#I wonder who my favorite drivers might be I really do

[leftneb]

Have you tried filling F1 ship chart? I'm curious about which ship you like and dislike

soz I took a while to answer this I may have overplanned a little (plus been busy)

edit: completely forgot to mark the oscar-mark family thing you're just gonna have to imagine it's there

the casually enjoy section is for pairings I wouldn't neccessarily read about but go "teehee" at when I see them on my dash or in the bg of a fic

"interference" are ships that involve someone from one my main ships (as much as being a multishipper would be way more convenient in this fandom my brain simply cannot bear to see my sillies separated)

which has the consequence that I have a separate line (cyan triangle) for carlandoscar and (purple line) for carlando

also attached like main + side versions for readability below the cut because jesus chrsit this got out of hand

a blank is also under the cut in case anyone wants to use it :3 do tag me if so I'm curious

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

summary: You and Sirius are in dire need of a new coach just weeks before the Olympics. Remus is a former figure skating prodigy forced to retire after a career-ending injury. Though it's not smooth skating right away, those stiff Olympic village beds are dying to be broken in.

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: modern au, chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus still wakes before dark every morning. It’s automatic, an urgency and excitement that thrums through him like an old instinct, born from years of his alarm clock rousing him at this time. The rink is always at its best right now, when they’ve just finished resurfacing the ice and no one else is around. It was Remus’ favorite time to practice. 

Now, he has a new reason to get up. His hip clicks as he does it, so he starts his day with a couple of proactive painkillers. If he really wanted to be proactive he would stretch like he’s supposed to, but there’s no time and Remus doesn’t feel like it. He’ll pay his toll for the negligence later. 

The webpage of his Airbnb boasted a five-minute walk to the rink, but with his hip it takes Remus seven. It’s like an odd sort of muscle memory, an old routine from another life that feels as bitter as it does comfortable. He heads out early to give himself some cushion. The streets are empty but for bakers and baristas, the first hints of dawn tinging the sky a deep blue. When he turns a corner and the rink comes into view, the absence of his bag hanging from his shoulder is a phantom ache. 

The front doors are locked but the side one staff uses isn’t, the Zamboni driver already inside. Remus lets himself in, makes a cup of tea from the hot water dispenser they leave out when concessions are closed, plants himself on a bench, and waits. 

And waits. 

And waits. 

Remus has nearly nodded off when two pairs of shoes come bounding up to him. Well, one pair bounds. The other drags. 

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” You’re breathless and hauling a sullen-looking boy along behind you by the hand, but you manage a smile when Remus looks up at you. “I had to run over and get him out of bed. It’s good to meet you!”

You hold out your untethered hand. Remus might normally stand to take it, but he no longer feels like doing you the courtesy. Your grip is firm and warm. 

“You were supposed to be here at six,” he says. 

You wince. “I know. Sorry, Sirius is really not a morning person.” 

Remus thinks that he might put more stock into your apologies if you looked a tad more contrite. As it is, your countenance is almost cheery, a fizzy eagerness about you as you look between him and the ice like you can’t wait to get out on it. 

In stark contrast, the ill-tempered boy behind you seems not to have a clue where he is. He looks rumpled and disoriented, squinting in the rink’s fluorescent light. 

“Then why didn’t you pick another time?” Remus asks. 

He hadn’t realized he was still looking at Sirius, or that the other boy could talk, so it’s a surprise when he answers. “Wasn’t my bloody idea.” 

By the way you grin, Remus wonders if you’ve even heard the obvious bitterness in your partner’s tone, or whether it’s gone straight over your head. 

“I like the rink better early,” you explain. “No one else ever comes before the hockey practice starts at nine, and they’ll have just finished resurfacing the ice.” 

Begrudgingly, Remus nods. “I always preferred it about now, too.” 

He realizes immediately that his agreement was a mistake, because your smile grows into something far too brilliant for the early hour. Christ, what has he gotten himself into? There’s you, starry-eyed and effervescing all over the place, and your partner, who looks more inclined to fall asleep on your shoulder than put on his skates. 

And this is the pair skating duo Remus is supposed to take to the Olympics. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Watch that back foot!” Remus shouts across the ice.

Sirius doesn’t look happy about it, but he corrects the placement of his skate, transitioning smoothly into the next synced turn. 

“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself. 

Once Sirius got out on the ice and woke up a bit, he was good. He skates with the technical proficiency of someone who’s been in the sport since before they started primary school, and the intuitive artistry of someone who loves it. You’re much the same, though your virtuosity and obvious competence are consistently undercut by hesitation, the grace of your movements interrupted when you second-guess yourself. But these—technical prowess paired with devotion—are the basics of what makes a good figure skater. You’ll have to be flawless if you want to do well at the Olympics. 

And Remus has found many flaws. 

“No, no—shit!” Remus stands as you fall out of your jump again, catching yourself on your forearms. “You’re still under-rotating! Come on!” 

Sirius snarls a quick “Hey!” over his shoulder before turning his back on Remus, going to help you up. He speaks to you quietly, checking you over as you stand. Remus seethes. 

He has no clue why he’s been called out here to coach a pair. Remus doesn’t know pairs, has never been a part of one. He was a solo skater. And frankly, it makes him wary that what’s supposed to be the best skating pair in Britain has asked him, a former solo skater who’s been isolated from the figure skating community in general for the past two years, to coach them. But Remus does know figure skating. And he knows when skaters are making stupid mistakes behind their skill level. 

“What aren’t you understanding?” asks Remus as you skate back to the edge of the rink. He really wants to know. “It’s simple. You can do this.” He knows he could have. As easy as breathing, and he would kill to have the chance again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Sirius’ glare is sharp as knives. He steps off the ice before you can, positioning himself between you and Remus. Your lips purse with a knowing sort of apprehension. 

“Sirius…” 

“No, you don’t talk to her like that,” Sirius spits. “It was a tiny mistake.” 

Remus raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “I’m trying to help her! It was a giant mistake, with a simple fix. You ought to be telling her the same, unless you’re okay with your partner snapping her ankle weeks out from competition.” 

“None of that means you get to fucking yell at her! Who do you think you are?” 

“Okay—” 

“I’m her coach,” says Remus, voice rising, “and—”

“Then coach her! Maybe if you’d give some actual fucking feedback instead of just nitpicking—” 

“Okay!” Your shout cuts through the space, echoing in the empty rink and silencing the other two. “That’s enough.” 

You haul Sirius back by his shoulder. Your grip doesn’t look severe enough to move him, but he goes, stepping back to your side. His eyes never leave Remus’. 

Your own gaze jumps between both boys, that same spark he’d seen in you earlier burning with a different light. 

“Let’s call it for today,” you say firmly. “Okay? We’ll try again tomorrow.” 

Neither boy speaks, though Remus nods. It seems to be taking all of Sirius’ willpower to bite his tongue. He gets the impression it isn’t something he succeeds at often, so Remus isn’t ashamed to say that it brings him a perverse sort of joy to see it now. His tiny bit of smugness fizzles out, though, when your eyes land on him. There’s something desolate in your expression that’s a salient deviation from how you’d looked at him before. Remus has the sinking feeling that he’s disappointed you. It’s more distressing than he can account for. 

“We’ll be here on time tomorrow,” you say in that same steady tone. “And my jump, I’ll work on it.” 

Remus nods again. You return it, and when you turn to leave, you drag Sirius after you by his shirtsleeve, picking up your bags along your way. Remus’ mouth feels dry. His lips are chapped, his fingertips hurt from the cold, and the sight of your skates sinking into the rubbery floor makes his hip ache terribly. 

It’s only once you’re nearly out of earshot that he manages to mumble, “Thank you.”

[23victoria]

motive

pairings: 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

word count: 𝟦𝗄

warnings: 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 (𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗉 𝗂𝗍), 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝗂-𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇, 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖻𝗈𝗒/𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 (𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗇)

authors note: 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾!! 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖽, 𝗂 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇𝗍 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗍,

𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌?! CLICK HERE

1k celebration f1 masterlist

The nightclub in Monaco was buzzing with energy. The pulsing music, vibrant lights, and the aroma of expensive perfumes created an atmosphere of glamour and excitement. It was the perfect setting for a night out with friends.

Lando, Charles, Carlos, Yuki, and Oscar were in high spirits, celebrating a rare weekend off from their hectic racing schedules. The club was packed with people, all eager to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers. Lando, in particular, was drawing a lot of attention. His reputation as a playboy was well-known, and he had just finished making out with a stunning brunette on the dance floor.

As Lando returned to the VIP area, his friends greeted him with knowing smirks. "Playboy Lando strikes again," Charles teased, raising his glass in a mock toast.

"Never change, mate," Carlos added with a laugh. "I think you've made more conquests off the track than on it."

Yuki grinned mischievously. "Maybe they should start giving out trophies for that."

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, come on, guys. I'm just having fun."

Oscar, who had been scrolling through his phone, looked up with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, Playboy Lando, your fun might be interrupted. Lily and her friends are on their way."

Lando's playful demeanor faltered for a moment. "Lily? As in Lily, your girlfriend?"

Oscar nodded. "Yep, and she's bringing her best friend Y/N."

At the mention of Y/N, Lando's curiosity was piqued. He had heard Oscar talk about her before, but he had never met her. As the group settled back into their seats, Lando's mind wandered, wondering what she was like.

It wasn't long before Lily and her friends arrived. As they approached the VIP section, Lando's eyes were immediately drawn to Y/N. She was stunning, with a natural beauty that stood out even in the dimly lit club. Her confidence and grace were evident in the way she carried herself, and Lando felt an unexpected flutter in his chest.

He watched as Oscar greeted Lily with a kiss and then turned to introduce Y/N to the group. "Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are the boys."

Y/N smiled politely and exchanged greetings with everyone. When she finally turned to Lando, he felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He extended his hand, trying to hide his nervousness. "Hi, I'm Lando."

She shook his hand briefly, her expression neutral. "Nice to meet you, Lando."

Lando was taken aback by her lack of enthusiasm. He was used to girls fawning over him, but Y/N seemed completely uninterested. Determined to make a good impression, he flashed his most charming smile. "So, Y/N, what do you do?"

"I'm studying to be a nurse practitioner, and I also have my own makeup brand called Ethereal Beauty," she replied, her tone professional.

Lando raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. "Wow, that's incredible. You must be really busy."

Y/N nodded. "I am. But I love what I do."

Their conversation was cut short as the music picked up, and Y/N excused herself to join Lily on the dance floor. Lando watched her go, feeling a strange sense of longing. He turned to Oscar, who was now by his side. "Hey, Oscar, tell me more about Y/N."

Oscar chuckled. "Y/N, seriously bro, you can’t stick to any of the other girls in the cluIb. 

Lando rolled his eyes, “Just tell me about her.”

“She's been Lily's best friend since college. Shes a sweet and funny girl. She's very smart, driven, and not easily impressed. I also consider her one of my closest friends, so please don’t do anything stupid."

Lando frowned. "Not easily impressed? What do you mean?"

Oscar shrugged. "She's not the type to fall for charm and good looks. She's had guys chase after her before, but she's focused on her career and her goals. You’ll have a tough time getting her attention."

Lando's determination only grew. "We'll see about that."

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Over the next few days, Lando couldn't stop thinking about Y/N. He decided to make his move and invited her to a casual lunch, hoping to get to know her better. To his delight, she agreed, though her demeanor remained cool and composed.

As Lando arrived at the charming café overlooking the harbor, he felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He was determined to make a good impression. But as he walked in, he was taken aback to see not just Y/N, but also Oscar and Lily already seated at the table.

"Hey, Lando," Oscar greeted him with a wide grin, barely containing his amusement. "Surprise!"

Lando forced a smile, trying to hide his disappointment. "Hi, Oscar. Lily. Didn't expect to see you here."

Y/N looked at Lando with a calm expression. "I thought it would be nice to have some company."

Oscar gave Lando a look that clearly said, "I told you so," and couldn't resist chuckling. "Yeah, mate. We thought we'd join in the fun."

Determined not to let this setback ruin his chance, Lando took a seat and focused on Y/N. "So, Y/N, how's Ethereal Beauty going? I heard you launched a new product recently."

Y/N smiled politely. "Yes, we just released a new line of organic skincare products. It's been a lot of work, but the response has been great."

Lando nodded, genuinely interested. "That's amazing. I'd love to hear more about it."

Y/N sipped her coffee before answering. "I've always been passionate about makeup and skincare. I started making my own products in college, and it just grew from there. Now, I have a medium, loyal customer base, that's growing."

Lando listened intently, genuinely interested. "That's amazing. It must be a lot of work balancing that with your studies."

"It is," Y/N admitted. "But I enjoy it."

Throughout the lunch, Lando tried his best to engage Y/N in conversation, asking her about her studies, her business, and her passions. Despite Oscar and Lily's presence, he remained focused, trying to show her that he was serious about getting to know her.

Oscar, meanwhile, enjoyed the spectacle, occasionally nudging Lily and whispering jokes about Lando's persistence. But Lando ignored him, determined to make the most of this opportunity.

As the lunch drew to a close, Lando turned to Y/N with a hopeful smile. "Maybe we could do this again sometime? Just the two of us?"

Y/N smiled politely but shook her head. "I appreciate the invitation, Lando, but I'm not looking for anything right now."

Lando's heart sank. "I understand. Thanks for coming out today."

As they parted ways, Lando couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment. He had never met someone so immune to his charms, and it only made him want to try harder.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

A few weeks later, Lando decided to take a different approach. He invited Y/N to one of his races, hoping to impress her with his skills on the track. To his surprise, she accepted the invitation.

On the day of the race, Lando was nervous but excited. He spotted Y/N in the paddock, looking effortlessly chic in a casual outfit. He approached her with a confident smile. "Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it."

"Thanks for inviting me," she replied, her tone still reserved.

As they walked through the paddock, Lando introduced her to his team and showed her around. He hoped that seeing him in his element would spark some interest. During the race, he drove with extra determination, pushing himself to the limit.

After the race, Lando found Y/N waiting for him. "So, what did you think?" he asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

Y/N gave a small, appreciative smile. "It was really impressive, Lando. Congrats on second place."

Lando’s face lit up with genuine joy. "Thanks! I’m glad you enjoyed it. Maybe we could celebrate with dinner later?"

As they spoke, Lando noticed Lily chatting animatedly with Oscar nearby, their conversation punctuated with laughter. Oscar caught Lando’s eye and gave him a knowing look, clearly amused by the situation and subtly indicating, “Let’s see what she says.”

Y/N hesitated before shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Lando. I'm just not interested in dating right now."

Lando's shoulders slumped. "I understand. Thanks for coming, though."

As he watched her leave, Lando felt a mix of frustration and admiration. Y/N was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he couldn't get her out of his mind.

Determined not to give up, Lando decided to enlist the help of his friends. One evening, he gathered Charles, Carlos, Yuki, and Oscar at his apartment. "I need your help," he confessed. "I can't stop thinking about Y/N, and I don't know what to do."

Charles smirked. "Still hung up on her, huh?"

Carlos shook his head with a laugh. "Bro, she's not interested. Maybe it's time to move on."

Yuki nodded in agreement. "Yeah, there are plenty of other girls out there."

Oscar, however, looked thoughtful. "You know, Lando, Y/N is very independent. She values honesty and sincerity. Maybe you need to show her a different side of yourself."

Lando frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Be genuine," Oscar suggested. "Show her that you're more than just a playboy. Prove to her that you can be serious and committed."

Lando considered his friend's advice. "I'll give it a try."

The next time he saw Y/N, it was at a charity event organized by Lily. Lando took a deep breath and approached her, determined to be sincere. "Hi, Y/N. Can we talk?"

She looked at him curiously. "Sure, what's up?"

"I just wanted to apologize," Lando began. "I know I've been trying too hard, and I probably came off as annoying. But the truth is, I really like you. You're different from anyone I've ever met, and I respect your dedication to your career and goals. I just wanted you to know that."

Y/N seemed taken aback by his honesty. "Thank you, Lando. I appreciate that."

For the first time, Lando saw a hint of warmth in her eyes. "Maybe we can start over as friends?" he suggested.

Y/N smiled softly. "I'd like that."

Despite their new friendship, Lando's feelings for Y/N only grew stronger. He found himself thinking about her constantly, longing to be more than just friends. His friends noticed the change in him and couldn't help but tease him.

"Look at him," Charles said one day as they relaxed in the paddock. "Our playboy is turning into an obsessed puppy."

Carlos laughed. "He's delusional if he thinks she's going to change her mind."

Oscar, however, remained supportive. "Give him a break, guys. He's serious about her."

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

One evening, Lando received a call from Oscar. "Hey, man. I heard something you might want to know."

Lando's heart raced. "What is it?"

Oscar sighed. "Lily told me that Y/N went on a date last night. With some guy she met through mutual friends. Apparently, she had a great time and they're planning to see each other again."

Lando felt a surge of jealousy and frustration. "Who is this guy?"

"I don't know much about him, just that she met him at a coffee shop," Oscar replied. "Listen, it’s now or never. I’ve seen how much you've changed, you care about her. Go tell her."

Before Oscar could say anything else Lando hung up. 

That evening, Lando found himself outside Y/N's apartment building, his mind racing. He knew he was acting impulsively, but he couldn't help it. He needed to see her, to understand what was happening.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Y/n pov

Lando has been pursuing you for what feels like forever. Everyone in your shared social circle knows it, including you. Despite his relentless efforts, you've kept your distance. The undeniable charm and boyish good looks that make Lando irresistible to so many girls are the very reasons you've been wary. His reputation as a playboy precedes him, and you don't want to be another notch on his bedpost. But Lando isn't one to give up easily.

It's a cool Saturday evening, and you're holed up in your cozy apartment, attempting to focus on a book. The soft hum of the city outside your window provides a soothing backdrop, but your mind keeps wandering to Lando and his recent attempts to win your heart. The flowers delivered to your workplace, the spontaneous lunch dates, the lingering looks—each one chips away at your resolve, leaving you more confused than ever.

As you're sitting on the couch you hear a knock at your door. Opening it you see him. "Lando? What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," he said, his voice tense.

You hesitate for a moment, then step aside, allowing him to enter. As he walks past you, the scent of his cologne fills the air, making your heart skip a beat. You close the door and follow him into the living room, where he collapses onto your couch like he owns the place.

"You can't keep doing this, Lando," you say, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive stance.

"Doing what?" he asks, feigning innocence.

"Showing up unannounced, sending me gifts, trying to win me over. It's not going to work."

Lando ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. "I heard you went on a date. With some guy. Is that true?"

Your eyes narrowed. "Yes, it is. But why does that matter to you?"

"Because I care about you," Lando blurted out. "I can't stop thinking about you, and the thought of you with someone else drives me crazy."

Your heart skipped a beat as your expression softened slightly, but you remained guarded. "Lando, I've told you before, I'm not looking for a relationship right now. I have my career to focus on."

"But why can't you give us a chance?" Lando pleaded. "I know I've been a playboy in the past, but that's not who I am with you. I want to be serious, to prove that I can be the man you deserve."

He looks at you, his blue eyes filled with a mix of frustration and determination. "Why not? What's so wrong with wanting to be with you?"

"Because I know your reputation," you snap, your voice rising. "You've been with so many girls, Lando. Why would I believe that I'm any different?"

He stands up, closing the distance between you in a few quick steps. "You are different, Y/N. Can't you see that?"

You shake your head, taking a step back. "I don't believe you. You can have any girl you want. Why me?"

His eyes soften, and he takes another step closer. "Because you're the one I can't stop thinking about. You're the one I want, Y/N."

"Why?" you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. "What's your motive, Lando?"

He stares at you for a long moment, the air between you crackling with tension. "You really want to know?" he finally says, his voice low and intense.

"Yes," you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Without another word, he grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you against him, his lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that's all heat and desperation. You gasp, your hands flying up to grip his shirt, your mind spinning from the intensity of it all.

The kiss deepens, and you find yourself melting into him, your resolve crumbling with each passing second. When he finally pulls back, you're both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

"That's my motive," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I want you, Y/N. Not just for a night, not just as a fling. I want you."

You stare at him, your heart aching with a mixture of longing and fear. "But how do I know this is real?" you ask, your voice trembling.

He cups your face in his hands, his eyes locking onto yours. "Because I've never felt this way about anyone before. I can't imagine my life without you in it."

Tears fill your eyes, and you lean into his touch, your heart breaking and mending all at once. "I'm scared, Lando," you admit, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I know," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "But I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

He kisses you again, softer this time, but no less intense. His hands roam your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You respond in kind, your own hands exploring the contours of his body, memorizing every dip and curve.

Somehow, you make it to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. By the time you reach the bed, you're both naked, your bodies pressed together in a tangle of limbs and desire. Lando lowers you onto the bed, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of you beneath him.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, his voice filled with awe.

You reach up, pulling him down for another kiss. "Show me," you murmur against his lips.

He doesn't need any further encouragement. He kisses his way down your body, taking his time to worship every inch of you. His touch is both gentle and demanding, driving you wild with need. By the time he finally settles between your legs, you're trembling with anticipation.

He teases you with soft, feather-light kisses, his breath hot against your most sensitive flesh. When his tongue finally flicks out to taste you, you cry out, your hips lifting off the bed in a desperate plea for more.

He works you with a skill and precision that leaves you breathless, his tongue and fingers driving you to the brink of ecstasy. You can feel the tension building in your core, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it feels like you're going to explode.

And then you do, the orgasm crashing over you with a force that leaves you gasping for breath. Your body trembles beneath him, and he doesn't stop until you've ridden out every wave of pleasure.

When you finally come back to yourself, he's there, kissing his way back up your body, his lips soft and gentle against your flushed skin. He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of the pleasure he's just given you.

"You're amazing," you whisper, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your orgasm.

He smiles against your lips, his eyes shining with love and desire. "I'm not done with you yet," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel his cock pressing against your thigh, and the need for him flares up again, hot and urgent. You reach down, wrapping your hand around him, and he groans, his hips thrusting into your touch.

"Please, Lando," you beg, your voice raw with need. "I need you inside me."

He doesn't make you wait. With a swift, practiced motion, he positions himself at your entrance and pushes inside you. The sensation is almost overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you completely, and you both moan at the same time.

He moves slowly at first, his thrusts deep and measured, each one sending a wave of pleasure through you. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your nails digging into his back.

"Harder," you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

He complies, his pace quickening, each thrust more forceful than the last. The pleasure builds again, even more intense this time, and you cling to him, lost in the sensation of him moving inside you.

"Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with desire. "You're incredible."

You can feel the tension building again, the pleasure coiling tight in your core. You know you're close, and you can tell he is too. You reach down between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

The added stimulation sends you over the edge, your second orgasm crashing over you with even more force than the first. You cry out his name, your body trembling beneath him as he continues to thrust into you, driving you higher and higher.

With a final, shuddering thrust, he follows you over the edge, his release filling you with a warmth that leaves you breathless. He collapses onto the bed beside you, his arms wrapping around you as you both come down from the high.

For a few moments, you lie there together, your bodies tangled, your breaths slowly returning to normal. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice filled with tenderness and awe.

You smile, your heart swelling with love for him. "I love you too, Lando."

He holds you close, his arms a protective cocoon around you. You feel safe and cherished, the connection between you stronger than ever.

After a few minutes of basking in the afterglow, Lando props himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "How about a bath?" he suggests, his voice still husky.

You nod, feeling both excited and exhausted. "That sounds perfect."

He helps you up and leads you to the bathroom, where he starts running a hot bath. You watch as he adds some bath salts and a few drops of essential oil, the room filling with a soothing lavender scent. Once the tub is ready, he helps you in, then climbs in after you, settling behind you so you can lean back against his chest.

The warm water envelops you both, and you sigh in contentment, feeling the tension melt away. Lando wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you relax together.

"Thank you," you murmur, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

"For what?"

"For being patient with me," you whisper, your voice soft and sincere. "For not giving up."

Lando tightens his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. "You're worth every second," he replies, his voice filled with conviction.

You both fall into a comfortable silence, the sound of the water lapping gently against the tub the only noise. The intimacy of the moment is almost overwhelming, and you feel a swell of emotions rising within you.

"Lando," you begin hesitantly, your heart pounding in your chest. "I need to tell you something."

He tilts his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours. "What is it?"

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "I've been scared," you confess. "Scared of getting hurt, scared of being just another girl to you. But tonight... tonight was different. You were different."

His gaze softens, and he reaches up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "Y/N, you have no idea how much you mean to me. I know I've made mistakes in the past, but you're not just another girl. You're the girl."

Tears well up in your eyes, and you lean into his touch. "I have feelings for you, Lando," you admit, your voice trembling. "Real, deep feelings. But I'm scared. I'm scared of falling too hard, of getting hurt."

Lando's eyes shine with emotion as he listens to your confession. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. "I understand," he whispers. "But I want you to know that I'm all in. I want to be with you, Y/N. Not just for now, but for the long haul. I'll do whatever it takes to prove that to you."

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you. It's everything you've wanted to hear, but the fear still lingers. "What if it doesn't work out?" you ask, your voice small and vulnerable.

Lando tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I'm not going to let fear dictate our future. We have something special, Y/N. Something worth fighting for."

You nod, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. His words give you hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness of your doubts. "Okay," you whisper. "Let's give this a try."

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© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[elmushterri]

I filled an entire page of my sketchbook with Nori!

I love them sm!!! This has to be one of my favorite of your rewrites, I seriously did not think I could actually care abt PJ Masks past the age of 6 but now I'm obsessed 😭

On another note, just a random thing I'm curious about, before breaking off from GunnTech, did the main three basically live at the facility since they were initiated? I guess they do from what I’ve seen, but I was just wondering if they ever had to go to like. School or something, when they're not training. And if they ever got to see their family again (though I doubt both the kids and their family would want to lol)

And one more thing, totally important and necessary to ask, how does Nori acquire the kids? (..that doesnt sound right)

Like does he break in to the facility from time to time or did they just bring them with him when they left GunnTech or does he take them in when he finds them just out and about??

NORI… OUR FAVOURITE PROBLEM! The way you draw eyes scratches my brain /positive.

I think the idea is that everyone does live at GunnTech, they have rooms and go to school. GunnTech also has a prison somewhere (like, sci fi, clean, sterile white prison, a glass front-wall for cells instead of bars, and that’s where everyone gets put in Season 4. But, before that, when the main three villains (or at least, just Luna and Nori) escaped, it wasn’t totally locked down so they had to walk out suspiciously/tell the security guards reasons (you need to give reasons when leaving GunnTech so, “I’m hanging out with a friend” comes with ‘who is the friend + give us contact details’) and then probably remove a tracker (unsure as to whether the wristbands are the trackers or the trackers are put into their chest implants), and try to avoid getting caught for the rest of the time (until season 3-4 ofc). The main story probably begins with the three MCs trying to find them and bring them back. Romeo’s wanted cause he stole tech, though, he’s not a mutant.

Nori risks his life basically (not literally but he risks huge punishment) by constantly breaking into the facility to get out new kids. Kids who haven’t yet been mutated all have one room (several large rooms for many kids’ bunk beds basically, not literally one big room 😭) and he goes in and saves one or two each time. Some kids don’t *want* to come with him, thinking this is a cool superhero opportunity. He has an easier time helping kids who are scared and having second thoughts. He’s very gentle.

Also reminder that Nori had their finger prints burned off yipeeee. He’s not letting that happen to the others. (It doesn’t happen to every kid, but GunnTech probably has categories (like, heroes: animals, space, spies, drivers, healers?) and if you’re in the (name is a work in progress) Spies Category (stealth category?) like Nori, you get your finger prints burned off.

Daisy is canonically one of the only two Ninjalino names we know! I might make her into a small side character so that art isn’t 100% solid but eh!

Also he can’t really just “take them back to their parents”. If you’re a child at GunnTech, your parents either gave you away for money or you’re an orphan.

Nori’s usually a sassy ‘problem’ but they have their really serious and gentle moments.

[unsolvedjarin]

I was going through a Charles video that mentioned him blacking out in the car at some point. Since I’m a sucker for angst, I was wondering what it would be like for mentor!Seb if it were the reader in that situation instead. Perhaps the season before the one he retires? And maybe we could see more of the reader’s friendship with Charles? Only if you feel inspired by it, of course.

Either way, thank you for sharing your fics with us. They are my favorites and I’m really grateful for having found your blog.

gif by luchitohamilton

EVERY UNIVERSE.

pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (charles leclerc x teammate! reader)

summary: qatar is a difficult, hot, and taxing track. that along with you having food poisoning, well…that might not end too well for you. thankfully you can always rely on sebastian and charles to be there for you.

word count: 4k

note: can you guys tell i took inspo from mark webber throwing up in his car and the qatar race this year? it was so sad to watch everyone seem so tired especially lance and logan. anyways, the plot kinda got away from me at the end, i do apologize but the seb feels were too intense 😵‍💫

content warning: car crash, mentions of throwing up, inaccurate depictions of food poisoning

part of this series but can be read without!

“Ready?”

A familiar voice makes you turn around from your pre-race preparations. “Depends on what your definition of ready is.”

Charles smiles, “I know it’s our first race in Qatar but c’mon, it isn’t that bad.”

“Isn’t that bad? I might melt in the car! Doesn’t help that I almost missed this one because of food poisoning.”

“Ah yes, how could I forget that,” he teases. He couldn’t forget it, because you’d been complaining about it endlessly for the past three days. You had food poisoning because Mark Webber invited you to lunch on Thursday, and accidentally gave you something dodgy. You’ve yet to forgive the man. “Well at least you’re starting from P4. Lets you fight for P1, no?”

“Against Lewis and Charles? Please. In my dreams, maybe. Plus, you’re starting P3, asshole.” You retort, turning back around to put your balaclava on. The second it’s on your head, though, it gets pulled off, and you look behind you for the perpetrator. “Charles give it b– SEBASTIAN!”

The Aston Martin driver gives you a grin before hugging you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit. You didn’t expect to see him before the race, but the surprise was definitely welcome.

“Oh but if it was me I would have gotten scolded,” Charles mutters, but his complaints were left unheard.

“Just came to wish you luck before the race starts. P4! You’re going to get a podium, I’m sure of it,” Sebastian beams, letting you go from the hug.

“That’s what Charles said too. He was more delusionally optimistic, though. Said I was gonna win.”

“Because I believe in you! Is that so bad?” Charles complains from the side, his comment ignored once again.

“Well maybe Charles is right— you could win. Meanwhile I’m starting in the midfield, again.” Sebastian complains, groaning a little bit.

“Oh cheer up Seb, you survived Ferrari for 6 years, you’ll live.”

He lights up a bit at your joke, moving to say something before an Aston Martin mechanic shows up outside the Ferrari garage. He wasn’t allowed inside, but it was obvious he was looking for Sebastian– who also wasn’t allowed inside, yet mysteriously got in. Nothing to do with him being friends with your mechanics of course, yeah, totally not.

“Ah shoot, well it looks like they’re looking for me,” Sebastian sighs. He starts to walk away before he pauses and moves back towards you, “Hey, stay safe, okay? New track, it’s dangerous. I know we’ve done practice and quali but you can never be too careful. Plus, it’s sweltering hot. Hydrate.”

You roll your eyes fondly, “Yes, dad.”

His face scrunches up a little, “Don’t ever call me that again, I’m not that old.”

“You could barely work my Instagram the other day! All I asked was for you to open Lewis’ stories!”

“Psh, whatever. I have to go, see you after the race, yeah?” He asks, giving your arm a quick squeeze. You nod, murmuring a goodbye to him. He wishes Charles good luck too, before saving his engineer from the Ferrari mechanics blocking him.

“So he can pull your balaclava off– which you hate, by the way, let me remind you– but if I even try adjusting your helmet straps so it’s safer you slap me off?” Charles speaks up, making you break eye contact from the Ferrari garage doors.

You roll your eyes at him with a smile, “You have got to forget that. It was one time. And it was a soft slap to the shoulder!”

“The point still stands,” he retorts, making you give up on the conversation.

“Whatever, Charlie. Just get ready for the race. Stay safe, okay?” you say, putting your balaclava on again. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving, a sign of good luck between the two of you. It makes you smile a little before you hop into your car.

Okay. Qatar. New track, new conditions, but still the same old you. You could do this.

The lights go off one by one, and you grip the steering wheel with anticipation like you always did. Race starts still made you nervous no matter how long you’d been racing. One light goes off…then the next…then the third…the fourth one follows…and then…

“AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”

The first few laps were a breeze, maintaining your position in fourth despite Fernando being on your tail the whole time. You noticed the car was slightly hotter than usual, but decided to ignore it and chalk it up to new changes in the engine.

Around lap 25 you started to feel a bit dizzy and sick during the sharp corners, cursing yourself internally for having such bad timing with the food poisoning. “Charles is 0.200 seconds ahead, feel free to overtake,” your engineer buzzes through the radio.

“Copy,” you reply, not really paying attention, still feeling sick. You overtake Charles with ease around the outside, him not putting up much of a fight because it would have taken both of you out. Now you just had to maintain this position for…dear god, 32 laps.

“Lewis 5 seconds ahead, focus on tire degradation instead.” Your engineer’s warning goes unheard, though, as you noticed the cockpit was getting way too fucking hot.

“The car’s burning up,” you say into your radio, getting only a simple “Copy, we are checking,” back.

“Okay, Y/N there are no problems with your engines, I repeat; no problem.”

What? That’s impossible. You felt like you were melting in there. “Are you sure? Can you ask Charles if his car feels like the sun too?”

“Negative, focus on the race.”

Oh you were going to kill them one day– if they don’t kill you first. A few more laps passed in those horrible conditions before turn 5 rolled around and as you swerved your car, you started to see black spots around your vision.

That can’t be good, you think, having to close your eyes for a second before shaking your head and snapping yourself back into the race. Thankfully Charles had pitted earlier and had a 3 second gap to you. “I don’t feel too well.”

“Copy. Is it the car?”

“Well it’s definitely part of the problem.”

The next few turns were torture, your head bobbing around as you faded in and out of consciousness through the fast corners. Charles was catching up now, and you knew if you didn’t do something soon, he would pass you.

You wanted this podium. You needed it. If you got P3 you would grab P4 on driver standings.

There was a slow corner coming up that was a good overtaking spot, and so you had to defend.

As the turn came around– faster than you expected– the extreme heat of the car, your headache, sweat, food poisoning, and dizziness came together and you suddenly felt light, as if you were flying, before a jolt knocked you out of your consciousness completely.

You were out for less than a minute, but that minute counted for everything. You completely turned into Charles, him having to swerve onto the gravel just so you wouldn’t crash into each other. Your car, however, still had more speed in it, and you were headed towards the wall on the very far side of the gravel.

Thankfully, the rough rocks had shook you awake enough that you were able to swerve away from the wall extremely last minute and only take the tail and back wheel of your car out.

The next few seconds were a blur.

You still felt faint, but could hear a muffled voice headed towards you. You knew the back of your car was completely ruined and you were out of the race, and you put your helmet in your hands in disappointment. You were having such a good run before this happened. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The muffled voice running towards you was closer now, and you registered it to be Charles. He was saying something but you could barely hear him with how your ears were ringing and how the seat of the car was still hot.

The man quickly realized you weren’t hearing him, and opted to come closer and lift your visor up. “Smoke. Car. Get out!”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You pushed yourself up but barely, Charles having to lift you up by your shoulders. Once out of the car you completely collapsed on the floor, only having your teammate catch you.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you say drowsily, still fighting the urge to pass out.

“Safety car is coming, stay with me now,” he replies, tapping your helmet so you stay awake. You were grateful your friend was there with you.

On track, however, Sebastian had just been informed of what went down. “What the fuck? What happened?”

“L/N completely turned into Leclerc. Driver error, push on for P9.”

Sebastian hated how his engineer sounded like a robot reporting a technical statistic. He saw the aftermath of the accident for a split second, and it didn’t look like your car was in good shape. He worries about what shape you were in. “Are they okay?”

“Safety car is coming out for L/N and to crane the car, but other than that they seem fine.”

“Injuries?”

“Please focus on the race, Sebastian.”

“INJURIES!” he shouts into his radio, annoyed. He wouldn’t be able to focus on the race until he knew you were alright.

“Uh…L/N seems to be out of it and on the floor, but they’re okay. They’ll be fine, Seb.” His engineer adds the last statement to reassure the man. He knew you meant a lot to him. Seb nods to himself in the car, carrying on with the race. The faster this finished the faster he could get to you.

The safety car came out and they all slowed down, Sebastian finally being able to take a second long look at the accident. Your car was still there, the smoke coming out of it being extinguished by a personnel. Sebastian thinks he ought to have a word with the Ferrari mechanics after the race. He then notices you, on your knees in the gravel, only being kept up by a driver he can only assume to be Charles. Sebastian thinks that should be him there supporting you, but at the same time he’s glad he wasn’t the one who you nearly crashed into. He couldn’t have it on his consciousness that he could have hit you.

“‘m sorry for ruining your race,” you mumble, still being held up by Charles. The man shakes his head, “It was ruined before that, don’t worry. My engine was acting up.”

You knew he was lying to make you feel better, his engine was completely fine. He was headed for the podium earlier, his first in a while. And you completely botched his chance to get it. The thought makes you sob a little, along with the fact that you ruined your own race.

Crying wasn’t the greatest thing to do, though, as it only made you more lightheaded. Charles notices this and takes your helmet off for you, despite your protests pre-race. You were grateful that he did, though, as the second he took your helmet and balaclava off you felt like you had a breath of fresh air for the first time.

“Better?”

You nod, unable to speak. You still felt dizzy and sick. Charles felt annoyed that the safety personnel were taking so long to get to you, waving them over to walk quicker. Squinting your eyes a little, you find them with some health personnels, and you sink a little lower into the gravel.

“God not again,” you groan, remembering the events that unfolded back in Spa. You did not need to go to the medical tent. As you attempt to get up, however, you fall back down as your vision blurred. Looks like medical tent it is again.

The rest of the race went particularly well. Lewis won the race and Fernando got his first podium since 2014– which you reminded yourself to congratulate him for once you were out of the medical tent– and Seb ended up P9, a position higher than where he started. That would usually be a mediocre result but with his shitty car, you were pretty impressed.

“Water?” A familiar voice makes you look away from the TV screen in the room. Charles sat beside your bed, holding a plastic bottle of water. You nod and take it from him, chugging the cool liquid down.

“Sorry again for ruining your race,” you say as you finish drinking. Charles shakes his head, “Stop apologizing. You passed out, that was no fault of yours.”

“You passed out!?” A loud concerned voice makes both of you snap your head towards the door of the room. Sebastian stood there, still in his race suit like the both of you, a shocked look on his face.

“Is that what happened? You passed out mid race?” He asks again, but this time softer. He walks towards your medical bed– which you insisted you didn’t need– before putting his hand on your forehead to check if you had a fever. The action makes you giggle, but Sebastian had a serious look that shut you up quickly.

He shakes his head with a sigh, “You have a bit of a fever.”

“Any other fun observations?”

Sebastian didn’t seem to be in the mood for your wit, though. “You could have been injured. Just a few meters and you could have fully hit the wall. If you were just a few seconds late waking up you would have–”

He shuts his eyes and stops himself. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened anymore. His voice got wobbly during the end of his statement, making you realize that he was stopping himself from crying. You absentmindedly sit up and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I’m here, Seb. And I’m fine. Look at me.”

The older driver does, slowly opening his eyes. You squeeze his hand a second time, a soft smile on your lips. “I’m here. And look, I’m completely fine. You’re not getting rid of me that quickly old man.”

Seb lets out a chuckle at that, moving to hug you tightly.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he mumbles into your hair. “Why did you even pass out?”

“I was already a little dizzy before getting in the car because of the heat but I tried ignoring it. The car was overheating too and it made me dehydrated, I think. My drink pouch wasn’t a lot of help either when the water was steaming hot. Plus…” you trail off, not really wanting to talk ill of Webber.

“Mark gave her food poisoning when he took her to lunch,” Charles butted in, making you give him a look. You forgot he was in the room.

“Mark? As in Webber?” Sebastian asks, Charles nodding in response. “The bastard.”

“Oh c’mon Seb, he just wanted to treat me to lunch. It’s not like he poisoned my food on purpose.”

Seb sighs deeply before agreeing, “You’re right. Sorry. I’m just– I don’t know.”

“I get it. I mean, this is my second time at the medical tent in three months. Makes you think how accident prone I am,” you joke. Sebastian laughs, and you’re glad you got the worried look in his face away.

“The one in Spa was completely your fault, but we may have to pin this one on Mark,” Seb teases. You shoot him a grin, “Yeah, we can say that.”

Before you could talk more, though, a PR person from both Ferrari and Aston Martin came in to fetch Charles and Sebastian.

“What about me?” you ask, getting up from your bed. It wasn’t like you were injured or anything, you were just a little sick and had a bit of a stomach ache. You’d already thrown up earlier, so you felt pretty normal now.

“Sorry, we have orders to keep you here.”

You scoff, “Please. What can they do if I walk out?”

Before the Ferrari PR agent could reply, though, you were already out the room. She stands there helpless, making Sebastian and Charles chuckle to each other before following you. You were always stubborn when you wanted to be.

The second you’re out of the medical tent, camera flashes overwhelm your eyes. You walk past them as you always do, but the contrast of the light to the night sky makes you a bit lightheaded again, having to hold Sebastian’s arm for support. He moves your hand from his arm to his own hand, interlocking it with yours and pull you through the crowd. There were no words needed to be said, he always knew what you needed. You’re starting to think he can read minds.

Once past the annoying lot of cameras, you make it to the media pen where at least they pestered you in a more civil way. The interviewers were all over you and Charles, looking for some inside scoop on ‘Ferrari drama.’ Turns out, the media thought you tried to purposely take Charles out a la brocedes style. Because of this you had to clarify to every person you talked to that, “No, I did not try to take Charles out on purpose. I passed out. We’re good. Yes, we’re still friends.”

Once that was all over, you headed over to the Channel 4 area to give a certain someone a piece of your mind. “Mark Webber.”

The man turns around to the mention of his full name, smiling when he notices who it is. “Y/N! Glad you’ve come and joined us! We’re on in about five minutes, we can do a segment about the crash but if you wanna talk about something else on screen that’s fine too, we can–”

“You gave me food poisoning!” you butt in. “I cannot believe you.” His coworkers give him a look, as if they were holding in a laugh at him being scolded.

Mark stands there with his mouth agape, unsure what to say. “Wasn’t that three days ago? Are you sure it’s me?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Yes, I’m sure it’s you. It started three days ago, and guess who I was with when I ate something unusual three days ago? Oh right, it’s you!”

He pauses for a moment before bursting into laughter, trying to cover his mouth to no avail. “Sorry, it’s not funny that you almost crashed, I’m glad you’re safe, but– ha!– I cannot believe it was because of the dodgy Indian food!”

You gave him a shove, trying to act mad, but the smile on your face betrayed you. His laughter was contagious. “You are such an asshole.”

“Awh cheer up,” he gives you a side hug, ruffling your hair a little. “Sorry for giving you food poisoning, mate. I’ll make it up to you, whaddya think about lunch on me tomorrow?”

You escape his side hug when you hear him say that, “Absolutely not! I’m never trusting you again with food recommendations.”

The statement makes him laugh again, and you chuckle along with him. Hard to be mad at someone who didn’t do it on purpose. Sebastian walked over to the two of you, having watched the interaction from afar.

“Look who’s coming over,” Mark mumbled, making you notice Seb trying to pretend to just ‘bump’ into the two of you. “Still competitive ‘till now, eh? Don’t worry, I’m not trying to out-mentor you,” Mark says out loud, grabbing the attention of the German.

Seb tilts his head with a faux oblivious look, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grabs you by the arm and ‘discreetly’ pulls you over to his side. ‘No idea’ my ass.

The Australian scoffs with a grin, “Whatever you say mate. Listen, I gotta get back because our feed is going live in a few minutes, but you two take care, alright? Nice to see you again Seb.”

“You too, Mark.” Sebastian replies, this time genuinely. While the media knew the two drivers were now on good terms, they didn’t know just how close they had gotten. The two went bowling at least once every two months just to catch up with each other, you being there for half their competitions– yes, they still competed. Apparently that sense of wanting to beat your former teammate does not go away. So far this year, Mark’s been winning.

Before Mark completely walked away, he looked back at you for a second, “Oh, and, I am happy you got out injury free from that nasty crash. Genuinely glad you’re okay. Sorry that my dodgy food contributed to your sickness.”

You wave him off, “It’s fine, Mark. It’s not like you could’ve known I would get food poisoning. Although, next time maybe check online reviews.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, waving you a goodbye as he ran to his coworkers who were already getting impatient.

You shake your head with a grin, “Well at least that’s over with.”

Sebastian slings his arm around your shoulder, “True. So want to get dinner?”

“Absolutely not. I think I’m done with food for a good while.”

“Well you have to eat something,” he insists, as you both walk through the paddock. “How about we get room service?”

“Eh, it’s late, I don’t really want a repeat of Monaco 2019.”

Monaco 2019 was when you and Seb got room service at 10pm because you didn’t check the time. Safe to say the staff weren’t very happy with that. You both felt so bad while eating that food.

“We can just get McDonalds then,” you suggest.

“McDonalds?” Charles asks, popping out from god knows where.

“Jesus, where the hell were you hiding? The atoms?” You ask.

“I was here the whole time.”

“You were not,” Sebastian comments. Charles simply shrugs, tagging along with the two of you, not caring that he was obviously third wheeling a moment. “So McDonalds?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, McDonalds. But you’re paying because you’re tagging along.”

“No fair! Sebastian is richer than me!”

You both give Charles a look at the same time. Charles thinks it’s eerie how alike the two of you were.

“Charles,” Sebastian starts, patting the Monegasque’s back with one arm with his other still slung around your shoulders. Your accident made him very clingy, but you weren’t about to tell him that. “Let me phrase this as nicely as I can; you are from Monaco. You are rich.”

Charles lets out a sigh, “Fine. I’ll buy the food.”

You clap, “Fuck yeah! Food on the rich man!”

“We have the same salary in our contracts?”

“Shh, that’s not important,” you say, shushing Charles. “Food on the rich man! Although, we may have to go to the hotel right after and just get take out. I can feel Mark’s Indian food from three days ago still fighting with me.”

Charles is the one to roll his eyes this time, “I’ll get the car so we can get there faster, your highness.”

“Thank you, Lord Perceval.”

“Don’t call me that!” he shouts, already walking away to the parking lot.

That left you and Sebastian alone again, just enjoying the company of one another, walking slowly down the paddocks. There were few people now, most having gone back to their hotels to call it a night.

“You know, I’m glad I found you.”

The words make you look up at the older driver, who you find smiling at you. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean obviously we would find each other, there’s only so many drivers in Formula One. But I mean I’m glad I found you in this life.”

“Do you think we don’t find each other in other lives?”

Sebastian pauses and thinks for a second. He’s thought about the other career paths he could have taken throughout his life– other lives he could have lived. He knows there’s no logical way, but he thinks he still would have found you in those lives. The thought makes him smile to himself.

“No, I think we do.”

“Well then good. Because me too,” you reply, giving him a smile of your own. “Why did you suddenly think about it though?”

Sebastian shrugs, “I don’t know. I just felt suddenly sentimental. Feels like a chapter of my life closed but I’m not sure what or why.”

Little did he know that he would start contemplating retirement a few weeks after that.

“Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Whether we find each other in other lifetimes, I mean.”

Seb raises his eyebrow, him now being the one confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re both here now. Enjoying each other’s company. Why bother thinking about versions of ourselves in other universes when we’ve got each other in this one?”

Sebastian gives you the most genuine, softest smile at that. “I love you, I don’t tell you that enough.”

You scrunch your face, “Ew. Sounds like a love confession. Sorry but you’re too old for me.”

“You know what I mean. I love you but not in that way. That’s just gross,” Sebastian says, hitting your shoulder.

“Relax old man, I’m just teasing,” you giggle, trying to avoid his hit. “Love you too. Ew. Sorry, not great with verbal affection. Pretty sure that just made me throw up a bit, and that’s not even with the help of the food poisoning.”

Sebastian just shakes his head, “Okay c’mon now, Charles will be annoyed with how slow we’re walking.”

Later that night, the three of you watched a cheesy romcom while sharing a shit load of fries and chicken nuggets. As you carried on through the night you thought to yourself that despite the hardships of F1, the crashing, the disappointments, the injuries– it brought you a second family you never thought you’d have. And you wouldn’t trade it for any other universe.

Although, maybe a universe where you didn’t get food poisoning.

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ miss diaz (fa14)

with fernando's new appreciation of tik tok, fans begin to wonder where he's getting the ideas from, until he ends up racing alongside his previously unknown daughter... who is already a driver, and in her twenties.

warnings/notes: fernando my dad fr, this is the silliest little fic i loved making it?? I have never written this man and i regret it hes so silly, quite short and sweet, i might make this a verse? idk. i have too many series' rn, but if people like it ...

faceclaim: none :D!

"Ay, papá, ¡no! [You're gonna get yourself hurt!]"

The Alonso house was never quiet. This was something your mother had come to realize long ago. But now she was concerned. What the hell could you and Fernando be doing that would lead to him getting hurt? Despite your insistence of being well mannered and quiet, your mother knew you could tend to get up to the same level of quirkiness as your father.

It didn't help you were smashing records in Formula 1 Academy, racing alongside women like Lia Block and the Al Qubaisi sisters, all while hiding your identity.

Someone had bashed it into you at twelve you'd only be known as Little Alonso if you continued racing under your fathers name, hence why you had insisted you dropped Alonso and continued with Diaz.

Which you did... after six months of convincing your father.

Who is currently shouting, "I'll be fine, ¡bebita!"

"You have old bones!" Is your remark as your mother gets up from where she's tending to the online store she runs for her business. Sort of like a branch out of her Etsy store. She made really nice custom embroidery on top of her working for a media company that outsourced and trained employees for PR teams.

"I'm not that old!" Fernando's shout makes her laugh into her hand as she steps into the kitchen to see you've got a whole plethora of items out and around you.

"What are you two doing..?" She hums, leaning on the doorframe and watching as both you and Fernando turn to her like deer in headlights.

And then you smile, "Papá wants to make a Tik Tok."

Verónica laughs, watching as her husband attempts to tape his phone to the ceiling fan and she puts her hands up and walks out of the room with a quick sentence over her shoulder, "[I'm not explaining this to Aston Martin!]"

fernandoalonso

liked by missdiaz, astonmartinf1, veronicadiaz, and 683k others...

fernandoalonso: race weekend monaco edition 💚

user1: whos teenage daughter ghost wrote this caption?? how old is ur social media admin nando.

veronicadiaz: mi vida <3

⤷ fernandoalonso: mi corazón <3

⤷ user2: PARENNNTSSS

user3: i love my grid dad fr

missdiaz: youngest rookie on the grid!!

⤷ fernandoalonso: rookie of the year!

⤷ user4: yn and nando interaction. my heart is FULL!!

missdiaz

liked by astonmartinf1, f1academy, fernandoalonso, and 348k others...

missdiaz: monaco pit stop <3

astonmartinf1: thats our favorite academy driver!!

⤷ missdiaz: love u am xx

user1: mother is mothering fr

fernandoalonso: rookie of the year!!

⤷ missdiaz: youngest rookie on the grid!!

⤷ user2: nando become her grid dad pls i beg

user3: shut up shes in monaco.

user4: SO PRETTYYY

You read the headline for a third time, 'F1 Academy driver Y/N Diaz to replace ill Lance Stroll for the Monaco GP.'

There's a happy buzz in the Aston Martin garage, even with Lance being terribly ill this weekend. He'd still shown up in full support of his team, but was too woozy to actually get in the car. Too much of a risk. So, Aston Martin had called on you, and you were genuinely excited to race. So your father escorts you into the garage with a tiny proud smile, and all of Aston Martin knows who you actually are.

But media does not. Neither do some of the other drivers.

Hence how you end up talking with Lando during a press event, and when he gives you a soft smile and edges around asking your age, you have to poke your father's thigh to keep him from commenting on it. Lando has no idea he's blatantly flirting with you in front of your dad, but across from him Lewis is trying not to burst into laughter.

"I feel like I'm missing something." Lando says when the reporter comments on the eyes you, Lewis, and Fernando are giving each other. You look at Fernando and he nods,

"Yeah go for it, hermosa." Fernando taps your knee and you smirk, leaning on your fathers shoulder as you say,

"So my full name is Y/N Diaz Alonso, but I go by Diaz because y'know, my dad's got a pretty good legacy--"

"You're his daughter?!" Lando shouts and the audience starts screaming. Lewis is in practical tears with how hard he's laughing and Fernando's laughing as well. Lando curses, "Shit, man!"

"No hard feelings, man." Fernando reaches over to pats Lando's shoulder, who looks like he'd rather sink into the floor and die than be seen right now. Lewis is literally in tears.

"The fact Nando managed to keep this a secret for so long is unsurprising to me," Lewis says, "I mean, I knew because she was young when I first got to F1 and a lot of the older drivers know--plus Max, I think, because of the Piquets."

"Funnily enough," You giggle into the back of your hand, "Mark Webber's my godfather."

"Really?!" The reporters eyes widen and you nod.

"He's a bad influence, truly. Him and Jenson, oh and Seb, they were teaching me curse words at like four years old." You grin and Fernando laughs, now happily laying his arm across your shoulder to tug you to his side.

"And honestly, she's just like me at her age, so the boys on the track might wanna watch out." Fernando sends a pointed glance to Lando that has you whacking your fathers chest with a giggle.

"I'm more like him in the sense of goofy Renault celebrations Fernando, not like "I knew he'd brake because he has a wife and kids at home" Fernando." You clarify, but a knowing glance from Lewis has you shrugging while your father sits in smug confidence that his daughter will be fine.

And you would be. You were closer to the comments than the celebrations in actuality. Though, you'd never admit that.

[amirasainz]

I admit I read everything with baby Sainz in it.🫢 And as I'm on a Lando bender again. (Loving all things Lando) I was wondering if you could write something with Baby Sainz and Lando about how they got into a fight and the whole grid is there for her and being mean to Lando but like the fight was something really little and silly. (Something like Lando not putting his clothes away)

I hope that makes sense.

Oooppp!!!! That make me so happy to know that people enjoy reading my writing. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as well and let me know if you have any requests. I will do my best to write them ASAP

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

Trouble in paradise

There were two things Lando hated dearly: fish and seeing his girlfriend cry. The first one is pretty self-explanatory. For him, fish tasted horrible and looked disgusting. It had a weird consistency and smelled—oh god, don’t get him started on the smell. The second thing, seeing his girlfriend cry, was because a beautiful girl like her should never have to feel any sadness. Her pretty eyes should never fill with tears, making the window to her soul more obvious than ever. Her perfect lips should never tremble, and her voice should never crack. Amira was made for being happy and carefree.

However, this morning, Lando managed to do the worst thing ever. He made his girl cry. And why? Because he is the biggest idiot on earth. The only thing she asked him yesterday was if he could start doing the laundry. Like the lovesick fool he is, he was more enamored with her presence than actually listening to her words. When she wanted to wear her favorite shirt today, which was in the laundry, Lando had to admit that he didn’t do anything. Maybe it was the current heat, her jet lag, her hunger, or the frustration that he didn’t do the simple task she asked him to do, but all of it was too much. And Amira tried to be brave, she really did. But she couldn’t help but let her frustration and sadness out through her tears. When Lando saw his girlfriend crying in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to cry himself. What kind of monster is he, making his perfect girlfriend cry because he was a lazy idiot?

The others around them immediately realized something was wrong when the couple arrived this morning in the paddock. Usually, Lando would have his arm around her shoulders, their hands intertwined, kissing her shamelessly in front of everyone and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. But today, they arrived with only their pinkies intertwined. Despite having a huge fight about something so silly this morning, the couple couldn’t stand not touching one another. If their unusual entrance wasn’t a huge sign that something was wrong, it was Amira’s behavior. Instead of wearing bright, vibrant colors, the young woman wore a black jacket with sunglasses on. Her blue shirt was the only speck of color in her outfit. If even THAT wasn’t a sign that something was amiss between them, it was on their way to the motorhomes. Instead of leading Amira proudly into his side of the garage, he brought her to the Ferrari garage. There, one could see Lando hugging Amira, whose shoulders shook. Without another word, Amira left a heartbroken Lando inside. One might have thought that something terrible had happened to his family, instead of him forgetting to do the laundry…

The news spread like wildfire that Amira and Lando had a fight because Lando couldn’t be trusted to do a simple task. The drivers and WAGs were furious when they heard about what happened. Carlos even went as far as keeping his sister inside his driver’s room, making her sleep and eat something. While Carlos was busy taking care of his precious sister, Lando had the worst day of his life. EVER.

It all started when he ran into Carmen and George. The couple were busy staring daggers at him while he was on his way to the media pen. Lando was so distracted by their glares that he didn’t see Lewis. He bumped straight into the 8-time world champion, who wasn’t very keen on seeing the young Brit. “Oh, sorry Lewis. I didn’t mean to bump into you,” Lando apologized. Lewis looked him up and down before muttering, “Seems like you never mean to do something.” Before Lando had a chance to ask what he meant, Lewis turned around and walked away.

A confused Lando continued walking to the media pen. During the conference, he was asked about his outfit ( new Quadrant merch) when Max muttered loud enough for the microphones to pick up: “Must be nice to have clothes you can wear because you can rely on your partner.” The atmosphere in the room became strained in a matter of seconds. The reporter awkwardly tried to move on. Lando wasn’t stupid; he knew what this was. This was his punishment for upsetting the paddock princess.

After a 40-minute-long speech from Lily and Kika about how important giving and taking in a healthy relationship was, Fernando calling him “El mayor idiota que ha existido en la tierra,” Charles letting Leo bite him, Lily and Oscar giving him the biggest side-eye ever throughout the day, Yuki “accidentally” pushing him into a wall, and Pierre starting gossip about him, he finally went to Carlos’s driver’s room.

He gently knocked on the door, wishing it would be his girl opening it. Sadly, today was truly not his day, because he was met with the sight of an angry Carlos. Before Lando had the chance to say anything, Carlos brought him closer. He whispered quietly in Lando’s ear: “If Amira wasn’t so damn much in love with you, you would already be under the earth. I know where you live, I know your password, I know your deepest secrets. If you ever, and I mean ever, in your entire life make my sister cry again, it will be the last thing you’ll ever do. ¿He sido claro?” Carlos only let poor Lando go after he swore to never do something stupid like that again. “Good, now you will go inside, apologize to Amira, and buy her a new freaking Birkin bag. Did I make myself clear?” Carlos sternly asked.

Safe to say that Lando did a lot of groveling that day. It took the drivers and WAGs 5 months, 1 week, 28 days, and 17 hours to stop with the “Lando-fuck-up” jokes. And Amira? She never had to wonder about a thing again; they now had a housemaid, Aurelia, who only adored Amira and not Lando.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 8: It’s Still Not A Date

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!) Soldier Boy calls the reader Petals.

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.4K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Super creepy dude (it's not Soldier Boy), sexism (it's Soldier Boy), swearing, Denial of feelings, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

"What?" You ask for the hundredth time as you catch Ben glancing over at you from the driver's seat.

Street lights flicker on the outside of car, rigid lines of the buildings softened by the speed as he maneuvers the vehicle through the crowded Saturday night traffic.

He was driving, obviously, because when you'd tried to take the keys, Ben had snatched them away and stated "women can't drive" to which you'd responded "I’m not going to be told that I can’t drive by someone who was born before the invention of the wheel.”

Ben looks back out the windshield that’s bathed in a red glow from the stop light above. “Nothing.”

The color of the light cuts through the shadows in the car,  dramatizing Ben's proud nose and sharp jaw, catching on the lapels of his coat and making him look like a creature that rose from the sea when a god fell into the depths.

Again it reminded you of all the classical literature you'd read in high school and your first year of college, finally understanding what poets wrote about when they described true beauty, and thinking that the fall of man might not have been from pride but rather man fell for beauty such as this, the beauty that Ben possessed.

When you'd first met him, you'd thought that it was a proud beauty, a haughtiness that Ben had because he knew exactly how good he looked and he expected people to worship that, to bend over backwards for him, but now you weren't sure. Yes, Ben knew how attractive he was. And yes, Ben was Ben, but with you sometimes you weren't sure. The moments you spent on your couch when he asked you about your father or when he asked you how your day was or when he indulged your ridiculous request to try out couches at IKEA or when he thought to buy you coffee or when he sat outside your bathroom just to hear you sing you didn't see the haughtiness, didn't see the pride, didn't the anger, and you didn't see the version of Soldier Boy that you'd seen in clips and photos from the past, you saw someone different, someone real.

“You’ve said 'nothing' seventeen times.”

“I have not.” His eyes flick to yours once more, annoyance pulling his mouth down into an attractive frown.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face? Did Annie draw a mustache on it?” You reach for the visor to look at yourself in the mirror again. "Because she did that one time when we had a sleepover in middle school and she didn't tell me until we got through second period."

"She drew a mustache on you?"

"Yes. To be fair I had drawn a mustache on her the week before, but I didn't use a permanent marker."

"How long have the two of you been friends?" Ben asks slowly.

"Since elementary school." You examine your face in the mirror. You always had a habit of smudging your mascara or your lipstick whenever you wore it. It wasn’t that you meant to, it was that each time you legitimately forgot you were wearing it. But your face is devoid of anything abnormal. You still looked the same as you did when you left the apartment, dark lipstick, smoky eyeshadow, contoured cheeks, and you didn’t see why he kept looking at you. "We grew up in a small town and we were the only two supes in our class. The other kids thought we were freaks, used to make up jeers, there was also something about cooties, but I think I've repressed it."

"Fucking dicks." Ben mutters.

"It's okay. I didn't really care and I had Annie. Would have been worse if it was just me." You shake your head to focus back on what you'd asked Ben before. "But what is it?"

“Nothing. It’s just-“ Ben clears his throat turning again to look out the front windshield as the light turns green. “I’ve never seen you wear anything like that before.”

“Well it’s not exactly my style. Could you see me sitting in the dirt messing with plants and potting soil in something like this?” You snort at the image. "Overalls and jeans seem to be more durable and sustainable for my lifestyle. Not to mention cheaper." You'd seen the price tag on the dress that you were wearing, something that Frenchie said "fell off a truck."

“It should be.”

“What?”

“I mean-“ He shrugs looking away from you. “As much as I’d like you to walk around wearing nothing at all sweetheart, I think you should wear things like that more often.”

"And why is that?"

"You look nice."

"Are you saying that I don't look nice all the time?" You tease him, forcing yourself to frown. It was difficult when you could  feel your body warming from the inside out with his compliment. "That I'm some terrible slumpy mess-"

"No I- I just meant that you-" Ben clears his throat again, his hands tightening on the wheel as he searches for the right thing to say. “Why can't you just take the fucking compliment I-" Ben says, almost sounding a little angry.

"I'm just messing with you Ben."

“Oh.” He lets out an awkward chuckle.

Sometimes you thought that it was cute and almost a little endearing that Ben didn't understand sarcasm or social cues from the new century, it made you feel like it was up to you to educate him on things like that.  Not that it was a burden, it never felt like a burden to show Ben how to use things or introduce him to the wonders of 2024.

Not to mention you liked how Ben was a little bit old-fashioned about some things, like how he actually got a physical copy of the newspaper every morning and took the time to read it, or how he wasn't on his phone as often as everyone else was or how Ben actually seemed to pay attention when you talked to him. That last one was always surprising, you'd thought that given how eager Ben was to get into your pants he'd only be focused on that. But when you spoke, Ben's eyes never glazed over or darted to his phone as if he secretly wished for you to stop, Ben genuinely listened to you when you spoke to him. Not to mention he gave you an incredible amount of eye contact that you weren't used to receiving from other people living in this century.

"Thank you." You fold your hands in your lap, thinking about the compliment Ben just gave you. "You know, I-" You hesitate.

I can't believe I'm about to admit this out loud to him.

"I don’t think you look too bad yourself." You finish.

Deep down you really hoped that the music earlier had been enough to cover the conversation you had with Annie back at the apartment. In that conversation you'd admitted that you found him attractive, and you didn't want him to know that. Well, know that you actually admitted it aloud. He already had fun making you squirm whenever he brought up the subject of sex.

"Thanks Petals. Keep buttering me up like that and I'll give you a preview of what I've got under this." Ben winks at you.

"I don't think I need to see your unicorn underwear, thank you." You roll your eyes and stare out the window watching the buildings fade into a dark blur in shades of gray and black. "Or your Strawberry Shortcake Tattoo."

"My what?"

"Nothing."

"I don't have any tattoos sweetheart." Ben pauses as if considering. "If you want I'll let you strip search me when we get back home. I think that would be quite educational for you. You know? Seeing exactly what a real man should look like."

"Can we focus on the mission?" Your cheeks heat, but for some reason you couldn't stop thinking about the word 'home.' Ben had never called your apartment that before, he'd called it "our apartment" but never home. It was weird to hear him say it and weirder still was how it made something in your chest tighten.

But you ascribed that to the dress. The ridiculous dress that you weren't sure how on earth you were going to chase down another supe in and the same dress that was only held on to your body by a small sliver of fabric at the back of your neck and seemed so fragile that you feared it would rip when you breathed.

"I'd rather focus on exactly what you've got on under that dress baby."

"Use your imagination." You roll your eyes at him.

"Oh I am. Trust me. But I think that the real thing would be much more satisfying Petals."

Ben eases the car into a space down the street from the party, but close enough that you could hear the classical music, the chatter of the crowd, and see the bright lights. As you get out of the car, Ben flashes around the front to open the door for you.

You blink up at him in surprise as he takes your hand to help you out, and you let him without a second thought. No one had ever done that for you before, even your high school boyfriend who never made the effort to get out of the car, let alone walk you to the door after a date. You weren't expecting him to do that for you.

"Oh. Thank you." But when you join him on the sidewalk, Ben doesn't let go of your hand. You're dangerously close to him, closer to him than you were in the car. The wind picks up behind him rustling through his hair and sends the smell of his shampoo and cologne washing over you in a wave that makes you feel like your chest is unraveling.

Ben's gaze darkens as he stares down at you, and he steps forward, pinning you against the side of Butcher's car.

"Ben what are you doing?" You croak, unable to find your full voice, not when your throat felt like it was closing.

"Come on. You really want to go to that stuffy party Petals?" He purrs, smiling down at you. His hand was toying with the fabric of your dress, at the top of the slit that was just barely above your mid-left thigh

“Ben-“ Your jaw clenches tight, but the feeling of his hand beginning to slide against your skin, pushing the fabric of the dress aside, makes electricity trail with his touch.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No.

The look in his eyes is all consuming, turning his eyes into two liquid pools of a jade colored sea that beckons you forward, highlighting the golden flecks that sparkle and shine in the darkness.

Ben's smirk grows. “Are you really going to keep pretending that you don’t want me to fuck you? Your cheeks are flushed, your heart is beating faster just like it always does whenever I’m around-“ He leans forward and presses a kiss to the side of your neck making an involuntarily shudder roll through you like a clap of thunder. “That’s my girl.”

It would be so easy to give in. To let him take you back to the apartment, to let him have you like he'd wanted from the first moment you met.

As the thought of giving in begins to peel back your inhibitions, a memory floats up from the darkness.

It's your parents, dancing in the kitchen when they thought Darren and you were asleep. Soft light illuminates the kitchen from candles that cover the counter tops and flicker in the air conditioning. The soft tone of "Gonna Sing You My Love Song" is playing, while they sway together and your father looks down at your mother like she's his whole world, singing to her the lyrics with his whole heart. You could still hear his deep voice finding the words and could see your mother smiling radiantly at him.

The memory is gone as soon as it comes, but it reminds you of what you want, that you want love and you didn't want to waste your time with someone who would only pretend to care for one night.

I have a job to do. And I don’t want this- well… I don’t want it all that much.

You think about what Annie and Hughie have, how they tell each other everything, how Hughie listens to what she wants and brings her flowers just because he was thinking of her. It made your heart ache to think about their relationship and to think of your parents again, but you knew that it was what you wanted more than anything in the world. You wanted someone who understood, who wished to be with you not because he wanted to possess you, but because he loved you and wanted to share his love with you and wanted to be loved by you.

"No." You say, pushing back on Ben's chest. He doesn't move much, but he does drop his hand from dress.

“Why not?” He snaps eyes no longer jade pools, but now a blazing emerald "I don't understand you Petals-"

"That's not special Ben, loads of people don't understand me."

"Do you have any idea how many women would love to be where you are? How many women have begged me to-"

"To fuck them?" You tap your lip thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, I realized that you haven't said that to me today so naturally I forgot. And I really don't want to rehash this now!"

“I want to.” His eyes blaze with anger. “I don’t understand. You flirt with me, tell me that you find me attractive-"

"I was being nice! You told me I looked nice. That's what you do when someone compliments you. And I do not  flirt with you."

"Yes you do!"

"No I don't." You shout. "I've told you before that I don't want to have sex with you."

He runs his hand through his hair in frustration. “We both know that’s a fucking lie. So why not? Do you think it’s going to be bad? Because I can guarantee that anything we do together will be fucking fantastic. Is it because you hate me? Because hate sex is pretty satisfying. Or do you think that I'm going to lose control or something or not take care of what you need? Because I’m pretty damn attentive!”

"For the last time, I don't fucking hate you Ben I just-" Your teeth clench together in anger.

A couple in nicely dressed clothes walk by, eyeing Ben and you with wide eyes and reminding you exactly why  you're here.

"Beautiful night isn't it?" You nod your head in their direction awkwardly with the words, before you take a deep breath. "Look this is not the time or the place. We are on a mission and if you don’t want to come to the party, that's fine, I can handle the supe on my own.”

You push past him and begin to walk down the sidewalk a brisk pace, hoping that he will just leave. Because now you were getting pissed off and frustrated. You didn't understand why you had to keep having this conversation with him.

I have told him several times that I don't want to sleep with him. I haven't flirted with him. I don't think I've led him on in any way.

A part of you wasn't annoyed because of the many times that he had come on to you, it was annoyed because of the moments that Ben would act differently, when he acted like a man you could see yourself falling in love with. It made you feel like he was just jerking you around and trying to pretend so you would  give in, like this whole thing was his big scheme to get into your pants.

“I just don’t understand you Petals.” He grumbles as he catches up.

“You’ve been saying that since we first met Gramps.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you say Macho Macho Man.” You reply, but then the wind picks up again and you can smell his cologne transporting you back to a few moments ago when his hand pushed back your dress and you felt the scratch of his stubble against the skin of your neck and it felt like you had swallowed lightning. It quickly took you back to the moment when he kissed you outside of your apartment the first night he'd stayed with you, how he curved his body around you, and moved his mouth against yours, sliding his tongue past your bottom lip and-

“See you’re doing it again.” Ben is staring at you, noticing the flush that travels from your cheeks and creeps to your ears. “Just admit that you want to have sex with me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

And then you lose it, wheeling on him, poking your finger into his muscular chest.

 “Because then what?" You spit and Ben's eyes widen in surprise. "You fuck me once, leave right after and never talk to me ever again? You fuck women then throw them away. You don’t see sex as something special, you see it as a way to let off steam,  to justify your existence, and to make yourself feel good about you.” Every syllable is coupled with a finger poking into his chest.  "You only want me because you can't have me. I understand that you have this fascination with me now, but as soon as I give in, you won't care." You say it to enforce the idea in my own mind, to gain control of your hormones and push away the memories of Ben and you together.

"You don't know that." There's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place.

"Yes. I do."

"How?"

"Because I've seen the evidence!"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Let's brainstorm for a minute." You hold up a hand to stop him. "Who was it that founded Herogasm?"

"Me?"

"Who was it that got Tinder as soon as he got back to America?"

"It wasn't as soon as I got back it was at least a week later-"

"Ben, I want to have sex with someone I love. Not just a quick fuck for five minutes in Butcher's car, or a romp in the shower, or just to 'loosen up'. Okay?" You swallow the lump in your throat. "And I won't do that to myself, have feelings for you, and sleep with you, only to have you throw me away."

Ben blinks and you watch something cross through his gaze that you'd never seen before. "I'd never throw you away Y/n." He says it softly, just barely audible over the sounds of the city.

"You say that now, but as soon as I give in, it won't matter." You clear your throat. "Now I'm going to go to this party, you can do whatever you want, but please just let me do my job."

And then you walk away from him and into the flashing lights and soft classical music that does little to stop the pounding of your heart and the lump of emotion stuck in the back of your throat.

You haven't seen Ben in exactly twenty seven minutes.

In the first seven minutes of your dramatic exit and entrance into the party you had slipped into the bathroom and cried. Why you were crying you weren't exactly sure. Maybe it was the tidal wave of emotion or just the way that your blood was pumping and your heart felt like it would break free and take flight, but you did. And when you emerged from the stall with blood shot eyes and smeared makeup you redid it all the best you could in the bathroom mirror, using the emergency kit that Annie had given you.

Of course you couldn't take all the credit, there was an elderly woman in a navy blue dress in the bathroom who practically witnessed your mental break down and when she saw you struggling to do your make up she helped and more importantly did not ask any questions.  She did however say that if you pointed out exactly who it was who did this to you that she would go "make them wish that they were never born." You were tempted to watch this woman kick Ben's ass, but you'd only thanked her and went out to join the party.

The people were dressed elegantly, sipping champagne from crystal glasses and munching spinach puffs so good you were sure that Kronk was in the back making them and apple tarts that were so mind blowing you were sure that Lorelei Gilmore was somewhere stealing a tray. You were disappointed that you hadn't brought a bigger purse, because the spinach puffs were practically orgasmic and you'd only been able to shove three in alongside four apple tarts. Not to mention that there was so much free merchandise and party favors it meant that you now had a new iPad, a tennis bracelet, a watch with a crystal face, an expensive bottle of champagne and several bottles of perfume that smelled so rich it made your head spin. You were contemplating somehow smuggling out another gift bag so you could sell the iPad on eBay when you feel your phone vibrate in your clutch.

You were expecting it to be Butcher. He had been more about low tech tonight, not relying on radio contact too much, just texting and phone calls for emergencies. Not to mention Butcher had as much patience as a child who was told to wait until after dinner to have a fresh baked chocolate chip cookie.

But it's not Butcher's name that lights up on the screen, it's Annie.

Annie : So how’s the date going?

You pause for a moment and you think about telling her everything that happened in the past twenty seven minutes. You had wanted to call her when you were crying in the bathroom, but you didn't know what to say, didn't understand why you were crying.

I'll tell her later, over wine, because I'm going to need a lot of wine after tonight. You sigh again as the memory of what you yelled at Ben rings in your ears. You didn't know why you felt this way, you'd told him the truth  if anything you should feel relieved, but… Maybe I should apologize-

You shake your head. No. I won't apologize, it was him pressing all my buttons and trying to get me to… Right. I gotta answer Annie.

You: It’s not a date!

Her response is immediate.

Annie: Sure… tell Ben to get you home by 10.

You: I’m disowning you as a best friend.

Annie: Well when you reinstate me as a best friend, I want all the dirty details.

You: There aren’t going to be any dirty details!

Because I had a fucking mental breakdown, unloaded all my feelings on a man who keeps telling me that he wants to fuck me, and is probably mentally compartmentalizing all his possessions and is going to be moved out by the time I get back home.

Annie: And when you guys finally have sex, know that I am ready to be an aunty and I am ready to help you raise super-baby. It's going to be so much fun!

"Oh for the love of-" You begin to let out a string of colorful curses just as someone bumps into you. You raise your eyes to stare at the man.

He's taller than you, at least six feet and built like a body builder, with graying black curls swept back over his head, sun kissed golden skin, and wearing a perfectly black tailored suit, a crisp white shirt and a navy blue tie, all of which oozes wealth, . There's a hint of a shadow along his strong jaw that gives him a masculine quality to offset the fancy clothes, but emphasizes a long scar that hooks over the left side of his chin and drags down to his neck. His nose has been broken in the past, but still has a curved hook and his eyes are a deep amber brown almost a maple that hold humor and curiosity.

"I'm sorry." The man's voice is low, almost a little raspy, with a hint of an accent that you can't place. He's attractive, fit, and probably close to mid-forties, early fifties. You recognize him as the man running for City Comp Troller, the person whose party you were crashing.

"It's okay." You force a smile, shoving your phone back into your purse, trying not to smoosh the spinach puffs and apple tarts.

"I'm Elijah Black." He holds out his hand to shake yours, his brown eyes lazily tracing up and down your figure as he does.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, alarm bells go off. Something about this man seems wrong, sinister, almost predatory. His hand is soft, surprising giving his imposing figure and stature, and the action of him shaking yours causes his shirt to pull away from his throat revealing just the kiss of black ink that arches over his collar bone, but vanishes in an unknown pattern beneath his white shirt. "And you are?"

"I'm Lisette Worthington." You say the fake name confidently, throwing a shy smile in his direction. "It's alright I was in the way-"

"And very angry at someone." Elijah adds with a smile.

"Yeah,-um- my friend is trying to get back together with her verbally abusive ex. She won't listen to me when I tell her not to." The lie comes easily.

"Pity. I always listen to my friends." He smiles wider, still holding on to your hand, even though you've let go of his. "Especially if they're as pretty as you."

"Oh -um- that's sweet." You answer with an awkward laugh looking for a way out of this. You tug your hand, but he doesn’t release it.

At that exact moment, Ben's arm comes around your waist and he pulls you back into his muscular chest, eyes locking with Elijah.

"Sorry I was gone for so long sweetheart." He says loudly so Elijah can hear him, tightening his grip on your waist. Ben places a kiss just behind your right ear as he does so as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. And you fight the warmth that blooms ebbs beneath the surface of your skin when he does.

Despite everything that happened outside you were relieved that Ben was here with you, because Elijah was creepy and Ben always made you feel safe. And despite his constant attempts to get into your pants a part of you trusted that Ben would have your back.

Elijah's eyes flick down to yours as if waiting for you to confirm the fact.

"It's alright babe." You smile up at Ben, leaning in to him and allow yourself to lay your free arm over where it's resting on your waist. Your thumb strokes back and forth over the back of his hand as you do. And for a moment Ben doesn’t look away from your face, something passing through his eyes that you can’t place.

Ben's gaze flicks back to where Elijah is still grasping your other hand. "You gonna drop my girl's hand or are we going to have a problem?"

You flush when Ben uses the words 'my girl' and are thankful that Ben's back is to the large red, white, and blue display of flowers on the table behind him that begins to shed it's flowers and come back ten-fold in even brighter shades of color. Elijah's eyes flick to the display confused momentarily, before sliding back over you.

"Apologies." Elijah lets go of you, but doesn't back away. "I just wanted to get to know her a little better." You don't like the way his eyes trace over your figure as he says it. "You know, it might be considered rude to keep someone like her all to yourself."

"Just like I'd consider it rude for someone to make a move on someone who belongs to someone else." Ben retorts, emphasizing the word "belongs" in a way that makes it suddenly very hard to breathe.

You can hear Ben's jaw clench together, his body tensing behind you slightly, and feel it warm a few degrees as he begins to lose his temper. You can feel the tension traveling through his body and to calm him down you do the one thing that always helps you, you squeeze his hand where it rests on your hip, trying to tell him that it's okay.

Elijah's mouth turns up, eyes glimmering in amusement at Ben.

"But thanks for keeping her company, I can take it from here.” Ben's voice is cold and humorless.

"Of course. I'd hate to leave a beautiful woman like her for even a moment. You’re very lucky.” He smiles at Ben, who doesn't return it. "I'm sure I'll see you around Ms. Worthington. Don’t forget to vote.”  He emphasizes the name as if he knows it's not real, and has the audacity to wink before he vanishes into the crowd.

Ben holds on to you for another minute, eyes locked on the place where Elijah vanished, but he does not return. Ben’s arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you to him so tight that you can feel each of his muscles beneath his suit and you fight to keep your heart beat under control and to fight the urge to blush all over again. Finally, he lets out a breath and releases you.

"Are you okay?" Ben looks down at you, his eyes filled with something that looks a lot like concern, surprising you.

Why is he worried about me?

"Yeah. Thanks."  You smile as you look at him, but it feels forced.

Ben nods once.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did.” He states.

You blink at him confused.

“I didn’t like the way you looked when he started talking to you. Or when he wouldn’t let go of your hand.” His expression hardens, jaw tightening as if he's relieving the memory. "You looked like a deer in headlights Petals."

"I did?"

"Mhmm. Could hear your heartbeat from over there." Ben nods his head in the direction of the bar, where various couples scramble for liquid courage and waiter weave through the crowds holding fresh trays of spinach puffs and crab claws.

"Oh. Well, thanks again, he was very creepy." You bite the inside of your cheek in quiet contemplation thinking for a moment. "I mean some politicians are supposed to be that way, but he was definitely top ten of the creepiest men I've ever met in my life."

"Just promise me I'm not number one." Ben half-smiles, but there's something in his expression that makes you realize that he might not be joking.

"You're not on the list." You say it to reassure him.

"Really?"

You nod. “I -uh- haven’t seen you all night-“ You begin to say. It was true, you had no idea where Ben had gone when you'd had the "fight." If you were going to call it that.

“I was at the bar, getting a drink.”

“Oh.” You do an awkward shuffle with your feet, trying to think of some way to move the conversation along.

Why does this feel so awkward? Why does it feel like we broke up?

Ben doesn’t speak for a moment, instead he’s looking down at you with an unreadable expression. “Petals?” He says it quietly, the same way he said it the day when he told you he was going to buy the couch and you didn't have to worry about paying for it. He said it almost… reverently… not in a teasing way or in a harsh way, he said it in a way that made you feel your knees buckle a little.

“Yes?”

“I’d never-“ He clears his throat as if it’s difficult for him to say what comes next. He lets out a frustrated breath. “I’d never throw you away. I want you to know that.”

“Oh please Ben you don’t have to say that I-“

“No I'm not just saying that. I- I’m not some fucking monster.”

“I don’t think you are Ben. And you shouldn’t have to explain yourself or apologize.” You hold out your hands waving them in front of you.

“But-“

“No.” You shake your head and place your hand on his arm. “I shouldn’t have unloaded all that on you and I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair. And it's okay."

“What’s okay?”

“It’s okay that it’s not who you are. That you're not really one for relationships. And what I should have said is that, I’m not going to ask you to change or guilt you into doing something that you don’t want. It’s not the type of man you are.”

"What type of man am I?"

"Well you're just not a one woman kind of guy or really into relationships." You say it to clarify, but in your head this conversation is becoming as awkward as the one you had outside.

Ben is oddly quiet.

“But that’s okay.” You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. "I meant to also say that, I really don't want to sleep with you because I don't want to make you change for me. That feels very cruel, to manipulate someone that way. For me to want more, to fall for you and you just change the way you are for me."

"Petals-" He's saying it softly again, the way that tugs at your heart.

"I promise I'm fine and I just want to move on. Pretend we didn't have that conversation, or really this one either," You laugh awkwardly. "Okay?"

Ben stands there in the silence, his mouth pulled down into a frown. "If that's what you really want."

"I do. So things can go back to normal?"

"Sure." He says it slowly.

"Good." You turn your head to look away into the crowd, feeling a little bit better, but at the same time you couldn't fight the wave of disappointment that pricked on the edges of your soul. You didn't know where it came from.

The people around you are still mingling with one another and you're trying not to notice how close Ben is standing to you, so close that you're practically against his chest, but there is a good inch of space between the two of you and you revel in it.

I will handle this because I have to. Ben has made it clear what he wants, and I have made it clear what I want and-

As you have the thought you think you see a flash of white in the crowd, the back of someone's head that you think you should know, but as you try to stand on tip toe to catch a glimpse of their face, they're gone.

That was weird. I mean it kinda looked like-

Ben's phone rings in his pocket and he answers it.

"Shit." Ben mutters. He grabs your wrist and tugs you through the crowd which parts easily out of the way of his broad form.

"What is it?"

"The supe is outside!"

Shit.

Ben and you burst through the front doors of the building, just as a hooded figure drives past going full speed in a fancy bright red convertible.

"Come on!" Ben shouts running towards one of the valet who is about to give the keys to a black sports-car idling by the curb to it's owner. Ben grabs the keys as he speeds by, sliding over the hood in his haste to get to the driver's side before you and you follow.

"Sorry! We'll bring it right back." You shout at the owner as you throw open passenger side and slide into the car, slamming it behind you.

But as you do, you realize that something's wrong… what you thought was the passenger side of the car is actually the driver's side.

Wow I was not expecting that.

You lock eyes with Ben who looks devastated by this turn of events.

You can't help the grin that splits your face as you start the car with a press of a button, remembering exactly what he said about women driving earlier. "European car bitch."

Ben looks murderous. "Hey wait a minute-"

"No time Gramps." You slam your foot down on the gas.

The purring of the engine turns into a roar as the car jolts forward in hot pursuit of the red convertible. You shift to a higher gear as you press down further on the gas.

"Oh for fucks sake."

"Calm down. I'm a great driver-" You look over at him.

"Eyes on the road! Fuck." Ben clutches on to the door handle so tight you think he's going to rip it off.

"Ben it's okay, don't have a cow."

"Truck."

"What?"

"THERE'S A FUCKING TRUCK!" Ben shouts reaching for the steering wheel as if he thinks he can drive over you, as a garbage truck backs out into the street.

"You're gonna get us into an accident!" You snap back swerving around the truck to follow after the supe.

"No I'm not! I'm going to fucking save us."

"Not with that attitude." You shift to another gear as you speed up to push through a red light.

The supe turns right in a wide arch cutting off the traffic coming from the left.

"Take a right!" Ben says.

"I have eyes Gramps! Stop backseat driving."

"I wouldn't have to if you'd let me switch with you!"

"Not a chance. We'd lose the supe." You jerk the wheel, feeling the car curve in a beautiful arch through the light. "Man when I get rich I am gonna get one of these."

You hear your phone buzzing in your purse and you start to pick it up, but Ben snatches it away. "No! Please for the love of God do not take your eyes off the road!"

"Fine. Answer it for me."

Ben reaches into your purse and stops. "Why the fuck do you have spinach puffs in here?"

"Because they were free and they were so good." You sigh, taking another sharp turn.

I have no idea where we are going or what we're going to do when we catch this guy.

The supe obviously knew that you were following after him, which meant that there was no way in hell he was going to go back to his chop shop.

If he was smart, he would lead us as far away from it as possible.

Ben hits the speakerphone button.

"Hello?" You sing-song.

"Where in the bloody hell are you?" Butcher shouts on the other side of the line.

"Well I'm not exactly sure. It’s dark. Ben can you read any of the street signs?" You say as you hit the gas, swerving around another car that enters the roadway in front of you, weaving through the oncoming traffic for a moment to get back behind the supe.

"OH HOLY FUCK!" Ben practically screams, one of his hands pressed against the dashboard, the other holding on to the door panel.

"Guess that's a no." Butcher says.

"Gramps is a little upset that I'm driving."

"How are you going to catch the supe?"

"Haven't gotten that far yet."

You watch the convertible take a sharp left down a small alley. "Hold on Ben."

"No No No No!" Ben rips the door handle off as you turn into oncoming traffic narrowly missing a dumpster to follow the supe.

"Holy shit!" You slam on the breaks as you see the convertible completely stopped and the supe standing there. He's wearing a dark sweatshirt that's pulled low over his head, a scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, and he's glowing. Well, arcs of bright blue and white electricity weave around his body, crackling through the air around him.

Your eyes narrow as you sit there in the car, Ben glancing from the supe to you as if trying to decide whether or not he should throw himself from the vehicle.

You rev the engine and the supe tilts his head to the side as if daring you to come closer. You slam your foot down on the gas and the car jumps forward to ram into the supe, but just before it does, he shoots upward off the ground using his electricity to propel him to the rooftop above.

You slam the breaks, but the car smashes into the back of the convertible, deploying the airbags.

Well, guess I can't return it now.

Ben is already out of the car and you follow.

"Swing me up to the roof." He orders, loosening his tie.

"Who the fuck do I look like? Tarzan?" You respond looking around for a weed or a vine, but you don't see any.

Ben sighs in frustration and jumps as high as he can with his super strength, making it about half-way up the fire escape before he swings himself up all the way to the roof.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. What am I supposed to do?" You shout up at him, but Ben is already racing over the rooftops after the supe.

You grab your purse and your phone from the car, running out to the street and following the pulsing lights of what you assume must be electricity that get further and further away as Ben chases after the supe.

"What in the bloody fuck is going on?" Butcher roars through the phone as you run as fast as you can, stiletos clacking against the pavement, arms pumping. Your dress is whipping back behind you and you're sure that you're flashing pretty much everyone who passes by, but you're too focused on the supe.

"Well-" You gasp for air because the last time you ran this fast was in middle school when your neighbors doberman broke free and chased you around the neighborhood and no matter how many times Annie tried to get you to do cardio with her you'd rather die than run recreationally. "Soldier Boy is pursing the supe but he's -gasp- on the roof and I don't-"

You were going to say that you didn't have a way up there but then you remembered exactly what was in your purse.

Sacrifices must be made.

"Butcher just trace the call, I can't talk now." You don't end the call, instead you stuff your phone into your purse and remove one of the precious apple tarts. "Fuck I really wanted to eat you." You whisper longingly to the pastry in your hand. You take a bite and try not to moan aloud at the taste, before you pull your arm back to throw it, but then you stop and take one more bite.

I mean… this is a HUGE sacrifice and maybe Ben is completely fine and-

Electricity crackles over the top of the building and you see Ben for a split second almost get knocked off the roof, before he runs back out of sight over the lip of the building.

Or not.

You launch the tart onto the side walk ahead of you manipulating the remains of the apple to sprout and grow into a tree that sits at an awkward angle. You reach down and rip away the dress so that it's no longer floor length, but now reaches your knees and won't get caught on the shoes.

"Wow." You hear someone say and turn to your tight to see a little girl sitting on the steps of one of the buildings eating a vanilla ice cream cone.

You clear your throat with an awkard smile. "Stay in school kid." Before you run full speed up the trunk. Your eyes are glowing bright green as you will the apple tree to grow larger and larger, curving it's branches outward until you're able to leap from it's outstretched arms onto the roof.

Ben is using a makeshift piece of wood as a shield to fend off the electrical attacks of the supe that stands on the opposite side of the roof. The man is still glowing, the tendrils of blue and white reaching outward from his body to wrap himself in a cocoon of safety from Ben.

Another blast shakes the roof beneath your feet that Ben catches with the wood, his shoes sliding backwards a foot with the force of the expulsion.

Damn it. He's gonna owe me a whole cartload of spinach puffs and I will collect.

"Eat this you electric bitch!" You shout throwing one of the spinach puffs at the man. It hits him square in the chest, getting through the electricity because it doesn't conduct anything, and falls on the ground at his feet.

The man tilts his head down at it confused as to what it is.

"Did you just throw a fucking Spinach puff at him?" Ben shouts.

"Yes. Don't say I never did anything for you Gramps." You respond, and as the supe looks back up at you from the ground, you will the plant to grow.

The tendrils wrap around his legs, holding him in place. As the man looks down to fight off the plant, Ben advances with the wooden board and swings as hard as he can.

It hits the supe in the left side with an incredible cracking noise, you're not sure if it's the board or if it's the supe's ribs, but there's enough force to propel the supe from your trap halfway across the roof. His body rolls, kicking up dirt, soot, and who knows what else.

When the supe stands he's still wearing his hood and his scarf, but somehow he looks more angry. How he was able to convey that with his face covered, you weren't sure, perhaps it was the way the air around him seemed to glow, or how his eyes had shifted to a bright blue that burned through the shadows on the rooftop.

Ben races forward, but as he does you realize that the supe wasn't just standing there, he was charging up. And as Ben gets almost past you the supe shoots a bolt of pure electrical energy. Everything slows down. There's a high pitched crackle as the bolt jumps and sizzles through the air, separating the water molecules. Every hair on your body stands up as the smell of ozone fills your nose.

And your instincts take over.

Your body leaps forward of it's own accord smashing into Ben and propelling him out of the way of the bolt, your arms wrapping around his muscular chest and side as you do so. The bolt scorches through the air just over your head where Ben had been standing, making the hair on the back of your head stand straight up, but the supe missed.

In your head you were saving Ben like he saved you the first time you met the supe, when Ben yanked you back out of the way and ripped one of your favorite shirts, but something about this feels different, it felt like the protective instincts you felt for Annie when she told you exactly what the Deep had done to her.

Ben rolls the two of you as soon as you land so that his body is curled protectively around yours and if the supe takes another shot the only thing he'll hit is Ben's unprotected back. Your face is buried in his chest, arms cinched tightly under his armpits to entwine at his back, holding him to you as tight as you can.

When you raise your head to look behind Ben preparing to go another round with the supe, he's gone.

"Shit where did he go?" Ben shouts standing from the ground and looking around at the now empty rooftop.

Well that's just great. I wasted my spinach puff and my apple tart. Maybe that party is still going on and I can grab some more. You begin to think to yourself, as you adjust the remants of the dress, but then Ben wheels on you, his face contorted in rage.

"This is all your fault! You and your stupid Spinach puff!"

"Whoa. Don't you dare speak that way about the spinach puffs, buddy. They were amazing and-"

"I don't fucking care! You couldn't have done anything else?" Ben snarls. He's standing so close to you that you can feel his anger heating the air between the two of you. "Or better yet, you couldn't have just stayed out of my way? I had this handled! But NO you just had to get between him and me didn't you?" His eyes are narrowed at you, glinting in the night like emeralds. "I would have had him!"

Why is he so angry about this? All I did was push him out of the way. You suddenly think back to how when you landed Ben immediately rolled so that you were no longer in the line of fire. Did he do that on purpose?

"WHAT? I saved your life! A thank you would be nice-" You snap back.

"No you didn't. All you did was make things even more difficult for me. Just like every other fucking woman."

You narrow your eyes at the sexist comment. "How did I do that? All I did was help you!"

"No you fucking tackled me! And believe it or not Petals, I'm not going to let you get fucking electrocuted because you keep trying to save me!"

"I didn't want you to-"

"What? Die? I hate to break this to you Petals, but I'm not some pussy like that plant fucker. And electricity doesn't kill me."

"How do you know that? It could-"

"It fucking doesn't, because those assholes in Russia already tried all that shit on me!"

His words make your breath catch. You were trying not to think of all the horrors that Ben suffered in his forty year captivity, because each time you did it made your heart break for him. No one deserved that, not even him.

"Oh." You whisper quietly pressing your lips into a tight line.

"So next time you want to risk your fucking life for me, don't. Because anything that asshole can do to me, worse shit has been done, and I'd rather feel a little fucking electricity than watch you get blasted to pieces." He snarls and stalks off, in the direction of the apple tree you used to get on the roof to look for the supe.

The smell of ozone is still in the air, the sounds of the city rising from below, the bright lights of the distant skyscrapers standing like stoic watchmen. You can just catch a glimpse of Vought Tower amongst them.

And as you stand there in the aftermath you wonder if Ben really didn't care about you, then why was saying that he'd rather get electrocuted than watch you die, and why did he turn his back to the supe and shield your body from the coming hit?

A/N: Wow a lot happened in this chapter…. But honestly R.I.P the apple tarts and the spinach puffs. But, yes I know a lot of angst, a lot of the reader and Ben both living in denial. I promise that I do have a plan for this fic and that they WILL end up at the end. Y'all just gotta bear with me. 😂😭

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd liked to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

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@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

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@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

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[yelenasdiary]

Heya! Some fluff for valentines. Yelena and reader go to a department store and fill baskets for each other with the others favorite things and at the bottom of readers basket is a beautiful ring that Yelena proposes with

Macaronly Have Eyes for You

Pairing:  Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Summary:  You were able to get Yelena do to one of your Valentine’s Day activities that came with a surprise of its own.

Fluff, Fluff & FLUFF!!

Translations: Detka (baby), Ты выйдешь за меня? (will you marry me),

Warnings: None | 1.4K

AC: I loved this idea so much and it was perfect for the photo that came up on my twitter feed that made me want to write something Yelena x Reader about!! Thank you for sending this & I hope you enjoy it!! x

Cupid's Dream Masterlist

"So, I'm just filling this up with things I think you'd like?" Yelena asked as you both grabbed a Walmart basket. You smiled softly, "Yeah! We have 30 minutes, and we can't show any of to each other until we get home" you explained with an exciting tone. Yelena nodded while her brain thought of all the things, she could possibly get for you, "I'll meet you back at the car, oh and don't forget to get a gift box to use at the checkout" you added before giving the blonde a soft peck on her lips and walking away. 

Yelena watched as you wondered down an aisle before she turned on her feet and made her way to the confessionary aisle. She started off with the easy items, adding a few of your favorite chocolates and candy to the basket along with a couple of bottles of your favorite drink. She then made her way to the clothing area and grabbed the sweater that you were unsure of buying the last time the two of you were at Walmart. 

The first item you put in your basket was the easiest thing anybody who knew Yelena could think of. A box of Mac & Cheese paired with her favorite bottle of hot sauce. As you were making your way out of the aisle, the cheesiest thing caught your eye. A small plushie in the shape of a macaroni pasta. "Oh, she's going to hate this" you chuckled to yourself as you placed it in your basket. 

You met Yelena back at the car, she was leaning against the driver's door waiting patiently for you. "You're going to love what I got you!" You said excitedly as you placed the gift box of goodies in the back seat. "You have that look" Yelena replied as the two of you got into the car. 

"What look?" You asked, playing off any suspicious look you might have had.

"The look at says you've been up to no good" Yelena replied with a chuckle as she started the car. "I am excited to show you what I got you, you're going to hate it so much you'll love it!" You said, confusing the blonde. 

Yelena pulled out of the parking lot and began the journey back to your shared apartment. Your excitement only grew bigger as your mind kept thinking about Yelena's reaction to the cheesy gifts you got her. This was your third Valentines with Yelena, the first one she was away on a mission so there wasn't anything you could do with her and last year, you were sick with the flu and slept most of the day but you still found the energy to cook dinner for Yelena.

This was the year you were able to really show Yelena how much you loved her, even though you tell her every day just how important she is too you, you never wanted her to miss out on these little holidays. You woke her up with breakfast in bed, rose petals trailing from the bed to the shower where the two of you spent more time making out than helping each other wash. 

Yelena took you out for lunch at your favorite restaurant before the two of you took a walk-through Central Park where you brought her a Valentines themed balloon from a balloon vender that she walked through the park with. She wasn't exactly a fan of the balloon but deep down she loved how cheesy you were. 

"Babe, you missed the turn off" you looked to Yelena with a confused look. 

"I know. We're not going home; I want to take you somewhere else" Yelena replied. 

"Where?" You asked. 

"You'll see" She looked to you and smiled softly, "it's just a 20-minute drive" she added. 

Roughly 25 minutes later and Yelena pulled up at Brooklyn Bridge Park. The city lights reflecting off the water made her green eyes sparkle as she laid out a picnic blanket on the grass. "I was going to cook us a late dinner, but this seems more fun" she spoke as she looked at you. 

"This is very romantic so for the record, I take absolutely full responsibility for the chance you might fall in love with me just a little more once you open your gift box" you replied with a smile. Yelena chuckled as she wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer into her, kissing you lovingly. "Do you want to go first?" She asked, seeing the excitement in your eyes. You nodded with a smile, "you might want to sit down for this" you chuckled.

The two of you sat down on the picnic blanket, you opened the gift box full of things you brought for Yelena and told her to close her eyes. "I'm going to start with this just to give you a little taste of what goodies I got you" you said, trying not to break out into laughter as you placed a mug in Yelena's hands. "Open your eyes" you added. 

Yelena cocked a brow as she read the text on the mug before looking up at you to see you were proudly smiling at her with confidence. "Yoda best girlfriend in the galaxy" she read aloud. "That's just the start of it" you replied. 

"You're not going to believe this" Yelena smiled while shaking her head as she pulled out the exact same mug she got for you, "it literally had you written all over it" she added. You broke into laughter as you placed the mug in front of you, "I love it, thank you!" 

The two of you took in turns giving each other an item from the gift boxes. Yelena wasn't at all surprised that you'd gotten her a bottle of vodka as well as her favorite meal duo. She loved the perfume you got her and said it was the perfect scent, nothing too intense. You instantly put on the sweat that Yelena had gotten you and you couldn't wait to take a bath with one of the giant bath bombs she'd gotten you. 

"Okay, close your eyes again, I saved the best for last" you smiled at your girlfriend.

"Now I am slightly nervous" Yelena chuckled with her eyes closed. You pulled out the last item in the gift box, the plushie of macaroni pasta that said 'Macaronly Have Eyes for You' on the box and gently placed it in her hands. "This is my favourite thing I got you" you said with a chuckle, "you can open your eyes now" you added. 

Yelena couldn't control the laughter she broke into at the sight of the plushie, "I hate it so much I can't help but love it" she said, "thank you detka" she added as she reached over and kissed you lovingly. "I have one more gift for you" she smiled against your lips before leaning back and handing you the gift box. You found a small black box that made your heart skip a beat as you looked up at her.

"Open it" she insisted. 

Carefully you picked up the small box and opened it to see a ring with a green diamond sparking at you from the city lights. "Yelena" you looked up at her. 

"I've been thinking about this since our last Valentines together. You were so sick, and I told you just to stay in bed and rest but you were so persistent on making the day special. Detka, every single day I get with you is special to me and I knew that night that I don't ever want to spend my life with anybody else. I love the way you make me feel and the way you are never afraid to be yourself. I love how cheesy you are and how you always find the fun in anything. I wanted to give you something big and Hollywood style romantic but seeing you walking out of Walmart tonight and how beautiful you look in your sweats and favourite t-shirt, I didn't want to wait any longer" she said with a loving smile. 

"Yelena, you broke the rules" you replied, tears of joy filling your eyes. 

"I would break the rules for you anytime" she replied as she reached for the ring and gently pulled it out of the box. She looked you deeply in your eyes, "Ты выйдешь за меня?" She asked, her Russian accent the thickest you've ever heard it. You nodded repeatedly as the tears calmly ran own your cheeks, "if you're asking me what I think you are asking me, the answer is yes, a thousand times yes!" You replied. 

Yelena slid the ring on your finger before kissing you deeply once more, "I really have to teach you Russian" she smiled against your lips.

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[leclercsainzz]

hello darling,

idk if i asked already but i was listening to “moth to a flame” and i was wondering if you could do a smau with the ferrari boys to this song, please:) maybe she’s dating one of them but sneaking behind his back with the other (i swear i’m not into cheating i just wanted to request something with drama lol)

MOTH TO A FLAME

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader / carlos sainz x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

WARNING: || cheating

part 1 - part 2

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 581,729 others

yourusername: my heart <33 (no, charles didn’t cook)

tagged: @charles_leclerc

view 6,820 comments

charles_leclerc: you underestimate me, mon amour:( i’ll cook you something that’ll have you asking for more

charles_leclerc: i still love you though 😘

user: thanks for the clarification, babe!

↳ user: wait what happened?

↳ user: he uploaded a pic of yn holding the bowl captioning it, “cooked dinner for my love” on his story lmaoo 😂

user: “no, charles didn’t cook” not her exposing his ass

pierregasly: his story scared me a bit, ngl 🤣 i thought the food was gonna go to waste

↳ user: PIERRE 😭😭

user: they’re literally the cutest, i swear

user: my yncharles heart 😩

user: the way he’s looking at her in the last pic

↳ user: he’s soo in love with her, it’s too cute 😩

user: i just know carlos was laughing thinking charles actually attempted to “cook” after seeing his story

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 602,739 others

yourusername: small vacay dump(:

view 7,936 comments

user: my favorites!!!

user: parents frr

user: i love the fact that he’s always smiling whenever he’s around yn 😭 they’re meant to be

charles_leclerc: you take my breath away ❤️ i love you

↳ yourusername: ❤️

↳ user: they are the reason i believe in love

danielricciardo: where was my invite?

user: my parents, eveyone!!! 😩

user: obsessed with you both

pierregasly: cute! (the last slide , that is) 🤪

↳ yourusername: hating ass

user: the cutest 🥺

user: charles, can i please have yn 🙏🏼 @charles_leclerc

user: yn, babe, come home the kids miss you

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 704,728 others

carlossainz55: él sabe donde está realmente tu corazón?

see translation: does he know where your heart truly lies?

view 8,947 comments

user: sir, was the first pic necessary? 😩

user: weird way to propose but YES

user: oou what’s up with the caption? 👀

user: don’t let the thirst trap distract you from the caption

↳ user: I DEMAND TO KNOW WHO HE’S TALKING ABOUT

charles_leclerc: oh wow 😍

maxverstappen1: george russell who?

↳ georgerussell63: he learned from the best (me, obviously)

↳ carlossainz55: nO

user: the caption might not even mean anything but like?? 👀 who could he be referring to??!???

user: ima choose to ignore the caption and focus on YOU because my oh myyy 😮‍💨

user: was he seeing anyone that i didn’t know about??!?

yourusername

liked by kendalljenner, landonorris and 604,017 others

yourusername: race week with MY fav driver AND lover 😌

view 5,957 comments

user: MY FAV WAG!!!

user: mother asf 😍

charles_leclerc: you’re too beautiful, stop distracting me 😩

carlossainz55: of course

↳ user: it’s okay carlos, you’re my favorite driver 😌

user: mother and father looking good as always!!

user: yn, babe, we get it he’s yours 😭 no need to emphasize on the “my” or “and”

↳ user: not me being jealous of him

danielricciardo: i thought i was your favorite driver?

↳ yourusername: 😲

user: yn really knows how to make him smile huh 😒

↳ user: wishing i was her rn

↳ user: nah, i’m wishing i was him

charles_leclerc

like by alex_albon, pierregasly and 705,938 others

charles_leclerc: not the results we wanted today, but hopefully tomorrow will be a better day with no distractions!

view 6,838 comments

user: you got this!!

user: head up, charles! ❤️

user: it’s soo hard being a ferrari fan, i can’t 😭

user: what happened today?!???!? that turned looked like it was done intentional

↳ user: i don’t think charles would do that to carlos or himself

user: nah cause there was a lot of tension between carlos and charles … something happened between the two

↳ user: we need our girl yn to spill the tea cause 👀

user: i’m disappointed 😩 we could’ve had a great quali

user: i’m choosing to blame the cars

user: does anybody know where yn was? i missed seeing my girl on screen even if it’s like a second

↳ user: pretty sure she didn’t go today

[f1povs]

You’re safe with me

Pairing : Sergio Checo Perez x reader

Summary- y/n sister of Carlos Sainz. When he followed his dreams of being a f1 driver she followed hers and became a firefighter. After things went south on a call y/n decided to move in with Carlos.

A/n : so this is an idea I’ve had for ages and thinking of writing a whole story on this idea. This is my first time actually posting something as never had the confidence to post but after seeing so many amazing writers on here and other apps I thought I might as well try so please no hate or negativity. If you have any advice then feel free to share and if you think I should write a whole story then please say and I will do my best 🙏

Y/n watched the world go by as she sat in her favorite park, her gaze distant and unfocused. It was as if she was watching a movie play out before her eyes, with all the characters moving in slow motion. She knew everyone around her, the way they smiled, the way they laughed, the way they lived their lives. But she felt disconnected from it all, as if she were merely an observer in someone else's story. Her mind wandered back to the countless times she had watched her brother, Carlos, race his heart out on the track, cheering him on from the sidelines, her voice echoing above the roar of the engines.

She remembered the day she had decided to become a firefighter. It had been an impulsive decision, born out of a desire to protect those she loved and make a difference in the world. Little did she know that it would lead her down a path filled with heartache and loss, with every victory she achieved coming at the cost of someone else's suffering. But she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her accomplishments, even as she struggled to come to terms with the darkness that lurked beneath the surface.

The wind picked up suddenly, rustling the leaves of the trees and sending a shiver down her spine. Y/n looked up, her eyes meeting those of a stranger who was staring at her intently. For a brief moment, they locked gazes, and she felt a strange sense of familiarity wash over her. It was as if this person knew everything about her, all her secrets and fears, and they were offering her a glimmer of hope in return. But then the moment passed, and the stranger turned away, disappearing into the crowd like a ghost. After sitting in the park for a while y/n decided that she couldn’t be here, in this town anymore. Y/n picked up her phone and rang her brother.

Carlos: hey y/n are you okay?

Y/n: um yeah I’m okay. Um I’m just wondering if… I… um… could come move in with you?”

Y/n held back the tears trying to escape her eyes as she spoke to her brother.

Carlos: yeah of course you can move in when are you coming I’ll get a room ready.

After couple hours flight, Y/n smiled as she spotted her brother, Carlos Sainz, standing outside the airport terminal. He looked as handsome as ever, dressed impeccably in his racing gear. Despite the hectic week of training getting ready for the race on the weekend, he'd managed to take time out of his schedule to pick her up from the airport. She hadn't seen him in months, not since the accident at work.

It wasn’t a long drive but seemed like forever. Carlos tried making small talk but y/n wasn’t really interested. She was in a world of her own as she stared out of her brothers car window. No one knew how bad the accident was. All they knew was that y/n was in an accident at work.

Finally y/n and Carlos arrived. The paddock was abuzz with activity, a whirlwind of color and motion that seemed to swirl around her like a dream. She had been away for months, as y/n stepped out of the car the familiar smell of racing fuel and burning rubber hung thick in the air, mingling with the sounds of engines revving and tires screeching. It was like being in a live-action painting, vibrant and alive with the energy of a thousand hearts beating as one. Y/n thought it was nice to be back with her f1 family. Everyone was excited to greet y/n but there was one particular driver who was more excited to see her.

As Sergio Perez turned the corner, his heart skipped a beat. There she was, standing by the lockers with her brothers and his friends, her back to him. It had been months since they'd last seen each other, and the familiarity of her figure was almost overwhelming. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves as he walked towards her. His gaze drifted over her shoulder-length hair, the way it casually fell across her back, and the way she was hugging herself, as if she were cold. He fought the urge to run up and envelop her in a warm embrace, instead opting for a friendly wave as he neared.

“Hey, y/n!" he called out, his voice sounding a little more nervous than he'd intended. She turned around, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. But the usual sparkle in her eyes had gone. Before her eyes would sparkle in the fluorescent light, and Sergio would find himself blushing, but this time was different.

"Hey, Sergio," she replied, her voice soft. "It's good to see you ." She walked over to him, her steps light. He noticed that she was wearing the same perfume she had been wearing the last time they'd met, and it made his heart race a little faster. But as she got closer Sergio could see something was wrong.

Fast forward to race night

The sun began to dip below the horizon, bathing the grid in a warm, golden light. The race was about to end. Everyone cheered as the drivers rushed past the checkered flag. Max at P1, Sergio at P2, and Carlos at P3.

The three men stood on the podium as they celebrated their wins. The crowd cheered and shouted celebrations. Fireworks exploded overhead, their colorful bursts of light painting the sky with a kaleidoscope of colors. It was a beautiful sight, one that would have filled her heart with joy on any other day. But tonight, the sound of the explosions sent her spiraling back to that fateful night, the night of the explosion that had taken the lives of so many, including those closest to her. the fireworks only served as a painful reminder of the day that had changed her life forever. She couldn't help but shiver as she stood on the edge of the crowd, her heart racing and her palms slick with sweat. The memory of the explosion was as vivid as if it had happened only yesterday: the screams of terror, the heat that seared her skin, the deafening boom that shook the ground beneath her feet.

Sergio Checo Perez stood on his podium and searched the crowd for y/n. As soon as his eyes landed on y/n, He could see the pain in her eyes, the fear that gripped her soul, and in that moment he jumped off the podium and raced to y/n in the crowd. His fellow drivers and his team was shouting for him to come back and celebrate the win but he had to do everything in his power to make her feel safe, to make her feel loved. He knew that the accident was more than a normal accident that can happen on the job like she had said. He knew there was more to the story, he knew that the the memories were painful, he knew what was happening as he has experience people he knew go through the same thing and he could never erase the memories that haunted her, the demons that tormented her every waking moment.

Now, as she sat there, on the floor in the crowd, watching the fireworks light up the sky, she felt him approaching, his presence a warm, comforting blanket wrapping itself around her. He knelt down beside her, his expression a mixture of concern and understanding. "Hey," he whispered, reaching out to take her hand. "You don't have to go through this alone." She didn't know if she could believe him, but for some reason, she found herself leaning into his touch, feeling a small spark of hope ignite within her. "I know it's hard," he continued, his voice gentle and soothing. "But we'll get through this together, okay?"

Her eyes met his, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for her to find peace, to find happiness again. And in that moment, she knew that she wasn't truly alone anymore.

They sat there together, watching the fireworks explode overhead, their fingers intertwined. As the last of the fireworks faded away, leaving the sky empty and black once more, Sergio leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ear. "You're okay. You are safe with me," he whispered.

Y/n closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his breath against her skin. She knew he was right. Slowly, she turned her head, meeting his gaze once more. There was something in his eyes that she had never seen before, something that told her that he was in this for the long haul.

As they sat there, the wind picked up again, sending a shiver down her spine. But this time, it felt different. It felt like a new beginning, like a promise of better things to come. And for the first time in a long time, Y/n allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still goodness left in the world, still a reason to keep fighting, to keep going.

Hand in hand, they rose to their feet, the weight of memories and losses not so heavy now. Together, they began to walk through the paddock , their steps echoing through the darkness. As they walked, they talked, sharing stories and laughter, finding solace in the comfort of each other's company. And with every step they took, Y/n felt a little lighter, a little more at peace.

Eventually, they reached a small, secluded clearing, surrounded by tall, ancient trees just outside the circuit. Sergio turned to face her, his eyes searching hers for an answer. She knew what he was asking, and she knew what she wanted to say. Slowly, she nodded, her heart racing with anticipation and fear. He smiled, a soft, gentle smile that made her heart skip a beat, and then he leaned forward, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate.

As they kissed, the world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them, their love for each other the only thing that mattered. And in that moment, Y/n knew that she had found her home, her place in the world after everything she had been through. She knew that together, they could face anything, overcome any obstacle. Because no matter what happened, they would always have each other.

[skelly-words]

more bf!sukuna hcs, but he’s insufferable and stuck in my head. this is part 4…

warning: some NSFW, slight intox, minors DNI

NEVER lets you drive. he’s so misogynistic. “females are bad drivers” ass bitch. "you're gonna wrap us around a tree."

claims to despise when you baby him e.g. forehead kisses, scratching his back to put him to sleep, even fucking cuddling. don’t believe that shit for a second but pretend to and stop until he starts acting grateful.

way too confrontational to be taken out in public. just pretend you don’t know him when he’s pulling a gun on someone who stepped on his shoes.

you’d be broke if you bailed him out of jail every fucking time. at least let him marinate there all night before folding or call his dad to do it instead.

so messy. it's unintentional, but sukuna just leaves a trail of disorder in his wake. throw pillows on the floor, shoes in the walkway, and always leaving the lights on despite complaining about the utility bill.

throw him outside to do yardwork or something. he loves that shit. putting in a couple fruit trees, maybe stepping stones. by the end of the summer you have a tiered garden with slate retaining walls and an automatic irrigation system.

why does he have a green thumb? he's in a secret competition with the neighbors for prettiest lawn. and yet, you manage to kill the little succulent garden he planted for you.

a minimalist (derogatory). sukuna is always trying to throw your trinkets and knickknacks away when you're not paying attention.

he loves getting a little fashion show after you buy new clothes. it's one of the few cute things he'll admit to enjoying. it doesn't matter if the outfit is skimpy or modest, hearts are popping out of his eyes like in a fucking cartoon.

doesn't apologize under any circumstances. the word 'sorry,' isn't in his lexicon. however, he will leave his card on the counter before heading to work and pick up flowers on the way home and make reservations at your favorite restaurant. don't expect to hear a real apology though.

super duper tender-headed. you can't even detangle it without him whining. might cry if you try to do braids, twists, any kinda style. fucking pussy

irritating asf. actually hate him, idk why i’m writing this. i'd probably poison him and collect the life insurance.

UMM nsfw

calling sukuna something corny and dominant in bed (sir/daddy/king/etc.) out of the blue would make him nut. and he isn’t even embarrassed about it at all.

incapable of pulling off a quickie. i think this is more endearing than aggravating. he can't hit it right in just ten minutes. he'll ask for more time. and a little more. then it's been an hour and you're likely running late for something.

thinks you're hottest bent over (i'm not even projecting rn bc my ass is flat). don't worry, he thinks your face is cute, missionary is great too. but if you wore one of those pillow case ass house dresses with no panties he'd go crazy. i hate to air him out like this, but it's true. i gotta link this shit so you know what i'm talking about. makes him feral. maybe i am projecting bc i luv those dresses.

but anyway, he'd fall for the 'bend and snap' so bad (legally blonde reference). these are basically crack, sorry

occasionally forgets that foreplay is a thing and tries to go straight from light frenching to stickin it.

i feel like sukuna’s sunday nights are spent getting really high and kissing on you for hours. he just gets the munchies dude. leaving dewy spots of saliva on all your exposed skin. once he’s tasted that, your clothes is peeled off so he can drool on the rest of you. he doesn’t even realize how much of a tease he is. his mouth suctioned to your inner thigh… maybe i should just write this as its own thingy

p sure i said this already, but he’s a biter. gnaws on you like a mf chew toy. it’s an oral fixation thing, if you don’t like it buy him lots of lollipops and tic tacs.

ok i have to stop before i gross myself out. tyty for reading <3<3<3 have a wonderful day.

masterlist if you wanna read the rest

[ivysangel]

in an alternate universe partition was written about dick grayson because it's so him i just KNOWWW he'd do that shit!! with his cocky smile and everything 🤭

NONNIE NONNIE NONNIE !!!!!!! saw this ask half asleep while checking my notifs and had to force myself to get some rest instead of answering it bc i got SO excited even in my delirious half asleep state. obviously i'm listening to it rn while writing this, like NONNIE ??? i'm smiling, literally not joking i'm cheesin like a fucking loser. quick ro lore before we get into the GOOD stuff: massive beyoncé stan, MASSIVE partition stan !!!! massive music lover and pop culture fiend too like this might just be my favorite ask ever. anyway.

who said in an alternate universe bc it's definitely this one. i literally ghostwrote the song with dick grayson in mind err? like i do just wanna be the girl he likes (everybody point and laugh). like the song, aside from being about super hot sex, is about being so into your partner that you'll give everything to them, do anything for them, put all this effort into catching their eye as if you don't already have it. 'take all of me i just wanna be the girl you like' (cassie in euphoria s2 is that u?) IS SOOOOOOOOOOO REAL TO ME !!!!! like i would do anything for him. (side note, why am i listening to partition and hearing jay on the bg vocals? like am i going insane orrr)

(everything under the cut is just smut)

'he popped all my buttons and he ripped my blouse/he monica lewinski'd all on my gown' and 'took forty-five minute to get all dressed up and we ain't even gon' make it to this club' ??? oh exactly. you put all this effort into looking good for him, and unlke CASSIE in eufuckingphoria season 2, it works out for you oh my god it does. 'driver roll up the partition please/i don't need you seein' yoncé on her knees' bc...car sex. but you're not going to a club, no it's a wayne enterprises gala and you don't even get there until hours later because you're almost fully naked in the back seat getting dicked down by dick grayson !!

'handprints and footprints on my glass, handprints and good grips all on my ass' ugh real music literally real fucking music. you're straddling him as he manspreads, cock buried in you, and your fingernails are digging into the black leather seats. his ties been loosened, shirt opened, and there's red smudged on top of blooming hickeys. the glass is foggy, the only semi clear parts being your handprints from when the pleasure got overwhelming. 'now my mascara runnin', red lipstick smudged/oh, he so horny yeah, he want to fuck' like it's dick grayson, he'd fuck you into next week on a normal day so ofc he'd do it when you get all dolled up. ofc everyone's wondering when pretty boy grayson's gonna make an appearence in front of the flashing cameras. 'over there i swear, i saw them cameras flash' rolls down the partition just a smidge, to tell the driver to park somewhere private so you're not caught in an extremely compromising position. not that he really cares, everyone already knows he gets play anyways, it's more about your comfortability. tits out and pussy facing the world, on the cover of tmz and shit bc he got just a bit too cocky. no never that.

'cheauffer eavesdroppin' tryin' not to crash' you and the driver both end up getting a tip that night. he's sorry, he really is. but he just couldn't resist you, not when you were dressed like that. your intention was to have amazing mind blowing sex with dick that night but not in the back of a moving car. 'driver roll up the partition, please/i don't need you seein' yoncé on her knees' bc it was just supposed to be some quick head and now his pants are ruined, your dress is torn, hair messed up on both ends, and the amount of hickeys between the both of you is concerning.

you'd do it all again tho, and he knows you would. shit, he would too !!! and that's so evident in the way he teases you for the next few weeks about it. asking if he should take the dress to the dry cleaners knowing it looks like you'd been in a fight, suggesting you wear the lipstick shade from that night, asking if you need a cheauffer anytime you have to go anywhere, and giving you knowing looks everytime someone asks why you guys showed up at the gala over an hour late. "wardrobe malfunction and car trouble." he says with a smile. it looks normal to whoever you're talking to but you know it holds a level of cockiness that is so completely unfathomable, a level of cockiness he only gets when he fucks you.

(got a little carried away nonnie my b. ughh how i love a good lyrical breakdown, even out of order lol. seriously, this made my day. literally woke up and got straight to it. did not proofread this bc i...just woke up lmao)

[papayatori]

Don’t blink! (P1)

LN4 x fém!reader

Warnings: none 🤭

Intro: Y/n, an amateur photographer who was simply skimming through emails, hoping to find some sort of work, accidentally stumbled upon a job offer from the McLaren F1 team. After working closely with the two drivers she had grown up watching and hearing about her entire life,(and almost throwing up on the floor a couple of times), y/n has slowly started to realize that her love for McLaren, and possibly her love for photography, had slowly started to morph into love for a certain driver.

Let’s get to it, shall we?

Four years have gone by rather quickly since I moved out of my parent’s house on the countryside. I’ve moved onto London to be a part of their photography schools. I’ve been posting my photos since I was able to get a hold of a camera, praying that I might be accepted into one of their schools once I graduated, and I suppose it all paid off.

Funny how life works, huh?

I opened my laptop, hoping to sort through some of these unopened spam emails, possibly even find some sort of job offer somewhere. I took a sip of my coffee and began reading through the unopened heaps of trash.

I skimmed through, barely giving them a second thought before hitting the ‘delete’ button in the side.

“YouTube, Tumblr, McLaren-“

I nearly spat out my coffee. I swallowed deeply, coughing a little on the inhale.

“Sorry, what?” I asked no one in particular.

At first I thought it was an ad of some sort, as I was known for buying McLaren merchandise whenever I had the extra funds. Genuinely, I thought I read the email wrong.

“A job offer..?” A smile made its way to my face, one that held all of my nerves on full display.

Why the hell was McLaren asking me to do a photoshoot of their team?

…

…

…

Here I was, standing in the offices of the McLaren F1 team, waiting for someone to tell me where I needed to go. I took in the shiny white floors, the huge windows overlooking the scenery outside, the McLaren’s in display in the lobby for all to see their beauty.

I was about to throw up all over these pristine, white floors.

Before I spilled my breakfast all over the floor, I was ushered into a room near the middle of the building, one that was large and full of lights and professional equipment that once again made me question the need for an amateur photographer like myself. I looked around the room with my jaw to the floor, seeing stars over just how much fun someone could have with all of these cameras.

I really don’t have much of a life, do I?

“You know, I don’t know how to use any of this stuff, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard to figure out, but I figured you’d probably be able to work it better than I could.” I turned to the sound of a somewhat familiar Zak Brown.

My dad, before he retired, worked alongside Zak closely at McLaren Automotive. Ironically enough, I’d never really met the man who ran my favorite F1 team until this very moment. I had heard stories of all sorts of great things happening behind closed doors, got all of the latest McLaren news from my dad, and had never even set foot inside this building before today.

“I think i know just about as much as you do when it comes to all of the fancy equipment.” I said, gesturing to my small camera bag on my hip. “This is about as far as my knowledge goes when it comes to these sorts of things.” Zak smiled.

“Feel free to use it. Your dad used to tell me stories about your ‘photo shoots’ with the family, ‘heard those could get a little crazy.”

I laughed at that, remembering the silly holiday get togethers me, mum, and dad used to have. I remembered the time when I had them both on the porch swing for a photo, and right as I went to take the photo, my dad would blink every time. He had done this so often that I had started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose.

A loud laugh ripped me out of my memories. I realigned my gaze with the two young men that had just entered the room, the first one tripping over the second one’s leg. He locked eyes with me as he fell to the floor, grin fading only slightly as he did so. We stayed locked for a moment that felt like years, just staring into the each other. That’s when I recognized him to be the only person I was nervous about meeting.

I nearly threw up again.

“Nice of you to finally show up.” Zak joked with the two.

Lando looked up in surprise, as if not quite realizing Zak was standing on the other side of the room. Oscar just continued laughing at Lando’s shocked state on the floor. Lando stood up with a sheepish grin that they both sent my way. They acted as if they weren’t famous racing drivers who could have anyone they wanted.

As if they were the nervous ones.

“Hello.” I sent a small wave in their direction, praying Zak would step in and save me.

“Lando, Oscar, this is y/n. She’s going to be doing the shoot today.”

Lando stood up finally, proud and tall, eyeing me like he had to prove himself to me. He sent me a grin, one that would tear my heart to pieces if I saw it too often, and then walked towards me. Oscar seemingly got the memo and followed him along after a short pause to assess the situation. I smiled at Lando as he extended his hand out for me to shake.

“Nice to meet you, darling. I can’t wait to start.” His grin never left his expression as I took his hand.

Had Lando Norris just called me darling?

He squeezed harder than I thought he would, leaving a burn behind where his hand had previously been. The expression on my face must have given me away, the heat rising in my traitorous cheeks would never let me get away with the butterflies from his touch. Not to mention, this bastard knew what he was doing.

Though, I didn’t exactly mind.

I suppose my face had started to turn a darker shade of crimson than I had thought , because Zak sent him a look that I could only recognize as the ‘protective father’ look.

Lando’s only response was a challenging grin.

“Shall we get started, boys?” I asked, hoping to draw attention away from me.

“Where do you want us?” Oscar spoke, giving his hand for me to shake as well. I smiled, thankful things were working in my favor for the moment.

“Follow me.”

…

…

…

For the next three hours, Lando, Oscar, and myself we’re running around the studio and attempting to find some sort of style that worked for the boys. I had gone through the rack of clothing multiple times and had only gotten a few decent pictures of the two in the process. I had started to wonder if we’d ever get any actual progress on the task at hand.

It is exceedingly difficult to focus on the task at hand when you keep making eye contact with Lando Norris.

Lando and Oscar had insisted that we all take a break for a while, which I had spent mostly rummaging through the clothes provided. Lando was lying on the ground in front of the backdrop. I couldn’t help but take a glance every now and then, watching the way his chest moved as he breathed, minding the perfectly placed curl on his forehead. He looked too incredibly peaceful for me to be rummaging around over here instead of taking the given opportunity. I stood up, grabbing my camera and walking slightly over to the side. If Lando was finally at peace, I should be taking advantage of this. I took a few snaps from the side, wandering from different angles and catching him in his state of beautiful tranquility.

The LN4 girlies were absolutely going to love these.

At about the same time I had finished with Lando, Oscar stood up to unzip his leather jacket, saying something to Lando in the process. I smiled.

“Don’t blink.” I mumbled to myself.

I had not only, single handedly taken the perfect photos for McLarens Instagram, but also taken the perfect photos for the fan girls on twitter.

I saw this as a win in my part.

“Alright boys, I think I’ve got what I need.” I triumphantly raised my camera in the air, receiving two incredibly confused looks from the boys.

“I thought we weren’t finished?” Lando looked up at me with an almost saddened expression, standing to come see what I had gathered. I showed them both the photos, casually skipping over the ones of Lando that I had taken last minute. He didn’t need to see those.

“Holy shit, you’re better at this than Zak described.” Lando gave me a goofy grin that made me blush.

“I can’t take all the credit. You both helped me out in the end, I thought I was finished!” We all laughed a bit, feeling the tension ease as we came to a close.

“Well, if we’re done here, I’ve got a date tonight with my girlfriend, I’ll see you all later?” Oscar said, pulling his jacket back over his shoulders. I smiled.

“It was nice meeting you! Have fun.” He smiled back, sending a wave to the both of us. As he walked out of the room, Lando’s attention was redirected back at my camera. He plucked it out of my hands, skimming through the photos on his own.

“You know, for someone who knows so much about us, I don’t even know your name.” He gave me a sideways glance, insisting I speak.

“My name is y/n.” I said with a smirk. “And I don’t know all that much about either of you, I’m only here for the job” I heard him chuckle from beside me.

“Even so, you know a lot about how to take pictures of someone without them realizing it” he smirked, shoving the camera back in my direction, revealing the breathtaking photos I took of him on the floor earlier.

I really didn’t think this part through.

“I mean, I had to use an opportunity when it came to me. Twitter is going to love those.” I tried to play it off as if I had taken these with the intention of work rather than just attempting to capture his beauty.

“I’m sure you know loads about that.” He winked at me.

With a groan, I attempted to snatch the camera back, though his hold held firm. I gave him an annoyed look, even though I was slightly amused.

“You’re only proving my point further, darling.” I tried pulling the camera again, hoping to have better luck this time. I mentally cursed his stupidly attractive hands.

Accepting defeat, I let out a sigh.

“What do I have to do to get that camera back from you, Lando.” I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms slightly. He tilted his head as if to show he was thinking. His lashes fluttered as he blinked, revealing his beautiful green eyes, the ones any girl could find themselves lost in in a matter of moments. I felt the butterflies settling in my stomach as he finally replied, pulling me from my daydreaming.

“I think it’s a little unfair that Oscar is going on a date tonight and I’m not. So, let me take you to dinner. Then you can have your camera back.”

I blinked a few times, clearly confused.

“Im sorry, tonight?” I asked, starstruck.

“Well, I was thinking so, yeah. Unless you don’t really want your camera back.” Lando smirked a little in my direction.

My mind was racing, why was he asking me to dinner? All he had to do was hand me the camera back. Everything would have been settled then, and I wouldn’t have to see that breathtaking smile in person ever again. I wouldn’t have to look into his eyes or feel the butterflies that he somehow caused me to have. Hell, I’d just met the guy.

Oddly enough, I was about to go on a date with him.

“Alright, but I want my camera back.” I went to pull it from his grasp one more time, expecting to have it back in the safety of my pack.

“After the date.”

My jaw dropped to the floor. Was I hearing him right?

“Okay, after the date.” I agreed, only to see him take the bag from my side, place the camera in it, and place the bag on his shoulder. I rolled my eyes, opening my mouth again. “I have my own terms, however.”

He gave me a playful glare. “I didn’t agree to that, ma’am.” I chuckled, my hands finding my hips.

“It wasn’t a suggestion sir.” I mocked him with a playful grin. “You buy, I’m still in school. I think it’s a fair offer.” Shaking his head and trying to conceal his grin, he extended his hand.

“Deal.”

[jjvr4yxc]

They won't notice.

Summary: Dong Wook is attracted to you.

Today you will be visiting a variety show, well, you're gonna be one of the cast/members.

You will be with Kim Beom, Lee Dong-Wook,Song Kang and Kim Soohyun. You might be wondering why it's all boys... Well I am too.

Right now you are in the car, waiting patiently until you get to your destination. Today was a very tough day as a trainee actor, not only you need to be a member of some show, but with professional actors too! (Hot too, hehe)

Your train of thoughts got cut off when the vehicle suddenly stopped, making you look at the driver and to the window, that's when it hits you, you're here. (That's kind of a dumb paragraph)

Your palms started to sweat and your whole half body became noodles-- you are so nervous right now, being with professional actors with a lot of money! And in a big industry too! (Big dick 🤭)

The door opened, gesturing you to get out of the car, in which you did. Following the producers, you are now face to face with the handsome actors.

“hi everyone!” I bowed, bending my knees, “it's nice to meet you!” you beamed.

The actors smiled and introduced themselves, “I'm (Full Name), you can call me anything you want!”

“anything?” Mr. Lee repeated, making you nod and smile.

Mr. Lee looked at the rest of the men and smirked, in which they confusedly did too.

“well then, why don't you start your day?” the producers start, making y'all go inside and find your room, making the way to the room, you noticed it's a lavender painted room, it's fascinating. You will be the only one who will sleep here, sadly, while the men will be in one big room.

You unpacked your things and got outside.

“hi again” you smiled at them, making them copy the action, suddenly Beom asked us what to eat for lunch, we all agreed on eating bibimbap.

Mr. Lee cut the ingredients needed, while the rest of them were doing things, “Princess, do you know how to make desserts or anything sweet?” Wook ask, making you nod. “my family owns a cafe, you can trust me on that!” making him smile and continue what his doing.

You decide to grab the ingredients you're gonna need, you'll make Brownies, your favorite, since it's only 11:00PM, you can finish this.

Finding where the flour is, you found it above the counter, making you frown. You tried reaching it, but it was really high, you're too focused on getting the flour to notice that there is a person behind you, which is really close.

“do you need a little help?” Dong Wook/s deep voice let out, making you turn around, only to bump into his chest, which takes you long to process.

Looking up with a doe eyes, you smiled, nodding, “yes please ” you replied. He suddenly raised his brows, making you notice that there is only a single inch between your faces because he came downwards..

Your eyes widened, when he leaned to give your lips a peck.

“they won't notice that we are almost fucking, they won't.. plus I turned off the cameras.. just for you”

“we barely know each other.”

“so?..”

“we can't--” you got cut off when he smashed his lips into your own, making you stop taking.

Ok I'm tired I'll continue this tomorrow.

Plus this is fanfiction, you know it will have alot of chapters.

And tomorrow the continuation will be smut.

Don't worry, every man in this fic will have sex with you.

[yxngbxkkie]

rivals (l.k)

hey! i'm back with the skz street racing! i do apologize at how long it's been. the only thing is that i had to completely start over his fic, so the idea might be a smidge different than what was explained. it's 90% the same, but yeah 😅 i hope you guys like it! 💓

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

"Who's that?" You ask your boyfriend, Dal, while tapping his forearm. Your gaze focuses on the brunette across the street.

The frown on his lips is noticeable from where you're standing, his arms crossed over his chest. Dal releases a quiet grunt, and he rolls his eyes at the sight of him. "That's Lee Minho. He thinks he's hot shit just because he's quiet," he mentions, grabbing a hold of your chin.

Dal forces you to look away, meeting his eyes instead. "Maybe he's just quiet," you try to defend him.

"Baby girl, trust me," Dal mutters, releasing his grip on you. "He's an asshole. Stay away from him, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," you agree with a nod, grabbing a hold of his hand. "I trust you."

He smiles at you before roughly pressing his lips to yours. Heat crawls along your skin, doing your best to pull away from him. PDA isn't your favorite. Knowing other people are watching makes you feel embarrassed.

Dal proudly pulls back from you, giving your hips a little squeeze. "Come on, let's go meet the others," he offers, tugging you along with him.

You snap out of your thoughts when a hand snakes around your waist. Dal nuzzles his face in your neck as he stands between your legs. "Do we have to do this here?" You ask him.

"I just want to love you," he sighs.

A scoff leaves your lips as you look away from him, seeing Minho across the street. Today marks one year since Dal's warned you about him. You've yet to speak with the man as your boyfriend refuses you to go near him.

You recall the stories Dal has told you about him. How he'll play dirty just so he can win the race. How he's a womanizer, collecting women like trophies.

But looking at him now, watching him talk to the person beside him makes you think otherwise.

"Baby girl," Dal tsks, capturing your attention, "I need you to stop looking at him."

You furrow your brows, wondering why he cares so much. "Looking at who?" You play off, hoping to skip past the possessiveness. "There are multiple people here, handsome."

Dal rolls his eyes before glancing in Minho's direction. "There's no one else really over there, baby. No one goes around him except for Kim. I don't know why he'd want to be around him but whatever," he rambles off as he grabs your wrist, tugging you off the back of his car.

"That's his name? Kim?" You ask, not daring to look back, knowing it'll make him more upset. "Only reason I was looking is because I've never seen him before. Is he new?"

"Kim Seungmin is his name. He's not new," your boyfriend bluntly explains. "No one knows the reason why he disappeared for a while."

You hum in response, watching Dal as he walks towards the driver's side door. He grabs his wallet from inside, slamming the door shut afterward. "What are you doing?" You ask him, knowing the next race starts in ten minutes.

"I'm going to get something real quick," he mutters, quickly glancing at you. "I'll be back. Don't move."

He walks away from you before you can say anything else. A small sigh comes from your lips as you look around once again. Some people are finishing up the last touches to their vehicles while others converse, waiting for the race to start.

You find yourself looking in Minho's direction again, only to find his eyes already on you. Your heart jumps in your chest, not expecting him to stare so… sharply. Your gaze turns into a glare, the comments Dal has made about him coming to the front of your mind again.

Panic shoots through you as Minho pushes himself from the vehicle, making his way towards you. Shit, what do I do?! You silently question yourself.

"Y/N, right?" He asks as soon as he stands in front of you.

"How do you know my name?" You counter him with narrowed eyes.

Minho motions his head towards the direction your boyfriend walked. "Dal talks about you to everyone here. I figured you knew," he mentions.

"No, I didn't know," you mumble, feeling a bit embarrassed. Just how much does he say?

"He makes it seem like you know. But, I'm not surprised that he's full of shit," Minho rolls his eyes.

You shake your head, refusing to let him talk about Dal like this. "And you're any better?" You ask him, anger laced in your voice. "He's told me the stories about you, Lee Minho."

The brunette lets out a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry, what? What stories?" He tilts his head, and his arrogance starts to annoy you.

"Your collection of women that you sleep with?" You recollect, raising an eyebrow. "Your behavior is disgusting."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not knowing what you're talking about. "I don't collect women. You can't be that dumb, right?" The insult slips past his lips.

"Fuck you," you scoff, walking away from him.

Dal rounds the corner, almost running into you. Both hands rest on your arms, keeping you from falling on your ass. "Where are you going?" He asks. "I thought I told you not to move."

"I was trying to get away from Minho. He tried to talk to me," you inform him, your hands gently playing with the zipper on his sweater. "You told me to stay away from him, remember?"

He hums before kissing your lips. "Let's go see what the asshole wants," Dal seethes after pulling away, tugging you back towards his car.

By the time the two of you show up, Minho is about a quarter of the way back to his own vehicle. Dal shouts his name, gaining his attention as well as the attention of people around him.

"What do you think you're doing? Talking to my girl?" He asks instantly, raising his arms to shove the brunette.

Minho swiftly steps out of the way, avoiding being shoved roughly. "You introduced her to everyone else here, so why not me?!" He counters Dal's question, raising a brow. "Are you afraid she'd leave you for me?"

You and Dal scoff in unison. You didn't realize how much of an ass Minho was up until now. "For you?" Dal laughs, a smirk playing at his lips. "Dude, you've slept with half the women in this city. Why would anyone go for you?"

A crowd starts to form around the two of them and you begin to feel slightly uneasy. Minho taps his chin with his index finger, humming loudly. "Ah, right, I'm being pinned as a womanizer," he mentions before shaking his head. "I think I realize what's going on here."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dal growls, growing irritated with Minho's attitude.

"Everyone here knows the record you have with women," Minho states, motioning towards multiple women. He points to one with platinum blonde hair, remembering her being with him a few weeks ago. "He was with her three weeks ago. I saw them down the alley."

Your eyes widen, looking towards the woman he's pointing to. "You're full of shit," Dal says, "I don't even know who that is."

"Of course you don't. I'm done with this conversation," he announces. "You're a fucking idiot."

Minho walks away, sliding into his vehicle. He revs his engine once before driving towards the starting line. The crowd begins to dissipate, and Dal walks over to you.

"He's lying, right?" You ask him, avoiding his touch.

"Of course he's lying, baby girl," he tells you with a scoff. "I told you how much of a dick he is."

He tries to touch your arm again but you stop him. "I need some air away from you," you tell him, walking away from him before he can say anything.

You run your fingers through your hair. You don't know what's worse, witnessing Minho's personality or finding out your boyfriend is possibly cheating on you. You find the woman Minho accused and you quickly make your way to her.

"Excuse me? Can I ask you something?" You call out to her, giving her a small smile. She looks at you hesitantly before she nods her head yes. "Was what Minho said true? I just want the truth. I won't get mad, I promise."

She releases a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but, yeah. I swear to God he never mentioned having a girlfriend," she confesses, placing a hand over her heart.

You swallow the lump in your throat, trusting her honesty. "Thank you for telling me," you tell her before walking away.

You try your best to keep the tears at bay, blinking rapidly while staring at the pavement. Your footsteps slow once you hear Minho's deep voice.

"I swear to God, Chan. I'm going to stop coming to these. This guy is the absolute fucking worst and it's killing the vibe," Minho says into the phone.

You stop in your tracks, turning your head to see the brunette sitting in the driver's seat. His door is open, his legs sticking out of the vehicle.

Minho's eyes meet yours and he can see the unshed tears in your eyes. "I gotta go," he mentions before hanging up. He lifts himself up, shoving his phone into his pocket. "Hey, are you okay?"

You let out a dry laugh and lick your lips. "I'm absolutely fucking peachy. I found out that my boyfriend's been cheating on me. Not how I thought my night would go," you spit at him.

His dark eyes look down at the concrete sidewalk. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your relationship," Minho sighs, slowly reaching a hand out to touch you. "He's been on my ass ever since I started street racing. I just wanted him to shut up."

"I'm sorry I believed his lies," you whisper loud enough for him to hear.

"It's okay. You didn't know, and you were being a supportive girlfriend," he shrugs his shoulders. "I forgive you."

A laugh escapes your lips as he gives you a sassy smirk. He's pretty cute… You think to yourself as it grows quiet between the two of you.

"Hey, do you think you can drive me home?" You ask him after a minute or two, looking up at him.

"Yeah, sure. Although I have a race to finish first," Minho laughs, motioning his arm towards his car.

You shake your head and reassure him that it's fine that you're willing to wait. He slides back into the driver's seat, shutting the door afterward. His eyes meet yours after he fastens his seatbelt, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you going to get in?"

Your eyes widen at his question. "O-Oh, I don't normally ride in the car during races," you stutter, shaking your hands back and forth.

"I'm not going to leave you standing here by yourself. Especially with him still around," Minho nods towards his passenger seat. "Get your pretty self into the vehicle."

You press your lips together, knowing that you won't be able to get out of this. "Okay," you whisper mainly to yourself, walking around the front of his vehicle.

He leans over the passenger seat and opens the door for you. You thank him and slip into the leather seat, shutting the car door immediately after.

"Y/N!" Dal's voice captures your attention, glancing out the window to see him walking closer to Minho's car. "What are you doing with him?! Come on, let's go!"

"You lied to me," you tell him, trying to keep yourself calm. "I asked you if Minho was lying, and you told me yes. But, I found out that he wasn't."

"Baby girl, listen," Dal starts to explain, his hand reaching for yours. "She meant nothing to me. Why would I need her when I have you?"

You let out a dry laugh, scoffing immediately afterward. "You're so full of shit," you shake your head. "We're done."

Anger flashes through his eyes, and he does his best to try and force you from Minho's vehicle. "Yah! Have some fucking respect," Minho curses, leaning across your body to shove Dal's hand out the window. "You don't get to treat her like that."

"Fuck you," he spits at the two of you before storming off.

Minho's hand gently grabs yours, feeling your heart starting to flutter. You meet his eyes, providing him a small smile. "Thank you," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

He laces his fingers with yours, a smile coming to his lips. "If you're free tomorrow, I'd love to take you out to lunch or dinner," Minho offers, leaning his head against the seat.

"Are you asking me out?" You chuckle and bite your lip.

"That depends on what your answer is," he says before starting the vehicle.

Other racers line their cars up with Min's, hearing the announcer state that the race will start within a couple of minutes. He releases your hand and places it on the head of the stick shift.

"And if I said yes?"

Minho glances over at you. "Then, yeah, I'm asking you out," he mentions smugly.

You hum in response, a light chuckle leaving your lips again. "If you win the race, I'll go out with you."

He licks his lips and revs his engine. "Only if I can kiss you for good luck," Minho counters, his need to feel your lips on his very high.

Your cheeks blush and you don't hesitate to agree. The two of you meet in the middle, your nose brushing against his before his lips press against yours.

One of your hands finds the jacket he's wearing, gripping it tightly. The kiss is shorter than you like, a whine escaping your lips when he pulls away. Minho hums before slowly opening his eyes.

"If I win, can I kiss you again?"

"Yes," you whisper as a woman walks in front of the line of cars.

Minho glances back at you as you settle into your seat, buckling yourself in. The woman raises the flags for about ten seconds before swiftly waving them down.

"Hold on tight, pretty," Minho smirks while shifting into gear, speeding down the lit streets.

~

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @foxinnie8 @moon0fthenight @luckieleaf @stayconnecteed @tiaxa @yoonrimin @sunny-future @daysofskz-ateez @endzii23 @sweetbutpsychovalkyrie @bunnies-only @sleepyleeji @hhwangsmoon