Last Night I Was Watching Esperanza Mia (an Argentinian Show) And The Plot Is So Good For A Fic

Cuando no dices ❛ Te amo ❜.

──────────────────────── este escrito es de mi pertenencia. ninguna advertencia. seventeeen ot13. soft & fluff.

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(🐚) choi seungcheol.

SeungCheol ya se había preparado para ir al gimnasio cuando iba a salir de la habitación, acercándose hacia ti para dejar un beso en tus labios y despedirse. — Regresaré pronto, te amo — Dijo, inclinándose sobre tu figura recostada en la cama, dejando varios besos en tus labios.

— Está bien, cariño — Fue lo único que respondiste, teniendo la intención de jugarle una broma que habías visto en Internet la noche anterior. Tu novio se dió media vuelta y repitió el "Te amo" esperando escuchar una respuesta, sin embargo, ver que te quedaste callada hizo que se detuviera.

— Bebé, te dije que te amo, ahora dilo — Se dió media vuelta, regresando a la cama y recargándose sobre ti, causándote risas por su intensa mirada. — Dilo — Pidió suavemente, besando tus labios.

— Te amo —.

— Así me gusta — Dejó un último beso en tus labios antes de salir de la habitación.

(🌊) yoon jeonghan.

JeongHan coloca una mano en su cintura, sosteniéndose de la puerta al mismo tiempo te miraba en el sofá, conteniendo tu risa. — ¿Qué acabo de decir? — Levantó una ceja, sabiendo que todo era un juego debido a que no pudiste resistirte a reír a causa de sus ojos expectantes que esperaban una respuesta.

— Que irías a la tienda de convivencia, ¿No? — Fingiste no saberlo, riendo a carcajadas apenas viste como puso sus ojos en blanco.

— He dicho que te amo — Repitió, dando unos pasos hacia ti y deteniéndose en frente tuyo, queriendo evitar sonreír.

— Yo también te amo — Contestaste con una sonrisa finalmente, logrando que JeongHan se fuera tranquilamente hacia la tienda de convivencia.

(☀) hong joshua.

Joshua se detiene en medio del pasillo cuando no te escucha responderle, durando unos segundos allí de pie mientras pensaba en lo que pudo haber hecho mal. — Love, ¿Acaso hice algo mal? — Preguntó con el rostro de preocupado al mismo tiempo que se daba vuelta y se acercaba hacia ti.

Tu novio podía ser tan irresistible, que no pudiste soportar el hecho de que te mirase de esa forma, por lo que, la broma no duró tanto.

— No hiciste nada malo, solo estaba jugando — Aseguraste con una sonrisa, plantando un suave beso en sus labios.

Joshua asintió. — Está bien, pero dilo de nuevo —.

— Te amo —.

(🐚) wen junhui.

Jun estaría tan confundido, dejaría de observar su teléfono luego de haberte dicho que te ama de repente y no hubieses contestado. Ambos se encontraban en el sofá entre montones de mantas, sin embargo, el silencio había sido interrumpido por la inesperada confesión de amor de tu novio.

— Cariño, te dije que te amo — Repitió, algo confundido. Tú parecías algo distraída, así que lo miraste finalmente una vez sostuvo tu mano y la acarició con delicadeza. — ¿Sucede algo? ¿Te sientes mal? —.

No pudiste evitar sonreír, negando con tu cabeza. — Yo también te amo, Junnie — Y ahí fue cuando lo viste sonreír de la forma más dulce.

(🌊) kwon soonyoung.

Todos conocemos a SoonYoung, por ende, sería un total drama no oírte contestarle.

— ¿Por qué? ¿Por qué no me respondes? — Decía mientras te seguía por toda la casa, sin importarle que estuviese llegando tarde al trabajo, simplemente quería escucharte decirlo. — Te dicho que te amo — Habló nuevamente, logrando que te detuvieras en medio del pasillo.

Te diste media vuelta. — Te amo — Respondiste, riendo a carcajadas en el instante que viste su rostro de emoción y lo abrazaste. Aún así, eso no lo tendría totalmente satisfecho debido a que durante el resto día, te llamaría varias veces solo para que le dijeras que lo amas.

(☀) jeon wonwoo.

WonWoo no está acostumbrado a decirte "Te amo", por tanto cuando ambos estaban en la sala, cada quién ocupado haciendo lo suyo en total silencio, su repentina confesión te tomó muy desprevenida, tanto que ni siquiera sabías que decir.

Giraste tu rostro apenas lo escuchaste decir aquello a lo bajo, sorprendida. WonWoo volvió a hacer lo que estaba haciendo luego de notar que te quedaste en silencio, internamente pensando que no dirías nada más, no obstante, también le toma desprevenido lo que dices.

— Yo también te amo —.

(🐚) lee jihoon.

A JiHoon no le molesta sino le respondes, no es como si decir que amas a alguien fuese algo de no tanta importancia, pero te conocía y sabía que a veces te costaba mucho más que a él decirlo, por lo que estaba un poco acostumbrado a no recibir una respuesta.

— Te amo — Soltaste de la nada cuando estabas sentada en una esquina de su estudio, llamando su atención. JiHoon se remueve los audífonos con los que estaba escuchando una pieza, girando sobre su silla para verte con una sonrisa en el rostro.

— ¿Qué dijiste? — Preguntó, alzando una ceja.

— Que te amo — Repetiste y lentamente pudiste ver como sus ojos se achicaban debido a la gran sonrisa en su rostro.

(🌊) lee seokmin.

SeokMin sería un poco sensible, pensaría que había hecho algo mal cuando no le habías respondido aquella noche que estaban hablando en la cama, así que en el momento en que te dijo que te amaba, ya te encontrabas durmiendo profundamente y él ni siquiera se había dado cuenta de ello, por ende, a la mañana siguiente tuviste que despertarte junto a un novio preocupado y con los ojos brillantes.

— Te amo mucho — Confesaste mientras reías, ya que el solo pensar que había dormido imaginando que estabas enojada con él y lo habías ignorado cuando solamente te habías dormido, te daba gracia.

(☀) kim mingyu.

Sería igual de dramático que Hoshi, lo que te haría reír por su actuación. 

Lo viste quedarse paralizado en frente de la puerta, estando a punto de salir a pasear en su bicicleta, girando su cabeza al instante. — Amor, ¿No escuchaste? Dije que te amo — Habló, acercándose hacia la cama y tomando asiento a un lado, cruzando sus brazos y observando hacia la pared.

— No me iré hasta que lo digas — Aseguró, escuchándote reír y una vez que terminaste de ello, te miró, esperando una respuesta.

— Te amo — Dijiste finalmente, viendo como una gran sonrisa se asomaba en su cara hasta que inclinó y dejó un beso en tus labios.

(🐚) xu minghao.

Ambos se encontraban regresando de una cita romántica mientras tu novio manejaba con una sola mano y con la otra sostenía tu mano, dejando un beso en tus nudillos y susurrando un "Te amo" a lo bajo.

El silencio inundó el carro y mordiste tus labios fuertemente para evitar sonreír, sintiendo como te miraba varias veces antes de enfocar su atención en la carretera otra vez. — ¿Hice algo mal? — Fue lo único que tuvo que decir para que no pudieras continuar con tu broma, teniendo que explicarle inmediatamente.

— Bien, ahora dilo — Pidió suavemente, sonriendo al instante cuando te escuchó decirlo.

(🌊) boo seungkwan.

Pertenecería al combo de los dramáticos y de forma descarada, debido a que estaba pasando por la cocina y te dijo que te amaba, esperando que le respondieras y aún si estabas a espaldas de él sentada en el sofá, no pudiste contener tu risa apenas sentiste como se acercó hacia ti por detrás y tocó tu hombro.

— Disculpa, pero te acabo de confesar mi amor, ¿Sabes? — Te observa, cruzando sus brazos, sin embargo no le das respuesta. — ¿No lo vas a hacer? Bien, da igual — Dijo y se dió media vuelta.

Durante el resto del día, trataría de ignorarte por completo, pero su misión fracasaría en el momento en que te acurrucas junto a él y le dices que lo amas.

(☀) chwe hansol.

Silenciosamente se confunde y se desconcierta un poco cuando no le contestas, no obstante, tampoco hace un espectáculo por ello, simplemente le hace bastante raro que no le hayas contestado, así que cuando te está ayudando a lavar los trastes y le dices "Te amo", decide mantenerse callado, pero no puede ocultar la sonrisa que se asoma en su rostro y se acerca hacia ti, dejando un beso en tu mejilla.

(🐚) lee chan.

Tu silencio sin respuesta le hace pensar que hizo algo mal, por lo tanto, suspiraría y tomaría tus manos entre las suyas, preguntándote al respecto. — Estás enojada, ¿No? — Dijo, sintiéndose culpable por lo que sea que haya hecho, pero no puedes resistirte ante su rostro de preocupación y lanzas sobre él en un abrazo.

— Yo también te amo, solo estaba jugando — Le explicas, dejando múltiples besos en sus labios que causan que sus mejillas se sonrojen.

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© consume_cs. todos los créditos me pertenecen. no se permiten copias ni traducciones.

09. Alguno se enferma

' ao3 — '

Naeve sin duda estaba feliz cuando Kylo volvió de la misión a salvo, era pleno invierno e incluso con las mejores ropas sabía lo peligroso que era estar al descubierto por semanas. En la noche del reencuentro, durmieron calentitos y cómodos en su cama, disfrutando de la presencia del otro. En la madrugada, Naeve empezó a sentir calor en lo que se estaba apoyando, se despertó confundida y lo primero que vio fue el cuerpo de Kylo semidesnudo lleno de sudor. Aun estaba incociente, asi que saco los mechones de pelo negro que caian en la frente del soldado y apoyo su palma ahi, notando la alta temperatura que su cuerpo tenia.  

Antes de salir de la habitación, tapó con las mantas el cuerpo de Kylo. Se dirigió hacia la sala de curación del castillo, agarrando algunas hierbas y paños, y pasando por la cocina donde los primeros cocineros estabas preperando el desayuno y muy amablemente les pidió si podrían calentarle agua y hacer sopa. 

—Oh, ¿La señora Naeve cree que está por enfermarse?—preguntó preocupado el chef principal—Este invierno está siendo muy duro. 

Naeve sacudió su mano y negó. 

—No es para mi, gracias por la preocupación—agarro un set de té y la lleno con el agua hirviendo—Kylo tiene fiebre, así que por favor, cuando la sopa esté lista llevenla a la habitación. 

Todos en la cocina se quedaron en silencio y solo hicieron una reverencia cuando Naeve salió con la bandeja y los paños tibios. En realidad, era la primera vez que escuchaban que el Señor estuviera enfermo. Cuando Naeve volvió a la habitación, Kylo estaba saliendo de la cama con las rodillas flaqueando. 

—Kylo, ¿qué estas haciendo?—Naeve pregunto alarmada, apoyo la bandeja en la mesa mas proxima y a pasos rápidos invadió el espacio personal de Kylo, empujando suavemente el pecho del pelinegro para que volviera a sentarse—claro que él había cedido, porque si quisiera no se movería ni un centímetro, incluso en su condición.

—¿A dónde fuiste?—cuestiono Kylo levantando la mirada. 

—A buscar paños y agua caliente. 

—No vuelvas irte mientras duermo, porfavor—pidio Kylo apoyando su cabeza en el cuerpo de Naeve. 

—Tienes fiebre, no quería levantarte—explico—Ahora, ya sabes que estoy bien, vamos, vuelve acostarte, debes descansar muy bien. 

Kylo pareció reacio a esto aunque simplemente se dejó tapar por las mantas.

—No quiero descansar, quiero estar contigo. 

—Estas conmigo, mi amor—rio Naeve apoyando el paño en la frente del soldado. 

—Lo sé—murmuró Kylo cerrando los ojos—Quiero abrazarte y levantantarte, caminar por el jardín.  

—Cuando te mejores y las temperaturas sean cálidas iremos al jardin, mientras tanto te ofrezco mi amor a corta distancia—ofreció Naeve entrelazando sus dedos con los de Kylo—Mas pronto te recuperes, mas pronto me tendrás besandote. 

I want to write a alpha!anakin fic :(

Don't Blame Me | MV1

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Y/N would do anything for Max, even if it means falling from grace.

Warning(s): Mild Language, Minor character death, mystery, crime, y/n is a mob boss but I didn't specify that. Max supports his girl's rights and wrongs. This is like, my 'fuck you' to the new FIA regulations. I reccomend listening to Taylor Swift's " Don't blame me" it's heavily inspired.

"And baby, for you, I would fall from grace. Just to touch your face. If you walk away..I'd beg you on my knees to stay"

The lights of Las Vegas shimmered like scattered jewels against the dark Nevada sky, their glow reflected in the streams of champagne that had soaked the paddock. The grandstands were still buzzing as fans filed out, their chants and cheers echoing in Max’s ears even as he sat in the quiet solitude of his driver’s room.

He hadn’t changed out of his race suit yet—his gloves were tossed onto the couch, his helmet discarded on the floor beside his boots. His hands trembled slightly, a cocktail of adrenaline and raw fury coursing through his veins.

Max had been close—so close to securing his championship. With every lap tonight, he had felt it, tasted it, seen the finish line and the trophy. But it wasn’t the second-place finish that had soured his mood. No, it was what had happened after, live on international television, with millions of fans watching.

He’d sworn at an FIA official.

The memory burned like acid in his mind, replaying on a vicious loop. The moment had been fleeting—a frustrated curse muttered under his breath during the cooldown lap, caught on a hot mic. But in this sport, fleeting moments had consequences. The fallout had been immediate. As Max sat there now, scrolling through his phone, the headlines were already popping up.

“Verstappen’s Outburst: Will the FIA Penalize the Championship Leader?”

“F1 Star Caught Swearing at Official – Points Deduction Incoming?”

“A Championship in Jeopardy?”

He tossed his phone onto the table, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. He could still feel the weight of the Las Vegas heat, the oppressive pressure of the race, and now the heavy burden of his own temper.

The door opened softly, and he didn’t need to look up to know who it was. He would recognize her presence anywhere.

“Max?” Y/N’s voice was warm, soft, like the first rays of sunlight after a storm.

He glanced up, his breath catching for just a moment. She stood in the doorway, radiant as ever, her tailored black dress clinging to her figure with an elegance that made her look like she belonged in a royal court, not the chaos of the paddock. Her hair framed her face in soft waves, and her sharp eyes—the color of polished obsidian—seemed to cut straight through him, seeing everything he tried to hide.

Her beauty had always mystified him, but it wasn’t just that. There was something about her, something deeper, something he couldn’t quite name. It was the way she carried herself, with an effortless grace and a quiet authority that even the most powerful people respected. She was warm and affectionate with him, but beneath that, there was an edge—a darkness he couldn’t place.

But he loved her. He loved her fiercely, deeply, with every part of himself. And in moments like these, when the world felt like it was caving in, she was the only one who could steady him.

She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. The soft click of the latch felt final, sealing them in their own little world.

“You were amazing out there,” she said, her lips curling into a small smile as she approached him.

Max shook his head, his frustration boiling over. “Amazing doesn’t matter if I lose everything because of a stupid mistake. Did you see the headlines? They’re already talking about a points deduction.” His voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear beneath his anger.

Y/N knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his knee. Her touch was light, soothing, but her gaze was steady. “Max,” she said softly, “you need to breathe.”

“I can’t,” he snapped, though his voice lacked venom when he looked into her eyes. “I worked so hard for this, Y/N. They’re going to take it away from me over One. Stupid. Word.”

Her other hand came up, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Her touch lingered, gentle but deliberate, and Max felt his pulse quicken. She had that effect on him—always had. There was something intoxicating about her, something that made him feel like he was standing on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall but knowing she’d catch him.

“You’re not going to lose anything,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “Do you know why?”

Max let out a bitter laugh. “Why?”

“Because you’re Max Verstappen,” she said simply, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. “You don’t crumble. You don’t let anyone take what’s yours. And more importantly—” She leaned in, her lips brushing against his temple as she whispered, “—because I won’t let them.”

A shiver ran down his spine. There was something in her tone, something unshakable and resolute, that made his anger falter.

He pulled back slightly to look at her, his brow furrowed. “What does that mean, schatje?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

Her smile widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes. There was something almost predatory in the way she looked at him—a sharpness that made his chest tighten. “It means..you don’t need to worry about the FIA. I'm sure they’ll come around.”

Max stared at her, his mind racing. There it was again—that edge, that darkness he couldn’t define. He didn’t know everything about her, and sometimes that scared him. But as he looked at her now, at the fierce determination in her gaze, he felt something else: safety. No matter how mysterious or dangerous she might be, he knew she would never let anything happen to him.

“Y/N…” he began, but she silenced him with a kiss.

It was slow, tender, and yet there was an urgency beneath it, a fire that made him forget the chaos of the night. Her hands slid up to cup his face, and he leaned into her, his anger and fear melting away in her embrace.

When she pulled back, her lips were curved into that same enigmatic smile. “Trust me, my love,” she said. “Everything is going to be alright.”

He wanted to believe her. He did believe her. But as he watched her stand and move to the window, her silhouette framed by the neon lights outside, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew something he didn’t.

“What did you mean when you said you won’t let them?” he asked cautiously.

Y/N turned to face him, her expression soft again, though her eyes still held that unreadable gleam. “It means I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you,” she said simply.

Her words should have comforted him, but instead, they sent a strange thrill through him—a mixture of awe and unease. He had always admired her sharp mind and unwavering confidence, but now, for the first time, he wondered how far she would go for him.

He stood and crossed the room to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. She fit against him perfectly, her warmth anchoring him. “You’re incredible,” he murmured against her hair.

She tilted her head up to look at him, her smile softer now. “So are you,” she replied. “And you’re going to win this championship. No one can take that from you.”

He nodded, resting his forehead against hers. “As long as I have you, I’ll be okay,” he said quietly.

Y/N’s smile widened, but there was something almost mischievous in it. “Always,” she promised.

Max held her tighter, burying his face in her shoulder. He didn’t see the flicker of satisfaction in her eyes, the way her lips curved into something darker for just a moment before she kissed his cheek.

Whatever storm was coming, she would handle it. For Max, she would do anything.

______________________

The hotel room was dark except for the faint glow of the moon filtering through the sheer curtains, it was quiet. Max lay sprawled on the plush king-sized bed, his body turned toward the door.

Sleep had found him reluctantly, but even now, as the faint hum of the air conditioner filled the room, his dreams flickered with images of the track and the ever-present storm of pressure swirling around him.

The soft click of the door opening stirred him slightly. His brows furrowed, and his body shifted on the bed, muscles taut for a brief second before he relaxed again. It was her. Even through the haze of sleep, he knew it was Y/N. Her steps were light, deliberate, as though she were trying not to disturb him. After all, it was past midnight, everyone was supposed to be asleep.

Max cracked one eye open, catching a glimpse of her silhouette. She slipped into the room with the quiet grace he had always admired, her figure lit faintly by the moonlight. She closed the door softly behind her, the latch clicking into place. He didn’t move or say anything, caught between sleep and wakefulness, but he tracked her as she made her way to the bathroom.

The soft sound of water running reached his ears, and Max’s lips twitched into a faint, sleepy smile. Y/N always had her routines. No matter how late it was, she would wash up, cleanse the day away before joining him in bed. Tonight, he noticed, she moved a little slower than usual, her pauses lingering as though tired and lost in thought.

The bathroom light clicked off, plunging the room back into darkness. He heard her padded steps as she made her way to the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight as she slid under the covers, her movements careful to avoid waking him.

But Max wasn’t fully asleep. His eyes fluttered open slightly, just enough to catch the outline of her face as she settled beside him. The faintest scent teased his nose, and his mind stirred in curiosity. It wasn’t her usual perfume—the luxurious, rich fragrance she always wore. No, this was something softer, floral, almost sweet. It clung faintly to her, just enough to be noticeable.

He made a quiet noise in his throat, half-formed words lost to the haze of drowsiness. Y/N turned slightly, her head shifting on the pillow, her movements almost instinctive.

“Shh, baby, sorry I was late” she whispered, her voice a soft murmur in the dark. Her hand reached out, brushing lightly against his arm. “Go back to sleep.”

But Max, even half-asleep, couldn’t resist her presence. He shifted closer, his body seeking hers as if by instinct. His arm looped around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His face buried itself in the crook of her neck, and the faint floral scent washed over him again.

“You smell different,” he mumbled, his words slurred with sleep.

Y/N let out a soft laugh, almost too quiet to hear. “Do I?” she replied, her tone light and teasing.

Max hummed, his lips brushing against the delicate skin of her neck. He didn’t have the energy to press further, the pull of sleep too strong. Instead, he kissed her there, his lips warm and lingering, a quiet gesture of affection that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

Her body relaxed against his, melting into his embrace. Max felt her fingers trace light, soothing patterns on the arm draped across her waist. He sighed contentedly, the tension he hadn’t even realized he was carrying slipping away.

“I love you,” he murmured, the words slipping out before sleep finally claimed him.

Y/N didn’t reply immediately, but he felt her fingers pause for the briefest moment. Then, she leaned her head back slightly, her lips brushing against his temple.

“I love you Max, I would do anything for you, anything, now go to sleep baby” she whispered, her voice like a lullaby.

The room fell silent again, save for the soft sounds of their breathing. Y/N’s eyes remained open for a while, staring at the ceiling, her mind far away even as her body stayed still, slowly her mouth turned into a smirk, and her eyes closed.

____________________________

The golden light of the Qatari sun filtered through the sheer curtains of the hotel room, casting faint patterns on the walls. Max stirred in the plush bed, the weight of sleep still heavy on his limbs. His mind clung to the remnants of dreams, hazy and indistinct, as the soft hum of the city below began to creep into his consciousness.

A faint vibration buzzed from his bedside table, pulling him further from the depths of slumber. With a groggy exhale, Max reached for his phone, squinting at the screen. It was a message from his team’s media coordinator, brief and urgent:

"Turn on the news. Now."

Max frowned, the words igniting a flicker of unease in his chest. He tossed the covers aside and padded over to the television mounted on the wall. The room was still dim, the only light coming from the muted glow of the TV as he switched it on.

The screen came to life, and the familiar logos of international news outlets filled the frame. A grave-faced anchor was speaking, her voice carefully controlled yet tinged with the urgency of breaking news.

“—confirmed that a high-ranking FIA official was found dead in his home late after midnight. Preliminary reports suggest that the death may have been caused by poisoning, though authorities have yet to release an official statement. The substance identified appears to be a botanical toxin, indicating a possible case of premeditated murder…”

Max’s heart thudded in his chest, a cold wave of disbelief washing over him. Poison? Murder? It was surreal, the kind of news you’d expect in a crime drama, not in the high-stakes world of Formula 1.

The footage shifted to an image of the official’s residence, a sleek and modern house surrounded by police cars and investigators. The camera zoomed in on a bouquet of delicate white flowers being carried out in a plastic evidence bag. The reporter’s voice continued in the background, detailing the discovery of the toxin in the flowers.

Max ran a hand through his hair, trying to process what he was seeing. His thoughts churned, tangled and scattered. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, staring at the screen in disbelief, before the soft creak of the bedroom door drew his attention.

Y/N emerged, wrapped in a hotel robe, her damp hair draped over one shoulder as she used a towel to gently dry the strands. The scent of her freshly washed skin reached him, a subtle blend of soap and something warm, clean, and uniquely hers.

Her eyes met his, and she smiled, a soft and familiar expression that always seemed to ground him. She crossed the room with effortless grace, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. Her touch lingered for a moment longer than usual, as if sensing the weight of his thoughts.

“What’s got your face looking like that?” she asked, her voice still husky from sleep.

Max gestured toward the TV, his gaze fixed on her as she turned to look. The screen was now displaying a photo of the deceased official, alongside snippets of speculation from various commentators.

Y/N’s expression didn’t change at first. She tilted her head slightly, her brows drawing together in a faint show of interest. But Max noticed the tiniest flicker in her eyes—a glint of something he couldn’t quite place. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by her usual composure.

“Well,” she said, her tone light but thoughtful, “that’s… unexpected.”

Max’s jaw tightened. “Unexpected doesn’t even begin to cover it. Poisoned flowers? It sounds insane.”

Y/N turned to face him fully, her towel draped over her shoulder now. She placed a hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin in a gesture meant to soothe.

“Maybe it’s best not to get caught up in it,” she suggested. “It doesn’t concern you, does it? You have a race to focus on.”

Her words were reasonable, logical even, but they didn’t sit right. Max searched her face, his gaze lingering on the curve of her lips, the serene confidence in her eyes.

“You’re not even a little curious?” he asked, his voice low.

“Of course I am,” she replied, stepping back toward the bedroom. “But there’s nothing I can do about it, and neither can you. Come on, Max. You should start getting ready.”

Max nodded slowly, though his eyes remained on her as she disappeared into the other room.

_______________________________

The sun beat down mercilessly over the circuit, its glare reflecting off the freshly polished cars and shimmering asphalt. Max stood near the paddock, his sharp eyes scanning the bustling crowd. The day was a blur of activity, with team personnel darting about, fans crowding the stands, and journalists swarming for their next soundbite. But amid the chaos, Max’s mind was elsewhere.

He had been pulled into a whirlwind of media duties almost the moment he arrived, barely getting a moment to himself, let alone to find Y/N. The gnawing guilt was persistent—he hated not being able to see her before the day kicked into full gear. It had become a ritual for him, a grounding moment amidst the madness of race weekends. Y/N had a way of centering him, her presence a soothing balm against the constant pressure of being the reigning world champion.

He sighed, adjusting the cap on his head as he prepared for yet another round of interviews. His answers came out on autopilot—stock phrases about tire strategy, team confidence, and the race ahead—but his gaze flickered restlessly over the sea of people, searching. And then, finally, he saw her.

Y/N was weaving through the paddock with an easy grace, her movements unhurried despite the frantic energy around her. She wore a light summer dress that flowed around her like a whisper of wind, her hair catching the sunlight in a way that made her look almost ethereal. Max felt his chest tighten, his lips twitching into a smile before he even realized it.

There was something about seeing her like this—calm, at ease, untouched by the frenzy of his world—that made his heart ache in the best way. It was moments like these that reminded him why he loved her so deeply. She was his sanctuary, his constant in a life that often felt like it was spinning out of control.

She noticed him then, her eyes lighting up as their gazes met. She waved, her smile wide and genuine, and Max’s guilt faded, replaced by a warmth that spread through his chest.

She was here, and that was all that mattered.

But before he could excuse himself to meet her, a journalist called his name, snapping him back to reality. Max nodded in acknowledgment, forcing himself to focus as the interview began.

He was midway through answering a question about tire degradation when the reporter paused, pressing a finger to the earpiece in his ear. The change in his expression was immediate—his brow furrowed, his posture straightening as if bracing for impact.

“Excuse me,” the journalist muttered, turning away abruptly.

Max blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. “What’s going on?” he asked, but the man didn’t respond, already hurrying toward a group of FIA officials clustered nearby.

A loud chime echoed through the circuit, followed by an announcement over the PA system:

“Attention all personnel. The race has been postponed... All drivers are to return to their respective team garages..immediately.”

Confusion rippled through the paddock like a wave, whispers and murmurs growing louder as everyone scrambled to figure out what was happening. Max glanced around, his pulse quickening. This was unprecedented. Races didn’t just get postponed without an urgent reason.

He pushed through the throng of people, his eyes scanning for Y/N again. Relief flooded him when he spotted her standing near the Red Bull garage, her expression calm despite the chaos around her. She was waiting for him, her arms crossed loosely as if this were just another day at the track.

Max reached her in a few long strides, his hand immediately finding hers. Her fingers were cool against his, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as they joined the rest of the Red Bull team heading into the garage.

“What’s going on?” Max asked her, his voice low.

“I’m not sure,” Y/N replied, her tone even. “I heard that some cops were here, but no one seems to know the details yet.”

Max nodded, though his unease only grew. The garage was bustling with activity as team members huddled around monitors, trying to piece together what little information they had. The drivers from other teams were filing into their respective areas, their faces marked by the same confusion that Max felt.

As they stood in the corner of the garage, Max turned to Y/N, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over her knuckles. “Where were you earlier? I didn’t see you before the interviews.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. “I was just catching up with someone I knew from before,” she said, her words casual.

Max raised an eyebrow, curious. “Will you see them again?”

For a moment, she didn’t respond, her gaze meeting his with an intensity that made his heart skip a beat. Then, a small, satisfied smile curved her lips, and she shook her head. “No,” she said simply. “I don’t think I will.”

Her answer lingered in the air, heavy with an unspoken finality that Max couldn’t quite decipher, and before he can ask her anything, he hears a commotion from the hospitality.

Max glanced at Y/N, his brows furrowing. “What’s that about now?” he asked, already walking towards the noise.

“I’m not sure,” Y/N replied, as she followed him out of the room.

The noise grew louder as they approached the main lounge, and Max felt the muscles in his shoulders tense. People were rushing toward the large television mounted on the far wall, their voices overlapping in a chaotic hum. Engineers, PR officials, and even a few journalists stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their eyes glued to the screen.

Max nudged his way through the crowd, Y/N close behind him. His heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of the bold, all-caps headline plastered across the news ticker:

BREAKING: FIA PRESIDENT ARRESTED IN CONNECTION TO MURDER OF OFFICIAL.

The image on the screen was enough to stop him in his tracks. Mohammed Ben Sulayem, the FIA president himself, was being escorted out of a building in handcuffs, flanked by stern-faced officers. His usually composed demeanor was gone, replaced by wide-eyed panic as he struggled against the officers’ grip.

“What the hell is going on?” Max muttered, his voice barely audible over the din of the room.

The reporter on the screen continued, her tone grave:

“Sources within the investigation have confirmed that the death of a high-ranking FIA official last night was caused by poisoning. Specifically, a toxin derived from the flower known as Lily of the Valley. Evidence linking FIA President Mohammed Ben Sulayem to the crime was uncovered earlier this morning, leading to his immediate arrest. The FIA has announced that a new acting president will be appointed while a thorough investigation into internal corruption is conducted.”

Max stared at the screen, his chest tightening as the implications sank in. The FIA president—the figurehead of their entire sport—was being accused of murder. And not just murder, but something so calculated and premeditated that it involved the use of a rare, deadly toxin.

Beside him, Y/N remained unnervingly calm. She didn’t gasp or murmur like the others; instead, she stood silently, her gaze fixed on the screen. For a fleeting moment, Max thought he saw the faintest flicker of something in her expression—amusement, maybe, or relief. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by her usual unreadable calm.

Before Max could even begin to process the shocking revelation, the tide of the crowd surged toward the exit. A new commotion was building outside, drawing people out of the hospitality lounge in waves. Someone muttered something about seeing it live—seeing him live—and the collective curiosity became too much to contain.

“Max, let’s go,” Y/N said quietly, her voice steady amid the chaos.

He didn’t think twice. Reaching for her hand, he let himself be pulled into the stream of bodies flowing toward the paddock. The crowd was a cacophony of voices—questions, speculations, and disbelief tumbling over each other in an endless loop. Max clung to Y/N’s hand, weaving through the throng until they found themselves near the front of the growing mass of spectators.

As they pushed closer to the source of the uproar, Max’s stomach twisted at the sight before him.

Mohammed Ben Sulayem was being escorted out of the FIA headquarters, flanked by two grim-faced officers. But this wasn’t the composed, authoritative man Max was used to seeing. This man looked broken, almost unrecognizable. His usually impeccable suit was now crumpled and stained with sweat, his hair disheveled, his face a mask of panic and fury.

He was shouting, his voice hoarse and raw with desperation. “I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it! You’re making a mistake!”

Max tightened his grip on Y/N’s hand, his heart hammering in his chest. The scene was chaotic, surreal. Journalists shouted questions, their cameras clicking furiously as they tried to capture every moment. Paparazzi pushed against the security barriers, their lenses trained on the disgraced president.

Sulayem’s struggles only made him look more deranged. His eyes darted wildly, his movements jerky as he tried to pull away from the officers.

“You have to believe me!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “This is a setup! I didn’t kill anyone!”

The officers remained stone-faced, their grips firm as they led him toward a waiting car. The crowd around them buzzed with speculation, their voices blending into a chaotic symphony.

“He looks insane,” someone near Max muttered.

“Can you believe this? Poisoning? This is wild”

Max barely registered the words. His gaze was locked on Sulayem, his mind reeling. This was the man who had presided over the sport, who had wielded so much power and influence. And now he was reduced to this—a wild-eyed, shouting man in handcuffs.

Suddenly, Sulayem’s gaze snapped toward the crowd, his eyes scanning the faces as though searching for something—or someone.

And then he saw Max.

For a moment, time seemed to slow. Sulayem’s eyes locked onto Max’s, and his expression twisted into something primal—anger, desperation, and fear all rolled into one.

“You!” Sulayem shouted, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. “You don’t know! She’s crazy! She did this!”

Max’s breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t sure if Sulayem was even speaking to him specifically or just shouting into the void, but the intensity of the man’s gaze made it feel personal.

“She’s not who you think she is!” Sulayem screamed, his voice rising to a fever pitch. “She’s dangerous! She—”

The officers shoved him forward, cutting off his words as they guided him into the back seat of the car. The door slammed shut, muffling his continued shouting, and the vehicle began to pull away.

The crowd erupted into a frenzy, the sound of cameras clicking and voices shouting almost deafening. Max felt frozen in place, his mind struggling to process what he had just witnessed. Sulayem’s words echoed in his head, unsettling and inexplicable.

Beside him, Y/N’s hand tightened around his, grounding him. He turned to look at her, searching her face for… something. A reaction, an explanation, anything. But her expression remained calm, her gaze steady as she met his eyes.

“Let’s go,” she said softly, her tone gentle but firm.

Max nodded numbly, allowing her to guide him away from the chaos. But as they walked, Sulayem’s words continued to haunt him, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.

She’s not who you think she is.

____________________________

The hotel room felt like a cocoon of silence after the storm that had unfolded earlier in the day. It was as though the whole world had shifted, and everything outside these walls was just noise, a distant hum that barely reached their sanctuary. The soft, distant chatter from the streets of Qatar, the echoes of excitement and chaos from the track, were now muted as Y/N stood by the window, staring out at the city lights.

She had always been good at keeping her emotions in check, ever since she was young. The weight of the world had never felt heavy on her, because she had learned long ago how to let things slide off her, like water on a slick surface.

But today was different.

She could feel the pressure weighing on Max, could see how the events of the day were eating at him, gnawing away at the edges of his focus, his usual confidence. He was quieter than usual, his mind occupied by something far more unsettling than the drama that had unfolded.

Even after Christian had called to tell Max that the swearing ban had been lifted, and that his championship points would be reinstated, it had done little to cheer him. The smile that had stretched across Max’s face had been brief, barely a flicker before the weight of everything else crushed it again. His eyes, once vibrant with determination, were now dull and distant, fixed on something he couldn’t touch—something he couldn’t solve in the way he would his car’s setup, or the strategy for the next race.

The news of the race being postponed for another two weeks hadn’t helped either. Max hated downtime. He hated the uncertainty, the lack of control. The race was all that had mattered for so long, and now, with it taken from him, all that was left was space to think. And that was the last thing Max Verstappen needed—more space to overthink.

Y/N could see it in the way his hands clenched at his sides when he wasn’t paying attention, or how his jaw tightened when a thought seemed to hit him too hard. He was lost somewhere, and she wasn’t sure if he would ever find his way back.

She pushed herself off the window frame and walked over to where he sat on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him, but she knew he wasn’t really seeing it. He hadn’t been seeing anything for hours. His mind was somewhere else.

It was then, as if the universe aligned, that she knew. She could feel it in her bones—this was what he needed. She walked over to him without a word, the soft rhythm of her footsteps steady in the quiet room.

She knelt down beside him, letting her arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him close, burying her face against his neck.

The warmth of his skin against hers soothed the ache in her chest, the unspoken pain that had settled there ever since she had seen the look on his face during the arrest.

Max’s body tensed for a moment, his muscles rigid beneath her touch, before he relaxed into the embrace. She smiled against him, feeling his breath shudder slightly as he kissed the side of her neck, his lips pressing gently to her skin. His scent—clean, fresh, with a hint of something unmistakably Max—wrapped around her, grounding her.

She moved back, gently placing her hands on his face, urging him to look at her. When his eyes met hers, they were full of something unreadable. For a moment, his gaze lingered on her, searching her expression like he was trying to decipher something. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but she could see it—he was looking for a sign, something that would pull him out of the turmoil.

"Were you wearing a new perfume last night, when you came to bed? " His question is unsure, hesitant, as if he doesn't want to know the answer but he can't help himself.

"It's Lily of the Valley, one of my favourite flowers, I only use it for some occasions" she looks at him, waiting for him to react. Maybe this was it, he would push her away in disgust and alarm, and it all would've been for nothing.

The moment stretched, thick with unspoken words, and she waited. She wasn’t going to push him. He looked surprised, only for a brief moment and with another blink, the surprise was gone.

Then, as if a weight had finally lifted, his shoulders relaxed, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was fleeting, but it was there. The tension in his body dissolved just enough for him to pull her closer, his arms wrapping around her in a protective, almost desperate embrace.

Max held her tightly, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. His hands tightened around her, her's going to rest on his chest, but this time it wasn’t out of tension. It was something else—something raw, something that spoke of trust, of the shared understanding between them.

Max’s voice was low, rough, like he hadn’t spoken in too long, like he needed to say these words to her, but they had been stuck inside him for a while.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her forehead. His breath shuddered slightly as he said it, and she could feel the truth of it in every fiber of his being. It wasn’t just a declaration—it was a plea, a surrender. A quiet admission that, no matter what happened, no matter how hard things got, she was the one he held onto.

Y/N smiled softly, her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw, memorizing the feel of him, the warmth of his skin against hers. There was no hesitation in her touch. She knew, deep down, that she’d do anything for him. Anything to keep him close, to keep him safe, to keep him loving her the way he did.

“I love you so much, Max,” she whispered back, her voice thick with emotion. “So, so much.”

Her heart was pounding now, a steady rhythm that matched his own. She could feel it in the air between them, the undeniable truth of their love, the pull that had always been there, even in the darkest of moments. It was raw, it was real, and it was everything they needed.

She didn’t need to say it again. The words were unnecessary. Everything was in the way she held him, the way their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle that had been made for each other. In that moment, with the weight of everything else fading into the background, it was just them. Together.

Max’s hands tightened around her, pulling her closer, and Y/N closed her eyes, savoring the moment. The world could fall apart outside, and it wouldn’t matter. Because in that moment, Max was all that mattered. He always would be.

And as he kissed her temple, his breath warm against her skin, she knew—without a doubt—that she would do anything for him.

“Don’t blame me,” she thought, her own voice, soft but certain in her head. Love made me crazy. And if it doesn’t, you ain't doin' it right.

And she was doing it right. She always would.

Oh Lord, save me, my drug is my baby

I'll be usin' for the rest of my life

Usin' for the rest of my life, ohh-oh

________________________________________

Thanks for reading!

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

I'm dropping of the face of earth for some time, this is a small parting gift, I would like to make it clear I'm not planning any one's murder in my downtime. Thank you.

Jules♡

Taglist: @anamiad00msday @evie-119 @that-one-little-soybean @six-call @stressed-cherry @il0vereadingstuff @whatevenisthisxxxxx @freyathehuntress @nina-or-anna-or-nora @allthings-fandoms @larastark3107 @myescapefromthislife @wertyuizxcvbnm @halleest @hs2016 @lucyysthings @justaf1girl @bernelflo @mendes-bae @chelseyyouraverageluigi @llando4norris @sid-is-gr8 @henna006 @hurtblossom @quinquinquincy @ts1mp0ne @spidercat-soccerfan @kodzuvk @wherethefuckisthething @hellowgoodbye @prttylight

I feel sorry for not writing that much in eng 😭

Home ; Anakin Skywalker

@ Anakin Skywalker × Female!Reader

Summary: Reader runs away from home because of her parents' mental abuse, Anakin receives her.

Warning: Mental Abuse

Tags: Comfort, Confessions, Friends to Lovers

You can also read it in AO3!

Walking along the street, it looked like the sky was about to fall, the storm was strong, and your wet clothes made it difficult to advance. Some people were running under the rain, and others hid under the roof; you walked, how fast you were able. 

You were mentally tired, and even if you were freezing, it was so much better than staying in your parent's house. You knew the way to your comfort, to the person who could make you safe, and loved. At the end of the street, a little blue house highlighted among the others, your hands shaking, and your wet eyes weren't a barrier to knock on the door; at first, with a soft punch, but when no one answered, your desperation took control under your decisions. You heard the steps coming, and tried to straighten your hair; the door opened, letting you see him. 

Anakin was startled, his clothes were dirty and his face was stained with dust, but you were worse off. Your wet hair, red nose and eyes worried him immediately, wrapping his arms around and pulling you inside. 

“ Are you out of your mind? Don't you know how dangerous it is going out with this storm?” Anakin took off one of his clothes to cover you, his voice sounded like he was furious, you were aware that he was worried; he was always worried about you, and you also wanted to do something for him, but he never came to you to ask for a favour. His hands attempted to share some warmth, your skin was cold and the wet clothes did not help. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go'' Hearing your whisper, made Anakin understand. You didn't mean to put yourself in danger, you just wanted to escape. Anakin was aware of the problem that your parents represented, instead of being responsible for their own mistakes, they chose to responsibilize you for that. Mentally abusing you, every time they were stressed. 

He lent you some clothes, they were too big for you but the fabric was soft and a faint whiff of Anakin’s perfume, which instantly made you feel safe. R2D2 was there, next to you, you posed your hand on the top of his head. 

“Hi, R2” he made some happy robotic sounds causing your smile. Anakin entered the room checking if you were more calm than before, you noticed him and without stopping yourself you called him. Right away, your ears blushed. 

“ Sorry, I was just… Are you feeling better now? ” It was the first time that Anakin looked like this, shy or at least that was how you saw him. He wasn't shy, he was trying to hide his anger, his frustration for not being able to protect you from your parents. 

“ Yes, thank you for the clothes” you replied, settling down to get out of the bed. With a smile "Did I surprise you?”

Anakin leaned against the door frame.

“ A lot, actually. But I'm glad you came here” If you were close to him, he knew that he could protect you. “Is there something you want to eat?” 

Standing up you smiled kindly, Anakin's house was beautiful, it was comfortable but most of all it had Anakin in it; however no matter how kind he is, you could not abuse his time and space. 

“No, I think I should go to my house” The abuse of your parents, their words were strong, but that shouldn't mean that you should simply carry away yourself for your desires. You passed by his side. “ I will send you back these clothes, probably tomorrow after work. Sorry for annoying your evening”

“Annoying?” Anakin laughed stunned. “If I tell you I don't find you annoying, would you stay for dinner?”

You giggled nervously, his touch on your wrist and his words were a clarifying factor as to why your heart was beating so fast. You knew you were useless, that your feelings for Anakin were something that you could not allow yourself, that you should try harder for being enough. 

“ Anakin, really, I'm glad but-” 

“ If you’re glad, you should thank me accepting my proposing” 

Anakin was asking you for something, and you couldn't handle saying no to him. You were good at cooking, so you offered to do it, but Anakin was very persistent with the idea of him cooking. You and R2D2, were not convinced as much as him, promising to keep an eye on him, the result was good, and a much tastier meal than you had thought was served.

“ What did they say this time?” Suddenly Anakin asked in the silence of the dinner, since you didn't understand, he added “I mean, your parents, what did they say? “

“ Uh, nothing, they were angry and we fought” Trying to sound like you were fine, your eyes didn't direct towards him. 

“You fought…?” Anakin asked before fakely smiling. “If they are insulting, it's not a fight. Its abuse ”

Stupid, dumb bitch, useless, you're only a problem. 

“ No… I don't think it's like that” you murmured trying to convince yourself. You were aware that your parents weren't the best, or even kind. You felt hurt, unfortunately they were your parents, and no matter how much pain they do to you, hating them was so much harder than anyone could imagine. 

“ You don't deserve to be treated like this” Anakin affirmed with the confidence that you didn't have.  Anakin grabbed your hand, gently touching it. “Not even for your parents” 

His voice was sweet, giving you chills, your heart was weak. 

“ Anakin, you're kind and I don't deserve-” 

“ T/n don't even dare to say that, you're fantastic” Anakin breathed, he needed to ask for it “Stay this night” 

You didn't pretend to misunderstand his words. 

“ I like you, and I want to stay with you, I want to protect you” He added.

Maybe, there was nothing to misunderstand. He kneels down in front of you.  “Ani…” you were out of breath. “ I like you too ”

OKAY I made so much mistakes, remember spanish is my first language and im just learning english.

what do we think about poisoned reader who thinks its going to die so she confesses her feellings for anakin BUT THEN SHE DOESNT DIE and now has to confront jedis council AND OBIWAN'S JOKES

I just love the scenery of you and Anakin holding hands, like after a long time without seeing each other, you can't wait to go to a private place and touch his hand slyly you feel euphoric.

lando summer moodboard!!

"Will you still want to see me after the summer is over?"

"Are you kidding? You were the best thing that ever happened to my life, I would be a fool to let you go."

'summer love with lando' moodboard.

hope you enjoy it! 🧡

also, i'm so so sorry i've just realized i've attached this to your previous request rather than the one you were more specific :( but nonetheless, hope it met your vision!

ill be back in ten, okay?

Oscar Piastri x PCOS!reader

(low-key a part 2 to this, but can be read separately)

summary: oscar sneaks in to check on reader during a pcos flare-up.

warnings: pcos mention, chronic pain

A/N: (ive had this lined up since after ur last req and i’m posting it now) no one asked for this but this is my new favourite thing to write. so ENJOY :> i keep saying this but y’all if u’ve got requests for ANY driver, please, feel free to send them in. any scenario. i’ll try to make it possible. i love u, babies 🤙💋

⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘

you’re curled up on the motorhome couch with a hot pack pressed against your stomach and oscar’s hoodie swallowed around your frame. the pain has mostly dulled into a low throb, and now you’re just… tired.

the paddock noise hums outside, muffled behind the tinted windows, and you assume oscar’s back at work. qualifying starts soon. he’s probably in briefing.

you don’t expect the soft creak of the door.

you glance up.

he peeks in with the most ridiculous look — wide eyes, slight smirk, finger to his lips like he’s sneaking into a forbidden zone.

you raise an eyebrow. “aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“i am,” he whispers dramatically, slipping inside and shutting the door behind him. “i’m working on morale.”

you laugh quietly. “pretty sure your job is to drive the car, piastri.”

“i can multitask,” he says, crossing the room in four long steps. “and right now, the girl i love is wearing my hoodie and looking unfairly cute while recovering from a flare-up, so i had to intervene.”

he sits beside you, eyes shining, hands already reaching for yours.

“five minutes,” he says, holding up his hand. “then i’ll go back to being a professional athlete or whatever.”

you smile as he leans in, kisses you softly. it’s warm and slow, like he’s got nowhere to be — even though you both know he does.

you tug gently at the collar of his fireproof undershirt. “you taste like energy drink.”

“romantic,” he deadpans.

you giggle. “thanks for sneaking in.”

he kisses your cheek. “i’ll always sneak in for you.”

and when he finally stands to leave, he pauses in the doorway and turns back with a grin.

“might be back in ten. can’t promise anything.”

⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘