just looked at him, the silence answering for you.

And then you said, quietly, “Max… I don’t think she has anyone to give them to.”

He flinched, his features tightening. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m not trying to be cruel,” you replied gently. “But I’ve seen it. When we drop her off… the girls, they don’t even say hi. She sits at that tiny little desk, on her own, while the others group up.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes suddenly stormy. “No. She has friends. She plays with Kimi and Ollie and—”

“She calls them her brothers,” you cut in softly.

“Because she loves them,” he snapped, but the bite in his voice was more self-defense than anything.

“She never asks for sleepovers. She doesn’t talk about birthday parties at school. She only talks about our friends, your friends, and how she wants to be around them. Max…”

You sat on the edge of the bed, your voice shaking now. “I think she’s lonely.”

He stood abruptly, his voice rising—not in anger, but in desperation. “She’s got us. She’s got so much. She’s smart, and she’s bright, and she’s funny as hell, and beautiful, and bilingual, and—”

“I know she is.”

“She’s got your smile and my stubbornness, and she lights up every room she walks into—how can you say no one wants to be her friend?”

You stood too, reaching for his hands, pulling them down to yours.

“I’m not saying that to hurt you. I’m saying it because I saw her face this morning when those girls walked past her without a single word.”

He looked away, his throat visibly tightening. You saw it now—under all the frustration and protest, he was hurting.

Deeply.

Because he had promised himself he would never let her feel the kind of loneliness he knew all too well. The kind he had carried through childhood, behind closed doors and in foreign paddocks. He had vowed to break that cycle.

And yet, here it was, slipping through the cracks.

"Max, at some point, you have to accept that this is happening," you said, your voice quiet but firm, the kind of tone that came from deep worry, the kind only parents knew. The words felt like glass on your tongue, but they needed to be said.

Max stood in front of you, arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight. He shook his head slowly, defiantly. “No,” he said, voice sharp. “Because I won’t let it happen.”

You sighed, your shoulders sagging under the invisible weight you’d both been carrying all day. “Max, she needs friends her age,” you said gently, pleading with your eyes for him to hear you. “Hanging out with ours, yours and mine, it isn’t going to fix what’s going on when she’s not with us. When she’s at school, she’s alone.”

His face hardened, like stone forming under pressure. His voice turned into a low bite, his wall going up like armor. “She has our friends,” he snapped. “And she likes them. And they love her.”

“I know they do, Max,” you said, trying not to raise your voice. “But they’re not her peers.”

You stepped forward, hands reaching out as if to pull his stubborn heart closer, make him see what was breaking yours. “She needs people her age. She can’t go to every race weekend with you forever. She can’t tag along when Lando invites you out for a party, or when Charles hosts another rooftop dinner. She can’t sit next to you while you drink with Daniel or talk strategy with Fernando. That’s not her world.”

He looked away, blinking hard, trying to bite down the emotions climbing his throat. You could see the fight in his jaw, how he flexed his hands to keep from breaking.

“She has the others,” you continued, more gently this time. “Yes, she has Kimi, Isack, Ollie, Liam… but they’re getting older, Max. They’re teenagers now. They’re not always going to want to play board games or sit through cartoon movies. Oscar and Lily won’t always be around to have baking nights. Lando won’t always be free to play dress-up when she asks.”

You paused, swallowing down the rising lump in your throat. “She can’t always trail behind Checo when he’s with his wife and kids. Eventually… everyone has their own life.”

And then you said what neither of you had wanted to admit.

“She’s going to be left behind, Max. She already is.”

That hit something in him. Hard.

Max’s fists clenched at his sides, his breath shaky, his eyes darting around the room like he needed something to hold onto—something solid in a world that was beginning to crack.

“Bullshit…” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “It’s all bullshit.”

But the way his voice cracked near the end—it was the sound of someone trying to run from the very thing that shaped them.

You stepped closer, your hand gently brushing his arm, grounding him. “I know what you’re feeling,” you whispered. “I know. You see yourself in her.”

He said nothing, but his shoulders dropped, and he finally looked at you. Really looked. His eyes were red-rimmed, glistening.

“That feeling…” he said quietly, like it pained him just to give it breath. “When everyone’s laughing and you’re sitting there… pretending you don’t care.”

You nodded.

“I hated it,” he said. “I hated how it made me feel. Like something was wrong with me. Like I was too much or not enough. Always trying to prove myself. Always trying to be liked by doing something. Never just… being.”

Your heart broke a little more hearing it.

“That’s why I gave her everything,” he said, voice shaking. “That’s why I bring her with me. To the races, to the garage, to dinner with the guys. Because there, she’s loved. There, she laughs. There, she’s seen.”

You stepped in front of him, pressing your forehead gently to his. “But we can’t build her whole life around borrowed moments from ours, Max. She needs a world of her own.”

He let out a long, tired breath and finally sank down onto the edge of the bed, like the truth had hit his chest so hard, his legs couldn’t hold him anymore.

“She’s so happy around us,” he said softly. “I thought that was enough.”

“It is,” you said. “But it’s not everything.”

There was silence for a long moment, and then he spoke again, voice barely more than a whisper.

“I don’t want her to think she’s not enough.”

“She never will,” you replied, gently cupping his cheek. “Because she’s got us. And we’ll do whatever we can to help her build something of her own. We’ll talk to her teachers, find other kids with shared interests, maybe even change schools if we have to.”

“She deserves a world,” he whispered. “Not just to live in ours.”

You kissed his temple, your voice soft but filled with quiet power. “Then let’s give her one.”

And in the dim glow of your bedroom, the two of you sat together, not just as husband and wife—but as parents. Not with answers, but with a shared promise.

You would give your daughter the world. And if it didn’t welcome her with open arms, you’d build her a new one.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The days that followed were delicate—fragile, like trying to hold water in your hands and hoping it wouldn’t slip through your fingers. You and Max had made a quiet, mutual promise to show up more, to not just be parents, but pillars. Breakfasts became rituals—stacked pancakes shaped like hearts, fresh fruit slices fanned into rainbows, Sofie tucked between the two of you at the table, chattering away as her sleepy curls bounced with every excited word.

After school, there were quiet hours of play, where she lined up her stuffed animals for a pretend concert and made Max sit cross-legged while she turned into a glittering pop star. You cheered, Max clapped, and for a moment the world outside didn’t exist. But mornings… mornings were the hardest. School had become an obstacle no child should have to face with a brave face and a heavy heart.

So, when Max told you, “Let me take her alone today,” you agreed, though it left you unsettled. Something had shifted in him. You could see it in the way he zipped up her backpack for her, in the way he held her hand as if it were glass, precious and breakable.

At the school, Max walked tall, even in casual clothes, his hand protectively holding Sofie’s as they made their way down the hallway. She clutched her backpack, red sneakers squeaking with every step. He paused outside her classroom door, knelt to her level, brushing her curls behind her ears.

“Hey, you remember what I said?” he asked softly.

She nodded, whispering, “Shoulders back.”

He smiled. “That’s right. Strong like mama, brave like papa.”

She beamed and walked in, waving over her shoulder.

Max stood, his face hardening like steel. His gaze landed on her teacher, who was bent over a desk arranging colored pencils. He walked over, calm but deliberate.

“We need to speak,” he said, voice low but commanding.

The teacher blinked, taken off guard. She stood, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door gently behind her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Max didn’t hesitate. “Yes. A lot is wrong,” he said, eyes fixed and unwavering. “Why have neither my wife nor I been contacted about what’s been going on with Sofie?”

The teacher looked confused at first, then flustered. “I—I wasn’t aware there was a concern—”

“She has no one,” Max interrupted, his tone sharper now. “She tells us every day about her ‘friends,’ but when we watch her, she’s alone. Sitting by herself. The other kids ignore her. That’s not a concern to you?”

She hesitated. “Children go through phases—”

“She is not a phase,” he snapped, stepping slightly closer, lowering his voice but not the fire in it. “We don’t drop her off here every morning so she can be pushed aside. I understand children can be selfish, but isn’t that your job? To help guide them toward compassion? Empathy?”

The teacher said nothing. Her silence was too loud.

Max continued, “This weekend is her birthday. The invitations are in her bag. If I find them still there after school—if they are not handed out to every single child in that classroom—I will make sure this becomes a much bigger issue.”

There was something dangerous in the calm of his threat.

“She is a good kid. Bright, loving, loud, funny. She knows how to say ‘thank you’ in three languages and still thinks a photo of her and Yuki Tsunoda in the paddock is one of the best days of her life,” he said, voice softening for just a moment. “She deserves to be seen.”

From the doorway, Sofie peeked out, grinning. Max turned, and instantly, his features softened into a smile just for her.

He gave her a thumbs up.

She giggled and gave him one back, then blew him a kiss. He caught it with exaggerated flair, pressing it to his heart with both hands.

“I love you!” she called.

“I love you more,” he mouthed back, and then turned to walk away, shoulders square, heart still burning.

The dining room was chaos—in the most loving, sugar-filled, glitter-splattered way possible.

You sat on the floor in a cozy oversized hoodie, surrounded by boxes of checkered flag stickers, racing-themed whistles, mini trophies, and little plastic cars. A roll of pink ribbon dangled from your wrist as you carefully tied it around a goodie bag, cinching it tight.

Alex sat cross-legged across from you, working just as diligently. “This is like… if Formula 1 met Barbie and had a sugar-high child.”

You chuckled. “Exactly the aesthetic I was going for.”

The bags were a hit of adrenaline and sweetness—racing-themed from start to finish, but unmistakably Sofie: pink pit passes, mini tires filled with candy, and even small keychains shaped like helmets. Everything screamed her love for speed, but also her love for softness, for color, for joy.

You reached for a small checklist on your phone, double-checking the gifts. “Helmet keychains, tire gummies, flag stickers, race medals... check, check, check.”

Alex leaned back on her palms, raising a curious brow. “Did Lando ever finish that helmet thing you mentioned?”

Your lips curved into a secretive smile. “Yes. It’s done. Pink and black—just like his, but flipped. Even has her name etched in cursive on the back.”

Alex grinned. “No way. That’s gonna make her lose it.”

“She has no idea,” you said softly, pride and emotion tugging at your voice. “It’s just between me and him for now. We’re giving it to her at the end of the party.”

Alex clutched her heart. “You guys are insane with the details. No wonder she’s the most spoiled little speed demon on Earth.”

“She’s loved,” you corrected, looking over the pile of nearly-finished bags. “Not spoiled.”

Alex nodded, no argument. “And you both make sure of that every day.”

Just then, your phone rang—and the second you saw the contact, your stomach twisted.

You answered fast. “Charles?”

“I’m at the bakery,” he said with a sigh. “They’re claiming they don’t have the cake.”

Your mouth dropped open. “What do you mean they don’t have it? We placed the order days ago!”

“I brought the receipt. Still nothing in the system.”

You stood up, pacing already. “Tell them it’s under Max Verstappen. Look again. I swear, Charles, it was confirmed.”

“I’m telling them. But they’re acting like they’ve never seen the name in their life.”

You didn’t even hesitate—you tapped Max’s contact and dialed him.

He picked up instantly, like he knew it was urgent. “What happened?”

“They’re saying they don’t have the cake,” you said, your voice rising. “Charles is there, but they’re not finding the order. Her cake, Max. Her birthday is tomorrow.”

“I’m on it, mama bear,” he said, calm but tight with frustration.

“This has to be perfect. We’ve never messed up before. We can’t start now. Not on this.”

“I know,” he said firmly. “Trust me. I’ll fix it.”

You hung up with a deep exhale, fingers brushing the pink ribbons on the goodie bags as if they could calm your nerves. Alex handed you a gummy tire.

“Eat this,” she said. “And breathe. You’ve got Verstappen going full throttle into bakery battle. It’ll be fine.”

Across town, the little boutique bakery was filled with the scent of fresh pastry and just a hint of trouble.

Charles stood stiff at the counter, holding the order receipt like it was a legal document. “This order was placed for my niece. A five-layer cake. We submitted it days ago.”

The baker behind the counter shrugged again, like he had all the time in the world. “There’s nothing under Charles Leclerc. Nothing under Verstappen either.”

“Check again,” Charles pressed.

The bell above the door jingled sharply.

Max stepped in like a storm front. No greeting. No smile. Just purpose. He spotted Charles and walked straight up.

“What’s going on?” he asked, jaw clenched.

Charles held up the receipt. “They’re saying they don’t have it.”

The baker sighed. “There’s nothing in our system. We need to re-place the order—”

Max cut him off. “No. You’re not listening.”

He stepped closer to the counter, resting his hands there like he was barely containing himself. His voice was low but charged, like thunder before the lightning.

“This cake isn’t just some random request. It’s five layers. Top tier is vanilla and strawberry swirl. Middle layers are lemon and white cake. Base layer is chocolate. No fondant. Just soft buttercream—Italian meringue.”

The baker blinked.

Max didn’t stop.

“Decoration is a miniature track on the top. With tiny racing cars. One of them has her name on it. There are pink accents everywhere—because she loves pink. And because she asked for this. Specifically this.”

Charles stood a little taller beside him. “You don’t understand—this cake means everything. It’s not just dessert. It’s the centerpiece of the day.”

Max leaned forward. “I just watched my daughter walk into school this morning feeling invisible to every kid in her class. I saw her fake a smile. I saw her look for hope. This cake is part of the joy we’re trying to give back to her. So either you honor the receipt you were given—or you lose a whole lot of business.”

“And reputation,” Charles added. “Because I promise you, if this place is the reason my niece doesn’t get the birthday she deserves, you’ll be hearing about it.”

The baker paled. “I… I’ll talk to the kitchen. We’ll find a way to get it done.”

“Good,” Max said, stepping back. “Because if I come back here and it’s not being worked on—I won’t be calm next time.”

He turned sharply, walking out with Charles behind him. As the door shut, Charles exhaled a breath of admiration. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

Max didn’t answer. His mind was already home again—imagining her smile when she saw that pink-iced track, her little fingers tracing her name on that tiny racing car.

No one was going to ruin that.

Not on his watch.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Later that afternoon, the air was soft and golden, the kind of light that kissed everything it touched and made it feel like the day might end gently after all the chaos.

You and Max stood hand in hand outside the school gates, the breeze tugging lightly at your jacket, fingers locked tightly together. You spotted Sofie before she saw you—her little frame bouncing down the school steps with her backpack bouncing right along behind her, hair slightly tousled, cheeks pink from the warm afternoon sun. There was always a piece of your heart that healed just by seeing her.

She noticed you both and her steps quickened, her face lighting up like she hadn’t just seen you this morning. “Mama! Papa!”

“Hey, honeybee,” you smiled, crouching down with open arms as she ran into them, hugging you tight before shifting into Max’s legs.

Max bent slightly, smoothing her hair back. “Let me see your bag, baby.”

Sofie tilted her head, curious. “Why?”

Max gave a light grin. “Just wanna check something.”

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly slipped the straps off her shoulders and passed the bag to him. You leaned in, watching as he unzipped it carefully.

Together, you both sifted through the pockets—crumbled drawings, a rogue crayon, an empty juice box—and then, surprisingly, no envelopes. No stack of pink-and-checkered birthday invites. Your brows lifted.

“You gave them to your class?” you asked, your voice light, though your heart was thudding.

She nodded quickly, her excitement peeking through. “Yup! I passed them out after snack time!”

Then, a beat passed. Her expression changed—her eyes dropped slightly, a small frown tugging at her lips.

“I don’t know if they’ll come though…” she mumbled, her voice small. The uncertainty in her tone pierced right through you.

You glanced up at Max, your heart twisting. He met your eyes, reading your worry instantly. He gave the smallest shrug and then—like clockwork—he stepped in.

“If they don’t,” Max said gently, crouching to her level, “then they’re gonna miss out on the coolest birthday party ever.”

Sofie blinked at him, surprised.

“I mean—think about it,” he said, lifting an eyebrow, “they won’t get to eat that yummy cake we’ve got coming, they won’t get to hang out with your uncles—especially the ones who are basically kids themselves,” he winked.

She started to giggle.

“They won’t get to see Roscoe and Leo in their party bow ties. And they definitely won’t get to meet your best friend Jack.”

Her smile bloomed.

“And worst of all…” Max leaned closer, pretending to whisper, “they’ll miss me. Which is, let’s be honest, tragic.”

That did it. She giggled so hard she snorted a little, covering her mouth with both hands as her eyes crinkled.

You mouthed a silent thank you over her head to Max, overwhelmed by his constant ease, his unwavering ability to smooth the cracks before they spread.

He hummed in reply, then in one effortless move, wrapped his arms around her and scooped her up. She shrieked with laughter and clung to him, resting her head on his shoulder like it was her favorite pillow.

“We’re gonna eat at your favorite place tonight,” Max told her, kissing the side of her forehead. “And tomorrow—we party, okay?”

She nodded eagerly, confidence back in her voice. “Let’s go!”

As you all walked to the car together, you felt the weight in your chest loosen. The tension that had knotted in your stomach since that morning, the uncertainty about the cake, the kids, the timing—it all felt manageable again. Because Max had a way of doing that.

Now that you really thought about it, he always did. From the first time Sofie’s favorite toy broke and he spent an hour at the kitchen table with glue and toothpicks, to the time her markers dried out and he ran to the store before she even noticed. On nights when you were half-asleep in her bed from a nightmare, Max would carry her to yours and let her nestle in between you, then pull the blankets up gently around both his girls.

He had a habit of being exactly what the moment needed. Not flashy. Not dramatic. Just there. Steady. Reliable. Yours.

The car ride was quiet, the soft hum of tires on the road blending with the calm buzz of the early evening. Sofie sat in her car seat behind you, half-singing a little made-up tune as she watched the world go by from the window. You reached over and let your hand rest on Max’s thigh, giving it a small squeeze. He gave your hand a soft pat, his thumb running along your fingers as he drove.

And then, from the backseat, her small voice piped up again.

“Can we get dinner and… watch the water?”

You and Max exchanged a look, a bit confused by the request.

“Watch the water?” you asked.

“Yeah…” she said dreamily. “Like near the boats. Where the ducks were last time.”

You smiled. “You mean the pier?”

She nodded.

Max glanced in the rearview mirror. “Sure,” he said with a shrug, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Dinner and a view. That’s what the birthday girl wants.”

You turned slightly in your seat. “We can grab your favorite—what do you say? Pasta?”

“With garlic bread,” she added firmly.

“Deal.”

A beat passed.

“Is Yuki coming to my party?” she asked, almost shyly.

You laughed softly, the tension fully melted now. “Of course he is. He wouldn’t miss it for the world. You’re basically his favorite little human.”

She grinned.

You could already picture it: Yuki showing up with a gift too big to carry properly, Roscoe and Leo dressed in tiny party bow ties, Jack sprinting around with a balloon sword, and Sofie at the center of it all—smiling, glowing, loved.

And right now, in this quiet little moment in the car, with Max’s hand resting on your knee and Sofie humming softly behind you, you realized something:

This was it. The life you built. The family you fought for. The love that Max held together so effortlessly—even when things felt like they might fall apart.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The golden morning sun poured through the large kitchen windows, casting a soft glow on the breakfast table where laughter mingled with the smell of pancakes and strawberries. The air carried that familiar excitement that only came once a year—Sofie’s birthday. She was officially five now. A whole hand. Your heart ached and swelled all at once. Where had the time gone?

You smoothed out your white embroidered maxi dress as you moved about the kitchen, the delicate eyelet hem brushing your ankles with every graceful step. The shirred bodice clung softly to your figure while the thin straps sat lightly on your sun-kissed shoulders. You looked down at Sofie—your little sunshine—who was happily munching on a strawberry, her cream cherry-print jumpsuit just as sweet as she was. Her long blonde hair was still a bit tousled from sleep, but her eyes sparkled with anticipation.

Max leaned casually against the counter, dressed in a ribbed beige knit shirt that hugged his frame just right, paired with light tan trousers and his usual quiet confidence. His watch caught the light as he reached for his coffee, his eyes settling on Sofie with a gentle smile.

The kitchen was buzzing with quiet chatter. Kimi, Ollie, Isack, and Liam had joined the breakfast table, each of them clearly still waking up but making the effort. “I’m thankful you all came all the way from England to Monaco for this,” you said, your tone genuine.

Liam waved you off with a smile. “It’s nothing. I wasn’t going to miss her birthday for the world.”

Max nodded in agreement. “Now that you’re all here, it really means a lot.”

Kimi carefully sliced a strawberry and placed it on Sofie’s plate. “So the party’s at the karting track?” he asked, looking to you and Max for confirmation.

Max chuckled, nodding. “Her pick. She’s officially done with princess parties.”

“She still likes pink, but she’s moved past princess wonderland,” you added with a fond grin, watching as Ollie made goofy faces at Sofie. She giggled, her little shoulders bouncing, the cherry print on her jumpsuit dancing along.

Max shook his head, amused. “Of course those two are having a competition before 10 a.m.”

There was something magical about that moment. The world felt still and warm, full of light and laughter. Sofie’s excitement was bubbling over, yet grounded by the comfort of having everyone she loved under one roof.

Your phone buzzed, and you excused yourself from the table, stepping just outside the kitchen into the sun-drenched hallway. “Hello?” you answered.

“Bonjour, we have the cake here, the party is all set!” Charles' voice rang with energy. “And believe it or not, some little guests are already here, waiting on the birthday girl. But don’t worry—I haven’t let them touch a thing. Now hurry up and get my niece here!”

You laughed. “I’m bringing her, Leclerc. Don’t get bossy. She has Verstappen blood running in her veins.”

Charles laughed back. “As long as she’s living in Monaco, she’s a Leclerc. Now bring her!”

You shook your head, smiling, and hung up. Stepping back into the kitchen, you clapped your hands to gather everyone's attention. “Alright! Finish up your breakfasts, we’ve got a party to attend.”

Everyone began to rise, but you raised a hand. “Hold on—sunscreen. All of you. It’s bright out today, and I want Sofie, Kimi, Ollie, Isack, and Liam protected.”

Max raised a brow, amused. “They can do it themselves.”

You arched a brow right back. “You’re putting sunscreen on too. I don’t care if you think you're invincible.”

He smirked, grabbing the bottle off the counter. “Yes, ma’am.”

They had gotten sunscreen on just the way you’d instructed—foreheads, cheeks, even behind the ears. You had given each of them a motherly once-over, especially Sofie, ensuring her delicate skin was fully protected from the summer Monaco sun.

Sofie was already bubbling with excitement, bouncing slightly on her toes until Isack crouched in front of her with a grin. “Hop on, birthday girl.” She squealed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, her laughter ringing out like windchimes in the breeze. Her curls spilled over his shoulder as he stood up, carrying her out the front door like the most precious cargo.

The others followed behind them—Ollie carrying his water bottle and party hat, Liam holding two gift bags, and Max trailing steadily behind them all with the black duffel slung over his shoulder. The bag held Sofie’s custom racing suit, one she had insisted on wearing for her "big girl kart race." Max’s steps were slow, steady, his eyes lingering on his daughter—radiant, joyful, entirely in her element.

You followed last, gently closing the front door behind you and twisting the key until the lock clicked. The moment you turned, Max was waiting, already a few paces ahead. You jogged a little to catch up, your dress swaying around your ankles, the embroidery catching the sunlight in soft reflections.

“You know,” you said, nudging Max gently with your shoulder as the two of you walked in unhurried step behind the rest, “Charles said she already has friends there. Like, real friends.”

Max didn’t respond right away, but you saw the tension drop from his shoulders like a weight shrugged off. His jaw softened, and he looked ahead where Sofie sat proudly on Isack’s back, talking animatedly with Ollie.

“That’s good,” he finally said, voice low and thoughtful.

You could hear the silent hope underneath that one word. Good. That she wouldn’t feel like some odd little girl being pitied by the children of her father’s fame. That maybe, just maybe, she was making connections of her own. That today’s party might be more than just a grand gesture—it might be the start of something more permanent, more normal. Friends who stuck around because they liked her, not because of who her dad was. Max didn’t say all that, but he didn’t have to. You felt it.

Up ahead, Kimi veered off to his own car. He gave Max a quick thumbs-up. “Picking up Maggie and Eli, see you at the track,” he called.

Liam did the same, calling out that he and his girlfriend would follow shortly behind.

You and Max moved toward your car as Ollie opened the backseat door, holding it open for Sofie as Isack gently lowered her in. Her little fingers fidgeted with the seatbelt, and Ollie helped her click it into place, all while she chattered away about the “super secret handshake” she and some girl named Lila had made at school.

Isack laughed and nodded along, and soon he and Ollie were caught up in a very serious discussion with Sofie about which kart color was the fastest. The backseat became its own little world of theories and giggles, a bubble of youthful imagination.

You slid into the passenger seat, smoothing your dress beneath you as Max got in and started the car. He glanced at you, eyes crinkling with something soft and unreadable—comfort, maybe, or gratitude, or the peace that came from knowing she was happy.

You rested your elbow on the door, turning your head slightly to watch him as he drove. The road to the track wound through the city in smooth curves, palm trees casting shadows on white stone and flashes of the marina glittering like a promise.

The day had only just begun, but already, it felt perfect.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Toto had come through brilliantly. The track venue was booked out entirely for Sofie’s birthday, giving the kids space to race in short karting rounds while a roped-off, grassy courtyard near the paddock had been turned into party central.

The party was alive with laughter, bright colors, and the unfiltered joy that only a child's birthday could bring. The yard was transformed into a wonderland of streamers and balloons, bubbles dancing through the air, floating like tiny glistening orbs in the warm sunlight. Music spilled from the speakers, a playful soundtrack to the chaos that unfolded across the lawn.

The water guns, of course, hadn’t remained in the hands of just the little ones for long. Kimi had started it—grabbing one of the bigger water blasters with a mischievous smirk—before Isack, Liam, and Ollie joined in, practically reliving their own childhoods. Franco and Yuki weren’t far behind either. Soon it was a full-on battle between the “older kids,” the laughter from their side of the yard mixing in seamlessly with the younger ones.

You stood beside Max under the shaded canopy, sipping a glass of lemonade as the chaos unfolded in front of you. His arm brushed against yours, and though neither of you spoke right away, there was something comforting about the shared silence. Just watching.

Leo ran in gleeful circles with the kids, his small golden tail wagging wildly, letting the children hug him between runs. Meanwhile, Roscoe lay peacefully on a soft blanket in the corner of the yard, basking in the shade and soaking up all the love and gentle pets he was receiving. He only opened one eye every so often, as if supervising the activity like an old man watching his grandkids play.

“I didn’t expect her whole class to show,” you murmured, eyebrows raised in disbelief as you counted more and more familiar faces from Sofie’s school. “What did you do?”

Max shrugged with a feigned innocence that you didn’t believe for a second. “Put a little fear into the teachers,” he said casually, smirking. “And the baker. That’s how her cake got done in record time.”

You smacked his arm with a laugh, earning a grin from him. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” he said, not ashamed in the slightest. “She deserved it.”

Nearby, Lando was staring at Sofie, clearly moved. “She’s gotten so big. Goodness, I remember holding her when she was still wrapped up in that yellow baby blanket.”

Oscar raised a brow. “Are you crying?”

“What? No!” Lando huffed, wiping under his eyes a little too quickly.

Everyone chuckled, including Fernando, who sighed dramatically. “I feel too old being here.”

You pointed at him with your drink. “You were just running around with a water gun two minutes ago.”

He shrugged, unbothered. “True. But my back’s gonna feel it tomorrow.”

As the sun dipped lower, the golden hour wrapped the yard in a warm glow. Everyone gathered around for food—sandwiches, pasta salad, pizza, grilled veggies, tiny sliders. Sofie, with her plate full, sneakily dropped little bites of chicken and fries near Roscoe and Leo.

Charles caught her in the act but only chuckled. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.”

“Me too,” Lewis added with a shrug. “She is the birthday girl after all.”

After the food, it was time for the cake, it stole the show, the attention of those gathered, but it was beautiful, and you were thankful Max managed to get it on time.

Everyone gathered around, singing loud and out of tune, clapping and cheering as Max carefully removed the candle for her.

She took a deep breath and blew out the flame, her eyes sparkling as you clapped and kissed the top of her head. You cut the cake into slices as fast as you could, Daniel ruffling Sofie’s hair as he handed out plates. “Happy birthday, munchkin.”

She giggled, holding her plate with both hands, eyes wide at the sweet treat.

The cake was a hit, no one would be able to forget about it and you were glad to see the smile upon Sofie's face as she sat on Max's lap, eating away at her cake slice.

Adults and kids alike devoured their slices. Afterward came dancing, bracelet making with Oscar and Lily, and even makeup and nails with Eli under the craft tent. Sofie got a glitter heart on her cheek and her nails painted sparkly purple.

Then came the moment of chaos: gift opening.

Alex stepped forward, dramatically holding up her phone to record. “Our gift first, please!”

Sofie tore through the pink wrapping with careful excitement, revealing a soft white jewelry box. Inside was a delicate gold necklace with a heart-shaped diamond pendant. She gasped, her fingers trembling as she touched it.

Your eyes widened. “A necklace? Charles, Alex... it’s beautiful.”

Max let out a low whistle. “That looks real…”

“It is,” Charles confirmed with a proud grin.

Max's jaw dropped slightly. “She’s five! She doesn’t need a real diamond necklace!”

“She’s a princess,” Alex teased. “Princesses wear diamonds.”

Oscar and Lily's gift came next, and it had Sofie hugging the box before she even opened it. Inside was a beaded bracelet with a tiny photo charm—it showed her grinning between Lily and Oscar at the kart track.

“A bracelet?! Mama! Papa! Look! It’s me and Lily and Oscar!” she exclaimed, showing you both.

Max laughed and leaned over. “You two are spoiling her so much, I’m afraid I’ll be buying her necklaces and bracelets worth half my salary by next year.”

Oscar clapped him on the back. “Welcome to parenthood.”

When Yuki’s gift came, Sofie squealed louder than before. It was her very own custom Red Bull race suit, complete with patches and her name embroidered on the chest.

“Now I’m like Papa!” she said proudly, twirling in it.

You clasped your hands together. “You look beautiful, baby.”

She ran over and hugged Yuki’s leg tightly. “Thank you!”

“You can race for us now!” he joked, beaming.

Lewis gifted her a pinky ring, small and elegant, with a tiny pink gemstone. You had reservations about it—another real piece of jewelry?—but the way Sofie’s eyes sparkled as she slipped it on melted your concern.

Kimi and Eli gifted her a child-safe makeup set, which nearly made Max groan audibly. Still, he bit his tongue and gave a tight smile as Sofie squealed in delight, already planning to give him a “makeover.”

Isack, Ollie, and Liam came through with plushies—an entire family of them. Unicorns, kittens, a racing-themed bear. You immediately knew you’d be picking them up off the floor for the next six months, but it was worth it to see her grin.

More gifts poured in: F1 merch, books, puzzles, glittery clothes, light-up shoes. She was spoiled, there was no denying it—but she was also so deeply loved. And as you watched her eyes shine with each new surprise, her cheeks sore from smiling, her voice getting hoarse from all the excitement, you realized that Max was right earlier.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The time had come — the part Sofie had been anticipating all day.

The sun had dipped just low enough to cast long golden shadows across the track, a soft breeze sweeping through the area as the children gathered at the starting line. The smell of rubber, faint gasoline, and birthday cupcakes still lingered in the air, blending oddly well with the thrill of what was about to unfold. Helmets were secured, tiny gloves pulled tight, and nerves buzzed just under the surface — not just from the kids, but the adults too.

You stood on the sidelines beside Susie, arms crossed gently over your chest, your heart thudding in rhythm with the distant hum of engines. Max was pacing lightly a few feet ahead, hands cupped around his mouth, shouting across the track.

“Go, Sofie! Full throttle! Brake late!” he bellowed proudly.

You nudged Susie with your elbow, shaking your head with a smile. “Think he might out-cheer Toto.”

She laughed, brushing her hair out of her face as a gust of wind picked up. “Possibly so. But I’m pretty sure Toto never did cartwheels after a heat win.”

You both watched as the kids took off — the little karts buzzing, weaving clumsily yet determinedly around the first corner. Sofie was near the front, her pink helmet gleaming under the floodlights now starting to flicker on around the track. She gripped the wheel with a seriousness far beyond her years, eyes focused, lips pursed in pure concentration.

Everyone was recording — phones up, laughter echoing, cheers rising. And in that moment, the world slowed. Nothing mattered except the look on her face, the joy, the pure bliss of being alive, celebrated, and fully seen.

When she took the final corner wide and pushed ahead to cross the line first, Max erupted in loud claps, pumping his fist in the air as if she’d just won the Monaco Grand Prix.

“That’s my girl!” he shouted, beaming.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. The handmade trophies you and Max had ordered sparkled on a nearby table, waiting — not as symbols of competition, but as reminders of effort and joy. You had both agreed early on: this day wasn’t about placing first. But watching Sofie throw her arms up in victory — it was clear she had her father’s fire. And Max? Well, he looked like he’d just won father of the year.

The kids were ushered into a loose line for photos. Pictures, hugs, and videos followed, tiny hands gripping their miniature trophies while smiles stretched across frosting-stained faces. Sofie held hers like it was gold.

As twilight deepened and the air cooled, the buzz began to mellow. Guests started gathering their things, parents thanked you for the invitation and complimented the party. Kids gave Sofie tight hugs, one by one, and you could see how it warmed her. She wasn’t just loved by family — she had friends. Real friends. Watching her bounce from child to child, exchanging giggles and promises of playdates, made something swell in your chest.

You caught a glance at Max, who had gone quiet beside you, his eyes misty. He blinked quickly and coughed. “She’s growing up,” he said softly, not quite to you, not quite to himself. “Too fast.”

You placed your hand on his arm. “I know.”

As the final few families drifted out into the night, the stars now beginning to peek overhead, Lando stepped forward, holding a box tucked under his arm. He crouched down to Sofie’s level, his smile soft. “For you, kiddo.”

You stilled, heart tugging, already knowing what it was. You watched as Sofie’s eyes went wide, her little hands tearing through the wrapping with excitement bubbling over.

The moment she uncovered it — a custom black-and-pink helmet, her size, with a glimmering finish — she gasped.

Her hands trembled slightly as she turned it in her lap, then looked up. “It’s like yours... but for me!”

It was true. She’d always been obsessed with his helmet design — not because of branding or sponsorships, but simply because to her, it looked like something out of a dream. You could see her trying to hold back the tears that came anyway.

She launched forward, wrapping her arms around Lando tightly. He chuckled as he hugged her back.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said into her hair.

“She loves it,” you whispered, placing a hand over your chest.

Max smiled, watching the two of them. It was more than just a helmet. It was a memory — a gift she’d never forget.

Lando stood, ruffled her hair, and with one last “Happy Birthday” and a warm smile your way, he headed toward his car, disappearing into the night.

You and Max lingered in the quiet afterglow. The lights around the track were being turned off one by one, the venue slowly emptying. Sofie held her helmet tight, nearly dozing off as she clung to her final gift of the night.

There was nothing left to do now — no more cupcakes to serve, no more goodie bags to pass out. It had been everything you hoped for. Maybe more.

Later, the soft hum of cartoons filled the Verstappen living room, the glow of the TV flickering gently across the walls. You sat curled on the couch, Sofie curled up against your side, her head on your chest. She had fallen asleep almost instantly once the adrenaline wore off, helmet tucked nearby like a teddy bear.

Her trophy was carefully placed in a case by Max in silent joy before deciding to check up on you two.

You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep, too, until Max came in, stepping quietly around the couch. He paused, smiling at the two of you.

He reached down, pulling a soft throw blanket from the armrest and draped it over your legs and shoulders. He leaned in, kissing Sofie’s temple first, then yours.

Today had been good. Better than good. It had been magic.

He crouched a little, careful not to wake you, and held up his hand. Slowly, he gave your limp, sleeping hand a quiet high five, chuckling to himself.

“We really did it,” he whispered, voice low. “I did it. And I’ll make sure every birthday for her turns out just as well. Always.”

He stood for a moment, just watching you both — his whole world curled together on that couch — and let himself breathe.

Because this? This was what everything was for.

[byersandhighers]

I was thinking it would be funny if during one of those hear me out cake videos a group of dudes pranked their homie and every single person put for every single hear me out, the dudes dad and now I can’t stop thinking about it as the party

All: this is our hear me out cake

Lucas: hear me out *puts a picture of Sheila the Thief from the dungeons and dragons 80s cartoon*

Will: hear me out *puts a picture of Lucas’s dad*

Lucas: is that my dad??

Will: *shrugs*

Mike: Hear me out *puts a different picture of Lucas’s dad*

Lucas: what the hell guys

El: hear me out *puts a third picture of Lucas’s dad*

Lucas: what is wrong with you! Did you take that picture from my house?

Dustin: hear me out *places a fourth picture of Lucas’s dad*

Lucas: everyone stop putting my dad! *Sees it’s Max’s turn next* max, max I swear to god if you put my father, we are breaking up, I will never forgive you

Max: Lucas don’t be weird, I’m not going to put your dad

Max: *sticks a picture of Lucas’s mom on the cake*

[countingstars-17]

he just likes cats 🥺🐈

[nctrlips]

"piastri, can u tell charles—" "max told me to tell—" "speak up i cant hear you" "MAX TOLD ME TO TELL YOU—"

credits

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Theo's First Race

Having a child changes Max in a way he never could have predicted.

warnings: none, this is 100% self indulgent fluff. Pairing: max verstappen x podcaster!reader word count: 3.1k words

yourusername posted

459,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, jennythenanny, and others yourusername texas will always hold a special place in my heart. last year, we learned i was pregnant for the fourth time with what we hoped was our miracle baby. this year we get to bring that miracle baby to the track with us for the very first time. my entire heart is so full watching this all come full circle. i cannot wait to show theo how amazing his daddy is when he gets in that car. maxverstappen1 my two favorite people here this weekend. i can already tell this is going to a good race <3 user0198 i cannot handle the amount of dad max content we get. user111 max carrying Theo kangaroo style in a baby carrier??? sobbing rn >>>user0019 SERIOUSLY jennythenanny ah! so excited to be with you guys this weekend!!! >>>yourusername theo is so excited to be back with his bestie! >>>jennythenanny eeeee! cannot wait! >>>user020 why is this the cutest exchange i've ever read

“Maybe we should leave Theo here with Jenny today instead? Max says, concern settling into the corners of his eyes. 

You look over at him, eyebrow raised, from your seat on the floor of the hotel suite. In front of you, five month old Theo is on his tummy staring up at you with his signature gummy little grin. The three of you were in Texas for the US GP, which was supposed to be Theo’s first time in the paddock but apparently, your husband was having second thoughts. 

“What? Why?” You ask, confused. 

Max had checked the weather (multiple times) this morning and had declared that it wasn’t going to be too hot for Theo to be out and about. The sun was out and there was a gentle breeze whispering through the trees outside your hotel room. Max was leading the championship for the first time this season and he was starting on pole. COTA was historically a really good track for him and you were confident in his chances at winning. Plus, COTA meant a lot to you. It was right here in this very hotel that you had found out you were pregnant with the little elf that was babbling up at you right now. 

Max wrings his hands together, casting a worried glance down at his two favorite people in the world. With how dramatic Theo had come into the world so early, Max had found himself being a little extra protective over him. And you for that matter. He had refused to hear any talk about bringing Theo to the track before this weekend and after seeing all of the crowds at the track yesterday for the practice and sprint qualifying, he was having second thoughts 

“There were just so many people and I don’t want him to get lost.” 

You chuckle before reaching forward to take Theo in your arms. Standing up, you cross the room to where Max stands and hand him his son. Max instinctively reaches out, cuddling Theo to his chest. Watching Max become a dad over the last five and a half months had been one of the most rewarding things you’d ever been privileged to witness. He had slipped into the dad role so effortlessly it had surprised Max, probably due to his own childhood and difficult past with his father. You weren’t surprised though. You had known the moment that Theo was born that Max had been born to be a father. It really was that simple. 

“Baby, he can’t walk. He won’t get lost, I promise he’ll never be out of his sling for more than five minutes.”

“No one holds him other than you and Jenny?” 

You blow out a breath, unsurprised at how he’s gone into papa bear mode. You had seen it on his face yesterday during sprint qualifying. He had surveyed the paddock crowds with a deeper than usual frown on his face, making comments whenever he heard an errant cough or someone clear their throat. ‘Cesspool of germs’ was a phrase he used more than once, now that you thought you it. 

“Yes, my love. He will stay in the sling with me and Jenny no matter what. I have his ear defenders here too and we’ll keep to hospitality. But I know he’d love to see where daddy works. You know how much the sound of those engines sooth him.” 

Max pokes a finger into Theo’s chubby cheek, cooing nonsense at him as Theo giggles back. His mind flickered back to one particularly hard night right after you had brought him home from the hospital during the summer break. Theo had been a bit of a colicky baby back then and the hours between 1 and 3 am were often the worst. He would scream and cry for hours, unable to be soothed back to sleep despite all of his needs being met. This night, in particular, was difficult and you had been on hour four of trying to get him to settle. In a desperate attempt to try something, anything that might work, Max had turned on an old race, but just the ambient sounds of one of his wins from YouTube, without any commentators voices. The sounds of the engines revving had instantly calmed Theo down. 

Both you and Max had stood there in your apartment, lights dark with the exception of the glow emanating from the tv in front of you, as Theo had stared unblinkingly at the television, tears still puddled in his little neck folds, but totally quiet and enthralled. 

Max’s eyes dart over to yours and you smile, reaching out a hand to touch his elbow. “I know you’re nervous, baby but Theo will be fine. He’s going to have so much fun, and I know once you get to the paddock with him in your arms, you will too.” 

He sighs, knowing that you’re right. You usually are when it comes to matters involving Theo. “Okay, but first person to cough on him gets banned from the paddock.” 

The Miami sprint race had been your first race all those years ago when Max had swept you off your feet that very first weekend he flew you to him so it seemed fitting that Theo’s first trip to a race was also a sprint race weekend. Max parked the sensible but giant Ford Explorer that he had insisted on driving this weekend in his designated spot before hopping out, telling you not to move. 

You giggle to yourself, amused that even after all this time, Max still insisted that you never touched a door handle while he was with you. Even on hectic days like these, you and Theo were always in the front of his mind. 

When Max opens your door, his hand immediately finds yours as he helps you out of the tall car. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” He asks, dropping a kiss onto your forehead before moving to the back seat to get Theo from his carseat. 

“I’m so excited to be back, it feels like it’s been forever.” 

Which was true. After Theo had been born, he had needed to stay in the NICU for quite a while. Max had nearly missed the race in Spain the weekend after Monaco because he had refused to leave your side. In the end, it had been Daniel that had convinced him that missing Spain would be detrimental to his championship hopes. Max trusted Daniel with his life and knew that his friend, someone who he knew had a good head on his shoulders, wouldn’t give him bad advice. He knew what missing a race would mean to everyone on the team and back at the factory. 

He had won the race with a 15 second lead. 

Your credentials hang heavy around your neck as you pull the diaper bag out of the back of the car, Theo already nestled securely in Max’s arms. It always made you chuckle, the way Max always seemed to have Theo. You swore whenever he was around, that baby never touched the floor or his crib. 

The pressure in your chest squeezes as you watch Max tote his little boy towards the paddock entrance. Both you and Max had made a conscious decision to keep Theo’s face out of your social media, with the exception of very carefully curated images that you and Max tightly controlled so this was the first time Theo would be photographed by anyone but you and Max. You knew the fans, both yours and Max’s, wanted to see Theo and you hoped that bringing him into the paddock despite him being so young was well received and a positive experience. 

“Max! Who’ve you got there?” A photographer yells the moment Max scans his badge at the paddock entrance. Several photographers are standing by the gates, waiting on the driver arrivals. Max is dressed in his team kit, of course, and you’ve got your traditional navy blue on, today in the form of a loose maxi dress that would allow you to maneuver while caring for Theo during the race. Even Theo had a Red Bull onesie on with gray shorts pulled on over his chubby little legs. 

“The best team mascot in the paddock.” Max jokes, a smile crinkling at the corner of his eyes as he pauses to show off a now giggling Theo. 

Your heart catches in your chest when you see the look of pure happiness on your husband’s face. There were few things that brought out a smile that bright on Max and the fact that him showing off your baby to the world was one of those things had your heart hammering in your chest. You watched as Max showed Theo off to several of the photographers and Red Bull staff members, seemingly forgetting all about his hesitations from earlier. Theo loved it too, the sights and smells and sounds were so much for him to take in and he was so content to be in his daddy’s arms just taking it all in. 

“Mon petit lion!” A voice rings out as the three of you walk towards Red Bull’s garage. You grin, watching as Charles fusses over Max refusing to give up custody of Theo but eventually relents. “Give me my godson, you heartless man. Keeping the poor little man away from the track for five months! Horrific!” 

“He’s a literal infant, Charles.” Max argues, a full on pout popping out of his full bottom lip. You suddenly have to quell the urge to bite it, he looks so handsome. 

“Your gorgeous wife told me how much he loves the sound of my Ferrari.” Charles argues back, bouncing Theo up and down, eliciting a peal of giggles tumbling from your baby’s lips. 

Max shoots you a glare that has ‘you’re a traitor’ written all over it. All you do is reach up on your toes to peck him on those full lips of his, completely ignoring the annoyed look he still regards you with. 

“It was the sound of my Red Bull that calmed him the first time.” 

“Keep telling yourself that, Max.” Charles chuckles before handing Theo back to you, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m so glad you two are here, the paddock ins’t the same without you.”  

“Thank you Charles.” You say, cuddling Theo into your shoulder just a little tighter. 

As the three of you continue on, your final destination being the garage so Max can check on the car, your pace is just a bit quicker than Max’s. He watches you for just a moment, the way Theo’s chubby arms wrap tightly around your neck as he takes in the buzzing activity of the paddock. His heart squeezes fiercely at the way your hips sway back and forth as you carry his baby on your hip. This was how it was always meant to be: his wife and his child at his side while he worked. He had always pictured this day in a way that always seemed like it would come sometime in the future. That was the strange thing about how life progressed. Suddenly, some day is here and you’re watching your wife cuddle your miracle baby. When Max thinks of that afternoon in London all those years ago when he made his way into the recording studio to be on some silly little podcast, he had no idea that this was where that interview would lead but here he was, every single one of the fantasies he had dared to hope for right in front of him. 

You turn back to Max, sensing that he’s fallen quite a bit behind. The look of awe on your husbands face as he watches you has your heart aching. You knew that the past few months had been hard on Max. He hated being away from you, had even tried to float the idea of retiring mid-season. You had flatly refused, saying that everyone in the factory and the garage was counting on him and eventually, he had agreed. But you knew being here was a balm to his lonely heart and you were wildly happy that Theo was finally old enough to accompany Max on this triple header. 

But looking at the way his eyes shined with unshed tears as he stands stock still in the middle of the paddock, just staring after what you know is his entire world, you feel something lock into place. Something that you’re going to have to discuss with him later tonight. 

“Come on, Maxie.” You call as you hoist Theo up higher on your hip. “You’ve got a meeting with Horner and I don’t want him yelling at me because you’re late.” 

Max seems to snap out of the trance he’s in then and chuckles. “Christian is terrified of you, liefje. He’d never yell.” 

You shrug, “I suppose you’re right.” 

Max slips his fingers into yours before giving them a squeeze. “Come on, let’s introduce the little lion to the garage.” 

Max wins the sprint that day, just like the first sprint you watched him win all those years ago. The nostalgia you felt watching him pull up into that first parc ferme spot had something twisting deep in your stomach. It was so satisfying watching Max do what he loved while you held his little boy in your arms. 

It was a whirlwind of media after his win and then he was swept off for race debrief before qualifying for the Grand Prix the next day. By the time Theo’s bedtime rolled around, Max was still busy in engineering meetings. You sent him a quick text telling him you were taking Theo back to the hotel to put him down. Max had wanted to tell you to wait, he’d be right there, but he had known this wasn’t true. He knew that it was going to take several more hours to wrap up all his duties on the track so he reluctantly agreed. 

This was the part of racing he hated. The late nights, the long flights to every corner of the world except to where it mattered most, the danger that lurked on the track. He hated being away from you, had always hated being away from you. Despite his reservations about you quitting your job all before you had gotten pregnant with Theo, he was glad that you had spent those few years traveling with him. It wasn’t about the fact that you ‘followed him around’ like some publications liked to taunt. It was the fact that Max was able to do what he loved while providing for his family and keep you close at the same time. 

But things had shifted when Theo had been born and his priorities had changed. Having you at the track wasn’t an option anymore, not with how little Theo was. And even now, at 5 months old, he knew that this wasn’t sustainable. The options of what to do after this season all played in his head as he got into the car late that night to head back to the hotel. He knew he had a big decision to make, one that had been many years coming. 

It’s dark by the time Max fishes the keycard to the hotel room out of his back pocket. You have a two bedroom suite booked this weekend so he’s not worried about waking Theo, although he still holds out a little hope that he might be awake. It’s been hours since Max has seen him and the only thing worse than being away from you for an extended period of time is being away from both of you. 

The door whispers open and Max spots you laying down on the couch, staring blankly at the tv in front of you. On the coffee table sits the baby monitor and a bottle of wine. 

When you hear the door snick closed, you pick your head up, blinking sleepily towards the door. “You’re home.” You whisper, sitting up so Max can join you on the couch. 

He immediately pulls you into his lap, nuzzling deep into your neck. “I’m home.” He breathes, letting your perfume settle over his senses like a warm, familiar blanket. 

“I’m so proud of you. Sprint win and P3 for tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, schatje. How was your night? How’s the baby?” 

You hum softly, your lips finding Max’s in the dark. They’re warm and inviting and everything that sets your soul on fire. You’re fairly certain that you’ll still feel this way when you’re 90 years old kissing Max late at night. “He’s good. Just finished his last bottle of the night, went down like a champ.” 

“That’s my boy. I’m sorry I missed bedtime tonight.” 

You pull away so you can look at Max’s clear blue eyes. You’re a little surprised to see a bit of sadness sitting in those baby blues you love so much. “It’s okay baby. He did just fine without you.” 

Max frowns before pulling you closer. “And that’s what breaks my heart. I don’t want him to grow up without me.” 

You chuckle, “Oh, Max. He’s not going to grow up without you. If you really want, you can do the middle of the night feeding. He’ll be up in a few hours anyway.” 

Max nods, he usually did those late night feedings anyway. He loved the way the entire world was hushed and asleep. He felt cocooned in the most calming way and those nights where it was just him and Theo were some of his favorite. 

Silence stretches out between you. Your heartbeat matches up with Max’s eventually and your eyes get a little heavy with his warmth pressed up against you. You’d missed this kind of calm presence that Max brought to your life. It was always there, of course, but sometimes it was a little further than you liked during the season. Having him here now was so soothing, making you feel like you could conquer anything that came your way. 

After a few quiet moments, Max’s deep voice finally breaks the silence. 

“I think I’m done after this season, liefje.” 

You’d had this conversation countless times over the years, so much so that the words don't even make your heart race anymore. There’s something different in Max’s voice tonight, though. He sounds tired, worked over, resigned. Like the years spent on the road are finally catching up to him and you know, deep in your chest that it’s time. 

“I know, Max.” You whisper, dropping your forehead to his before brushing a kiss against his nose. “Come home to us. Theo and I are ready to have you all to ourselves now.” 

And that's exactly what happens.

maxverstappen1 posted

5,039,504 likes liked by yourusername, redbullracing, f1, and others maxverstappen1 this sport has been part of my life for most of my time here on earth. i started in karting not long after i started walking. motorsport brought me to the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. 7 championships. the love of my life. my child. this sport has brought me to all of the most important milestones of my life. but all good things must come to an end. i've achieved everything i set out to do all those years ago and my priorities have shifted. at the end of may, i became a father and suddenly that pull to retirement got stronger. @/username knows how many times i threatened to quit mid-season so it wasn't a surprise to her when i came to her after texas and told her it was time. after twelve seasons racing in the pinnacle of motorsport, i'm officially announcing my retirement. to my team, thank you. you have forever shaped who i am. to my wife, i love you. you are all the good things in this world and i am so lucky you chose me to be your husband. to my theo, you changed me in a way no one else has. being your dad is the most important job i've ever had. i can't wait to watch you grow into the person you're destined to become. to my fans, thank you. your devotion means the absolute world to me and i would not have made it to where i am today. thank you, from the bottom of my heart. yourusername theo and i are so so proud of you. welcome home, my love. >>>user9292 *sobbing* charlesleclerc congratulations on a lifetime of acheivments. can't wait to see what you do now, my friend!! lando congrats GOAT. excited to finally not be asked 'how does it feel to lose to max verstappen?' EVER AGAIN >>>charlesleclerc now it'll be 'how does it feel to lose to charles???' >>>lando stfu redbullracing we're not crying, you're crying!!! lewishamilton you will be missed, max. enjoy retirement with that gorgeous family of yours!

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[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hi Pookie

I wanted to request A Max daughter one like Max and Kelly had the baby and the reader is like 16-17 (she can drive) and she gets into a really really bad car accident (like so bad she was in a coma or something) and the hospital calls both but they don't answer since they're busy with the baby. they have been neglecting her. Until they called another driver and they went to her and like they lecture Max and Kelly.

Unanswered Calls

Part 2: Answered Calls

Yn gripped the steering wheel with shaky hands, her breathing uneven as she blinked back the sting of exhaustion. The streetlights blurred as rain splattered against the windshield, the rhythmic thudding of wipers doing little to clear her vision.

She was used to being on her own.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t asked. Earlier that afternoon, she had stood at the kitchen counter, bag in hand, waiting.

“Mom, Dad, I have ballet at six,” she had said, shifting her weight awkwardly as Kelly rocked the baby in her arms and Max tried to calm Penelope, who was throwing a fit about something.

Neither of them had even turned toward her.

“I can’t right now, sweetie,” Kelly had murmured distractedly, adjusting the baby’s tiny blanket.

“Ask your mom, I—Penelope, please, stop screaming,” Max had muttered, rubbing his temple as he tried to negotiate with his six-year-old daughter.

Yn had nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She didn’t ask again. She was used to this—being the afterthought, the independent one, the one who didn’t need attention because she never demanded it. So she had grabbed her car keys, not trusting herself to be upset.

Now, barely an hour later, everything was going wrong.

Her tires hit a patch of water, hydroplaning before she could react. The world spun. A blaring horn. The sharp, crunching sound of metal on metal. A shock of pain. Then, blackness.

Daniel was halfway through dinner when his phone buzzed. He almost ignored it, expecting it to be some stupid spam call, but something made him glance down.

Unknown Number.

Frowning, he wiped his hands on a napkin before answering. “Hello?”

“Is this Daniel?” A woman's voice, professional but urgent. “Daniel Ric—”

“Yes, yes, who is this?” He sat up straight, suddenly alert.

“This is St. James Hospital. Your goddaughter, Yn Verstappen, was in a severe car accident. You were listed as an emergency contact. We’ve been trying to reach her parents, but—”

Daniel was already on his feet, chair scraping against the floor. “Where is she? What happened?”

“She sustained significant injuries, including lung trauma. We had to place a chest tube to assist her breathing. The doctors have decided to keep her in a medically induced sleep for a few days to help her body recover.”

His stomach twisted. “And Max and Kelly? Her parents?”

“We’ve called multiple times. No answer.”

Daniel clenched his jaw. “I’ll be there in ten.”

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and something too clean to be comforting. Daniel rushed through the corridors, his pulse hammering in his throat as he found Yn’s room.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight.

She lay there, pale against the hospital sheets, her face bruised, her arm wrapped in gauze. Tubes ran from her chest, connected to a machine that beeped steadily.

A nurse—young, with kind eyes—stood by the bedside, adjusting the IV. She looked up as he entered. “Are you Daniel?”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

“I’m Nurse Emily. She’s stable for now.”

He approached the bed slowly, his heart aching. “Jesus, kid…” He ran a shaky hand through his hair before sitting beside her.

For a moment, he just stared at her. Yn, who had always been so full of life, so determined to carve her own space in a world that never seemed to make room for her. Now she lay still, fragile in a way he had never seen before.

He reached out, brushing her hair from her forehead. “I’m here, Yn,” he whispered.

Emily hesitated before speaking. “You’re the first person who answered.”

Daniel frowned. “What do you mean?”

She sighed. “We called her parents over and over. No answer. No call back.”

Daniel’s hands curled into fists. “They didn’t even pick up?”

Emily shook her head. “Not once.”

Daniel let out a slow, furious breath. Then he pulled out his phone and called Max.

Voicemail.

He tried Kelly.

Voicemail.

Grinding his teeth, he left a message. “Max. Kelly. Your daughter is in the hospital. She was in a bad car accident. Call me back. Now.”

An hour passed. Nothing.

Two hours.

Three.

Four.

Yn remained unconscious, her chest rising and falling with the help of the machines. Daniel stayed at her side, his anger growing hotter with every minute.

When Max and Kelly finally walked through the door, he was ready.

Kelly looked tired. Max looked confused.

“Daniel, what’s going on?” Max asked, frowning.

Daniel stood up slowly. “What’s going on?” His voice was too calm. “You tell me, Max. Kelly. Where the hell have you been?”

Kelly blinked. “At home, we—”

“At home?” Daniel let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Your daughter has been lying in this hospital bed for hours, and you were at home?”

Max’s expression darkened. “We didn’t get any calls.”

“Bullshit.” Daniel pulled out his phone and waved it. “I called you. The hospital called you. They tried for hours. But I guess you were too busy to notice your own daughter almost died.”

Kelly paled. “Died?” Her voice wavered as she looked at Yn. “Oh my God.”

Max took a step forward, but Daniel blocked him. “Don’t.” His voice was steel. “You don’t get to come in here now and pretend you care.”

Max’s jaw clenched. “Of course we care.”

Daniel scoffed. “Do you? Because she drove herself to ballet since neither of you could be bothered. She’s seventeen, Max. A kid. But she didn’t even ask twice because she already knew the answer.”

Kelly looked away, shame creeping into her features.

Daniel continued, voice shaking with anger. “She was alone when the accident happened. Alone when they brought her here. And when the doctors needed her parents, where were you?”

Silence.

Daniel exhaled sharply. “She’s used to this, you know?” His voice was quiet now, but no less furious. “She’s used to being second to Penelope, to the baby, to everything else in your lives. She doesn’t complain. She doesn’t make a fuss. She just… deals with it.” He swallowed hard. “But this? This she couldn’t deal with alone.”

Max ran a hand down his face, guilt creeping in. “I—”

“I don’t want excuses,” Daniel snapped. “I want you to do better.”

Kelly’s eyes filled with tears. “Can we see her?”

Daniel stepped aside. “She’s been waiting long enough.”

Max walked to the bed, his hands trembling as he reached for Yn’s fingers. “Oh, sweetheart…” His voice broke.

Kelly sat on the other side, her hand covering her mouth as silent tears slipped down her face.

Daniel crossed his arms, watching.

They could cry all they wanted. But the real question was—would they change?

And for Yn’s sake, they damn well better.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you. No Part 2 requests, please.

-🩷🎀

[yeyinde]

John deciding to blow off steam by subscribing to a cute camgirl's onlyfans account and quickly becoming the top contributor. a harmless way to relax, and spoil a pretty girl with gifts and money, the sort of thing he doesn't have time for in his personal life but craves. hungers for. pays for lingerie and toys, private shows and videos. eagerly devours any time she has to spare on him, but the more he gets to know her, the more obsessed he becomes. the more possessive. wanting. monopolizing all of her time so that she never has a minute to spare on others.

and then she sends him a birthday video. congrats on your fortieth, she whispers into the camera, wearing the ensemble he bought for her. a mould of his cock in her hands, a whim he decided to go for after she pouted at him for a few minutes about how she wanted to feel him inside of her. or a (not so) cheap imitation, anyway. it's good. so good. she's perfect. and all his for tonight.

but she makes a mistake. his kitten is so good at hiding her face, her features. keeping herself a mystery. but as she gives him the sexiest performance he's ever seen, she slips up. shows more of herself than she wants to.

wish i could say happy birthday in person, she winks at him through the cheap plastic of her mask. a fox. isn't she coy? but it's an invitation he won't turn down.

after all, it'd be rude not to give the cute little secretary that greets him every morning exactly what she asked for, wouldn't it?