@ Anakin Skywalker × Female!Reader ( Part. 2 )

♡ Two Lattes and a Truce, Please | MV1

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: WAR IS OVER

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

Max barely had time to react before George slammed him harder against the wall, his forearm pressing into Max’s chest. The eerily calm facade George had worn moments earlier had shattered, his eyes burning with unrestrained fury.

“How dare you?” George hissed, his voice low and shaking with rage. “How dare you go after my sister? Was this some twisted ploy to get back at me?”

Max blinked, stunned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” George snapped, his volume rising. “Do you hate me so much that you thought screwing my family was fair game? What kind of sick—”

“That’s enough,” Max growled, shoving George’s arm off his chest and stepping forward. His tone was sharp, cutting through George’s tirade. “This isn’t about you, George. This was never about you.”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit,” George shot back, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’ve been dating her for over a year, Max! Behind my back! You can’t stand me, fine, but don’t drag my sister into this mess. And now—” His voice cracked slightly as his fury spiked again. “Now, you’ve got her pregnant?”

Max stiffened at the accusation, his jaw tightening. “Yes, we’ve been together for over a year. And no, this wasn’t some game or some vendetta. I love her.”

George let out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Love her? That’s rich coming from you. You’ve spent years with a reputation for flings and one-night stands, and now you expect me to believe you’re suddenly the poster boy for commitment?”

Max’s eyes flashed. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about her. And you don’t know anything about us. She’s not just your sister, George—she’s my everything.”

George’s face twisted with a mix of anger and betrayal. “We used to be friends, Max. Before all this… tension, before the media shitstorm, I trusted you. And now I find out you’ve been sneaking around with my sister, lying to me—”

“We weren’t sneaking around to hurt you,” Max cut in. His voice softened slightly, but the edge remained. “We didn’t tell you because we knew this is exactly how you’d react. You wouldn’t have given me a chance.”

“And why the hell should I have?” George shouted, taking a step forward. “You could’ve come to me! You should’ve come to me! Instead, you lied to my face for a year, Max.”

Before the argument could escalate further, a panicked voice echoed down the alley.

“George!”

Both men turned to see Y/n running toward them, her expression a mix of frustration and fear.

“What the hell are you doing?” she yelled, her voice cracking. “George, let him go!”

George hesitated for a fraction of a second before releasing Max, stepping back but still glaring at him.

Max rubbed his shoulder, muttering, “Nice timing.”

“How did you even find us?” George asked, his tone clipped.

“Alex,” Y/n panted, shooting Max a look. “He saw you dragging Max into this alley and told me to come save his life before you did something stupid.”

Max snorted despite himself, but Y/n quickly rounded on him. “You—go. Let me talk to him.”

Max frowned, clearly reluctant. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Max. Go,” she insisted, her eyes darting between him and George.

After a tense moment, Max exhaled sharply and stepped back. “Fine. But I’m not going far.”

George’s jaw was tight as he stared down at Y/n, the tension in his posture palpable. He hadn’t moved since Max left, his silence heavier than any shouting match they’d ever had.

“George,” Y/n started softly, her voice trembling. “I’m so sorry for avoiding you. I didn’t know what to do, what to say. I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” George snapped, his tone clipped but not loud. He wasn’t angry enough to yell anymore, but his voice was laced with hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me, Y/n? I thought we shared everything.”

She flinched at the edge in his voice. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Disappoint me?” he repeated incredulously, stepping closer. His voice dropped to a near whisper, raw with emotion. “You could never disappoint me. But lying to me for over a year? Keeping this from me? That’s not like you.”

Her chest tightened, and tears pricked her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, George. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you. You’ve made it so clear how you feel about me dating other drivers. I didn’t want you to—”

“To what? Disown you? Hate you?” He let out a short, bitter laugh. “You’re my sister, Y/n. Nothing, nothing, could make me hate you.”

Y/n bit her lip, the weight of his words cracking through her defenses. “I was afraid,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Afraid of how you’d react, afraid you wouldn’t approve. Max… he just…” She trailed off, searching for the right words.

George raised an eyebrow, his arms crossing over his chest. “He just what?”

“He grew on me, okay?” she blurted, throwing her hands in the air. “Like a fungus! He’s annoying and stubborn and so full of himself sometimes, but he’s also… sweet and caring and—”

“Fungus? Seriously?” George interrupted, giving her an exasperated look.

“Don’t make fun of me right now!” she snapped, glaring at him through her tears. “This is hard enough as it is.”

George sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, fine. Fungus. Go on.”

She hesitated, taking a deep breath. “Before I knew it, I was in love with him. And I was terrified of what you’d say, of how you’d look at me. I didn’t want to lose you, George. You’re my big brother. I need you.”

His expression softened slightly, but the hurt in his eyes remained. “You never had to worry about losing me, Y/n. But you’ve got to understand how blindsided I feel right now. You’ve been lying to me for a year. A whole year. That’s a long time to keep something this big from me.”

She nodded, her tears spilling over. “I know. And I’m sorry. But I couldn’t keep hiding it. I love him, George. I love this baby. They’re my family now, but I don’t want to lose you in the process. Please don’t make me choose.”

George’s gaze dropped to her stomach, where her hand rested protectively. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his defenses cracking. “You’re really having a baby,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Y/n nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. You’re going to be an uncle.”

The words seemed to hit him like a freight train. His eyes widened slightly, and for the first time, his anger gave way to something softer—something vulnerable. “An uncle,” he repeated, as if trying to wrap his head around it.

“Yeah,” she said again, a small smile breaking through her tears. “And judging by that face, you’re already a mess about it.”

George blinked rapidly, as though trying to hide the tears forming in his eyes. “I’m not a mess,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat.

“Oh, please,” Y/n teased, stepping closer. “You’re totally about to cry. Look at you. Mr. Stoic is cracking.”

“I am not,” he insisted, though his voice wavered.

Y/n let out a watery laugh, poking him lightly in the chest. “You’re going to be such a softie with this kid. I can already see it—Uncle George, buying them whatever they want, teaching them how to drive a go-kart.”

He shook his head, finally letting out a small laugh despite himself. “Don’t push your luck.”

She smiled up at him, her tears drying as the tension between them eased. “I mean it, George. You’re going to be an amazing uncle.”

George looked at her for a long moment, his emotions written all over his face. Finally, he stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug, holding her as if he never wanted to let go.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted,” he murmured against her hair. “I just… I didn’t know what to do. But I’m here now. For you, for the baby—for all of it. I promise.”

Y/n clung to him, her own tears returning but this time from relief. “Thank you,” she whispered.

As they pulled back, George’s eyes flicked to her stomach again, a small, hesitant smile tugging at his lips. “An uncle,” he said again, softer this time.

“Yep,” Y/n said, grinning. “And I fully expect you to cry when you meet them.”

He rolled his eyes, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed him. “Not a chance.”

“We’ll see,” she teased, poking his shoulder.

George held Y/n in a tight embrace, his protective big-brother instincts still warring with the softer emotions breaking through. As he finally pulled back, his eyes flickered with something sharper. He crossed his arms and glanced toward the direction Max had left.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said, his tone firm, “I might have forgiven you, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him.”

Y/n groaned softly, already dreading where this was going. “George, come on—”

“No,” George cut her off, raising a hand. “You lied to me, yes, but Max went behind my back for a year. A year, Y/n! And then he let this whole thing explode in the most dramatic way possible.”

“It wasn’t exactly planned,” Y/n muttered, cheeks flushing.

George scoffed. “Planned or not, he’s got a lot to answer for. I’m willing to let go of our public feud for your sake but that doesn’t mean Max gets off easy. He needs to prove himself.”

“Prove himself?” she echoed, exasperated. “George, what does that even mean?”

“It means,” George said, his expression deadly serious, “that he needs to show me he’s good enough for you. And he’d better get down on one knee while he’s at it.”

Y/n’s face turned scarlet. “Oh my God, George. Stop.”

“Nope,” George said stubbornly, his tone matter-of-fact. “This is my right as your older brother after the shit you two pulled. You don’t get to say anything about it. I’m exercising my privileges.”

She buried her face in her hands, groaning. “I can’t believe this. I’m going to die of embarrassment.”

George smirked, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Good. That’s exactly how you’re supposed to feel after pulling something like this.”

“You’re impossible,” she mumbled, but there was no real venom in her voice.

“And you’re stuck with me,” he shot back, his grin softening into something more affectionate.

Despite her embarrassment, Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, nudging him lightly. “Fine. But can we at least agree that you’ll keep this lecture to just me and Max? No ambushing us at family dinner or something?”

“No promises,” George teased, but his smile made it clear he wasn’t entirely serious.

The next morning Max stood in front of the hotel, staring at the text from George for what felt like the hundredth time. “Meet me at my hotel for coffee. 10 AM. We need to talk.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure if this was going to be another thinly veiled trap or a genuine olive branch. After yesterday’s confrontation, he wasn’t holding his breath. But for Y/n’s sake, he’d go through whatever hoops George wanted him to.

He took a deep breath and walked into the lobby, spotting George sitting at a quiet corner table. Two mugs of coffee sat in front of him, steam still rising from the cups. George’s posture was straight, his face set in an unreadable expression. Max approached cautiously, offering a small nod as he slid into the chair across from him.

“Morning,” George said, his tone neutral but clipped.

“Morning,” Max replied, equally measured.

“Thanks for coming,” George said as Max slid into the seat across from him.

“I figured I didn’t have much of a choice,” Max replied lightly, though his voice held no hostility.

George gave a small smile, almost amused, but it faded quickly. “Look, I wanted to say… about yesterday. I didn’t handle things well. I was angry, and I let it get the better of me. But that doesn’t mean I regret defending my sister.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension between them almost tangible. George was the first to break it, leaning forward slightly as he spoke. “I thought it was time we had a proper conversation, away from the cameras, away from everyone else.”

Max nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

George tapped his fingers against the table, his sharp blue eyes locking onto Max’s. “Look, I’m not going to pretend I’m okay with everything that’s happened. I’m not. But I need to understand… What are you doing, Max? What are your intentions with my sister?”

Max’s jaw tightened. He’d expected this question, but that didn’t make it any easier to answer. Still, he owed George the truth. “I love her,” he said firmly, meeting George’s gaze. “I have for a long time. She’s… she’s everything to me. And now, with the baby, it’s not just about love—it’s about building a life together, a family. I want to give her everything she deserves.”

George’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still unreadable. “If that’s true, then why didn’t you come to me? Why keep it a secret for over a year? You knew how I’d feel about it, didn’t you?”

Max exhaled, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “I did. I knew you wouldn’t approve, and I didn’t want to put her in a position where she’d have to choose between us. I didn’t handle it right—hiding it wasn’t fair to you. For that, I’m sorry.”

George studied him for a long moment, his fingers still tapping against the table. Finally, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Do you intend to marry her?”

Max didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I’ve already started looking at rings.”

That admission seemed to catch George off guard, his eyebrows raising slightly. He looked away for a moment, his gaze fixed on the untouched coffee in front of him. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “I won’t lie, Max. This is going to take me some time to process. I can’t say I’m thrilled about it, but… for her—and for the baby—I’m willing to put our differences aside. We can be cordial. But don’t mistake that for approval. You’ve got a long way to go before you earn that.”

Max nodded, his expression serious. “I understand. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I’m worthy of her.”

George leaned forward again, his voice hardening. “One more thing. If you ever hurt her—if you ever make her regret this—I won’t hesitate to make you pay. I don’t care if you’re a four-time world champion or the King of the Netherlands. I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Max’s lips twitched in a faint smile. “If I ever do anything to hurt her, I’ll come to you myself and let you deal with me.”

That seemed to satisfy George, who leaned back again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

There was a moment of silence before George let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. “God, I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle.”

Max chuckled softly. “You’ll be a great uncle. The kid’s already lucky to have you.”

George shook his head, laughing lightly. “Don’t butter me up, Verstappen. It’s not going to make me go easy on you.”

Max smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

George’s expression turned serious again. “I’m giving you a chance here, Max. Don’t waste it.”

“I won’t,” Max said, his voice steady. “I promise.”

“Also,” Max began, his tone more subdued, “I want to apologize for some of the things I’ve said about you in the media.”

George’s eyes snapped up to meet his, eyebrows raised slightly in surprise.

“I shouldn’t have insulted your driving the way I did,” Max continued. “I was frustrated, angry… you know how it gets out there sometimes. But that doesn’t make it okay. You’re a talented driver, and I should’ve respected that, even if we were at odds.”

George nodded slowly, his expression softening just a fraction. “I appreciate that,” he said quietly. “And… I owe you an apology too.”

Max tilted his head, waiting.

“I shouldn’t have called you dangerous,” George admitted, his voice a little heavier with guilt. “That was crossing a line, and it wasn’t fair. I let my emotions get the better of me after… well, after what happened in the steward’s room. I shouldn’t have let it get so personal.”

Max leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest as he processed George’s words. After a beat, he gave a small, understanding nod. “We were both running high on adrenaline and emotions. It happens. But if you’re willing to move past it, so am I.”

George offered a faint smile, one that looked genuine despite the lingering awkwardness. “Yeah, I think it’s about time we put it behind us. For Y/n’s sake, if nothing else.”

“For Y/n,” Max echoed with a small smile of his own.

They both extended their hands almost at the same time. Their handshake was firm, a silent agreement that they were both ready to turn the page.

As they stood to leave, George clapped Max on the back, his expression softening. “For what it’s worth, Max… I hope you prove me wrong.”

“I will,” Max replied confidently. “For her.”

y/n_russell posted:

y/n_russell: Plot twist of the century: Baby Verstappen-Russell loading… 🍼❤️

Comments:

georgerussell63: I’m so excited to be an uncle!! 🥹❤️

y/n_russell: I just know you're going to be the best uncle ever Georgie ❤️ user: Hold up. George Russell is actually HAPPY about this?! What parallel universe are we in?! user: George in the comments acting all sweet now… Sir, we SAW you death-staring Max at the anthem. Don’t think we forgot 💀

user: SCREAMING, CRYING, THROWING UP. THE DRAMA. THE PLOT. THE ABSOLUTE CHAOS.

user: Y’all laughed at me when I said this was real. NOW WHO’S LAUGHING?!

user: I would like to personally APOLOGIZE to you. I thought you were joking about this, but clearly, you knew what you were doing. user: I need to apologize too for saying this wasn’t real. I genuinely thought you were being delusional. user: And THIS is why we don’t call people delusional, y’all!! Everyone owes her an apology immediately.

user: This baby just united two bloodlines like it’s Game of Thrones or something.

lewishamilton: Congratulations, Y/n and Max! Wishing you all the best on this exciting journey 🙌

y/n_russell: Thank you Lew 🥹

user: MAX VERSTAPPEN AND GEORGE RUSSELL AS FAMILY?!

user: The Verstappen-Russell feud will NEVER die. Even the baby can’t fix this 💀

user: I cannot BELIEVE the Verstappen-Russell baby is real. We live in the wildest timeline.

user: This baby has been conceived in a PR warzone. Their future memoir is gonna slap.

user: George, make Max get on one knee IMMEDIATELY. We are NOT doing this out of order!!

user: The way George probably has an Excel sheet for his new uncle duties… God bless this baby.

landonorris: I CALL GODFATHER. EVERYONE ELSE CAN BACK OFF.

charles_leclerc: Sorry, Lando, but I already submitted my application. Try again. oscarpiastri: Pretty sure I saved Max’s life this week. I should automatically win godfather. user: CHARLES AND LANDO FIGHTING OVER GODFATHER RIGHTS HAS ME ON THE FLOOR.

user: Y/n is so gorgeous, it’s unfair. Like, she’s PREGNANT, and she looks like THAT?!

user: I genuinely thought the Verstappen-Russell feud couldn’t get crazier, but then THIS happened.

user: Imagine being this baby and knowing your dad and uncle almost threw hands in the paddock over you. Icon.

carmenmmundt: So, so happy for you both!!! Baby Verstappen-Russell is already so loved. Can’t wait to spoil them.

y/n_russell: Carmen 😭❤️ Thank you! You and the girls have been the absolute best.

maxverstappen1: My love, you are my everything ❤️ I can’t wait to do this with you.

y/n_russell: I love you so much, Maxie 🥹❤️ georgerussell63: Okay, enough. Keep it PG. user: GEORGE SHUTTING IT DOWN IMMEDIATELY LMAO. user: George really said, “Not on my watch.”

user: The way Y/n just casually dropped this and logged off like the internet wasn’t gonna explode. Queen behavior.

user: welcome to the world baby Verstappen-Russell ❤️

Taglist: @ilovechickenwings @spooky-librarian-ghost @diaryofarandomkid @rd14 @hc-dutch @96mcobo @grussellsprout @tremendousstarlighttragedy @awritingtree @shelbyteller @diorbrxtz

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@formula1fordisaster @5sospenguinqueen @ellelabelle @mastermindbaby @sturmatt @quinquinquincy @raizelchrysanderoctavius @mysteriouslydecaffeinatedfox @czennieszn @inthefairygrove @l3thal-l0lita @bravo-delta-eccho

Challenge de Escritura

04. Pelea

por si prefieren leer en ao3

Kylo alguna vez fue un marine, y aunque ya habían pasado tres años de su retiro, todavía no se había acostumbrado a la sociedad. Decidió que debía volver a la universidad, esperando encontrar amigos, sin embargo algo lamentable ocurrió. Todos le temían. 

Kylo con pelo negro hasta los hombros, un torso enorme y una altura de 1.90, parecia tener el fisico perfecto para permanecer solo el resto de su vida. Y quizás esto hubiera pasado, si hubiera faltado a sus clases ese día tan lluvioso que parecía que iba a caerse el cielo. En el ejército, fue preparado para todo tipo de situaciones, así que unas gotas no iban a detenerlo. Claro que no tuvo en cuenta que su profesor iba a faltar junto al noventa porcierto de los estudiantes. Kylo se quedó sentado en una banca tomando café de lata, que miserable. Ni siquiera tenía un amigo como para reírse de su desgracia. 

—En serio soy un tonto. 

—No te preocupes, no eres el único—una voz contestó a su comentario. Kylo miró pero los primeros segundos no entendió que estaba viendo, hasta que unos ojos bajo esa bola de ropa se hizo presente—Un gusto, soy Naeve. 

Una mano salió bajo las tres capas de ropa, una mano pequeña, con uñas cortas pero cuidadas, Kylo la agarró.

—Un gusto, Naeve. 

Knight of My Heart

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: After one too many drinks, a protective Max arrives right when you need him most.

1.7k words / Masterlist

It was nearly 2am when Max’s phone buzzed on his nightstand, dragging him from the edges of sleep. The faint light from his screen illuminated the dark room, and he reached for it with a groggy hand, squinting at the text that appeared.

“She’s drunk. Like realllly drunk. Can you come get her?”

Max sat up, his heart already sinking. The message was from one of your friends, someone whose name he only half-remembered from the countless times they’d insisted they’d “watch out for you.” Max knew better by now. He sighed, ranking a hand through his messy hair, before throwing the blanket off and quickly pulling on a hoodie and jeans.

The drive to the club was quiet, but Max’s mind wasn’t. He hated these nights. It wasn’t just the thought of you being drunk and vulnerable; it was the idea that you were so carefree and beautiful, and people always noticed. Too many times Max had seen guys try to get too close, their smiles too slick and intentions too obvious.

When he finally pulled up outside the club he saw you almost immediately. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

You were leaning against a lamp post near the curb swaying slightly in your heels, a dazed smile on your face as a man hovered beside you. Max’s chest tightened at the sight. The guy was too close, his body angled toward yours as he spoke animatedly, gesturing with his hands. You laughed softly at whatever he said, your voice carrying over the low thrum of the music spilling from the club’s entrance.

Max killed the engine and climbed out, his jaw set. His strides were purposeful, closing the distance between you in seconds.

“Maxie!” you squealed the moment you spotted him, your arms flinging open in delight.

“You’re here!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around his torso and nearly toppling yourself over in the process.

The guy looked over at Max, not at all intimidated, but Max didn’t care. His jaw tightened, his fists clenching by his sides as he stepped closer.

“You good?” Max asks you, his voice a little rougher than usual.

The man gave Max a once-over, clearly sizing him up. “She seems fine to me,” he said, his tone too casual for Max’s liking.

Max’s eyes narrow, the jealousy coursing through him now unmistakable. He took a step closer to you, brushing his hand lightly against your shoulder. “Oh because you know her so well, right?” he asked the guy, voice clipped.

With a taunting smirk, the guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “She was just telling me about her night. She looked like she needed some company.”

Max wasn’t having it, he stands tall, his body blocking your view of the man now. “Right, I don’t think you understand,” Max replied dryly, placing a firm hand on your waist. “I’m her boyfriend, she's mine. Thanks for your concern, but I’ll take it from here.”

The man’s lips twitched, as though he wanted to argue, but something in Max’s gaze seemed to convince him otherwise. With a tight nod, he muttered a quick, “Whatever man,” and walked off into the crowd.

As the guy disappeared, Max’s frustration didn’t completely fade, but he focused right back on you. Guiding you towards his car, hand never leaving your side. You leaned into him, your cheek resting against his shoulder the alcohol making your limbs feel heavy.

You looked up at him, your face slightly flushed, your eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” you asked quietly.

Max’s lips press together tightly, trying to ignore the flare of jealousy still lingering. “I’m fine,” he said, even though he’s anything but. "Just... I want you to be safe, alright?"

You nod, though your head wobbles slightly. "I know... just wanted to have fun."

Max exhaled slowly, his tension only easing slightly as he turned to you. You were beaming up at him, clearly oblivious to the small confrontation that had just unfolded.

“I get it,” he said softly, his hand steadying you at your waist. “But where are your friends?”

“They’re inside,” you mumbled, waving a hand vaguely toward the club entrance. “Or somewhere. I don’t know. I came out to get some air.”

Max sighed, scanning the area for any sign of your group. Just then a few of your friends emerged from the club giggling.

“Max!” One of them called her tone far too cheery. “She’s all yours.”

Max’s brows furrowed, his frustration bubbling over. “Why did you let her get this drunk?” he snapped. “Anything could’ve happened to her out here!”

Your friend blinked, her smile faltering. “She’s a big girl Max. Besides, we knew you’d come.”

“That’s not the point,” Max said, his voice sharp. "You should’ve made sure she was safe.”

Your friends exchanged glances mumbling something, he exhaled heavily running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m glad you've all had fun, but next time just… watch out for her yeah? She’s very important to me.” He gazed down at you.

Your friends exchanged glances, some looking sheepish, others visibly annoyed at his tone.

“We had it under control, Max,” one of your friends said, her tone defensive. “We weren’t going to babysit her all night.”

Max’s jaw clenched. “Being there for your friend isn’t babysitting, it’s just what you do.”

Another friend, the quieter one of the group spoke up “Okay Max. We’ll keep a better eye on her next time, promise.”

“Thank you,” he said simply, looking back down at you. Your eyes were half-closed, a lazy smile on your lips as you mumbled something unintelligible against his chest.

Max shook his head, a mix of exasperation and fondness crossing his face. “Alright,” he said to the group, his tone a little lighter now. “I’m taking her home. Get back safely.”

“We will,” the quieter friend said, giving him a small, apologetic smile.

Max turned to you with a sigh of relief. “Let’s get you home.”

Max guided you to the car, his hand never leaving your waist. You leaned into him heavily, giggling at every little thing—the way his hand steadied you, the low muttering under his breath, even the way he opened the car door for you like you were royalty.

“You’re so nice to me, Maxie,” you said, settling into the passenger seat with a content sigh.

“I’m always nice to you,” he replied, pulling the seatbelt across your body and clicking it into place.

“You are,” you agreed, your voice soft and dreamy. “You’re my favourite person, you know that?”

Max froze for a moment, sure his heart skipped a beat, before he shook his head and closed your door.

The drive home was quiet, save for your occasional hums and mumbled comments about the pretty city lights. Max glanced at you every so often, his hand gripping your thigh, your eyes fluttering shut for brief moments.

When he finally pulled into his apartment’s parking garag you stirred, blinking sleepily. Inside you clung to him like a lifeline, your arms looped around his neck as he guided you to the bathroom.

“You’re so tall,” you murmured, your head resting against his chest. “Like a tree. A strong, handsome tree.”

Max chuckled despite himself, shaking his head as he set you down on the bathroom counter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you like me anyway,” you said, your grin lazy and smug.

He didn’t respond, instead reaching for a makeup remover wipe from the cabinet. You watched him curiously as he carefully cupped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Taking your makeup off,” he said simply.

You stared at him, your expression unreadable, as he carefully wiped at your face. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and he avoided your eyes, focusing instead on the task at hand.

"You take such good care of me." You whispered, reaching up to touch his hand. “You don’t have to, you know?”

“I know,” he said with a slight frown, his eyes finally meeting yours. “But I want to. You deserve it.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Max carried you to the bedroom, letting you climb him like a koala as you giggled into his shoulder. He set you down gently, pulling the covers over you before crouching beside the bed. You blinked at him sleepily, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You’re like a knight,” you mumbled, your voice thick with drowsiness. “My very own knight in shining armour.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “A very tired knight,” he replied, brushing a stray hair from your face. “But you’re going to hate me in the morning if I let you go to sleep without water and something for your hangover.”

“I don’t hate you,” you slurred, blinking up at him with glassy eyes. “I could never hate you.”

His chest tightened at the sincerity in your tone, “Stay awake for just a few more minutes okay? I’ll be right back.”

You made a soft noise of protest as he stood, but you didn’t try to stop him. Max moved quietly through the apartment, grabbing a glass from the kitchen and filling it with cold water. From the bathroom he grabbed a pack of paracetamol, the domesticity of the routine bringing a faint smile to his lips.

When he returned you were still half-propped against the pillows, your eyes fluttering open at the sound of his footsteps.

“Here,” Max said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He handed you the glass and pressed two pills into your palm. “Take these and drink some water. Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

You squinted at the pills like they’d personally offended you. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Max replied firmly, his lips quirking upward. “No arguments.”

“Bossy,” you muttered, but you popped the pills into your mouth and swallowed them with some water. “Happy now?”

“Very.”

You handed the glass back to him, and he set it on the nightstand before leaning forward to pull the blankets higher around you.

“I’m so lucky you’re my Maxie,” you sighed.

“Sleep,” he said softly, stroking your cheek.

“Stay,” you murmured, your eyes already half-closed.

Max hesitated, his heart twisting with adoration, before nodding. “I’ll be right here.”

mingyu boyfriends

que mingyu sea el tipo de novio que en publico prefiere dar abrazos o agarrarse de las manos y que en privado de besitos ES UN CONCEPTO QUE ME HACE LLORAR

Could you write something for cl16 where it’s Halloween and they do Gomez and morticia couples costumes. Love your work

CL16 — death and kisses

ty so much for the resqust! sorry if I made any mistake, english is not my first language

You were sitting on your desk trying to make the best smoky eye of your life, already dressed with your long black dress you were feeling kinda nervous. The high heels, the party, and being there with Charles.

It hadn't been long since you two started dating. And this type of thing was kind of a new experience.

“ Mon cœuer! Are you ready ” Charles exclaimed from the bathroom. He opened the door with his suit and sword posing “ Because I am ”

You laughed watching him by the mirror.

“ Well, look at you. Very very charming, Charles ” You smiled trying to not move too much. Your boyfriend got close to you with slow steps, staying at your side. He didn't say anything and you stared at the mirror. “What? Something is wrong?

Charles denied it with his head.

“ You look delightful dear ” You tried to hide the pink in your cheeks at his words. Charles couldn't stop watching your face and you, all of you. His heart started racing and he was hoping all the time that you could know how he felt about you. “ One day you’re going to kill me, mon cœur”

You smiled at him, putting down the brush.

“ Oh, really? ”

Charles returned the smile sitting with you.

“ It would be my pleasure to die for you, dear” He murmured against your lips. It took you a moment to crash their lips together in a slow kiss, Charles He slid his hand down your bare back until he reached your waist.

“ Your acting is very good, love” you said when the kiss broke with your breaths mixing.

“ There is no acting, everything is about you”

don't worry about posting vee! I have the same problem (a lot of thing happening in life plus writing in Spanish ans rewriting in english) Im curious, do you have a writing routine? 🤍

Hi and thank you so much for understanding!

And yes, I do have a writing routine as it isn’t only the best for me and my pretty busy life (uni, work and also some other classes and having a social life), but also because I really wanted to write more this 2025!

If you wanna know it detailed, here it is! Also, if you have some questions about it, or you want me to post more about this, or even some advice (i'm not an expert), just tell me :)

‧ First of all, I try writing daily at least 1k words a day. This is not always possible, but my intention is what actually counts. ‧ My writing time is during the mornings (if i have them free), after lunch time and also, at night. ‧ Before writing, I spend time doing a detailed planning of everything i'm going to write. This might seem stupid, but for me is so useful since I don't have to stop and think if I get blank at some point (even I change certain details while writing). ‧ From Monday to Thursday I write series chapters, while from Friday to Sunday I write one shots/individual fics. ‧ Also, I use weekends to do a detailed planning on all my series as I have many of them, and all of them are settled in the two different Formula 1 universes created by me and some of my fellow F1 writers friends. ‧ And don't forget all the time I spend correcting my fics after writing them in Spanish, and then translating in English and doing corrections! ‧ Last, but not least, I also publish on Wattpad, so I have to promote my fics on social media, specially TikTok and soon, on Instagram too! I have to make content to post, as well as covers, gifs and every single piece of media for my readers, if I have some of them, to like the story better)

Overall, writing takes me too much time so I hope you understand if sometimes I can't post! However, I'm absolutely grateful because all of this is so worth it since lots of you seem to love my fics <3

Favourite Moments | LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Girlfriend!Reader (Requested)

Summary: Lewis comes home to see that his girlfriend is sick, now it's his turn to take care of her.

Warning(s): Mild Language, sick!reader, no hurt just comfort, bathing together, no funny business, caring Lewis, fluffy.

"When I see your face, there’s not a thing that I would change..."

The apartment was too quiet.

Lewis had been expecting the usual enthusiastic welcome—maybe even a playful scolding for taking so long to come home.

Instead, the only thing that greeted him was an eerie silence. His brows pulled together as he set his bag down, eyes scanning the space.

The living room wasn’t a disaster, but it was....off.

A blanket was thrown haphazardly over the couch, an empty tea mug sat on the coffee table, and a bowl of half-eaten soup rested on the counter.

It wasn’t messy—just… abandoned.

A sense of unease crept in.

“Y/N?” he called, his voice cutting through the quiet. No response.

His frown deepened as he strode toward their bedroom. Pushing the door open, he found her—curled up beneath a mountain of blankets, completely still.

For a split second, worry flared in his chest.

Then—

A loud, completely ungraceful snore ripped through the air.

Lewis blinked before a quiet chuckle escaped him. “Oh, baby…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

He stepped closer, crouching beside the bed. As he pulled the blanket down slightly to get a look at her, his amusement quickly faded.

Her nose was red, her face slightly sweaty, strands of hair sticking to her forehead. She looked exhausted, even in sleep.

Lewis reached out, pressing the back of his fingers against her cheek—only to frown at the heat radiating off her skin.

“Damn,” he muttered, concern knitting his brows together.

Without hesitation, he pulled the thick blanket away, murmuring, “You’re gonna overheat yourself under here, love.”

He lets out a soft breath as his eyes landed on the photo frame clutched in her hands.

It was of them—Silverstone, last year. His victory, his home race, his moment of pure joy. But what made the picture so special wasn’t just the win.

It was her. The way she had looked at him, pride and love radiating from her eyes as she clung to him in the post-race celebrations. She had always been his biggest supporter, his constant.

And now, she lay here, sick and alone, clutching that memory like it was the only thing keeping her together.

His heart squeezed, torn between overwhelming love and guilt. She must have been missing him—enough to hold onto this while she slept.

He should have been here sooner.

But first, he needed to make sure she was okay.

Gently, he brushed his fingers over her cheek and murmured, “Love… wake up for me.”

She stirred, brows scrunching slightly before her eyes cracked open. A sleepy groan escaped her, and when she finally focused on him, her voice was raspy.

“Lewis…?”

Lewis smiled softly, taking in her messy hair, flushed cheeks, and tired eyes. “Hey, my pretty girl.”

Y/N blinked at him, then scoffed weakly. “I do not feel pretty right now.” She barely finished speaking before her nose wrinkled—achoo!

Lewis chuckled just as she groaned, rubbing at her nose. “God bless me,” she muttered just in time for another sneeze to wrack her frame. “Ugh.”

“Bless you, baby,” he said, amused as he reached for a tissue and handed it to her.

She sniffled, still pouting slightly, and Lewis shook his head fondly before helping her sit up. He pressed a kiss to her damp forehead, letting his lips linger.

“You know,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet her sleepy gaze, “you’re always the most gorgeous woman on earth to me. Some fever isn’t gonna change that.”

Her lips twitched tiredly, and Lewis felt warmth bloom in his chest.

She had been there for him through everything. The highs, the lows, the endless travel, the exhausting race weekends.

Now, it was his turn.

He cupped her cheek, stroking it gently. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

He sighed as Y/N shook her head weakly. “Lew, you really don’t have to. I’m okay. I already took some medicine.”

He raised a brow, unimpressed. “Uh-huh. And when did you take it?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, then muttered, “Sometime…”

Lewis smirked. “Right. That’s what I thought.”

As he adjusted the blanket around her shoulders, his eyes caught onto something that made his heart squeeze.

The oversized pajama top she was wearing—it was his.

And not just any of his clothes, but the one he’d worn the night before he left for the factory a week ago.

A slow, fond smile spread across his lips. “Babe… is that my shirt?”

Y/N blinked sleepily, looking down as if she hadn’t realized. “Mmm.”

His grin widened. “You wore it ‘cause it smells like me, didn’t you?”

She hesitated, then mumbled, “Maybe.”

Lewis chuckled softly, warmth blooming in his chest. She really had been missing him.

But his amusement faded when another thought struck him. “Okay, and… when was the last time you took a shower?”

Silence.

Lewis crossed his arms, tilting his head. “Babe.”

More silence.

He fought back a laugh as understanding dawned on him. “Y/N…”

She groaned dramatically, burying her face in her hands. “Ugh, I knew you were gonna ask that.”

“Well, yeah,” he said, amused. “You need to clean up, baby.”

She peeked at him from between her fingers. “But it’s cold.”

Lewis gave her a pointed look. “You do know you can turn the water temperature up, right?”

She blinked. “Oh. Right. I forgot that.”

This time, he actually laughed, and she whined, flopping against the pillows. “Not fair! I’m sick! My brain isn’t working properly!”

Lewis grinned, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her forehead. “You’re adorable.”

She huffed but didn’t argue.

But then his gaze darkened slightly as another thought crossed his mind. “Alright, when’s the last time you ate properly?”

Silence.

His stomach sank. “Y/N.”

She winced. “I… ate soup?”

His jaw tightened. “When?”

Another wince. “Like..maybe yesterday morning?” she mumbled.

Lewis straightened, running a hand down his face. “Babe, it’s the afternoon. You’re telling me you went all of yesterday and this morning without food?”

“I—I wasn’t hungry…” she tried, but even she knew it was a weak excuse.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Y/N, you can’t just—bloody hell.” His tone softened, his shoulders slumping as he reached for her hand.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more attentive. I should’ve checked in more than just texts. You haven’t eaten in almost two days, and you’ve been taking medicine on an empty stomach?”

She gave him a small, reassuring smile, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, Lew. I promise.”

He hummed in response, though the guilt gnawed at him.

“I have been drinking lots of water,” she added quickly, trying to ease his worry.

Lewis narrowed his eyes. “Mhm. And by ‘water,’ you mean…?”

“…Coffee?”

He groaned. “Y/NNN.”

“Just water is boring, Lewis” she pouted.

Lewis sighed, but the look on her face—flushed cheeks, tired eyes, a small pout—made his heart clench.

Even sick, she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

But she immediately pulled away, making his brows furrow. “What—”

“I’m sick, Lewis,” she said, giving him a tired but exasperated look. “You’re gonna get sick too.”

He blinked before letting out a small chuckle. “Oh, babe…” He cupped her face gently.

Lewis’s smile turned mischievous. “You really think that’s gonna stop me?”

Y/N barely had time to react before his lips were on hers. Soft, lingering, full of warmth.

She let out a tiny gasp, caught off guard, but Lewis only deepened the kiss slightly, savoring the feeling of her against him.

Even with her chapped lips, even with the slight fever burning off her skin, he wouldn’t have traded this moment for anything.

When he finally pulled back, he grinned at her dazed expression. “See? Still perfect.”

She blinked up at him, lips parted. “You’re so—”

“Devoted? Charming? The best boyfriend ever?” he teased.

She groaned. “I was gonna say stupid.”

Lewis just chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Stupid in love, maybe.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Nooo, that was so cringe, Lewis. Why are you like this?”

Lewis just grinned, pressing another quick peck to her lips. “What’s actually cringe is the fact that my girlfriend hasn’t showered properly for a week.”

Her head shot up immediately. “It’s only been three days!” she protested, glaring at him.

He smirked. “You’re just proving my point, love.”

Before she could throw another protest his way, her hand blindly grabbed a pillow and chucked it straight at his face.

Lewis blinked as the soft fabric hit him square on, falling to the side. Slowly, he turned his gaze back to her, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

Y/N was glaring at him, arms crossed, lips pursed in defiance.

But all he could think was how she looked like an adorable, grumpy little kitten.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he mused, just as her eyes narrowed suspiciously—

Before she could react, Lewis slid his hands under her and, with zero effort, lifted her up into his arms.

She let out a startled yelp. “LEWIS!”

He smirked, carrying her bridal-style toward the bathroom like she weighed nothing. “Right. I’m going to run you a bath.”

Y/N squirmed in his hold, her hands gripping onto his shoulders. “Lewis, oh my god, put me down!”

He only grinned, ignoring her protests as he stepped into the bathroom, gently setting her down on the counter. “Mmm....nope.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “I can do this myself, you know.”

Lewis turned to the bathtub, twisting the knobs to run warm water.

“I know you can. But I also know you’ll probably just sit in here, sigh dramatically, and then give up after five minutes because you’re too tired.”

Y/N gasped. “I—okay, maybe. But that’s not the point!”

Lewis chuckled, turning back to her, his eyes softening. “Let me take care of you, let me carry you around, let me pamper you love, please.”

She bit her lip, cheeks still flushed—probably from the fever, but also, maybe, from the way he was looking at her.

Gently, Lewis reached for the hem of her oversized pajama top—his shirt—and began tugging it up. “Arms up, baby,” he murmured.

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly lifted her arms, letting him pull it off.

The fabric slid over her head, and Lewis couldn’t help but smile as he caught a faint whiff of his own scent lingering on it. She really had been missing him.

His hands moved to the waistband of her pajama shorts, and his fingers brushed against her warm skin as he pulled them down.

His touch was careful, unhurried, full of tenderness rather than anything else.

Y/N shivered slightly—not from cold, but from the way he handled her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Lewis pressed a soft kiss to her bare shoulder before stepping back to check the bath.

He swirled his hand in the water, making sure it was the perfect warmth. “Alright, in you go.”

Y/N, still groggy but utterly wrapped in his care, slid off the counter and into the water. The warmth immediately made her sigh, her body relaxing.

Lewis knelt beside the tub, reaching for a cup to gently pour water over her shoulders. “Better?” he asked softly.

She let out a small hum, leaning her head back slightly. “Much.”

Lewis smiled, brushing damp strands of hair away from her face. “Good. You just sit back and let me do the work, okay?”

Lewis didn’t stop at just running her a bath of course.

Without hesitation, he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside before unbuttoning his jeans and stepping out of them.

Y/N blinked, her sleepy gaze sharpening slightly as she watched him. “Uh… what are you doing?”

Lewis smirked, stepping into the tub behind her. His muscles relaxed instantly as the warm water enveloped him, and he let out a quiet sigh before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest.

“As i said, I'm taking care of my girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her damp hair. “Like she always takes care of me.”

Y/N melted against him, resting her head on his shoulder. She didn’t fight it—not really. Maybe she was too tired to, or maybe she just liked being held like this.

Lewis closed his eyes for a second, just breathing her in, before reaching for the soap.

As he lathered it in his hands and began to gently wash her arms, he couldn’t help but think back to all the times she had done this for him.

When he came home after brutal races, drained to the bone, his mind weighed down with the heaviness of bad weekends. When his body ached, when exhaustion clawed at him, when self-doubt threatened to creep in—she had always been there.

Running a bath for him. Massaging his tense shoulders. Holding him when he needed it, even when he didn’t say a word.

She had always known exactly what he needed.

Now, it was his turn.

“You’re always so good to me, baby,” he murmured as he ran the soapy water over her shoulders, his fingers kneading gently.

Y/N let out a small sound, barely awake, but he felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

Lewis smiled, trailing his hands down her arms. “So caring. So tender when I need it.” His voice was soft, full of admiration. “You’re my rock, love.”

She let out a tiny whimper, clearly flustered. “Lewis…”

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to her temple. “What? Just telling my girl the truth.”

She huffed, but he could feel her heartbeat against him, steady and warm.

Y/N shifted slightly in his arms, turning her head just enough to give him a pointed look. “No funny business, Lewis.”

Lewis chuckled, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Baby, I know how to get you all hot and bothered,” he teased, nuzzling into her neck.

“But this? This is not the time. I don’t want you to sneeze of all things when I’m inside you. That’s a major mood killer.”

She groaned dramatically before splashing water back at him in protest.

“Oi!” He laughed, shaking his head as the warm droplets hit his face. “See, now that’s just rude.”

She smirked sleepily. “Serves you right.”

Lewis only grinned as he reached for the shampoo bottle, squirting a generous amount into his palm. “Alright, alright, no funny business. Just me looking after the most important woman in my life.”

He ran his fingers through her hair, lathering the shampoo with gentle, slow movements. His fingertips pressed into her scalp, massaging in small, soothing circles.

Y/N let out a small sigh, melting into his touch.

Lewis smiled to himself. “Feels nice, huh?”

She hummed in response, eyes fluttering shut.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “That’s my girl.”

Lewis gently scooped a small cup full of water and poured it over her hair, watching as the suds slid down her long, damp strands.

The shampoo washed away in soft streams of water, and he couldn’t help but marvel at the way her skin glistened, the way she melted under his care.

“You’ve always been there for me, you know?” he murmured softly, his voice sincere.

“When I’m sick, when I’m exhausted, when I feel like I can’t go on… you’re always the one to look after me, to make sure I’m okay.”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of his hands in her hair. She smiled softly. “I do what I can.”

He smiled, brushing her hair out of her face. “Yeah, you do more than that. You’re always so damn good to me, my love.”

As he rinsed the soap off her body, his touch was slow, methodical.

He made sure every part of her was cleaned, moving down her arms, her sides, careful not to make her feel uncomfortable, just focused on how she deserved this kind of attention.

“You know, when I’m away, racing, and I’m exhausted… I miss this. I miss you. I miss the way you make everything better, without even trying.”

Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, her heart fluttering slightly. She looked up at him, but he was focused on rinsing the soap off, so she just watched him with soft affection.

“I'm not kidding when i say that you’ve always been my rock,” he continued, his hands now massaging the soap over her back. “When I don’t have the energy to pick myself up, it’s you. You’re the one who makes me feel like I can keep going.”

Her heart warmed, and she found herself flushing slightly under the tenderness in his words. “I don’t mind doing any of that,” she whispered softly. “I just want you to be okay.”

Lewis smiled at that, his fingers working carefully as he finished rinsing the soap off her body.

He then reached for the conditioner, lathering it through her hair gently.

His touch was light, not hurried, as if savoring every moment of getting to do this for her. “You deserve so much, Y/N. So much more than I can give. But I’ll do my best to make sure you know how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”

She was quiet, her heart full, but she could hear the sincerity in his voice. It made her eyes sting with emotion, though she blinked it away. “You don’t have to do anything, Lew. I just… I love you.”

He rinsed the conditioner out of her hair and cupped her face, his thumb brushing across her cheek. “I love you more than you know.” his voice sounded a bit raw as he says it, and he clears his throat as y/n smiles softly at him.

His heart aches in the best way possible because of course, of course she knows how he's feeling at the moment.

Thank you for bringing her to my life, god.

Lewis helped Y/N out of the tub, supporting her gently as she stood. The water had gone lukewarm, and he could feel the slight shiver in her as her feet met the cold tiles. With a soft chuckle, he scooped her up in his arms again.

She shivered slightly, letting out a small squeal when he set her down on the big counter, her legs dangling off the edge.

"My ass is freezing!" she complained, her bare skin immediately feeling the cold of the counter.

Lewis laughed, wrapping a towel around his waist as he reached for another towel to dry her hair. “You're being dramatic,” he teased.

She pouted, not having much energy to argue back, as she let him gently rub the towel through her wet hair.

When he took the towel away, she shook her head furiously like a dog, sending water droplets flying everywhere.

Lewis chuckled and gave her a playful smirk. "You're no better than Roscoe, you know that?"

Y/N squinted at him. "What does that mean?"

"Just reminded me of him,” he said with a grin, “Shaking water all over the place like it’s his job."

She laughed softly at that. Lewis smiled, giving her another fond look. “Speaking of Roscoe, where is he?”

“He's in the guest room," Y/N explained. "I didn’t want him messing with anything since I couldn’t clean up. But he's a good boy. He knows how to behave most of the time. He’s probably asleep after coming for cuddles last night.”

Lewis smiled, feeling warmth in his chest. "Thanks for looking after him. I know he’s got you wrapped around his little paw."

Y/N just shrugged, her expression soft. "He's my baby, too. Of course, I'm going to look after him, even when I'm sick."

He laughed, then gently wrapped a bathrobe around her and then himself, before lifting her up once more. "Alright, let's get you into the bedroom. You’re freezing."

_______________________

Lewis placed Y/N gently on the vanity chair, her fluffy bathrobe pooling around her as she leaned back against him. Standing behind her, he reached into one of the drawers, pulling out the hair dryer. He flicked the switch—nothing.

Frowning, he turned it toward her, the nozzle aimed at the back of her head, and smacked the back of it a few times.

With a sudden whoosh, it roared to life, sending a gust of hot air straight to her head and blowing all her damp hair forward.

Y/N let out a startled squeal, her laughter bubbling up immediately. “Lewis! Oh my god!” she exclaimed through giggles, trying to push her hair back.

He started laughing too, his chest shaking against her back. “Well, at least we know it works,” he said, still amused.

She tried to glare at him through the mess of hair but ended up laughing even more. “You did that on purpose!”

“Me? Never,” he said, grinning as he finally angled the dryer properly and ran his fingers through her hair to smooth it down.

She let out a content sigh as he worked, but after a moment, she said, “I don’t need the whole salon treatment. I can style it and put products in later.”

Lewis hummed thoughtfully, still running his fingers through her strands as he dried them. “Or... you could let me braid it.”

She tilted her head up to look at him in the mirror, raising a skeptical brow. “You? Braid my hair?”

He smirked. “Don’t underestimate me, baby. I’ve got skills.”

Her lips twitched, fighting a smile. “Oh, this I have to see.”

Y/N hummed softly as Lewis ran his fingers through her hair, parting it into sections.

The warmth of the hair dryer had left a comforting heat lingering on her scalp, and his touch was gentle as he worked.

Lewis recognized the melody almost instantly. His lips curled into a small smile as he listened, fingers moving carefully to weave the strands together.

Then, without thinking, he started singing along, his voice soft and low.

Y/N’s humming stuttered for a moment before she smiled. “You know this song?”

“Of course,” Lewis murmured, focusing on the braid. “You sing it all the time.”

She chuckled, leaning back into him a little more. “Guess you do pay attention.”

“Always,” he said simply.

The room was quiet except for their voices, blending together in an easy harmony. It wasn’t perfect—sometimes she hummed where he sang, and sometimes he mumbled lyrics he wasn’t entirely sure of—but it was theirs. The kind of peaceful moment that didn’t need to be anything more.

Lewis glanced at their reflection in the mirror. Y/N, warm and relaxed in her robe, her head tilted slightly as she let him braid her hair, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion but content.

And him, standing behind her, their robes soft against each other, hands weaving through her strands with a care that spoke louder than words.

He smiled to himself.

This is home.

A sudden, loud growl interrupted Lewis’s thoughts, and he blinked before realizing exactly where it had come from.

Y/N’s face turned red instantly.

Lewis burst out laughing. “Oh My god, babe—”

“Shut up,” she whined, burying her face in her hands. “I’m hungry, okay? It’s not funny to laugh at your starving girlfriend.”

He grinned, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of her head. “You’re right. It’s not funny at all.” But the way his shoulders still shook betrayed him.

She huffed.

After finishing up her braid, he gently pulled the end to tighten it before admiring his work. “Not bad, huh?”

Y/N reached up, running her fingers along the plait, and gave him a small nod. “I’ll give you an 8 out of 10.”

“Eight?” he gasped dramatically. “That was at least a nine point five.”

She giggled, but before she could argue, Lewis slipped his arms under her and lifted her off the chair.

She gasped a little in surprise, her hands flying to his shoulders.

He lived for that sound.

“Why are we leaving the room?” she asked, her voice suspicious as he carried her towards the door.

Lewis smirked. “Because I need to feed my girl.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly before she gestured between them. “Lewis. We are both naked under these.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So what baby, who’s gonna see us?”

She grumbled something under her breath but didn’t protest as he carried her straight to the kitchen, setting her down gently on the counter. The cold surface made her shiver, but she said nothing as she watched him move around, grabbing ingredients.

She pulled her robe tighter around herself. “You’re really making soup from scratch?”

Lewis glanced over his shoulder with a playful grin. “Only the best for you, love.”

As Lewis moved around the kitchen, gathering ingredients and setting up the pot, he felt Y/N’s gaze on him.

When he glanced at her, she was just sitting there, legs swinging slightly, watching him with the softest, most adoring smile.

It did something to his heart.

It wasn’t the first time she’d looked at him like that, but every single time, it hit him just as hard. Like falling in love all over again.

His hands stilled. A sudden, overwhelming wave of emotion crashed over him.

Without a word, he turned and walked back to her, stepping between her legs, wrapping his arms around her waist, and burying his face into the curve of her neck.

His hold on her was firm, almost desperate, like he was afraid to let go.

Y/N blinked, surprised by the sudden embrace. “Lewis? Baby?” she murmured, tilting her head slightly to look at him. “What’s happening, my love?”

He just held her tighter, his breath warm against her skin. “I just love you,” he whispered, voice rough, almost raw. “A lot.”

There was no hesitation from her. No questioning or teasing. She simply wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in just as tightly.

Her lips pressed gently to the top of his head, "I love you more than words can express" her voice was soft, tender and all he needed in that moment.

Lewis exhaled, his body relaxing against her.

This was home. This was safety. This was her.

Just as Lewis was sinking into the warmth of her embrace, feeling like he could stay there forever—

Y/N suddenly sneezed right into his hair.

He froze.

She sniffled. “Oh my god.”

And then Lewis laughed, the deep, joyful sound echoing through the kitchen. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his grin wide. “Really, baby?”

She groaned, covering her face. “I told you I was sick.”

Still chuckling, he wiped at his hair dramatically. “Yeah, but we were having a moment.”

She pouted, sniffling again. “I ruined it, didn’t I?”

Lewis shook his head, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Nah,” he murmured, smiling against her skin. “Still gonna be one of my favorite moments.”

_________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

If you liked this story please leave a like a comment and a reblog!

Wrote this because I'm in the ER ( fainted), and I have literally nothing to do, the reports will come later, so I'm just waiting, and I saw this request form an anon, and I was like, why not, anon requested for it to be a slightly open kind of ending. Hope you all liked this. Idk what's wrong with me, but hopefully it's all good and nothing too horrible.

Jules♡

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CS55— destino

⊹ You can translate it here

⊹ Tags: short, love at first sight, destiny

⊹ I'm thinking about writing a series about this but im not sure

No era secreto que la vida de Carlos había sido un torbellino de sentimientos y hechos que todos parecían tener más claro que él y quizás eso era lo que le molestaba de lo que estaba sufriendo.

Desde que le dieron la noticia de Ferrari, se encontraba en una constante confusión. Y probablemente esa también era la razón por la que se había olvidado del cumpleaños de su hermana.

No tenía mucho tiempo de sobra. Y en realidad, debía comprar el regalo de camino a la casa de su hermana. Según lo que le había comentado su padre—luego de haberlo retado—su hermana había estado muy interesada en un libro de cocina.

Guiado por el gps llegó a una librería en una calle bien concurrida, bajó de su auto casi corriendo y entró por la puerta de cristal y madera haciendo sonar de esa manera a la campanilla que colgaba del techo. Caminó a pasos agigantados hasta llegar al mostrador, donde una chica sonriente lo recibió.

—¿En qué puedo ayudarle?

Carlos ni siquiera tuvo que tomarse un segundo para contestar con el nombre del libro y de la autora, cuyo apellido apenas podía pronunciar. Y en cuanto la señorita fue al depósito a buscarlo, el pelinegro respiró profundamente. Relajado lo suficiente como para apoyarse en el mostrador y mirar a los detalles del local. No había gran cosa, estanterías, libros, carteles y entre todos ellos una cabellera enrulada. Fueron segundos enteros en los que no pudo apartar la vista. Frunció el entrecejo, buscando algo que cortara su curiosidad. Pero lo que encontró, en cambio, cortó su respiración.

Ojos marrones, pestañas largas y un brillo que solo ella podía tener. Sin su permiso, su mano derecha empezó a temblar, el oxígeno cada vez era más difícil de conseguir y su cabeza estaba más clara que nunca a pesar de estar viviendo una tormenta. Por primera vez en un tiempo estaba seguro, que incluso si no la conocía, moriría para que lo mirara un segundo.

—Disculpe señor, ¿no va a contestar?—perplejo por lo que su cuerpo estaba manifestando fue sorprendido por la voz de la empleada que lo veía que con las cejas levantadas y una sonrisa, tardó un segundo en darse cuenta de que su celular estaba sonando. Mientras buscaba su celular en su bolsillo le pidió a la chica que por favor envolviera el libro para regalo. Y sin poder evitarlo volvió su mirada a la chica de los rulos.

—Carlos, ¿dónde estás?—La voz de su padre se escuchó por el teléfono.

—En camino, papá.

—Ya están todos aquí, haz rápido.

La chica terminó de envolver el libro y Carlos extendió el dinero, despidiéndose con un movimiento de mano.

—Ya estoy por llegar, papá—se estaba poniendo nervioso y cuando llegó a estar lo suficientemente cerca de la puerta destino una última mirada hacia la chica con la diferencia que esta vez los ojos le devolvieron la dirección, mirándolo con cierto destello de asombro. Su corazón se detuvo y retomó sus movimientos ferozmente mientras escuchaba a su padre nombrándolo múltiples veces. En ese instante, se consumieron el uno al otro.

—¡Carlos!

Como si su corazón estuviera por estallar salió rápidamente de la tienda conteniendo su deseo de mirar atrás.

—Ya terminé, en un momento estaré ahí papá.

Carlos se aferró al volante con fuerza, le costaba tragar y estaba manejando en automático. Se preguntaba si ella también había sentido la conexión, si le había afectado tanto a ella como a él.

Retirement and a Failed Proposal

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

✯ pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none ✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

She and Seb had a history—complicated, very complicated. Both now retired drivers, both multiple-time world champions, both stubborn, both competitive, both once lovers, both once rivals, both once acquaintances, and both lovers once again. She had just retired, and it was that, the culmination of her F1 career, that almost signified the end of her dispute with Seb. And she hadn't forgotten him, at all. And he hadn't forgotten her, at all. He was two years retired by now. It was picking things up from the sparks, not the ashes. 

The stars above seemed impossibly bright, their reflection shimmering across the gentle waves of the Mediterranean. The sailboat rocked softly beneath you, a quiet rhythm to the vast stillness around. She was leaned back against Seb’s chest, his arms loosely wrapped around her as the two of them sat on the deck.

It had been a peaceful evening, just the two of them, reminiscing and sharing moments that felt suspended in time. His presence was so natural, as if those years of tension, heartbreak, and rivalry had never been.

Sebastian shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You know,” he began, his voice low, almost hesitant, “these past few months have felt… different. Like I finally have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

She smiled softly, turning her head to look at him. “You’re not too bad for a washed-up driver,” she teased, earning a quiet laugh from him.

But then his expression changed, the humor fading into something more serious, more intense. “I mean it,” he said, his eyes locked onto hers. “For years, I tried to move on, to convince myself that I didn’t miss you, that I didn’t need you. And then you retired, and it felt like the universe was giving us another chance. And now, I don’t want to waste it.”

She blinked, her heart skipping as he gently untangled himself from she and reached into his pocket.

“Seb…” she started, but the words caught in her throat as he pulled out a small velvet box.

He opened it, revealing a simple yet stunning ring that glinted under the starlight.

“I know this might seem fast,” he said, his voice steady despite the flicker of nervousness in his eyes. “But I’ve known for a long time what I want. It’s you. It’s always been you. Will you marry me?”

For a moment, she just stared at him, her mind racing. The love she felt for him was undeniable, and being with him again felt like coming home, the home she's been away from for too long. But it had only been three months since they’d reconnected, since you’d started to rebuild something from the sparks that had never really died.

“Seb,” she said softly, her hands reaching for his. “I… I love you. I love she so much. But this feels rushed. It’s been three months. We’re still finding our footing again.”

His expression faltered slightly, but he nodded, listening intently.

“I want to be with you,” she continued, “but we’ve been through so much. I don’t want to jump into something this big without being sure we’re ready. We owe it to ourselves to do this right.”

Seb exhaled slowly, a small, understanding smile tugging at his lips. He closed the box and set it aside, taking her hands in his.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I got ahead of myself. It’s just… being with you again feels so right, so easy, and I didn’t want to lose that.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” she assured him, squeezing his hands. “We have time, Seb. Let’s take it.”

He nodded, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers. “Okay. No pressure, no rushing. Just us.”

“Just us,” she repeated, a smile breaking through.

The stars continued to shine above, the sea calm beneath, and as Seb pulled her into a warm embrace, she felt the weight of the moment lift. The ring could wait; her love wasn’t going anywhere.

Seb pulled her closer, resting his chin atop her head as the two of she sat in the embrace of the quiet night. His arms wrapped securely around you, the warmth of his body contrasting with the cool sea breeze.

After a moment of silence, his voice broke through, low and teasing. “Alright, no wedding yet. But… what about a child?”

She tilted her head back to look at him, narrowing her eyes. His lips were curved into that familiar, mischievous grin that always made her heart flutter, even when she wanted to roll her eyes.

“Sebastian,” she said, a warning laced in her tone, though her lips twitched with amusement.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence, his grin widening. “I mean, if marriage is too rushed, surely we could—”

She cut him off with a soft nudge to his side, eliciting a laugh from him.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“But you love me,” he shot back, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple.

She let out a small huff, her mock exasperation melting into a soft smile. “Yes, I do. But don’t push your luck, Vettel.”

Seb chuckled, pulling her closer again. “Fine, fine. No babies, no weddings. Just us.”

“Exactly,” she said, resting her head on his chest. “Just us. For now.”

His arms tightened around her as the sailboat swayed gently, the night wrapping around the two of them like a cocoon. And at that moment, with the stars above and the calm sea below, it felt like enough.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

✯ authors note: This is my very first fic!!! English is not my first language and the story is a lil corny, I know. I hope you liked it <333

Challenge de Escritura

Pelea

si quieres leerlo en ao3

Naeve y Kylo, la pareja que el reino respetaba y adoraba. Quienes se amaban con profundidad, y guiaban a sus súbditos con respeto, no siempre fueron una pareja comunicativa, aunque esos tiempos quedaron atrás y la gente se había olvidado lo que era escuchar a los Reyes gritar. 

—¡Al menos deberías cuidarte a ti misma!

—¿Y qué quieres que haga?—exclamó Naeve moviendo los brazos—¿Que abandone mis responsabilidades por unos rasguños? No seas ridículo, Kylo. Tu no dejas tu puesto incluso si te han acuchillado.

—¡Pero yo soy un soldado, Naeve!—Kylo pasó su mano por su pelo suspirando y apoyándose en la cama—Además, no es eso lo que me molesta. 

—¿Entonces qué es? Porque no te entiendo y en serio estas frustrándome—Naeve puso sus brazos en su cintura con el ceño fruncido. El silencio de su esposo la hizo resoplar—Bien, me voy. No voy a aguantar tus actos de niño caprichoso. 

Naeve camino hacia la salida de la habitación, acomodándose la ropa abrió la puerta chasqueando la lengua, con una presión en su pecho, odiaba cuando Kylo la hacía ser la víctima. Su cuerpo fue agarrado por detrás apenas cruzó un paso al corredor, y la puerta fue cerrada en un estruendo. La joven terriblemente enojada empezó a golpear al hombre, que ni siquiera emitió un sonido, era un soldado fuerte pero Naeve no quería admitirlo en ese momento. 

—¡Suéltame, ya no quiero hablar contigo!—golpeó con su codo las costillas de Kylo, e intentó liberarse pero este hizo que ambos se tiraran a la cama en un movimiento ridículo para un soldado, rápidamente Kylo agarró las frazadas caras de la cama matrimonial y envolvió a Naeve en ellas. 

—Entonces, hablaré yo—los brazos de su esposo no la dejaban ni moverse—Amor, no puedo sentirme tranquilo si sé que no confías en mí para decirme si te lastimas. Sé que no puedo protegerte siempre, y sé que tampoco me dejarías hacerlo. Sin embargo, no puedo evitar sentirme ansioso si tengo que descubrir que estas lastimada por una simple casualidad. 

Kylo no solia ser tan detallista en expresar sus sentimientos, sin embargo, esos ojos oscuros que brillaban con súplica le aguaron el corazón. 

—Maldita sea, Kylo—Naeve cerró los ojos—¿No podías decir eso antes de que me enojara tanto? Ahora me siento mal por ocultarlo. 

—Lo siento—susurró su esposo abrazándola aun cubierta con las mantas. 

—Sin embargo, te lo hubiera dicho si no actúaras como si fuera a darte un paro cardíaco cada vez que ves una gota de mi sangre.