#and it fits perfectly in that damn garage

[disneyprincemuke]

the orange peel theory * fem!driver

how many men in her life would stop to peel an orange for her if she asks randomly?

pairings: f1 grid x fem!driver

warnings: -

notes: juSt a random idea i got when i dreadfully peeled oranges for myself ugh i hate being single sometimes

guys this is the last vr update today i swear i’ve got too much times on my hands actually

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

-> max verstappen, #1

would be in the middle of an interview after quali when she comes up to him with a mandarin orange in hand

max stops mid sentence to look down at her in confusion but will take the orange into his hands as she asks him to peel it for her politely

he would cover the mic and whisper “can this wait? i’m in the middle of something” and she shows him her hands, perfectly manicured white nails with a frown and says “i’ll stain my nails”

and he just does it, peeling the orange as he carries on with the interview after she walks away without him knowing

when he finishes, he turns to give it to her but she’s no longer there and ends up eating the orange during his interview lol

-> logan sargeant, #2

he’d be sitting in his garage minding his own business when she comes and sits next to him with a bag of mandarin oranges in hand

he doesn’t even need to be told

he immediately reaches out and starts peeling the oranges for her, even tearing away the white strands because he knows she hates those

totally nothing to do with the fact that he’s had a crush on her forever

everything to do with the fact that they grew up together and he’s too lazy to fight

-> daniel ricciardo, #3

he’s literally just walked into the paddocks for race day

he feels all cool with all the cameras

suddenly she runs over to him with an orange in her hands and a hopeful smile

“peel this for me please?”

he does it without question

he walks the paddocks with her while peeling her orange and even sparks up conversation with her

-> lando norris, #4

literally walks away when he sees her approaching him with an orange

she’s been doing it all weekend and he refuses to be a victim

also because he’s not that fond of peeling oranges

or oranges, for that matter

she tries chasing after him but when she finally catches up, he simply ignores the request to peel the orange for her

-> pierre gasly, #10

he’ll be literally walking over to the grid for the driver’s parade

looking pretty cool in his cool fits

an orange is presented to him without question

he grins at her and thanks her for the orange

walks away and eats the orange himself

-> sergio perez, #11

would also be in the middle of an interview when she comes up with an orange

would peel it because he’s a mega dad and he’s really taken a liking to her

excuses himself from the interview to do it for her real quick

would take one piece of the orange for himself

claims it’s the taxes for making him do it instead of doing it herself

-> fernando alonso, #14

takes the orange without her saying anything

he’s always seen with seb on race weekends and is very used to her antics

literally gives her the orange peel and one piece of orange

eats the orange without her saying anything

she’s in damn near tears because she really expected fernando to peel it for her without question

-> charles lerclerc, #16

is sad that she didn’t bring him an orange too

still peels it for her though

even though he was in the middle of some paddock game with carlos

asks for a piece and because she loves him and her crush is still very much present, she simply gives him the whole orange

-> lance stroll, #18

he’d have been coming out of his racing home minding his own business

they don’t interact often because she scares him

is almost scared to say no to the orange peeling and actually says no

mutters “i always knew you hated me” as she walks away

which then makes him chase her to peel the orange for her and apologise profusely

because lance and her literally never talk and it took up all her courage to approach him with this orange, she gives him half of the orange

-> kevin magnussen, #20

asks her if she's got an extra orange for his baby girl

she literally came prepared and gives one to cute baby laura

so now kevin has to peel two oranges for two babies

outrageous, if u ask him

-> nyck de vries, #21

has unfortunately departed by the time she decided to be a menace about the orange peel theory

she thinks about him often though

they're texting buddies actually

-> yuki tsunoda, #22

literally came prepared

he's got a packet of candy he bought when he flew back to japan for a visit

she gives him the whole orange

she literally peels the orange for him in exchange for the candy

-> alex albon, #23

was literally walking to the grid for the opening ceremony of the race weekend

says no immediately

but he does change his mind and asks if he can have half if he peels it for her

peels it and takes more than half of the share

-> zhou guanyu, #24

is delighted to even see her because they don't come across one another often

is kinda touched that she asked him to peel an orange but then is disappointed to find out that he's not the first victim and that this is all a tiktok trend for her

peels it anyway

asks her to bring an extra orange if there's a next time as payment

-> niko hulkenberg, #27

she literally cannot find him

doesn't get to participate in the trend

she only saw him once that weekend and it was at the opening ceremony and she only had 1 orange for alex to peel

and on the grid in his race car

-> esteban ocon, #31

absolutely ADORES her

peels it without question

peeks around her shoulder to ask if she's brought another one for him

she says yes and that he's the only one who gets one for himself because she loves him back

-> lewis hamilton, #44

this psycho literally approaches lewis when he's on an interview panel

but that's because he asked her to do it at that time so he has a excuse to escape the panel

he's just so tired of the panel interviews

giggling with her like demons as he peels the orange

-> carlos sainz, #55

peels it for her without question

the only one to ask her why she's got so many oranges to eat and hand out

also the only one to ask her if oranges have been the only thing she's eaten all weekend

inhumanly impossible to eat this many oranges in one weekend perhaps

-> george russell, #63

is literally tearing up because she came to him to ask to peel the orange

he heard from alex what she's been doing

he's been waiting all weekend for her and was sad that it seemed like she had no intentions on letting him participate in her tiktok

she feels so bad for him that she joins him in peeling an orange as well

-> valtteri bottas, #77

is confused because he's just minding his own business using his phone during the driver's briefing

peels the orange for her anyway

asks if oranges are her favourite fruit

suggests eating something less acidic to avoid a tummyache

-> oscar piastri, #81

if anyone's tired of her being a menace with all these oranges, it's going to be him

but because he knows she'll pick a fight if he says no

he will peel the orange reluctantly

takes a picture with the orange because it's the same shade as the mclaren shirt he is wearing

— bonus

-> liam lawson, #30

asks her to fuck off

only ask him to peel an orange when she's lost all the ability to peel one for herself

asks her if he can have one from her orange stash

she says no in tears because he cussed at her

shrugs and walks away

-> sebastian vettel, #5

this clinically insane woman has got this 4 time world champion peeling oranges on the pit wall during qualifying

has him throw her a peeled orange in between laps during qualifying

eats it in the car for a racing 'buff' before she drives out for a lap

she's got too many oranges so he helps her eat some of them

eating oranges = beating mclaren = beating oscar because they're all the same colour and have a correlation obviously

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @sadg3

[pastryfication]

but that's just when you happened

pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: based on packing it up by gracie abrams and this request <33

the paddock roared with life as the cars zoomed past in incredibly high speed, but you weren’t focused on them. only one car really mattered in your eyes. his car.

never before had you loved someone so overwhelmingly much. never had you been so all consumingly infatuated. you wouldn’t consider yourself selfish—quite the opposite actually—but never had you wanted so many good things for another person. you wanted him to get everything he could ever ask for. everything from a cold pillow to a cool wind in his perfectly styled hair to something much bigger—something much more important. things like a win. a formula 1 win.

he wasn’t a loud person, quite the opposite actually, but when you laid together talking late at night, it was as if the words wouldn’t stop flowing from him. he told you about his deepest fears and wildest desires, and you listened closely, because he was so special. so so special.

you weren’t looking for love when you met him. you had actually sworn it off, but when you saw his dopey smile and warm eyes for the first time, all your rules went out the window.

every thought about packing up your heart for good—packing it away so it couldn’t be hurt another time—went out the window the second he entered your life.

no one made you blush like him, and it wasn’t even intentional most of the time. he just couldn’t help himself when everything about you was so damn beautiful. so beautiful and so perfect for him. it was as if you were build to be together, the way your hand fit in his like a puzzle piece. the way your head felt so perfectly placed tucked under his chin when you hugged.

with him, love wasn’t a game anymore. he ticked all your boxes, but you hadn’t even realised that before your friends pointed it out. the way you couldn’t find any icks, didn’t have anything you wanted to change, felt too good to be true. the first night you slept together where you woke up in his arms you almost panicked because the feeling was so new to you. new, but so so nice.

it was as if he was sent to earth specifically for you. and just at the right moment when you were about to pack it all up. he came into your life and changed it all. turned everything upside down.

his dry humour matched your dark one completely. no one could make you laugh like him. laugh until you felt like you were actually dying of happiness, like nothing mattered but the silly inside joke you shared.

he fit so perfectly in with your family dynamic. laughing with your father, sharing sweet stories with your mother, befriending your siblings as if it was the most natural thing in the world. watching the sunsets in the summer along with them, him standing close to you with his arm around your shoulder while your parents smiled adoringly at you. falling asleep together in your childhood bedroom, his hand drawing lazy shapes on you bare skin. repeating it all with his family afterwards.

he was your soulmate. you were 100 percent certain. you needed him him like you needed air to breathe. like you needed food and water. you wanted to listen to him talk forever and ever and even longer. with him by your side, you were sure you would die happily.

you held him after bad races and good races. through happy days and days were he felt like giving up. never did you let him ache alone.

you completed him and he completed you. you wanted everything good for him. everything he could ask for. but most of all, you hoped he would finally get the win he had so long longed for.

and at that moment, as you stood with his family in the mclaren garage, it finally seemed like a real possibility. your hands were squeezed tightly with oscar’s sisters. hattie holding so tightly on to you that your hand was about to lose feeling, but you didn’t pay any attention to it. you eyes were glued to the screen showing the race. showing your boyfriend in first position.

your heart was beating out of your chest, a lump was forming in your throat and your whole body was tensed up. this could be it. this could be the moment you had longed for for so long.

when his car crossed the finish line, you weren’t even thinking. no thoughts were clear in your head. nothing but oscar, oscar, oscar.

as soon as he was out of the car, he was running towards you. you had made your way to the barriers with the team and his mum, but he ignored them all as soon as he spotted you. his arms were around you in a tight hug and your head almost took a hit against his helmet with the speed in which he pulled you in.

but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered but him and the fact that he was a formula one winner. your winner.

a hundred cameras were probably pointed towards you, filming the first public display of affection he had ever shown, but it didn’t matter either. all you cool think was oscar, oscar, oscar.

it was weird how important he was to you. how intertwined the two of you were. you weren’t even looking for someone when you met him, yet here you were. you were so close to packing it up, but then he happened. he turned your whole world upside down, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. he was all that mattered. oscar, oscar, oscar.

[ild-rllrcstr]

The Second Seat part 5 (final)

Lando Norris X You (female driver) / slight angst / 2.7K

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

Summary You worked your way up to Formula One, contracted with McLaren, defying all odds. You play the team game: humble, strategic, and willing to follow orders, even if it means sacrificing podiums so Lando Norris can be the world champion. Every lap you sacrifice, every time you hold back, the world starts to doubt your talent. Lando sees it all. So he makes a choice: to give you the race, the recognition you deserve, and maybe his heart. You came for the drive, but you stayed for something more.

Warnings swearing, subtle explicit sexual content (18+) A/N Thank you all for reading my first completed series. It was a hell of an emotional journey writing this, and I really hoped you enjoyed it too! It was not only the writing that I enjoyed, but also creating the banners! Sometimes I feel like it takes me longer to pick the pictures than to actually write the stories. I’ll see you soon!!

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Music Messy (by Rosé, from the F1 movie album) As I've mentioned, this part was initially as one with part 4, and this music was accidentally on when I was writing. It fit too perfectly the mood of the part it got me writing way more than I planned to. So if you would like to have a soundtrack, get this song on and read through this part. Hopefully, you'll feel what I felt when I was writing! Enjoy!

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Tension. That’s what it felt like between you and Lando from the moment you arrived in Italy. He wasn’t unkind. But distant. Almost sulky.

On track, you were flying. Top 5 finishes for the free practice and qualifiers.

Off track? He barely met your eyes.

You did not expect it at all when he finally snapped.

You both stood in the garage after the tight race, one where you overtook him cleanly in Lap 38. He was sweaty, pissed, and biting his cheek.

“You didn’t need to squeeze me like that in Turn 8,” he said, not looking at you.

You turned, confused. “I gave you space. Even your engineer said it was clean.”

He threw his gloves on the table. “You’re driving like you’ve got something to prove. You already proved it, Y/N.”

You blinked. “What’s your problem, Lando?”

And then it came.

“My problem?” he snapped. “My problem is that I’ve been watching you shine with everyone but me. You give your best to the track, your smiles to Lewis, your damn fashion to the world, and I’m just the guy you pass on Lap 38. I thought… Never mind.”

Silence. Your jaw parted slightly.

“You’re jealous?” you said quietly.

He laughed, sharp and defensive. “You think I didn’t notice? Lewis is looking at you like you’re his protégé. The fans are calling you their queen. The way you light up every room now, and you barely look at me.”

“I always look at you, Lando.”

That shut him up.

“You think I didn’t see you watching me all year?” You continued, the frustration is eating you alive. “I waited for you to say something, even on the ski trip. I gave you space. I didn’t want to risk this. I’m patient when it comes to my career, but I don’t know with this” 

He was breathing heavily now. So were you.

“I didn’t know if I could be the guy beside you,” he finally said. “Not with how bright you’re becoming.”

You stepped forward. “You don’t need to keep up, Lando. You’re the world champion, you already lead. I’m the one who’s trying to run beside you. Not behind. Not ahead. Besides.”

Both of you breathing fast because you just came out of a race, but also something more. The scent of fuel still lingered in the air, but all you could focus on was him, the messy hair, the sweat rolling down from his forehead, the frown of his eyebrows, the fire in his eyes, confusion twisted into every line of his jaw.

“I never wanted to outshine you. I just wanted to stand next to you. But you…” Your voice cracked. “You’re pulling away, Lando.”

Lando’s throat bobbed, guilty and frustrated. “I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t know what I was doing and what to do.”

The silence between you tightened.

His mouth opened like he wanted to speak, then closed again. He stepped forward, just enough that you could feel the burning warmth from him, and when he finally said something, it wasn’t loud. It wasn’t polished.

“I’m known for saying whatever I want whenever I want, but I’m losing all my words when it comes to you. I don’t know how to be near you and not want more.”

Your breath hitched.

“Every time you smiled at Lewis, I hated that it wasn’t me,” he said, eyes cast down. “Every time you passed me clean, I hated how proud it made me. And at the Gala…” He breathed out hard, “Fuck, I couldn’t breathe watching you look like that and knowing it was not me by your side. And I was just scared that I would mess it up,say the wrong words, do the wrong thing, it’s more scary than moving in that fucking car going 200 kilometres per hour.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was in your throat.

“Then stop watching me from the sidelines,” you whispered. “I don’t need perfection. I don’t mind if it’s messy. I don’t mind if it’s scary.”

He looked at you, and this time, there was no mask. Just pure emotions. Raw and unspoken, waiting to spill over.

Suddenly, people started to come. There were still media and debriefing waiting. For a second, you forgot not just the cars but everything in Formula One moves fast. You both turned like nothing had happened. Space between you again.

But as you brushed past him, heading out, you murmured just loud enough for him to hear, almost begging,

“Don’t wait until the next ski trip.”

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A week later, Monaco, everything was so fast, something was wrong with your car, and you found yourself in your car, crashed against the wall at lap 20. Your body felt sore due to the crash force. Your head spun a little. You were helped out by the Marshals. Smoke coming out of your car, they immediately sent you back to the medical room. The safety car was out.

Lando didn’t know what happened until he passed your papaya car smoking on the side of the track, the marshals were trying to remove it, and he didn’t see you. 

“Fuck, where is she, is she okay?” He was squeezing the wheel so hard, it felt like hurting.

“She is with the medicals now, seems without serious injuries.”

“Keep me updated.”

The engineer paused a bit with the radio still on.

“Lando, her engineer said Y/N said you better get that podium today.”

You knew Lando was going to be worried, and you don’t want him to cost his points and also not McLaren’s.

“I’m getting that fucking podium, it is.” Lando tightened his jaw and his grip on the wheel. There was the force and adrenaline that he’d never felt before. 

It’s hard to keep refreshing the record in Monaco, with the difficulties of the track, but Lando did it again. Everyone was dumbfounded by his performance, it was not the competitiveness, it was desperation. 

He was not racing for the podium, he was racing to get to you as soon as possible. He needed to see that you are okay in person.

For the first time, he didn’t care that he got P1, he climbed out of the car, ignoring all the media, the rules, the schedule, he almost screamed at one of the crew members and asked where you were. The crew members were trying to calm him down and reminded him of the media and the rules to follow. 

“Lando, wait, you have to go to weigh-in, and media…”

“At least tell me if she’s okay.” His voice cracked. Raw. Panicked. The kind of panic only a crash could carve into a person who’s seen too many end badly. Witnessing and experiencing so many DNFs, it was the first time he felt like he was on the brink of a breakdown and fear.

“Lando.” Your voice.

He turned like he’d been hit in the chest. You were there, on the other side of the crowd, in your fireproofs still, smiling at him. 

He turned around, seeing you in one piece. He crossed the distance in a flash, hands immediately on your shoulders checking up and down, spinning you around gently, making sure you are okay. 

“Don’t ever fucking do that again I swear.” his voice shivered. 

He then pulled you into a tight hug. You winced a bit, still aching from the crash. 

“Shit, did I hurt you?” He pulled back checking you again. 

“I’m okay, it’s just the soreness and some bruises. I’m fine. But hey, ” You smiled, not forced, “You did it, again.” He was breathing hard, just looking at you like you were the only gravity that was keeping him sane.

“You told me to.” His eyes glued to yours through his helmet.

There was a tug on his shoulder by the manager, reminding him he had the media waiting. You saw the reluctant in his eye, and he squeezed his arm a bit to tell him to go.

“I’ll see you later, I promise.” You smiled and headed back to the paddock with other crew members.

The camera panned across the champagne bottles on the podium. His had two golden words scribbled across the side in messy handwriting.

‘For us.’ A small heart inked just underneath.

His head was not on the podium, he wanted to just run back to the paddock. Everyone sensed that he was absent minded in the media conference. Once it wrapped up, he rushed out of the conference room. Leaving Charles and Oscar being with big smirks on their faces. 

The celebration was waiting for him in the paddock. He ran all the way back, at the sight of him, the team and pans bursted into shouts and screams in excitement, but he was only looking at you.

He passed through all the crew members, media, straight to you. He held out the champagne bottle, the one he'd protected the whole time like it was priceless. The golden dedication shone brightly on the bottle. 

“I really thought the worst, what if I don’t get to see you again, what if I’m late because I was being an idiot.” he confessed, voice low and shaking. 

You stepped closer. The bottle between you.

He touched your face like he wasn’t sure you’d let him. “I’ve been such a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah, you were,” you whispered, “But I’m here, I’ve been patient.”

“You’ve always been. Too patient. And this time thank god you are.”

The way he looked at you, god, it burned. Like every second he'd waited was a mistake, and now he wanted to make up for all of it.

Then his lips were on yours.

Not rushed. Not timid. Just honest. All the longing and chaos of a year poured into one kiss, warm and deep and just messy enough to be real.

The team exploded in screams behind you. The media bewildered, cameras flashed non-stop. Charles whistled. Oscar groaned dramatically.

Lewis smirks, “Took him long enough, mission accomplished.” he said, everyone laughed joining him on the side.

But you barely heard them. Because for the first time, he wasn’t watching from the sidelines. He was right there with you.

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The hotel phone rang. Lando. You picked up the phone, expecting the usual.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Norris has a ride for you here that just arrived.” 

You quickly prepped, went down to the lobby to see what it was about.

“Allez ma grande, toi t’as de la patience, mais lui, clairement pas.” It was Charles.

(Come on, girl, you are patient, but he’s clearly not.) 

“Mais c’est quoi ça?”

(But what is this?)

“T’en demandes trop. Faut qu’on bouge.” 

(You ask too much, we need to go.)

Charles pushed you in his car, which drove all the way to the port. Charles’ yacht was waiting, but there was no one else but Lando there. He was in white button-ups and white linen trousers that floated a bit in the wind. 

“Thanks, man, I owe you one.” Lando and Charles shook hands. “Have fun! Just don’t sink it.” Charles joked and turned to leave.

It was quiet but peaceful, the yacht sailed out to the Mediterranean Sea.

Both of you sat in the front of the yacht, watching the sun set. 

“For Lando Norris, you’re awfully quiet,” you said gently.

“Trying to breathe,” he murmured. “I’ve been holding it all day.”

“I scared you.”

He nodded slowly. “More than I knew possible.”

You took his hand.

“It’s over now. I’m okay. Like I’ve said, I’m here”

He turned, finally facing you. “You walked away from that crash and still smiled at me like I was worth it. After all this time with my stupidity.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he reached out, his hand slipping under your jaw.

“I don’t want to waste another second.” His thumb traced your cheekbone. “Not when I could lose you that fast. Not when I’ve already lost too much time acting like I didn’t feel what I’ve always felt.”

Your breath hitched.

He leaned in, slowly, testing, until his lips brushed yours again. This time softer, deeper, no cameras, no cheers. Just skin and truth and salty wind in the air.

Your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, the kind that made your spine melt and your heart ache.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours, his voice low.

“I want all of it. Not just the podium. Not just the stolen glances. I want mornings. I want Monaco nights. I want you, the mess, the smile, the stubbornness. All of it. I want you.”

You nodded, whispering, “Then take it. It’s all yours.”

And he did.

He lifted you and stood up, walked all the way back into the cabin with you in his arms. As he sat down on the bed, he pulled you into his lap, hands finding the bare skin beneath your sundress. 

“These fucking dress, it kills me every single time you know that?” 

You smiled. His kisses trailed down your throat, hands warm on your back, touching you like he’d dreamed of it but never dared until now. You gasped his name into the night air, fingers threading through his curls, tugging him back to your mouth.

There was no rush. Just a slow burn, shared breath, soft moans against skin, hands that trembled because it meant something. 

“Can I?” He carefully asked you with lust and affection filled in his eyes. 

The second you nodded, like the lights off at the starting line, he slipped down the straps holding the dress on your shoulder. Clothes fell away quietly, one at a time, onto the deck beneath you as the sea rocked you gently, like the world was finally giving you room to be exactly where you belonged, tangled up in each other.

The air was thick with salt and heat, but it was his touch that lit every nerve under your skin. He kissed you again—slow, deep, like he was making up for every moment he hadn’t. His hands ran over you like a map he was just now allowing himself to explore, reverent and hungry all at once.

“Lando,” you whispered against his ear, your voice trembling as much as your hands on his chest. He swallowed the sound with another kiss, one that left you breathless.

“Say it again,” he murmured, lips brushing the edge of your jaw. “I want to hear it from you this time.”

You cupped his face, steadying both of you. “I’m yours,” you said softly. “Every bit of me.”

That undid him. Every movement was slow. Deliberate. A quiet reverence wrapped around the desire as he learned the slope of your waist, the hitch of your breath under his mouth, the way your body arched to meet him like you’d been waiting for this just as long.

“You feel like fire,” he breathed into your skin.

“And you feel like home,” you whispered back.

When your hips met, there was no hesitation, just a perfect, aching slide into place. The kind of intimacy that wasn’t about heat alone, but something rooted, deep and soul-splitting.

He buried his face in your neck as he moved with you, letting out a broken sound that made your chest clench. “I don’t think I’ve ever needed something this much.” he confessed, his voice cracking mid-sentence.

Your nails dragged gently across his back, grounding him. “Then don’t let go.” you whispered, and he didn’t.

Not for a long, long time.

When it was over, and your bodies were tangled in sheets that smelled like salt and sweat and something sacred, he pulled you into his chest and didn’t say a word for a while.

Just breathed. Held you. Fingers lazily tracing circles on your hip.

Until finally, his voice came low, hoarse:

“I love you.” He paused, there’s only sincerity in his voice, “And next time, I’m not waiting for a crash to remind me what matters.”

You looked up, kissed the side of his neck, and murmured, “Then you better stay close, Norris. Because I’m not slowing down.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer still.

“I never wanted you to.”

Of course, the next morning, when you leave the yacht together, there will be media headlines and a lot of PR meetings waiting, but you both know you will be facing it together, and what mattered was the moment. 

And in the quiet lull of the Monaco night, the world felt just right, for once, not fast, not ruthless, just you and Lando’s.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡

[studioeisa]

collision course 🏁 sunwoo x reader.

“I know what it was,” said Kim Sunwoo, strolling up with the unshakable confidence of someone who didn’t yet understand how much trouble he was about to cause. The young mechanic had a smirk plastered on his face, the kind that made Jeonghan instinctively want to flee. (Full Throttle, diamonddaze01)

or: sunwoo knows a lot of things about cars, but girls? a whole different story.

★ ferrari mechanic!sunwoo x race strategist!reader. ★ word count: 3.1k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: non-idol, alternate universe: formula one. fluff, feelings realization/denial, confessions, car terms. alcohol consumption, swearing/cussing. sunwoo has a crush and is lame about it. i know nothing about f1/cars and relied heavily on google— so help me, god. (if anything is wrong/off? we ball.) ★ footnotes: this is a self-indulgent, belated christmas gift for @diamonddaze01, because seeing a sunwoo cameo in her ferrari!jeonghan fic was an absolute treat. in her words, "had to bring my other man in here somehow."

At speeds over 150 km/h, the aerodynamic downforce generated by an F1 car is enough to keep it adhered to a ceiling— theoretically allowing it to drive upside down.

It’s a stupid fun fact that Sunwoo likes to keep in his arsenal of pickup lines. He’ll be in a new city, grabbing drinks with the garage technicians and pit crew members, and he’ll pull that little nugget of information out of his sleeve with a winsome smile to boot. 

“Wanna hear something cool?” he’ll ask his victim of the night, gesturing for them to lean in closer so he can be heard over the thumping music. 

His success rate with the fact is at a solid 83%, which isn’t bad. 

Would be nice if it could work on you, though. 

Of course you wouldn’t be impressed with Sunwoo’s technical F1 knowledge. You had your own array of race tactics and data analysis, always knowing just how to make the car’s performance fit within the larger race context. 

You were brilliant, productive, and ruthless. The brain behind the brawn of the indomitable Scuderia Ferrari.

Sunwoo is reminded of it now as he leans over the hood of the SF-23, his brow furrowed with concentration. He catches your eye from across the garage.

“Hey, strategist,” he grunts out, and you approach gingerly to see what he’s griping about. 

Once you’re by his side, he asks, “You sure about this tire strategy? Softs at the start? I don’t know if we’ve got the grip for that, especially in this heat.”

Your expression remains perfectly neutral as you respond. “I’ve run the numbers,” you say. “The tire temps on the softs will be optimal. We can manage the degradation. The first few laps will be crucial, but we’ll have an advantage after that.” 

An advantage. Sunwoo lets out a derisive snort. 

“We’re talking about a five-second difference in lap times, and track conditions are ass,” he argues, wielding the wrench in his hand as he speaks. “One wrong move? We’re out of contention. I’m telling you, we’ll burn through those tires too fast.” 

“And I’m telling you, I know the risk.” Your tone is unwavering as ever, like you’re far too used to your decisions being questioned by hard-headed mechanics like Sunwoo. “I also know the reward. Trust the data.” 

There it was. Your go-to catchphrase. Trust the data. 

In the years that Sunwoo has worked alongside you, he can no longer count on two hands the amount of times you’ve thrown him that line. It was your way of getting him— and everyone else— to shut up, and he’d be damned if he tried to push back on it now. 

“You’re the boss,” he mumbles as he goes back to checking the car. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees the slight twitch in your jaw, as if you’re contemplating saying something more. You seem to decide against it, instead choosing to walk off with your chin held high. Maintaining faith in your own numbers, in your very credo of trusting the data. 

Sunwoo shakes his head to himself. He can feel the pull of his gut, but your confidence is hard to ignore.

It quickly becomes apparent that your conviction— and your blasted data— are not misplaced. The softs perform better than anyone had anticipated. By the time the race is nearly halfway through, your tire strategy is pulling ahead. 

The radio crackles to life with Sangyeon’s voice. “You’re going to need to hold your ground now,” the race engineer says. “Great call on the softs.” 

Sunwoo huffs out an exhale. Honestly, he doesn’t even know why he still tries at this point. 

You materialize at his side wordlessly. At first glance, there’s nothing in your expression that might give away what you’re feeling or thinking. But Sunwoo has known you long enough to recognize the upward arch of your eyebrow, the amused purse of your lips. 

I told you so, you’re saying without saying, and he can’t help the way that it makes him laugh. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, running one hand through his sweat-slicked hair. “You were right. Trust the data.” 

“Trust me,” you amend with a knowing smile.

Sunwoo doesn’t quite know why, but something about your subdued smugness bowls him over. You’re already wandering off to check the timing board before he can grasp one of his witty remarks, leaving him at a rare loss. 

It was the strangest thing to admit, but he found himself wanting to be harmlessly wrong again— if it meant seeing that look on your face once more.

An F1 car can theoretically drive upside down. In the same vein, you’ve not-so theoretically tilted Sunwoo’s world on its axis.

F1 tires can reach temperatures of over 120°C during a race, which is necessary for optimal grip.

Sunwoo is no stranger to heat. His job has taken him all over the world, has put him through the sweltering temperatures of Bahrain and the merciless climate of Brazil. 

He’s learned how to handle those. 

Hot people, however? 

You’re several paces away from Sunwoo, your fingers wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle. There’s a lot of celebration in this middle-of-nowhere Austin bar, especially after Jeonghan finished P1. But Sunwoo can’t be bothered to care about his intoxicated fellow crew members. 

Not when you’re dressed like a cowgirl— a fringed vest, a leather hatband, and a goddamn hat. 

Was the bar a cowboy-themed one? Yes. Was Sunwoo prepared to see you in something outside of your usual race-day attire? Not quite.

He’s in the midst of untangling his complicated web of thoughts when you catch him staring. He looks away a second too late, because you’re rounding on him mere minutes later. 

“Never seen a strategist in a hat before?” you drawl, your attempted accent so horrendous that Sunwoo can’t help but bark out a laugh. 

Play it cool, a voice says in the back of his head as he leans on the bar counter. 

“Didn’t think anyone could pull it off. Especially you,” he teases. 

You sip from your beer, your eyes never leaving his face. Something about the action makes Sunwoo’s breath hitch. 

“Yeah? Thought I was all numbers and charts?” you shoot back, the lip of your bottle resting over one corner of your mouth. It’s a sight that’s going to burn itself into Sunwoo’s brain for weeks, he’s sure. 

“I mean, you do spend most of your time with a headset on, looking like you’re about to break down tire strategies. Not…” He gestures vaguely to your get-up. “Whatever this is.”

You laugh, and the sound catches him off guard. It’s low and easy, like you’re genuinely enjoying this. The two of you had always worked in close coordination, but light moments were rare in your high-stakes positions. “I can do both. Multitasking is my specialty,” you say breezily. 

Something about your tone— confident, but with just enough challenge— makes Sunwoo’s heart beat a little faster. “Well, if you can multitask,” he says, trying to keep it light, “I guess you won’t mind helping me figure out how to not make a fool of myself right now.”

There’s the ghost of a smirk on your face. “You’re not making a fool of yourself. Not yet, at least.” 

“So you’re saying there’s still time?”

“Maybe. Depends on how much you want to embarrass yourself.”

It’s a bit dizzying, how fast-paced this conversation is going. As much as Sunwoo would like to blame it on the alcohol, he knows it runs a little deeper than that. 

“You’re drunk,” he says for the lack of a better thing to say. The rest of his sentence goes unspoken: You’re drunk, and that’s the only reason you’re bantering with me like this. 

“Maybe a little buzzed, but I’ve got a clear head,” you answer. When you go on, your voice is pitched just low enough that he has to lean in a bit more to hear you. 

“You’re not exactly subtle, you know,” you note, and Sunwoo briefly considers making a run for it then and there. 

The air suddenly feels too warm, too thick. He tries to laugh it off, but it comes out a little strangled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Those little glances,” you say, flicking your eyes over him in a way that makes him painfully aware of every inch of his body. “You were checking me out, Kim.” 

“Was not.” 

Crap, Sunwoo thinks as the answer comes out of him a little too fast, a little too defensive. 

He backtracks. “I was just—” 

But then you do that again— sipping your drink while staring directly at him— and the words hitch in his throat. He’s caught. Completely. 

The flirtatious, suave Kim Sunwoo is in over his head, just because his team’s race strategist deigned to toy with him. 

What a joke. 

“You’re just?” you prompt, the slight grin on your face giving away the fact that you know what effect you had on him. 

Sunwoo tongues the inside of his cheek. “I was just trying to get my head on straight,” he finally says.

He’s not used to being on the back foot. He’s always held his own in situations such as these, and yet here you are— subjecting him to a sudden, wild rush of feeling with a few choice words and moves. His mind is reeling over the fact that this is how lethal you are tipsy. How much more if you were sober? 

A corner of your lip curls just enough to be dangerous. “Well,” you say, almost too casually, “looks like your head’s all over the place now, huh?”

There’s an unfamiliar heat blooming in his chest, one that burns far more than any tire blanket. 

“Yeah,” he grumbles in response. “No kidding.” 

An F1 car— including its driver— weighs around 740 kg, with the car itself weighing just over 700 kg.

Remaining lightweight is crucial to any car’s victory. Sunwoo’s job demands that he maintain the steadiness of things, never sacrificing safety for durability and vice versa. 

He keeps his hands steady as he fastens the car’s bolts one more time. The hum of the garage surrounds him, a familiar rhythm that he could work in with his eyes closed. It’s in moments like this that he feels most at peace. When the noise fades into the background, when the weight of everything else in his life feels distant.

Except the weight isn’t distant today; instead, it’s in the same room as him. 

You’d laughed at his joke earlier. Some stupid wisecrack he made about Mingyu of McLaren. He doesn’t even remember what he said anymore, because the sound of your giggle had just emptied out his brain. 

Sunwoo wipes his hands on a rag, shaking his head. Focus, he mentally chides himself. There’s a job to do. There’s always a job to do. You have to—

“Hey, Kim.” 

Well, so much for that. 

His gaze snaps up to where you’re standing by the garage door. You have your arms crossed in front of you, and there’s a slight frown on your expression. 

“What’s got you distracted?” you ask point blank. “You’ve been off all morning.” 

Busted. Sunwoo almost wants to laugh at just how absurd this whole situation is. How did he ever think anything would get past you? 

He tries, still, to brush it off. “I’m fine,” he says as evenly as he can manage. 

You step closer, your gaze narrowing as you look him over. For a second, Sunwoo feels like you can see right through him.

“You’ve been quiet,” you point out. “And usually you never shut up.” 

He raises one hand over his heart, feigning like he’s been wounded. That at least draws a small chuckle from you, but you don’t look like you’re going to back down any time soon. 

“I’m just focused,” he says. “Gotta keep everything in balance, am I right?” 

“Balance,” you repeat with amusement. “That’s your thing, isn’t it?” 

Sunwoo could praise the heavens at the opportunity to veer the topic into safer waters. He snatches up the opportunity, immediately launching into an enthusiastic ramble of, “Yeah. It’s all about maintaining the right weight. The right balance between power, handling, and fuel efficiency. Gotta make sure nothing’s out of place, or else the entire thing could fall apart.” 

Really, he should’ve known better than to think you would let him off easy. 

“And yet, here you are,” you say in a way that makes him feel like you’re playing a different kind of game now. “Completely off-balance yourself.”

Damn it. 

You’re not talking about cars anymore. Hell, you’re probably not even just talking about how preoccupied he’s been. Everything from the glint in your eye to the teasing edge in your voice promises trouble, threatens to read him better than any book. 

“I guess I’m a little bit off-balance,” he admits, the confession escaping him before he can reel it in. “But I’m getting used to it.” 

You give him a long look, something unspoken passing between you. Then, without warning, you smile— something soft, almost shy, and Sunwoo forgets his damn name. 

It’s like a weight he’s been carrying for so long has suddenly lifted, even if just for a moment. A glowing sort of warmth spreads through him, light and freeing.

“You’re not the only one,” you muse, your tone almost thoughtful now. “We all are. Maybe that’s what makes us good at what we do. We’ve learned how to keep our heads straight even when everything else is... a little out of whack.”

What is this ‘we’ business, Sunwoo almost teases you. The undercurrent of your words has him thinking this conversation has nothing to do with the state of the garage, but everything to do with whatever weird tension has been crackling between you two. 

The truth is, he's never felt this light before. The weight of his feelings for you, the tension in the pit of his stomach, feels like something he’s been carrying around for ages— but right now, in this fleeting moment of understanding, it’s like the air has cleared. He doesn’t know what to do with it, but he knows it’s there. This strange, giddy feeling thrumming below his ribs.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little steadier. “I guess we make it work.”

Surprisingly, he’s not worried about getting things right. He’s not thinking about the balance of power or how much he can handle before breaking. 

All he knows is that in this moment, with you standing in front of him, the weight he’s been carrying feels a little more like something he can handle.

Maybe it’s the start of something. Or maybe it’s just a crush.

Either way, it leaves him feeling light. 

A well-executed pit stop takes less than two seconds, with each mechanic trained to handle their specific role.

Over the years, Sunwoo has steeled himself to the pressures of being precise, of being steadfast and reliable under the world’s most insane time crunch. Every millisecond counts. He knows that better than anybody. 

He’s done this a thousand times, and each movement is like a second nature. The tires are off, the new ones are on. The fuel is topped up. The car is ready to go. 

Soonyoung’s car is on its way again, speeding off into the distance. Flawless, just like always. 

Sunwoo lingers, his eyes drifting to where you’re standing. He lets out a long breath, shaking his head slightly. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore how he feels whenever you’re near. And for reasons he can’t quite pinpoint, it’s only grown more unbearable.

Every second he spends just working with you is like another fleeting moment, ticking away before he loses the courage to say anything.

You’re reviewing data on your tablet, and so you don’t notice him right away Sunwoo coming up to you. When you look up, there’s the slightest shift in your expression. The smallest softening. 

“Nice work,” you say coolly. There’s something almost fond in the way that you look at him, and it has him feeling like he’s on shaky ground. 

“Thanks,” he says, trying to sound casual. He knows he’s not fooling anyone, least of all you. He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that he’s sure makes him look more like a mess than the reliable mechanic he’s supposed to be.

There’s a brief silence between you, the sounds of the garage fading in the background. The team is starting to disperse, moving onto their next tasks, but Sunwoo can’t seem to shake the weight of the moment. The pressure of the milliseconds, the years of perfecting his craft, feel insignificant compared to the one question that’s been gnawing at him for weeks.

If he’s learned anything from his driver friends, it’s that hesitation can cost you everything.

“Listen,” he starts, his throat suddenly dry. He forces the words out before he can second-guess himself. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

You tilt your head to one side. A wordless encouragement of go on. 

Sunwoo takes a deep breath, his hands still clammy despite the cool air of the garage. He’s never been good at this. Not the racing, not the work on the car, but this— this thing that’s been building up between the two of you. 

“I know we’re both busy, but… after the race, I was wondering if you’d want to grab coffee with me. Like, outside of all this.” He gestures vaguely at the cars, the people, the entire race track that’s been your shared world for so long. “I’d, uh, like to spend time with you. Not as part of the team. Just... us.”

You blink up at him, processing the words. For a second, he’s sure he’s just made a fool of himself. Maybe he’s misread every sign. Maybe you’ll just laugh it off.

But then you smile. A slow, genuine smile that makes his heart skip a beat.

“Finally,” you exhale, and Sunwoo doesn’t have the room to press you on what you mean because you hit him with, “I’d like that, Sunwoo.” 

So this is what it feels like, Sunwoo thinks, to finish P1. 

“Great,” he stammers. “I’ll see you later, then.” 

“Later,” you echo, your tone teasing but soft. “Looking forward to it.” 

Sunwoo steps back, nearly knocking into a tool box as he tries to take his leave. You don’t care much for his less-than-gracious exit; in fact, it makes you laugh a little, and it only makes him feel giddier than ever. It’s like a pit stop in the middle of a race— short, but thrilling, and completely worth it.

Every millisecond does count. 

And for once, he feels like he’s made the right choice with the time he’s spent.

🏎️ end notes: fan fiction of fan fiction? likelier than you think. if you love formula one and seventeen, you're bound to enjoy tara's ferrari!jeonghan piece, full throttle (part one & two). and to tara: this is insane. we have to stop exchanging fics like they're christmas gifts. <3 you.

[mostlyghoestly]

Chapter 3- Grease and Guts

A/N- Im thinking of making this a story on Wattpad after I finish on here! what do yall think about that? It will be more detailed, while less “Y/N” but following the plot of the story of the tv show more .

Summary:You shouldn’t be here, be this close to him but you just can’t help it.

Part 1 | Part 2

Tag List:@ihyperfixateoncharacters @untoldshortsofthefandoms @stormgrl19

You swore to yourself it was just the two nights. A fluke. A heat-of-the-moment thing. A harmless brush with a world you didn’t belong to but Ironwood didn’t let go of people that easy. Especially not when Shyann was involved. It started with a text while you were elbow-deep in flea dip, scrubbing down a wriggling mutt someone left behind in the clinic’s alley.

[SHYANN]

Garage hang tonight. You-Know-Who’s crew will be there. Don’t be a coward. I’m outside at 7.

You rolled your eyes. Left it on read. Didn’t answer when she called. And still… at 6:52, you found yourself standing in front of your closet, biting your lip as you stared down an array of clothes that didn’t feel like they would make you even fit in. Didn’t hate it though.

You went simple. A cute pale pink dress and flowed around you perfectly. You looked like a ethereal Fairy . Makeup soft and simple, mascara and some lip gloss.

The garage sat at the end of an old service road, half-swallowed by overgrown weeds and the crumbling bones of old brick buildings. The sign above the door was faded, paint peeling, but you could still make out Locke’s Auto if you squinted

The lot was full when you pulled up with Shyann , cars gleaming under harsh halogen lights, hoods popped, engines exposed like raw muscle. Someone had music blasting from a speaker in the corner, the thrum of bass bouncing off metal walls. Guys in oil-streaked coveralls leaned over engines, laughing and cursing. A couple girls lounged on the hoods of cars, looking half-bored, half-deadly.

You’d barely stepped out of the car before the smell of oil and burnt rubber hit you. And then you saw him. Ray was crouched by the open hood of his car, sleeves pushed up, grease smudged across his forearms. His hair was messier than usual, strands sticking to his brow. A cigarette dangled from his lips, unlit. He worked with the kind of easy, practiced confidence that only came from owning every room he stepped into.

You tried not to stare. Failed miserably.

Shyann nudged you with a grin. “Y/N, you’re practically undressing him with your eyes.”

You glared. “Am not.”

“Babe, if you looked any harder, that man’s pants would unbutton themselves.”

You shoved her lightly. “Go get your damn drinks.” She winked and peeled off toward the cooler, leaving you to hover awkwardly by one of the cars. You ran your fingertips over the chrome side mirror, pretending you were interested in something ,anything ,other than the man across the garage.

That’s when it happened. A smear of grease appeared on the hem of your dress as you leaned against the car. You groaned under your breath, “Shit.”

“Careful, Doll,” a voice drawled behind you, low and lazy like honey warmed over an open flame. “Gonna get yourself all dirty.”

Your stomach flipped. You turned, already knowing who it was. Ray stood there, wiping his hands on a rag, that signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Up close, he was worse. Smelled like motor oil, leather, and something sharper, something that curled low in your belly and made your knees a little too soft.

“Guess I should’ve worn something I didn’t mind getting wrecked,” you shot back, proud that your voice didn’t shake.

That grin of his widened, wicked and slow. “See, now you’re just teasing me.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks but held your ground, arching a brow. “You don’t strike me as the type that minds a little mess.” Ray chuckled, stepping closer. Not enough to touch, but enough that you could feel the heat coming off his skin, the way his eyes flicked down and back up, like he was undressing you in his head and didn’t give a single damn if you knew it.

“Depends on the kind of mess,” he murmured. The noise of the garage faded, everything else a blur in your peripheral vision. It was just him now. The way his voice slid over your skin. The way he looked at you like he could already picture you laid out across the hood of his car.

“I was starting to think you were avoiding me,” Ray added, eyes glinting.

You tilted your head, pretending to think about it. “Nah. I just have a job. Responsibilities. Not all of us can spend our days looking pretty in a garage.”

He let out a sharp laugh, genuinely amused. “Pretty, huh?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice dropping, “too late.” Before you could fire back, he reached out , fingertip brushing the grease stain on your dress. The touch was barely there, but it sent a jolt straight through you.

“Official initiation,” he teased, his voice rough and close enough you could feel the words against your throat.

Your heart kicked up, pulse hammering behind your ribs. “You always get this handsy with the new girls?”

“Only the ones worth it.” You swallowed, caught somewhere between punching him and pulling him closer.

He grinned like he could read your mind. “Relax, Doll. Not gonna bite… unless you ask real nice.” A voice called his name from across the lot , one of his boys, waving him over. Ray lingered a second longer, eyes locked on yours like a dare, then tossed you the rag he’d been using.

“Keep it. Might need it later. By the way, What’s your name?”

“Y/N” You said bashfully. And with that, he was gone. Back to his car, back to his world, but you could still feel him under your skin, like the aftertaste of something sharp and sinful. Shyann reappeared at your side, drink in each hand, eyebrows up to her hairline. “Okay, what in the thirsty hell was that?”

You grabbed the drink, not trusting yourself to answer right away. Shyann nudged you. “Don’t play with me. That was a whole-ass moment. I’ve never seen him flirt like that. Never. Why is it every time i step away to get drinks?!”

You bit your lip, staring down at the grease-smudged rag in your hand like it might burst into flames. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, it’s something.” She smirked. “You better watch yourself, Y/N. That boy’s dangerous.” And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like running from it. You felt like seeing how close you could get to the fire before it burned.

[ironinc]

My Turn.ᝰ.ᐟ

Tony Stark x F!Black Reader. (Smut/NSFW)

˗ˏˋ Your husband, Tony Stark, has been working in his lab for days on end, consumed by his latest projects. But little does he know that his focus is about to be interrupted by his most tempting distraction yet. You.

──── .✦

Very explicit & detailed. | A/N: Guys- Adult life has really kicked me in the ass for the past two months. I apologize for not writing anything recently. So I hope you all enjoy! | WC: 2,402

(Riveting definition: extremely interesting and exciting, and that it holds your attention completely.)

✮⋆˙

The garage was quiet except for the soft hum of machinery and the occasional clink of metal against metal. Tony Stark, shirtless, his muscular frame glistening faintly under the fluorescent lights, was hunched over his workstation.

His blue and white striped pajama pants hung low on his hips, the fabric loose but not enough to hide the defined V of his torso. His hands moved with precision, tweaking a small device that seemed to glow faintly in his palm. Focus. That was the word that had been driving him for days now. 

Focus on the project, focus on the science, focus on the damn problem in front of him.

But focus was a fragile thing, and you were about to shatter it.

You stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, watching him. Your bonnet kept your hair in place, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the sharp edges of the garage. The fitted white cropped top fitted your top frame perfectly. And your boy-short underwear hugging you just right.

You didn’t need to try to look tempting—it came naturally. And right now, you were very aware of the effect you could have on him.

“Tony,” you called out, your voice smooth and confident, cutting through the quiet like a knife.

He didn’t look up. “Yes, mama?” His tone was distracted, his eyes still fixed on the device in his hands.

“You’ve been down here for days,” you said, stepping into the room. Your bare feet made no sound on the concrete floor, but your presence was impossible to ignore. “Don’t you think it’s time for a break?”

“Almost got it,” he muttered, not even glancing your way. “Just need to—”

You stopped right beside him, close enough that you could smell the faint hint of sweat and metal on his skin. So close, yet so oblivious. You reached out, letting your fingertips trail lightly over his shoulder. His muscles tensed under your touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“Tony,” you said again, softer this time, leaning in so your breath brushed against his ear. “Look at me.”

You wanted to be riveting. Why is it so difficult?

Finally, he did. His dark eyes met yours, and you saw the moment his focus shifted. The device in his hand was forgotten, set down carelessly on the workbench as he turned to face you fully. His gaze was intense, searching as if he were trying to figure you out. But you weren’t here to be figured out. You were here to take.

“You’re distracting me,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing.

“Good,” you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. You stepped closer, your body nearly touching his. “You’ve been distracted long enough by your toys. Time to focus on me.”

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Is that so?”

“Mmhm.” You reached up, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the stubble rough against your skin. His eyes never left yours, the intensity between you growing with every second. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

“And what exactly do you plan to do about it?” he asked, his voice dropping even lower, a challenge in his tone.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, demanding, a silent declaration of what you wanted. Tony didn’t hesitate. His hands came up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as he kissed you back with equal fervor. The taste of him was intoxicating, the heat of his mouth making your head spin.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing hard. His eyes were dark with desire, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured, his voice smooth.

“You love it,” you shot back, a smirk tugging at your lips.

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he grabbed you by the hips and spun you around, pressing you against the edge of the workbench. The metal was cool against your back, a sharp contrast to the heat of his body as he leaned in, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. You gasped, your hands gripping the edge of the bench as he kissed and nipped his way down your neck.

“Tony,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

“Tell me what you want,” he growled against your skin, his hands sliding up your thighs.

“You know what I want,” you replied, your tone defiant even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your boy-short underwear. “Say it.”

“You,” you said, your voice firm despite the way your heart was racing. “I want you.”

That was all he needed to hear. In one swift motion, he yanked your underwear down, letting it fall to the floor. His hands were everywhere, cupping your ass, sliding up your thighs, teasing the wetness between your legs. You were already so turned on, your body aching for him.

“Fuck,��� he muttered, his fingers brushing against your slick folds. “You’re already dripping for me.”

You bit your lip, holding back a moan as he teased you, his fingers sliding through your wetness but not quite giving you what you wanted. “Tony, please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Please what?” he asked, his breath hot against your ear.

“Fuck me,” you said, the words coming out in a rush. “Please, just fuck me.”

In one smooth motion, he kicked off his pajama pants, his cock springing free. You didn’t even have time to admire him before he was lifting you up, settling you on the edge of the workbench. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours as he guided himself to your entrance.

From your wetness he was easily inside you, filling you completely in one thrust. You gasped, your head falling back as he buried himself to the hilt. It was overwhelming, the way he stretched you, the heat of him making your toes curl.

Tony didn’t give you time to adjust. He started moving, his hips snapping against yours with a rhythm that left you breathless. Each thrust pushed you closer to the edge, your body tightening around him as pleasure coursed through you.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

You obeyed, your eyes meeting his as he fucked you. The intensity in his gaze was almost too much, but you couldn’t look away. It was like he was seeing straight through you, down to the very core of who you were.

“You look so pretty taking me in— fuck.” he growled, his hands gripping your thighs as he pounded into you. 

You couldn’t even muffle a word because of how smoothly he pounded you. His words were barely audible over the sound of your bodies colliding anyway.

He shifted slightly, hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your legs tightening around his waist as he moved. You were so close, so close, and you could feel him getting there too, his thrusts growing more erratic.

“Come on my cock baby,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

And you did. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body shaking with the force of it as you screamed his name. Tony wasn’t far behind, his own release coming in a hot rush as he buried himself deep inside you.

Tony stayed where he was, his forehead resting against yours as you both came down from the high.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, his voice low but teasing.

You smirked, your hands trailing lazily down his chest. “You love it.”

“I do,” he admitted, pulling you closer. “But next time, maybe warn me before you interrupt my work.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you asked, your tone playful.

Tony just shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re—“

Tony’s hands slid down your back, his fingers digging into your hips as he lifted you effortlessly off the workbench. His breath was hot against your neck, his chest still rising and falling heavily from the intensity of what had just transpired. 

“You’re not done with me yet, are you?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as if he already knew the answer.

You shook your head, biting your lip as he carried you toward the sleek, classic red sports car parked in the corner of the garage. The cool metal of the hood sent a shiver up your spine as he placed you down, your bare skin meeting the smooth surface. His eyes darkened as he stepped back, his gaze raking over your body like he was memorizing every inch of you. 

“Spread your legs,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You obeyed, your thighs parting slowly, revealing the slickness between them. Tony groaned, his hands gripping your knees as he pulled you closer to the edge of the hood. His lips curled into a wicked smirk as he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. “So fucking wet for me,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

You nodded, your breath catching as his tongue flicked out, tasting you for the first time. His hands tightened on your thighs, his grip firm but not painful, as he devoured you with an intensity that left you trembling. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate circles, teasing and taunting as he worked you into a frenzy. “Oh my god, Tony,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

He chuckled against you, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. “You taste so good,” he murmured, his lips brushing against you as he spoke. “I could do this all day.”

“Please,” you begged, your hips rocking against his face as the pressure built inside you. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. Instead, he increased the pace, his tongue driving into you with a rhythm that had you seeing stars. Your back arched off the hood of the car, your bonnet slipping slightly as you writhed beneath him. “Tony, I—I’m gonna—” The words caught in your throat as the first wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body shuddering as he continued to work you through it.

When he finally pulled away, his lips glistening with your arousal, he looked up at you with a satisfied grin. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come,” he said, his voice husky with need. 

“But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could respond, he flipped you over, your stomach pressed against the cool metal of the hood. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly as he positioned himself behind you. “You ready for me?” he asked, his cock pressing against your entrance.

“Yes,” you breathed, your body trembling with anticipation. “Please, Tony. Fuck me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a low groan, he slid into you, his cock stretching you in the most delicious way. Your hands gripped the edge of the hood, your knuckles turning white as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. “God, you feel amazing,” he muttered, his hands moving to grip your ass as he picked up the pace.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the garage, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. Tony’s hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, your ass, your thighs as he fucked you with an intensity that left you breathless. “You’re so tight,” he growled, his voice strained with effort. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“Harder,” you begged, your body craving more. 

“Please, Tony. Fuck me harder.”

He obliged, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he drove into you, the hood of the car creaking beneath your combined weight. One of his hands slid around your waist, his fingers finding your clit as he continued to pound into you. “You like that?” he asked, his voice tinged with both amusement and desire.

You couldn’t even form a coherent response, your body too overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. “Tony, I’m—” The words were cut off by a cry of pleasure as you came again, your body tightening around him as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

Tony groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hand tightening on your hip as he buried himself deep inside you, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.

For a moment, the only sound in the garage was the sound of your heavy breathing as you both came down from the high. Tony’s hands moved to your shoulders, gently pulling you up until your back was pressed against his chest. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft as he brushed a kiss against your neck.

You nodded, your body still trembling slightly. “Yeah,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. “That was… amazing.”

He chuckled, his arms wrapping around you as he held you close. “You’re amazing,” he corrected, his lips brushing against your ear. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get any work done with you around.”

You turned to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. “You don’t,” you said, your tone teasing. “I’m your biggest distraction, remember?”

Tony laughed, his hands moving to cup your face as he kissed you deeply. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he murmured when he finally pulled away. “But next time, maybe we take it to the bedroom. I don’t think my car can handle much more of this.”

You laughed, your fingers trailing lazily down his chest. “Deal,” you said, your tone playful. “But no promises.”

He shook his head, placing a small kiss on your lips before a smile appeared on his lips. 

ᯓᡣ𐭩

Here’s a really small thing I wrote for Tony since I haven’t wrote anything for him in a while and in general. I hope you guys are well, I’m gonna try to at least post something once a week because of my adult life kicking me in the butt, I love you guys stay safe and healthy 😝

[TikTok Credits: Jaffyae on TikTok]

- I’ll see you soon ‹𝟹 ( Masterlist) ⋆˚࿔

[onlyangel4]

unexpected. SMAU. LH44. final part.

lewis hamilton x tattoo artist! reader

in which reader is the last person someone you expect to find in the paddock and that is what makes him drawn to you. or lando's tattoo artist friend visits the paddock to tattoo zak brown after the miami gp win and the internet goes mad.

warnings- cursing

part one // part two

main faceclaim is ryan ashley malarkey

y/ntattoos posted a story

written: lilith's first time abroad is gonna be a fun one.

hamiltonupdates

liked by user17, user43, user53 and 18,732 others

hamiltonupdates: lewis and roscoe seen arriving to the canadian gp. he arrived with y/n y/ln the tattoo artist that he was pictured with at the italian gp and her dog lilith. something tells us that this is not just a coincidence

view all 2,341 comments

user17: damn i thought we had escaped y/n

user53: no cause if they are having a dog play date that is the cutest thing

user43: fuck it. i'm speaking my truth, i love y/n and hope that they are together

y/ntattoos posted a story

written: lilith's first gp

landonorris replied to your story: TRAITOR

y/ntattoos: oh shh you knew i was going to be in mercedes hospitality

landonorris: i know but still i miss my god daughter

mercedesamgf1

liked by y/ntattoos, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 459,289 others

mercedesamgf1: puppy love in the mercedes garage today

view all 52,319 comments

y/ntattoos: in lilith's defence roscoe doesn't actually seem phased

lewishamilton: did he tell you that

y/ntattoos: yeah he told me he loves her and wants her around all the time

lewishamilton: my poor son is now a chair

y/ntattoos: if lilith fits, lilith sits i don't make the rules

georgerussell: wishing that we always have dogs in the garage

lewishamilton: roscoe is almost always there george

georgerussell: i mean cute dogs that don't drool like roscoe

user10: see even mercedes admin likes y/n so just leave her alone

liked by lewishamilton, y/ntattoos and mercedesamgf1

mclaren: you took our girl and her dog. how dare you!

mercedesamgf1: admin is willing to fight to the death for y/n and lilith

mclaren: name a time and a place

y/ntattoos

liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, landonorris and 219,829 others

y/ntattoos: the best weekend

thank you for having us mercedesamgf1

view all 67,102 comments

lewishamilton: i think roscoe is already missing lilith

y/ntattoos: and lilith is really mssing roscoe

user19: they are flirting through their dogs. she matches his freak perfectly.

mercedesamgf1: we love you y/n

georgerussell: second !

carmenmundt: third !

y/ntattoos: love you all

user32: the entire mercedes garage loves her so all you haters should just shut tf up liked by y/ntattoos

landonorris: i was gonna leave an angry comment but y'all are cute

user41: LANDO WHAT DO YOU KNOW

lewishamilton posted a story

written: here we go @.y/ntattoos

landonorris replied to your story: make sure you don't cry like a baby in front of your girlfriend

lewishamilton: lando i have been tattooed so many times before. i think you might be projecting

lewishamilton posted a story

written: all new finger tatts done by the talented @.y/ntattoos

y/ntattoos

liked by lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco, user47 and 512,091 others

y/ntattoos: today black hope tattoo studios welcomed roscoe (and his dad)

view all 43,210 comments

roscoelovescoco: lilith is the best napping partner ever

liked by y/ntattoos

lewishamilton: amazed by how talented you are

y/ntattoos: aw thank you lew

user47: omg lew, they have to be dating

user92: it is silverstone week shouldn't he really be training and not wasting time with her

user12: they are fucking adults. leave them alone.

y/ntattoos posted a story

written: here we fucking go

f1wags

liked by f1fan, user12, user70 and 34,510 others

f1wags: firstly, well done lewis! secondly, this win has revealed a brand new wag in y/n y/ln. there have been rumours surrounding the tattoo artist dating lewis since they met in italy but today has cemented it. when lewis won cameras cut to y/n happy sobbing in the mercedes garage with roscoe in her arms and then she ran over to the podium to congratulate him.

view all 22,119 comments

f1fan: for all the hate she got in the beginning i love her

user12: her carrying roscoe to the podium made me cry

user70: best wag confirmed?

y/ntattoos

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, landonorris and 976,102 others

y/ntattoos: lew. i am so incredibly captivated by your talent, i spent that whole race just watching you make good decisions again and again, your brain amazes me. i am so fucking proud of you my love.

view all 102,119 comments

lewishamilton: i had the best support imaginable

y/ntattoos: i love you

mercedesamgf1: y/n you just made admin cry all over again

y/ntattoos: sorry admin. love you !

landonorris: finally, i don't have to keep this secret

lewishamilton

liked by y/ntattoos, mercedesamgf1, landonorris and 3,149,209 others

lewishamilton: full silverstone post is in the works. but first i would like to introduce you all to my lucky charm.

view all 721,109 comments

y/ntattoos: you did it baby

lewishamilton: lcould not have done it without your support my love.

user62: this man wins a grand prix for the first time in over 900 days and his first priority is to hard launch his girlfriend. i want a love like that.

mercedesamgf1: brand new wag just dropped

taglist for this series: @ilivbullyingjeongin @formulaal @xoscar03

[graysnetwork]

i saw that you had keegan requests open and was wondering if could elaborate more on meeting or general relationship with southern!keegan ? i love the way you write him and so i got curious when you mentioned it hehe. totally fine to ignore this too ✮ <3 tysm for your writing !!

tysm babes🙈💕

I should totally make this another series🙇🏻‍♀️

a few headcannons

- A gentlemen.

Keegan has this law that he abides by to treats you with the utmost respect and care. Opening doors, buckling you into your seat, buying you flowers, providing for you, cleaning and fixing your car—because a pretty thing like you shouldn’t pay a thousand dollars on something your man can fix.

There’s been several times Keegan’s had to lecture you.

“I know you’ve always been an independent woman, and I.. admire that ‘bout you, but you’re with me now. Alright, sweetheart? I open your door for you when we’re together.” Keegan says and closes your door again just to open it for you.

- The boots👅

Okay, perhaps this is self indulgent🤓

Keegan owns 500 pairs of boots, work boots, clean boots, his rodeo boots, and a few others. He likes them and he knows he looks good in them—or really, he just knows you like seeing him in them.

And when he pairs his boots with his cowboy hat he might as well just meet you in bed already and smack the hat right on your own head.

- Working

The man is a hard worker on the field and off. Taking care of the little lambs and bunnies you wanted so badly on your small farm. He just looks so scrumptious when he’s walking to the little barn while you sit on the porch and pet your golden retriever.

Don’t even get me started on his body babes.

Keegan walks around the house house and land when you two are out on purpose. He likes how your eyes burn holes into his body as he lifts hay off his Ford F-150 and leads the horses back to the barn.

Sometimes he even goes out with a shirt so you can watch him take it off.

Something about the was his pants fit him so good, and he has those boots on and the cowboy hat sits perfectly on his head as he walks around in the sun, is just 👌

A lone drop of sweat making its way down his back as he adjusts his hat is better than any smexy romance movie you’ve watched.

- Truck

His truck is on of his most prized possessions—the first being you obviously🙄.

But he has an old truck from his dad that’s in the garage because it barely runs anymore but he can’t bring himself to sell it. So he still has it but he drives his newer Ford F-150 instead. It’s also very special to him since it’s his first car bought on his own. And he looks damn good driving it.

Especially at the family functions when he’s backing in, looking back as he’s parking. And he gets out to unload the coolers for the party.

Oh and trailing back to the thing about him providing for you. He definitely bought you a little G-wagon or a a Bronco because he doesn’t need you complaining about how his truck feels like driving a tank.

At this point he’ll buy you a car for each day of the week, or your moods.

—

You’d just been stuffed with food by your in laws at the family thanksgiving dinner and you and Keegan were just about ready to leave before the topic about some cars had rekindled. Now you had to stand in the garage by the rest of your (fairly new) family, watching as Keegan, his dad, brother, and his sisters husband talked about how to fix something to do with the engine. Or something like that, you didn’t really pay attention.

But now you were interested as Keegan explained he’d done the same thing to your car sometimes last week and he knew how to fix the damn thing.

You could feel yourself getting.. (erm👀) interested as Keegan mansplained how to fix whatever was wrong with the car. Something about the way he was taking initiative, talking, fixing, and leaning over the car was subtly reminding you his little habits in bed.

And once he finished fixing the problem and the car was as good as new, you pulled him out of the house without anymore side conversations and got him to go home quickly where he gave you the best night in bed.

—

Or when you watched him mowing the lawn as you sat on your porch. It was hotter than anything you’d seen in your life. Was it normal to be this attracted to your husband? You didn’t know.

But you sat there in your silk pajamas he’d paid for as he pushed the lawn mowers across the grass. His torso on full display as he did so. His muscles flexed as he walked with the machine. Maybe you’d have to drag him back to bed after all.

I absolutely loved writing this, i had sm fun (can you tell? *literally wrote too many paragraphs*)

i’m definitely gonna have to write more of this version of him. lmk some more things i should add to his list of green flags🙇🏻‍♀️

thanks for coming to my ted talk👅

[ornii]

She Likes to Flirt (A Lot)

Natasha Romanoff X Male Reader (Short & Sweet) (Yup, Like Nat)

You obviously have a thing for Nat, and Almost everyone sees it.

Being the Spirit of Vengeance you held within yourself the devils bounty hunter, making you one of the most powerful begins on earth and a potential Level 10 Threat. Obviously you were scouted by S.H.I.E.L.D and joined their marry band of heroes, the Avengers. And after the little stunt in New York, the rest was history. Mission after mission you slowly grew closer to Natasha. Seasoned Assassin and Spy, she was the first you met due to her doing recon for Nick Fury. Naturally you two grew to be good friends, perhaps, even more.

It was nearing Night, after another mission at Sokovia you headed back to Stark Tower to celebrate, the massive parking garage opens up and you park your chopper there. Following behind was Natasha as usuals, somehow the Jeep didn’t get demolished in the fight. You chucked as you walked to the elevator. Natasha follows, looking at the bike.

“Aren’t gonna take your keys?” She asked, “Trust me, that bike isn’t going anywhere without me.” You reassured her, tapping the upper floors you both stood there as it began to rise. She dusts herself off as you try to put the flames off on your coat.

“Good mission overall.” She said, “Yup, Bruce and Tony are in their nerd lab brooding or something. With them together I’m a bit worried.”

“Don’t be. We can handle them, well I can.” She said, “What’s that supposed to mean?” You respond and she keeps her eyes forward, smiling. She ignores your question.

“You stink.” She said.

“I Tore through hydra guards like butter with a hot knife, I’m gonna stink. I’m pretty proud of that.” You said, “You do have a lot of. Good assets.” Nat said.

“Well damn that’s a first. A compliment.” You said.

“Now you know Steve doesn’t like that kind of language.” She said jokingly, you bite your lip and look forward trying not to laugh.

“He’s never gonna live that down.” You said

“Ever.” Natasha comments.

“You know you stink too right? Gonna need to shower.”

“Obviously, we have a party tonight, plus I have to put my face on, or whatever normal women say.” Natasha looks at her reflection.

“You’re Normal Nat.” You said to cheer her up. She turns to you, smiling. “I’m an assassin and you’re a bounty hunter for the devil, we’re not normal.”

“Well obviously but, looks wise, you don’t need to put on your face, looks good as is.” You point out, poking her forehead. Before she can open her mouth for some cheeky response, the Elevator opens and you step out.

“See you tonight Red.” You give her a send off before heading to the one room you somewhat own in the Tower.

The Party Finally arrives and you’re mingling with Thor and Rhody, who’s giving an, interesting story.

“Well, you know, the suit can take the weight, right? So I take the tank, fly it right up to the General's palace, drop it at his feet, I'm like, "Boom! You looking for this?" He explains, (Y/n) and Thor exchange glances and then back to Rhody. "Boom! Are you looking..." Why do I even talk to you guys? Everywhere else that story kills.

“That's the whole story?” Thor asks.

“Yeah, it's a War Machine story.”

“Well, it's very good then. It's impressive.”

“Yeah the Tank Part was really cool.” You said, Rhody sighs. “Okay fine, what did you do that was cool?”

“Uh, recently? By myself? A meteor was gonna hit Sweden so, I flew into the air and used my chain to pull the meteor back and hurl it into the atmosphere.” You casually explain, Rhody looks flabbergasted. “It was a Tuesday, I think.” You said, Rhody walks off as Thor Pats you on the shoulder. “That’s, very impressive.” And walks off, maybe you were going a little too high, you finished your beer and looked to the bar for more, what caught your eye was the redhead in a perfectly fitting white dress, you mosey over and casually slide down on a seat. Your eyes and Nat’s lock, and she smiles.

“Come here often, handsome?” She was the first to lay the foundation for the chat and you went right along with it.

“No, first time, but I saw this beautiful bombshell working the Bar and I had to see her.” You reply, Nat couldn’t hide her smile.

“Now what kind of man would leave a woman like you all by your lonesome, must have a bad taste in them.” You added on.

“He's not so bad. Well, he has a temper. Deep down he's all fluff. Fact is, he's not like anybody I've ever known. All my friends are fighters. And here comes this guy, trying to actually do the right thing. Even if he screws if up sometimes.”

“He…Sounds amazing.”

“He's also a huge dork.” She adds in, (Y/n) looks blindsided, Nat shrugs, “Chicks dig that. So what do you think should I fight this, or run with it?”

“Well, the guy really likes you.. I say give a chance, see where it goes? Is that, wrong to ask?” He asks, so hopeful. Nat smiles and sits up from the bar.

“Not at all, but, I think she likes you too, it may not look like it now... But never say never.” Natasha walks away, and Steve approaches (Y/n,) who sat there really considering her words.

“It's nice.” Steve said.

“What?” You reply confused.

“You and Romanoff.”

“No, me and her aren’t uh.. you know.” You mutter, Steven shakes your resolve.

“It's okay. Nobody's breaking any by-laws. It's just, she's not the most... open person in the world. But with you she seems very relaxed.”

“Yeah, Nat she... she likes to flirt. So do I.” You admit, now daydreaming of her slowly taking that dress off. But Steve ruins your daydreaming.

“I've seen her flirt, up close. This ain't that. Look, as maybe the world's leading authority on "waiting too long;" don't. You both deserve a win.” Steve gives you some damn good advice, and went off to his lonesome. You really thought about what he said.

“You know Steve, you got a point.. we do deserve a happy ending and— Wait, what the hell do you mean, "up close"?!

[ronearoundblindly]

ooo how would ce characters react if you started decorating for autumn in august? 🤭

Ya know, right off the bat, I can't think of anyone who's downright against it, but some of them would help and some would just leave you to it. One--take a wild guess--would throw an incredible bitch-fit if he tripped over one gd thing in his way, but otherwise...

Um, there's some language but nothing adult-specific.

Most Into Autumn Decor--Curtis Everett

Okay, there's a reason I worded it that way, but I was a bit surprised, too. I would not be able to tell you if this somehow wasn't influenced by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork's "Life Is Short So Make It Sweet" series, but I truly believe Curtis would be equally into decorating for fall/autumn with you. He'd be the most active in finding decor, too, whether he's shopping with you there or just finding stuff randomly. He'd take the time to plan out and execute a whole thing in the house, and he would get the most joy out of sitting in the warm glow.

Honorable Mentions to James Mace, Johnny Storm, and Ransom Drysdale.

Mace will get into it but not as much as Curtis and for a shorter period of time. You best believe Johnny digs the campfire-and-s'mores vibes but is wary of shit hanging from the ceiling or dry stuff piled on the floor. Ransom is obviously into dressing for the season but also likes to find the most expensive version of all decor, so those beautiful, blown-glass pumpkins are a staple. Ran is perfectly fine if you want to repaint the damn walls every couple months to match the mood; he's fine with it, but he doesn't expend much effort.

Most Indifferent--Jimmy Dobyne

He doesn't hate the season by any means. He's fine with the colors. He likes when you're happy, so if the house needs to be packed with pumpkins and fairylights and shit, okay. Don't expect him to really participate in it, and don't bring rotting leaves into the house. Real pumpkins are for eating or outside.

The other reason he doesn't really care is that Jimmy spends most days outdoors for work and whatnot. He sorta just...sees autumn the whole time it's autumn, and that is enough for him.

*Most Into Halloween Decor--Jake Jensen

If you were wondering why I didn't mention Jake earlier it's because he is miles above Curtis's enthusiasm for one specific thing: spooky shit.

Jake isn't afraid to go all-out. He will make the entire house, the yard, the gd neighborhood if they let him, into a haunted experience. This is, unfortunately, to the point where you have slipped on fake blood before and bruised your tailbone. Jake is now limited to the week of Halloween itself for the more dangerous accoutrements like liquids and sharp blades. Knives and weapons stay in shadowboxes or cabinets otherwise.

No, he will not be taking questions about why they aren't the fake, safe kinds. Just let him have this.

**I don't have a name for the superlative that Lloyd Hansen wins but he is the most obsessed with curating *his look* seasonally.

Yes, I even mean more so than our sweater boi Ransom...

Lloyd is also the man who flips the fuck out if a room or the yard is littered with stuff to decorate. If it's a mess (even for a little while) he thinks it all looks trashy and can't stand that, so you gotta be kinda stealth or methodical about doing it.

Most Into DIY Decor--Ari Levinson

Project? Did someone say project???? Ari's there, tools ready, let's go.

Ari's the man who has a shed or garage full of stuff for all occasions. Sure, there are a lot of power tools and mechanic things, but he's also kept track of all the art supplies, cleaned up that hot-glue gun and twist-tied the cord nicely, and sorted everything into bins or some of the drawers in his shelves. Nails and screws for all sorts. Wall anchors if necessary. He keeps a stash of those papertowel rolls for kids projects. Tissue paper and bags for gift wrapping. He doesn't go so far as to color-code it or anything, but it's grouped together and neatly stowed away. He is always willing to participate in building something new, even if it's silly little paper things.

Most Into Autumn Activities--Steve Rogers

I don't think Steve has any issue with early sprucing for the season, but he is definitely planning where the apple-picking and pumpkin patches are and when to go. There may be fourteen different hay rides and corn mazes to get through, but don't worry, he's got a schedule! He's rewashed the thermoses for hot cocoa at the ready. He bought another stack of pie tins just in case. He printed off several new recipes to try this year, and the ones from last year have hand-written notes in the margins of what to adjust this time. So, yup, hang onto your butts because it's gonna get real busy in a few weeks...

Thank you for asking!

Damnit, these are so amazingly fun. Keep 'em coming!!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would...Asks; Ko-Fi]

[lomlsatoru]

༊*·˚ secret | reggie

request : the reader is alex's sister, she died, she's secretly dating reggie bc alex wouldn't have allowed it. he finds you guys making out one day and just has whole fit. forbids you to date any longer, then you are just sad and depressed for a couple of weeks. he sees that and allows you to date. you run up to reggie and just kiss him. alex is there like none of that on my watch, pg13 people. then you get matching jackets with reggie.

warning : ANGST, make-out, protective alex, heartbreak, but ends with fluff <3

── ⋆⋅☆ main masterlist

  YOUR CHEST WAS FLUSHED AGAINST HIS, lips moulding together, synchronising perfectly as desire shots through your veins.

You honestly don't even remember how you guys got into this position. First you were watching the band practice and the next second they said they were going to get something to eat and left, your back was slammed against the wall and your boyfriend's lips devouring yours.

"Reg-" you softly broke off the intense make out. "We're gonna get caught."

Reggie whined, at the loss of contact. "They're getting food, they would be back in like 30 minutes, tops." he said all too quickly and continued to kiss you, his hand safely planted themselves on your waist. Your hands tugged his perfect hair.

You were going to object but his lips are too intoxicating, you could kiss him for hours and hours.

Reggie lips trailed down to your neck, kissing so softly as you were made of glass. He made it his personal mission to make every inch of you feel loved.

And he did. Every. Single. Time.

You guys were so wrapped up with each other they didn't even hear the garage door opening up.

"Hey, I just forgot- What the hell?"

And the once comfortable scenery turned upside down.

You and Reggie scrambled away from each other, as you looked up at your brother's fuming figure.

"Alex, man I can explain-" Reggie stated calmly and started to move towards him.

Alex scoffed bitterly, "What? That you're probably hooking up with my sister behind my back?!" he snapped.

"Well-"

"REG!" your eyes widen and you hit Reggie's shoulder in the process.

"Yeah this is not gonna happen." Alex sternly said, motioning to the two of you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, although you know damn well what he's talking about, "What?" you mumbled.

"THIS. Whatever this is, it can't happen!" Alex exclaimed. The thought of his baby sister dating his best friend made his stomach churn.

You scoffed in disbelief, crossing your arms across your chest. "No offence Alex, but you can't just control my life."

"And you can't date my best friend!" Alex yelled clearly infuriated.

"May I ask why?" you raised your eyebrows challenging him.

Reggie was looking at the both of you back and forth in the sidelines. His mind raked over all the possibilities, and it broke him to know that this is his fault.

Alex's arms moved around in the air crazily, "You just can't! That's like a rule! And Reggie comes one man, my sister?" Alex continued, as he turned his head to look at his best friend.

Reggie shrugged his shoulders, "Well, yeah. Have you seen her?" he said, looking at you fondly.

You almost pout in awe but the situation in hand was so annoying, it stopped you from doing so.

"This is never going to happen at the end of discussion." Alex said sternly as he land his hands on his hips.

Your eyes widen, jaw clenching and unclenching, "But-"

"y/n go back home." Alex avoided all eye contact with you, as he said it.

"Alex, are you serious?" Reggie asked, his voice broke a little at the end almost like his heart.

"I'm dead serious."

! time skip brought to you by the freaking hot dogs ¡

It has been exactly one week and two days since that happened. You and Reggie stopped talking, you honestly stopped talking to everyone. You just didn't want to talk to anyone, especially Alex. You guys don't even act like siblings anymore.

One person that you would talk to is Julie, seeing that you're crashing in her room, you can't just ignore her. Julie is an amazing listener and an even better friend.

She would always ask if you were okay, always made time for your rant, just always being there for you.

When she would practise with the band you would stay in her room and just isolate yourself from the world.

Alex, of course noticing your behaviour felt guilty. He has sworn to never let anyone hurt you, but in the end he's the one that did it.

Not only that, he and Reggie's friendship has been awkward and tense, resulting in the band all being awkward and tense.

Reggie wouldn't focus, he would get the chords or lyrics wrong and he just looks like he's absolutely lost.

He's definitely lost without you.

You guys are lost without each other.

So with a little convincing from Luke and Julie, Alex decided that he would fix this.

You were in Julie's room cleaning up her closet which is definitely not dirty, you just keep unfolding and folding back her clothes, that's just how bored you were. Then suddenly there was a knock.

"Who is it?" you asked tiredly. You have a good idea who it was because if it was human they wouldn't probably knock seeing that Julie and Carlos are at school and Ray is working.

Alex swallowed his nerves as he softly said, "It's Alex. Can I come in?"

You sighed and thought about it for a few moments. Did you want to let him in?

When Alex got nothing but silence he reserved another solution. "Marco."

A small smile made its way to your lips, "Polo."

As kids, you and Alex would play Marco Polo non-stop, even when you guys are not in a pool. It honestly weirded people out seeing two kids telling 'marco' and 'polo' at the park searching for each other like lost ducks.

"Yeah, you can come in." you softly said, putting the last clothes in Julie's closet.

Alex did a little victory dance before coming through the door and immediately tackled you in a hug.

"I'm sorry." he muttered sadly.

"For what?" you asked, you don't just want an 'I'm sorry', you want a why.

"For overreacting about you and Reggie. I have come to the conclusion, that you can date my best friend if-"

You didn't even want to hear what he was going to say as you quickly poofed to the garage and were met with the face that you missed so much.

"y/n?" Reggie couldn't believe his eyes as you stood mere feet in front of him, still looking gorgeous as ever.

You sighed in relief and sprinted towards him, launching yourself in his arms and nuzzling your head in his neck. Nose grazing his neck making shivers appear all over his body.

He's holding onto you so tight as if he's afraid you would disappear. Reggie's heart felt full again, he felt happy finally having his girl back in his arms.

You guys pulled away and Reggie didn't waste any time cupping your face and connecting your lips together. Fireworks blew, butterflies flew, everything was perfect.

Alex poofed back after a few minutes and saw the sight, the poor guy is having deja vu. "Okay, okay, okay, if we're gonna do this then no making out in front of me. Let's make it pg-13 yeah?" he moved towards you guys, pulling the pair away from each other.

You and Reggie laughed at your brother's antics before Reggie remembered something.

"Oh wait, y/n I bought something for you!" he excitedly said, moving beside the couch to grab the item.

"What?" you asked in amusement at his frantic searches. You missed him so much.

"Aha!" His eyes brightened when he found what he was looking for. He made his way back to you, "Look! We have matching jackets!"

"Oh my god really?" you asked, as your voice went a few pitches higher because of excitement.

Your heart flutters in your chest, as you took it from Reggie's hand. Staring at the piece of clothing with heart eyes. "I love it."

Reggie felt his heart thump faster when you looked up at him with soft eyes.

"And I love you." he breathed out with full meaning and emotion.

It definitely was not a secret that you guys were totally head over heels for each other.

reblog for a kiss! 💋

[2danny2furious]

hi! I really loved your headcanons! could i request a fluffy oneshot with y/n and the other commentary youtubers (drew, jarvis, kurtis, etc.) maybe they could be playing a game or minecraft or go on a group vacation? totally no worries if this isn't your style and thanks in advance!

This was so much fun to write! Hope you like it!

Title: Love and War

Pairing: Danny Gonzalez x Reader

The sun beats down on your shoulder. You are crouched behind the bushes- tired, sweaty, and just about ready to give up. But you know the stakes are high: this is war. 

You peer over the leaves, assessing the battlefield. 

“Pool area is clear. Over.” 

“That’s what daddy likes to hear. Over.” 

“Jesus Christ!” Drew groans into his walkie-talkie. “Can you please stop constantly referring to yourself as daddy?” 

“No,” crackles Danny’s voice. You can hear the smile in his words. “Over.”

The commentary boys had recently received an obscene amount of Nerf guns as part of Nerf’s latest sponsorship campaign. Now that everyone has been reunited at an AirBnB mansion for Vidcon, all Danny wants to do is battle the other guys in nerf wars. Coincidentally, for the past three wars, the chosen opponents have been The Sad Boyz and Kurtis. 

You suspect this is because Danny had caught you hearting a message from your best friend, emphatically claiming Jordan as the sexiest man she’s ever seen. Oh, boys.  

“Y/N!” shrieks Amanda, “there’s an ambush headed your way!” 

You leap up, wobbling as you brush away twigs pressed into your legs and your feet regain feeling. You whip your head towards the fence. 

You can hear Kurtis calling, “We’re coming to get youuuuu,” in quite possibly the creepiest voice you’ve ever heard, and Jarvis and Jordan giggling as the three approach. 

They’re getting closer and closer by the second. But where to go? They’re  coming from the back fence, and the gate is locked from the north side. 

“Guys, I’m trapped and out of ammo! I’m gonna die I’m gonna die I’m gon-” 

“Y/N, we got you”, Drew’s calm voice soothes you over the walkie-talkie. “Danny’s on his way.” 

“Babe, this way!”

You follow Danny’s voice to the north gate. You can hear the enemy approaching, and fear grips your heart. 

“Danny, hurry!”

After what feels like an eternity, the gate door swings open. There he stands, your tall prince in shining-dripping-with-sweat white tee shirt armor. His green eyes, pale in the sunlight, crackle with excitement. 

“You didn’t think I’d lose my girl to those diabolical cretins did you?” 

You hold back a smirk at his ever insane vocabulary as he grabs your hand, hurrying you around the house and through the garage.  

“Whew! That was close,” you giggle. You take a moment to admire Danny’s toned biceps and flushed cheeks as he pulls down the garage door, the back of his shirt clinging to the curves in his muscular back.  You mentally take back every complaint you’ve ever had about his long runs and never ending gym sessions.

 “You pervert,” he chuckles, wiping sweat from his hair.  

“The damsel is safe,” he reports into his walkie-talkie. “I have her in an undisclosed location. Over.” He looks over at you with a wink. You grin and roll your eyes. 

Danny walks over to you and hugs you from behind, wrapping you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. You let yourself relax in his warm embrace, and can’t help but marvel at how perfectly your bodies fit together. He sighs into your hair and squeezes you extra hard. 

“It’s been so great seeing the guys, but I can’t fucking wait to go home. I miss having you all to myself,” he says. His voice is low and quiet, heavy with a desire you recognize instantly. 

“Hmm... me too,” you hum. “You’re always getting us into situations like this though, you god damn extrovert.” 

“Touché,” he murmurs. He spins you around to face him, and kisses you with a softness that surprises you. His warm lips find yours again and again, his hands cupping your cheeks..

“GUYS”, your walkie-talkies crackle loudly with the sound of Amanda’s voice, causing both of you to jump. “The Sad Boyz have disappeared from the pool vicinity-we think they might have advanced into the house. Team meeting under the deck, stat. Over.” 

“Fuck you, Amanda,” curses Danny. “I was just about to start an amazing make out sess-”

“No one cares, Danny. Y/N’s too hot for you anyway. Over.” 

“It’s true, Amanda. So true. Over,” you giggle as Danny bites your shoulder in play anger, wrestling your body closer to him as you squeal and try to escape. 

Your team assembles under the deck to load up on ammo and get your bearings straight. Drew devises a plan, his calm demeanor prevailing even in the most dire nerf war situations. You plan to station yourselves at all sides of the house, so that the enemy would have no chance of escaping. Danny, to no one’s surprise, insisted that he be stationed by you to protect you. 

“I was so close to losing you last time,” he says, looking into your eyes. “I’m never letting that happen again. You could have died.” 

“Danny,” sighs Drew. “They’re foam bulle-” 

“She could have DIED, Drew, you think this is a joke?”  

Drew can’t help but grin, shaking his head. “Alright, you losers, come on. We got a battle to win.” 

Drew and Amanda creep into the house silently, and you and Danny position yourselves behind the grand couches in the mansion. As you wait, he makes faces at you from across the living room, trying to get you to laugh. 

Suddenly, you hear a noise in the hallway. You and Danny hesitantly arise from behind the couches, creeping forward to point your nerf guns towards the sound. Kiwi, the poodle, emerges from the hall, peering up innocently as he wags his tail happily. 

But why would Kurtis’s dog be here? you think. 

“Babe, look out!” 

You look up to see Jordan and Jarvis standing across the room from you, grinning madly and pointing their nerf guns at your chest. You raise your gun, and as you do, feel something soft poke the back of your head. Kurtis.  

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the stream of foam. 

“NOOOOO!” Danny screams. You open your eyes to see Danny leap in front of you as Jordan and Jarvis open fire. You quickly spin to shoot Kurtis in the chest before he can react. 

His jaw falls open in shock. “The citizens of Kurtistwon will have their revenge,” he seethes. “Mark my words.” 

You don’t even have time to revel in your glory, because Jarvis and Jordan aren’t content with their kill; they savagely empty their magazines into Danny’s still body on the floor, every foam bullet mercilessly striking his body instead of yours. 

When the assault is done, Danny’s eyes flicker open and shut, his chest heaving as he pretends to struggle for air. 

“D-D-Danny,” you sob. You kneel down to the floor, next to your boyfriend’s spasming body.  Using every last drop of self control to keep yourself from smiling, you whisper desperately, “Why? Why did you do it, you stupid boy?” 

“I had to s-save you,” he coughs as he chokes back a laugh.

“Danny, no! Don’t leave me!” you cry, bringing his limp hand up to your cheek, pressing a kiss softly into his fingers. 

“I…I’ll always love you Y/N.” 

And with that, Danny’s head lolls lifelessly to the side. The sight of his eyes crossed goofily and his tongue sticking out is enough to break you, and you burst out in a fit of giggles. Danny’s lips began to twitch and pretty soon he’s cackling too, the two of you clutching your sides, howling with laughter as your friends decide to unite and open fire against these two idiots on the floor. :)

[dr-trafalgar-law]

Trafalgar Law X CisFem Reader

4

A grin spread across the freckled man's face as he met your shocked gaze.

"No way, F/N what are you doing here?!" he stepped further into the house, "wait...what are you doing here?"

The woman accompanying him shyly gripped his coat and hid. You imagined she was embarrassed from getting caught sneaking around. She was petite but curvy with a flawless tan complexion. You actually felt she complimented Ace perfectly.

"I'm not sure of that myself." You replied pushing yourself away from the counter.

"We're just here talking, yoi." Marco added.

"Seems like sneaking around." the raven accused.

You snorted shaking your head.

"Look who's talking," Marco muttered.

"Hey! At least I'm with my match." Ace gestured toward the empty space next to him.

Whirling around he found her huddled against his back.

"By the way, this is Al, my fiancé." he tugged her forward, "This is F/N and well, you know Marco."

Brushing her dark brown hair from her face and raising her chestnut gaze, a small smile ghosting her heart-shaped lips, she reached for your hand.

"They talk about you a lot."

"All good things I'm sure," you smirked shaking her hand, "this really isn't whatever it looks like. Nice to meet you and sorry for ruining your plans Freckles. I gotta get outta here."

"Wait!" Marco called following you to the back door, "we weren't done talking."

"Weren't we?" you snorted turning, "this is none of my business."

"Why'd you even come, yoi?" he took you by the wrist, the pleading look on his face was damn near soul-crushing.

"Because... I'm weak and stupid." you pried his fingers away and swung the door open.

"Stupid stupid stupid," you muttered throwing yourself into the car and quickly turning the ignition.

Marco remained at the back-door arms crossed over his chest, watching you peel out of the gravel circle drive. What the hell did you think was going to happen? After all this time had passed you'd finally made two steps forward only to immediately take five steps back. To top it with having Ace walk in on you, even though nothing was happening, given your history it couldn't have looked right.

F/N, you colossal idiot.

A relieved sigh left your lips as you pulled into the parking garage to find Law's car still gone from its assigned place. You just wanted to head upstairs and go to bed.

It was just after 5 AM when you crawled back into your blankets still wearing the shirt you'd left the house in. Just as you got settled your phone went off on the nightstand.

MN: please pick a time when we can continue this conversation.

Me: there is no time. Talk to your brothers about this.

Me: I just can't do it.

MN: they think I should just go with it. its a lot of red tape to get through for a divorce.

MN: but proving infidelity would give me a strong case

Me: you know when that kid comes out with your pineapple head you're gonna feel real bad about all of this

MN: you're not funny

Me: I'm not trying to be

Me: now if you'll excuse me I have a previous engagement with my pillows

MN: good night

What a frustrating man. The only thing you could do was prove his infidelity, had he forgotten about that? You certainly hadn't. Your mind drifted to the last night you'd spent with Marco, thrown over your desk in one last fit of passion. His desperate kisses, the way he said your name, the tingling heat of his touch on bare skin, it made your insides squeeze.

Before you could act on any memory fueled naughty thoughts a quick knock rattled your bedroom door.

"F/N-ya," Law called softly, "May I come in?"

"Uh, yeah it's open." You sat up.

The door slowly opened, immediately you noticed his shirt – it was a light blue with a bunny in an anime style on the front. Your gaze trailed up to his face, exhausted circles lined his eyes as usual but this time darker calling attention to how red and irritated they looked.

Had he been crying?

Surely it was just a side effect of being sleep deprived, he'd just worked a twenty-hour hour shift after all. Law quietly stepped into the room and took a seat at the foot of your bed.

"You weren't wearing that yesterday, were you? I think I'd remember if you were walking around in that otaku shirt." you tried to joke feeling some tension begin to mount.

"I had to borrow it from a co-worker." he replied tugging at the material, "A bad accident came through the emergency room and they bled through my scrubs."

"We should soak them."

"I threw them away." he ran both hands over his face lying back on your bed.

Sitting forward and crossing your legs you reached forward and gently combed through his hair.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"There are a lot of things I'm prepared for," he spoke into his palms, "this ... this kid had been ejected through the windshield. I don't normally do pediatrics, but you know, we were short staffed and so many people were involved it was sort of an 'all-hands-on-deck' situation."

Listening to the stress in his voice as he kept his face covered you continued to stroke his messy hair hoping that somehow would bring him some comfort.

"She was a mess, it was hard to tell what was missing if anything," He paused, "and so much time had already passed." 

You had a feeling you knew where this was going and scooted down to lie beside him. He remained quiet listening to you shift in the bed.

There was a reason he didn't work in the children's wing of the hospital, unbeknownst to you. This poor girl's injuries were mostly preventable, and her parents would get to live with the guilt of not making sure she was buckled into her seat. It just didn't seem fair that she had to pay for it and that pissed him off.

Finally, his hands slipped away from his tired seemingly emotionless face, silver eyes swayed in your direction before he rolled into your side. It was normal to seek comfort in your partner, right?

You stiffly moved to accommodate him in your arms.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that. Let's just try to sleep." you rubbed soothing circles over his back.

Law's arms coiled around you as he buried his face in your shoulder and sighed.

Something was off.

This scent lingering on your shirt and hair, it was familiar, but he knew it wasn't yours.

"F/N, where have you been?" 

[gggreengoblin]

702 words, inspired by this, After a brief and weird interaction with a ceritain American comedian, Daniel came to his best friend's room to vent.

Daniel had experienced a lot of weird days in his life, nothing new. But his interaction with an American comedian today was an out-of-body experience. Man, that person was a strange creature. Daniel knew he would say some of the most unhinged, out-of-the-box, bizarre things but nothing had prepared him for one-on-one interaction with that man.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. How it went down quickly. He kept replaying that interaction in his head. During his shower, while he was eating his dinner, when he walked to Max's room.

When Max opened his door, he was just wearing his jeans, unbuttoned and unzipped. His hair was still wet from his quick shower.

He entered the room and lied down on Max's unmade bed. "Isn't it weird that people still think we are dating?"

"Are they still doing that?" Max said while applying his deodorant. "I thought that rumor died years ago."

"Apparently they still do that, Maxy." Daniel couldn't help himself to not take a deep breath when Max sprayed his perfume on his skin slightly damp skin. He loved this smell, clean, aquatic, and refreshing. He wanted to buy this perfume, bottles of them, and hide them in his secret drawer under his bed. It is weird if you want to sniff your best friend's perfume all the time, right?

"Listen, you know today, before the race, Theo Von visited your garage, right?"

"Yeah."

"I met him, for PR stuff. I told him that we went to his show and he said wild things about it. I told him we made an agreement to watch his show together."

"Right." Max nodded. Making sure Daniel knew that he was still listening even when he did something else. He needed to get ready for their post-race party after all.

"And in February, I was in LA and you had a weekend off. You went from Monaco to LA, picked me up, and we flew to New Jersey to watch his show."

"What did he say exactly?" Max chose to wear an ocean blue crewneck sweatshirt. It fitted him perfectly.

"At first he was like, 'Bro, you made your boyfriend fly from Europe to America just to have a comedy night date at my show? Damn! You need to up your game, My dude.'"

"And I said, 'No, we are not dating. We are best friends.'"

"He looked me dead in the eyes and said that it was a 'unique' agreement and men don't fly with their best friend to watch a comedy show together."

"And when I tried to clear things up, like- gave him more context, he said, 'Woah! Daddy! This sounds like homoerotic, Brother, to be honest with you. I am not judging you. It's super obvious you are a gay man, if you are not, then you're surprising a lot of people', you know, because apparently a lot of people think we are a gay couple."

"Fuck that, Daniel. He doesn't know us enough to have an opinion on our friendship." He combed his brown hair into his usual side part classic quiff. "And nothing wrong with me taking you on a date."

"Was it a date, Max?"

"Well- Would you take a long plane ride from LA to Europe just to take, maybe- Lando for example, to a comedy show?"

Daniel tried to imagine that scenario. "Nah, I don't think I would do that. But I will do it for you, though."

"It can be a date if you want it to be. Girls take their best friends out on a date all the time. Why can't guys do the same thing?"

Well, that was kind of true. Why he and Max couldn't do that? They loved each other's company, and no one got hurt because of it, so where was the problem?

"And, of course, we go out for dinners, at least once a week if we are in the same city," Max said.

"Wait, does it mean we are dating if we go on dates and dinners all the time?"

He lied down, on his side, next to Daniel. Putting his newly styled hair on a pillow. "If you want us to be, then yes."

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - A story of a Boy - Part Two

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

We bought a house.

Well he did.

Okay, he put an offer in which is only the first step.

But still.

Damn.

A house.

A beautiful house.

I've never lived anywhere that nice and neither has anyone I know.

Except these fools and these are fools I like.

Peter is a great boss and has a dry wit that cracks me up.

Tristan is just... effervescent.

It's the only way I can describe him.

Learning that he went to some fancy law school and comes from a family just as rich as Finnegan's was a huge shock to me.

"Emmett?"

I look over the deck railing and down at Finnegan who is riding in the unicorn. 

Not that way. 

The unicorn horn needs to make a reappearance. 

Yes it does. 

"Yes?"

"Can we talk for a sec?"

Peter just smiles and I head down.

"What is it babe?"

I'm squatting on the edge of the pool and then decide that it's much easier to get in.

I jump, splashing him.

"Emmett, I'm wet."

I just laugh because he's in a pool.

Yes, yes he is wet.

"I sort of did a thing and I didn't think it through so if it affects you or bothers you, I'm really sorry."

What could he possibly have done in the past five minutes?

Bought a second house?

Maybe Tristan had a boat to sell him?

"I'm sure it's fine. What is it, munchkin?"

He giggles.

"Munchkin. I like it."

"So do I."

It's new but fits him perfectly.

"So what is it?"

He crooks his finger and waits until I'm right next to him to whisper...

"I told Tristan that I'm a Little."

No way.

I'm floored, seriously.

This is a guy who six months ago didn't even know what one was.

"I'm so proud of you, darling."

That's it, he's coming off the float.

I grab him and pull him into my arms so I can kiss him.

Then I worry.

"Was he mean about it? Do you need to go home?"

Maybe I shouldn't have gotten in.

"No, no he's great. I just, well, so he knows you're my Dom and he asked if he could tell Peter because Tristan isn't good at keeping his thoughts to himself and I worried about your job."

That's what's worrying him?

"Peter?" I yell.

"Yeah?"

"Finnegan is a 'Little' and I'm his 'Dom'."

He tilts his head, then nods.

"Sweet."

Finnegan's eyes are wide but I reassure him with a kiss.

He let's me hold him for a second before admonishing me.

"I can't believe you did that."

Really?

"I didn't do anything. You did the hard part, you were honest about 'Little Finn' and I'm proud of you."

And here I thought buying a house would be the biggest thing to happen today.

"Can I come in yet? It's hot..." Tristan whines from the other side of the pool.

"Of course, get in here."

I want to do laps but I think with the head wound I'll hop out and rest for a few minutes.

It'll make Finnegan happy and give those two some time to talk and work things out.

Peter comes down, gets us each a bottle of water and sits down next to me.

"I'm gonna take some time off this fall, close the garage. I'll pay you, don't worry about that but Tristan and I are going to Oklahoma for my family reunion."

"You can't pay me if I'm not working."

"Yes I can. Paid you a full week this week, too. We'll probably shut down the middle of next month and open back up mid October. Sounds like you guys might be moving so it could work out well, timing wise, for you. If you need some time before then just let me know. Moving is a mess and I'm glad I'm done with it."

He's right about all of it.

I could definitely use some time off because Finnegan will still be crazy busy and I have an entire house to pack up.

Plus getting utilities switched and a new place ready takes a lot more work than it seems like it should.

And then it hits me, that's when the photography course is.

I can do it.

I can do the photography course and by this time next year I'll have the darkroom.

I'm a little bit overwhelmed.

"Thank you," I mumble because I have to say something.

"It's crazy nice of you but yeah, there's actually this photography course I got accepted into and it's then, during that time frame. I wasn't going to do it, can't miss two weeks pay but..."

"Emmett, do you need a raise?"

He already pays me more than most and a lot more than I made at my last job.

"No, no."

"Cause I'd hate to lose you. If you need some help, some time, whatever, just say so. Okay?"

I've always taken pride in being able to handle my own shit and take care of myself but maybe I'd do a much better job if I could learn to accept some help.

It's a lesson it seems like I have to learn to be with Finnegan and a water balloon hits my stomach and there are shouts.

I assumed it was Finnegan but Tristan is lobbing them too and apparently they are on a team.

"Fucking white people," Peter mumbles and I die.

Literally die.

I can not stop laughing.

"What is it, Emmett?" Finnegan asks.

"Nothing, munchkin."

It's nothing I'm going to tell him, anyway.

"I'm white too," I manage to get out between sucking in air. 

Mostly, anyway. 

My great, great grandmother or something like that was actually Black. 

Married some Irish dude and her kids passed, at least that's the family story.

"Yeah but at least you tan. Cover me. I'll get the hose."

This is gonna be fun.

[venusscore]

Writers Idea!

Got this idea the other day and might use it later, but I also need to practice writing, too.

(I also just found it really cute.)

So imagine a girl who's like 5'3. She comes from some rich family and looks like it, too. She's pretty, and very intelligent. (We'll call her X in this equation)

Next is a guy who's 6'3. Whole foot difference. He's only a year or two older than her, but looks like he's experienced way more. He had been hired as a bodyguard for her. (He will be Y)

After a long morning of bickering between X and Y, they're both sitting on the lavish couch in X's big home. Pouting.

Suddenly, X stands up and announces:

"I'm goin' out."

"To?" Y looks up and questions.

"You'll see." Replies X, knowing damn well he'll follow her.

Y groans and stands up before standing in front of the door.

"You're safer here."

"You don't know that." She replies in a irritated tone.

"I just know you suggested it. Already a bad sign." He says, half teasing and half insultingly.

"Well, you're not allowed to lay a finger on me, remember? That's the rule my father set up." She reminds him.

"I'm well aware, but I can still stand here."

She rolls her eyes at him and proceeds to walk to the window which stands accross from the couch.

"What're you doing?" Y asks.

"Gettin' outta this place." X grumbles as she climbs out the window, to Y's dismay.

"X, what the fuck!?" He exclaims while running to the window.

There she is, red heels and all, walking across the grass yard to the garage the size of Y's house.

He quickly climbs out and runs after her, being careful to not step on the red geraniums that he heard from her father she takes every morning and night to carefully keep well watered and pretty.

"Why are you so desperate to exit this house? Its a mansion with every electronic known to man." Y asks in the most bitchy tone he could conjure up.

"I'm not a fucking hermit, Y. I can have a social life." X replies just as bitchy.

They both walk ib the garage and navigate through the sea of cars. Some old and vintage, others new and high-tech. It all made Y's blood boil.

Soon, they get to a red Bug-Car. It has brown leather seats with a ladybug charm hanging from the rearview mirror.

X unlocks it and climbs in the drivers seat. The small car fit so perfectly with her 5'3 frame.

Then Y gets in the passengers seat, immediately hitting his head on the roof of the car, making X laugh.

"Tall ass!" She exclaims.

He shoots her such a nasty glare that she almost rethinks her words. Almost.

Y lowers his seat with the adjuster and eventually settles in.

They take off down the road.

----------------------------------------

X turns on the radio and switches to "The Beatles" radio.

Y notices her tapping her finger to the beat of each song, never missing a note. Then the song "Yesterday" comes on.

X hums along to it, even mumbling some lyrics under her breath. Her voice was nice. Not something you'd hear on the radio, but it still could make for a nice lullaby.

Y starts humming with her, and before they know it, they're both singing along quietly. It was the first time they both coexisted with each other that day.

"Oh, I believe-- in yesterday..."

The song plays, before the singers end it in a hum.

X and Y hum along, going a few seconds longer than the song and looking at each other as soon as they catch their mistake.

They lock eyes for a second and stop humming, then turn away quickly.

"We're almost there.." X mumbles, but Y isn't paying attention.

'This is one hell of a first day.' He thinks before the next song comes on.

(Thanks for reading! This is my first story, so feel free to leave advice! Also, please listen to Yesterday by The Beatles! I love that song, and it'll help you understand the end because I had trouble writing.)