The Moment Everything Changed
Charles Leclerc x GF!reader x BFF!Arthur Leclerc
Summary: Y/n goes over to Arthur's house on the verge of a panic attack telling arthur she thinks she's pregnant. She bought a few pregnancy test with her, she took all of them. her and Arthur waited together- basically Arthur trying to get her to calm.
All of them was positive.
Que the actual panic attack.
Y/n's hands were shaking so badly she could barely lock her car as she stood outside Arthur's front door, the late afternoon sun dipping low enough to cast long shadows that made everything feel distorted, too sharp, too bright.
Her chest was tight, each breath thin and fast, the edges of her vision blurry with tears she was fighting to keep back. The weight of the small paper pharmacy bag in her hand felt like it was crushing her, the cardboard edges digging into her palm.
She didn't knock properly. It was more of a frantic tap, uneven, the sound of someone on the edge.
Arthur opened the door a moment later, hair messy, wearing grey sweats and a faded t-shirt, his grin dropping the second he saw her.
"Y/n/n?" he said, brows furrowing, concern flooding his face as he scanned her shaking frame.
She couldn't speak. She just shoved the pharmacy bag into his chest, her bottom lip quivering as tears finally spilled over. Her breaths came faster, sharp and shallow, the dizziness creeping in.
Arthur's eyes dropped to the bag, his brain connecting the dots instantly. His eyes snapped back up to her, wide.
"You—" he started, but her panicked sob cut him off.
"I think I'm pregnant," she choked out, voice so small, so scared, like a child admitting to breaking something that can't be fixed.
Arthur's stomach dropped, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he stepped forward, gently pulling her inside, closing the door softly so it didn't startle her further.
"It's okay, come on, let's go sit down," he said, guiding her with a hand on her back to the bathroom, the one with the soft blue towels and the window that let in the evening breeze.
Y/n was practically hyperventilating now, her breaths short and rapid, tears streaming down her cheeks as she held herself, fingers digging into her arms.
Arthur crouched in front of her, hands on her shoulders, his own heart racing, but he forced his voice to stay calm. "Y/n, look at me. Breathe with me, yeah? Like we used to."
She shook her head frantically, sobbing, "I can't—I can't—"
"Yes, you can," Arthur said firmly but softly, holding up a finger, raising it slowly. "In."
She tried, her breath catching, but she managed a shaky inhale, then a ragged exhale. He did it again, and again, until she was still crying but the breathing wasn't so jagged, the colour returning to her face.
"That's it," Arthur whispered, brushing tears off her cheek with his thumb. "Good job."
They opened the bag together, Y/n's hands trembling so badly she almost dropped the boxes, Arthur catching them mid-fall.
"You really bought four?" he asked, trying to tease lightly to ease her fear, but she just looked at him with wide, terrified eyes.
"I need to be sure," she whispered.
"Okay," Arthur nodded, "let's do it."
One by one, Y/n took the tests, her hands shaking, tears dripping onto the plastic sticks as she set them on the counter. Arthur stood by the sink, arms crossed, his foot tapping with nerves he was trying to hide, his eyes never leaving her.
They waited, the longest five minutes of Y/n's life, the ticking of the small clock on the windowsill pounding in her ears like a drum.
She paced, clutching her stomach, breathing fast again, whispering, "Please, please, please, no, please," under her breath like a prayer.
Arthur stepped forward, gently catching her hands, squeezing them. "Hey, Y/n/n. Breathe. Whatever happens, we'll deal with it, okay? You're not alone."
When it was time, Y/n froze, unable to look, her entire body shaking, tears streaming silently down her face.
Arthur's throat was dry as he reached forward, flipping over the first test.
His heart sank, but he didn't react, moving to the next.
Arthur's mouth fell open, his breath catching, tears pricking his own eyes as he looked up at her.
"Y/n..." he whispered, voice cracking.
She saw the look on his face, the way his eyes were glassy, and she knew.
"No," she gasped, shaking her head, backing into the wall as her breathing sped up again, faster and faster until she couldn't catch a breath, the world closing in, dark spots flickering in her vision.
"Y/n, hey, hey!" Arthur said urgently, stepping forward, gripping her shoulders, "Y/n/n, look at me. Breathe. You have to breathe."
"I can't—Arthur—I can't—" she sobbed, sliding down the wall to the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, her body shaking violently.
Arthur dropped to his knees in front of her, pulling her into his arms, letting her sob into his chest as he rocked her gently, tears slipping down his own cheeks unnoticed.
"You're okay," he whispered over and over, "I've got you. I've got you."
She was gasping, choking on her sobs, her hands clawing at his hoodie, grounding herself in the fabric as the fear consumed her.
"I can't—this can't—I can't—" she cried, the words tumbling out, her body trembling so hard she felt like she might break.
Arthur pressed her head to his chest, closing his eyes, his own tears falling. "You're not alone, Y/n. I'm here. We'll figure this out. You're safe."
It took a long time, minutes or maybe hours, for her sobs to slow, for the shaking to ease, for the storm inside her chest to calm enough for her to breathe properly again.
But Y/n's breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps again as she pulled back from Arthur’s chest, her eyes wide, wild, fear clouding them.
“How am I meant to tell Charles?” she whispered, her voice cracking, panic rising again. “Arthur, how—he’s going to—oh God—”
She pressed her hands to her face, sobs starting again, her whole body trembling.
Arthur squeezed her shoulders gently, trying to anchor her. “Y/n, hey, hey, look at me.”
She didn’t, rocking slightly, shaking her head. “He’s going to hate me. This is going to ruin everything. He’s not ready for this, Arthur, I’m not ready for this—”
“Y/n.” His voice was firmer now, though still gentle, and he moved his hands to cup her face, forcing her to look at him.
Tears spilled over again, streaking down her already tear-stained cheeks. “I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m not ready to be a mum. I can’t even take care of myself half the time, Arthur, how am I meant to take care of a baby?”
Arthur’s heart clenched, seeing his best friend like this, terrified, breaking apart.
“You don’t have to have it all figured out right now,” he said softly, brushing her hair back. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
“But Charles—he’s going to leave, isn’t he? I’m going to ruin everything—” she hiccupped, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve, her eyes pleading with Arthur for an answer he couldn’t give.
Arthur let out a small, sad laugh, shaking his head. “Y/n, he’s not going to leave you.”
“You don’t know that!” she snapped, the fear twisting into frustration, her hands shaking. “You don’t know what he’s going to say, Arthur. You don’t know—”
Arthur held her gaze, letting her anger wash over him. “You’re right. I don’t know exactly what he’s going to say,” he admitted honestly, “but I know my brother. I know how much he loves you. I know that there is nothing in this world that would make him walk away from you.”
Y/n's lip quivered, her eyes dropping. “How am I meant to tell him?” she whispered, her voice so small it broke his heart.
Arthur gently lifted her chin, his eyes warm, calm, steady. “We can tell him together if you want,” he offered, his thumb brushing away a tear that fell. “You don’t have to do it alone. We’ll figure out the right time, the right way, okay?”
She let out a shaky breath, leaning her forehead against his, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m so scared, Arthur.”
“I know,” he whispered, rubbing slow circles on her back, grounding her. “But you’re going to be okay. I promise.”
They sat like that for a while, the quiet of the small bathroom surrounding them, only the soft ticking of the clock filling the silence. Arthur’s hand was warm on her back, his presence steady and unshakable.
After a moment, he leaned back just enough to look at her, a small, teasing smile tugging at his lips.
“You know,” he said, his eyes brightening, “it’s not the end of the world, Y/n/n.”
Her brows furrowed, tears still on her cheeks. “What?”
Arthur’s smile grew, his eyes twinkling. “Imagine you having a mini Charles running around.”
Y/n let out a strangled, tearful laugh, her hand smacking his chest lightly. “Arthur!”
He chuckled softly, wiping another tear from her cheek. “Or a mini you, with your attitude. Oh God, the world won’t be ready.”
Despite the tears, Y/n let out another watery laugh, her shoulders shaking, the tension easing just a fraction.
“And you know what?” Arthur continued, squeezing her hand, his grin softening into something warm, sincere, protective. “No matter what happens, I’m going to be the best uncle ever.”
Y/n's eyes welled up again, but this time the tears weren’t just fear; they were relief, gratitude, love. “Arthur…”
“I’m serious,” he said, shrugging. “I’m going to spoil that kid rotten. Teach them how to kick a football, sneak them chocolate before dinner, and tell them all about how their mum is the strongest, bravest person I know.”
Y/n broke, letting out a sob as she fell into his arms again, hugging him so tightly it almost knocked the breath out of him.
“You’ve got this, Y/n,” he murmured into her hair, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “And I’ve got you. Always.”
They stayed there, on the bathroom floor, Y/n tucked into Arthur’s arms as the sky outside turned to dusk, the weight of the world still heavy, but no longer crushing her.
They didn’t tell Charles that night.
Y/n was too raw, too exhausted, her eyes swollen from crying, her body limp with the aftermath of panic. Arthur tucked her into the guest bed at his flat, sitting on the floor beside her until she fell into a restless sleep, whispering reassurances that they would figure it out, that she was not alone.
The next afternoon, Arthur texted Charles.
“Hey, can you come over? Need to talk.”
Charles arrived within fifteen minutes, hair damp from a shower, in a black hoodie and grey joggers, concern etched into the lines of his forehead the second he saw Arthur’s face.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded immediately, stepping inside, glancing around as if expecting to find someone injured.
Arthur’s mouth was dry, his stomach tight. “Sit down.”
Charles’s eyes narrowed. “Arthur, what is it?”
Y/n was sitting on the couch, curled into the corner, wearing one of Arthur’s old hoodies, her knees hugged to her chest, her hair tied in a messy bun, her face pale, eyes ringed with shadows from a sleepless night.
When Charles saw her, the tension in his face softened immediately. “Y/n?” he said, stepping forward, worry overtaking his irritation. “What’s going on, mon amour? Are you okay?”
Y/n's bottom lip trembled, and she looked away, pressing her forehead to her knees.
Charles shot Arthur a sharp, confused look. “Arthur, what’s going on?”
Arthur’s hands were in his pockets, his thumb rubbing the seam of his jeans, grounding himself. “We need to tell you something, Charles. But you need to let us finish before you say anything.”
Charles’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking between Arthur and Kaycie, a flicker of fear in his green eyes. “What is it?”
Y/n let out a shaky breath, lifting her head, tears already in her eyes. “I—I don’t know how to say it.”
Arthur stepped closer to the couch, sitting on the coffee table in front of her, nodding softly. “It’s okay, Y/n/n. I’ll help.”
Charles’s fists clenched, stepping forward. “Arthur, just say it.”
Arthur swallowed, looking up at his brother. “Y/n's pregnant.”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the ticking of the clock on the wall.
Charles blinked, his face blank, as if the words hadn’t registered.
Then, slowly, the colour drained from his face. “What?” His voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper.
Y/n let out a small sob, covering her face with her hands, shoulders shaking.
Arthur’s eyes were glassy, but his voice was steady. “Y/n's pregnant, Charles.”
Charles shook his head, taking a step back, his hand running through his hair, breathing suddenly ragged. “How—when—”
Charles’s eyes snapped to Y/n, who peeked up at him through tear-soaked lashes, nodding helplessly.
“I didn’t know, I swear,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I didn’t know until yesterday.”
The silence was thick, Charles’s chest rising and falling as he tried to process, his mind spinning.
Arthur broke it gently, “She found out yesterday, she came to me because she was having a panic attack. We took tests. All of them were positive.”
Charles looked at Arthur, his eyes wide, confusion and hurt mixing there. “You knew before me?” His voice broke, pain flashing across his features.
Arthur exhaled. “I didn’t want to, Charles. I just—she needed someone.”
Y/n let out a choked sob, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Charles.”
Charles moved then, dropping to his knees in front of the couch, his hands trembling as he reached for her, cupping her tear-streaked face.
“Hey, hey, mon amour,” he whispered, his own tears spilling now, “you don’t have to be sorry.”
She sobbed, collapsing into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled her into his chest, holding her so tightly as if he was trying to fuse her into him.
“I’m so scared, Charles,” she cried, her fingers gripping the back of his hoodie.
“I know, I know, baby,” he murmured into her hair, his own tears dripping onto her shoulder. “We’re going to be okay. You hear me? We’re going to be okay.”
Arthur stood, wiping a tear away, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips as he watched his brother hold the girl who was like family to him.
Charles pulled back just enough to look at Y/n, brushing her tears away with his thumbs, his eyes soft, glistening.
“You’re going to be the best mum, Y/n,” he whispered. “And I’m going to be right here, every step.”
She let out a shaky breath, leaning her forehead against his. “You’re not mad?”
Charles let out a broken laugh, shaking his head, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “No. Scared? Yes. But mad? Never.”
Arthur cleared his throat, smirking a little, his eyes still damp. “And for the record, I am going to be the best uncle ever.”
Charles let out a watery laugh, still holding Y/n close, “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow, “Mate, you’ll be too busy trying to change nappies and getting puked on. I’ll be the cool uncle sneaking them chocolate.”
Y/n let out a weak giggle, burying her face into Charles’s chest.
Charles looked up at Arthur, eyes still glistening, “Thank you.”
Arthur nodded, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “Always.”
In that moment, despite the fear, the unknown, and the chaos of what their future would now hold, a quiet warmth settled into the room.
Because they would face it together.
And somehow, that made everything feel just a little less scary.