#honda beat street
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Honda Beat
#Honda Beat#modified#stance#tuning#retro rides#tuner#slammed#street#imports#lowered#jdm#fitment#static#kyusha#shakotan#type r#kei car#roadster#convertible#rhd
871 notes
·
View notes
Text
#TRYNA FUCK ME I'M LIKE OKAY! g. suguru
☆ sum. suguru geto wasn’t used to losing a race, especially to a fucking rookie—but you’ve got him confused, intrigued, and… hard? long story short, ever since he hit it he���s never been the same.
wc. 6.8k
warnings. fem! reader, street racer! geto, pwp, unprotected, 2 fast 2 furious references, bratty reader, rivals to lovers ( ? ), geto has a dīck piercing, big size kink, riding, he fucks you on the hood of your car, cunnīlingus, sore loser geto gets humbled lel, overstim, squīrting, dirty talk, praise, petnames.
an. chase atlantic inspired me again </3 same au as this one.
second fucking place. he got second place and he lost to you, a newbie—the newest racer with the prettiest trendy wheels, flashy rims, and a hot pink 2001 honda s2000. stupid, stupid, the reality of losing left a sour taste in geto’s mouth. he can’t remember the last time he’s lost, ever. .
the moment he saw your car bolt in front of him at those last few milliseconds of the race with fiery pink smoke coughing from your steel pipes dusting near his front window, he just knew he lost to you. geto scoffs. “tch,” he’d mumble, slamming his car door shut, and releasing the straps of his custom-made helmet. you leaned against your slick hood, innocently fanning yourself with a pamphlet of the track’s course layout that was given to every racer before glancing at geto. he was quite tall and he looked down at you with a look of intrigue and bitter annoyance. “cheater.”
“excuse me?” you raise a brow. you knew damn well who he was, suguru geto—one of the if not the best street racer in tokyo. notorious for his wins and extremly cocky ego - except this time, your win against him bruised that little detail a bit. a small grin spreads across your glossed lips before your eyes rove up and down his dark leather ripped clothes. “you said somethin’?”
“you heard me, sweetheart,” he utters, bringing a gloved hand up to his face. doing so, geto tucks his sticky black tresses back inside his helmet. he’s so close, that he practically has you cornered against the hot hood of your car and his eyes stare at the medal that’s pinned near the left side of your chest. that gold medal that was supposed to be his. “besides,” and you nearly gasped once you felt your rear tap against the front of your vehicle. “your ‘riding’ could use a ‘lil work, rookie.”
you saw the look in his eyes. he’s challenging you, geto sees you as a potential threat and he wasn’t fond of losing.. ever.
it just wasn’t in his vocabulary.
you don’t know why but beating one of tokyo’s top street racers made cocky pride swell right up in your chest. the same kind of cocky pride that he was used to, and damn were you a force to be reckoned with. he just had to learn that the hard way.
“do i?” you reply, reaching an arm inside of your car to twist the keys out of the ignition. with a roaring sputtering growl, your engine gradually turns off and the sounds of whirring wind fill the air.
geto’s got his hands buried in his pockets as his tall lean body stands still. he’s checking you out.
his head slightly tilts to the side with his helmet cracked open and you can feel his eyes trailing up your entire physique.
he’s studying you - trying to figure out just who this pretty girl that just dusted him in a race.
you’d be lying through your teeth if you didn’t idolize him just a little bit. he was well known not just in tokyo but worldwide. the fangirls loved him, and the racers despised him with envy.
beating the suguru geto was a rare fever dream of itself.
“or are you just upset you’re not in the spotlight for once?” brat.. though your comment made him scoff with a sly smile curling against his thin lips.
“mm. for a new racer you sure have a smart mouth,” and his eyes quickly dash toward your car.
hot pink, it even looked freshly new and painted. and just to put the icing on the cake, it also has a pretty character design painted near the sides with the addition of a cheetah print wheel.
he lost to . . that?
geto’s quietly admiring your ride though—it looked like it was straight out of a movie. once he looks down at you again, he speaks in a gruff intimidated tone, finishing his sentence. “it’s only your first win, don’t be cocky.”
“i’ll be cocky if i want,” you murmur, and there’s a loud competitive tension between you both.
people started to leave the car meeting spot until it was just the two of you. your car’s parked near one of the garages where geto’s car was coincidentally parked also. you’re still leaning against the pink hood of your car before walking up to him. you close the awkward distance between you both, being just a few inches apart.
you’re bold, and he liked your spunk although he’d never flat-out admit it.
just . . . who were you?
geto didn’t like losing—that’s already been established. but now, he’s starting to realize he probably has to deal with you in future races, and oh- he knew you were gonna be a problem.
and he was right, because perhaps he’d finally met his match.
“besides, even if i did cheat,” you retaliate, your tone sounding more and more coy and foxy. playfully, your arms wrap around his shoulders and you tap against his sheer black helmet that had ‘s. geto’ autographed in bold purple near the other shell. vexed, mousy eyes glare at you through the protective gear and you lean up all the way close. “what are you gonna do about it, suguru?”
famous last words,
because one moment you’re being nothing but a mere brat and the next, you found yourself bent over the hood of your pretty blush-colored honda.
well, fuck.
suguru geto didn’t take disrespect lightly . . although, he liked the brat in you. a nice change of pace, even though it pissed him off a bit - a lot.
“s- shit,” you gasp, feeling your thighs squeeze together. geto’s domineering aura sends you chills, the kind of chills where it runs through your entire soul.
he’s so close that you could almost taste his loud cologne on your tongue. it’s a manly scent, you’d probably guess one of the main ingredients was oak moss. as you’re pondering deep in thought, still trying to get over his loud smell—a hand gingerly starts to brush down your skimpy lace-up chaps.
his touch felt good. . and sure, maybe you’ve fantasized about this exact moment once or twice while watching his races broadcasted on live television. geto’s pressed up against you as you’re idly hunched over, biting your lip. with a huff, you’re so close to your tinted window that you were practically having a staring contest with your rosy windshield wipers. “aw. you planned to spank me over my car?”
“not exactly, pretty girl,” he tsks with a clicked tongue, and that’s when you feel it. something poking against your rear — oh, he was hard.
it was something hard and you don’t quite think it was his helmet..
that couldn’t have been anything else other than a raging boner, and it makes you smugly hum. geto groans once he feels your ass wriggling against his skin-tight leather jeans. “think you’re funny, yeah girl?”
“a bit,” you utter in a breathy tone, feeling his fingers zig-zag down the exposed straps of clothing that reveal a bit of skin. you didn’t mind his touch - in fact, you only wanted more.
the inside of the garage was widely spacious—big enough to fit your car and geto’s iconic skyline gtr. it’s a gorgeous midnight dark purple that glimmers in the dead of night, akin to a raven’s wings.
with the garage lot being empty, it was just the two of you, the witching hour steadily approaching. all that could be heard was the occasional squawks and chirps of squaking birds and loud cars honking near the far distance by the freeway. as he’s still got you pinned over, you bite your pointer finger with a cheeky hum. “hilarious even.”
but, you don’t find anything funny moments later when the street racer’s tongue is shoved right between your splayed, plush thighs.
not at all, in fact- the only ‘words’ that came from your mouth were babbling inaudible whimpers, and he made sure you’d eat your sentences… just like he’s eating out your first place cunt like the starved man he was.
with widened eyes and a stretched jaw hanging open, you stare back with a hand on your ass, giving your skin a soft squeeze. geto grunts, on his knees as you’re hauled right over your pretty decorated hood.
hell! you figured he’d ask to rematch but this..
it seemed like all he wanted to do was take out his loss on your pussy… with his second-place tongue.
and that’s just what he does too.
not that you were even complaining—suguru geto was a nasty man to no one’s surprise. he’s nasty on the road and he’s even nastier with his tongue recklessly driving up and down your slobbering twitching cunt.
you feel a crooked nose sloooowly drag its way like a trail against your entrance. geto starts near the bottom and then makes his way up, making sure to have his button nose dripping with your mess. letting off a sweet whimper, it doesn’t take long before he’s starting sucking against your swollen clit.
“hng,” a needy whine dashes from your throat, and you can already feel a shaking judder spasm between your legs. geto’s unapologetically sloppy with his mouth too. as he’s repeatedly flicking the pointed pink tip of his tongue in crazed different directions, a throaty hiccup leaves from your glued lips. “fuuck, do you usually mhm--do this to your opponents who hah, beat you?”
“only the ones with the smart fuckin’ mouths,” he replies with a quickness, taking a moment to spit right on your sticky cunt. it’s a loud ‘ptui’ and it’s a filthy slimy trail that dribbles past his lips, polishing near the creasing crevices of his mouth.
a rubber-gloved hand snakes toward the crack of your pried open thighs and he spanks your pussy, causing a cute shrieking squeal to leave out your strained cords. “also, a reminder again. you didn’t beat me. i let you win. big difference.”
“s- sure,” you sheepishly moan, feeling vapid air circle around you both.
the night was eerily and silently dead—you swallowed thickly, praying no one would see you bent over your flashy pink hood getting eaten out by one of the most famous street racers in the world. although, the thought of getting caught made you throb in a way you didn’t think it would.
he’s mean with his tongue.
geto was competitive in everything he did, including with how he ate it.
your strapped pants were pulled down along with your panties lazily sticking toward the side of your feeble quaking thighs.
within minutes his jaw would angrily ache, growing slack and locking from how it was reaching soreness - but he didn’t care.
if he didn’t win his race, the least he could do was win by eating you out…right?
geto’s designer mauve-colored helmet probably costed thousands and rests near the side of him. he took it off before he started to feast himself between your sprawled legs.
through hazed doe-like peripherals, you stare at it and admire the designs that paint across his visor.
everywhere, there’s writing and designs—and again, you spot his famous autograph that’s nearly written near the side. typical, of course, he’d autograph his helmet.
he’s suguru fuckin’ geto.
regardless though, you’re still nothin’ but a whining mess though, and as he continues to eat you out, you let off a sweet ‘ooh!’ as soon as he bites near your pearly clit.
it’s soft and tender, but it still makes you babble out a sobbing moan. his teeth gently nibbled against your pussy . . . leisurely slithering his tongue between your flooding flaps.
so good, each time you hear the wet smacks from his lips, you can hear geto huskily groaning out satisfying ‘mmmh’ ‘s.
it’s a feeling that makes your legs stagger within the firm hold of his hands. geto’s still wearing his gloves and each time the stretchy rubber rubs onto your skin, you moan. “fuck, fuckk,” you whine, and he’s groaning right against your sobbing cunt. his hair’s pinned back into a high messy ponytail - a few ravened strands running down the sides of his face. pretty long lashes of his were closed as he was slurping you clean.
so damn sweet . . . he wonders why he’s never seen you on the track until now. well- you were new. maybe he has seen you, but geto’s never been one to pay attention.
either way, you were a meal he didn’t wanna stop tasting, ever.
and despite the bitter taste of defeat continuously lingering on his flat tongue even still . . your cunt sprinkled a bit of flavor to it, an aftertaste of vying rivalry . .
“mmph,” he grunts, feeling you push him further into your cunt with one hand. with a twist, you turn your torso just a bit to look down at him, bringing his face further. geto’s slick wet tongue slides across your nub before he’s sloppily thrusting it in and out of your weeping flowery entrance.
you whimper once he reaches that spot, feeling a sudden heave of a breath snatch its way out from your puffed lungs. geto’s dark brows amusingly knit together and he’s already nose deep—the hooking bridge that smears against your pussy makes you nearly wail out a needy weep.
he’s smearing his face everywhere, and wet splotches of your juices started to coat his clear face.
but he doesn’t mind - geto’s always been one to get a ‘lil dirty during a match.
two slack lips munch against your clit wholly before his lengthy tongue reaches toward your winking hole. “pff,” he clicks his tongue, letting off another husky groan once he feels the tint in his pants arises.
fuck, you made him hard—even more, now that he was eating you out.
the louder you were, the more his dick twitched underneath the rough fabric of his jeans. it’s almost painful- the way his hardened bulge prods its way against the leathery fabric makes him suck his teeth. he needs you.
geto’s lips remain glued against your cunt before he uses a gloved thumb to peel your pudgy sweltering folds apart just a biiiit more.
his tongue creates a downward slope that trickles its way below your clitoral hood that’s frantically throbbing right in his mouth.
ba dum, ba dum, ba dum. . .
pulse pulse pulse after fucking pulse,
a smoky chuckle echoed from his lips as his shoulders slightly shake and fuck- it vibrates against your pussy. “god, she’s a ‘lil crybaby isn’t she,” he breathlessly mumbles as his thumb peels your soaked flaps all the way down. he’s intently staring inside, studying all the pretty nerves and your twitching nub before spitting right inside yet again.
airy cold breath fans over your nude slit and you whimper, feeling his tongue douse itself back inside. “were you drivin’ around this wet the entire time, princess?” and you moan, feeling the rubber of his palm smear a few circles around your clit. “drivin’ around, tryin’ to beat me with a pretty pussy this fuckin’ soaked?”
with a shivering whimper ghosting past your splintered lips, you snivel out a soft mewl.
“sugu—fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum,” and as your breath gets caught in your throat, you feel him grab a nice chunk of your ass.
at his very grip, he gives your rear a rude spank and the recoil makes him hum in amusement. so soft, the way it bounced just from his palm alone.
oh, and spanking you became his favorite thing to do, especially since you were so fucking noisy.
as a shrilling whine prepares to race out your strained esophagus, you nearly yank his head forward again, hearing him groan against your clit. “d- did you hear me? ‘m close, gonna cu—”
“yeah yeah girl, i heard you,” he swats your hand away, and the low grit that rumbles from underneath his tone makes you throb for the nth time.
geto brings a few digits up toward your cunt to rub against your runny folds, and he starts making out with your pussy - with tongue.
sloppy smacks slosh out from your crying folds and you gasp, feeling him impishly nip your clit with his teeth once more. “mmf,” and his eyes start to become low and hooded.
he’s pussy drunk, very much so.
geto eats you out until you’re abruptly coming undone on his tongue, letting off a sweet euphoric battle cry with your toes curling in your knee-high boots. fuck, and even as he’s savoring the syrupy taste that pours on his flat flushed tongue, he’s still eating you out.
with brief circular maneuvers of his tongue, he’s got you whimpering from the sensitivity. as a staticky twinge pulses through your pussy, your hand grabs at his hair hard, tugging near his roots, having to literally pry him apart.
your cunt was so sensitive, throbbing a plethora of pulses as your mouth fatally goes dry. “f- fuck,” you moan, and you can feel your legs stick together once they instinctively close shut.
“tsk. drama queen,” he soils his lips together that were now perfectly glossed from top to bottom with your juices.
oh, his chiseled chin was just shimmering with such sparkling sap that it even poured a stream down the lower part of his face. his tongue slides near the cracked corner of his right lip, and he’s just luxuriating at the treacly taste of you. if you tasted this good, maybe the second place wasn’t so bad after all. .
as he’s still lapping up his lips with a wolffish grin, geto notices you openly gawking at his bulge and he snickers, patting his fly with a gloved hand. “it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”
“it’s rude to walk around with a bulge that big.”
“oh yeah? how ‘bout you fix that problem for me then, rookie?”
a brat, almost as much of a brat as you.
geto gets silenced once you slam your lips onto his, not even batting an eyelash that you’re tasting yourself on his tongue that’s swirling around yours.
it’s intense, you could feel your heartbeat start to match the exact pulsing pace from between your legs. his lips were icy, and you moaned—tasting a bit of mint that resides on his tongue.
his breath is freezing cold, it’s an almost sweet candied taste and you whine in his mouth once his hands start to roam up and down your body.
geto’s feeling you up- feeling up the pretty girl who just beat him in a race.
rough protected hands drag down your frame, taking in your curves before toying with the leather straps that droop against your pink lace-up chaps.
it’s as if even the kiss was far more competitive than the actual street race.
both desperately fought to win, swerving through each tongue like swerving lanes.
geto grunts, lightly pushing your ass back against the hood of your car. as tongues twist and tango in lewd unison, he seductively sucks on your pointed tip.
as geto’s eyes open halfway, you open yours, and he’s just staring at you with a look of feral - a carnal smug grin tweaking on each side of his lips.
“turn around again, pretty. hands on y’r hood like…this,” and once he spreads you apart, you moan once he rubs his bulge against the middle fabric of your pants. “good hah- messy girl.” his bulge was so damn hard, it felt like a brick.
the more he rubbed himself against you, the more your body ached and yearned for more.
oh..
his hands, geto kept his racing gloves on the entire time. as the stretchy rubber sensually crawls down your waist, you hear the jangling of his studded skull belt. with a few shuffles, he leans up close, pinning your hands behind your back like you were under arrest.
“just for the record again, you didn’t ‘beat’ me, you cheated,” and you scoff, feeling frigid air waft between your inner thighs. oh- here he goes again. talk about a sore fuckin’ loser.
“sur— mmph,” and he cuts you off, placing a gloved palm over your mouth.
“quiiiiet, you’ll get your turn to talk,” he cuts you off, and you let off a moan once you feel his bulbous tip smack against your sopping cunt.
it’s loud..
dozens of paps and squelches leave it right away and he plants a wet kiss near your exposed neck.
the rubs from his blushing reddened cockhead make loud noises that constantly replay through your empty mind.
“see? let her talk,” and you swallow thickly, feeling him use an extra hand to pry your legs apart further. clammy, big hands glue against the pink hood of your car before your tongue tastes the metallic fibers of his glove. “so eager. poor baby,” he coos against your ear, feeling you trying to swallow and gulp him down right away. your twitching pussy’s aching, and you can’t help the pathetic whimpers that hiccup from your lips. you even try to wriggle your ass but he rubs a hand underneath your clit. “aw, impatient are we? what’s the sayin’, princess? slow ‘n steady wins the race?”
‘okay…but i beat you,’ was what you were saying in your head… but you sort of forgot his hand was covering your mouth. duh girl.
“mmph—” you let off a muffled moan against the palm of his hand, trying to wriggle your ass against him harder.
geto lowly groans and then you groan, feeling what was a piercing that attaches toward his pre-creamed dewy frenulum. geto strokes himself a bit, fisting his cock. with hooded, jaded eyes, he watches his loose skin peel back before arising up again and he hisses. the frenulum perfectly hooks itself over his tip, and oh- how you wished you could have seen it.
you couldn’t see but, fuck did you feel it.
you’re so wet, your swollen pussy lips resemble a blossoming flower as he spreads you apart with two scissoring rubber fingers.
his dick piercing almost tickles once it starts to rub against you some more. he swipes it all against your clit, teasing it near your opening before pulling it right back out. “fuck,” you whine once he finally removes his palm from your mouth, glossy strands of your saliva coating the entirety of your hand. “h.. hurry up, suguru. ‘m gonna fall asleep at this rate.”
geto rolls his eyes, and that’s when with a semi-loud thud, your chest lands against your hood.
“oh please..” he murmurs, a brow twisting upward in annoyance. one of his hands still has its grip on your wrists and you bite your lip in anticipation.
geto’s tip leaked with creamy coating pre, and you felt remnants of it sprinkle against your entrance. with a raspy grunt, he drags his angered pierced crownhead down your drooling folds before roughly smacking it against your cunt.
more sloppy wet splats! of squelches spurt out from your folds as if it’s saying its own kind of lewd language and he grunts.
geto makes sure you’re arched over the hood of your car before whistling at your presented frame. “so damn…pretty,” and within seconds, he’s easing his way inside.
immediately, your eyes widen with your jaw collapsing down like earlier—fuck, he’s big.
from the countless times, you stared at his bulge, you figured as much. geto’s vast head had a rosy-pink tint of vermillion with how close it mirrored to being a pinkish red.
sucking in a greedy breath, he watches as he’s gradually disappearing inside of your cunt. his pierced dick made things even more sensitive, and you moan once you feel the piercing softly graze its way inside of your fluttering orifice.
pasty gummy walls welcome him, and now it’s his turn to bite his lip.
“hng, f- fuckin’ big,” you try to inhale a single breath, and he raises your leg just a bit. it now sits over your hood- and damn it, the angle he has was just brutal.
you just knew you were gonna feel him everywhere.
geto’s obelisk-like girth was wide ‘n fuckin’ tall, you felt him fully and the shaft ring that’s on top of his top continues to kiss against your sensitive throbbing nub.
prince albert to be specific!
it decorates his tip perfectly, making sure to tickle inside of you as he’s feeling you clamp down. “shiiiit,” you slur out your words in a mere whiny syllable, gasping at the curved column of his fat dick search through your walls like a maze. he’s expanding through you and you can’t help but part your lips, squealing before letting off a cute, ‘ooohh!’
your hand prints stick against the pink-stained hood of your car due to the insane amounts of perspiration and you whine once he gives you one biiiig thrust.
just one- and ah!
it rocks your world - literally.
you let off a cute squealing shriek, your legs shimmying a bit from his pressed-up weight.
“atta girl, bare ‘round me, good girl—fuck,” and the warmth you envelop his dick with makes him groan. your pussy was clingy, already so eager to devour him whole.
within a few punctuated thrusts to start, geto’s finally fucking you and each vigorous piston of his honed snatched hips makes your crossed eyes roll back in needy rapture.
his hands now stick toward your sides and you’re just whimpering from his size over and over again.
weighty inches pound into you at full speed, giving you whiplash every time as he impales your sweet greedy cunt. “fuck, mhm,” you bawl a fist against your car, gritting your teeth. riiiight there, the moment his tip smooches its way against that pretty bullseye spot, it’s over. there, he locates a spongy texture with the mushroomy pierced crown of his cock and it earns out a sobbing whimper from you. “ahng! right there, fuck. faster, there sugu.”
“right there, fuuuuck. faster there, sugu,” he mocks your whiny babbles, fully exaggerating.
to hell with him, you didn’t even sound like that but oh, did he enjoy getting on your nerves. just like you did- cute.
geto’s hefty sack smacks back against you from each nudging thrust he creates with his hips. every time, it makes him groan at how your body cutely slams back against him. with how sharp your ass pounds on his dick, those pretty wet sounds singing straight from your cunt- a sound way better than screeching tire wheels. “god, so fuckin’ warm. hah, squeezin’ all around me,” and as his irregular breathing patterns pick up, he leans in to kiss a slope down your neck. “bend over just a bit more- hah. there we go, m- my good girl.”
as your chest continued to lie flat down against your car’s hood now—he’s got you at such an angle to where you feel his cock expand everywhere.
it reaches every depth and rummages through every open orifice or just about near it. “oh my god!” you whimper out, hearing the sloppy sounds of your cunt whistle through the silent night. geto’s hitting you deep, slamming his keen hips into you with such rhythm, and each time he does, your brain short circuits.
tiny invisible stars circle and float over your head as you’re completely dumbfounded, thinking about nothing but how big his cock is and the way his pierced tip just plummets its way in and out of your drooling cunt.
speaking of drooling—you were starting to drool from the slit cracks of your mouth. you couldn’t help it- his dick was out of this world, and maybe you were exaggerating but fuck, you didn’t want him to stop. ever.
geto’s hastily rearranging your insides with just a few inches and it felt oh so good.
it was so good that you forgot the two of you raced together. you forgot about street racing as a whole, and instead, he had you dumb from his dick. “biiiiig fuckin’ stretch baby,” he’d grunt, starting to witness viscid stringy strands glue against each slapping thighs. geto’s dick slips out for a minute and he groans, gradually sliding himself back in.
it’s a sloppy ‘pop’ that rings between your cunt and it’s cute. you were wringing him dry, and with how wet you were, it wasn’t exactly helping things.
geto’s hot breath brushes against the open part of your neck before he gives your ass another playful swat. “fuck, that’s it. fuck back against me, don’t get lazy, uh huh. work those hips baby, f- fuck.”
as you weakly try to sway your ass into him to coordinate in sync with his crazed hips, he holds you in place—pumping inch after inch into you.
his cock sheaths inside between your syrupy-coated pussy almost effortlessly, and you let off a melodic moan the second his tip starts making out with your g-spot.
the pierced bulbous head dared to french kiss against there—making you writhe around him, on the verge of losing composure. you don’t think you’ve felt more sensitive than ever.
geto’s silvery dick piercing probes up and down your pearly clit every few seconds and he grunts at the gripping friction. “suguru…..fuuuck!” and as your words start to get bouncy, more sweet whimpers rose out of your sore throat. “more, more.”
“ungh,” he purses his lips together as he feels your cunt hungrily swallow his cock from top to bottom. with a rough pound, your ass smacks against his base—right near his tender plump testes and he groans.
such power-
even geto’s stunned for a moment, and his head throws itself back. the air surrounding you both starts to feel thick as smoke, and his eyes glance at your exposed backside that’s oh-so-pretty while arched.
all for him, and him only.
geto’s hips were simply maddened, and even he didn’t care about the race anymore.
well actually, maybe he did a little..
your pussy was brimmed with cock — sooo full, and you felt yourself starting to pant quicker and quicker. it’s as if you were having a literal street race with your breathing. geto’s getting lost inside of you, and it’s only a matter of time before his hips turn wildly sloppy.
gloved hands still reel you back into him as he’s breaking sweats within each long millisecond that passes. “pheww,” he’d wipe a sheet of sweat off his forehead, veins bulging in his beefy tatted arms. the drenching grip you had on his dick had him craving more…more of you.
the stoutness of his shaft jackhammers inside of your walls repeatedly until you’re on the verge of breaking yet again. geto grunts, the loud quick snap of his hips bringing him back to reality every time he’s about to go into another fantasm.
“fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum,” his words come out in a quiet rasp, and he claws a hand near the back crown of your head. “god,” his jaw tightens, and geto leans right up close to your neck, panting heavily against the outer shell of your ear. as long tangled tresses of hair freely cascade past his shoulders - all ruffled and messy from his helmet, he groans. “where do ya want it, sweetheart. tell m—”
“insideee,” you whine, barely giving him time to finish his husky words. your legs slightly raise against your headlight as it’s still stretched up and over.
geto’s still hitting you deep - so deeply good, swollen tip massaging every part of your clit and all. dozens of your toes curl up in erotic excitement as your tongue lolls out. you probably looked a sight. “inside, sugu, in- fuckin’- side.”
sassily smacking his lips together, he spanks you. “tch, dumb girl,” and the racer brings a hand to wrap around your neck. with a firm safe grip, his gloved thumb caresses a trail up your neck before he drills into you much quicker.
each snap of his hips draws out harmonic whines from you, gargled moans following out of your throat shortly afterward. the burn that’s twinging near the undersides of his thighs grows more and more intense before he geto lets out a guttural growl.
so……damn….. wet..
your flooding cunt’s slathering all over him, dripping near his base and he can’t help but snicker. “hah, fine. better hold still though.”
“fuck,” you whimper in response, feeling his sharp hips pound into you at such a pace. his rhythm was insane and there was no way in hell you could match his pace.
when it came to geto’s speed- yeah, you’d always lose. sure, you may have won today but when it came to his cock- you were losing with the hasty speed of his hips drilling into you at such miles per fuckin’ hour. .
as his turgid fat tip gives its final thrusting pumps inside of your cunt, geto’s body starts to violently shudder.
oh.. you were about to wring him dry. with a mewling slosh sound leaving the front your folds, you gush out yet again.
but at the same time…. so does he.
geto’s head remained tossed back with his round adam’s apple bobbing out of his throat. gnawing in the inside of his squishy cheek, he lets off a low grunt. his abs cockily flex through the white tee that tucks underneath his half-on leather jacket.
geto pulls out though, and it’s quick like the flash. he doesn’t finish inside to your devastated surprise, and a downturned pout forms on your lips. he huffs, watching such creamy-white amounts gush ‘n goo out in ropes and he sprays it on the outside of your pussy.
“damn,” he murmurs, feeling the awkward needy fidget of your hips. cute. darkened eyes remain on you the entire time and he grabs ahold of his veiny cock, aligning hit pierced tip against your pearled throbbing clit. “heh.. ain’t that a pretty sight,” and he smears it all against your pasty-creamed entrance.
now . . it’s painted with his color, white.
and geto came a lot because it’s still trickling out in ribbony globs, filthily oozing from the thick girthy sides and all like an erupted volcano. his teeth get caught by his quivering bottom lip as he watches such immoderate ropes of cum leave out of him. “such a- hah, messy girl,” and as he’s still lathering his sloppy seed that’s pouring out, sticking wads of splotches between the heat of your thighs, geto squeezes your ass. “awww,” he huffs breathily, noticing a few ivory stains splattered near the pink bumper of your car. “oops. might wanna clean that, sweetheart.”
hours passed . . many hours, and to say that you got fucked stupid was merely an understatement.
suguru geto had the stamina equivalent to a toyota supra MK4. his horsepower was his hips- with the added addition of his cock driving in and out of you.
but oh- you knew he wouldn’t be running out of gas soon.
or would he?
so. . many rounds, geto had you questioning your insanity the entire time, all because of his dick. if it was one thing he knew how to do, it was to fuck.
whether it involved his tongue or not, he knew how to make you feel good. it was one of the many things he excelled at, truly.
the only thing that got in the way was his cocky smug ego. every few seconds, he’d boast and remind you for the umpteenth time that your win was an unruly cheat, a hoax, or that he just couldn’t see the finish line because of your pink fucking smoke.
of course, geto didn’t say that part, that would have been him admitting that he lost the race and his pride couldn’t let him admit that he lost fair in square—
but your pussy could.
“hngh,” he falls back against your front cottony plus seat. geto grunts with a scowl entrapped in his thoughts. you pushed him - the audacity.
both of you were still sensitive but you had a tiny trick up your sleeve. “got some.. nerve,” and with low-dropped eyes, he watches you align yourself on his swollen pierced tip yet again.
he’s soft-flaccid, and he was pretty ran down. maybe now, geto was finally starting to run out of gas. with sweltering reddened lips smearing together, he watches you pick back up his expensive helmet, putting it over your head. “oh, gonna ride me while wearing my helmet, yeah? do your wors— oh.. fuck.”
his priggish words come to a not-so comedic halt the moment your cunt slams down on his cock. geto was still sensitive and he slouches back against your programming warming seat, dark eyes rolling back.
“goddamnnn,” and as your hips swerve around in circles identical to 360 car donuts, he sees you touching yourself while wearing his helmet. “fuckin’ brat—god.”
“aw,” you mock the exact faux caring tone he did to you earlier, making him touch you by bringing his shaky rubber hands toward your chest. geto’s fingers feel against the cropped top you wore, squeezing at your jiggling neglected breasts. “c’mon, sugu. i gotta guide your hands now too?”
“tch, shut up,” he groans, his heavy-sunken base sticking near your skin. dried splotches of cum glue against your sheeny ass as your hips continue to whirl ‘n rotate. you were unpredictable—you moved and jerked while he sat there with the most pussy drunken expression. geto lowly grunts, already feeling his balls starting to tighten up. he was trying to stop a sleazy grin from forming and oh.. was your cunt just making it impossible. “shit, ‘m not gonna last. s- still fuckin’ sensitive…. fuuuckk.”
the pink honda’s loud grumbling engine resounds through the echoey walls of the isolated garage with only the sounds of sheer skin slapping and a mixture of grunts following afterward. without thinking, you lift his helmet off of you, leaning in to kiss him and he returns the gesture almost right away.
geto’s lips were a tad bit delayed once they pressed onto yours. its a small yet cute detail- how he’s so pussy drink that he could barely crash his lips onto yours. as he’s moaning from your hands feeling on his burly tatted arms, his tongue sloppily delves into your mouth with no rhythm whatsoever.
maybe you were crazy, but you think you heard a whimper leave from his lips as he tried to nibble on your tongue. geto grunts, feeling that same pressure from earlier build up and fuck.. you were about to make a mess out of him . . . again!
his dick stills itself inside of you and his hands continue to roam down your body, further and further away from your jostling bouncy tits. “fuck ‘m cumminggg,” he’d moan between sultry kisses as stringy strands of saliva entangle with one another.
wetly, they form a web of sheeny lustrous cobwebs. geto’s foot rests against your bedazzled hard brake pedal before within seconds, he cums again.
this time, inside.
but it’s different this time- so so different.
it feels tenderly warm..
such hot gooey amounts dribble inside of you, spraying further inside your precious womb and you hum at the feeling.
his pierced cock fitting real nice and snug inside and you moan into his mouth, cocking your head in different directions as you trap his lips with another steamy kiss. “mmph.” a muffled whimper gets caught against your lips and you can already start to feel the whiteish searing ropes of fresh cum trail down the insides of your thighs. geto feels you slowing down on his lap—still buried balls deep, and he grunts in defeat..
soon, embarrassment overtakes him once he realizes how early he finished.
it’s a lot, again.
a thick load splatters heavily inside and past the inner lining of your cunt and he’s shivering underneath you. once you finally break away from his lips, your eyes meet his.
geto’s staring back at you, and you don’t see that cocky sly look in his eyes that everyone else sees.
right now, he looks…needy, and you think you broke him.
“what . . ?” he grouses, his hands still attached to your waist. his grip- it was gentle and tender a rubber thumb softly caressing down your curve. geto wasn’t ready for you to leave the garage, at least not yet.
“say it, pretty boy,” you whisper, pressing a kiss near his chin. your touch - it drove him mad.
never in a million years would he, suguru geto- have thought he’d get humbled by a rookie . .
humbled by you.
geto’s shooting straight daggers at you, but you can tell how flustered he is because he breaks eye contact a second later. you’re making him nervous, the same feeling he was making you at first when you had your first encounter with him.
as geto’s still warmly buried inside, he grunts once you take it upon yourself to softly wrap a hand around his throat.
oh- you were a mere tease, mimicking his exact movements from earlier. slightly wide-eyed and all, geto stares at you. and as he does—there’s that familiar glimpse of brattiness glimmering in his irises again.
you fucking turned him on..
“heh, f- fine then,” he stammers, heaving every few seconds to catch his irregular breaths. his body felt like it was on empty. no more gas left in him and that same cunning grin that plastered on his lips slowly started to fade.
geto’s not so cocky now, and in fact— he lets off a soft quiet whimper once you start to grind against his lap.
shakily, his hand squeezes your ass before finishing his sentence in a shaky defeated rasp.
“you . . fuckin’ win, sweetheart,” and you let off a sweet gasp once a loud smack! interrupts the moment, his hand swatting against your ass. “mhm,” geto grunts, “didn’t s- say stop. finish ridin’ me, sweetheart,” and his gloved finger swirls itself inside of your stuffed full cunt before pulling it right back out.
again, he’s filthy.
and even while being in such a state, geto brings his fingers up to his lips, slowly poppin’ them into his mouth before tasting the concoction mixture of both bittersweet messes. your syrupy cum and his.
quickly, he presses the tips of his rubber fingers toward his uvula, before staring at you with a greedy smug expression. he’s panting harshly, still trying to get over how you just outrode him literally, and he laps up his fingers right in front of you.
geto reclines your seat back a bit as you still straddled him, and he gives your ass its final spank before tiredly huffing,
“best- two out of three, what do ya say, r- rookie?heh..”
#★vegasbaby.#geto smut#geto x reader#geto x you#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#female reader#geto suguru#geto#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk#anime smut
11K notes
·
View notes
Text
Supplier Variasi Motor Honda Beat Street, WA 0895-2988-1068
WA 0895-2988-1068 Supplier Variasi Motor Honda Beat Street
C99 Motor, solusi **variasi** motor dengan **biaya** terjangkau & kualitas terbaik. Dukungan industri lokal, mudah ditemukan di **Malang**, **Jawa Barat**.
Selamat datang di tempat terbaik untuk mendapatkan perlengkapan motor Anda! Kami menghadirkan produk-produk berkualitas dengan harga sangat bersahabat, karena kami menjual langsung dari produsen.
Kami menawarkan berbagai macam kebutuhan untuk produk variasi motor, mulai dari komponen fungsional hingga aksesoris kustomisasi yang bermacam-macam. Dengan kualitas produk yang selalu sesuai kebutuhan, Anda tidak perlu ragu tentang performa motor Anda.
Salah satu keunggulan kami adalah kustomisasi ekonomis yang kami tawarkan. Dengan pilihan kustomisasi yang bermacam-macam, Anda bisa mendapatkan motor impian tanpa harus memboroskan biaya. Dukungan industri dalam negeri juga menjadi prioritas kami, karena kami ingin turut serta dalam mengembangkan industri otomotif dalam negeri.
C99 Motor berlokasi di Jawa Timur, Pasuruan, sehingga terjangkau. Dengan layanan yang ramah dan profesional, kami siap membantu Anda dalam memilih produk yang sesuai dengan kebutuhan motor Anda. Dapatkan diskon besar dan kualitas terbaik hanya di C99 Motor!
Jadi, tunggu apalagi? Segera kunjungi toko kami dan temukan berbagai produk variasi motor terbaik untuk Anda. Dengan C99 Motor, motor impian Anda hanya tinggal selangkah lagi. Terima kasih atas kepercayaan Anda kepada kami, dan kami akan selalu berusaha memberikan yang terbaik untuk Anda. Ayo, segera dapatkan produk variasi motor terbaik hanya di C99 Motor!
Supplier Variasi Motor Honda Beat Street
#SupplierVariasiMotorHonda Beat Street
0 notes
Text
Mulai Bareng BeAT Facelift 2024 Komunitas Honda Jogja
Mulai Bareng BeAT Facelift 2024 Komunitas Honda Jogja ., salam pertamax7.com, Mulai Bareng BeAT Facelift 2024 Komunitas Honda Jogja Link ponsel pintar ( di sini ) Salam Matic Laris Manis Mania, Astra Motor Yogyakarta x Paguyuban Motor Honda Ada info resmi dari Yogyakarta – Astra Motor Yogyakarta selaku Main Dealer wilayah Yogyakarta, Kedu dan Banyumas baru ini resmi meluncurkan generasi terbaru…
#BeAT Facelift 2024#Beat Sport 2024#Beat Street 2024#Honda BeAT Facelift 2024#Honda BeAT Sporty 2024#Review BeAT Facelift 2024
0 notes
Text
i n v i s i b l e s t r i n g
chapter 1
rafe cameron x pogue!reader
summary: really bad at these!
wc: 2.5k
warning: none! i haven't written in a while, this is a rewrite of a story that i started in 2020, so please bare with me as i get back in the groove of writing.
a/n: guess who's back, back again. determined to finish this series. rafe and sofia in s4 really inspired me to get back into this fic, hope you all like it ◡̈ pls reblog/comment/etc.. would love to hear your thoughts ◡̈
______________________________________________________________
Sometimes you really fit into Figure 8. Sometimes you all did. Like when John B was off with Sarah and he was wearing the clothes that she had bought him to go out golfing or go to brunch at the yacht club. Or when Kie was dragged to a kook event by her parents at the country club. Pope wore his suit when he had different scholarship and college interviews- and he really gave the kook boys a run for their money with how good he looked in his steamed suit. JJ was the least likely to really look like he would ever fit in on Figure 8, and that was because he never wanted to. He reserved his ‘money suit’, as he called it, for when he had to work as a busboy, and occasionally picked up other gigs. You, however, were fitting in more often than you would have liked.
You tucked your white cashmere sweater into your long, green pleated skirt. Letting out a small huff as you sprayed your perfectly curled hair one more time. Throwing your purse over your shoulder, you trudged down your hallway, your sneakers cost more than $400. You could still remember how your jaw dropped when you saw the pricetag, and apparently the kooks ate these shoes up. They needed them in every color, every new style that came out. It was madness, if you were being honest. It was like they were just giving away money.
That’s what it seemed like, at least. You had been working at a retail store in the main strip of Figure 8 for over a year now. It was the only way you could afford the clothes you were wearing. You got a steep discount off the price, and you knew how to shop sales better than anyone.
Your kook masquerade was always squished the moment you walked out to your car. The old beat up Honda that was always parked out front was nothing like what a kook would drive. It was too old. A 2005? The kooks didn’t know what anything from that year was- maybe only their participation trophies from little league that had the year engraved, that was about it.
Unlocking the car, you tossed your bag onto the passenger seat, closing the door and buckling up your seatbelt.
“Please start, Hilda..” You mumbled, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as your hand turned the key in the ignition. She did, as usual- but you would never forget the time that she broke down. You cried for the ten minutes it took John B and JJ to rescue you. They were like your own little mechanics. Pope had called you in the car for the ten minutes while you sobbed and tried to calm you down- it didn’t work. Nothing worked until you saw your car fixed. You still owed them for saving your ass that day, regardless of how many times they assured you it was really nothing.
Crossing over the bridge from The Cut to Figure 8, you sighed: traffic. You knew by now the traffic was always bad as you headed into the main strip of town. It was the most popular place. Coffee shops, restaurants, stores.. Who wouldn’t be there if they had the money and time? Yeah, the coffee was overpriced and no one knew how to drive in their expensive cars, but it was still nice. Nicer than The Cut where people revved their engines when you scurried across the street.
–
It took you a half hour to finally pull into the parking lot behind your store. Saturdays were always the worst traffic wise, but boy, was it a good sales day. Checking the time, you bit your lip as you contemplated running to the cafe a few shops down to get a coffee. Technically you had time- you were always early. You had a fear of being late if you were being honest. You knew it looked bad, and it wasn’t hard for you to just leave a little early for wherever you were going. It took you two minutes to walk to the cafe, and you would give yourself ten minutes to be in the cafe, another two minutes to walk back, and you had twenty minutes until you had to clock in. What if the cafe was busy? What if it took you fifteen minutes in there?
You slammed the car door and walked towards the Cove Cafe. The bell dinged as you walked in, a smile pressed to your lips as you pushed your sunglasses to your head. It wasn’t busy. What a relief. You smiled at the barista as you walked up to the counter. You and Gabriella had become good friends from your constant stops to the overpriced coffee shop.
“The usual?” She asked with a grin, scribbling onto the cup as you nodded your head. You still had ten minutes to get back to the shop before you had to clock in. You smiled and waved back to Gabriella as you left the shop, sipping on the drink that had become a staple to your routine.
–
This Saturday was not a good day for sales. The weather must’ve been too nice, or everyone had gone to the mainland. The traffic you had fought through died down, and the small shop was deserted. Main Street in general was deserted. You and your co-worker, Abigail were basically staring at each other for four hours. It was painful at this point. You both had resorted to hiding off to the side hall to watch Netflix shows, peering your heads out when you heard the door open.
Most of the time it was one or two people wandering in- usually tourons who just looked around and pulled you away from the show. It was your turn to walk out there when the door dinged, watching as two people walked in. Your eyes squinted as you looked to the security camera before heading out from behind the curtain.
You tried to hide your surprise- and disgust- as your eyes glanced over to see Topper Thorton and Rafe Cameron in the small store. What did they want? Were they making rounds because Sarah was complaining about something John B had said? You knew it wasn’t a good idea John B was hanging around her. Were they threatening your group?
Was it too late to shove Abigail out here? Was it too late to lock the doors and pretend you never opened? Were you allowed to not greet them? Spit in their faces?
“Do you have this in a large?” Rafe’s question knocked you from your thoughts, blinking a few times before you furrowed your brows.
“Let me go check for you.” You smiled at the two boys before heading behind the curtain where Abigail was. “How did I get so unlucky to have to deal with Topper and Rafe? How come you got a Hollywood directors cousin and I get two assholes who aren’t going to spend any money?” A groan escaped your lips before you brought yourself down the stairs to the stockroom.
–
“So you’re going to take the three shirts, the sweater and the two pants and then we’re going to order you the polo in the salmon color, and the sneakers, right?” You ran by him one more time.
“Yeah, and ship it to the store if you can.” Rafe nodded, tapping his American Express Platinum card against the wooden counter. You nodded, typing away on the ipad register. It was a relief to finally be getting them out of the store, though they were a lot less of a pain then you had originally thought they would be. In fact, they were really respectful a complete 180 from what you were used to experiencing. They had hung back up everything they had tried on, and made sure to get a full glance of everything they could want in a different size or color before making you run to the stockroom once they were aware it was in a basement.
The only awkward part of the whole interaction was when you had absentmindedly walked back to the fitting rooms and saw Rafe shirtless as he spoke to Topper about the shirt he had on.
“Pants fit well.” You awkwardly smiled, diverting your eyes from Rafe’s toned chest. You didn’t hate having them in the store, and he was about to drop a lot of money which was only going to be more money in your pocket.
“You’re all set. Everything should be here by Wednesday the latest. I’ll give you a call when they get here.” You smiled, watching him tap the heavy card against the card reader. His blue eyes glanced up to meet your own eyes.
“Could you text me, actually? The number on file is my cell.” Your eyes glanced to Topper as he smirked, eyes glancing your way. To be honest, you were surprised. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed to text customers for outreach or order updates- but it was the look Rafe was giving you, it was the smirk Topper had plastered to his face, it was the way Rafe was leaning on the counter.
–
“And then as if spending an hour with them wasn’t bad enough, he asked me to text him when his order got to the store!” You were pacing in the living room of the chateau. You had driven straight there after work, it was a bit of a usual for all of you. After work on Saturdays, everyone would meet at the chateau and unwind, usually a beer or two, and pizza.
“Why are you dressed like you’re from the 60’s?” JJ asked, as if he hadn’t been looking at you for the past fifteen minutes you had been ranting.
“That isn’t the point, idiot.” Kiara chimed in, shaking her head at JJ’s comment. “Love the sweater by the way.” She smiled.
“Dude, it retails for like three hundred, I almost threw up when a woman asked me where it was in the store the last time I wore it and then she bought it in the three colors we have.” You smiled back, finally plopping onto the couch next to JJ. His eyes were wide as he looked to your sweater, before petting it.
“Fuck, it’s soft.”
“It’s cashmere and get your grubby hands off of it. You probably have oil or beer on your hands, and it’s dry clean only.” Your hand smacked at his.
“So when’s your first date with Rafe.” JJ teased, a groan leaving your lips as your head fell back.
“Where the hell did a date even come into this? If he gets my number that’s just another way to threaten us.”
“I wish John B and Sarah were here to hear all this.. Sarah would lose it.” Kie laughed. “But, we would probably get to the bottom of it. She would just text him and see what was up. Either we’re overthinking it, or we’re perfectly on track for whatever his twisted mind is thinking.”
“So are you going to wear cashmere on your date with him? Do you think he’ll pay?” JJ continued, a grin planted to his face. He wasn’t going to let it die down, which you should have expected. Jeez, where was Pope, John B and Sarah when you needed them?
–
Your fingers hovered over your phone after you had texted Rafe, the chat bubble signaling he was responding - and fast. There was no need to be nervous about whatever he was saying, it was your job, after all. Texting him as he requested for the order he placed - you hadn’t done anything wrong or out of the ordinary.
You jumped a bit feeling your phone vibrate in your hand, eyes scanning the text saying he would probably show up right before you closed because he was busy. Your lips pulled into a tight line, preparing yourself to have to stay past close. You hearted the message without even thinking, all sense of professionalism threw itself out the window. “Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, too late now to undo what had been done.
–
The store was in nearly perfect condition, you had told Abigail to head home, that you would wait out Rafe’s arrival on your own, assuring her he would surely only be about 5-10 minutes. You finger spaced the racks twice, re-folded your tables and even dusted off the mannequins as you waited for his arrival. It was now thirty minutes past close, the doors had been locked, your fingers tapped along the desk as a sigh escaped your lips, eyes rolling. Pulling your phone out of pocket, your fingers fired off a message to Rafe.
hey! i’ve gotta close up, we’re open from 9-7 tomorrow, just tell the associate you’re picking up :)
Grabbing your things from the back, your keys twirled around your fingers, jumping as a figure was looking into the glass doors of the store. A gasp escaped your lips as your eyes looked to Rafe’s, a smile pressed to his lips as he caught the panic course through your body. A small debate ran through your brain, should you even let him have his things? He should and could wait until the following day. Teach him a lesson on being punctual.
His hand knocked on the door, smile still pressed tight to his lips. It was almost cocky, like he knew that you would let him in. Before even making a conscious decision, your feet were carrying you to the door and unlocking it.
“Maybe we should add a watch to your order, seems like you could use it.” Your tone was a bit harsher than you intended, but at this point, he was wasting your time. Holding the door open, you quickly locked it after he entered.
“I’m only thirty minutes late.”
“You knew when we closed, you’re abusing my kindness.”
“Is that what you call the attitude?” Your eyes were glaring at this point, feet carrying you quickly to the back where Rafe’s items were packaged neatly, a bow around the handle of the bag and all. Grabbing it, you gasped yet again as he had been closer to the curtain to the back than anticipated. A chuckle escaping his lips. “You look like a deer in headlights.”
“Can you just take your things and go? I’ve spent enough time in this store.” A huff escaped your lips as you shoved the bag to Rafe, already walking towards the front door to escort him out. “And don’t worry, I’ll send you watches during my next shift so you can work on being on time.”
“So you want to see me again?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, smirk pressing to his lips. He clearly was in no rush to leave, or leave without frustrating you any bit he could.
“Right now I would love nothing more than to watch you leave, Rafe.” Unlocking the door, and opening it you motion for him to leave, your patience growing thin as he took his time walking from the store. “Thanks for shopping with us today.” You mutter before closing the door behind him and locking it.
–
Scrolling through your phone, a text pulled your brows together.
so, how’d i look walking away?
#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks imagines#outer banks imagines#outer banks imagine#outerbanks#outer banks#obx imagine#obx imagines#obx fic#obx#drew starkey fic#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey
561 notes
·
View notes
Text
╰┈➤ speed drive
{san x fem!reader y/n}
quick description: san is a street racer and so are you aka y/n he has a big ego and so do you but he also finds you very attractive and makes a bet if we wins the race against you…
word count 2.5k
18+
[warning of content]. unprotected sex(use protection yall), cum on stomach, use of pet names (baby, sweetie), winning kink, ego kink, (lmk if I forgot one it’s been a million years since i’ve posted on here)
you’ve heard san’s name many times he’s one of the best speed racers in the male league and you were one of the best in the female league but the this new race you entered was unlike your other races it’s all genders, you knew you were going to see him in fact you hoped you would not only did you hear about how good he is but you’ve also heard about how cocky he is. you wanted so badly to meet him and beat him in a race and this was your chance. you went by your racer name in case you ever got caught no one would know your real name. angel was your cover name. you wondered if san’s name was actually san.
you began to get ready putting your hair into a slick back pony tail this way your hair wouldn’t get in your face during the race. when you arrived at the road where it was taking place it was a straight shot for most of the road but then turns onto a slimmer road. it was surrounded by fields completely secluded where no one would hear their loud engines. your car was your baby, you had completed remodeled the inside putting in your own engine, it was a 2020 chevrolet corvette with a hot pink wrap and pink leather seats. you had replaced the engine with a toyota 2JZ-GTE, you loved the way the car would purr once it started up. when you pulled up to the spot people instantly started to crowd you. not to flex or anything but you were fairly popular amongst the street racing community when another car pulled up beside you. a matt black honda NSX. you couldn’t help but admire the car she was beautiful, when a man just as beautiful stepped out “It’s san!! he’s so hot” you hear girls say behind oh. so this is san
you walk up to him to introduce yourself but it seems like he already knows you “angel” he says with a smirk
“I cannot wait to race you, truly, it’ll be an honor to beat you”
“how are you so sure you’re gonna win? you’ve never seen me race don’t be so cocky. it’ll make you look like a fool once you lose”
you give him a sarcastic smile then walk over to the person who will be judging the race just to get the basics of rout.
once everyone is settled in the races begin a few lesser known racers begin to race each other each time the man one but this didn’t worry you since every single girl racer you’ve beat with flying colors. the last race is going on before yours and san’s when sam walks over to you.
“getting nervous yet?”
“I was just about to ask you the same question”
“I have a bet, would you be willing to partake?”
you look at him a little surprised.
“what’s the bet?”
“If I win, you sleep with me. and I get to know your real name”
“are you serious?”
“dead, I mean we don’t have to make this bet if you really think you’ll lose”
“no, but i have to get something if i win”
“I guess it’s only fair. what do you want IF you win”
you pause to think, what does he have that you want.
“you know i looked you up before the race. the prize money for this race is only $500. and while i was looking i saw you’ve got a lot of money don’t you? how about if i win you give me $15k. that’ll help me pay off my new engine don’t you think?”
“you looked me up i’m flattered. now I really hope I win but not for the money loss id get if I lose but i want to hear you scream my name while I fuck you”
you’re left speechless by his confidence you can’t help but be a little turned on by it but you cannot let him win for your own dignity. the last race finished with the man winning again.
you both get into your cars and line them up at the starting like engines purring you both in sync look at each other then look at flag girl who stood in the middle of both cars she’s wearing short shorts and a little crop top with a little white flag she hold it in the air looks at you then looks at san and waves it down you both take off dashing leaving tire marks behind. he starts off in the lead but you are close behind little does he know this is the tactic you aren’t going your full speed until just before the sharp turn you speed up ahead of him and take the turn cutting him off forcing him to slow down now your in the lead and not just by a little he catches up to you but you still hold your lead. just a month ago you installed a booster into your engine. you didn’t want to just beat san you wanted to demolish him and he was too close for comfort so you hit your booster flying head of him now he’s a full cars length behind and you fly past the finish line and make a donut before hopping out and getting swarmed with the watchers.
san gets out of his car and just stares at you with his arms crossed. he’s wearing a compression shirt and you notice his muscles and defined jawline it wouldn’t have been THAT bad to lose. he walks over to you and extends his hand.
“congratulations. you really threw me for a loop with that turn. you’re good” then he leans in and whispers into your ear.
“y’know i’m better in bed then i am on the road”
this sends shivers down your spine.
“but you lost” you say while shrugging. “pay up” you say with a smile.
“well i don’t have the money right now give me your number. i’ll meet with you tonight with the money.”
———————————————————————
you took a hot shower once you were home. races always get you tensed up and you quickly dry your hair and put on jeans and a silk tank top and throw a cardigan over it to go meet san. he sent you the location of some steak house not too far from your apartment. once you get there you saw him waiting outside in a black button up and black dress pants his hair was neatly combed back. he looked hot, and he smirks once he noticed you.
“what’s the meaning of this why are we at a steak house?”
“I wanted to treat you to a nice dinner to congratulate you on your winnings”
you look at him with a raised eyebrow.
“no funny business” you say
“i can’t promise anything” he says leading you into the restaurant.
you decide to take advantage of the situation and order the most expensive meal and an expensive drink. and another. and another. he stops you at the forth drink.
“are you trying to get drunk? i mean i don’t have a problem with driving you home but i think you would have a problem with that.”
“im not drunk” you say slurring your words together. normally you can handle your alcohol but you didn’t actually know what was in the drink you were ordering you just wanted san to spend a bunch of money and ended up shitfaced.
“look i’m going to be honest with you angel I took you here to convince you to sleep with me, there’s a hotel above this place and I booked a room but i’m not going to take advantage of a drunk girl. i’m getting the bill and taking you home.”
once he payed he walked you outside to his car but drunk you refused to give him your address.
“listen angel-“ san starts to speak but you cut him off
“don’t call me that”
“but that’s all i know you by sweetie”
“y/n is my name don’t call me angel”
san can’t help but smile now that he knows your name.
“look y/n i’m going to take you up to the hotel room and ill get another room for myself if you don’t give me your address”
“okay” you say just looking down at the floor
“okay, fine up to the hotel room i guess you better not hate me for this i swear”
he takes you up to the room and places you onto the bed he helps you with your shoes then gets up to leave but you stop him and grab his wrist.
“can you sleep in here. it’s a big bed and, and i know that i’m drunk i just don’t like being alone while drunk i feel all funny and get nervous, could you just stay here please”
san sighs before nodding his head and turning off the lights he’s lays down beside you and you both fall asleep.
the next morning you wake up with the worst headache and you hear noise at the door. but it’s not your door it’s a hotel room door? and wait san is at the door??? he comes back to the bed with a plate of food in his hand room service??
“oh, good morning sleepyhead”
san looked surprising cute in the morning his smile was softer and his dimples showed.
“what the fuck” is all you can seem to say though.
san can’t help but giggle a little.
“we didn’t do anything don’t worry y/n, i don’t take advantage of drunk girls. i was going to leave but YOU wanted me to stay. basically pleaded i offered to take you home but you refused to give me your address” he leaned in a little and smiled
“but y am ou did give me your name”
“i’m sorry. this is so fucking embarrassing” you say then notice the platter of fruit he brought and take a slice of cantaloupe.
“i’ve never gotten drunk like this what was even in that drink i normally know my limit, guess i got carried away. but you stayed” your eyes fall to his chest. san wasn’t wearing a shirt, you couldn’t help but stare at his toned abs he caught you staring.
“like what you see?”
you snapped out of it a glared at him.
“oh come on don’t give me that look you did this to yourself baby”
your body had a reaction to that pet name he could turn you on so easily but you couldn’t let him win. san could also tell how easily he got to you that’s why he was so persistent he knew he could break you eventually.
you shook it off “i’m just going to eat then go home. thank you for taking care of me in my embarrassing state i can promise you it will never happen again”
san looked down at you. you were still sat on the bed looking up at him his large frame you knew of he were to kiss you right now you would kiss him back he would win. he felt it too because he grinned and bit his lower lip he picked up the plate of food and put it on the night stand all you could do was stare at him in silence this constant battle between you two on the winner you may have won the race but he won you.
he crawled on the bed laying you down and pinning you between his thick arms.
“I dont want to push you into this baby, i know I’ve been pushy but i would never force you to do anything you dont want to do”
you put your hands up to his neck and strokes his Jaw with your thumb.
“as much as this hurts my pride… you win”
san leans down slowly basically doing a push-up into your lips it was soft, softer than expected just a kiss just you desperately wanting more, you put your fingers in his hair giving it a tug to pull him closer.
he pulls away and smiles down at you.
“so eager for me baby, I wanna take my time and savor this moment”
he kisses you again this time he slides his tongue into your mouth. it’s not sloppy though it’s passionate it’s hard to think of anything other than him. you could kiss him like this forever. he pulls away again to catch his breath and starts leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw, down your neck, onto your collar bone he sits up his legs still on either side of you he pulls off your shirt revealing your laced black bra. you stare up at him while you unclasp the back of your bra and throw it to the side. you grab his neck and pull him back into a kiss, getting more and more eager you start to grind against his member and pulling at his hair while your tongues dance, he groans into the kiss from the sudden friction between you two. he starts kissing down till he gets to your jeans that you slept in he unbuttons them and pulls them off, your black laced underwear that matched your bra. he takes the underwear waistband with his teeth and pulls them off leaving them on the floor completing the matching set of your undergarments.
“baby you’re so beautiful. i’m a lucky loser”
he spreads your legs leaving kisses on your inner thigh.
“so wet, just for me”
you accidentally let out a small whine while he teases you.
“awe baby, getting so eager”
you roll your eyes and sit up and begin unbuttoning his pants.
“yes, you’re taking too long”
he finishes taking off his pants and boxers revealing his large member. you take his shoulders and and maneuver him onto his back. and straddle him just hovering over him.
“what’s this y/n? taking the lead are we?”
“yes”
you then align your hole with his tip and sit down, you begin to bounce up and down at this angle you are taking him fully. his hand his gripped around your waist while the other is on your ass. you begin to bounce a little faster he groans and cocks his head back.
“baby you’re taking me so well”
he places two fingers on the top of your clit making circling motions, you moan from the sensation and you pick up your pace bouncing a little faster.
“y/n, you look so tired let me take the”
the bouncing was straining your legs so he flips you over onto your back in once swift motion still in you and begins to pump into you fast and hard, he nestles his face into your neck breathing heavily kissing your neck in between breaths. you’re constant moaning keeps him going.
“sannie, i’m gonna cum”
the nick name only got him more exited.
“cum for me cum all over my dick”
after a few more pumps you cum all over him, your walls clenching around his dick he rides out your high. shortly after he quickly pulls out and cums on your stomach.
he leans down and kisses you on the forehead before getting up.
“you did so well, let me get you cleaned up”
he walks over to the bathroom and gets one of the hotel hand towels wetting it a little with warm water before walking back over to you and cleaning you up.
putting on his boxers while you both change back into your clothes. “would you consider going out with me”
you giggle and look at him while putting on your shirt, you don’t quite answer yet to keep him on his toes. once you both were fully dressed you walk over to him and drape your arms around his neck and give him a small kiss.
you huff and finally give in
“i’ll go out with you”
thank you guys for reading sorry if it’s shit 😜
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
actually you know what. i'm so done with this fandom acting like honda wanting a japanese driver on the grid in order to go through with the partnership was like holding red bull at gunpoint and grabbing some random japanese guy off the street and putting them in an F1 car
yuki's career is so very different from so many other drivers; guanyu had to move to britain to have a more competitive karting field, but yuki remained in japan until after two years of F4 japan (where he placed 3rd in his first year and 1st in his second). he went to italy - at the age of 18/19 - to compete in F3 italy, before moving on to F2 WHERE HE CAME P3. ONE POINT BEHIND CALLUM ILLOT AND 15 BEHIND MICK, BOTH OF WHOM WERE ON THEIR SECOND FULL YEARS IN F2
yes, honda may have asked for a japanese driver to be on the grid, but they had managed to find the best one to be under the red bull-honda program and HE MANAGED TO GET INTO F1. yuki not only had to sign onto the right team at the right time, he had to beat way more experienced drivers than him AND HE DID (for context: robert was P4 in F2 2020, scored 177 points, yuki scored 200).
so yeah. respect on yuki's name, especially when multiple drivers of color who weren't born+grew up in europe have spoken about how hard it is to get into f1 if you're not living in europe already.
don't fucking @ me about the european drivers who learned english as a second language. this isn't about them
#nightfalcon posts#formula 1#f1#yuki tsunoda#also he had to learn english the entire time so there's that fun time#f1: a fun study of classism xenophobia and racism
247 notes
·
View notes
Text
Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 18
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale
Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo
Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?
Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of guns, shooting, mentions of shooting
Chris' POV
I ended up crashing at Nate’s place last night. After the chaos of the evening, there wasn’t a chance I was going back to my uncle’s. Nate had a guy who could handle the car, so we made a plan to have it fixed first thing in the morning. I barely slept. My head was spinning, replaying every second of what happened.
Y/n.
The way she didn’t even look at me when she got out of the car, it wasn’t just fear. It was something worse: disappointment. I couldn’t get it out of my head. As soon as I woke up, I grabbed my phone and sent her a text:
Hey. Just wanted to check on you. I know Its all so messed up, but I need to know you’re okay. Please talk to me.
I stared at the screen for a long time, waiting for those three dots that never came. I didn’t blame her, but it didn’t make it sting any less.
Nate was already up, tossing on a hoodie and grabbing his keys. “Car guy is gonna meet us at the docks. Vince wants to see us there anyway.”
“Vince?” I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
Nate nodded. “Yeah, something about last night. Probably wants to know why there’s heat on us now.”
Great. Vince wasn’t exactly the forgiving type, but it wasn’t like we had much of a choice.
We headed out, Nate’s beat up Honda rattling as it cruised through the early morning streets. The docks were quiet at this hour, almost peaceful, if you didn’t know the kind of business that went down there.
As we turned onto the road leading to the docks, my stomach dropped.
A car passed us going the opposite direction, creeping just slow enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
A black sedan.
“Chris-”
“I see it” I cut Nate off, keeping my voice low. “Just keep driving. Don’t even look back.”
Nate tightened his grip on the wheel, muttering a curse under his breath. “You think it’s them?”
“Who else would it be? They’re probably snooping, trying to see what we’re up to.”
“Shit.”
“Don’t stop. We’ll tell Vince. He’ll sort it out” I said, my voice steady, but inside, my mind was racing.
What the hell were they doing this early? The docks weren’t exactly prime real estate for tourists or morning joggers. Whoever they were, they had no reason to be there unless it was for us.
We reached the lot near the warehouse, pulling in next to Vince’s black SUV. Nate killed the engine, and we both sat there for a moment, neither of us saying a word.
“You think they’re watching us?” Nate asked, finally breaking the silence.
“Probably” I admitted. “But we’ll let Vince handle it. That’s what he’s here for, right?”
Nate nodded, but the unease in his eyes mirrored my own. This wasn’t just about the car anymore or even the shots fired last night. This was bigger. And now, Vince was involved.
I pulled out my phone again, checking for a reply from Y/n. Nothing. My chest tightened.
“Let’s go” I said, opening the door and stepping into the crisp morning air. The docks might’ve been quiet, but the tension was anything but.
Vince was leaning casually against his black SUV, talking to Sully. Sully, who was Danny’s right hand man.
It still made no sense to me why Vince thought I could fill Danny’s shoes. Especially when there is people like Sully still around, who had been groomed for this life since day one, practically raised on Vince’s rules.
Vince glanced up, his eyes cold and calculating, and motioned us over with a flick of his hand.
“I heard about last night” he said, his voice low but sharp. “Shooting in Longwood. That was your car, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah” I admitted, my jaw tightening. “They got the back window. We weren’t hit, though.”
“And what kind of distraction did you have that you didn’t see it coming?” His gaze bore into me, cutting through whatever excuse I might’ve tried to muster.
“I wasn’t distracted” I said firmly. “I was doing a run. It happened when I was heading back to my car. I didn’t even have time to react.”
Vince studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “And you’re sure it wasn’t you they were after?”
I hesitated, then shook my head. “I don’t think so. I think they thought Nate was in the car. We just saw the same sedan pulling out of here on the way in, they’re lurking, Vince. Everywhere.”
The mention of the car seemed to hit a nerve. Vince’s jaw tightened, and he glanced at Sully, who gave him a slight nod, as if confirming something.
Before Vince could respond, the rumble of a tow truck cut through the silence. It pulled into the lot, heading straight for my busted car. Nate walked over to deal with the driver, giving directions to the warehouse, while I stayed behind with Vince.
“Looks like you’re making a habit of finding trouble,” Vince said, his tone lighter but still laced with an edge.
“Not by choice” I muttered, watching as the tow truck maneuvered my car out of the warehouse.
Vince stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You’ve proven yourself to me, you know.”
I frowned, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
“The other night. When we had an unknown on our turf, sniffing around. You handled it better than Danny would’ve.”
His words sank in, and I struggled to hide my disbelief. “I just did what I had to do” I said carefully.
“That’s the point” Vince replied. “You didn’t hesitate. Danny would’ve folded, made a scene. You didn’t.”
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to argue, to tell him I wasn’t cut out for this, but another part of me, the part that had survived in this life so far, knew better than to argue with Vince Moretti.
Nate walked back over, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Car’s sorted” he said. “He’ll have it ready in the next day or two.”
“Good,” Vince said, nodding. Then he turned his attention back to me. “Keep your head on straight, Chris. We’ll need it.”
I swallowed hard, nodding even though my stomach was in knots. As Vince and Sully walked off, Nate gave me a look.
“What the hell did he mean by that?” Nate asked.
I didn’t answer right away, my mind still spinning. “Nothing good” I muttered finally, staring at the empty street where the black sedan had been. “Nothing good.”
As Nate and I got back into his car, the weight of everything Vince said lingered. My head was pounding from the stress, and my chest felt tight thinking about Y/n. I hadn’t heard from her still, and it was killing me.
I pulled out my phone again as Nate began to drive.
Me: Y/n, I’m so sorry for what happened. Please, just let me know if you’re okay. I don’t expect you to want to talk to me right now, but I need to know you’re safe.
“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Nate asked, breaking the silence.
“Of course, I’m thinking about her” I snapped. “She was in the car when it got shot at. Do you have any idea how that feels?”
Nate’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I do. I’ve seen shit like this go down before. You’re not the first guy to have someone close to you caught in the crossfire. But you’ve gotta focus, Chris. Losing your head over this isn’t gonna fix anything.”
“I’m not losing my head” I muttered, though the edge in my voice betrayed me.
“What are you gonna do if she doesn’t answer?” Nate asked as he ordered his food.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice low. “I can’t just leave things like this.”
“She’ll come around” Nate said, though his tone wasn’t entirely convincing. “She just needs time.”
“Time doesn’t fix this” I muttered. “How do you fix something when you’ve dragged someone into a world they don’t belong in? And they could’ve been killed in the process. She shouldn’t have been there.”
“You tried to protect her” Nate offered. “She chose to come. That’s on her.”
“No” I said sharply. “It’s on me. I should’ve said no, Nate. I should’ve been smarter.”
He didn’t argue, which somehow made it worse.
When we got back to Nate’s place, I sat on the couch, staring at my phone, willing it to light up with her name. Every second that passed made the pit in my stomach grow deeper.
Finally, I sent another message.
Me: Y/n, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need to explain everything to you. Please. Just one chance to fix this.
I leaned back, running my hands through my hair, the guilt eating away at me. I had no idea if she’d even read my messages, let alone respond.
The silence in her almost built a rage in me, a rage I didn’t know how to contain. It wasn’t directed at her,I couldn’t blame her for shutting me out, but at Vince, at everyone in the gang, at the world, at the life I’d been roped into, at the situation that had unfolded last night.
I needed to see her, to speak to her, to hold her and know she was okay. Every minute of radio silence chipped away at my resolve, and the frustration boiling inside me threatened to spill over.
I stared at my phone, considering whether to call or just show up at her place. But I didn’t even know if she’d be home. It was nearing 11 am, and I didn’t want to make things worse by ambushing her.
“Wanna get McDonald’s breakfast?” Nate asked from the other side of the room, breaking me out of my spiral.
I looked up, narrowing my eyes at him. “Seriously? That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
He shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do? You’re sitting there brooding, and I’m starving.”
I let out a sharp exhale, trying to let his nonchalance cool my temper. “Fine” I muttered, standing up. “Let’s go.”
We got in Nate’s car, and he started the engine, pulling out of the driveway. The ride was quiet, the tension in the air thick as I stared out the window, my mind racing.
Y/n’s POV
The morning sunlight streamed through the cracks in my curtains, warming the room in a way that felt cruel given the cold heaviness in my chest. I woke up with my heart pounding, the events of last night replaying in my mind like a relentless reel.
The shattering glass. The gunfire. Chris yelling my name.
I sat up in bed, rubbing my hands over my face as I tried to steady my breathing. My room, my sanctuary, felt suffocating this morning. The usual comfort I found in the soft sheets and familiar walls was absent.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, but I didn’t have the energy to look at it. I knew it was probably Chris, but I couldn’t bring myself to face him, not yet. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face twisted in panic, his voice pleading to know if I was okay.
I didn’t know how to feel. Part of me was grateful we were alive, but the other part, the bigger part, was furious. Furious at him, at the situation, at myself for ever stepping into his world.
Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I sat there for a moment, staring at the floor. My limbs felt heavy, like they were weighed down by more than just exhaustion. I stood up slowly and walked to the window, pulling back the curtain just enough to see the treehouse outside. It had always been my escape, my safe haven, but even it felt tainted now.
I needed to move, to do something to shake off this feeling. Dragging my feet into the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy, a clear reminder that I’d spent most of the night crying.
After changing into some sweats, I made my way downstairs. The house was quiet, only able to hear the faint hum of the refrigerator. My parents weren’t home, thank God. I couldn’t handle their questions or concerns right now.
I poured myself a cup of coffee, but it tasted bitter, even with sugar. I left it on the counter and wandered into the living room, sitting on the couch and pulling a blanket over me. My phone buzzed again, and this time, I forced myself to look.
The tears came again, silent and unrelenting. As much as I wanted to hate him, I couldn’t. I cared about him too much. But caring about him meant being dragged into this nightmare, and I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to handle it.
I needed water. My throat was dry, my lips cracked from how much I had cried. I walked back into the kitchen and grabbed a glass picking up the Brita pitcher from the counter. As I poured the water, my eyes caught on a note stuck to the fridge.
"Will be out for the day. Have a delivery of fabric samples coming, make sure you answer the door. Mom x"
I stared at the note for a moment. It was strange how mundane her words felt after everything that had happened. Still, it gave me a small sense of routine, a task to do, a reason to stay put. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere today, so answering the door was no problem.
I took a sip of water, letting the coolness soothe my raw throat. My mind wandered as I leaned against the counter, the events of last night still looping endlessly in my head. I felt so detached from reality, like I was floating somewhere between anger, fear, and heartbreak.
The sound of the doorbell jolted me out of my thoughts. My gaze flicked to the clock on the oven. That must be the delivery Mom mentioned. The timing was almost eerie, as if the universe was giving me a task to force me out of my spiraling thoughts.
I set the glass down and walked to the front door, tugging at the hem of my hoodie as I approached. I pulled the door open, expecting to see a courier with a box of fabric samples in hand.
But it wasn’t a delivery man.
It was Chris.
He stood there on the porch, looking a little worse for wear, a McDonald’s bag clutched in one hand, my moms delivery held in the other. His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.
“Hey” he said finally, his voice quieter than I’d ever heard it. “I.. uh, I brought breakfast.”
I stared at him, frozen in place. Part of me wanted to slam the door in his face. Another part wanted to step outside and throw myself into his arms, no matter how much I wanted to be mad at him.
“Can I come in?” he asked, shifting nervously.
I hesitated, gripping the doorframe like it might ground me. “Why are you here, Chris?” My voice came out steadier than I felt, laced with the exhaustion I couldn’t hide.
“To talk” he said, glancing down at the bag in his hand. “And to make sure you eat something. I didn’t think you’d be in the mood to cook.”
His thoughtfulness made my chest tighten, and I hated how he always seemed to know me so well. I wanted to yell at him, to demand answers, to make him understand how much pain I was in. But instead, I stepped aside and let him in.
Chris walked into the kitchen, placing the bag on the counter. He was careful, almost like he was trying not to disrupt the fragile atmosphere between us.
“You didn’t answer my messages and I-” he said softly, his back still turned to me as he pulled two McMuffins and hash browns out of the bag.
“I didn’t know what to say.” I admitted, cutting him off, standing by the doorway, my arms crossed.
He turned to face me, leaning back against the counter. “And I get that. I do. But I couldn’t just leave things like this. I needed to see you, to talk to you. And.. to make sure you’re okay.”
I scoffed, the bitterness finally bubbling to the surface. “Okay? Chris, someone shot at us. At me. How am I supposed to be okay with that?”
His expression crumpled, and he looked down at the floor, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I hate that you were there. I hate that you had to see any of that. If I could take it all back, I would. The last thing I want to do is push you away.”
I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “Well, congratulations, Chris. You succeeded. I’m not pushed away, I’m shoved. And now I don’t even know what to think anymore.”
He stepped closer, stopping when he was only a few feet away. “Y/n, please.. I know I’ve fucked up. But I need you to know that you’re the only thing keeping me sane in all of this. I don’t know how to fix this, but I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My emotions were tangled in a way I couldn’t unravel. Instead, I just stood there, staring at him, trying to figure out if I could trust his words, or if I was just fooling myself all over again.
Chris took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine for a sign that I’d let him continue. I stayed silent, arms crossed tightly across my chest as I leaned back against the counter. The weight of his words already felt heavy, and he hadn’t even said much yet.
“I never got to tell you this” he began, his voice low and measured, “but at Danny’s funeral.. someone tried to make a hit.”
My brows knitted together as I straightened up slightly. “What?”
“They were caught before they could do anything” he explained quickly, as if to reassure me, though his tone carried no reassurance at all. “It happened right when Nate was reading Danny’s eulogy. The guy had a gun on him, but he was spotted before anything could happen.”
I stared at him, my mind racing to connect the pieces. A hit at a funeral? While Nate was speaking?
Chris ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “And then last night, before I picked you up.. I was with Nate. I saw that car, the car, snooping around his house.”
“The black sedan?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded grimly. “Yeah. It was parked down his street, just sitting there. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but then we saw it again at a gas station later. Im assuming same car, same guys. They must’ve been tailing us, thinking it was still Nate in the car.”
The room felt like it was spinning. Everything about last night suddenly had a sharper edge, a deeper layer of terror I hadn’t fully realized in the moment. “You’re saying.. the shooting wasn’t meant for you. It was meant for Nate?”
Chris nodded again, his jaw tightening. “I’m certain of it. They thought Nate was in the car, not you.”
The air seemed to thin as I processed his words. Anger bubbled up beneath my fear, mixing into a volatile storm. “So I was just collateral damage?”
“No!” Chris said firmly, stepping closer, his hands reaching for mine, though I didn’t uncross my arms. “You were never supposed to be involved, Y/n. I never wanted you anywhere near this. I-I don't even want Nate near it anymore, but he’s-” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “He’s in too deep. He’s too stubborn.”
“So are you” I shot back, my voice cracking with emotion.
Chris flinched, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked at me with an expression that was equal parts guilt and desperation. “I know. And I’m trying to figure out a way out. But this.. this isn’t just about me anymore, Y/n. It’s about Nate. And now it’s about you too.”
I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t sign up for any of it.”
“I know” he said softly, his shoulders slumping. “And I’m so sorry. For all of it. For dragging you into something you should’ve never been a part of.”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of my shaky breaths. I looked at Chris, trying to decide if I could trust him to keep me safe, or if staying anywhere near him was the worst decision I could make.
“You need to fix this,” I said finally, my voice steady but cold. “You need to figure out a way to get Nate out, to get yourself out. Because I can’t live like this, Chris. I won’t.”
Chris stared at me, his lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the weight of my ultimatum crashing down on him like a tidal wave.
“And I mean it, Chris,” I said, my voice sharper now, unwavering. “You do it. Today. I’m not waiting any longer. It’s either your Allies or your Affiliates. You decide which one you want.
His head dropped, and he let out a breath, running his hands over his face. “Y/n..” he started, but I cut him off.
“No. No excuses, no ‘I’ll figure it out’ You make a choice. Right now.” My chest was heaving as I spoke, the adrenaline surging through me making my words come out faster than I could think. “Because if you can’t.. then I can’t stay, Chris. I can’t keep doing this.”
His hands dropped to his sides, and he stepped closer, his voice quieter but laced with urgency. “You think I don’t want out? You think I’m happy living like this? Every second I’m in this life, I’m looking for a way out. For Nate. For me. For you.”
“Then do it!” I snapped, the frustration bubbling over. “Stop talking about it like it’s some impossible task and just.. do it. You’re Chris. You’re smart. You’re resourceful. You can figure this out if you really want to.”
Chris stared at me, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.
Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do it. I’ll make the call. Today.”
I nodded, my arms still crossed, my heart still pounding. “Good. Because this is it, Chris. No more excuses. No more waiting. It’s either me or them.”
He didn’t respond right away, just stood there, looking at me like he was trying to memorize every detail of my face. “I’ll fix this” he said again, his tone steadier now. “For you. For us.”
I wanted to believe him. For the first time in a long time, I needed to believe him. Because if he didn’t.. I wasn’t sure I could take much more.
Chris’ POV
I held her gaze, searching for any sign that she might doubt me. She didn’t speak, but the way her eyes softened told me she wanted to believe what I’d said. “By tonight, I’ll be out of this. I promise you, Y/n.” My voice was firm, but inside, I felt like I was balancing on the edge of a knife. Making promises to her was easy, but keeping them while dealing with Vince? That was going to take everything I had.
Still, right now, none of that mattered. What mattered was her, safe, here, in front of me. I pulled her into a tight hug, never wanting to let her go. We slightly swayed side to side before pulling back from each other.
I got you hash browns, a sausage McMuffin, and an iced latte. Thought you might need something good after the night you’ve had.”
She blinked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the exhaustion on her face. “Thanks” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
I hesitated, watching her closely. “Did you sleep at all?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Barely” she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear.
I nodded, concern creeping into my chest. “You need to rest, Y/n. How about this: eat breakfast in bed, and then sleep for the rest of the day. I’ll stay with you.”
Her lips parted like she was about to protest, but then she seemed to reconsider. The guarded tension in her shoulders eased slightly. “That actually.. sounds nice” she murmured, surprising me.
“Good” I said, relief washing over me. I grabbed the bag and her drink, gesturing toward the stairs. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”
We made our way upstairs, the silence between us thick but somehow comforting. Once in her room, she climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged as I handed her the iced latte. She took a sip, her eyes momentarily lighting up with gratitude, though the tiredness still weighed heavily on her.
I sat next to her, unwrapping her food and placing it on the nightstand within reach. She ate slowly, the quiet between us filled only with the occasional rustle of the wrappers. I didn’t push her to talk, sensing she needed this, just the simplicity of being here, without questions or demands.
When she was done, she set the wrapper aside and shifted closer to me, leaning into my side. Her head rested on my shoulder, and I instinctively wrapped an arm around her, holding her close. I could feel the tension in her body begin to melt away, little by little.
After a moment, I broke the silence. “I need to send Vince a message” I said quietly.
She tensed slightly against me, her fingers stopping their absent-minded tracing on my arm. “What are you going to say?”
“I’ll tell him we need to meet later. I’ll let him know I’m done. Finished with all of it” I said, my voice steady.
She exhaled slowly, relaxing again. Her fingers resumed their soft movements against my skin. “Thank you.. for taking me seriously” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, Chris. Or the thought of you losing Nate.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, letting her warmth ground me. “You won’t lose me. I promise you that.”
She nestled closer, and I could feel her breathing start to even out. The quiet of the room was almost deafening, broken only by the faint sound of her sipping the last of her latte.
As she drifted off, I stayed still, my thoughts spinning. The weight of what I had to do pressed down on me like a vice. Tonight, I’d face Vince and make good on my promise to her. There’d be no more runs, no more deals, no more looking over my shoulder. But leaving Vince wouldn’t be easy, and I knew the risks better than anyone.
Still, for her, for us, I’d risk everything. She deserved a life without fear, without chaos, and I wanted to be the one to give it to her.
When her breathing steadied, I carefully reached for my phone, typing out a message to Vince.
Me: Need to meet later tonight. Got something to tell you.
I stared at the screen for a moment before hitting send. The message was short and to the point, and I knew it would raise questions. But that didn’t matter now.
Y/n shifted slightly against me, and I tightened my arm around her. For the first time in a long time, I felt something like hope – a fragile, flickering thing, but it was there.
As I sat there, holding her, I made a silent vow. By tonight, I’d be out of this life for good. Whatever it took.
a/n: im going to keep my mouth shut here so i dont give spoliers
taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside @riasturns @sturnslutz @chrisstxrnsaxe
#snowy speaks#allies or affiliates?#dealer!chris#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#the sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo series#chris sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little Runaway
Pairing: Jake Lockley x Reader
Summary: “You heading home, carinõ?” “Not exactly.”
You decide to run and leave everything behind you, but the cabbie you've hailed to drop you to the airport might just change your mind.
Word Count: 2.3k
a/n: I'm not saying that you should listen to this song whilst reading but it definitely gives off the ~vibe~
It was raining and you hadn't packed a jacket.
You hadn't packed much of anything, really. A heap of clothes, your passport, and what little cash you had. You had no clear idea where you were heading; you'd decided you'd figure that out as you went.
The pavement was already beginning to flood, water seeping into the soles of your shoes and dampening your socks. You cringed, readjusting the bag on your back. Your arm, which had been extended to the road in a desperate plea for someone to take pity and pick you up, was growing heavy.
The sky rumbled above you, an unpleasant preview of the deluge that was to come. You huddled in on yourself.
The screech of rubber against gravel split the air as a blue Honda Civic made its entrance at the end of the street. It spun from one side of the road to the other in flamboyant turns, and its radio blared so loudly the windows vibrated and quivered.
You took your chances and raised your arm. You'd take a lift from Ghostface at this rate if it meant getting off this godforsaken sidewalk.
The car sped up, frighteningly so, and your stomach dropped. It swerved towards the path, purposely speeding through the puddles collecting in the gutter. The small wave of water drenched the legs of your pants, from your knees down to your shoes. The blaring music barely drowned out the hysterical laughter from inside the car as it sped off.
You stepped away from the road and the squelch of your wet socks almost reduced you to tears. You folded your arms across your chest and started walking. You weren't even sure you were heading in the right direction but anywhere would be better than here.
Five minutes into your trek and drenched to the point it was a miracle your skin hadn't turned blue, a car horn sounded. You turned to the road.
A cab emerged from the heavy curtain of rain, black and sleek. Its tires were deathly quiet against the gravel and you questioned if it was a figment of your psyche. An imaginary savior.
It slowed as it pulled up beside you, tires kissing the pavement. The paint job was so prestine you could see your reflection staring back at you.
You were a pitiful sight.
The tinted window rolled down painfully slow and you squinted your eyes against the rain to catch sight of the man who sat inside.
Dark brown eyes regarded you from under the fraying edge of his cap. His stare was stern but not judgmental, looking you over with something close to pity.
"You need a ride?"
You oddly found yourself speechless. Blinking twice then once more, you surveyed the car again before looking back to your knight in clad leather. His hand tapped against the steering wheel in an uneven beat, an action you might have mistaken for impatience if his expression was an inch less friendly.
You shuffled your feet, the small puddles of water collecting in your shoes making themselves known. This was exactly what you'd been hoping for but the reality of getting in a car with a stranger was daunting.
"I don't bite, carinõ." He said suddenly. "Look–" he leaned forward and tapped twice on the taxi sign and (albeit run-down) fair counter on the dashboard. "I'm the real deal. I'll take you anywhere you need to go."
He motioned to the back of the car. You inched forward, then fell back on your heel.
"Look, I'd do anything for a pretty face but I don't have all day, are you coming or going?" Despite the nature of his words, his voice was still low, even; you'd dare say kindly.
Throwing caution, (as well as your memory of every murder mystery film you'd ever seen) to the wind, you slipped into the back of the car.
It was an instant relief. The warm air from the heaters kissing your skin and heating your cheeks. Even the heavy scent of cigarettes that clung to everything inside the taxi was somewhat comforting.
"Coming, then," you heard your driver muse as he pulled back onto the road.
You'd given him your destination, (the nearest airport, railroad or dock) and then you were off. Watching the world fade into a blundered mix of grey's outside the car's window made what you were doing feel far more real.
A few minutes of silence passed, followed by a small handful spent trading small talk, mostly about the weather. You supposed that it was all part of his job.
"You heading home, carinõ?" he asked casually and you supposed it was a fair question to ask.
"Not exactly," you answered, choosing to leave it at that.
You caught sight of his nod in the rearview mirror. He was quiet in contemplation for a moment. "Anywhere in mind?"
A laugh of disbelief, mostly at your own actions. "Anywhere away from here." In all honesty, you hadn't planned that far ahead. Your destination largely depended on which ticket was cheapest.
Another hum of thought from your chofer. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess you're not going to tell me what it is you're running from, no?"
You crossed your arms over your chest and huddled in on yourself. Your clothes were still dripping and the heating was doing little to fend off the chill now.
"Then you'd guess right."
The car lulled back into a gentle quiet. The rhythmic sound of the tires gliding over the road, the occasional bump throwing it off its rhythm. The rain pattering at the roof and windows, and the persistent beating of your driver's hand against the wheel.
You shivered again, a rebellious droplet having fallen from your damp hair and sliding down your back. You missed the look the cabbie gave you in the mirror.
He slowed the cab, just enough for him to lean across and open the glove compartment without having to worry about ending up in an unplanned game of bumper cars.
A large, brown jacket was tossed to you, the faux fur lining the neck feeling heavenly between your stiff fingers.
"Warm yourself up." His eyes were already back on the road.
You slipped the coat over your shoulders. It swallowed you up in warmth and you sighed, pulling it taunt against your damp frame. It smelled of ash, cigarettes and gasoline, an unusual cocktail that somehow screamed comfort. Given where he'd produced it from, something told you that giving his coat to strangers wasn't all part of your cabbie's general service. You sank into the item of clothing a little more.
You thanked him and comedically he tipped his hat to you. The small smile you managed made your cheeks feel warm.
The rain let up if only a little and the radio took its place as the dominant sound in the car. It was a quiet, dreary song playing; one you'd expect to hear from the front porch on a Sunday morning. Soft and gentle, easy to listen to. And the Spanish singing was ethereal.
'Tuvo compasión, más allá del sol, más allá del sol, yo tengo un hogar, hogar bello hogar.’
You let your head fall back against the rest, shoulders slumping and a gentle hum passing your lips.
Your cabbie lifts his brow in the rear view mirror and oddly you don't feel patronized under his gaze.
"The song," you say instead. "I like it."
In a beat, he reached across and turned the radio dial. The song flowed through the speakers with new strength. His gentle raps against the steering wheel fell into tune with the ballad on the radio, and his features softened.
"En la turbación, más allá del sol, más allá del sol."
His singing was nothing like his voice, the gruffness vanished and the rough edge softened. It was light and gentle, soothing and rivaling the artist on the radio. It was homely.
"Yo tengo un hogar, hogar bello hogar."
You weren't sure where or what you were running to, but you thought that whatever it was would, maybe, feel like this.
A warmth sat in your chest now, not just in place of where the rain had left its chill but where a deep void had been, a cold emptiness that had driven you to run in the first place.
This, you realized, was the feeling you were chasing. You just hadn't expected to find it in the back of a stranger's cab.
You pulled off the main road and turned onto a smaller street. The curbs were flooded and the traffic lights shone dimly through the downpour. You cringed at the thought of leaving your little haven, with its calming music, warm coat and absolute enigma of a driver.
"Here's fine," you said, gently tapping the seat in front of you twice in case the sound of rain against glass had drowned out your voice. You caught his gaze in the mirror again, his brows were pulled together, concerned, but he complied and pulled over all the same.
Within a moment of the car slowing to a halt against the path, he turned fully in his seat to face you.
The airport was at least another twenty minute drive and it was a half an hour to the nearest train station. But you'd watched the red numbers on the fair counter as they went up. This was as close as your money could get you.
You shrugged off his coat, the act sluggish and slow with hesitance. As you attempted to hand it back, he pulled away, raising his hands like the item of clothing would burn him.
"Keep it, carinõ. You need it more than me."
You rushed to refuse, practically tossing it back to him. But your fight was short lived and in the end your cabbie reigned victorious.
You reached for the door handle, catching sight of him resetting the fair counter to zero without your payment. He hadn't expected you to see so you decided not to comment.
"There's nowhere else I can take you?" He asked. His voice was so soothing you almost wanted to say yes just to spend more time with him.
You opened the car door, hoping he didn't notice you slipping thirty pound into the pocket of the backseat. It took several attempts of carefully crafted sentences topped with faux confidence to convince him you were fine being left where you were.
“Thank you,” you said, buttoning up his jacket and sending a stiff wave his way. “You've really helped me out.”
Then you were gone, disappearing into the worsening night. And the rain had gotten heavier.
Jake had always prized himself for his indifference; His ability to stumble upon something and, for the most part, decide that it wasn't his problem.
But as he pulled back onto the road and left you stood on the sidewalk, something that felt an awful lot like guilt settled in his stomach. He didn't know why, he'd done his job; ferried you from A to B. And he'd been generous even at that, given that the rain on your clothes had soaked into the leather seats.
But the way you'd sat huddled up and looking impossibly small in the back seat, it stirred up something in Jake he'd dare call an emotion. He'd offered you his jacket, yes, but that was just being gentlemanly, he assured himself.
The car slowed to a halt at the command of a red light, the rain seeming almost louder now that the car was stationary. Jake turned up the radio. There was an angry rumble of thunder in the distance.
"Ay dios mío." Jake drove through the traffic lights and swerved into the other lane. The worsening weather thankfully meant no one was in attendance to attest to his horrific violation of traffic safety.
A minute of backtracking and you finally came into view, battling your way through the wind and rain, his coat serving as pretty useless armour.
You looked like the human personification of misery.
He stopped the car beside you and rolled the window down, raising his voice over the sound of the rain.
"Get in."
You stared at him as though you'd just experienced the strangest bout of deja vu.
"What?"
"You spend another minute out in this and you'll catch your death and personally I don't want to be responsible for you dying of pneumonia."
He was your cabbie. He shouldn't feel responsible for anything about you. Except perhaps for the fact that he was down twenty-one pound in fairs.
Almost to emphasize Jake's point, you sneezed, sinking into his coat as you did.
God give him strength.
He muttered under his breath, before leaning over his armrest and opening the passenger-side door.
"Come on, don't make me beg."
You regarded him again, much like you did when he first took pity on you and pulled over and Jake suddenly remembered that, yes, this definitely wasn't something regular cabbies did.
"Carinõ, if I had murder on my mind I would have done it back on Leyfield Road." He smirked. "You getting in the car now just lets me have a good night's sleep tonight."
You were skeptical, he could tell. But the feel of his jacket sat heavily against your shoulders seemed to remind you that his intentions were good; or not bad at the very least.
As you stepped off the curb and back into the car, Jake took an unburdened breath for the first time since dropping you off. As he kicked the cab back into gear he stole a glance at you, now sitting to his right.
You were shaking, hair drenched and droplets of water falling down your cheeks and dripping from the end of your nose. He felt like he'd plucked a drowning kitten from the gutter and put it in the front seat, all bundled up in his clothes.
You thanked him and Jake nodded, glad that you hadn't asked for an explanation for his sudden change of profession; from cab driver to protector of the traveller's of the night.
"What now?" you asked instead. A fair question. Jake sighed.
"How do you feel about coffee?"
thank you for reading!
moon knight tag list: @bakerstreethound @yoditopascal @moonlighy @linkpk88 @spideysimpossiblegirl @noahspector @malaanii @ineedmorejakelockley @drmeowingfangirl @loonymagizoologist @othersideoftheparadise @doozywoozy @mywellspringoflife
#first jake lockley fic let's go#jake lockley x reader#moon knight x reader#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#jake lockley imagine#steven grant imagine#marc spector imagine#moon knight imagine#jake lockley x y/n
791 notes
·
View notes
Text
redline | introductions
a street racer!ino takuma x f!reader fic
redline masterlist // next: chapter 1
✰ reader ✰
you could barely remember when your parents split, but you could recall your older brother suguru bawling his little eyes out when the lengthy custody battle resulted in him staying in tokyo with your father while you were to be shipped off to america with your mother. but throughout the years, you two stayed close. during breaks and holidays, suguru would come stay with you and your mother in america, and you in tokyo with him and your father.
you always understood why your parents split. he was a quiet man, and often covered in grease, but he was kind to everyone and always happy when you visited. and, you were always happy to help him in the busy mechanic shop he lived above. meanwhile, it seemed your sophisticated and stoic mother could only show kindness to you and the long hours she spent at work.
suguru and his best friend satoru had taught you how to drive one summer in tokyo. you could barely contain your excitement, until you ruined the clutch in your dad’s car and earned you the double-sided nickname, “clutch”. that same summer, the two had brought you to a meetup in an underground parking garage, where glittering growls of car engines grabbed your heart and hadn’t let go since.
college life has been busy and it’s been 2 years since you could visit your family. so when you finally got a free summer to return to japan, you demanded your mom to ship your new car with you. you didn’t tell her you might not come back if you decided to finish your college years in japan. luckily, she relented after weeks of pleading, and suguru and satoru were more than happy to pick you up from the airport in your shelby gt500 that had been shipped in just a few days prior.
your theme song? slay! - eternxlkz
✰ suguru geto ✰
suguru geto has always been protective over his little sister. how could he not, when his first best friend and only sibling lives on the other side of the world? and he just knows those nasty fraternity boys at your american college must go feral over a sweet girl like you… with a nicer car than anyone on campus, faster than anyone there, and too kind for your own good. he’s already heard all about the races you’ve won over lengthy facetime calls in the early mornings and late nights, when time zones aligned.
him and his best friend satoru are known as some of the fastest street racers in tokyo, and the leaders of the phantoms. their favorite pastime of creeping up on drifters in the mountains with their headlights off, only to beat them in the complete dark, earned the group its ominous name. at first, the phantoms were only known by their cars, but the small group has grown quite a name for itself among female fans since they first showed their faces.
it’s only fitting that the leader of the phantoms drives a honda nsx.
his favorite song to listen to while racing is 9mm - memphis cult
✰ satoru gojo ✰
the mouthy satoru gojo has been friends with suguru for so long, he’s practically a part of the geto family. if suguru isn’t answering his phone, he’s next in line for your chaotic facetime calls. having no other siblings himself, he thinks of you as his own.
he spends a lot of time in the shop with your father, tinkering and tuning cars, but mostly sitting there watching your father and nanami do it while he plays on his phone. he says he’s “good with his hands”. nanami usually hits him in the chest after a line like that.
satoru's baby is his nissan 180sx type x.
his favorite song to blast is phonky trap - suave lee
✰ kento nanami ✰
the tuner and only sane member of the phantoms. he became close with suguru and satoru when your father hired him as a young teenager to help out in his shop. that’s also where he learned to be a modern master of modifications (and safety).
you’re not as close with kento, but he’s always been very kind to you. kento usually keeps to himself unless he’s reprimanding suguru and satoru for wrecking a transmission or burning through brakes too fast. he used to race himself, and was quite good at it, but has since decided to keep his nose under the hood of a car rather than behind the wheel after getting into a bad accident.
kento's retired racer is a nissan s13.
he claims doesn’t have a favorite racing song, but in the club - mishashi sensei always happens to be in his top 5.
✰ shoko ieiri ✰
you and shoko don’t know each other too well, but you think she’s so cool and she thinks you’re adorable. shoko knows the rest of the boys from school. she doesn’t drive, but likes to attend races and meetups. she’s usually the one to help supply the phantoms with race information, gossip, and cigarettes. she’s also not allowed more than 10 feet in the geto's shop after she almost blew the place up when trying to light a cigarette.
she loves when suguru and satoru play pink like suki - pebbles&tamtam for her.
✰ takuma ino ✰
as the leader of the shadows, takuma often feels overwhelmed. he didn’t really mean to start the newest, most threatening team of racers in tokyo. he just liked cars and made friends with a few random guys who did as well. it’s not his fault that they’re all naturally gifted with intuition and reflexes like you can’t imagine. the group seemed to jump out of the shadows and into the streetlights, which earned them the name.
suguru geto in particular did not like the thought of takuma. and by proximity, none of the phantoms did. no one was sure whether it was takuma's good looks, expensive car, or race rankings that posed a threat to suguru and his team the most, but it made for a spicy rivalry and thrilling race nights. somehow, the rest of the tokyo car scene gained a questionable perspective on the shadows that skewed their reputation. takuma just kind of plays along with his given “edgy” persona.
in reality, he’s extremely kind. kind enough to even teach megumi and choso how to drift and modify cars. he first started loving the car scene when he stumbled upon a meetup after sneaking out one night, and his passion was further solidified when his father gifted him a manual when he got his drivers license. in his free time, he’s usually found at the skate park or in his mom’s sushi restaurant.
ino's pride and joy is his nissan skyline gtr.
his go-to playlist almost always starts with killka - ghostface playa
✰ megumi fushiguro ✰
he’s the epitome of “shut up and drive”. you won’t hear much more than a grumble from his mouth, but you’ll know what he meant to say when he’s flying past the finish line at 120 mph, no less than 80 feet in front of you too. he’s an aggressive racer, which he learned from his dad, who was one of tokyo's fastest before his son was born and his wife made him quit.
the shadows’ second best drives a skyline r34 gtt.
an aggressive racer loves an aggressive song to race to… shut the fuck up - ghostface playa
✰ choso kamo ✰
choso is the shadow’s newest member after moving to the area and his cousin, noritoshi, decided he’d rather focus on school more than dying. choso is more of a motorcycle guy, but drives more often since the tokyo car scene is so exciting. he’s a great racer and is really quite nice once you get past his intimidating face tattoos. his younger cousin yuji is almost always in his passenger seat, if he’s not already in megumi's.
choso loves cruising in his nissan 180sx 4k.
he can’t get enough of 6ixspeed - 7oh2
✰ aoi todo ✰
aoi is the biggest himbo you’ll probably ever meet, but is secretly stacking a world of car knowledge in his pea-sized brain. he can race, but prefers flexing his muscles and head under the hood of a car. as the tuner for the shadows, he likes to make his groups’ cars as flashy as they are fast. he most likely never has a shirt on unless he’s at a meet and he has to.
his favorite song to blast is obviously kitty phonk - soviss
✰ yuji itadori ✰
he doesn’t race, but hangs around with the shadows anyways. he’s more into baseball, he’s got a scholarship for it at a nearby university, but is always at meets and races when he doesn’t have a game. he’s choso's cousin and megumi's best friend, and is always in one of their passenger seats bothering them. the shadows tried to teach him how to race, but after wrecking one of toji's cars into a tree and earning a scar on his face, he prefers only using his feet to run bases rather than stomping gas pedals.
he likes to pretend he’s in a tiktok edit and constantly asks choso and megumi to play masquerade - siouxxie sixxsta
✰ toji fushiguro ✰
toji knows your dad from way back, when they used to race each other in friendly competitions on the streets and mountains around tokyo. they became good friends over the years, and often laugh over what their kids are up to over some whiskey in one of their shops. he earned a scar on his lip after taking a turn too fast back in the day, which your dad had thankfully stopped and pulled him out of before the engine caught on fire.
toji's wife forced him to stop racing when megumi was born, but ended up in a years-long phase of drinking and smoking when she left them a few years later. that’s how he ended up with the 10-car garage and shop he has now- a shitfaced phone call during a 10 day bender after winning a million yen in a craps tournament at a nearby casino. he’s since calmed down. if he’s not down in his shop giving tips to the boys, he’s probably listening to megumi's older sister, tsumiki, complain on the phone about her college classes.
he has no idea what the hell those kids are listening to, but can’t help but bop his head along to rave - dark ダーク
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆ 。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
redline masterlist // next: chapter 1
tag list // @stillnotherapy @rieamena
© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.
#jjk x reader#jjk angst#jjk smut#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk fic#jjk suguru#geto suguru#jjk satoru#satoru gojo#jjk nanami#nanami kento#jjk shoko#shoko ieiri#jjk ino#ino takuma#ino x reader#jjk megumi#megumi fushiguro#choso kamo#jjk choso#todo aoi#jjk todo#jjk itadori#yuji itadori#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#jjk sukuna#sukuna#vorfreudevortex
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
Honda Beat
#Honda Beat#modified#stance#tuning#retro rides#tuner#slammed#street#imports#lowered#jdm#kei car#kyusha#shakotan#roadster#convertible#fitment#static#rhd
579 notes
·
View notes
Note
there is that adorable pic of a 13 year old pecco and marc, hugging him by the shoulders. pecco hadn’t become a rossi protege yet, marc recently won his title in 125, they are both so so young. like, of course pecco is going to think a senior (albeit as famous as marc was at the time) is cool and worthy of “celebrity” picture! of course marc is going to take photos with kids that ask him to!
and then they meet at the rossi ranch years later, pecco after an abysmal rookie moto3 season, but part of vr46 academy, marc as a multiple world champion in different categories. like, i’m sure they’ve crossed paths in the paddock, but it looks like the ranch was their first outside of work get-together?
i do wonder at what point did pecco stop seeing marc as this admirable motogp giant? they are co-workers/competitors now, supposedly equals. does the childish wonderment and idealization ever go away, when you are put head-to-head? yes, pecco has said that he doesn’t consider himself on marc’s level, but it does really answer the question, when marc achieves something awesome, like a fucking pole on a honda, does it fill pecco only with the sense of falling short, jealousy, frustration, or is there that tiny 13 year old pecco somewhere inside going “wow, this guy is awesome”
anon... first of all this ask is right up my street. second of all, yeah no the thirteen year old never entirely went away
to some extent obviously all riders kinda do this when they end up competing with the guys they grew up admiring. (or well in modern motogp, that's how it worked out - the competitive windows do have to be big enough, yeah? I'm not sure about the nineties premier class riders, but starting from valentino who had the biaggi poster, was a capirossi fan, an norick fan... but then also didn't get to compete directly with doohan for instance and was instead just mentored by him. valentino sticking around for so long basically Breaks this.) like I was talking in this ask about the dani/marc relationship and how when we talk about dani being marc's 'reference', it does mean something slightly different than the valentino hero idealisation. basically, it's the question of whether you think you're gonna fight that guy one day, if all goes well... because if you're little pecco, right, you're looking up to marc and want to be him, but you also want to beat him (if little pecco is feeling very brave). so marc fills the role of 'reference', the bloke who is basically always a few steps ahead of pecco - exaggerated by how precocious marc was. the role of 'hero' is of course again filled by valentino, though in this case pecco didn't actually have to meaningfully compete against his idol. the separation is a bit cleaner
and look, I doubt this ever really went as far as marc's admiration for dani. but yeah as you say: at the end of the day it's this cool superstar who is tearing up the lower categories and then is tearing up the premier class... like that's this prodigy... and then you get to be part of your actual hero's academy AND you're there when the prodigy gets invited to your hero's home!! not only is marc cool, not only is he winning everything, but also valentino clearly thinks he's fantastic... you kinda want valentino to think you are fantastic in the same way he talks about marc and looks at him... and pecco is like. seventeen at this point. great age. super impressionable. he's having a marginally better season than his absolute flop moto3 campaign but it's still!! rough! you know, so far away from this world that valentino and marc inhabit. obviously young athletes dream, obviously they have to be a bit delusional, obviously they have to believe they'll make it, but those are the kinds of harrowing years that really dent your actual belief. like god, the world of valentino and marc must have felt kinda unattainable back then...
anyway, obviously a year later marc became public enemy number one. personally, if I had to guess, I don't really think valentino has ever spoken much to his proteges about the details of the marc feud. it's the kind of thing where you maybe occasionally badmouth a guy you all hate when the kids are in the room, some dismissive comment or some slightly ugly sideswipe... but valentino did probably prefer to keep his mentees out of the whole thing and isn't giving them particularly detailed hot takes on sepang 2015. I mean, look at what luca said last year
hey, he could be lying, but is he really the type? "I'm sure he's still angry" - even that doesn't sound like he knows anything particularly specific about where his brother's at these days. if valentino hasn't spoken much about sepang 2015 with his own flesh and blood, then is he really giving long debriefs to marco bezzecchi? are you sure? of course, unlike luca, pecco does have the dubious distinction of actually being at sepang 2015, so there's always the chance he was in the room when some nasty things were being said about marc... but my sense is that all the academy riders have kind of been left to their own devices when making up their minds about the marc/valentino relationship. just probably a bit of a no-go topic on most days. and while pecco may have initially been completely on board with the marc hate, over the years his stance has mellowed to the brave and bold position of 'actually, I have other stuff to worry about'. like, this is why you don't get this weird bez-style all-over-the-place behaviour from pecco - fundamentally, he is far too sensible and far too interested in his own career to be going around seeking revenge on the behalf of his mentor. it's not like valentino really seems to expect him to either. sometimes the best thing you can do is simply try not to care that much
soooooo fundamentally you get to this place where for quite a few years, pecco really isn't thinking about marc too often I reckon... it's very much background noise - even when he's gotten to motogp, he's obviously not exactly fighting with marc from the word go. he has other stuff to worry about! then marc is gone for a bit! 2021 is kinda weird because pecco never really felt in that championship fight (I mean, maybe he thought he was idk) because he only really got going late in the season, and marc definitely wasn't in that title fight... BUT pecco got his first ever motogp win as a result of a proper great defensive ride against marc at aragon! seven overtakes and re-overtakes in the last few laps! truly some proper smart riding, anticipating where marc was going to attack and figuring out how to get him back every time. and of course, that's like... got to be one of the coolest ways possible you can get your first win? beating one of the all time greats (even if a physically impaired one) in a direct extensive duel? genuinely looking at the current grid, I'd struggle to come up with a cooler maiden win... oh I suppose zarco last year would actually be a decent shout. one of those two imo! anyway what an ego boost that must be
typed out the response to this ask on wednesday and let it *vaguely gestures* simmer a bit, but actually thursday they had pecco on that motogp podcast thingy and talked him through basically his whole career. which is one of those cases of 'not necessarily anything new, but always interesting to hear how the bloke himself puts it', and anyway it does also cover a lot of the stuff referenced in this post, would recommend. I did want to quickly bring it up because pecco does talk about aragon 2021 in that (at around 23 mins in):
Q: And the amount of pressure, for everyone who doesn't remember - it was Aragon '21, vs Marc Marquez, anti-clockwise track, everyone's expecting a certain person to win. [...] Seven times, he passes you in the last three laps, and every time you have to find something, for your first win - A: Not bad, yeah? Q: How was that feeling crossing the line, because it's your first win but it's also the last three laps of craziness that you've come through? A: Yeah, I remember that... we were prepared to fight for this victory because we work at it a lot and we were finally prepared and as soon as started the weekend I was feeling great. Marc was very strong, Fabio was very strong also... We started to race and I did the pole position and then we started to race and Marc was like always super super fast in Aragon because it's a left hander track, he's very strong in Aragon, it's his home grand prix, so... I was trying the maximum and I was there fighting with him and for me was fantastic because I was very strong in a very complicated track for me. The first - was not the first possibility to win but was one of the first and we were fighting with the maximum with the top [player?] so defeating him in Aragon was fantastic and I never could have asked more for my first victory for sure. Because some win their first victory with gap or with some luck, we fight. [...] Yeah, was fantastic.
like I said. it's a really cool win! pecco knows it's a cool win! he knows it's a cool win because it's marc! even two premier class title pecco still feels deeply aware of how special that was
*reaches up to scratch at ear in slightly self-conscious manner when saying "not bad" about beating the eight times world champion*
because it does mean something extra to beat marc, right? and that's also what this represents to pecco, as an opportunity... obviously on balance he'd very much want marc to not be in his team, because he's not an idiot and he's aware it's going to be a bit of a nightmare. that being said! of course, would there be anything cooler than for him than actually beating marc in the same team... I don't want to sound like a broken record on this topic but just to reiterate, none of the titles won post-2019 are in any way diminished by marc's absence - and fundamentally pecco must know he's a deserving champion, even if he still considers himself on a different level from valentino and marc. but of course it would mean something special to beat him! it's already meant something special to beat him in individual races! it'd mean something special if he beats him this year, older bike be damned! and it'd mean something special next year. pecco is deeply wary of marc, and rightly so, but don't take that to mean he isn't up for the fight. he always has been
weirdly enough, I do actually think being valentino's protege might help him be sensible about marc. because the thing is pecco has clearly put some thought into all of this at some point and had to decide for himself... or well, to make peace with the fact that he is not going to be the next valentino rossi - and that he doesn't really want to be. it's kinda the casey versus jorge distinction: you can be a valentino fan and admire everything he's done on-track but still very much know that valentino the persona isn't something you really want to attempt to emulate because it just isn't you, or you can hunger after attaining that kind of 'character' and popularity for yourself and find yourself disillusioned when things turn out differently. pecco's in the casey camp, minus the desire to shove valentino off the nearest cliff edge. like he says:
man wants a quiet life when he's not doing the death sport. and, y'know, marc might not have quite those stratospheric levels of popularity as valentino does... but it's fairly obvious pecco links them in his mind, which is not just about talent. they're both Characters, they're both figureheads in the sport, they're both larger than life. and maybe sometimes, deep down, someone like pecco might wish that kind of thing did come naturally to him... but if he has felt that way, then he's already kinda had to work through all that. he's valentino's successor! he's the next big italian motogp star! but he's never going to be valentino. and he wouldn't want that life, it wouldn't make him happy - and probably he looks at marc with all his drama and controversy and thinks he wouldn't really want all that either. pecco's given all of this a lot of thought, and he's still probably a bit too self-conscious and a bit too aware of all of this stuff for his own good, but that does also mean he knows his own head and where he's at when it comes to his own status in the sport. both when it comes to the character and when it comes to the talent. sure, having marc's fuck you talent would be nice, everyone would want that... but also if you're a two time premier champion, at a certain point you need a certain cockiness about your own abilities. he's spoken about how he needs a more well-settled bike than casey or marc, how he can't out-perform the bike like they can - there clearly is a lot of admiration there, still the sense of respect and awe you probably can't ever quite shake. pecco won't ever be one of those aliens. but he's had enough time to establish himself in the sport before he's had to deal with the marc threat in a more active way, has had the chance to find his place without worrying too much about marc - has been able to build up his own confidence. at the same time, pecco is still very obviously aware of just who marc is and the weight of that legacy and it shapes how he approaches fighting marc. it's pecco's admiration vying with his arrogance - and he has to hope the latter wins out. you can't be fearful of the legacy of those you're trying to beat. you have to kill your heroes, even if it's a strange flavour of hero
anyhow - one big way in which valentino does loom large here is that everyone else is aware of his rivalry with marc and how it is crucial Historical Context for the pecco/marc stuff. because pecco does have that dog in him, he's fundamentally disinterested in fighting his idol's battles and is mainly just looking out for himself. a big part of the general wariness towards marc isn't even valentino-related antipathy or just respect for his abilities, but also this kind of sense of... god, this marc thing is always going to have extra implications, will there be discourse, can there please not be discourse... he doesn't want to get into this stuff, he doesn't want to be part of the sepang 2015 reenactment society. he's pretty determined to stay clear of marc-related controversy at every turn, and generally does do a good job of not letting the undoubtedly extremely annoying marc annoy him... the only time pecco had proper marc-induced head loss was mugello last year - y'know, that whole thing when he felt impeded by marc and then slowed down long enough to give marc the chance to warm up his tyres and catch a pecco tow to the front row. like that was just head gone, the kind of thing that happens when you already find someone deeply annoying and then you kinda choose the wrong moment to get mad at them. with a bit of distance pecco may well have regretted reacting that way, like you don't really want to give marc that kind of opening. he's been way more disciplined since then, but it still opened the door
fundamentally, the less time pecco spends obsessing over marc, the better for him. pecco obviously has to be very aware of marc and wary of him, but he also can't spent too much energy on admiring him or being irritated by him or anything else. (given that valentino's descriptions of the marc/pecco rivalry do seem to frame marc as a competitor who sounds an awful lot like valentino himself, ironically valentino is quite well-placed to offer the 'try to avoid letting the guy who gets off on annoying his rivals annoy you' advice.) it's always going to be tough, isn't it, competing against your heroes, figuring out how to disentangle those past emotions from how you actually approach fighting them, how to feel comfortable enough in your own skin to not be cowed by that status... you can't get to a place where you're so admiring or respectful or intimidated that you're already beaten before the competition even starts - and to his credit pecco has shown he is both willing to stand up to the famous marc marquez as well as capable of doing so. my guess is that for him, the childhood idolisation isn't primarily expressed in a 'wow he dragged the honda to pole!!' (not least when he was using pecco's teammate to directly deny pecco). sure, perhaps you do get those knee jerk reactions of admiring the sheer craft of your rival's riding, just have to do your best not to let it affect you. but for the most part it's... really wanting to beat marc. and sometimes feeling a teensy bit insecure about just how good marc is. and really wanting to beat him. he kinda has to be sensible and talk down in his brain how special this one guy is so he doesn't do anything silly, tell himself it's just any other guy... but it's still always going to be there, hovering in the background. and god does pecco really want to beat him
#pecco very much 'girl who is “going to be okay”'-ing his way into the marc teammate relationship#y'know pecco said somewhere that one of his hobbies is reading sports autobiographies#and I would love comparing notes with him on casey's. like surely it's fairly likely he's read it right?#the pecco/casey axiom is great. he does sometimes come out with stuff where I'm like. wow that's so casey-coded#when he said at assen that he really liked how the crowd was less partisan than at montmelo and mugello?? casey's daughter right there#inherited casey's surliness and valentino's inability to be fast on a friday. truly their best traits#in some ways this is the closest we'll ever get to seeing casey/marc at honda but they'd shoot u in the streets if u said that out loud#//#brr brr#batsplat responds#actually i've had the casey autobiography thought a lot but come to think of it i'd also love to chat to him about valentino's#maybe he's read agassi's!! that's got to be one of the most famous ones surely#pecco buddy would you be interested in a book club#current tag
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
VIXEN — HAN SEOUL-OH
2. chapter two — "heart-to-heart"
series masterlist
A/N sorry everyone for the delay, got caught up with school - anyway, here's chapter two, hope you like it <3
◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤ ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤ ◢◤
The sun bore down relentlessly, casting waves of heat that seemed to dance off the cracked pavement. Beads of sweat formed on my brow and I let out a breath but remained focused, my hands steady on the wheel of the 86’ Honda Civic. I sat patiently, my eyes fixed on the men across the street, their movements deliberate as they loaded duffel bags into the sleek black SUV.
Come on, let's go already.
As they finally finished — thank fucking God — and climbed into the vehicle, I fired up the engine of my own car and reached for the burner phone, fingers dancing over the screen to dial Dom's number.
"Four's on the move," I murmured into the receiver before hanging up, my attention shifting back to the road as I subtly tailed the SUV.
Minutes ticked by, the world blurring past as I kept a safe distance and weaved through the bustling streets, the black SUV never far from my sight. Then, like clockwork, I spotted a familiar 70s Dodge and beat-up Nissan idling at the intersection ahead, and I briefly glanced to my left, catching my brother staring at me. A sudden sense of realization crept into the back of my mind. I shook my head, scoffing. Our plan was working.
Another heartbeat later, and we split off in different directions, each of us playing our part. My heart raced, fueled by adrenaline cursing through my veins when Tej's voice crackled through the radio on the passenger seat, his words slicing through the tension.
"I know y'all said they were consolidating the money somewhere, but, y'all ain't going to believe this."
◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤ ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤ ◢◤
I stood under the scorching midday sun, squinting against its relentless glare as it beat down on the streets of Rio. The heat was oppressive, mirroring the tension that hung thick in the air around us. My eyes narrowed as I caught sight of the imposing building ahead, its stone facade gleaming in the sunlight — a freaking Police Station.
The irony wasn't lost on me, and I felt a wry smirk tug at the corners of my lips. Police officers bustled in and out, seeming oblivious to the criminal activity unfolding right under their noses. I wanted to scoff at the whole situation. Hernan Reyes, the notorious drug lord, hiding his ill-gotten gains right under the nose of the law. It was audacious, I had to give him that. But it also made our job that much more difficult.
"Well," Brian muttered under his breath, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, "this job just got a lot harder."
“No kidding,” I chimed in, standing beside him and crossing my arms over my chest, my expression a mix of amusement and disbelief, “We’ll have to get even more creative.”
Rome's voice cut through the tension, his disbelief palpable. "If he's moving it into a police station, he's got some serious brass in his pocket."
"Looks like this is going to be a shorter trip than I thought," Santos said in Spanish, his tone heavy with defeat and resignation. Leo's agreement was swift and vehement, "Hell, yeah, we can't do this."
“'Can't'? You mean, 'shouldn't,'" Han’s words sliced through the conversation, drawing my attention. I turned to him, a flicker of surprise at his perspective dancing in my eyes. A small smile passed between us before I quickly turned away, squashing any flicker of conflicted emotion this man’s smile stirred within me.
Before I could dwell on it further though, Dom's voice broke through the internal turmoil. "I say we stick to the plan."
"You say what?" Roman's incredulous voice broke the silence, injecting his trademark skepticism. His words drew my attention, and I turned to him, intrigued by his reaction. He looked at Toretto as if the man lost his mind. Couldn’t blame him.
"This just went from Mission: Impossible to Mission: In-freaking-sanity," he continued to exclaim, his frustration evident in his tone.
I exchanged a knowing glance with Brian, a small smirk playing at the corner of my lips. Roman's dramatic outburst never failed to entertain.
"Whatever, man. I ain't scared, I'm just letting you all know, going in that building is crazy," he finally declared. With a shake of his head, he turned and walked away.
My brother followed his suit as he muttered, "I got this.”
Aware of the moment of silence and a whispered conversation between Leo and Santos, I stepped closer to Dom, the midday sun beating down on us, casting harsh shadows across the pavement.
"Don't worry about him," I said, my voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Pearce is a full-time drama queen, but he'll come around. Besides, we’ve faced crazier situations than this before."
Dom nodded, his expression still serious. "Yeah, but this time we're walking into the lion's den. Reyes isn't going to make it easy for us."
I couldn't deny the truth in his words, but I had to maintain some semblance of optimism.
"True, but that's never stopped you before. You've always found a way to come out on top,” I replied, my tone firm, injecting a note of reassurance into my voice that I hoped would bolster his resolve.
"We gotta make sure everyone's on board before we move forward,” he said, his gaze scanning the scenery ahead of us. He seemed lost in his thoughts as if this job put more pressure on him than anything ever before but he’s been like that since I’ve met him. I guessed losing the love of your life had that effect on you.
I’ve never gotten a chance to meet Letty. It was ironic actually because my brother met up with her quite often in our apartment during her undercover work to take down Braga but I was either out with friends or working. Brian sometimes shared a few stories about her from the time when he wanted to make a detective, how he always thought that Letty had seen right through him but she never said a word. Things would’ve been different if she did. That’s why in some kind of a twisted way, I owed her.
"Agreed," I affirmed, crossing my arms on my chest and then shrugged, following Dom’s gaze. "No biggie. Just remind them of the 11 million they're getting."
My attempt at levity didn't go unnoticed. I grinned and watched as a brief crack in his serious demeanor appeared and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Bullseye.
It was good to loosen up a bit, especially during moments like this, so I liked to think that sometimes optimism was the best thing one could ask for in times of struggle. And I was here to provide it.
Because God only knew how much I needed it.
◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤ ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤ ◢◤
The dimly section of the warehouse cast shadows across our faces as we gathered around the table. Out of pure coincidence, I stood beside Han, my senses on high alert while the place seemed to shrink with every second that went by. I felt like I was sixteen again, having a crush on a boy who helped out in Brian’s garage part-time, only to find out he was gay and worked there to ogle my brother. Tough times. Learned my lesson, never again.
That’s why irritation grew inside me like a parasite and the uncomfortable feeling of awkwardness washed over me as the scent of his perfume lingered in my senses and my attention was divided between the man to my right and the task at hand. His presence was like a magnetic force I couldn't ignore, even as I desperately tried to focus on Mia’s briefing.
"The beauty of public offices?” She leaned over the table, a roll-up in hand, exposing the blueprints of the Police Station we wanted to break into. I was aware of the fact of how ridiculous it sounded. “Public records."
Brian's finger jabbed at a point in the labyrinth of walls and measurements. "This is where he's keeping the money. The vault in the evidence room."
“Um. Uh, yeah. Can I get everyone's attention, right here, for a second?” Tej interjected, raising his finger. “We're talking about breaking into a police station.”
Silence fell upon us as everyone waited for him to elaborate. “Is anyone listening to those words? Anybody? Popo? Five-O. One-time. Pigs. People we don't like.”
He’s got a point.
"You know, police stations are designed to keep people in, not out,” Han spoke calmly, glancing toward Dom, who observed with a cautious and sharp gaze. I could almost see gears turning in his head like the man was coming up with a detailed plan on the spot.
My brother nodded in agreement. "That's why it's a stealth mission. We'll be in and out before they even know we were there."
"Well, we'll need to get eyes in there,” I chimed in, already getting an idea of what we could use. Or rather who. “At least to find out the make and model of that vault."
"So the vault and then, so…” Roman muttered probably to no one specifically, seemingly lost in thought, making a sudden, weird gesture towards the papers. “It's crazy. Who's supposed to do all this?"
Without missing a beat, I exchanged a knowing glance with Brian before turning to Pearce. Another wave of silence settled between our group as the man in question looked around, bewildered by our sudden focus on him. I raised my eyebrow, waiting for him to realize what was going on. His eureka moment occurred a second later.
"What do you mean? Why me?"
"Because you got the biggest mouth,” I stated matter-of-factly as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. My smile was sweet as honey when I earned a scoff from Tej, a couple of snickers from the others, and a very offended stare-down from Rome.
◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤ ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤ ◢◤
The sun cast hues of orange and pink across the sky as I stood alone on the rooftop of the warehouse, the wind whispering against my bare skin. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to relax, even if just for a second. It was moments like these that made me forget the troubles that constantly haunted me.
Brian, Tej, and Rome had gone to the station to get an idea of what exactly we were about to encounter and it was nothing that we hadn’t expected already, so Santos and Leo had taken over to blow up a few pipes in the main bathroom. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see these two smiling like Cheshire cats when they heard what their job was. It was safe to say that I had my doubts but hey, gotta be positive, right?
Just as I began to lose myself in the beauty of the scene unfolding in front of me, my phone interrupted the moment with a sharp ding.
“There goes my peace,” I muttered to myself. Sighing, I pulled the phone out of my pocket and glanced down to see a text from an unknown number flashing on the screen. My brows furrowed and I quickly unlocked the screen, my eyes going back and forth as I read the message that immediately sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine.
Have fun in Brazil, love. I’ll see you soon.
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, igniting a surge of anger and panic within me. It was like the wind got knocked out of me and my heart sank as painful memories flood back, memories I've tried so hard to bury from a time when I had been naive and desperate. I never told Brian how badly I’ve struggled after I’ve moved to London. I didn’t want him to know about that part of my life where I made mistakes that almost cost me my life.
Those first few months after my move, when I was vulnerable and alone, struggling to make ends meet and juggling between studies and two jobs, were terrifying. My brother was gone, disappeared without a trace, I was hit with the enormous amount of assignments and I was about to be evicted from my apartment.
Then I met Owen. He appeared like a savior, dazzling me with his charm, his sophistication, his extravagant gestures that seemed straight out of a fairy tale. Back then, I had been naive, craving affection and stability in a city that felt alien and hostile.
I thought I loved him. He had swept me off my feet with his lavish dates, his expensive gifts, his promises of a life I had only ever dreamed of. And as simple as that, I had fallen. Oh, how I had fallen, head over heels, straight into his trap. I hadn't even stopped to question the sincerity of his words or the intentions behind his actions. I was too enraptured by the illusion he had crafted around me, too desperate to believe that someone like him could truly care for someone like me. Someone so insecure and scared.
I didn’t realize who he was until it was already too late. The facade had slowly begun to crack, revealing the darkness lurking beneath the surface. And then, when I finally dared to confront him, to demand the truth I had been too afraid to seek, he’d shown his true colors. The subtle manipulation, the way he always seemed to know just what to say or do to keep me ensnared in his web. I was so blinded by the illusion of love that I never stopped to question the price I was paying.
And I’ve paid a fortune. I’ve paid in tears shed in the dead of night when I thought no one was watching. In missed calls from my friends, whose concerns were silenced by Shaw, and in the gradual erosion of my self-worth, chipped away bit by bit until there was almost nothing left. It was a miracle I’ve managed to leave him, but I wouldn’t be able to if it wasn’t for Hilly and Jessie.
Now, a fury surged through my veins. I wanted to throw my phone against the concrete floor, to scream out in frustration and defiance. But instead, I took a deep breath and forced myself to ignore the message, to push it aside like I've pushed aside so many other reminders of my past. If he was going to try and get me, I’d welcome him with open arms and a gun pointed at his head.
With a sharp exhale, I dismissed the text, refusing to let fear consume me. The hatred I’ve felt towards Shaw had reached a level that could no longer be described with words but with actions.
As I stared at the vanishing sun, lost in my thoughts, I was abruptly startled by the sound of footsteps approaching behind me. Instinctively, my body tensed, ready to defend myself against any potential threat. But before I could react further, a familiar voice broke through the tension.
"Quite the view, isn't it?"
Han's voice was calm and reassuring, instantly soothing the frayed edges of my nerves. Slowly, I turned to face him, my heartbeat gradually returning to its normal rhythm. He had a small smile engraved within his stoic expression.
I nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Yeah, it is."
"Brian sent me up here to find you,” he said and stepped closer, his presence comforting yet electrifying all at once as he stood next to me. “They're looking for you,"
Sorry. My crazy ex just texted me and almost scared the shit out of me. I felt like that would’ve been a conversation breaker, so instead, I sighed, tearing my gaze away from the horizon with a pang of guilt for disappearing without a word. Should’ve told someone I was coming here. "Well, you found me."
My gaze caught with his as his gaze lingered on me with an intensity that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. There was a brief silence between us, but it was not uncomfortable. Instead, it was filled with an unspoken understanding, a sense that Han saw right through the walls I've built around myself, and at that moment, I couldn't help but wonder what he saw when he looked at me.
I felt exposed under his scrutiny. It was as if he saw through the facade I'd carefully crafted, glimpsing the turmoil that lay beneath. Panic threatened to claw its way back into my chest, but I pushed it down, refusing to let it surface.
Swallowing the bitter taste that formed in my mouth, I decided to break the silence, my voice steady. "I just needed a moment alone.”
"I get it," he replied simply, his tone gentle yet reassuring. His dark eyes met mine, and a shiver ran down my spine. But beneath the surface, there was a tension, a hesitation that I couldn’t quite shake. This was dangerous. This… This whole situation was a disaster waiting to unfold and I couldn’t afford to let myself get too close. I burned myself once and I got a reminder of the consequences not that long ago. Fear gripped me tightly, twisting my insides into knots as I tried to suppress the memories of my past but I wasn’t brave enough to do so.
Instinctively, I step back, creating a safe distance between us. It's not that I didn’t trust Han, despite meeting him only a few days ago. I didn’t trust myself and there was something about our connection that both enticed and terrified me.
God, I was a mess, wasn’t I?
"Come on," Han's voice interrupted my tumultuous thoughts, breaking the spell that bound us in this moment of uncertainty. "Let's head back down."
I nodded silently, torn between the urge to flee and the longing to stay. But as I took a step forward to walk past him into the warehouse, heading towards the stairwell, I fought to ignore the ache that spread in my chest.
◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤ ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤ ◢◤
series masterlist
#brian o'conner#deckard shaw#dominic toretto#f&f#fast & furious#fast five#fast x#han lue#han lue x reader#letty ortiz
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
Honda BeAT Street DONAT Velg 12 Facelift 2024 Harga Terjangkau Alarm
Honda BeAT Street DONAT Velg 12 Facelift 2024 ., salam pertamax7.com, Honda BeAT Street DONAT Velg 12 Facelift 2024 Harga Terjangkau Alarm Link ponsel pintar ( di sini ) Salam Matic Mania Setelah Honda BeAT Street eSAF launching 20 Januari 2020 lalu, akhirnya PT Astra Honda resmi meluncurkan New Honda BeAT Street facelift 2024 dengan wajah baru dari tampang, body, striping, warna, harga dan…
View On WordPress
#2024 Honda BeAT Street#Honda BeAT Street 12 inci#Honda BeAT Street 2024#Honda BeAT Street Ban DONAT#Honda BeAT Street DONAT#Honda BeAT Street Facelift 2024#Mesin Honda BeAT Street#warna Honda BeAT Street
0 notes
Text
Guardian Angel
Chapter 4: Fly Me to the Moon
Summary: In your worst moment, Wanda is there for you.
Warnings: Trigger Warning—car accident, blood, injuries, hospital, surgery.
Word Count: 3k
A/N: This was an intense chapter. 😭 Shoutout to @arlana-likes-to-write for helping me with some dialogue at the end.
Guardian Angel Masterlist
On this gloomy Friday morning, you came to the decision that if you had a superpower, it would be the ability to fly. You could effortlessly soar above the annoying traffic and get to work on time. However, the sad reality is that you are no superhero. You can barely work the defroster in your car.
This morning, you woke up to the realization that your alarm had failed to go off. You had overslept and were now rushing to get ready for work. You had to forego your usual morning routine of sipping on coffee and listening to relaxing music, which usually helped you start your day on a positive note. Instead, you took a hurried shower and got dressed as quickly as you could. You had to get out of the door as soon as possible to avoid getting stuck in the morning traffic. The rain outside only added to your sense of urgency. As you drove across town, you couldn't help but worry about getting to work on time. The Candy Bar had recently become increasingly busy, especially with the start of the holiday season. You were hesitant to leave Harper to handle the rush all by herself.
Rain lashed against your windshield. The windshield wipers whipped back and forth over the window of your black Honda Acura, attempting to clear away the large droplets clinging to the glass. Wary of the number of cars around, you gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. As you approached the intersection of Second Avenue and Crosby Street, your traffic light turned green. You began to cross the threshold of the intersection when suddenly, a green car to your right rushed through the intersection at full speed, presumably trying to beat the red light. It happened so fast that you barely saw it coming out of the corner of your eye. You quickly slammed on the brakes and tried to turn the car to avoid a direct collision. The sound of your car's screeching brakes and tires skidding on the wet pavement shattered the silence of the street. In that split second, images of your life flashed across your mind like a slideshow. You saw yourself as a child, your high school graduation, your first day of college, and the day you opened The Candy Bar. All these moments seemed to flash before your eyes as you struggled to regain control of your car. But it was too late. Your car was struck with a tremendous force, causing it to flip once, then twice before landing upside down in the middle of the street. The last thing you remembered before the airbag deployed was the sound of shattering glass and the distant sound of cars piling up. Everything went black after that.
*^~^*
Natasha was undeterred by bad weather. She ran like clockwork every morning, converting her emotional pain into miles covered. She had a warrior spirit that never quit and knew that training was the key to success. Even off the clock, her training stayed with her, making her more alert, confident, and always on the lookout for vulnerabilities.
Maria was better at compartmentalization. Outside of work, a run was a run. That’s why when they both awoke this morning to the relaxing sound of rain, she was keen to skip the run and cuddle in bed with Nat just a bit longer. Unfortunately, she did not win that argument. Which is how she found herself running down the street next to her better half in the rain; hoodie pulled tight over her head. The soundtrack of their morning was the splish splash of their running shoes as they pounded through the puddles that had formed along their usual route.
"Let's go one more block, and then we'll head back," Natasha shouted over the sound of the rain.
"Thank God," Maria whispered.
“What was that, malyshka?”
"Sure thing, sweetheart!" Maria replied, giving a thumbs up.
Amid a peaceful moment, a sudden, piercing screech shattered the tranquility. The two women turned their attention to the noise and were met with the terrifying sight of a black car hydroplaning wildly out of control through the nearby intersection. Their breaths caught in their throats as they watched in horror as a green car, careening recklessly from the opposite direction, slammed into the driver's side door of the spinning vehicle. The black car was sent flying, rolling twice before coming to a rest upside down in the center of the street. The sickening sound of metal bending and glass shattering echoed eerily through the rain-slicked air as multiple cars piled up behind it as if they had all hit an invisible brick wall.
"Call it in!" yelled Maria.
*^~^*
After dropping her boys off at school, Wanda pulled into her driveway when a call came through on her Bluetooth. She quickly answered the call from FRIDAY's interface, displaying the compound's number.
“Ms. Maximoff, there has been a multi-vehicle accident approximately 2.3 miles from your current location. There are possible fatalities and multiple injuries. The team is on the way and requires your assistance.”
“On my way.”
As soon as Wanda landed on the scene, she could see chaos around her. Bruce had arrived and was frantically setting up triage to tend to the injured. At the same time, Maria was busy establishing a secure perimeter to keep the bystanders at a safe distance. As emergency services rushed to the scene, the sound of distant sirens could be heard in the background, growing louder with each passing moment. Onlookers had gathered, their faces etched with worry and fear, as they watched the unfolding events with a mix of shock and disbelief.
“Where do you need me?” Wanda asked.
That car took the worst of it,” Natasha interjected, pointing to the overturned black vehicle in the intersection. “See if you can help Stark with the driver!”
Wanda sprinted to the scene and arrived at the car just as Tony touched down, quickly scanning for a heat signature.
“One occupant. Female, early 30s, multiple internal injuries, vital signs ready,” FRIDAY announced.
Wanda crouched down to ground level and tried to peer through the broken window. Droplets of water ran down her skin, making it difficult to see. Her breath left her body as she finally took in the sight before her. You were still strapped into the driver's seat; the airbag deflated in front of you like an old balloon. Blood was trickling slowly down the side of your bruised and battered face. Wanda stood up and frantically tried to open the upside-down door, but the frame was poorly bent out of alignment.
"Whoa, Red! What are you doing? There's a safer way," Tony shouted.
“I know her!” Wanda yelled.
A repulsor ray from Iron Man’s hand quickly cut through the hinge of the car door. Wanda reached inside and unbuckled you from the seat. A trail of blood followed you across the pavement as she carefully slid your unconscious body from the car.
"Please don't do this to me, y/n. I can still feel you," Wanda said, her voice trembling.
Sam quickly rushed to your side and applied pressure to your stomach wound, tapping into his military training. "I've got you, Wanda. Cap and Bucky need your help."
The redhead looked over to see two super soldiers working to pry twisted metal apart to free other drivers from their cars. She then glanced back down at you, her breathing uneven as she hesitated, not wanting to leave your side.
"Friday, please contact the nearest Level One Trauma Center and inform them of the situation," Tony instructed.
“Go!” Sam exclaimed.
Wanda swiftly cleared the debris from the center of the pile-up. Her magic making quick work of the scene and created a path for Steve and Bucky to reach the other victims. The relentless rain showed no signs of letting up, causing water to collect around the wreckage. After an eternity, Wanda finally returned to you, navigating through the maze of broken and battered cars. As she approached, she could see that you were still lying motionless on the ground, a few feet from your vehicle. Meanwhile, Sam and Yelena were working frantically to save you. Sam was applying pressure to your abdominal wound while Yelena was administering CPR. They were so focused on keeping you alive that they failed to notice the fuel leaking from your gas tank.
“Sam, Yelena!” she screamed.
Your car ignited in a flash of fire just as Wanda reached you again. The bright flash hit her eyes just before the force of the explosion knocked the three of them back. She acted purely on instinct, containing the explosion in a sphere of glowing red energy. Dropping to the ground in exhaustion as the blast was diffused.
"Well done," Steve praised as he helped Wanda to her feet.
"Where are the first responders, Hill?" asked Bruce.
“The rain and the pile-up are making it difficult to get through. I’m working on it.” Maria said.
“She can’t wait. We need to get her out of here now,” Sam cautioned, removing his undershirt and packing your wound.
“I’ve got a pulse,” Yelena announced.
"St. Peter’s is the closest hospital," Kate said.
“I’ll clear a path,” Clint offered.
"No," Tony interrupted. "Take her to the compound. Get her to the MedBay. I'll notify Helen." He locked eyes with Wanda.
She looked into Tony's eyes, searching for insincerity, but found none.
“FRIDAY, run an X-ray and CT scan to assess spinal stability,” he ordered.
“The spine is stable, boss,” FRIDAY replied.
“Take her,” Tony ordered.
Wanda picked you up tenderly and vanished into the weeping grey sky. If she hastened, she could reach the compound within five minutes. Wanda prayed silently that you would hold on for that long.
A sharp intake of breath brought you around as searing pain surged through your broken body. A mixture of blood and water hit your tastebuds. Your vision was blurry and your hair was falling wetly in front of your eyes, but you could just make out Wanda’s face staring down at you. Her eyes began to glow red, and you felt the same sense of calm wash over you as the day you met her.
“Stay with me, Y/N. We’re almost there.”
Your eyes grew heavy as you succumbed to unconsciousness once more.
*^~^*
“Concussion, ruptured spleen, two cracked ribs, shattered collarbone, collapsed lung, fractured ankle.”
As Wanda stood there with tears in her eyes, her hands instinctively flew to her mouth, trying to suppress the gasp that threatened to escape her lips. She couldn't bring herself to accept what she was hearing, but as Dr. Cho went on reciting the list of injuries you had sustained, the harsh reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks.
“She’s in surgery right now. We can regenerate the damaged tissue with the cradle once she is stable. The nano-molecular functionality is instantaneous, but with the severity and number of injuries, it will take some time. Y/N will have a long road ahead of her to recovery.”
Wanda nodded, too afraid to say anything that might cause her to break down.
“Do you know if she has any family we should notify?” Helen asked.
“No, I don’t. I’m sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper.
“It’s going to be a long day. You look exhausted. Why don’t you try and get some rest?” Helen suggested, placing a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “I’ll have Friday notify you when there is an update.”
“No, no, I’ll stay. I need to call Darcy to see if she can pick up the boys from school, but I’ll stay. I want to be here when she wakes up,” Wanda said somberly.
Helen nodded in understanding before turning and walking back into the Operating Room. The redhead sat on the sofa in the corner of the Med Bay, unable to process everything that had transpired in the last hour. Her mind replays the image of your broken figure lying upside down and motionless in your car. She glanced down at the drops of your blood staining her shirt; the shock prevented her from feeling anything.
The sound of the rain outside continued to fill the room as Wanda sat in the compound waiting room. Nurses and doctors walked in and out, their faces unfamiliar to her. She sat there, anxiously watching the clock as one hour turned into two and then three. Suddenly, a text message from Darcy lit up her phone, offering to help with the boys for as long as she needed. Wanda felt grateful for the offer and quickly sent a reply thanking her. She took off her coat and balled it up to create a makeshift pillow. She curled up on one end of the sofa and let her gaze linger on the operating room door. The redhead felt her eyelids grow heavy, and she fell asleep within minutes.
A gentle nudge on her shoulder woke Wanda after half an hour. She looked up to see Sam and Yelena standing nearby.
“Mhmm, what are you guys doing here?” She murmured.
“We wanted to see how she was doing,” Sam said.
“Y/N”
“Y/N,” Sam repeated.
“How is she?” Yelena asked, taking a seat beside her.
I don't know," she said, dragging her hands down her tired face. "I spoke to Helen when they first brought her into the OR, but I haven't heard anything since. She's in pretty bad shape," tears threatening to fall again. "What happened after I left the scene? Were there any casualties?
“No, thankfully.” Sam shared. There were a few other serious injuries: broken back, internal bleeding, severe whiplash. The first responders could get through a couple of minutes after you left. Hill wants to meet with law enforcement to discuss working together to improve response times.”
Wanda struggled to speak, her words catching in her throat. "Thank you for what you both did for her," she finally managed to say.
Noticing your blood on her shirt, Sam placed his hand on Wanda's thigh and said, "I'll be back with a change of clothes for you."
"Can I ask how you know y/n?" Yelena asked softly once they were alone.
“She was… is, the woman I helped in the café, and I bought the candy for Billy and Tommy’s birthday from her sweet shop.”
“I see,” Yelena said. “Does she know you have feelings for her?”
Wanda was baffled as she asked, "What do you mean?"
"Oh, little witch. Don’t tell me you are that deep in denial?" she said, her voice laced with disbelief and concern. "We risk our lives daily to help people survive the worst moment. We are trained to do so with composure and presence of mind because otherwise, we risk letting our emotions affect our actions in the field," she continued. “You can't argue with that - it's the truth. I’ve fought alongside you for almost three years, and in all that time, I’ve never seen you react the way you did today. You care for her," the blonde said, her tone softening.
Wanda averted her gaze from Yelena, fixing it on an imaginary point on the dull white wall right in front of her.
“I barely know her,” Wanda sighed. “She doesn’t know me at all. Honestly, I’m not sure she should,” a single tear rolling down her cheek that she quickly wiped away.
“That is what you think, not what she thinks. Let her in. Sooner rather than later,” placing a loving hand on her arm.
"Wanda?" Helen interjected softly as she walked out of the operating room.
The redhead stood up anxiously. “Y/N is out of surgery and stable. It was touch and go at times, but she pulled through. She’s still under, but you can sit with her if you’d like. She's in Room 4.”
“Thank you, Helen. Thank you,” hugging Helen before looking back at Yelena.
“Go on, I’ll wait here.”
*^~^*
Wanda took a deep breath before opening the door to your room. The sight that greeted her was heartbreaking. Your face had bruises, and your hair was unkempt. You had a nasal cannula on your face, and there were several butterfly stitches. Your left arm was in a sling, and your right leg was in a cast below the knee, propped up gently on a pillow.
Despite your physical appearance, you looked peaceful. If it weren't for the steady beep of the heart rate monitor, she might've thought you were only sleeping. The redhead took a seat at your bedside, unable to take her eyes off you. Wanda could hardly believe she was sitting here. Three weeks ago, she didn't even know you existed. Now she was sitting in your dreary grey hospital room, praying you would wake up soon.
A young nurse walked into the room with a tablet in her hand. She recorded your vital signs and acknowledged Wanda's presence with a nod and a sympathetic smile. After leaving the room, Wanda was left alone with her anxious thoughts. She replayed your two brief encounters in her head and began to worry about your recovery. She couldn't recall you mentioning any family or significant other, which made her concerned about what your recovery would look like if it was true that you were all alone.
As you slowly started to stir, a barely audible groan broke Wanda from her trance. Hearing the sound, her head snapped in your direction. You felt heavy and broken all over your body, and when you tried to shift slightly, everything hurt. Gradually, the blinding light subsided, and you began to take in your surroundings, but you had no idea where you were or how you got there. Panic started to set in before a soft, sweet voice met your ears.
“Y/N, hey, hey… it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here.” grasping your hand.
You turned your head and saw Wanda's beautiful green eyes.
“Wanda?” Tears form in your eyes. “What happened? Where am I? What are you—?” Your raspy voice cracked and set you into a coughing fit. Wanda reached across your body and grabbed a cup of water sitting on the bedside table. Helping you to sit up slowly, she held the cup to your lips as you took small sips. She rubbed gentle circles on your back as the coughing subsided and your lungs relaxed.
“Easy, easy.. that’s it,” helping you lay back down. “You were in a car accident, y/n, but I promise you’ll be okay. You’re in the MedBay. It’s the hospital wing of the Avengers compound.” You stared at her for a few moments. Your brain was fuzzy, and you were having trouble understanding everything she was saying to you, “Avengers comp—what?” your voice hoarse and tired.
“I’ll get Dr. Cho,” reaching for your call button.
"No, no, wait, just wait," she did. She said you were in the Avengers compound, but that means, no, that's impossible. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t recognized her before. "You're an Avenger," you said slowly, her green eyes cast downwards to avoid looking at you. "Right?" You questioned when her silence wasn't a good enough answer. "That's the only way they would allow me in here."
"I am," she finally spoke but her eyes remained trained on the ground. "But I didn't want you to find out." You were a little taken aback by her confession. The stories that surrounded the Avengers were nothing short of heroic.
"Why wouldn't you want me to find out?" You questioned, voice barely above a whisper. "Being an Avenger is amazing. You are a hero. You-" you trailed off as you watched the woman sink into herself. "Wanda, why didn't you want me to know?" Sighing, she bit her lip and looked up at you.
"Does the town of Westview, New Jersey, mean anything to you?"
*Chapter 5 coming soon*
#guardian angel#wanda maximoff#wanda maxmoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x you#scarlet witch#the avengers#natasha romanoff#maria hill#tony stark#yelena boleva#sam wilson#bucky barnes#bruce banner#clint barton#kate bishop#helen cho#mcu#trauma#angst with a happy ending#comfort#Med Bay#avengers compound
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
「 ₊ ☆ ゚ park sooyoung, she/her, cis woman 」 INCOMING TEXT: omg hv u met JUNIPER “JUNO” CHOI of the NARIZA BOIS yet ? they’re one of the crew’s street racers n actually go by VIPER. the twenty7 y/o is typically seen hanging arnd track-one. allegedly they’re frm new york city , ny n hv been w/ the crew for TWO YEARS. wtvr. just watch out for them, k ? ttyl !
[ ✰ ] PINTEREST.
[ ✰ ] WANTED & ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS ( WIP ).
penned by HECATE ( she/her , 21+ , pst )
001. ↻ BASICS .
[ ✰ ] full name: juniper cordelia choi
[ ✰ ] alias / nickname(s): juno ( to everyone ), viper
[ ✰ ] age: 27
[ ✰ ] date of birth: 08/28
[ ✰ ] place of birth: new york city, ny, usa
[ ✰ ] ethnicity: korean
[ ✰ ] nationality: american
[ ✰ ] gender: cis woman
[ ✰ ] pronouns: she/her
[ ✰ ] orientation: bisexual / biromantic
[ ✰ ] language(s) spoken: english, korean, french, spanish, latin, greek
[ ✰ ] mbti: ENTP
[ ✰ ] element: air
[ ✰ ] zodiac: virgo
[ ✰ ] character inspiration: suki ( 2 fast 2 furious ), blair waldorf ( gossip girl ), lydia martin ( teen wolf ), gojo satoru ( jujutsu kaisen ), kate bishop ( marvel comics )
002. ↻ BACKGROUND .
NOTE: this is a quick summary / tldr of juno's background . for a more detailed bio , please CLICK HERE !
juniper “juno” choi grew up in the upper echelons of society in manhattan’s upper east side . she’s born into an influential family of automotive titans and shipping tycoons . despite the impossibly high expectations set forth , she always found solace in the summers spent in miami with her uncle . it’s there that she developed a passion for cars and motorsports . and even with her mother’s disdain for her developing interests , juno defies them and rebuilds her first project car , a beat-up honda s2000 by the age of 16 . she plunges headfirst into the world of street racing and over the years has cemented herself among the racing scene , quickly gaining respect for her abilities . however , that’s not without some hard-learned lessons from accidents that really reined in her ego . and at 24 , juno makes the move to miami for a fresh start . it’s there she quickly establishes herself as a standout drifter and ends up joining the nariza bois . now 27 , she’s become known for her innovative style and razor-sharp precision on the track .
003. ↻ HEADCANONS .
NOTE: this is a work in progress so more will be added at a later time !
it's kind of a lot so please visit THIS PAGE to view a list of headcanons !
10 notes
·
View notes