A Diferentes Velocidades (Lando X Lectora)

Favourite Moments | LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Girlfriend!Reader (Requested)

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

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

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

The apartment was too quiet.

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t messy—just… abandoned.

A sense of unease crept in.

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

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

For a split second, worry flared in his chest.

Then—

A loud, completely ungraceful snore ripped through the air.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He should have been here sooner.

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

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

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

“Lewis…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, it was his turn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hesitated, then mumbled, “Maybe.”

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

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

Silence.

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

More silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She huffed but didn’t argue.

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

Silence.

His stomach sank. “Y/N.”

She winced. “I… ate soup?”

His jaw tightened. “When?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…Coffee?”

He groaned. “Y/NNN.”

“Just water is boring, Lewis” she pouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She groaned. “I was gonna say stupid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She let out a startled yelp. “LEWIS!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She had always known exactly what he needed.

Now, it was his turn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smirked sleepily. “Serves you right.”

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

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

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

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

She hummed in response, eyes fluttering shut.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you for bringing her to my life, god.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always,” he said simply.

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

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

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

He smiled to himself.

This is home.

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

Y/N’s face turned red instantly.

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

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

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

She huffed.

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

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

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

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

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

He lived for that sound.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It did something to his heart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lewis exhaled, his body relaxing against her.

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

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

Y/N suddenly sneezed right into his hair.

He froze.

She sniffled. “Oh my god.”

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

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

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

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

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

_________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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

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

Jules♡

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 @glow-ish @lazybot @weekendlusting @milky-rose2

dios franco lpm no te juntes con pelotudos no aprendiste nada del evento de la china

Franco Colapinto with ex footballer Sergio Agüero at Alpine Hexagon Cup 2025, a padel show, in Madrid, Spain. 30th january, 2025 (Diario Marca)

VERY FUN

what happens in vegas, does not stay in vegas | ch. 01

pairing: oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

summary: down in the dumps after a big loss, your brother charles decides to stay in instead of going out to party, believing his fellow drivers would keep you from doing anything dumb while out on partying on the vegas strip. that was his first mistake. the next morning his wakes up to the news that you’ve went and gotten yourself married, but who could possible be stupid enough to take advantage of charles leclerc’s baby sister?

warnings: talks about men being creeps. drinking. lando and oscar being proper gentlemen, reader's age is not specified but its mentioned she's in her twenties! reader has everyone wrapped around her finger, oscars antisocial.

word count: 5.1k (my best so far)

authors note: okay soooooo, yes i did already post the first chapter of this series, but i hated it, sorry! so i rewrote it and this was the result, i promise this version is so much better, feedback is also appreciated :) enjoy! i also wrote half this while recovering from wisdom teeth removal, so if there’s any misspelling let’s just blame it on that. reblogs, comments, or feedback of any kind is always greatly appreciated!

series masterlist + playlist

| next chapter ->

Charles Leclerc was a lame, little, whiny baby, loser. And you would’ve said it to his face…if he wasn’t giving you his card so you can buy drinks and souvenirs all night.

It was the Sunday of the big race in Vegas Nevada, coincidentally the first time you'd been in the States, and like any irresponsible twenty-some-year-old would be, you were more excited about the after-party then the actual race.

"Are you sure you don't want to join?" you shouted towards the hotel bedroom, you had your small setup in the bathroom, you pulled down your dress slightly and adjusted your hair before slowly stepping out of the hotel bathroom.

Charles perked up from his phone, shooting you a small smile, he had placed four in the race, something you found impressive (granted you found anything your big brothers did impressive) while he did not, hence him being a debbie downer and refusing to join you, and his fellow drivers on a night out at the Vegas strip.

"I'm sure, Piccina" Charles sat up, pushing his card towards you on the white bed sheets, "Just be careful?"

You nodded eagerly placing this card carefully into your wallet while smiling at the nickname, Piccina, meaning tiny, it had been your nickname ever since you were little, and him using it gave you the comfort of knowing he wasn't secretly mad at you for ditching him while he was down in the dumps.

"Who's going again?" Charles chimed from behind you as you adjusted yourself in the mirror.

You hummed, thinking, "I know Lando for sure."

Charles snorted, muttering, "That wasn't a question."

"I think Oscar, Carlos..." you paused, hoping you didn't hit a nerve, but he simply nodded, "Max might show up...Franco's a yes, Lance, Fernando, and maybe Pierre?" you turned to him with a smile.

Charles shook his head slightly, "Pierre's staying back with me."

You shot him a funny look, "Date night?"

Charles's laughter rang out in the room, he pulled a pillow from behind him and shot it at you, "You're not funny!"

You stood up, throwing the pillow back at him, "You sure are laughing!"

Two stood around for a few more minutes, with Charles refusing to let you leave out alone, insisting you waited for Lando to pick you up. You groaned, "He's taking forever!"

"I don't care!" he matched your tone, "Its dangerous, you could get mobbed or something."

"And having Lando is going to help that, how?" you rose a brow, and his awkward silence made you smirk in triumph.

He huffed, rolling his eyes, "He won't help with the fans, but he’ll help if some creep tries touching you."

You couldn't argue with that.

Just as you were going to try and argue your way out of the door, again, a small knock rang throughout the room.

You beamed, skipping over to the door, as you opened the door, Lando snapped his head up, a whistle leaving his lips, "Looking good, Leclerc!" he cheered as stepped into the room slightly. You smiled as you gave him a slight spin.

"Thanks Lando," Charles joked, you slapped his arm slightly, rolling your eyes, "You know he was talking about me."

Charles rolled his eyes as he and Lando 'bro-hugged' while you went around the room making sure you had everything you needed.

'"Okay, I'm ready!" you cheered, walking over to the two men. Charles nodded, looking you over once more, Lando made his way out the door.

"You got everything?" Charles checked, you nodded brightly, leaning over to give him a hug, "Phone? Charger? Bandaids? Condom?—“

"Charles!" you shrieked, feeling your body heat up as you heard Lando's faint giggle.

Charles held his hands up in defense, "I don't like talking about it either, but I rather you be safe."

You groaned, taking small steps towards the door, "Yes, Charles I have everything."

Charles smiled, holding the door open for you and you stepped out and stood by Lando, "Good. And remember if you need anything, call me."

"Sir yes, sir!" you saluted jokingly.

Charles turned to Lando, "Keep her safe, alright?"

"Sir yes, sir!" Lando mocked you, Charles rolled his eyes as you and Lando burst into laughter.

"Very funny.." was the last thing he muttered before shutting the door in your face.

☾

You and Lando walked side by side in the busy streets of Las Vegas, your eyes shone brightly as you took in the new scenery. When you were younger you didn't necessarily get to travel much because all the extra money went to karting and competitions.

You never complained, even when you had to give up your own dream of being a Formula One driver so Charles could have his chance. He was a great talent, everyone in the family recognized that, and you eventually got over your silly dream.

Since that day when you were ripped apart from your passion, Charles promised he would grant every wish you ever wanted. ‘We’ll go the States and eat everything!—And I’ll buy you everything because I’ll have money from Ferrari!’ he said as he wiped your tears from your puffy cheeks. You knew he only said that because he felt it was his fault you didn’t get to live out your dream. And although you would never admit it to anyone, because it made you feel like a horrible sister, sometimes you did resent the decision made by your family— you had talent too. Why was Charles the only one who got the chance to be great?

"Never been to Vegas?" Lando's voice cut through the silence, he was carrying bags and bags of all types of items, clothes, souvenirs, jewelry, you name it. You had really gone crazy. Since you had about an hour to waste until you were all supposed to meet up, you decided to get all your shopping done early.

You had wanted to hold the bags, but Lando instead he do it, saying it was the 'gentlemen' thing to do.

"No." you breathed out with a smile, "I don't get all the hate this place gets, it's beautiful."

Lando snorted, "I've never heard that said about Vegas before."

"People aren't as deep and sentimental as me Lando, you should know that by now," you wiped a fake tear from your eye and Lando burst into laughter.

You smiled, eyeing the bags in his hands once again, "Are you sure we shouldn't take this stuff back to the hotel?"

Lando nodded, pulling the bags closer to him, "We have a private area in the club, we can put them there."

You 'oohed', "Private area huh?"

"Only the best for Ms. Leclerc," he smirked.

"Oh please," you laughed, "You just don't want anyone to record you getting wasted."

"Okay, maybe that too."

You shook your head as you and Lando crossed the street, you caught a glimpse at the club down the strip, "So who's officially going?"

"I know Oscars going."

"Because you bribed him?"

"Yes."

You and Lando both giggled, swerving in between people, "Carlos is going..." Lando eyes you carefully.

You held your hand up, "What happens with Charles and Carlos on track is none of my business...plus they're like a bipolar couple, they'll be back to charlos in no time."

Lando thought for a second before nodding, "That's why carlando is better."

You shook your head with a smile and Lando continued, "George is going, so is Alonso, Max, Franco, Yuki, and Lance."

"No Alex?" you questioned.

Lando shook his head, "He said he's taking Lily on a 'supes romantic vegas date."

You awed, before frowning, "I need a boyfriend."

Lando smirked, turning to you, "You know I have the perfect guy—“

"Lando!" you heard a familiar accent shout near you. Both you and Lando snapped your head up to see Carlos waving widely at you two, while the others pretended not to know him.

"Carlos!" Lando shouted, lifting his arms up, the multitude of bags almost smacking you in the face.

You would think they hadn't seen each other in years with the way they embraced each other, you could only watch in amusement before you felt a slight tap on your shoulder.

Turning around you came face to face with Oscar Piastri, he just got cuter each day, "Hi." he mumbled as he pulled you into a soft hug. "I didn't see you today, and I didn’t want you thinking I was being rude or avoiding you.”

"You? Rude? Never," you mumbled with a smile and he patted your back softly, "I didn't think you would make it.." you pulled back and he shot you a questioning look, "I don't mean to offend but this doesn't seem like your type of place."

Oscar smiled, and you two started to make your way into the booming club, with Oscar's hand resting on your back, you made sure to greet everyone with a smile.

"It's not!" he yelled so you could hear him, while also making sure he wasn't too close to your ear. "Lando bribed me!"

You nodded, laughing, "Yeah he told me! How much did he give you?"

Oscar's face burned red—not that you could see it—"It wasn't really a..money bribe!"

You turned to him confused, but before you could ask him to clarify, you were both halted when Lando seemingly appeared out of nowhere, making you both pause.

Lando already seemed off his rocker, eyes moving side to side widely, "I'm going to get drinks!" he yelled, shoving all of your bags into Oscar's arms, who took them in surprise, "Our area is over there—" both you and Oscar turned to where he was pointing simultaneously, "Have fun okay?" he shot you two a big thumbs up before getting lost in the crowd.

You and Oscar both stood still for a moment before you slowly turned to each other, "How is he already drunk?" you asked, trying to take the bags from Oscar's hands, but he simply swerved around you, nodding up to where Lando pointed previously.

"I can take those, you know?" You yelled over to Oscar as you started climbing the stairs up to the top portion of the club, you could hear the big change in volume as you got higher.

Oscar gave you a funny look, "What type of man would I be if I let you carry these heavy bags?"

You didn't have an answer. It was a big culture shock when you realized men weren't exactly like your brothers, your brothers always treated you like gold. But once you went out to the real world, you were quick to realize that was not the norm.

Oscar took a slight peak into the bag, "What exactly did you buy?"

"Lots of things with my name on it," you laughed, taking a seat on the sofa next to the big group of drivers, who all acknowledged your existence with a smile. You watched as Oscar followed in your steps, taking a seat next to you, his knee touching yours.

"Examples?"

"You name it... license plate, shirts, bracelets, necklace."

"A true Vegas staple." Oscar nodded in approval, turning his whole body toward you.

You beamed, turning toward him as well, eager to keep to conversation going, "So...how do you feel about the race?"

Oscar laughed slightly, taking a peek behind you, "Probably a lot better than your brother."

You nodded with a pursed smile, "Probably,"

"Is that why's he's not here?"

You shrugged slightly, "Maybe. He said he just wasn't feeling it, but who knows?"

"Do you think they'll stay mad at each other for long?" Oscar's voice was now a quiet whisper, clearly trying to avoid attention.

You shook your head, "We have a flight back home tomorrow night, they'll be fine by then." you know that because you had told Charles that if they didn't fix their problem before said flight, you wouldn't be going home with them, you could not deal with that awkwardness. And Charles would do anything for you, so of course he and Carlos were going to make up.

Oscar perked up, smiling at you, "I'm going home on that flight too."

Your face lit up, "You live in Monaco now right?"

Oscar nodded bashfully, he had made the move early that year, during the ‘Leclerc-Piastri adopted son’ situation. He was very quiet about it, so he didn’t expect you to know about it—or frankly, care. “Y-yeah, I thought it would be better with all the traveling.”

“And the tax-evading.”

Oscar let out a loud laugh, no doubt catching the attention of others scattered around the room, you watched him cackle with a smile. “How are you liking it?” you asked.

Oscar sobered down slightly, a grin still present, “It’s not home…but it’s….Monaco.”

You threw your head back with a smile, “It’s better when you get past all the cars and celebrities.”

Oscar nodded, “One of my first days I went hiking," you remember seeing the picture he posted, all sweaty, your eyes widened at the memory, and you shifted flustered "It was nice."

"I can show you some better places if you'd like?

"Really?" Oscar's eyes were wide, full of excitement.

You nodded proudly, "Of course, I've given everyone here a tour of the city, I'm a great guide if I do say so myself."

The lights in Oscar's eyes diminished slightly, for a second, there, he thought he was special, he coughed awkwardly, "Oh yeah?"

You eyed the group behind you, "Since everyone here apparently loves tax evading, I've taken it upon myself to teach them about my home."

Oscar giggled slightly and you contained, raising your brow, "I'm surprised I haven't seen you around, I see George at least three times a week."

Oscar flushed, and this time he was sure you could tell, "Oh I..." he sucked his teeth, "I.. don't really leave my house."

You started at him with squinted eyes for a moment, "...Because of the fans?"

"No...no."

"Because you don't have a car?" you asked, recalling the photo of him riding a bike around the city months ago, you would've thought he would've bought a car since then, or at least borrowed one.

"I have a car."

You laughed in confusion, "Okay then why?"

Oscar shrugged, playing with the ends of his sweater, "I just don't really like to go out."

"Like ever?"

"I go to... grocery stores."

"Oh, Oscar..." you sighed, and the man jumped to defend himself.

"I play sim a lot!...and that's like talking to people?..."

You winced, "Is it though?"

Oscar sighed, looking down at his lap, "...No..."

You pursed your lips, patting his knew softly, "Its okay Oscar...I'll make sure you go out more."

Before he could respond, Lando's loud cheers emerged from the staircase, and Oscar felt your attention slip away from him.

"I'm back, and I bring drinks!" Lando shouted as he hurried over to the group, a tray filled with drinks in his hands. The others cheered. The drink was purple, and it seemed to be fizzling as everyone took one.

"What is this?" Lance blinked up at Lando, who shrugged, Fernando took a small sniff before pulling back in shock; the others looked at him in worry, as he coughed, waving everyone off.

"I have no idea!" Lando yelled, and the other slowly started to put the drink down, "The bartender just told me it would make us forget who won the race tonight!"

Just like that, everyone had picked their glasses back up and quickly swallowed down the drink. Georges's face went black as he rolled his eyes, taking a small sip of his drink, "Assholes.." he whispered.

☾

"You have really pretty eyes..." Oscar slurred as he watched you lay down on the couch, he sat on the floor, legs crossed over each other as he stared into your face.

You hummed, "People say me and Charles have the same eyes..."

Oscar blinked, "Charles has pretty eyes..."

There was no one left awake in the 'private' area, the men were either down on the dance floor, or asleep on the ground, such as Lance, Franco, and Yuki.

The drink had no effect at first, so everyone felt confident drinking another....and another...and another, and before anyone knew it, everyone was far gone, way far gone.

You giggled, bringing a drunken smile onto Oscar's face. You continued to giggle before your face turned serious.

You turned to Oscar with a glare, Oscar visibly jumped, "Do you have a girlfriend, Oscar?"

Gaping in shock, Oscar shook his head like crazy.

Your glare hardened, "I'm gonna need you to say it."

"I don't have a girlfriend." Oscar replied instantly.

You stared for a couple more moments before a bright grin took over your face, "Thank god!" you giggled before turning serious once more, "It seems like everyone is dating someone, and it makes me feel lonely." You quickly (with a small struggle) sat up from the couch, grabbing Oscar's hand.

“At least you don't have a girlfriend.” 

Oscar, the most out of it he's ever been, swayed side to side, “I want to be your girlfriend.” he mumbled, pressing a soft, delicate kiss to your hand. 

You giggled, throwing your head back, “Not girlfriend! Boyfriend silly…and I don't think whiny baby Charles would like that…” 

Oscar sat up straight, “I don't care what Charles thinks,” he did, he really, really, did. “He shouldn't control your life.” In any other situation, Oscar would never say anything like this, in fact, one of the primary reasons he never man up and asked you out (other than the fact that he was sure you did not like him that way) was because he wasn't sure Charles would approve. And if he didn’t have Charles’ approval, then what was the point in even trying? 

“He just thinks he knows best,” you mumbled through a frown. “He doesn't control me…does he?” 

Oscar slipped his hands away from you, moving his arms widely “No! No…I’m dumb, Charles would never control you..”

But it seemed like you weren’t listening anymore, your eyes dazed, “If Charles does control me, then I should do something to get him back..” you turned to Oscar with a glare, he knew you well, you were thinking of ways to get back at Charles..for something he didn’t even do. “For being evil…” 

Oscar laughed, shaking his head, “Charles isn't evil!” You joined him in the laughter. Before your face went blank, “What were we talking about?” 

Oscar decided not to indulge in your evil sibling rivalry plans, “You were telling me how you wanted a boyfriend.” 

You gaped, pointing at Oscar, “You're right! You know Oscar…you would be the perfect boyfriend!” 

Oscar's cheeks went pink, “I would?” he mumbled bashfully. 

You nodded proudly, “Mhm..you are very respectful..you've never stared at my ass, unlike some of the drivers..” Oscar’s mouth opened in shock with a million questions running through his mind, but you didn’t give him time to react, “And you're funny, not like joke funny,” Oscar tried to not let an offended expression take over his face, “But like expression funny. And I’m sure you’d give the best kisses…and! You look like you’d never forget an anniversary.” 

Not to toot his own horn, but you're right, Oscar had a great memory, and if it was your anniversary, he would never forget it. 

You’re face lights, “I have the best idea!” you squealed, standing up and pulling Oscar up with you, you both stumbled. You pulled on his jacket, bringing you face to face, “We should get married!” 

The grin on Oscar’s face was electric, “Yes!” he shouted, accidentally waking up Yuki, who shot up from the cuddle pile on the ground with wide eyes, you two were too focused on your own bubble to notice him.

You gasped, gripping onto Oscar tighter, “Really? You’ll marry me?” 

Oscar gripped onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth tightly, “Of course I would! I’m not stupid!” 

“Oh I have to tell Charles! He can’t miss my wedding!” 

Oscar nodded, watching with a beaming smile as you pulled out your phone, opening it up before you slowly put it down with a frown. 

“I can’t tell Charles.” your eyes unintentionally watered, “He won’t let me.” You slowly sat down on the small couch. 

Oscar slowly sat next to you, trying to hide his dimmed energy, “Don’t worry about..” he mumbled, “I can wait.” I’ve already waited six years, he thought, what’s a couple more? 

“But you shouldn’t have to wait!’ You groaned, quickly standing up, “We’re getting married tonight!” You stomped your foot, “I’ll just take lots of pictures so Charlie doesn’t miss it!” 

Oscar’s light returned, he accepted the hand you held out for him, “Let’s go get married, Oscar!’ you cheered, leading him down the club stairs.

Yucki watched you two leave, his face full of confusion, he groaned, laying back onto the ground while rubbing his eyes, “Married? Charles is going to kill him.” 

​☾

“I still can’t believe you let the little princess go out without you,” Pierre mumbled through his bites of popcorn. 

Charles rolled his eyes, grabbing another handful of the cornels, “She doesn’t have to be with me all the time, she’s growing up and wants to go out alone.” 

“Okay…but with Lando?” 

“Lando wouldn’t dare touch her. He knows I would throw him into the barriers.” 

Pierre and Charles were lying in bed, a popcorn bucket lay in the middle of them, while a french romance movie played in the background. 

Pierre nodded after a pause “You know who I’m worried about?” 

Charles leaned over to look at the man, “Who?”

“That Australian creep.” 

Charles furrowed his brow,”...Daniel?’

Pierre shot him a look, “No, not Daniel. Oscar.” 

Charles shot up with a choked laugh, “O-oscar?” he threw his head back with a loud laugh, “O-oscar?” 

Pierre watched him with an unamused face, waiting for him to sober, which took longer than you would think. 

“Oscar?” Charles shook his head with a smile as he laid back down, “No..Oscar…” he giggled, “No.” 

Pierre scoffed, “You underestimate him..I’ve seen it,” Pierre’s eyes unfocused, “He is always staring.” 

Charles shrugged, throwing up a kurnell before catching it in his mouth, “Piccina is pretty…people always stare.” 

Pierra shook his head sharply, “No…Oscar stares like he is trying to read her mind or something.. I’m telling you Charles, he is creepy.” 

Charles waved him off, “Trust me. Oscar is the last person who would do something to piccina.” 

​☾

“I still think this is a bad idea..” Lando slurred as he took off his shirt lazily. 

Max nodded in agreement, pulling up his suit pants, “Mhmm..” his head rolled back as he giggled, “Charles is going to blow up,” he made a boom sound.  

“At least Oscar finally grew his balls and asked her out...” Lando giggled, looking over to where you and Oscar stood near the chapel. Oscar was adjusting your veil while you played with his tie. 

“Does it count if they're both drunk?” Max asked. 

Lando thought for a moment, “Maybe..” 

After dragging Oscar down to the dance floor, you two found Max and Lando, who you both let know of your plans to get married. You only needed one of them (to be a witness) so you could legally get married. But they both insisted on joining you. 

You and Oscar were going all out (as out as you could be with a notice of maybe forty minutes) and that included a dress, veil, and suits for Oscar and the groomsmen (Max and Lando)

“You look gorgeous..” Oscar sighed, gazing down into your eyes. 

“You look good too,” You giggled, tightening and untightening his tie. Maybe it was the nerves of doing something so taboo, but you needed something to fidget with. 

“Are you sure about this?” Oscar asked, looking behind as the Elvis priest started to set up his whole thing. 

“Yeah..” you sighed. In another situation you would’ve never even brought up the conversation of you being lonely, much less getting married in a Vegas chapel, but you were completely out of it, and to be fair, so was Oscar, Max, and Lando. 

Speaking of which, the two groomsmen made their way over to you, and patted Oscar on the shoulder, “It’s time.” Lando sang slightly, pushing Oscar to stand on the side of the Elvis priest. Lando followed after him. 

Max grinned down at you, giving you, “You ready?” he giggled. 

You beamed, wrapping your arm around him as ‘here comes the bride’ started playing softly.”Sure am!” 

​☾

There was something so scary about waking up in a room you didn't recognize.

The light was blinding, and it just made your hangover headache ten times worse. You groaned, squinting as you slowly sat up from the unrecognizable bed.

Panicked, you looked around the room–it was trashed, with bottles of wine, and bed sheets scattered everywhere. In terror you looked down at yourself, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of your clothes still on your body. It was not your clothes, fitting at least five times too big, but still, you took that as a good sign.

Slowly you inched off the bed, and there you noticed there was someone else in the bed, face down, with his arms sprawled out. It was a man. You panicked for a moment, he couldn't be dead, could he? 

Carefully, you walked around the bed and squatted to take a look at who it was, the sight made your stomach churn, "Oscar?" you whispered to yourself.

What were you doing in Oscar Piastri's room of all places?

Omg, had he kidnapped you? You laughed to yourself. No, it was more likely that you kidnapped him.

Shaking your head, you decided to leave, the horror it would be if anyone caught you leaving Oscar’s room, the media would go crazy, you’d have to figure this all out later. You stared at him for a small second before making your way to the room, accidentally crushing a piece of paper that lay on the ground.

You winced, turning to make sure the sound did not wake Oscar up, it didn't. With a sigh of relief, you tiptoed out of the room, missing the wedding dress that was neatly hung on the door. 

As you stumbled through the hotel hallway, you felt all kinds of dirty. Yes, you still had clothes on, but that did not necessarily mean you two didn't do anything. Yikes. You just prayed that Charles hadn't heard anything about this.

It was in this moment that you thanked Carlos Sainz, their small fight was the reason Charles didn’t go out. It was more than likely he didnt see anything.

Taking your hotel room key out of your bra (safe keeping), you turned the corner of the hotel, gasping in horror at who you saw pacing up and down your room door. Your brother, Charles.

His head snapped up at the sound of the gasp, his eyes red and swollen. He did not waste any time running over to you, his pupils were wild as he scanned you up and down multiple times, he was rambling in French, making your head spin by the sheer volume of his voice.

You shushed him, squinting, "Charles.. calm down please."

He pulled you in a tight hug, "Calm down? How can I calm down! You disappeared and didn’t answer your phone, and I have to find out through Instagram that you got married!" Pause. 

You pulled back from the hug, feeling the room spin, "What?" you whispered, although he didnt seem to hear you.

"And listen mon cœur, if you love him then it's okay. We're not mad—just, why didn't you tell us?" He looked down at you with a frown.

You shook your head violently, holding up a finger,

"No no, Charles, what are you talking about?" His sadness quickly turned to confusion, "You got married?"

Your eyes went comically wide, "What!?" you yelled, not caring about your volume.

Charles took a step back, "You disappeared all night and Max posted to social media pictures of your wedding being married. You.. don't remember?"

"No Charles I don't fucking remember!" you shouted in horror, patting yourself down for your phone, just your luck, it wasn't on you.

 "Oh my god.." you groaned, shutting your eyes."What's wrong? You don't remember getting married to your secret boyfriend?"

You looked up at your brother blankly, "Charles, I don't have a secret boyfriend."

Charles tilted his head, slowly speaking, "...Then who did you marry?"

You chose not to answer, letting him piece the puzzle together himself. 

"You got married to a stranger? What is wrong with you?”

"I was drunk!" you threw your arms up in defense.

"Oh, you were drunk!" Charles asked ironically, "I get drunk all the time and I don't get married to random strangers!"

"You act like I wanted this to happen!" You two bickered, not noticing the awkward Australian slowly making his way towards you two.

"Well, you don't seem as freaked out as you should be!" Charles shouted.

"I'm still processing this!" you whined, stomping your feet, just then you two heard a cough. You swiveled around only to come face to face with Oscar, his pale cheeks lit with fire, "Oscar," you smiled, nudging Charles.

Charles looked up at Oscar in confusion, giving him an unsure smile.

"Sorry to interrupt," Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, before presenting two items, your phone, and a piece of slightly crumbled paper, 

You gasped, taking the phone with a smile, but before you could thank him, Charles spoke up,

"Why do you have her phone?" his voice was low, and no amusement was present.

You looked at Oscar with wide eyes, shaking your head slightly, Charles could not find out that you two had spent the night together, no way he would take that well.

With all the ruckus, you yourself hadn’t managed to piece the biggest puzzle together. Maybe if you were in a better headspace and realized that it was Oscar who you had drunkenly married, you would have stopped Oscar from even being near Charles. 

Oscar swallowed thickly, blinking, before he could even mutter a word, the paper in his hands was ripped away. The panic was clear on his face, as he tried to reach for it, but to no avail.

You watched in confusion as Oscar clearly started to panic, you glanced back at your brother who was staring down at the piece of paper with never seen before anger.

"What is it?" you mumbled, looking down at his hands, it was a certificate, you slowly read it, dreadfulness morphing quickly.

This document certifies OSCAR JACK PIASTRI & Y/N LECLERC, were united in marriage in the LITTLE LAS VEGAS WEDDING CHAPEL.

Oh shit.

Charles glanced between you and Oscar, whose mouth was pressed tightly.

"You took advantage of my sister?" Charles whispered, and Oscar's eyes widened along with yours.

"No, Charles–" you tried, but Charles had already crumpled the marriage certificate and thrown it to the side.

"You took advantage of my sister?!" Charles yelled, and the next thing you knew, Charles was on top of Oscar, his fist landing on his beautiful face. 

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collecting these 🥴

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

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER PT5 | MV1

an: AND WE'RE BACK!! WHO MISSED OUR FAVOURITE LITTLE FAMILY! can't wait to hear what you guys think of this part, i've loved being with them this week, this is a shorter chapter but i've got ideas for what might happen next! lmk if y'all wanna see anything in particular

wc: 3.2k

Theo was four when his parents welcomed his sister, and Max very nearly missed it, if not for Danny.

It had been a normal day at the garage, Max elbow-deep in an engine rebuild, grease staining his hands and his focus entirely on the task at hand. His phone, forgotten on the workbench, buzzed furiously with calls and messages. It wasn’t until Danny came barreling into the shop, panting like he’d just run a marathon, that Max looked up.

“Max! Man, what the hell are you doing?” Danny wheezed, clutching his knees.

Max straightened, wiping his hands on a rag. “Uh, working? What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re dying.”

Danny shot him a glare, pointing accusingly at the phone vibrating incessantly on the workbench. “Your wife is trying to call you! She’s in labour, man! She’s having the baby!”

Max froze, the rag slipping from his fingers. “What?”

“She’s at the hospital! Her aunt’s with her, but you need to move! Now!”

Max’s heart lurched into overdrive. Without a word, he sprinted to the workbench, grabbed his phone, and bolted out the door. “Danny, lock up!” he shouted over his shoulder as he jumped onto his bike.

Danny shook his head, muttering, “You owe me for this one, man.”

Max arrived at the hospital in record time, still in his grease-stained shirt and boots. His wife was mid-contraction when he burst into the room, panting, his face a mixture of guilt and relief.

“You’re here,” she said through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing slightly before softening at his frazzled appearance.

“I’m here,” he confirmed, rushing to her side and taking her hand. “I’m sorry, angel. My phone was on silent—”

“Save it,” she hissed, squeezing his hand so tightly he thought his bones might break. “You’re here now. Just don’t let go.”

Max didn’t. Not for a second. Hours later, they welcomed a healthy baby girl into the world. Max cried as he held her for the first time, the tiny bundle swaddled in pink resting against his chest. He looked at his wife, her hair damp and her face radiant despite her exhaustion.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

Their daughter, Mary-Ann, came home a few days later to a little house with a white picket fence that they had purchased not long before her birth. It was a modest place, but it was theirs, filled with laughter, love, and the chaos that only a toddler and a newborn could bring.

Theo was adjusting to his new role as a big brother with enthusiasm and curiosity. He followed his parents around, always asking to hold the baby or show her his toys. “She likes dinosaurs, right?” he would ask, clutching his favourite plastic stegosaurus.

“She loves dinosaurs,” Max assured him, grinning as he ruffled Theo’s hair.

Max had seamlessly embraced fatherhood, splitting his time between the garage and his family. He spent his evenings teaching Theo how to kick a football in the back garden and his nights rocking Mary-Ann to sleep.

The house, with its picket fence and flowerbeds lovingly tended by his wife, was the picture of the life Max had never imagined for himself. Yet, here he was, living it and loving every moment.

The day of Mary-Ann’s baptism dawned clear and bright, the kind of perfect day that made everything feel just a little more magical. Their little family was dressed in their Sunday best, Theo proudly wearing a bowtie that his mother had wrestled him into after much negotiation, and Mary-Ann bundled in a delicate white christening gown.

They arrived at the church to find her aunt, Danny, and a few close friends waiting for them, just as they had for Theo’s baptism years ago. Her aunt immediately swooped in to coo over Mary-Ann, her face soft with affection.

“She’s the spitting image of you at this age,” her aunt said warmly, brushing a soft curl away from Mary-Ann’s forehead.

“Let’s hope she doesn’t inherit my teenage rebellion,” she joked, glancing at Max, who chuckled.

The service itself was intimate and beautiful. As the pastor spoke, Theo sat on Max’s lap, squirming occasionally but staying quiet enough to earn whispered praise from both his parents. When it came time for the baptism, Max and his wife stood together at the front of the church, Theo holding onto his mother’s hand while Max held Mary-Ann close.

The pastor asked Theo if he wanted to say anything, and the boy puffed out his chest importantly, his tiny voice ringing out through the quiet chapel. “We’re all gonna be... um... part of Chris-tain-ity now!”

There was a soft chuckle from the congregation, but Theo frowned, frustrated by his own mispronunciation. His brows knitted together, and before anyone could stop him, he muttered under his breath, “Damn it.”

Max’s head snapped around, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at his son. “Where did you hear that, Theo?”

Without hesitation, Theo turned and pointed to Danny, who froze mid-grin. “Uncle Daddy says it all the time.”

The entire room dissolved into laughter, but Max’s expression darkened. “His name is Uncle Danny. Not Daddy,” he corrected firmly. He handed Mary-Ann to his wife with exaggerated care and then fixed Danny with a dangerous look. “Uncle Danny also has five seconds to run.”

Danny’s eyes widened as he stammered, “Now, hold on a second—”

“Five.”

Danny bolted toward the back of the church, nearly tripping over a pew. Max didn’t miss a beat, stepping around the altar and charging after him. Theo laughed hysterically as he watched his father chase Danny out the door, and his mother shook her head, trying to stifle her own giggles.

When Max returned a few minutes later, slightly winded but victorious, Danny trailing behind him with a sheepish grin, the ceremony continued. The pastor, who had been struggling to keep a straight face, resumed his blessing, and little Mary-Ann was baptised without further incident.

As they left the church, Theo clung to Max’s hand, his face lit with excitement. “Daddy, can I chase Uncle Danny next time?”

Max ruffled his hair, smirking. “Not until you’re faster than me, kid.”

The two of them loved the life they had built together and sometimes when Max woke up he had to pinch himself. Just under half a decade ago he was eating dry hotdogs and drinking stale beers in a rundown trailer. Now he was helping his wife. His wife. In the kitchen with his two kids. Not one, two. Max was a father and everyday he woke up he couldn’t really believe. it.

The smell of cinnamon and vanilla wafted through the house as she stood at the counter, carefully icing a tray of perfectly golden cupcakes. Mary-Ann was nestled in her baby chair nearby, happily chewing on a soft toy, and the kitchen felt like the warm, beating heart of their home.

Out in the garage, Max had Theo standing on a small step stool by the workbench, his tiny hands gripping a wrench that was far too big for him. Max crouched beside him, guiding his hands as they worked on an old oil pan together. Theo giggled every time Max made a joke, his high-pitched laughter filling the air.

She wiped her hands on her apron, grabbed a glass of iced tea, and wandered outside to watch her boys. Leaning against the doorframe, she crossed her arms and smiled. “Teaching him how to change oil already? He’s four, Max.”

Max turned, his grease-streaked face lighting up when he saw her. “Hey, never too early to learn the basics, right, buddy?”

Theo nodded enthusiastically, smearing a streak of oil across his cheek as he waved the wrench triumphantly. “Mama, I’m helping!”

“I can see that,” she laughed, walking over and kissing the top of his messy hair.

As her gaze wandered around the garage, it landed on their old motorbike, tucked into the corner, its polished chrome gleaming even in the dim light. Her smile turned into a smirk, and she gestured toward it with her glass. “You know, you’re going to have to sell that death trap.”

Max froze mid-laugh, a look of horror crossing his face. “What? No way. We’ve got so many memories with that bike.”

“We have two kids now, Max.”

He frowned, standing up and crossing his arms. “But what if Theo wants it when he grows up?”

She raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on her hip. “He’s not stepping a foot on that thing.”

Max threw his hands up in exaggerated protest. “Oh, so when it’s us, it’s fine, but when it’s Theo, it’s a problem?”

She grinned, completely unbothered. “Yup.”

Before he could argue further, Danny strolled into the garage, a familiar plastic container in hand. “Alright, where’s the good stuff? I heard there’s baking going on in that kitchen, and you know the deal—Danny gets dibs.”

She laughed, pointing toward the house. “I’ll bring you some in a second. Just made a fresh batch.”

As Danny leaned against the workbench, Max glanced at him, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, Danny, you wanna buy that death trap over there?”

Danny raised an eyebrow, glancing at the bike. “How much are we talking?”

Max grinned. “Fifty bucks.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

Max smirked, holding out a hand. “You buy it, but I still get to use it whenever I want.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head but reaching out to shake Max’s hand anyway. “You got yourself a deal, man.”

Max turned to her with a triumphant grin, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans. “See? It’s sold. Problem solved.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head but smiling as she headed back into the house. “You two are impossible.”

As she disappeared into the kitchen, Max knelt back down beside Theo, who looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.

“Daddy, what’s a death trap?”

Max chuckled, ruffling his hair. “It’s something fun that your mom doesn’t like.”

From the kitchen, she called out, “I heard that!”

While she packed up some of her baked goods for Danny she too thought of how lucky she was. How all her prayers had been listened to. How she finally made it out of that house. How she was going to witness all her own kid’s life milestones with joy and love, not hatred and jealousy. 

The morning of Theo’s first day of school, the sunlight streamed through the windows as the family bustled to get ready. Theo stood proudly in his brand-new school uniform, his backpack almost as big as he was. Mary-Ann, her curls tied up in tiny pigtails, was toddling around in her nursery outfit, clutching her stuffed bunny like it was her lifeline.

Their mother, however, was a whirlwind of emotions. She double-checked Theo’s lunchbox for the third time and nearly forgot to zip Mary-Ann’s coat, all while blinking back tears.

“I can’t believe they’re both going,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she fixed Theo’s collar for the tenth time.

Max, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee, tried to hide his grin. “Sweetheart, they’re not moving out. It’s just school and nursery.”

She shot him a glare. “Don’t start with me today, Max.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Come here, buddy,” he said, crouching down to Theo’s level. “You ready for your big day?”

Theo nodded, his little chest puffed out. “I’m gonna make so many friends!”

Max ruffled his hair. “That’s my boy. And you,” he added, turning to Mary-Ann and lifting her into his arms. “You take care of those nursery teachers, alright? Show ‘em who’s boss.”

Mary-Ann giggled, planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek.

After a bittersweet drop-off that left her sniffling the entire car ride home, they returned to their now eerily quiet house. For the first time in years, it was just the two of them.

She walked into the living room, glanced at the toys still scattered around, and sighed heavily, sinking into the couch. “It’s too quiet.”

Max sat beside her, pulling her into his side. “I told you this morning was gonna hit you hard.”

She swatted his chest lightly. “It’s just… I’ve never been in the house without one of them here. It’s so empty.” She buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled. “What if they need me? What if Mary-Ann gets scared? Or Theo forgets his lunch?”

Max chuckled softly, rubbing her back. “Sweetheart, Theo’s got this. The kid’s practically running for class president. And Mary-Ann? She’s gonna have the nursery wrapped around her finger before lunch.”

She peeked at him from behind her hands, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You think so?”

“I know so.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple.

For a moment, she leaned into him, letting the comfort of his presence soothe her. But the silence of the house pressed in again, making her sigh.

Max pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, we’ve got the house all to ourselves now.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Max…”

He grinned, running his fingers lightly up her arm. “I’m just saying. We’ve got a whole empty house and a few hours of peace.”

Despite herself, she laughed, smacking his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m practical,” he countered, leaning closer. “We might never get this chance again, angel. Think about it.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. “I can’t believe you’re suggesting this right now.”

“I’m just trying to make the most of the quiet,” he teased, his hand slipping around her waist. “And besides, you’re way too stressed. Let me help you relax.”

She laughed despite herself, the weight of the morning momentarily forgotten as he kissed her neck, his stubble tickling her skin.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, tilting her head to meet his lips, her heart finally feeling a little lighter.

And if she counted the exact weeks, that day was how she ended up pregnant with her third and final child.

Nine months later, their family grew again with the arrival of a boy they named Daniel. It was a tribute to Danny, their ever-reliable friend who had, over the years, become less like a buddy and more like an honorary member of the family.

Daniel came into the world with a loud cry and a shock of dark hair, immediately staking his place in the chaos of their household. Mary-Ann, now three and brimming with sass, had proudly declared herself the "boss" of her new baby brother. She often toddled around after him, dragging her favourite stuffed bunny in one hand and fussing over Daniel like a miniature mother.

Theo, at five, took his role as the eldest sibling very seriously. He loved showing off to Mary-Ann and anyone who’d listen about how he could hold his baby brother “without dropping him” (a feat Max closely supervised with a hovering hand). Theo also began peppering Max with endless questions about how cars worked, proudly announcing that he’d take over the garage one day.

The house was louder now, bursting with life and love in every corner. Daniel’s cries, Theo’s endless chatter, and Mary-Ann’s theatrical storytelling meant there was never a dull moment.

Max had learned to juggle bottles, bedtime stories, and car repairs, often collapsing into bed with her at the end of the day, marvelling at the whirlwind their life had become.

On quieter days—though “quiet” was a stretch—she’d watch Max play with the kids in their backyard. Mary-Ann would climb all over him, Theo would ask a million questions about the engine of a toy car, and baby Daniel would sit in his lap, chewing on whatever he could grab.

Sunday mornings had become a cherished tradition for her. Dressing Theo in his little button-up shirts, coaxing Mary-Ann into tights and her favourite frilly dress, and cradling baby Daniel in his soft onesie all felt like sacred rituals. She loved sharing her faith with her children, teaching them the hymns, and watching their faces light up during Sunday school.

But as much as she loved church, there was always a weight to bear. Her parents still attended the same church, their presence lingering like a spectre of the past. While most of the congregation had embraced her family with warmth, her parents had not. They’d sit on the far side of the pews, casting disapproving glares, and every so often, there were whispers—cutting, cruel words spread by those who believed her parents' version of events.

Still, she focused on her children. Theo beamed when he memorised Bible verses, Mary-Ann proudly showed off her colouring pages, and baby Daniel giggled at the choir. Sharing this part of her life with them felt like reclaiming something pure.

That afternoon, the church hosted a children’s Bible study, and she stayed to help with crafts and snacks while Max wrangled the baby. Daniel was perfectly content napping on his dad’s chest while Max sat in the corner, earning approving glances from the other parents for his patience and attentiveness.

As they packed up to leave, her father appeared, stepping out of the shadows like a storm cloud. His eyes were cold, his expression a mask of disdain. He walked past her, close enough that she could feel the venom in his whispered word:

"Whore."

The word cut through her like a knife. She froze, her heart pounding, the air sucked out of the room. Before she could even react, Max’s voice broke the moment.

"Angel, hold Daniel."

She turned to him, startled, as he handed her the baby with a calmness that belied the fire in his eyes. Then, without hesitation, Max spun on his heel and marched toward her father.

The sound of Max’s fist connecting with her father’s jaw was thunderous in the quiet room. Her father staggered back, clutching his face, as gasps rippled through the remaining churchgoers.

Max stood tall, his voice steady but cold. “Don’t you ever call my wife that again. You lost any right to speak to her the day you hurt her and abused your power. She’s a better person than you’ll ever be.”

Her father glared up at Max, but he didn’t dare rise. The weight of his disgrace was palpable as the onlookers murmured, their judgement no longer directed at her but at the man who had insulted his own daughter in a house of worship.

She stood rooted to the spot, Daniel cradled in her arms, her cheeks flushed. She could feel every eye in the room on her, but the only one that mattered was Max’s. He turned back to her, his expression softening, and strode toward her.

Max placed a gentle hand on her back, his touch grounding her. “Let’s go, angel,” he said quietly, his voice carrying none of the anger from moments before.

She nodded, unable to form words, and followed him out, their children close by. As they left the church, she glanced down at Theo and Mary-Ann, both wide-eyed but clutching each other’s hands tightly.

When they got to the car, she took a deep, shaky breath. “Max—”

He cut her off with a kiss to her temple. “Don’t. You don’t owe him anything. Not even your anger.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she leaned into him, Daniel squirming lightly in her arms. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Max tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. “You and these kids are my family. No one, not even him, gets to treat you like that.”

taglist: @sinofwriting @le-le-lea @vanicogh @iamred-iamyellow @rayaskoalaland @spookyanamurdock @iimplicitt @hellowgoodbye @maximuminfluencerstarlight @lottalove4evelyn @piceous21 @ladscarlett @leclerc13 @linnygirl09 @labelledejourr @cmleitora @fortunapre @felicityforyou @isagrace22 @bookishnerd1132 @formulaal @mastermindbaby @daddyslittlevillain @inmynotes63 @litllefox @hollstopia

@ Anakin Skywalker × Female!Reader

— english is not my first language; I'm just trying to practice don't pay attencion to this please

⚠️ mentions of rape and violence

tags: angst and a little of confort

Summary: Someone tried to rape reader while Anakin was on a mission, the last thing that the reader wants, is to talk about it. — ao3

Anakin was coming back from a successful mission, joking around with Ashoka about how many droids they destroyed, a normal habit. He was so excited from coming back home that he couldn't suppress his smile; but Obi Wan, who received them, wasn't happy. 

While the others masters looked like always, serious. Obi Wan looked at Anakin with worried eyes. 

" Is something wrong, Master? " Anakin asked, a little disappointed for not seeing you on the platform waiting for him, he wanted to be with you so bad. Stepping far from the others, finally his master answered. 

" Promise me that you are not going to freak out " Obi Wan pursed his lips, while Anakin frowns with a confused look.

" Why? " Anakin tried it to make a smile to hide his bad mood , if he was going to be sent to another long mission, he was not going to be able to bear it. Obi Wan gave him the look—I'm not going to answer until you promise—. " Okay, I promise. What happened? "

Obi Wan sighs before telling him that in the last gathering you showed up trying to hide some bruises on your body, and when Obi Wan interrogated you about it, you only said that it was nothing. Obi Wan couldn't just ignore it, you were a Senator and if you were in some kind of danger, he should inform it.

And he knows that you are close to Anakin, probably more than you should,  seeing how his padawan left barely he ended the sentence, confirmed his thoughts.

In your room, a sweet cup of tea aromatizes while you're reading papers from work. Your clothes hid the bruises on your skin, even though it had been a few days they still hurt when you pressed them. Knowing Anakin was arriving today, the concerning feeling about how you were gonna pass unnoticed makes you wanna throw out. 

Lying to Anakin wasn't one of your favorites activities, at all. However, telling him the reason for your bruises could ruin everything, could make him hate you. And that was the last thing you wanted. 

Even though you spent the last few days figuring out how to deal with this, when Anakin appeared in front of you, you realized that you weren't prepared at all. Getting inside of your room, Anakin didn't hesitate in grabbing your hand and lifting up the sleeve of your dress, watching the bruises of differents colors caused a huge impact on the jedi. You tried to hide them with your other hand but Anakin didn't allow it. 

" Who did this to you? " His eyes full of anger made you swallow, trying to keep calm.

" It's okay, Anakin. It's not a big deal" with a smile you stand up, your heart beat painfully. This was not going to work. 

" It's not okay, and you know it. Tell me who the person is." He wasn't asking, you avoided his touch, feeling that your disgusted skin didn't deserve to be touched for no one you loved. Maybe If you revealed a little of the truth he would let you forget it. 

" I really don't know" 

But Anakin didn't let you get away, trapping you between the desk and his body, your hand covered by his gentle touch made you wanna cry. 

" How did this happen?" He was so close that you could feel his breath, your eyes down revealed that you didn't want to look at him. Nevertheless Anakin wasn't going to give up "Love, how did this happen?" 

Feeling like you were collapsing, your cheek was held by Anakin, you looked up with a miserable expression.

"Can't we just forget about this? I really don't want to talk about it." You wanted Anakin to hold you close enough to wipe the dirt off your body.  He did, he hugged you around your waist and hiding his head on your shoulder.  After a long time, you finally felt safe.

You weren't prepared to relive that night, and Anakin could feel your pain, promising himself that he would find the person who hurt you and pay for It.

wtf why this have so many likes???? I made many mistakes stop reading please 😭😭😭

@ Anakin Skywalker × Female!Reader

— english is not my first language; I'm just trying to practice don't pay attencion to this please

⚠️ mentions of rape and violence

tags: angst and a little of confort

Summary: Someone tried to rape reader while Anakin was on a mission, the last thing that the reader wants, is to talk about it. — ao3

Anakin was coming back from a successful mission, joking around with Ashoka about how many droids they destroyed, a normal habit. He was so excited from coming back home that he couldn't suppress his smile; but Obi Wan, who received them, wasn't happy. 

While the others masters looked like always, serious. Obi Wan looked at Anakin with worried eyes. 

" Is something wrong, Master? " Anakin asked, a little disappointed for not seeing you on the platform waiting for him, he wanted to be with you so bad. Stepping far from the others, finally his master answered. 

" Promise me that you are not going to freak out " Obi Wan pursed his lips, while Anakin frowns with a confused look.

" Why? " Anakin tried it to make a smile to hide his bad mood , if he was going to be sent to another long mission, he was not going to be able to bear it. Obi Wan gave him the look—I'm not going to answer until you promise—. " Okay, I promise. What happened? "

Obi Wan sighs before telling him that in the last gathering you showed up trying to hide some bruises on your body, and when Obi Wan interrogated you about it, you only said that it was nothing. Obi Wan couldn't just ignore it, you were a Senator and if you were in some kind of danger, he should inform it.

And he knows that you are close to Anakin, probably more than you should,  seeing how his padawan left barely he ended the sentence, confirmed his thoughts.

In your room, a sweet cup of tea aromatizes while you're reading papers from work. Your clothes hid the bruises on your skin, even though it had been a few days they still hurt when you pressed them. Knowing Anakin was arriving today, the concerning feeling about how you were gonna pass unnoticed makes you wanna throw out. 

Lying to Anakin wasn't one of your favorites activities, at all. However, telling him the reason for your bruises could ruin everything, could make him hate you. And that was the last thing you wanted. 

Even though you spent the last few days figuring out how to deal with this, when Anakin appeared in front of you, you realized that you weren't prepared at all. Getting inside of your room, Anakin didn't hesitate in grabbing your hand and lifting up the sleeve of your dress, watching the bruises of differents colors caused a huge impact on the jedi. You tried to hide them with your other hand but Anakin didn't allow it. 

" Who did this to you? " His eyes full of anger made you swallow, trying to keep calm.

" It's okay, Anakin. It's not a big deal" with a smile you stand up, your heart beat painfully. This was not going to work. 

" It's not okay, and you know it. Tell me who the person is." He wasn't asking, you avoided his touch, feeling that your disgusted skin didn't deserve to be touched for no one you loved. Maybe If you revealed a little of the truth he would let you forget it. 

" I really don't know" 

But Anakin didn't let you get away, trapping you between the desk and his body, your hand covered by his gentle touch made you wanna cry. 

" How did this happen?" He was so close that you could feel his breath, your eyes down revealed that you didn't want to look at him. Nevertheless Anakin wasn't going to give up "Love, how did this happen?" 

Feeling like you were collapsing, your cheek was held by Anakin, you looked up with a miserable expression.

"Can't we just forget about this? I really don't want to talk about it." You wanted Anakin to hold you close enough to wipe the dirt off your body.  He did, he hugged you around your waist and hiding his head on your shoulder.  After a long time, you finally felt safe.

You weren't prepared to relive that night, and Anakin could feel your pain, promising himself that he would find the person who hurt you and pay for It.

I love reading so much 😭😭 uni made me forget how much I love stories

I was talking with a friend about fanfics and when I said that when I like an author I write down their username and that sometimes I even write phrases about them SHE CALLED ME CREEPY