Could You Write Something For Cl16 Where It’s Halloween And They Do Gomez And Morticia Couples Costumes.

I can easily imagine Anakin learning sewing to make clothes to his partner

White Noise | MV1

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: [Soulmate AU] In a world where soulmate marks promise connection, one person’s endless wait collides with another’s relentless pursuit of a life beyond destiny.

Warning(s): Mild Language, Pining, mutual pining, they dance in a club, idk if the dancing can be considered steamy or not, cliff hanger.

Part 5 ~Series Masterlist~

"Show me you're shameless...write it on my neck, why don't ya? And I won't erase it....I need you more than I want to...need you more than I want to"

The music pulsed through the club, a deep, thumping bass that rattled the ice in his gin and tonic. It was loud, packed, and dimly lit—exactly the kind of place that should be drowning out every thought in his head.

Max leaned back against the booth, stretching out his legs, as he watched the drivers he came here with lose themselves on the dance floor.

Lando, Charles, Carlos, and a few others, moving easily under the flashing lights, too drunk on victory and alcohol to care about anything else.

He should be out there too, celebrating, letting the win from yesterday settle into his bones the way it used to.

Another Monaco win. More points in the championship. It almost felt like 2023 again, when he had the title in a chokehold, when everything was simple. When winning was enough.

But now—now, nothing was enough, without her.

He sighed, swirling the clear liquid in his glass before taking another sip. The gin burned his throat, crisp and bitter, but it didn’t do anything to settle the restlessness crawling under his skin.

And then—

The fucking pulse.

The glass nearly slipped from his fingers.

It started slow, a hum under his ribs, something deep and insistent. Then it grew, stronger, louder, vibrating through his bones. His heartbeat followed, pounding against his chest, his ears, his head.

He knew what this meant.

Max’s head snapped up, and his eyes locked onto her instantly.

Y/N.

She stood across the club, just beyond the bar, surrounded by people. But he only saw her.

She was...breathtaking. And he felt the breath leave his lungs in the heavy exhale he let out.

The lights caught the shimmer of her dress, the deep silver fabric clinging to her in all the right places, short enough to show off the length of her legs. Her dark smoky eyes made her gaze sharper, bolder, and her lips—red, the same shade that had been burned into his memory since the last time he saw her.

A pearl choker wrapped around her throat, delicate and elegant, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the soft skin just below it, where her pulse would be.

Beating just as fast as his.

Max was frozen.

Did she know he was here? Was she looking for him?

His grip on the glass tightened as he watched her friends bring her drinks, laughing, nudging her toward the dance floor. And then—

She danced.

And Max forgot how to breathe entirely.

Her body moved effortlessly with the music, the flashing lights illuminating her skin, the curve of her back, the way her dress rode up just slightly—enough to give him an anaphylactic shock— as she swayed to the beat.

She was magnetic, and it wasn’t just the bond—it was her. The confidence, the ease, the way she lost herself in the moment like nothing else mattered.

Max’s chest ached.

She was here.

Three weeks. Three fucking long weeks since she walked away from him. Three weeks of radio silence, of waiting, of not knowing.

And now, she was here.

Max was trapped between wanting to go to her and not knowing if he should.

Because she hadn’t come to him. She hadn’t looked for him.

She was here, but was she here for him?

The answer lay in the way her eyes flickered toward him in the middle of a spin, in the way her lips parted slightly when she caught him staring.

But she didn’t stop dancing.

Max clenched his jaw, setting his drink down. If she wasn’t going to come to him, then he would go to her.

Max was halfway out of his seat when he saw him.

The man.

Tall, dark-haired, well-dressed in that overly polished, moneyed way Max had learned to spot a mile away. The kind of man who walked into places like these expecting people to fall at his feet.

And right now, that man had set his sights on Y/N.

Max’s fingers curled into a fist on the table.

He didn’t like jealousy.

It was an ugly emotion, a useless one. It clouded judgment, made people reckless.

But as he watched the man get too close—leaning in, placing a hand on Y/N’s arm, tugging her just slightly toward him—Max felt it slither into his chest anyway.

Maybe this was his answer.

Maybe she wanted him to see this. Maybe she was showing him, without words, that she wasn’t available.

That she had made her choice.

His jaw clenched.

Fine. Fucking fine then.

If that was the case, he’d leave. He wouldn’t make this harder for her, for himself.

But then—

Y/N shifted, just slightly, just enough for him to see the change in her expression.

The annoyance, the sharp furrow of her brows. The tension in her shoulders. The way her hand curled into a fist at her side.

She wasn’t into him.

Max exhaled sharply through his nose.

If anything, she looked like she was five seconds away from breaking the guy’s nose.

And as much as Max wanted to see that, he figured he should probably step in—not to save Y/N, because she didn’t need saving, but to save the poor bastard from whatever wrath was brewing behind her clenched jaw.

Max moved.

He crossed the floor in a few easy strides, weaving through bodies, his focus sharp and singular.

The man had leaned in even closer now, saying something into her ear that made Y/N’s entire posture go rigid.

Max didn’t give him the chance to say anything else.

"Piss off." His voice was cool, his expression unreadable, but there was a sharp edge to his words that cut through the music.

The man blinked, turning toward him with a lazy smirk. “And who are you?

Max didn’t answer. He just stared, unblinking, something dark simmering in his blue eyes.

The man hesitated. Then he scoffed, lifting his hands in mock surrender before stepping back. “Whatever, man.”

Y/N exhaled, her jaw tight, and then—finally—her eyes met his.

The pulse between them roared.

Max felt it in his ribs, in his veins, in every inch of him. The sharp, unbearable ache of staying apart.

And then, as if the universe wanted to drive it home, the music shifted.

The pulsing beat melted into something slow, something sultry.

Max didn’t think. He just moved.

One step forward, his hands reaching for her before she could slip away again.

He felt the little gasp leave her lips as he pulled her against him, delighted in it, the warmth of her body pressed to his, the way she fit so damn perfectly in his arms.

Max exhaled, his head dipping just slightly toward hers.

"Just for one night," he murmured, voice low, almost pleading. "Pretend that we’re strangers. Forget everything....just for tonight."

She didn’t move.

Didn’t step away.

Didn’t push him off.

And then, after a long moment—

She moved with him.

____________________________

The moment Max pulled her against him,Y/N knew she was lost.

There was no hesitation. No second guessing. His hands found her waist, and she melted into the touch like she had been waiting for it her entire life.

"Just for one night, Pretend that we’re strangers. Forget everything....just for tonight."

The bond pulsed between them—not a violent crash, not a scream, but a hum, a perfect, golden vibration that ran through her veins, curled around her ribs, and whispered,

Finally.

The music was a slow, sultry beat, the kind that slithered under the skin, the kind that begged for bodies to press together, to find a rhythm that wasn’t just the song but something more.

And God, they did.

Max moved with her like he had been made to. His hands—large, warm, possessive—gripped the dip of her waist, pulling her in, flush against his chest, against the solid wall of his body, and she gasped at the contact, at the way it sent a jolt through her.

Like lightning. Like divinity. Like something so right it should have been written in scripture.

She let her head fall back, her eyes half-lidded as she moved, hips rolling, pressing against him, a slow, torturous friction that sent heat pooling low in her stomach.

She barely registered the low groan that rumbled in his chest, but she felt it, felt the way it vibrated against her, how it sank into her bones.

He was everywhere.

His touch. His scent. His presence, all-consuming, drowning her in something she didn’t know how to fight anymore.

A hand trailed up her back, fingers pressing, kneading, as he guided her movements, slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second, like he had waited for this.

Hadn’t they both?

Hadn’t they been waiting their whole lives for something that felt like this?

She let herself get lost in it. If only just for a moment.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, gripping it tight as she arched into him, as their movements became something deeper, something desperate and unrelenting, like neither of them could get close enough.

The pulse between them was stronger now, not the overwhelming force it had once been, but a pleasure so pure, so satisfying, that it nearly had her keening.

This was what had been missing. This was why.

The bond wanted them together. It needed them to be together.

Max seemed just as lost as she was. His breath was warm against her ear, uneven, his lips grazing the sensitive skin there, barely-there touches that sent a shudder through her spine.

Then lower.

The line of her jaw.

The slope of her neck.

Each kiss was reverent. Worshipful.

She exhaled sharply, her chest rising and falling against his, her grip tightening on him as his lips found her shoulder, where her dress dipped just enough to expose skin.

And God, the way he lingered.

The way his lips pressed, slow, savoring.

She barely heard the music anymore.

Barely heard anything over the roaring in her ears, over the way her body was singing, vibrating with something primal and ancient and undeniable.

It felt—

Like devotion. Like paradise. Nirvana.

Like the thing she had spent her whole life pretending she didn’t need.

She didn’t know how long they moved like that, bodies entwined, breath mixing, hands exploring, but it could have been eternity.

And she—

She thinks would have let it.

__________________________

Max Verstappen was falling.

Not in the literal sense—no, he was still standing, still breathing, still aching hard from the way Y/N fit against him like she had been made for this. But in every other way that mattered?

He was falling.

The press of her body against his still burned on his skin. The scent of her, the warmth of her, the way her breath had hitched when his lips skimmed her shoulder—it was all branded into him, carved deep, a permanent mark on his soul.

Then—

A snap. A quick shutter of light.

Not the sound of something breaking, but the sharp click of a camera.

The moment shattered.

Y/N tensed in his arms first, and Max followed her gaze toward the edge of the dance floor. There, barely hidden in the dim light, was a man holding up his phone. The angle was perfect—too perfect. Max didn’t have to be a genius to know what the guy was doing.

Taking pictures.

Taking pictures of them.

His jaw clenched, frustration bubbling under his skin. The club had a strict no-photo policy, but of course, that didn’t mean anything to some people. He had dealt with this before. Drunk fans. Nosy paparazzi. People who couldn’t respect boundaries.

But before Max could move, Y/N was already on it.

The second Y/N stormed toward the man, Max followed, close enough to interfere if necessary but not stepping in just yet.

He didn’t need to—not when she was handling it with a sharp-edged precision that sent a thrill down his spine.

“Delete it,” she demanded, voice like a blade.

The man tried to laugh it off, feigning ignorance. “I-I don’t know what—”

“Don’t insult me.” Her tone was clipped, authoritative in a way that didn’t invite argument. “I know exactly what you were doing, and I will press charges for violating privacy laws. This club has a strict policy. You’ll be blacklisted. Think deeply, I know that can be hard for you”

The guy hesitated.

Y/N didn’t blink.

“You think I won’t? You think I don’t have the fucking means to follow through?” She took another step forward, her body language poised, threatening without needing to raise her voice. “Go ahead. Test me.”

Max saw the exact moment the man caved. He fumbled with his phone, pulling up the gallery with unsteady fingers. Y/N snatched it from his hands before he could do anything else, her eyes scanning the screen.

She deleted the photos herself, went into the trash folder, and erased them permanently. Then, she shoved the phone back into the guy’s chest with a final glare.

“Try that again,” she said, “and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

The man practically tripped over himself as he rushed away, disappearing into the crowd.

Max let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.” His voice was light, teasing. He wanted to praise her, to tell her how fucking hot that was, how incredible she was when she was like this—strong, fearless, commanding.

But the moment she turned to him, all of that died in his throat.

Because she wasn’t proud of what she had done.

She was angry.

Not at the guy.

At him.

“This.” She gestured sharply toward where the man had disappeared. “This is exactly why I can’t be with you, Max.”

He felt the words like a gut punch.

The heat in her eyes was something deeper than frustration. It was exhaustion, weariness, the kind that settled in your bones when you were just tired of fighting a battle you never asked for.

“The invasion. The cameras. The constant eyes on me, on us,” she continued, voice rising. “You might be used to it, but I’m not. And I don’t want to be.”

Max opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, she turned.

And then she left. Just like that. Again.

He barely had time to react before someone grabbed his arm—a drunk fan, slurring something about a picture.

“Not. Now,” he bit out, shaking them off as gently as he could, barely restraining his frustration.

By the time he shoved past the crowd and made it outside—

She was gone.

His heart pounded.

Then—

A noise.

A struggle.

And then—

A scream.

Y/N.

His body moved before his brain caught up, his feet running toward the sound, toward the darkened corner just beyond the club’s entrance.

“Get the fuck off me!”

His blood went ice cold.

He turned the corner just in time to see a man grabbing Y/N’s wrist, pinning her against the wall. She was fighting, her other hand shoving at his chest, but the guy was persistent, his grip too tight.

Rage surged through Max like a storm.

“HEY!”

His voice was a roar, cutting through the night.

The man barely had time to react before Max was on him.

_________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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

Guysss, this is the second to last chapter, I could have made it longer, but I have other things to do in like my irl, which would mean leaving you guys waiting, and I don't wanna do that, I really hope you like this chapter, I wrote in a hurry while taking breaks from packing, this will be scheduled to post around Monday, so that's that.

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 @l4ndonorizz @edgyficuselastica @k-kaliop @charlesgirl16 @chloes-book-corner @1mverstappen @inchidentofftrack @blackmage24 @angelluv16 @alice-went-away @teamnovalak @wierdflowerpower @sunshine-and-midnight-rain @maxswhore33

✦ Kim Young Jo y Keonhee

Extencion: 2.2k 

Tags: enemies to lovers, students, sexual tension, no-smut, spit kink

Kim Young Jo fue popular desde que tenía memoria, su belleza era motivo de comentarios halagadores que levantaran su ego. Su pelo castaño claro, la sonrisa engreída y su increíble talento para ser bueno en todo, eran las razones principales por las que en su propia escuela tuviera un club de fans. Kim Young Jo es una persona amada.

—Me gusta otra persona—su novia de hace más de cuatro meses estaba terminando con él, por alguien más.

—¿Eh? ¿Estás segura?—la voz de Kim Young Jo tembló—¿Estás segura de que no estás terminando conmigo por otra cosa? ¿Por qué soy engreído? ¿Quizás no soportas que sea más lindo que tú?

—Kim Young Jo… Realmente eres lo peor—río Jinhwa, su ahora expareja—Pero no, estoy segura. Hay alguien que tiene mi atención.

Este era un tipo de crisis que Kim Young Jo no conocía. No le importaba su relación con Jinhwa, aceptó tener una relación porque no era celosa y casi no tenía tiempo para ambos, ya que se la pasaba estudiando. Sin embargo, esta ruptura y la razón detrás, lo dejaba ansioso. ¿Habría alguien más hermoso que él? Imposible.

—¿Puedo saber por quién me estás dejando?

—Lee Keon Hee, del equipo de vóley.

En cuanto Jinhwa se fue, ese nombre le quedó resonando en la cabeza, pero su ego en las nubes le dijo que solo era una chica equivocada. Que no había nadie mejor que él. Así que por ahora solo se preocuparía de cómo lidiar con las personas que lo invitaran a salir ahora que estaba soltero, solo espera que las bocas tardaran de hablar sobre ello.

Camino por los pasillos de vuelta a sus clases, donde se encontró con su fiel amigo, Seoho. Le contó sobre lo sucedido con Jinhwa, mencionando vagamente al chico.

—Sí, Lee Keon Hee se está haciendo popular—agregó Seoho dándole una mirada rápida a su amigo—Ya tiene un club de fans con más de dos mil seguidores.

El castaño casi se atraganta con el agua que estaba tomando, club de fans… ya tenía un club de fans. Él tardó casi tres años en que se formara un buen grupo de fans y, sin embargo, llegaba este chico de la nada y ya andaba armando revuelto por todas partes. Que molesto. Respiro profundo, se dispuso a no prestarle atención, que lo que nacía rápido también moría rápido.

O eso pensó, los días pasaron, y no solo los alumnos hablaban de Lee Keon Hee, los profesores, quienes siempre fueron su máquina de adulaciones, solo le decían palabras dulces para compararlos entre sí. Pronto también se hizo público la separación de la pareja, y en las páginas de confesiones de la escuela hablaban de que Jinhwa lo había engañado con Lee Keon Hee. Las páginas de fans de ambos chicos se pusieron a la defensiva, defendiendo y atacando al otro. Dentro y fuera de la escuela, la tensión creció entre dos chicos que ni siquiera se conocían.

Kim Young Jo siempre fue popular, acostumbrado, se encontraba. Sin embargo, cuando ya no pudo caminar por los pasillos de la escuela sin que diez personas le preguntaran sobre Lee Keon Hee, empezó a hartarse.

Terminaría con la estrella naciente, Lee Keon Hee.

✦

Esto era terrible, terrible. Kim Young Jo se encontraba escondido en las gradas del gimnasio, el equipo de vóley estaba practicando y las pelotas volando por todas partes ya lo estaban mareando, poco acostumbrado a los deportes. Sabía que no era el único espiándolo, un grupo de chicas lindas susurraban entre sí mirando al joven.

Lee Keon Hee era guapo, no tan guapo como él, pero tenía su propia belleza. El rubio lo resaltaba, su sonrisa era agradable y sin duda tenía una buena estructura corporal. Le ardía la sangre, tenía tantos celos que el calor lo inundaba, deseaba ocultar a ese chico.

La clase terminó con ruidos jadeantes, las chicas se fueron avergonzadas y Kim Young Jo decidió que iba a enfrentar a ese descarado. Salió de su escondite apretando los labios, y ni siquiera se dio cuenta de que estaba cegado por la furia hasta que casi cae rodando por los escalones, tuvo la suerte de poder disimularlo cuando el equipo de vóley se dio la vuelta ante el ruido seco.

—¿Oh? ¿Ese no es Kim Young Jo?

—¿Eh? ¡Sí, es Kim Young Jo-sunbaenim!

Los ojos que no habían mirado hacia atrás, al escuchar su nombre, el cuerpo del bastardo se dio la vuelta con desespero. Kim Young Jo no lo entendía, no entendía la mirada curiosa de ese chico, le molestaba.

—¡Y-a, Lee Keon Hee, bastardo!—el castaño se levantó tambaleándose y enfrentando a la estrella naciente que le robaba su popularidad. Kim Young Jo se acercó a zancadas encarando al chico, que solo era unos centímetros más grande que él—¿Quien te crees que eres?

Lee Keon Hee miró a sus compañeros, y con una sonrisa les dijo que sigan, que él los alcanzaría en un momento. Los chicos se fueron entre murmullos, y cuando los ojos de Lee Keon Hee volvieron a posarse en él, tembló. No podía dejarse apretar de esa manera.

—¿Quién crees que eres para robarte a mi novia?—verbalizo el castaño tocando con su dedo índice el pecho del contrario.

Maldita sea, se nota que va al gimnasio.

Lee Keon Hee ladeo la cabeza con una sonrisa engreída, muy diferente a las sonrisas que dio cuando estaban las chicas y sus compañeros de equipo. Así que estaba sacando su verdadera actitud.

—No pensé que hyung fuera tan tonto—Kim Young Jo se sorprendió cuando el rubio le toco la barbilla acercando sus caras, algo irritante en su abdomen hizo que quisiera arrancarle el pelo rubio cenizo; lo insultaba, se atrevía a tocarle su hermosa cara y encima siendo menor que él, ni siquiera espero a que hiciera un movimiento más, simplemente escupió en el rostro del jugador para luego sonreír. Lee Keon Hee se alejó con repugnancia—Ni que le gustara escupir a la gente.

—Eso es especial para ti, maldito, estúpido—Kim Young Jo peinando sus flecos salidos de lugar se acercó al menor que se limpiaba con la manga de su ropa—Aléjate de Jinhwa, no me importa cuanto la quieras.

El castaño sonrió en triunfo y se dio la vuelta con sus últimas palabras dichas. Estaba satisfecho, no pensó que Lee Keon Hee lo alteraría tanto, pero por suerte pudo tomar su venganza. Una mano agarró su abdomen por detrás que lo terminó de tirar, pero no pegó contra el piso como pensó, fue mucho peor, golpeó contra un cuerpo duro que lo mantenía inmovilizado.

—¿Por qué estás tan seguro de a quien quiero es Jinhwa, hyung?—Kim Young Jo ni siquiera pudo quejarse porque el menor susurro esas palabras que acariciaron su oreja y mandaron descargas eléctricas por toda su columna—En realidad no me interesa en absoluto Jinhwa, hyung. La rechace esta mañana, puedes quedarte tranquilo.

Kim Young Jo estaba rojo, de la rabia suponía. Golpeó con su codo la costilla del menor que se quejó de dolor. No pudo decir una palabra, lo habían desafiado y avergonzado. Justo cuando estaba por salir del gimnasio escucha.

—¡La próxima vez escúpeme en mi cama, hyung!

—¡Cállate maldito idiota!—lo último que pudo oír antes de salir corriendo fue la risa sonora del rubio cenizo.

✦

Kim Young Jo se arrepintió de sus acciones, no sabía que tipo de bestia era Lee Keon Hee, pero sin duda la había liberado. Lo seguía a todas partes, la mirada del menor estaba sobre él, siempre. En la cafetería, cuando se encontraban en los pasillos y cuando se escondía en las gradas del gimnasio, no sabía por qué seguía yendo, pero sus tardes se sentían aburridas si no veía al rubio. Había algo que lo mantenía interesado en pelearse con el menor. Lee Keon Hee lo acorralaba y él lo insultaba, una rutina que ninguno de los dos se cansaba de tener. Pronto la rutina fue aún más lejos, y el establecimiento educativo no les daba suficiente tiempo para molestarse, así que en un día de lluvia, Kim Young Jo empapado, es invitado a la casa del menor.

—¿Qué? ¿Hyung tiene miedo de que le haga algo?—y Kim Young Jo no se dejó vencer, aunque sí tenía miedo. La actitud del menor era inesperada, él no-saber que iba a decir, cuál iba a ser su siguiente movimiento… lo mantenía alerta. Siempre se encontraba nervioso si Lee Keon Hee estaba cerca.

La casa del menor se encontraba a unas pocas cuadras del edificio estudiantil, apenas llegaron, se dio cuenta de que estaban solos, no había ruido ni luces prendidas, Lee Keon Hee aunque era joven ya vivía solo; no lo admitió en voz alta pero para Kim Young Jo eso era impresionante. Le dijo que esperara un segundo mientras lo tapaba con una toalla, sin preocuparse por su propio bienestar.

Cuando volvió le trajo unos pantalones grises, una remera negra de manga cortas y boxers del mismo color, olían a vainilla. El castaño se desvistió ahí, de todas formas, Lee Keon Hee seguramente estaba acostumbrado a ver a hombres cambiarse por el equipo de vóley. Pero cuando terminó y se dio la vuelta agradeciendo por el conjunto, el menor estaba rojo, fue la primera vez que lo vio sonrojarse. Kim Young Jo no pudo evitar burlarse de él.

—¿Te has puesto rojo por ver a tu hyung cambiarse?—rio sonoramente mientras se tiraba en el sofá como si fuera su propia casa; sin embargo, se calló cuando notó el silencio y la cabeza baja del rubio—¿Qué pasa?

—Si Hyung lo sabe, no necesita fingir sentirse cómodo—la voz del menor fue apagada, no lo desafiaba. Lee Keon Hee no lo estaba desafiando, y él no sabía contestar porque no tenía idea de que hablaban, le dolía el corazón, sintió un desespero en el pecho, no levantaba la mirada. Quería que lo mirara.

—Lee Keon Hee, no sé de qué hablas.

—¿Hyung, está seguro que no sabe?—el menor levantó la mirada, con los labios rectos y unos ojos oscuros—¿O esto es parte de su venganza por robarme a su novia?

Nunca volvieron a mencionar a Jinhwa desde ese día en el gimnasio, y tampoco él había pensado en eso. En realidad se había olvidado del problema con ella, en el último mes simplemente estuvo con Keon Hee. En cambio, el otro aún parecía perseguido, él fue el que rechazó a Jinhwa y aun así seguía pensando en ella, de repente estaba molesto.

Si, en la escuela los rumores seguían, pero supuso que ninguno de los dos le estaba prestando atención.

—No me interesa Jinhwa, si tanto te gusta, estoy seguro de que ella te dará una segunda oportunidad—contesto sin más Young Jo prendiendo su celular, fingió que sus palabras no le importaban pero se le hundía el corazón. Más le dolió cuando Keon Hee se fue del salón a pasos retumbantes, dejándolo solo.

Sentía un nudo en su garganta, una picazón en sus ojos y la boca seca. Estaba tan confundido, debería estar feliz, si Keon Hee empezaba a salir con ella ya no lo molestaría, ya no lo miraría en la cafetería y no lo acorralaría después de las prácticas de vóley. Sin darse cuenta entró a la página de confesiones, las lágrimas empezaron a caer y el nudo se desató.

Su sollozo era ruidoso, Keon Hee tenía razón, era un Hyung tonto. El más tonto de todos. Tapo su cara con las manos, sentía que se ahogaba, que no podía respirar, que no podía soltarlo. Le gustaba Keon Hee, mucho. Él, por más de estar molesto, lo cuidaba, y él nunca se lo devolvía. Nunca se daba cuenta. Se paró de su lugar y entre los pasillos buscó la habitación en la que se encontraba el menor, sin embargo, hizo tanto ruido que Keon Hee asomó su cabeza por la puerta.

—¿Hyung?—vio su cara lagrimeando, y se acercó con preocupación agarrando su cara entre sus manos—¿Qué pasa?

—No salgas con Jinhwa—pidió entrecortadamente el castaño, los ojos de Keon Hee se oscurecieron, pero aun así asintió.

—No lo haré, Hyung, no te preocupes—Young Jo pudo respirar, y agotado se apoyó en el hombro del menor.

—Bien… Solo sal conmigo, ¿si?

Fueron segundos silenciosos de Young Jo sollozando, hasta que el menor lo agarró de los hombros.

—¡Espera!—exclamó el menor—¿Quieres salir conmigo?

Young Jo se limpió las lágrimas.

—Claro, eres la segunda cara más linda que conozco—sonrió—Si me hubiera enterado antes que eras gay, lo hubiera dicho antes.

Keon Hee estaba en blanco.

—Hyung, el día en el gimnasio—titubeo—Te dije que estaba interesado en ti.

Young Jo frunció el ceño, hasta que recordó.

—¿Por qué estás tan seguro de a quien quiero es Jinhwa, hyung?

oh.

—Pensé que… estabas bromeando—rio nerviosamente Young Jo.

—Hyung, no bromeo—Keon Hee posó una mano en la cintura del mayor—¿Estás bromeando?

—¡Y-a! ¿Por quién me tomas?—cruzó los brazos—No lloro por cualquiera.

—¿Es así? Entonces me alegro—el menor con su otra mano terminó por rodear la cintura del castaño, apretando con su dedo pulgar los costados que hicieron a Young Jo gimotear entre los labios del rubio que lo atacaron inesperadamente. Era el primer hombre al que besaba, y no podía imaginar que hubiera otro, porque la calidez que Keon Hee le estaba dando no podría encontrarlo en otro lugar. Le mordió los labios, lo humedeció y Young Jo sentía que se moría de calor cuando se separaron.

—Keon Hee, realmente eres una bestia. 

im SURE Anakin likes to be hugged, and I would love to hug him.

⊹ ¡ busco mutuals ! ⊹

☽ ¡hola! soy tohie, soy escritora de novelas y fanfics

☽ ! exo, bangtan, txt, astro, red velvet, blackpink

mangas bl & gl. mxtx <3 ! star wars, fanfics . . .

—me ayudarias mucho con un reblog

I ended writing and editing a chapter for a Seb fic BUT NOW I HAVE TO TRANSLATE IT IM IN HELLL

Missing You Part 2! Sebastian Vettel x Reader

For my Sebastian Anon, I hope you enjoy! Requests are open, so Ask away!! (This is from Charles's POV/Sebastian's POV)

To say that Sebastian had attempted to not drive the boys mad was... A statement that could be made... Was it truthful? No. Not in any source of the word. From the moment Charles began suggesting things to do, Sebastian would interject with comments on how Y/N would have loved doing it. Had Charles not been dealing with this behavior for a week from Sebastian, he would have thought it was cute that his mentor was this in love. Right now, it was just annoying Charles. But he was trying his hardest not to lose his mind as he quickly glanced at his phone wondering if Y/N had checked her messages yet. Sadly, she hadn't. Charles was still on delivered. "I need help..." Charles mumbled.

With the message sent to Lewis, Charles prayed to whoever was listening that Lewis could help him. Or, at least provide Sebastian with more than Charles was currently doing. Y/N still hadn't read her message, and Charles was trying not to panic about that. If Sebastian wasn't panicking about Y/N yet, it meant that he had been in touch with her recently. He certainly didn't want to ask if Sebastian was talking to her. He didn't want to open that can of worms. Yet, life didn't feel the same. It wanted to torture Charles.... (SEB POV) Sebastian sighed as he turned to Charles, unaware of the two conversations that Charles had while he was lost in his thoughts about Y/N and what she was doing without him while he was stuck racing on her birthday. He was usually so good about celebrating her birthday with her before the races, if one was scheduled. But time had simply got away from Sebastian this time. It made him feel soo small. "Do you think Y/N will forgive me for being away? I know I got her gifts, balloons, flowers... But it's not the same as being here with me, or there with her, you know?" Sebastian asked Charles. Seemingly forgetting who he was speaking too. It was Charles, the chronically single member of the grid. Well, that was a lie, but Sebastian wasn't in the right state of mind to focus on it. "Oh mon Dieu" Charles exclaimed, making Sebastian arch his eyebrow as he looked down at the young Monégasque driver. Slightly offended by Charles's reaction. "It's a valid question! I am here! She is there!" It was at this moment that Sebastian's phone went off making him look down, his eyes growing wide as a smile spread across his face and his fingers quickly tapped against the screen to open the message

Part 3?! Or end it here?!

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!

Tender Love & Care | Sebastian Vettel/reader

Set during and after the 2009 Australian gp but he has his longer, curly hair bc fuck his buzz cut (/j ily sebby but your curls are to die for)

Warnings: 18+, hair pulling, dry humping, kinda sub!seb?, unprotected sex

Word count: 1k

———————————————————————

Having still not fully processed what had happened, you watched the screen in horror as Seb continues, left tyre hanging on, balancing on top of his car.

Angry and exasperated sighs erupt around you in the Red Bull garage. A lap later, Sebastian’s car eventually comes to a stop, and you let out a sigh of relief, glad he’d be returning soon.

“I’m an idiot, I’m sorry, I’m very sorry.”

You hear the crackled voice through the team’s radio and your heart breaks.

He finally pulls into the garage, and is immediately overwhelmed by angry comments. You rush to hug him tightly, feeling him shake slightly in your arms. He mumbled something incoherent into your chest as your hand gently circled his back.

After remaining like that for a few minutes, you decided to let the team know you were taking him home, and to contact him tomorrow to debrief, leading him to your rental car.

As you walked away you heard talks of an investigation and penalties, and knew you had to take extra good care of your poor German.

———

The drive to your hotel was silent, interrupted only by the occasional sniffle from Seb. One hand on the wheel, you reached out with your other to pet his thigh, knowing the physical touch would comfort him.

Finally reaching your room, you immediately went to run a bath for him, while he sat slumped over the edge of the bed. Your heart broke seeing him hug his small frame, letting out shaky breaths.

Gently stripping him, you guide him slowly to the warm bath, grabbing the shampoo to tenderly massage it through his blond curls. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and the tension started to dissipate out of his body.

Taking a sponge from the side, you washed him, kneading the knots out of his shoulders and wiping the tear stains away.

Seb looked at you through watery blue eyes and spoke for the first time since you’d held him, asking you to join him.

Stripping off your clothes, you felt his gaze on your body, his bitten, swollen lips parted slightly. You felt your face burn at the attention.

Signalling for him to move, you climbed in behind him, placing his head on your shoulder and your arms on his stomach, hands entwined with his.

He tried to speak again, but you shushed him, peppering kisses along his neck and shoulders, making him shiver.

“It’s okay baby, you don’t need to talk, let me take care of you.”

You both lay there until the water turned cold. Throwing a robe on, you dried your hair, watching Seb in the mirror, towelling his curls.

You turn around, taking the towel from him and ruffling his messy hair. “You’re so cute, Sebby”, you giggle as he pouted at you.

Leading him to the bedroom, you placed him gently at the foot of the bed then perched on the edge. He laid his head on your lap, staring up at you with sad, doe eyes.

“It’s all my fault.” He said, nuzzling his head in your hand, as you gripped his hair once more, pulling gently.

He moaned, kissing along your thighs, and you pulled harder. He bucked his hips and looked at you with widening pupils.

“Are you going to be good for me, baby?” You asked, running your hands down his chest, fingers grazing his happy trail.

“Yes, please.” He whined, taking your hands and dragging them lower, brushing them against his hardening cock.

“Now, Sebby, you have to earn it.” you tutted, pulling him to straddle your lap. “Are you going to show me how much you need it?”

He kissed you desperately, licking into your mouth, gripping your waist. You broke the kiss to finally breathe, gazing into his hooded eyes.

Seb started grinding against your thigh, seeking his release. You could tell he was close already, his precum wetting his stomach, so you grabbed his hips, stilling him. He mewled, eyes glassy with tears of desperation.

“Please,” he whimpered, moving a hand to your pussy “let me touch you.”

He gathered your wetness on his fingers, sliding them up to lazily circle your clit, smiling cheekily at your soft gasps.

Moving his head down, he starts lapping the wetness that had dripped down your thighs, all the way up to your aching hole.

“Sebby- need you inside me!” You moan, watching his eyes light up.

You move further up the bed and lay your head on the pillow, the blond following with lust-filled eyes.

He kisses you again, and you taste yourself on him. He kneads your breasts before holding your hips and lining himself up. Your body twitches slightly as his dick nudges your sensitive clit before the head disappears inside you.

Moving down to your nipples he alternates between sucking and flicking, as he slowly bottoms out.

He stays there while you adjust, kissing hickeys down your neck and breasts, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hide them.

Finally, he pulls out steadily, not wanting to hurt you, until only his tip was inside you.

“You’re so perfect for me, liebling, so beautiful.” He said, gazing down at you lovingly. Your blush deepened at the praise, and you pulled him in for another kiss.

Pulling his hair caused his hips to jut into you suddenly, making you break the kiss to gasp. Seb smirked in satisfaction at your reaction, as he started thrusting deep into you at a steady pace.

Evidently he was more excited than you first thought, as not long after, his thrusts started to become more irregular. You could feel your orgasm building too, as Seb moved his hand back to your clit, matching his pace.

“Come for me, schatzi.” He whispered, his accent thicker.

You came, walls tightening around him, making him groan into your neck. He followed not long after, filling you full of his warm cum.

He pulled out slowly, resting his head on your chest while you rubbed his back and played with his curls.

“Sebby, dear, are you okay?”

He nodded lazily, not wanting to move. “I love you.” He mumbled into your neck. “I’m sorry.” He added quietly, still ashamed from the DNF.

“Baby, you don’t need to be sorry, it was an accident. I love you, sweetheart.” You replied, kissing his curls and holding him closer, feeling him slowly drift off.

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.”

⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘