GOD TAKE AWAY ALL THE EVIL AND BAD ENERGIES FROM FRANCO AND YUKI AND GIVE THEM TO CHRISTIAN HORNER

Sebastian Vettel with Schumacher daughter? Age Gap/Forbidden love affair?

SV5 ★ secrets and kisses

★ Summary: Sebastian adored being your boyfriend, even if that meant lying to his idol. In where Sebastian and you, the daughter of Michael Schumacher, are in a secret relationship.

★ Sebastian Vettel x Schumacher Daughter. ★ Forbidden Love. Fluff. Kisses. ★ im thinking in a second part

You barely remember Seb as a child, not that you should feel guilty about that, life was busy then and there were so many people in your life that it was hard to keep him so present years later. But for Seb, your existence was still in the back of his mind, even after all this time; when you met again in the paddock, it was instantaneous, the feeling, the looks and the speed of your heartbeats were synchronized. Every night before you went to sleep you thought about all the things Seb had said during the day, their fleeting encounters and the interviews he gave after the races. Even though the feelings were there at first sight, the road to stability was a little slower. 

Every time they saw each other, they were surrounded by other pilots, which kept them together, since despite their age difference, they were still among the youngest. This gave them an excuse to spend more time together, but it should be made clear that even if the conversations were fluid and they always had a great time together, both kept their desires buried deep in their hearts and only let themselves be seen under the fascination of their eyes whenever they met. You could say that the mask of a mere friendly relationship was broken when Seb gave you a kiss on the cheek at one of the many parties, as innocent as it was, it changed everything for you. 

His rosy cheeks and the disappearance of Seb's self—confident attitude made you rest your lips on his. Fleeting, sweet and full of experiences to be discovered. That same night, on the balcony covered with plants, the German asked you to go out with him and you accepted. 

Almost half a year had passed since that first date when you and Seb became engaged and you couldn't be happier. Of course, it had its complications, the schedules of a Formula 1 driver and a college student with panic attacks about failing were not easy to manage, and there was another little problem. Hiding it from your father, Michael Schumacher. You weren't sure how your father, who had previously warned you that F1 drivers were a no—go area (and to be honest, you hadn't been that interested until Seb's arrival), would react, and on top of that, your father was your boyfriend's biggest idol and absolutely refused to let him down. For these reasons, your dates consisted of meetings in your car with fast food or simple walks listening to music during the weekends that you had a career (although it was not always possible because many times you did not accompany your father), while during the week they usually met in your apartment. It was no big deal, a small apartment that you had asked your parents for, with the excuse that you wanted to be closer to the university and that it was hard for you to concentrate at home with your siblings, they accepted on the condition that you could provide your own food. So, in addition to all the obstacles that were placed in front of your relationship, there were the hours of tutoring that you offered to the children in order to feed yourself. But it was all worth it. You were privileged, and having an apartment to meet Seb was an incredible advantage in your secret relationship. 

—You're coming to Monaco,” Seb asked, sitting on the floor as they ate at your coffee table in front of the TV. 

—Should I? I have a couple of essays due—Seb looked at you as you pursed your lips, you seemed to be thinking about it—But if I bring my computer I should come.

Your boyfriend smiled and unconsciously his shoulders shrugged in happiness. 

—That's good, we'll be able to sneak out in the evening—and slightly tilting towards your body with a mischievous smile he added—and I can help you with your homework. 

—Yes, sure. Homework—you rolled your eyes and Seb laughed quietly as he ate. He was so happy that his cheeks were red and sore. 

                                                     ──────────────────

The weather in Monaco was nice, you were wearing a tank top and an ankle—length blue skirt, a cool wind was blowing in from the balcony of your room and you decided to add a black jacket just in case the weather got even colder. Your younger brother looked at you with an arched eyebrow when you added pearl earrings to your outfit.

—Are you going out?" your brother questioned, not taking his eyes off his mobile phone.

—Yep — you didn't lie. You checked that everything was in your bag, and before you left you glanced briefly at your brother, "Don't stay playing and go out to dinner, at least with dad.

He nodded and you left the room walking down the corridors of the hotel with a smile on your face. As soon as you reached the lobby you spotted your dad talking to his friends and among them, Seb. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood and was joking loudly, you approached slowly and your boyfriend was the first one to see you with a little wave of his hand, which your father turned away from. Just as everyone was joking, they also greeted you. You approached your father just to say hello and let him know that you were going out with friends, you lied. He nodded, whispering to take care of yourself and not to come back late, you shook your head in agreement and before you left, you glanced briefly at Seb, whose eyes were, as usual in your presence, sparkling.

The plan was the same every race weekend, you would leave a few minutes early with the excuse that you would spend the night with your friends or colleagues, you would wait a few minutes a block away from the hotel they were staying at and Seb would come by with his car to pick you up and spend the evening together. It was one of their favourite activities to eat snacks in the car while they were driving and then they would buy food to take away and enjoy the evening in a prominent place in the city where the race was taking place.

You waited a few minutes on a well—lit corner and before you could even get bored of looking at the beautiful golden poles, Seb appeared in front of you with his rented car. You quickly hopped off the curb and opened the car door, Seb grabbed your bag as you settled into the seat and left a kiss on your cheek. You buckled in and he rested your bag on your lap.

—Ready?" Seb raised his eyebrows as if they were about to run a race.

—You grabbed the handle of your bag and Seb pulled away, smiling.

—You don't know," he asked as if it were obvious as he averted his eyes from the road for half a second to give you one of his cocky smiles, "We're going to spend our dinner at the best place in Monaco.

You pursed your lips into a smile; he was always so self—confident, so confident of making you nervous with the simplest acts that he managed to leave you speechless. You swallowed as you watched him turn down the streets of Monaco, he always drove with one hand and it would hurt your pride to accept how handsome he looked when he did.

—By the way, congratulations on passing the General Psychology exam — Seb congratulated you and that made your heart pound, but without thinking too much you shouted.

—How do you know that? I wanted to tell you at dinner," you stammered awkwardly, slapping his thigh; at your reaction Seb laughed hysterically, realising that it wasn't you who had told him, "You were guessing?

—No, no, honey," your heart trembled slightly at the nickname, before Seb continued laughing and tapped the steering wheel gently as he parked in front of a beautiful restaurant. He entangled his hands and with a kiss he placed on your forehead, he added, "Michael's been bragging about it all afternoon.

You gasped at the thought of your father bragging to his friends about something as mundane as passing an exam, especially in front of Seb. You covered your face with the palm of your hands and when you opened your mouth to moan, Seb spoke again.

—And I think you should too.

You frowned uncomprehendingly as you pulled your hands away from his face.

—What?

—You know, bragging, being proud of what you accomplish—Seb shrugged but his gaze was steady—You should be more proud of your accomplishments, I am. Every time we meet and you tell me how you've been studying so hard and how well you've done, it just makes me so happy.

You fluttered your eyelashes not believing what you were hearing, your hand trembled and being held still by Seb noticed the slight movement and tilted his head leaving another kiss on your cheek.

—I'm going to get our food." Seb got out of the car, the heat that had formed between his hands slowly subsided but the tingling did not. You felt yourself swallow hard before you threw yourself down on the seat laughing and wiggling your feet, Seb liked it so much that the only thing you wanted at that moment was for him to feel that way too.

                                          ──────────────────

The night in Monaco was quieter than you would think. They had settled near a park, which due to the timetable was closed and they couldn't walk around. Having finished all your food we took the opportunity to rest your legs on Seb's lap with your back against the door. You were telling him about one of the many dramas of your university. Even if he pretended not to, Seb loved drama and even more so if it didn't involve him.

—I swear she rejected him, and he was really angry — you waved your hands dramatising the whole situation.

—That's not very nice," Seb commented. "Obviously being rejected isn't the best experience, but getting angry at the person I doubt it makes it any better.

—Exactly! And then he accused her of taking advantage of him and threw the ice cream on her dress—you paused and slapped your thigh hard—God, an ice cream Seb! If someone really did that to me they wouldn't have any hairs left to pluck.

—That's really awful, but now that you mention it," Seb began, registering your curious stare, "It's time for us to go get some ice cream.

Lowering your legs off his body you both celebrated your successful night with loud music and silly singing, at a traffic light you came to ask him.

—How are you feeling about the weekend," Seb hadn't mentioned the subject all night which surprised you, it's not like he could tell you the team's strategies but he kept a pretty wide berth for the expression of his feelings about racing. Seb scratched the back of his neck and, with his eyes on the road, replied.

—I'm not sure... For some reason everyone seems so interested in winning in Monaco that the fact that it's not so special to me keeps me... Confused.

—Seb... I can assure you that Monaco is not that important, I mean no more than other races," you assured with a confidence that made your boyfriend grimace, "Really, you'll do fine.

—Well, if a Schumacher says so, I guess I'll just have to listen to him," Seb's car got closer and closer to the busy streets of Monaco and as soon as they found a place to park for ice cream they pulled over with smiles already formed from anticipation. Opening the car door, you didn't hold back your comment.

—Of course, the winning instinct is in my blood," you exclaimed, putting your foot on the floor and looking up, and before you could warn him, you grabbed Seb's elbow to pull him into the car and slammed the door abruptly shut, stowing yourself in the safety of the car. Seb, who still didn't understand, screamed.

 You covered his mouth with your palm only to direct your eyes a few metres away from you, where Michael Schumacher was leaving a restaurant with his friends and your brother. You both held your breath.

they get politicians to present trophies. they allow donald trump as a guest. they sing national anthems in countries with human rights issues. but if a driver is political they get a fine, suspension, or a deduction of championship points?

dictatorship.

A chance | LN4

Summary: Lando has been in love with the same person since he was 18. The problem? She doesn't think it will work out because he's younger.

Pairing: Lando Norris X Actress!Reader

English is not my first language, maybe I will do a part two 👀

"Why don't you want to be with me?" Lando says close to Y/n's ear so she can hear.

They were at a party, Lando was P1, and that night was all about him.

"Lando, why don't you enjoy your night?" She says pushing him a little and he kisses her cheek.

"I'm trying to do this, but the prettiest girl at the party is turning me down once again."

Y/n rolls her eyes but smiles, fixing Lando's hair with her hands.

"I already told you-"

"I know, I know, I'm younger than you, but you need to understand that 18-year-old Lando already dreamed of Y/n 22 and now 25-year-old Lando dreams of Y/n 29 and 85-year-old Lando will dream of Y/n... How old will you be?" He says, thinking a little.

"Fuck you're so drunk." She says laughing and he smiles when he sees her smile.

"Fuck you're so beautiful." Lando leans in to kiss her, but Y/n turns her face away.

"Lando, no." Y/n says, gently pinching Lando's belly, making him pull away with a grimace.

"Come on, give me a chance, just one kiss and I promise to stop bothering you." She thinks for a bit.

"I know you won't stop."

"Please, I promise I'll stop." He says, dropping the glass he was holding anywhere, and takes Y/n's face with both hands. "Can I?" He asks inches from her mouth.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" Lando crushes his lips to hers, and my God, it was so worth it to almost beg her on his knees.

Lando asks for passage with his tongue and when he gives in, he just wants to stay there forever.

The kiss gets hotter and Y/n pulls away a little to be able to breathe.

"What a delicious mouth." He says, pulling her lower lip with his teeth and giving her three little pecks.

"Have you gotten your kiss yet, satisfied?"

"I wanted your heart, but I'll hold back with a kiss."

"You don't give up, do you?" She says, putting her arms around her shoulders.

"Never, 18 year old Lando wouldn't believe the girl in my arms right now." Lando always speaks close to her ear so she can understand everything.

"Congratulations, P1." Y/n says kissing Lando's cheek and he feels that this kiss practically sobered him up again.

"Will I get a kiss like this every time I get P1?"

"Don't force it, Cat." She says, walking away and Lando takes her hand again.

"Nooo, you can't do this." Lando says whimpering.

"You promised Lando."

"I promised?" Lando says pulling her by the waist, and kissing her lips again, this time more slowly, more passionate, it was as if they weren't in a crowded place, and God, Y/n is praying that no one took any pictures of this.

But they took it away.

A few hours later the news was all over social media.

F1news Things are heating up! 👀 Lando Norris and Y/n are seen kissing at the party celebrating Lando's P1, some people who were on the way back confirmed that they spent practically the whole night close to each other, could a relationship be on the way?

—

User1 What the fuck is this?

User2 Wow, isn't she much older than him?

— User3 It's only four years girl 🙄

User4 Why is everyone so surprised?

— User5 Yes, Lando had already said that she has been his celebrity crush since he was 18.

User6 I think I'm jealous of Lando.

— user7 I think I'm jealous of both of them.

User8 Well, he never hid the fact that he was interested in her.

User9 Have you ever imagined the beautiful child that would be born?

— User 10 She's much older than him...

User 11 Damn, stop treating her like her age is wrong or something.

——

Y/n wakes up with her phone vibrating like crazy.

"Where the fuck is this?" She gropes blindly on the bed until she finds the device, reading the following messages:

Lando: Please don't be mad at me.

Lando: Are you mad at me? 😟

She sits on the bed, a little confused, why would she be mad at him? But soon she also sees some messages from Carlos.

Carlos: Please don't be mad at Lando.

Carlos: He swears he didn't want to cause a scandal for you.

Carlos: Yes, he forced me to send this, block this bastard now.

And to top it off, she sees a message from her best friend.

Bestf: Seriously Lando? And you still swore to me that you didn't want to get him 😏

She closes her eyes and lies down on the bed again, she already knows exactly what happened.

Fuck.

okay I wrote something about Carlos BUT I wrote it in my notebook and I'm very lazy to make it digital

Knight of My Heart

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

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

1.7k words / Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Taking your makeup off,” he said simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Very.”

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

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

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

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

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

Prank Wars | CS55 x Reader

pairing . . . carlos sainz x gf!reader

summary . . . In the midst of your prank war with Carlos, you notice that your favourite handbag has gone missing

request . . . no!

word count . . . 813

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . got this idea in the car and HAD to write it!! hope you guys enjoy <33

. . . The sun was beginning to dip, painting the poolside in hues of gold and orange as you strolled back from the coffee shop. Your favourite drink in hand, you felt the familiar dread of the ongoing prank war you and Carlos had been engrossed in. You’d only stepped away for twenty minutes tops to grab your drink and take a break from the relentless back and forth of your pranks. But as you returned to your lounge chair, a sinking feeling set in.

Your towel was still neatly folded on the chair, your shoes exactly where you’d left them. But your handbag, the one you adored, the one that had survived countless trips, spills, and memories, was gone.

You glanced around, your mind immediately jumping to the prime suspect.

"Carlos!" you shouted, spinning in a slow circle to catch sight of him. Nothing.

Your suspicion only deepened when you remembered the way he’d been acting earlier: too innocent, too calm. That man had 'up to something' written all over him, and now your favorite bag had mysteriously disappeared.

Marching toward the house, you pushed open the sliding door. "Carlos!"

"In here!" His voice spoke from the courtyard, overly casual, overly cheerful.

You rounded the corner and found him leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone like he didn’t have a care in the world. When he glanced up at you, his expression was so innocent it was downright incriminating.

"Hey, hermosa," he greeted cheerfully. "You look a little tense. Everything okay?"

"Don’t you dare," you warned, pointing a finger at him. “Where is it?”

"Where’s what?" he asked, his voice dripping with fakke confusion.

"My bag, Carlos. My favorite bag. Don’t play dumb, you’re bad at it."

He shrugged, the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I have no idea what you’re talking about. Did you lose it?"

You stared at him, eyes narrowing. "You are the worst liar I’ve ever met."

He shrugged again, his smirk growing wider, and you spun on your heels, storming back toward the pool area. If he wasn’t going to confess, you’d find the evidence yourself.

As you scanned the area, something caught your eye. Floating peacefully in the pool, bobbing along the gentle waves, was your handbag.

"Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me," you muttered under your breath, your blood starting to boil.

"Carlos!" you yelled, turning to face him. He had followed you outside, and the second your eyes met, he burst into laughter.

"Okay, okay, listen to me!" he said between fits of laughter, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Carlos Sainz," you said through gritted teeth, "if you think this is funny-"

"It’s not like that, hermosa! I swear!" He stepped closer, his grin still plastered across his face. "Just wait a second, okay?"

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. He jogged over to a lounge chair on the other side of the pool and picked up a beautiful shopping bag with an unmistakable designer logo.

"What is that?" you asked suspiciously as he approached you.

"Well," he started, looking a little shy as he handed you the bag, "I thought your handbag was looking a little… tired, and a bit old. So, I got you a new one."

You blinked, staring at him and then at the shopping bag in your hands. Pulling out the tissue paper, your jaw dropped as you revealed the stunning, elegant handbag inside. The very one you’d been eyeing for months but never had the heart to buy. Or never had the heart to replace your old bag with.

"Carlos…" Your voice softened, the annoyance melting away.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his grin turning a bit sheepish.

You glanced back at the pool, where your old bag was still floating like some abandoned pool float, and then back at him. "Carlos, you dunked my bag in the pool!"

"I’ll take it out!" he promised quickly, holding his hands up again. "But come on, admit it, you love this one."

You bit back a smile, running your fingers over the expensive leather of the new bag. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. It was perfect.

"You’re lucky you’re hot," you muttered, shaking your head.

He laughed, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you. "You know, hermosa, if this is how I win the prank war, I think I deserve bonus points."

You shoved him lightly, but your grin betrayed you. "This isn’t over, Carlos."

"Not until I get your bag out of the pool," he teased, kissing your lips gently.

And as you stood there, new handbag in hand and his arms wrapped around you, you realized that no matter how ridiculous his pranks got, you’d always let him win in the end.

How couldn't you when he made all your dreams come true?

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

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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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Night Routine

hii could you write something about lewis very fluffy?? idk like their morning together or their night routine 🤍 from @prttylight 

lewis hamilton x gf!reader

The intoxicating smell of fresh herbs blending together for dinner greets Lewis as he arrives home after a long day of meetings. Shrugging off his coat, he rounds the hallway corner, stopping to lean against the entryway and watching you.

You are unaware of his presence, having missed the sound of the door opening and closing, too busy listening to a podcast while making soup for dinner. He watches you for a bit before coming up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and startling you.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss against your temple.

“Hi, Lew,” you reply, turning to smile up at him. “How was your day?”

“Busy,” he answers simply. “How was yours?”

You shrug, turning back to the pot in front of you. “Productive, for the most part.”

“Good,” he mumbles against your neck, not wanting to let go. Lewis is a very clingy man, especially behind closed doors.

“Why don’t you go change? Dinner will be ready when you’re back,” you suggest, and he reluctantly lets go, heading into the bedroom.

He returns just as you’re ladling the soup into bowls and setting them on the table.

As Lewis sits down, you can’t help but notice how his eyes light up at the sight of the steaming bowls in front of him. He reaches for your hand across the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“This looks amazing, love. Thank you,” he says, his voice warm with appreciation.

You smile back, feeling a flutter in your chest at his words. “You’re welcome. I hope you like it.”

As you both begin to eat, Lewis tells you more about his day, the meetings he had, and the plans for the upcoming race weekend. You listen intently, offering words of encouragement and support. It’s these quiet moments together that you cherish the most, away from the cameras and the public eye.

After dinner, Lewis insists on doing the dishes, shooing you away to relax. You curl up on the couch with a book but find yourself watching him instead, admiring the focus and concentration he has for something so simple. Your eyes trail from his face to his toned body, and you get lost in the view, only pulled back to reality when you hear him clear his throat.

“You’re staring,” he muses, and you smirk.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you tease, and he lets out a small laugh.

He grabs his own book off the shelf and joins you in the living room. You sit up to make space for him, and he pulls a pillow onto his lap so you can lie back down comfortably.

He interrupts your reading every so often to tell you about something interesting he’s come across, and you’re amused by how excited he gets. Once it gets later in the night, you yawn, and Lewis immediately closes his book.

“Shower, then bed?” he suggests, and you nod sleepily.

You follow him into the bathroom, stripping off your clothes as he gets the shower ready.

The warm water cascades over your bodies as you step into the shower together. Lewis gently massages shampoo into your hair, his fingers working out the tension from the day. You lean into his touch, sighing contentedly.

“Turn around,” he murmurs, and you comply. He begins to wash your back, his strong hands kneading your muscles. You can’t help but let out a soft moan of pleasure.

“Feel good?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Mmhmm,” you respond, too relaxed to form words.

After rinsing off, you return the favor, washing Lewis’s back. He closes his eyes, savoring your touch.

Once clean, you both step out of the shower, wrapping yourselves in fluffy towels. Lewis pulls you close, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” he whispers, staring deeply into your eyes.

“I love you too, and I love nights like these,” you reply softly.

You dry off and change into comfortable pajamas, Lewis opting for just a pair of sweatpants.

In the bedroom, you climb into bed, immediately snuggling close to Lewis as he wraps an arm around you. He traces lazy patterns on your skin with his fingertips, the gentle touch soothing you toward sleep.

✦ Minhyuk y Moonbin

Pedido N° 2: Park Minhyuk y Moon Bin 

Extencion: 3.2k 

Tags: stepbrothers, angst pero happy ending, malentendidos por todas partes 

also in ao3

Moon Bin había tomado la decisión de irse de su casa a los diecinueve años, su madre no entendía su decisión tan repentina, pero no lo detuvo. Su padrastro ni siquiera opino, su relación no era mala, al contrario, le tenía mucho cariño sin embargo habían hecho un trato silencioso en el que ninguno se entrometía en las decisiones del otro y eso funcionó. 

Vivir con Dongmin tampoco había sido fácil, porque en el momento que acordaron lo de irse a vivir juntos, Bin se había olvidado que su amigo salía con Sanha; quien era una pulga de la cual no podía deshacerse ni con el peor de los venenos. Y eso, lo hizo sentir aún más solo.  

Diez años después, Bin con un trabajo estable y departamento propio, se dio cuenta de que no importara cuanto se alejara e intentara engañarse a sí mismo, la única persona por la que podría dejar todo, era la única que incluso si suplicara, jamás le correspondería. 

Es por eso que la silueta de Park Minhyuk apareció en las oficinas de Marketing junto al jefe Bam, él quiso esconderse en su oficina y llorar por horas, realmente pensó que lo había superado aunque sea un poco. Que tan equivocado se encontraba, cuando los latidos de su corazón revivieron luego de años en calma el calor de su cuerpo se hizo evidente, y sus subordinados parece que también lo notaron. 

—Señor Moon, ¿se encuentra bien? 

—Si, prepárense—casi que se lo dijo así mismo—Ahí viene el Sr. Bam. 

En ese momento, el Sr. Bam acompañado de la figura pequeña de Park Minhyuk, apareció frente a él. Todos en la sala se pararon e hicieron una reverencia hacia el CEO, quien presentó al acompañante como colaborador para el proyecto artístico. Ese es el momento en el que sus ojos se encontraron, la mirada brillante con un rastro de sorpresa de Hyuk exalto al rubio quien solo pudo desviar la mirada hacia su jefe.  

—Sr. Moon Bin, por favor cuide de Minhyuk—el presidente posó una mano sobre el pelinegro quien sonreía ocultando la decepción por la reacción de Bin—que su popularidad no lo engañe, es de los mejores artistas que he visto. 

—No lo dudo—no lo pensó, las palabras se le escaparon y se arrepintió, el tono con el que lo dijo se sintió tan personal que una punzada de dolor lo atravesó. El Señor Bam se fue más rápido de lo que Bin deseo, y pronto Minhyuk, MoonBin y los subordinados se encontraban solos. 

—Sigan trabajando en el proyecto, organizaré unos temas con el Sr. Park—ordenó Bin llevando a Hyuk fuera de la sala de reuniones—No holgazaneen. 

El trayecto hacia la oficina de MoonBin fue silencioso, en realidad el rubio temía que si empezaba una conversación que está tornara una dirección que no podría soportar. Sabía que era el culpable de esta incomodidad, culpable de su propio sufrimiento. 

Park Minhyuk quien era el único hijo de su padrastro, pelo y ojos negros, estatura mediana y hombros pequeños. Crecieron juntos, fueron a la escuela juntos, compartieron habitación por años y hasta que se fue de la casa, fueron mejores amigos. Minhyuk lo contacto cientos de veces; navidad, su cumpleaños, año nuevo o simplemente porque quería verlo, siempre dijo estar ocupado. 

Moon Bin se refugió en el estudio, y ahora en el trabajo. Sin embargo, no importaba cuantos kilómetros hubiera de distancia, en el fondo, su cabeza rondaba sobre preguntas de Minhyuk. Y ahora muchas de ellas, estaban siendo respondidas. El cabello pelinegro estaba por los hombros totalmente alisado, sus expresiones eran más maduras, su figura se notaba tonificada y los jeans rotos con la remera negra le quedaban tan bien que lloraría. 

—Lo siento, no sabia que estaba trabajando aquí—y como si lo hubieran golpeado con agua, la voz de Minhyuk lo saca de su trance. Minhyuk lo mira, no fijamente—Bin, ¿quieres que renuncie al proyecto? Estoy seguro…

—No tienes que disculparte, hyung—interrumpe rápidamente Bin y mueve sus brazos nerviosamente, se siente extraño—No hay razón para renunciar. 

Es un segundo de silencio. 

—¿No estás molesto?—cuestionó el pelinegro. 

—¿Eh? ¿Por qué lo estaría?—Bin abre la puerta de su oficina manteniéndola para que entre su hyung quien agradeció con la cabeza. Cuando la puerta se cierra, repentinamente se sienten demasiado cerca. 

—Bueno…—Minhyuk se rasca la nuca—no debe ser agradable tener que trabajar con alguien que odias. 

Antes de que siquiera pudiera procesarlo.

—Es decir, no dudo que tú puedas soportar a cualquier persona sin importar que tanto lo odies, ya que eres un gran trabajador. 

—Hyung, yo no te odio—Bin se acercó con el ceño fruncido—¿Quién te dijo algo así, hyung?

Minhyuk pestañeó un par de veces y respondió. 

—Bin, tu me lo dijiste—el pelinegro retrocedió un paso ante el cuerpo enorme del menor ¿en qué momento creció tanto? sus hombros eran mucho más anchos y sin duda que aumento unos centímetros de altura—El día que me llamaste, en la madrugada, ¿lo recuerdas?

No, no lo recordaba, en absoluto. Estaba tan confundido que su cabeza empezaba a doler. 

No importaba cuanto forzara su memoria, ningun recuerdo venía a su cabeza, incluso le costaba imaginarse a sí mismo diciéndole esas palabras a su hyung. 

—Hyung, en serio, no te odio—a Bin le tembló la voz por el desespero. 

—¿Es así? Es un alivio entonces—contestó el mayor sonriendo—, Ya que nunca quieres reunirte conmigo, tus palabras ya eran una explicación a tus acciones. 

Moon Bin trago el nudo que se formaba en su garganta. 

—Mis acciones no tienen nada que ver con esas palabras—Bin se alejó del mayor fingiendo que buscaba algo en su escritorio—Hyung es una persona que aprecio mucho. 

Parecía que Minhyuk no escuchó la última frase ya que no hubo respuesta alguna. Luego de eso le dijo que se pusiera cómodo, y en sus carpetas Minhyuk fue sacando las propuestas que tenía para el proyecto; como era esperarse de su hyung, todo era maravilloso, desde pequeño que el pelinegro desarrolló sus habilidades con el dibujo y con un poco de recelo recuerda al Bin pequeño que constantemente le pedía que le regalara dibujos. El Moon Bin que acostumbraba apoyarse en su hyung, su diferencia era solo de un año, pero Minhyuk actuó como un hermano mayor a pesar de no tener una relación sanguínea. Quizás fue por eso que cuando descubrió sus sentimientos se aterró tanto, Park Minhyuk lo veía como un hermano. 

Luego de terminar su jornada laboral, en la que no pudo concentrarse, Minhyuk lo invitó a comer pero dijo que ya tenía planes con Dongmin. Lo cual no era del todo mentira porque por más que ya no vivieran juntos, eran vecinos y Sanha, como dijo antes, era una pulga de la cual no podía deshacerse. 

—¿Por qué estás tan deprimido, Hyung?

—No quiero hablar de eso—murmuró Bin contra la almohada del sofá. 

Sanha suspiro malhumorado. 

—Si vas a estar de malas repartiendo esas malas energías, vete a tu habitación a hundirte en tu propia miseria—Sanha lo estaba echando, de su propia casa. 

—Y-a en serio, Bin—Dongmin vino dándole una palmadita en la cabeza—¿Qué pasa? 

Moon Bin se incorporó con agotamiento en su cuerpo. 

—Park Minhyuk, ese es mi problema.  

Oh. 

—Minhyuk hyung no es tu problema—contestó con los brazos cruzados Sanha, el defensor número uno del pelinegro—Tu problema es que te guste tu hermanastro.

—¡Ex-hermanastro!—exclamó Moon Bin. Porque sí, hace ya cuatro años que la madre de Bin y el Sr. Park se habían separado, aunque según había visto la última vez que fue a visitar a su madre estos seguían siendo igual de pegados. No cabía duda que fueron mejores amigos toda la vida y que incluso su separación romántica no podía romper su amistad, los envidiaba. 

Dongmin y Sanha se quedaron toda la noche viendo películas mientras que Bin ni siquiera podía fingir que la estaba pasando mal, eventualmente se quedó dormido y cuando despertó la pareja ya no estaba ahí. Era de madrugada, el cielo estaba tapado de niebla y una leve llovizna golpeaba contra el ventanal del departamento, sentado en la silla de su cocina hundió su cabeza en sus manos. Se le salía el corazón, todos los años que aguanto se le venían abajo, tanto esfuerzo por mantener su vida en equilibrio, un ser con tanto poder en su vida lo derrumbaba todo. Se sentía mal, como si su cuerpo estuviera sosteniendo rocas, rocas pesadas que le quemaban. 

Un ataque de tos lo golpeó con fuerza, puso su mano en su boca y con la otra agarró su garganta, ardía. Sus ojos fruncidos se abrieron enfocando la vista, la mesada cubierta de pétalos pequeños y lilas. Pensó que estaba alucinando sin embargo el tacto contra ellas era suave, eran reales. Pronto la tos volvió y con ellos mantuvo la mirada abierta, y si, lo que sospechaba. Los pétalos salían de su garganta. 

✦

Moon Bin no fue a trabajar, los días estaban lluviosos, y cada día la tos estaba peor. Su cama era cómoda, sin embargo no llegaba a tapar el frío que sentía. Intentaba levantarse para mantener su cuerpo activo, era más difícil de lo que había supuesto, llegar a la cocina ahora era un verdadero triunfo. 

Dongmin y Sanha, se ofrecieron a cuidarlo del resfriado que decía tener, no importaba cuanto lo pidieran, no los iba a dejar. Ya sabía que no era un resfriado común, lo averiguo, no era ni más ni menos que la enfermedad de Hanahaki producida por un amor no correspondido y que, hasta el día, no tenía cura. Estaba agotado, su pecho dolía de lo mucho que tosía y su cabeza no podía alejarse de los mechones negros, ya llevaba varios días ausentado al trabajo se preguntaba si Minhyuk seguía preparando diseños para el proyecto. Suspiro. 

Espero que no se esté sobre exigiendo.  

Minhyuk siempre era maravilloso, en los últimos años evitó analizar las cualidades del pelinegro sin embargo ahora era inevitable. Sus recuerdos más vividos eran de adolescentes; es decir, siempre se llevaron bien, siempre jugaron juntos y siempre fueron una familia, pero a partir de su preadolescencia fue diferente. Ellos no solo eran hermanastros, eran amigos, estudiaban juntos, veían películas juntos, se quejaban de sus padres y se escapaban de casa juntos. Y fue cuando sus sentimientos florecieron. 

La primera vez que tomaron alcohol juntos eran realmente jóvenes, Moon Bin estaba por cumplir los diecisiete años y su hyung estaba a semanas de irse a la Universidad de Arte. Esa noche, con unos pocos tragos de alcohol en sangre, se dio cuenta lo mucho que le gustaba Minhyuk. No amor de familia, no, gustar gustar. Un amor que le cubría el pecho, y le hacía temblar las manos. Se sintió tan culpable, tan enfermo, que ni siquiera volvió a mirar a los ojos a su Hyung temiendo que notara sus sentimientos. 

Fue una sorpresa para su familia la nueva actitud del joven Bin, evitaba a su hermanastro a toda costa, cuando venía de vacaciones de la universidad él se iba a la casa de sus amigos, cuando no podía ir a la casa de sus amigos fingía estar ocupado y se quedaba en su habitación. Todo el grupo familiar pensó que los hermanos inseparables se pelearon, y Minhyuk quien no entendía en absoluto como Bin se volvió tan arisco, tenía ganas de llorar; estaba claro que no era una fase de su adolescencia, Moon Bin lo estaba evitando sino como se explicaría que asistía a todas las reuniones familiares a las que él no iba. 

Cuando comprendió que estaba siendo una molestia para Moon Bin, no dudó en darle su espacio. Intentó evitar ir a las fiestas de Navidad y Año nuevo, sin embargo la Señora Moon siempre insistía en que fuera, le daban ganar de vomitar de los nervios con la cara de disgusto de Bin. Se sentía terrible. 

Y fue peor cuando se enteró de que Moon Bin se había ido de la casa, fue su padre quien llamó pero sabía que la pregunta que le hizo fue por los sollozos de la Señora Moon. 

—Hyuk, ¿realmente te peleaste con Bin? 

Sabía que no, sin embargo las acciones de su hermanastro eran tan extrañas que le hacían doler el corazón. 

Para las siguientes vacaciones, el cuerpo de Hyuk estaba cansado solo de pensar en ir a casa. Sin embargo fue a pedido de su padre. En esas vacaciones fue que se enteró que se separaron, y Hyuk realmente se sintió como un hijo de padres divorciados, ellos que siempre se habían querido tanto… No podía entenderlo. La respuesta de su padre fue pues eso mismo tendría que decir yo de Bin y tú. La señora Moon y su padre se rieron y trataron como siempre, y eso fue un alivio. 

Cuando pasó por la habitación antigua de Bin sintió el vacío de la casa, era indiscutible que su presencia era añorable. ¿Hace cuanto que el rubio no venía a ver a su madre? Probablemente, meses y… era su culpa. 

Antes de que una gota se derramara, la señora Moon lo encontró parado en el pasillo con una expresión tan deplorable que le dio vergüenza la rapidez con la fue abrazado. 

—Lo siento tanto, en serio—los mocos no le dejaron hablar—no sé, no sé que le hice. 

Con una sonrisa y acariciando su espalda. 

—Bin te quiere tanto que no sabe cómo expresarlo. 

Esas fueron las palabras de la Señora Moon sin embargo parecían tan equivocadas la noche que Minhyuk llegó a su casa luego de una larga exposición en uno de los museos de Seúl. Su casa era pequeña pero suficiente, tenía una buena vista para inspirarse y a diferencia de la mayoría, no tenía ruidos urbanos. Es por eso que el tono del celular lo sorprendió tanto, contestó impactado por el nombre en la pantalla. En los primeros segundos nadie contestó. 

—¿Hola? 

—Hyung, realmente odio que seas mi hermano. 

La voz inconfundible de Moon Bin se escuchó, y Minhyuk sentía que se quedaba sin aire. 

El pelinegro recuerda esa noche muy vivida. Y aunque Moon Bin le negó sus propias palabras hace solo unos días, no era normal que desapareciera en el momento exacto en el que se encuentran, irritado por la situación Minhyuk va a enfrentarlo. Si Moon Bin se niega a volver al trabajo, entonces él tendrá que ir a su casa. 

En cuanto llegó a la puerta del departamento con un poquito de ayuda de Sanha—quien volvió con Dongmin luego de abrirle la puerta del edificio—, tocó la puerta, nadie respondió. Siguió insistiendo, pensó que la puerta se caería de lo fuerte que estaba golpeando sin embargo cuando se le ocurrió la probabilidad de que el menor no estuviera en casa Moon Bin apareció frente a él, pálido, el pelo caído y ojeras negras por debajo de los ojos. Fue tan diferente a la imagen que tuvo de él la última vez que incluso dudo que este fuera el propio Bin. 

—¿Minhyuk?—sintió que le secaba la garganta—¿Qué haces-?

Inmediatamente una contracción en su abdomen se hizo presente y su cuerpo flaqueo haciéndolo terminar en cuclillas mientras tosía fuertemente. El pelinegro se arrodilló junto a Bin apoyando su mano en la espalda y cerrando la puerta en el camino. Pronto los pétalos salieron por su boca y aunque intentó tapar su boca, fue muy tarde. 

—¿Hanahaki?—preguntó el pelinegro, no necesitaba una respuesta, sabía lo que era. La enfermedad del amor no correspondido, no le pareció ver raro a alguien con esta enfermedad, le pareció raro que Moon Bin la tuviera—Llamaré una ambulancia, espera. 

—No, hyung—el menor agarró su muñeca deteniéndolo—en serio, no te preocupes. ¿Viniste por algo del proyecto?

Moon Bin con una fuerza interior que sacó de la vergüenza que le daba mostrarse así frente a su hyung. 

—¿Qué? Vine porque estaba preocupado—explico el pelinegro—faltaste muchos días al trabajo. 

Moon Bin se apoyó en el sofá sabiendo que no podría durar mucho parado. 

—No hay porqué preocuparse, hyung—sonrió. 

—Moon Bin, ¿me estás malditamente jodiendo?—fue la primera vez que escucho a su Hyung maldecir de esa manera—Tienes hanahaki. 

—Lo sé, hyung. 

A pasos duros MInhyuk se acercó al sofá, arrodillándose en el piso y enfocando su mirada en el rubio. 

—Dime quien es—fuerte y claro, y Bin sintio que iba a empezar a paniquear.

—¿Qué? Hyung, no vale la pena, en serio. 

Minhyuk frunció las cejas y agarró la mano del rubio. 

—Sea quien sea, le haré entender lo que se está perdiendo por no salir con alguien como tú. 

La mirada del menor se oscureció. 

—¿Quién sea, hyung? ¿En serio?—la voz se profundizó y Hyuk asintió con seguridad—¿Incluso si eres tú? 

Minhyuk asintió un poco confundido. 

—Claro, lo haré, sea quien sea. 

Moon Bin lo miro como si fuera un tonto, porque realmente lo estaba pesando. Con un suspiro, seguido de una risa amarga se alejó de la mano de su Hyung para agarrar sus pelos entre los dedos de sus manos. 

—Hyung, ¿eres estúpido?

Minhyuk no quiso parecerlo aunque no entendía por qué repentinamente lo estaban insultando, aunque rápidamente tuvo una conclusión. 

—Oh…—el pelinegro bajó la mirada y asintió hacia sí mismo, apretando sus labios abrazo a Bin—Debió ser muy difícil… No sé cómo aguantaste para convivir tanto con la pareja de Dongmin si tanto te gustaba. 

Moon Bin agarró de los hombros a su hyung como si fuera veneno, y se paró de su lugar con una repulsión que Minhyuk no pudo entender hasta que las palabras retumbaron en el departamento. 

—¡No es Dongmin quien, Dios Hyung!—la rabia consumía al menor—¡Eres tú, hyung, tú me gustas! 

Volvió a tirarse en el sofá con tanta vergüenza que ocultó su cara entre sus palmas. 

—oh…—fue lo único que escucho venir del mayor, y sentía que el mundo se le venía abajo, la tos se hizo presente con sus pétalos ya característicos. Unas cuantas lágrimas acompañaron y nuevamente su Hyung estaba tocando su espalda, su toque quemaba pero ya no tenía corazón para alejarse—Bin, hay algo que quiero preguntarte. 

La voz fue suave y golpeó contra su oído como un cariño. 

—Dime Hyung. 

Fueron unos segundos de silencio en los que Minhyuk pensó en cómo decirlo. 

—¿Yo cuando te rechace? 

—Hyung nunca me consideró una opción, no había necesidad de preguntarlo para saber su respuesta—contesto entrecortadamente. 

—No supongas por tu mismo, quiero que me lo preguntes—pidió de manera firme el mayor, lo único que se le ocurrió al rubio fue pensar en cuanto más quería avergonzarlo, no sacó su cabeza de sus manos y se quedó hasta ahí hasta que las manos del mayor agarraron su cabeza levantándola, los dedos de su hyung apretaron en las mejillas mientras que tenían una distancia mínima entre ellos—No vuelvas a suponer. 

Los labios de Minhyuk lo atacaron, eran suaves y los primeros segundos Bin pensó que había muerto, que era solo un sueño luego del fin. No lo era, llevó su agarre a la cintura del pelinegro, el corazón golpeando contra su pecho, la piel entre sus dedos, era demasiado real. 

—Hyung…—separaron sus labios con sus respiraciones agitadas—Yo, me gustas mucho, en serio. 

Minhyuk río. 

—A mí también me gustas mucho—beso la mejilla del otro—Y por si estás suponiendo cosas raras, esto no es un rechazo. 

Moon Bin sintió que el peso en su pecho se aliviaba. 

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.”

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