#ignore the fact that he has a hotel room for his home race

[mindtrcks]

asmr | CL16

Charles has been having trouble sleeping. Your videos seem to be the only thing that helps.

WC: 5.4k

Notes: performance coach!reader who dabbles in asmr (but only for charles <3), smut, phone sex/mutual masturbation.

Charles has been having trouble sleeping lately.

It could be because of timezones, or how much coffee he drinks. But it probably has more to do with the way he’s been watching the Drivers Championship slip further and further out of his grip with every passing week. But to admit that would be to admit that he’s losing control of the car, and with it, himself. To admit that would be to admit that there's nothing he can do about it.

So he claims that he’s merely been a little restless at night. He’s told to try calming teas before bed, so he does. But then he just has to get up and use the restroom. He counts hundreds of sheep without getting tired, and ocean noises and whale sounds just pound around in his skull until he turns them off. He tries picturing the schematics of the SF24 in his head until he has a perfect rendition in his mind. But then he thinks of how it feels to drag it back into the pits, and works himself up so much he can’t even close his eyes.

He’s growing more than just a little restless. He thinks he might be getting desperate.

—

“Have you tried warm milk?” Andrea asks him, when Charles shows up to training with bags under his eyes, yet again.

“Yes, no luck,” he answers. He doesn’t know a kind way to say that he’s tried everything that appears on the first five pages of google when he searches for insomnia remedies, including an American military tactic that’s supposed to work in ten seconds. (Charles has found it doesn’t work at all.)

Andrea makes a sympathetic sound and begins to guide Charles through a warm-up. His limbs don’t stretch as far as they would if he had gotten a good night’s sleep.

As he struggles, your voice calls out, from the corner, “Wait, he’s allowed to eat dairy?”

And that is something he is still getting used to. You, shadowing his sessions with Andrea. You’re preparing for your transfer to a team that shall not be named, as you like to say. Charles figures it must be a team that pays well, because you take the NDA quite seriously. When Andrea first told him about the arrangement, he worried it would be awkward, but he quickly found the opposite to be true. You talk quite a lot for a soon-to-be head performance coach. It’s comfortable. He likes your chatter, even if it’s a bit inane at times.

“Drink dairy,” he corrects, just to hear you huff.

The satisfaction is short-lived, though, because then Andrea’s hands are on his shoulders, pushing him further into his lunge, and deepening the burn in his thighs. “Milk is healthy,” Andrea tells you, sounding like a professor. Like he really thinks you don’t understand the merits of drinking milk. Charles just thinks you want to be difficult. “Also, he has an ice cream company.”

“Yeah, but I didn't think he started it for the love of ice cream. Plus, everybody makes it seem like drivers can only eat gruel. I need to shadow a nutritionist or something.”

Andrea lets him stand up, and instructs him to start stretching his arms now. “You don’t have to make the meal plan,” he says, once adequately satisfied with Charles’ form. “They can just find Dan—”

You interrupt him with a gasp and a rushed, “Shshsh,” not quite a shush, but something close. Like calling a cat. “You can’t say who it is,” you say, waving your arms. But then you freeze, and Charles can see the moment your face lights up with an idea. He knows, instinctively, that it can’t be good. “Wait. Charles, have you tried ASMR?”

He briefly debates lying, but he’s not sure he has a good enough poker face to get away with it normally, much less when Andrea pulls his arm up and introduces a new ache to the stretch. “I have tried, but it did not help much,” he admits, choosing to ignore both the delight on your face and the reserved judgment on Andrea’s. “It felt weird to have some stranger try to put me to sleep.”

“Ah, so you need your own personal ASMRtist, just for you?” you ask, eyebrows raising. Charles would feel shame, but he is just too tired. He watches you turn to Andrea and shake your head. “These drivers, man.”

Charles just sighs. Andrea makes his way to the treadmill, and Charles sighs again, this time with feeling.

—

He doesn’t think much of it, as he goes through the workout. Andrea works him hard enough that he doesn’t think much of anything at all. That is, until he’s doing crunches and your face suddenly appears above him, grinning down. “I could do it, if you wanted to try ASMR again. I could make you some, seeing as I’m not a stranger.”

At this point, Charles would try just about anything. Exhausted, and sweaty, and struggling to finish his set, he grunts, “Sure. If it is not a problem.”

“No problem at all,” you say, throwing him an exaggerated wink.

He’s lost too much sleep over the past few weeks to spend time parsing out whatever that means.

—

A week later, and Charles has honestly forgotten about the entire thing until you text him out of the blue on a Monday afternoon.

what kind of things do you like?

for your asmr :)

He stares down at his phone and tries to think of a reasonable way to respond to that. He has watched ASMR before, yes. It’s true that if it exists on the first five pages of google, he has already tried it. But all of the videos he watched were too creepy, or too loud, or again, too impersonal. He didn’t really discover anything that worked, except maybe for the lack of traffic in the background.

I like for it to be quiet, he sends, eventually. He’s not sure what else to offer. As he watches you type, he hopes that you won't put too much effort into this whole thing. Charles is not very hopeful that it will help in the first place.

well, yes!

i mean do you like talking? or water sounds or something?

I’m not sure, he types. And then, just to ease your expectations, adds, Honestly it will probably not work either way

have you no faith in me?

He doesn’t know how to reply to that, so he turns his phone off instead of overthinking.

—

It’s Wednesday night by the time you text him again.

for you, the message reads. There's a video attached, of course. He has to wait for it to download to his phone before he can see the cover image: you, sitting at a hotel room desk, smiling softly. Your hand is blurry in the frame, like you're pulling it back after pressing record.

He feels something tight in his stomach, a jump of anticipation. If his problem was the impersonality of the few videos he’s tried on YouTube, this would definitely fix that. The frame looks like something he might see if he were to do a video call with you. Something he might see if you were really talking to him.

Pressing play seems dangerous. He thinks it will probably not work, but there's the nagging thought in the back of his mind of what if it does? What if, after all the home remedies and melatonin and sleepless nights, this is what finally works? Your voice, your face, on a video just for him. How is he meant to deal with the repercussions of that?

It's a war within himself, whether to press play or not. The fact is that he needs to get sleep before free practice in the morning. But he cannot honestly say that watching your video would help any more than staring up at the hotel ceiling, counting the cracks and divots. Picturing sheep jumping over a fence, like his maman always said.

It is almost like his phone is singing to him, though. In a voice that maybe sounds like a siren’s or maybe sounds like yours.

He cannot help it. He presses play.

“Hi, Charles,” your voice whispers in the quiet of his hotel room.

Instantly, he panics and shuts his phone off. Much too dangerous, he thinks. The sheep will work just fine.

—

He wakes up feeling more exhausted than he has ever felt.

It’s bad, he knows. He hardly has anything to say to the reporters who try to talk to him before he gets in the car. Free practice is a nightmare, and he nearly crashes out in the middle of a flying lap. And then, of course, he has to sit through an entirely long debrief in which all that seems to be said is how he needs to be focusing more. Concentrating on what's important.

“Maybe you just need to get more sleep,” you offer, like you know, somehow, that he was too much of a coward to watch the video you sent. That you can see how he didn't even try.

“Maybe,” he agrees.

There are sympathetic faces, and then he’s sent back to the hotel early, with firm instructions to go to bed.

—

He tries to fall asleep on his own. He drinks tea and plays whale noises and even does yoga poses, which do nothing but aggravate his muscles, already sore from his incident in free practice.

In the end, there's nothing to be done. He rolls over and grabs his phone, resolving that, if nothing else, he will try. And even if it doesn't work, then he at least will know, and he can stop thinking about you sitting at that desk, whispering his name.

He presses play before he can convince himself otherwise.

“Hi, Charles,” you say, on the video. The room around you is dimly lit, the kind of yellow light in hotel rooms that makes everything look a bit hazy. You’re wearing your Ferrari polo, but you've pulled a zip-up over it. Charles always thought you looked very nice in red. He isn't sure if he's supposed to close his eyes or not.

“I know you’re probably only watching this ‘cause you’re desperate, so I’ll try my best.”

He watches you talk until you instruct him in a quiet voice to close his eyes, and he’s thankful for the clarification. It’s an easier instruction to follow than to just relax, like the YouTube videos say. It’s easier to follow your instructions, period, he thinks. He’s used to it, from your input in training sessions. Straighten your back, widen your stance, do two more. It’s rote, listening to you. And your voice is melodic, comforting. He listens contently as you tell him to count down from ten, and to guess whether you’re snapping with your left or right hand. You start making that sound you’d made at Andrea during his last training session with you, a hushed shshshsh, and Charles finds himself yawning.

Maybe it’s a trust thing. Maybe he finds himself getting tired because he knows he can fall asleep without worrying about you randomly screaming on the video, or interrupting the quiet with an ad halfway through.

Maybe it’s just because it’s you.

He’s asleep before he can come to a conclusion.

—

“You’re looking refreshed this morning,” you chirp at him, when you cross paths in the paddock.

He feels a flush rise high on his cheeks. I wonder why, he thinks. Outwardly, he admits, “Yes, I slept well last night.” And then, after a moment, adds, quieter, “Thank you.”

Your smile is softer than the usual grin you level him with. Still, he can tell you’re proud of yourself. “And you didn’t think it would work. See, Charles, your performance coach always knows best.”

He finds himself feeling grateful for your capacity for talking, once again. When he woke up, he was nervous he wouldn’t be able to hold a conversation with you anymore, or wouldn’t be able to force himself into acting normal. Now, though, it still feels just as easy. “You’re not my performance coach,” he states.

It gets him an eye roll. “Right, I’m your personal ‘ASMRtist.’”

You whisper the word, which he isn’t quite sure is a real word to begin with, and it’s almost like he’s watching the video again.

He knew it was dangerous clicking play.

—

With sleep, his performance improves.

It’s nothing miraculous. The car is still the car; the team is still the team. But it feels less like he’s fighting, or like control is slipping through his fingers at every turn. He starts to enjoy it a bit more, even during the rough times. Everything had felt so much worse when he knew that he could spend the entire day wrestling with the car, and wouldn’t even be able to sleep it off when the race was over. Now, he breathes easier knowing that your video is waiting for him.

You send him another, during the two weeks off in April, and then one more after his podium in Miami. He rotates through the three of them based on how he’s feeling, or how long he thinks it’ll take. (Sometimes, he feels a bit spoiled for choice, and starts brainstorming ways to pay you back.) Though he likes them all, he does have a favorite. The one you sent after Miami. You start it by telling him congratulations and saying that you know he’ll be on the top step soon.

It would be one thing if you mentioned his podium finish off-handedly, just the once. But no. The entire video goes on like that, soft encouragement sprinkled throughout, like a reward for racing well.

Whenever he watches that one, your voice follows him into sleep, where he dreams of you encouraging him to do other things, completely unrelated to racing.

—

His problem then becomes wholly unrelated to sleep, and completely having to do with you.

It’s like he’s pavloved himself into wanting to hear your voice, or see your face. He tells Andrea that he would not mind if you sat in on more of his training sessions, just so he can argue with you about the difference between cartwheels and somersaults, electric stoves versus gas, flying commercial or private. He gets to the garage early to see you warm up the mechanics, a thinly veiled excuse to watch you doing squats. He doesn’t put his headphones in while he walks around hospitality, on the off chance that he’ll get to hear your voice.

He once wondered what the repercussions of watching your videos would be. Now, he knows.

—

Monaco is a dream that cannot be deterred by his growing obsession with you.

Charles has been finding it hard to keep his eyes dry ever since the last lap. His mechanics pull him into a hug, and he feels like he’s flying. Arthur is there, crying. Charles never thought he could do it. Jumping into the water feels like victory. It is victory.

There will be a big celebration, he is sure.

You’ll be proud of him, he is even surer.

—

He’s not thinking about sleeping until you find him outside of his drivers’ room, and take him by the shoulders. “I told you you’d do it,” you say, pulling him into a hug that’s tight like a vice-grip.

His voice is muffled by your hair when he says, through a throat still tight with tears, “I am glad I got a good rest last night.”

You laugh as you pull back from him. It is hard to see through the wetness in his eyes, but he thinks he can see a similar shine in your own. He’s not sure what to do with that. There are all these people who are so proud of him, and now you’re one of them. Now you’re holding his shoulders and crying with him. It’s nice. He feels cared for. He wants you there after every win.

“Well, I’m glad to be of service,” you say. “I’m not sure when you’ll be going to bed tonight, but call me if you need help sleeping, Charles. Among other things.”

You punctuate your sentence with a wink, and then you’re gone, leaving him with the memory of your grin at the front of his mind, like an image burned into a TV screen.

—

He is going out tonight. The whole of Monaco will be celebrating him. The team will be waiting to greet him with open arms and open bars. People will want to pour some more champagne on him, and get him drunk, and find a dance floor.

He is going out tonight, but right now, he’s sitting alone in his hotel room, thinking about what you had said.

Among other things, accompanied by a wink. A wink. That’s flirting, he thinks. No, he knows. You’re flirting with him. You had winked at him when you first offered this whole arrangement, too. Charles hadn’t known what it meant. Hadn’t really cared. Now he wonders if you were flirting with him then, too.

It’s not so much of a stretch. You spend a lot of time with him, even if he has orchestrated most of it. It never seems like a chore for you to sit in on his training sessions. You gladly correct his form and tell him that he can take more. You’re a very hands-on performance coach, unafraid to touch him in places Andrea wouldn’t. Whenever Charles is alone in hospitality, you’re always quick to find him, eager to gossip about the mechanics or to share contraband pastries he’s definitely not supposed to eat. You make him the videos that started all of this. You tell him hi and congratulations and I’m proud of you. You talk to him in a quiet voice that he hears in his dreams now.

You care enough to cry over his win. Embarrassingly, that thought is what has him dipping his hand below the waistband of his briefs. He thinks he should not. He has places to be, soon. But he’s still a bit high off the adrenaline, and it’s been so long, anyway. If he is quick, it cannot hurt. This is what he tells himself, as he lays back against the pillow, and pretends he’s not thinking about you.

He doesn’t think of your lips, or your legs, or the way you look in Ferrari red. Or the way you would look as he pulls the Ferrari red off of you, ‘til you’re bare in front of him.

He’s not sure what compels him to pull up the first video you made him; it feels like a force beyond his control. Maybe it’s the memory of your grin, and your wink. Maybe he’s just crazy. Maybe he’s still just as desperate as when this all first started. Probably all of the above, he thinks, pressing play with as much shame as one can feel with their hand on their dick.

“Hi, Charles. I know you’re probably only watching this ‘cause you’re desperate, so I’ll try my best.”

You have hardly finished the first sentence when he closes out of the video with a shudder. Too weird, he thinks. He doesn’t want to tarnish the video. Or to use it for something you didn’t make it for. But now he won’t be able to stop thinking of you, or stop hearing your voice. He feels hot all over as he stares at your contact on his phone. You did say that he should call, even with other things. You had winked! Is this what you meant?

He is a race winner in Monaco. He decides to risk it.

“Hi, Charles,” you say when you answer, just like the video. Louder this time of course, since you’re not trying to put him to sleep.

It takes a moment for him to trust his voice. It would probably be easier if he stopped touching himself, but alas. He manages to get it out eventually. “Hello. You said to call if I needed help.”

“Oh, sleeping?” You ask, after making a shocked sound in the back of your throat that—in a different context—could be interpreted as something else. He has to choke down a gasp, and somehow, you don’t notice. “Wow, early night.”

He swallows, braces himself. “Not sleeping,” he admits. “You said I could call with other things, too.” His voice comes out so quiet with shame that he's almost surprised you can hear it all. You’re silent on the other end for a moment that seems to stretch into eternity. His hand stills where he had been touching himself as he waits with bated breath, half-expecting you to hang up on him.

You don’t. “Charles,” you say. There’s an edge to your voice that he’s never heard before, something vaguely scandalized and entirely too much to handle. He strokes himself, again, unable to stop himself, and hears you inhale sharply. “Are you—”

“I’m sorry if this is not what you meant. I can hang up.”

“No, no it's fine,” you say. He can hear shuffling across the phone. Just like pressing play on your video was dangerous, this is, too. Because now his imagination is left to run wild, and he wonders if you're in bed like him, if you're taking off the Ferrari polo, if you're touching yourself. “I've gotta be honest, I don't really—er, I haven't exactly done this before,” you confess.

“That's okay.” There’s a shy, nervous energy about you that he can feel through the phone. It's not something he’s used to; you're always the one with something to say, cocksure and easy. Maybe now it's his turn to take the lead. Maybe this way he can finally pay you back for all your effort in making him the videos. “This is something you want, yes?”

“Charles, I offered.”

And he supposes that is true enough. “Right,” he says, steeling himself. This is something he can handle. It's not like he's used to it by any means; it feels strange that you're not here with him, stranger that you’re doing this in the first place. But he can't exactly stop now. The slide of his palm against his dick feels nice enough on its own, but the prospect of you, on the other end of the line listening is something else entirely.

“What are you wearing?” he asks.

He feels like a dick even before you laugh out a shocked, “Jesus Christ, Charles.”

Still, he knows there are only so many ways that this goes. “It is how you do it!” he defends “I say ‘what are you wearing’ and you say—well, you know what you say.”

“But you know what I’m wearing. Ferrari shirt. Jeans. My uniform.”

He does know. He has been picturing you in red this whole time. But it's not as if he had asked out of curiosity. He asked so that he could tell you, “Yes, it’s probably not comfortable. You should take it off.”

He hears the sound of your throat clicking as you swallow. “Oh,” you say, really nothing more than a huff of air. It feels just as close to victory as jumping into the water.

“Tell me when you’re done,” he instructs, to the sounds of more shuffling. He can picture it, in his head. You, pulling off your shirt, ridding yourself of the jeans. Laying back just like him, waiting patiently for instructions. It’s becoming difficult to think through the blood rush to his dick.

“Done,” you say, plainly. He wants nothing more than to be able to see you, touch you. He wonders if your hotel room is cold, if you have goosebumps he could chase away with his hands. The thought distracts him, until you huff, “Charles.”

“Ah, sorry,” he says. It really is hard to think, especially when you're saying his name like that, breathy and soft and naked in bed on the phone with him. His dick twitches and he has to pull his hand away for a moment before continuing. “If I were there, do you know how I would touch you?”

The sound you make is almost like he’s punched you in the stomach. “You’re such a tease, just tell me.”

It’s easy to imagine, as he tugs on his dick. He’s not too proud to say that he's thought of this before. Maybe not over the phone, but you, with him, together. “I would take my time to thank you properly. I would touch your thighs, and your stomach first. Just lightly. You should, too.” He can tell you’re listening based on the way your breaths come in harsher. “Does it feel nice?”

“Yeah,” you answer, sounding dazed. Charles understands, deeply. He cannot believe this is happening, that you’re doing this with him, touching yourself the way he instructs.

You seem content for a moment, but when he doesn't specify anything further, it's not long before you seem to want more. “I could do this on my own,” you whine, a pitch to your voice that he never wants to stop hearing. He files the sound away in the same corner of his mind that remembers what you sound like talking him to sleep. Distantly, he hears the sheets moving beneath you, and can't help but to imagine you writhing on the bed, aching for more.

“I can hang up and leave you to it,” he threatens, with absolutely no intentions to make good on it.

The sound of the sheets rustling stops. “You’re not being very nice. Some 'thank you’ this is.”

You are a bit of a brat, he thinks. He should've known, really. You always seem to have something to say. But he certainly won't complain about it now, not when the sound of your voice is enough to make him believe that you’re there, that it’s you touching him, faster now, than before.

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Proper thanks are in order, right? You can touch yourself where you want to.”

Your breath hitches, and he can practically see you, on your bed, your fingers working expertly at yourself. “Are you?” you ask, and it takes him a moment to recall the line of conversation.

When he does, he chokes out, “Yes, I—have been.”

“Chivalry is dead,” you sigh out.

He still tries to defend himself, even as the sound of skin slapping against skin becomes more and more pronounced in the emptiness of the room. “I’m being nice! You help me to sleep so now I will help you to come.” He hears you squawk a laugh, but it quickly turns into something more like a moan. “Ah, see? I am helping.”

“You’re not doing anything.”

He briefly debates the merits of walking through the hotel sweating and hard in his underwear to find you. But he thinks the team leads at Ferrari would prefer if he did not. He supposes that imagining will work just fine, for now. “If I were there, I would use my mouth,” he decides. “You could sit on my face, I would let you.”

“Oh,” you say. He pictures you with your head thrown back, chest heaving, and hid dick twitches in his hand. “Maybe you are a gentleman.”

Eh, this is not very gentlemanly, he doesn't think. If he were a gentleman, he would've taken you to dinner, or something. Not called you with his hand already down his pants. Still, he says, “Yes.” And then: “You should put your fingers inside.”

It might be his imagination, but he swears he can hear it, the slick slide, muffled by the sound you make, a choked mewl. “Good,” he says, and he thinks your answering groan may be equal parts frustrated and aroused.

He has to adjust himself against the pillows. Holding the phone makes it awkward; he considers dropping it and putting you on speaker, but he doesn't think he's quite ready to be able to hear your voice and your hands your noises projected in the room. It feels more intimate like this, just for him. And he would have to open his eyes to put you on speaker, have to stop picturing you fucking yourself with your fingers, at his request. It's not an image he plans on abandoning soon.

He hears your breaths become heavier and heavier over the phone, accompanied by sounds that slowly drive him insane, moans like a pornstar’s instead of a performance coach’s. If this is what you are like just from your own fingers, he cannot imagine how nice he could make you feel on his dick.

“I would fuck you,” he says, after a particularly nice stroke. He feels a little crazy with it. He won't last much longer, he knows. You called him a gentleman but he might finish first. At this point, there's nothing he can do about it.

The little hah you say into the receiver certainly doesn't help. “That would be—I can't say I haven't thought about it.”

“What did you think about?” he asks. He has to know now.

You make a tortured sound. He pictures you trying to hide your face, or squirm away from your own hands. His hips buck into his fist; he pretends it's you.

“I don't know. Everything, Charles,” you confess, through heavy breaths. “When you would take your shirt off in the gym, I’d think of you fucking me on the equipment. You made it very hard to take notes. Sometimes I'd think of you, like, fucking me in your car. The car.”

“There is not much room,” he says, instead of examining why that thought nearly sends him careening off the edge.

“Knowing that is above my pay grade.”

“I could fuck you on the hood, maybe,” he hums. The image is—god, he’s really not going to last. “My two favorite things.”

The sound that comes out of you is a mix of his name, and several assorted swears, and maybe something about Ferrari firing you. But your voice is shaky and you gasp like it’s over, like you just made yourself—

“Oh, fuck,” he groans. “Did you—”

“Yes,” you squeak, like you're embarrassed. He didn't know you had the capacity. “Oh my god, Charles.”

It’s his name on your tongue that has him finally spilling his load with a shout that he hopes is mostly muffled by the hotel walls. He’s pretty sure Fred is the next room over, something he hadn't wanted to think about with his hand in his dick and still doesn't want to think about now, cum drying in his boxers and you catching your breath on the other end of the line.

“Is that what you meant?” Charles asks eventually. “When you said I should call you?”

You sound almost sheepish when you answer. “Yeah, but to be honest I didn't think you’d pick up on it.”

“I thought it might have been just wishful thinking. The adrenaline made me do it.”

“Well, you were very good at it. I think you could make better asmr than me.”

He shudders at the thought. He cannot imagine doing what you do, whispering to his phone camera and pretending it's you. He's grateful for your lack of shame, because he's not sure he’d be able to do it were the roles reversed. “No, I'll leave that to you.” And then, because he’s still running mostly off of adrenaline: “Maybe we can talk more later? In person?”

He can hear the grin in your voice when you answer. “I’d be mad that you're hanging up on me, but I think you may be trying to invite me to your party?”

“You know you're already invited. But maybe you could come with me?”

“It’s a date,” you answer, which makes Charles three for three on victories for the day. Somehow, this one feels the most monumental. Maybe it's because of the cum still drying in his briefs. “I’ll wear something more fun to take off than my team kit.”

—

You wear something that's honestly rather difficult to take off, but he quickly discovers that you're good with your hands, and layer, he discovers that ASMR is not the only trick up your sleeve to tire him out.

[greengoblinswifey]

When I Met you in that Hotel Room- Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you meet Nicholas Chavez during a solo vacation at a hotel pool. your flirtation quickly escalates into a passionate night together in his hotel room.

warnings— explicit content. unprotected sex, daddy kink, degrading kink, praise kink, ass slapping, possessive!nicholas, reader has a clit piercing, creampie, cockwarming, rough sex, oral(f receiving)

You had been enjoying the peace and quiet of your solo vacation. It was your second day at the hotel, a much needed break from everything at home. That night, after a day of exploring, you decided a swim was exactly what you needed before heading to bed. Wearing nothing but your bikini, you grabbed a towel and made your way to the pool.

As you walked through the hotel hallways, you stopped to take a selfie. The lighting was perfect, and the glow in the hallway made your caramel skin look radiant. You snapped the picture and sent it off to your little sister. She’d be thrilled to see you finally taking some time for yourself. Moments later, you felt your phone buzz in your hand, but before you could check it, you noticed a guy walking in the same direction as you.

He wasn’t bad-looking, in fact, he was really attractive, and you noticed he was glancing at you. He was tall, with brown eyes, and as you caught his gaze, you could tell he was checking you out. It wasn’t creepy, though. He seemed, intrigued. His eyes trailed over your body in your bikini, but he wasn’t being sleazy about it. You chuckled to yourself, rolling your eyes slightly.

“Not to be that creepy guy at the hotel, but you’re really beautiful,” he said with a sheepish grin, his voice deep and smooth.

“Well, you’re a little less creepy now that you’ve said that,” you teased back, trying to play it cool even though his compliment made your heart race a bit.

You both realized you were heading the same way and fell into step together. As you approached the elevator, you noticed how close he was standing to you, the air between you buzzing with an odd, electric tension. He was definitely throwing glances your way, and as the elevator doors closed behind you, it felt impossible to ignore.

You stared at the floor, trying to keep your cool. To break the awkward silence, you glanced at your phone, where a flurry of messages from your sister had come through. You furrowed your brow, confused as to why she had texted you so frantically.

Sis, OMG, do you know who that is?!

That’s Nicholas Chavez!!!

PLEASE ask for a picture!

You frowned, not immediately recognizing the name. Who was Nicholas Chavez? Before you could piece it together, another message from your sister came through with a TikTok link. You clicked it, and to your shock, it was an edit, a fan video of the man standing right next to you. The very same Nicholas Chavez. And oh my God, he was an actor? A famous one, apparently.

Your eyes widened, but you forced yourself to stay composed. You didn’t want to freak out or fangirl. In fact, you hadn’t even heard of him until just now. Instead of saying anything, you put your phone away and focused on the present moment.

When you arrived at the pool, you dropped your towel on a nearby chair and took off your robe, revealing your bikini-clad body. As you stepped toward the water, you heard a sharp intake of breath behind you. You turned to see Nicholas, Nicholas Chavez, you reminded yourself, standing still, his eyes fixed on you. He was clearly trying hard not to stare, but his gaze kept drifting over your figure.

You smirked at his reaction and chuckled softly. “See something you like?” you teased, your confidence boosted by the way he was looking at you.

Nicholas flushed a little and quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before finally taking off his shirt. And holy shit, he was hiding all that muscle under there? Your mouth went dry as you stared at him, your heart racing. His body was even better than the TikTok edits had let on. You could feel the heat between your legs growing at the sight, and you mentally cursed yourself. Not now, you thought, trying to get a grip.

You both slipped into the pool, swimming to opposite ends. The cool water did nothing to calm the heat between your thighs. As you floated there in silence, Nicholas spoke up.

“I’m Nicholas, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Nicholas. I’m Y/N,” you replied, your voice carrying softly across the water.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he said, his voice sounding sincere as he moved a little closer, cutting the distance between you.

You smiled softly, feeling a strange connection beginning to form between you two. There was something about him, beyond the fact that he was famous, that was pulling you in. The chemistry, it was all there, simmering beneath the surface.

The water felt cool against your skin, but the heat between you and Nicholas was undeniable. You stood there, trading glances, eyes locked, neither of you willing to break the tension. He moved closer, his body cutting through the water with an effortless grace. You could feel your heart beating faster with every step he took toward you.

When he finally reached you, his hand gently pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel the heat rising in your chest. His gaze dropped down to your lips, and instinctively, your eyes flickered to his.

God, kiss me already, you screamed internally, your breath catching in your throat. He leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours, but he stopped himself. You could feel his breath against your skin, and the tension was nearly unbearable.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, his voice husky, filled with restraint.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. But before he could make the move, you grabbed the waistband of his swim trunks, pulling him in, your back pressing against the pool wall. The space between you vanished as his lips found yours, slow and deliberate. The kiss was deep, full of need but laced with patience, as if he wanted to savor every second.

You let out a soft moan against his mouth, and that sound seemed to do it. His body pressed into yours, wet skin sliding together as you reached up to grip his hair, pulling him in closer. The kiss intensified, deeper, hungrier, as you devoured each other. His lips moved against yours in perfect sync, the taste of chlorine and desire mixing together. You couldn’t get enough.

Nicholas groaned as your bodies molded together, your hands tangling in his damp hair, and you tugged him closer, wanting more, needing more. His hands found your waist, gripping tightly as he pushed his hips against yours, leaving you breathless.

Finally, you both pulled away, gasping for air, eyes searching each other. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

"Do you want to come up to my room?" he asked, his voice low, filled with urgency.

You hesitated for just a moment, your pulse racing as the weight of his words settled over you. But the way he looked at you, the way his lips were still swollen from your kiss, made it impossible to say no.

“God yes,” you whispered, nodding.

Without another word, you both grabbed your towels, hurriedly drying yourselves off as you made your way to the elevator. The air between you buzzed with excitement, anticipation simmering. You could barely keep your hands off each other as you rushed inside.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Nicholas had you up against the wall. His hands were on either side of your head as he kissed you again, this time with a ferocity that sent a surge of heat through your body. You groaned into his mouth, and he responded by slipping his hands under your ass, lifting you effortlessly. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him, locking your ankles behind his back.

You could feel the hardness of his bulge pressing between your legs as he pinned you to the wall, his body grinding against yours. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses, and you let out a breathless moan as you tilted your head back, giving him more access. His hands gripped your ass tighter, pulling you closer as you rolled your hips against him, feeling the heat of his arousal through your swimsuit.

“Fuck,” Nicholas groaned against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “You’re driving me crazy.”

You grinned, tugging at his hair, bringing his lips back to yours. “Then stop talking and do something about it,” you teased, your voice breathy as you ground against him harder.

His hips bucked against yours, and you could feel the rough fabric of his swim trunks pressing against your core, and it only made you want him more.

“I’m gonna do a lot more than that,” he growled, his lips crashing against yours once more, leaving you dizzy with need.

The elevator dinged, signaling that you had reached your floor. He didn’t even wait for the doors to open fully before he carried you out, still kissing you as if he couldn’t get enough. You were breathless, panting against his mouth as he carried you down the hall to his room. The door clicked open, and you both stumbled inside, the tension only growing with every second.

He set you down just long enough to rip off his swim trunks. The sight of him, of his sculpted, wet body, made your knees weak, and you bit your lip, trying to suppress a groan. His hands were back on you in an instant, pulling you to him as he kissed you hard, backing you up toward the bed.

Nicholas gazed at you, his eyes dark with desire as he pulled your bikini top aside. His hands gently caressed your breasts, and he let out a soft groan. “Your tits are perfect, your whole body is perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, feeling your cheeks flush from both his words and the heat radiating between your bodies. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, a laugh bubbling from your throat as the tension momentarily lightened. He chuckled softly with you, but it quickly faded into another passionate kiss.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, sucking and biting as he left marks on your skin. Each graze of his teeth sent shivers through your body, and your moans grew louder when he reached your breasts, his mouth closing around one of your nipples. The sensation made you arch into him, hands gripping his hair as you held him against you.

Nicholas wasn’t done. His kisses traveled lower, leaving a trail as he moved down your stomach. His lips brushed over your navel piercing, and then lower still, to your bikini bottoms. You bit your lip, anticipation building as you watched him.

He pulled the straps of your bikini bottom down with deliberate slowness, revealing more of you. The moment his eyes landed on your clit piercing, his breath hitched audibly. He looked up at you, eyes blazing with lust.

“Fuck,” he swore, licking his lips. “Like I said, you’re so beautiful, so fucking sexy.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “After tonight, no one’s gonna see that pretty pussy,” he paused, his fingers brushing over your clit piercing, sending a spark of pleasure through you, “or that fucking clit piercing. Only I will.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a wave of arousal through you, and you bit your lip, already dripping with need. His words were enough to make your body pulse with desire, but you had no time to react before his mouth was on you.

He wasted no time, his lips pressing against your core, tongue darting out to taste you. The moment his tongue flicked over your clit, you gasped, your back arching off the bed as pleasure coursed through your body. He worked you with expert precision, alternating between long, slow licks and fast, teasing flicks of his tongue over your piercing. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself growing wetter with every second.

Your hands found his hair, tugging him closer as you bucked your hips against his face. “Oh fuck, daddy,” you moaned without thinking, and the moment the word left your lips, he groaned into your pussy.

His tongue worked even faster, and he pulled back just long enough to look up at you, his chin glistening with your arousal. “You little slut,” he growled, eyes dark with lust. “Calling me daddy, making a stranger eat your pussy? You like that, don’t you?”

You whimpered, the words sending a thrill through your entire body. “Yes, oh, fuck, yes,” you panted, not even caring how desperate you sounded.

He grinned, the smug look on his face making your heart race. “Good girl,” he purred, before diving back in. His tongue circled your clit relentlessly, and your moans grew louder as you felt the pressure building inside you. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you like a man starved, and all you could do was writhe beneath him, your fingers tightening in his hair.

“Fuck, daddy, m’ so close,” you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper.

He growled again, and the vibrations sent you over the edge. With one final flick of his tongue, the tension snapped, and you came undone beneath him, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

“Cum for me, baby,” Nicholas whispered against your pussy, and you cried out as your orgasm rippled through you, your thighs shaking as he worked you through it.

As your breathing slowly evened out, he pulled back, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I told you… only I get to see that,” he murmured, his voice full of possessive satisfaction.

You lay there, panting, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. But even in your blissed-out state, you managed to smirk up at him.

“Maybe, daddy,” you teased, “if you’re lucky.”

Nicholas smirked at you, eyes dark with lust. “Oh, if I’m lucky?” he echoed, his voice dripping with dominance. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “If I’m fucking lucky? No, I said no one else gets to see you like this.”

His hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, ruin every other man for you,” he growled. “Ruin you for every other man.”

His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper as his eyes raked over you. “I’d let you suck my cock like the whore you are, make you swallow every drop of my cum, have it simmer inside you,” His fingers lightly brushed over your trembling body. “But I need that sexy little pussy first.”

You watched as he reached to grab a condom, but you quickly stopped him, breathless. “I’m on the pill,” you whispered, biting your lip. His reaction was immediate.

His grin widened, eyes gleaming with excitement as he tossed the condom aside. “Fuck yes,” he growled, and before you could react, his hand wrapped around your throat, not squeezing too hard, but enough to make your pulse race. He dragged his tongue up the side of your face, groaning like a man possessed. “I’m gonna fuck you raw, baby. You’re mine.”

You shivered as he positioned himself, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes widened when you looked down, suddenly realizing just how big he was. You hesitated, a flicker of nervousness crossing your face. He noticed and paused, leaning down to kiss you softly, his lips gentle against yours. “It’ll fit, baby,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “I’ll take care of you.”

Before you could respond, he thrust the tip inside you, and the feeling had your back arching instantly, a loud scream escaping your lips. The stretch was overwhelming, filling you in ways you hadn’t imagined.

“I know, baby, I know,” he soothed, his voice deep and husky as he kissed along your neck. “It’s okay, you can take daddy’s cock. Be a good slut and take it for me.”

You nodded quickly, your breath shaky as your legs trembled. His hands gripped your thighs, pinning your legs behind your head, spreading you wide for him. The position gave him deeper access, and you gasped as he slid further inside, filling you completely. His cock throbbed inside you, every inch making you feel deliciously full.

He didn’t stop there. With a low groan, he started to move, thrusting deep and hard, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room. His hand moved down between your legs, fingers expertly rubbing your clit, the piercing catching the pads of his fingers. The combination of his cock and the relentless stimulation of your clit was almost too much.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled, his hips moving faster. “This pussy was made for me, only me. No one else is gonna fuck you like this.”

You moaned loudly, your body trembling beneath him as the pressure built inside you. “Daddy!” you gasped, your hands gripping his arms tightly.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his thumb brushing over your piercing again, sending jolts of pleasure through you. “Cum for me. Be a good slut and cum for daddy.”

Your legs shook violently, and you felt the tight knot in your core finally unravel. With a loud cry, you came hard around his cock, your pussy clenching tight as waves of pleasure washed over you. He groaned loudly, thrusting deeper into you, riding out your orgasm as you trembled beneath him.

“Good girl,” he muttered, watching your body convulse from pleasure, his fingers still teasing your oversensitive clit. “You’re fucking perfect.”

Nicholas kissed your neck again, his lips trailing down your skin, sending shivers all over. Without warning, he lifted you properly, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist. With one powerful thrust, he slammed you onto his thick cock, the sudden stretch making you gasp loudly.

“Oh my god,” you moaned breathlessly.

He chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your ear. “Not God, baby. Me,” he growled, gripping you tighter. “Your daddy. I’m the one fucking this pussy. My pussy.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer, as he held you there, trembling. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, stretching you out, filling you to the brim. Slowly at first, he started moving, lifting you up and slamming you back down on his cock. Every powerful thrust made your body jolt, your voice growing louder with each movement.

“Daddy,” you screamed, grinding against him, desperate for more. His thrusts grew faster, more intense, and you felt yourself nearing that familiar edge, your body trembling uncontrollably.

“Fuck, yes, grind on me, baby,” he panted, slamming you harder onto his cock. Your body responded, and before you could even speak, the pressure inside you erupted. You screamed, your entire body shaking as you squirted all over him, your juices splashing down his abs and dripping down his legs.

He groaned in pleasure, looking down at you with a grin. “Such a good girl,” he rasped. “Such a dirty little slut, squirting from a stranger fucking you.”

Your breath was still shaky, but he wasn’t done. He placed you down on the bed, but before you could even arch your back, he grabbed your legs. Your body hovered off the bed, only your upper half resting against the mattress, and he positioned himself behind you. Without hesitation, he thrust deep inside, slamming into you relentlessly.

You screamed in pleasure, feeling him reach so deep inside you, your moans echoing through the room. “Does daddy’s dick feel good?” he growled, slapping your ass roughly, his grip on your hips tight.

“Yes, daddy! Fuck me harder,” you begged, your voice barely coherent through the pleasure.

He responded with even deeper, rougher thrusts, his cock hitting all the right spots. You moaned louder, overwhelmed by the intense sensation, your body rocking with each thrust. When he slapped your ass again, you couldn’t hold back, and your body exploded once more, creaming all over his cock as another orgasm tore through you.

He groaned, his pace faltering as he followed right behind you, his thrusts becoming erratic. You felt the warmth of his cum filling you up, spilling deep inside, making you tremble in pleasure as your body relaxed.

Nicholas collapsed onto the bed, pulling you on top of him, your bodies still connected as he cockwarmed you. His hands gently cupped your tear-streaked cheeks, his lips brushing over them. “You did so good, baby,” he whispered, his voice soft now. “You’re so beautiful.”

You let out a soft hum, snuggling into his chest, feeling completely blissed out. He shifted, smiling. “I should clean you up,” he offered, his hand brushing gently over your back.

You shook your head, sighing contently. “I just want to cuddle.”

He laughed softly, pulling you closer. “Alright, baby. But we’re getting up early,” he said with a smile, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back. “I want to do this right. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

You smiled, feeling warmth spread through your chest, the perfect end to a wild night. You soon drifted off in his arms but not before snapping the picture your sister asked for. You had to turn on DND to silence the frantic messages she sent as soon as she saw the picture.

[f1fantasys]

My first ever fanfic, hope you all enjoy ❤️

'...and, and, and with Lando'

Angsty/Smut w/ Lando Norris

You'd been in a relationship with Lando for a year now, known him for 6 years prior. He was the most amazing and caring boyfriend you could have ever asked for. Being a Formula 1 driver, it meant Lando was away from you a lot more than that of a normal couple. Still, your love for each other made it work. You relationship with Lando had its ups and downs, but you always found your way back to each other, loving the other more than ever. You traveled around the world following Lando as much as you could, but it wasn't also so easy to just up and leave your home and be away from/wfm all the time.

Things with Lando had been great, however you recently noticed him becoming more distant. When you were away from each other, he would only respond to your texts with one or two word answers. You hardly ever face-timed- he was always too busy. You thought it was just a phase, and that things would eventually get back to normal. His races were recently not the best and only seemed to be getting worse.

You were currently with Lando in Belgium for one of the races. You'd arrived last night, hoping to have a quiet night in with your boyfriend, however he hardly even acknowledged your presence. He said he had an important dinner to attend, with his mate Charles, and he left you alone in your hotel room.

Later that night, you'd been scrolling on Twitter when pictures surfaced of a very drunk Lando and Charles, out at a nightclub, with some girls in the background. It was odd for them to have got out clubbing considering it was a race weekend, but what made you more upset is the fact that he left you alone to go have some fun with friends and GIRLS.

You tried to stay up for him, but he was just not showing up. Around 3am, you heard the hotel door open, and a very drunk Lando walked in. You decided to ignore him and pretend you were still sleeping. Lando somehow managed to strip his clothes off, even in his drunk state, and pulled back the bed covers to see you sporting a t shirt of his, and just some lacy panties. He immediately let out a groan at the sight of you. He ended up cuddling you, and after a while you felt some kisses being peppered on your back and shoulder. He turned your body around and started leaving open -mouthed kisses going further south.

'Lando stop, its late and you have to up early tomorrow'' you stated. Something clicked, and his whole mood changed. He let out a scoff and said 'what's it to you? I have a race, not you, and maybe i wanted a good fuck from my girlfriend to get me in a good mood, but clearly you don't care about me.' Before you could even say anything back, he turned around, mumbling something to himself.

You wanted to say something back, but decided against it, after all, its not worth arguing with someone who is not in their right senses.

As you drifted off to sleep again, you couldn't help but think of a memory from a few months ago.

Lando and you were in Italy for one of the Grand Prixs'. You had a lovely day out at the track for quali, Lando placed P2, so naturally he was in such a happy mood, he could burst. You loved to see that side of him - he was proud of his achievements and he wouldn't stop boasting about how you were his lucky charm. He has also debuted a goatee that weekend, so to say he looked handsome was an understatement. He had always been the most beautiful person to you, but with his new look, he looked HOT. So fucking hot. And lucky you, you had him all to yourself that night. The two of you usually loved to fuck the day before a race (as if you weren't doing the nasty every other day). It really got the adrenaline going for him, and for you, well you would not complain at all.

As soon as you reached your hotel room, he shut the door and his lips were on you. 'You look so fucking hot in this dress Y/N, gosh you don't know what you've done to me today.' You smiled into the heated kiss. 'And you looked so poochie, as your twitter fans would say, with your little goatee. I hope it stays forever and ever', you replied. This quickly took a turn when he started kneeling down in front of you, while you quickly removed your dress. He was shocked to find you wearing no panties, only a lacy bra that barely held your boobs together. He smirked ‘so fucking pretty, princess’ and before you could react, you felt his tongue on your pussy. He licked and licked and licked until your legs were trembling. ‘So close Lan’ you murmured. You could feel him smiling while continuing his slaughter on your most sensitive parts. After a few minutes, he carried and dropped you on the kind size bed. He quickly opened your legs and resumed his activities. His thumb quickly found your clit and you heard him mutter a few ‘cum, cum for me princess, cum for your Lando’ and with that, you came undone. Lando, however, didn’t slow his activities. You quickly felt his finger enter you-one, then two and within seconds he was finger fucking you. You came for a second time, then a third. Eventually you had to tell him to give it a break. You were feeling overly sensitive, and that only made him prouder of his achievements for the day. He wore a smirk at the thought of over stimulating you with just his mouth, the cheeky bugger.

You decided to put on a movie while lazily lying together, when suddenly you felt his fingers drawing lazy circles on your thigh, getting closer to the place you already craved him (yes, even after 3 orgasms, not less than an hour ago). By now you weren’t concentrating on the movie, you know Lando wasn’t as well. You quickly jumped him, bringing your lips to his, both fighting for dominance. In the end, you won, he opened his mouth to you and your tongues tasted each other, not getting enough. You both started to remove each others clothes until Lando was left in only his boxers. You started grinding on him, feeling his cock get harder by the second. ‘Someone’s needy’ you cheekily said to him. Without a second thought, you were suddenly on your fours, with Lando behind you, entering you without warning. ‘Let’s see who’s more needy’, he whispered. He set a slow pace at first, feeling so proud at how you take him, feeling your walls clench around his dick, so nicely, so tight, and so wet. He pulled your hair, causing you to just be on your knees. He spat into his hand and put it out by your mouth. You knew what to do. You quickly licked his hand clean of his spit, earning a loud and sexy moan from him. ‘My fucking princess’ he muttered and he suddenly started slamming into you at a harder pace, giving you no warning. ‘Taking me so well. Rewarding me for placing P2. Praying for my first win tomorrow. My princess’. After a few minutes you started to feel your walls clench. ‘So close Lan’ you told him. His finger found your clit and before you knew it you were crying out his name, praising him. After a minute or two, your felt his warm splutter inside your walls and heard another sexy groan form the man you love. As he slowly slid out, he peppered you in kisses ‘love you love you love you’ was all you heard as you both fell asleep.

That was the last thought you had before you drifted off to sleep.

You awoke the next morning to an empty bed. Checking the time, you saw it was 8am. You saw that Lando’s phone and wallet were gone, which meant he wasn’t in the room. You shot him a text asking where he was and that you wanted to talk to him. The plan today was for f1 media duties. You were supposed to accompany him through the day. You decided to get ready and get some breakfast while waiting for him. At 10am, you received a text. Merely stating a quick ‘already at the track, see you later’. Your heart sank at seeing that he didn’t even ask you to come there and be with him. You decided to go to the hotel spa to relax your mind a bit. By evening, you hoped to get a dinner with your boyfriend. It was the least he could do after acting like a total dick.

He came in the room at 7pm, sent you a quick ‘hi’. He showered and started putting on some clothes. ‘Are we going out for dinner?’ You asked. ‘I thought you could maybe order some room service, I’ve got dinner with the lads tonight’. You didn’t have time to reply. He left to the room straightaway. Needless to say you cried yourself to sleep that night.

The next day was FP1 and FP2. You had woken up before Lando, and had been ready waiting for him. This way he couldn’t escape you. The morning was filled with awkward silences and barely two words being exchanged between the two of you. You arrived at the track around 12pm, and the day ended around 10pm. You hardly saw Lando, but it was nice to catch up with some of the other WAGS. You also learned that Lando and Charles each had 2 points deducted due to their partying two nights ago.

As the two of you reached your hotel room, you’d had enough. ‘Lan, what’s going on. You’ve barley talked to me since I’ve come, we haven’t had one meal together in the three days, you haven’t touched me or kissed me at all, other than your drunk state. What is happening. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? You seem to want to get away from me at all points of the day. We didn’t even hold hands waking into the paddock today’ you said, a few tears rolling down your cheek. He just sighed. ‘Can we not talk about this now, I have quail tomorrow and don’t need all this added extra stress. Stop being so needy. ’ You both had already eaten at the paddock(separately, that is). He jumped into bed and ignored you the rest of the night. Not even a cuddle. No reassurance at all.

Quali day was the same. Two words here and there but nothing. Lando had a good quali, after a long time, placing P3. But you had no energy to even start up a conversation again. To no surprise, the two of you didn’t fuck. The day before the race. You didn’t fuck. That says something.

Race day came and Lando finished with a good P3, keeping his quali placement. You hoped this would lighten his mood and that things could fall into place. Maybe the stress of the race caused him to act differently. Back at the hotel, you were getting ready to put clubbing. Happy that he’d said he wanted you to go with. You wore a sexy satin white dress that hugged all your curves in the right places. Deciding to forego panties, hoping to have a happy Lando later.

You walked into the club hand in hand. While Lando was getting your drinks, you drifted into thought about the last few days. Stressing about the race gave Lando no reason to act like a dick to you. You still wanted to talk to him about everything and clear the air. The night was going well. You chatted with some drivers and had deep conversations with the wags. Danced a bit. Just had a good night. After dancing for some time, you and Alex, Charles’ girlfriend walk up to the boys for a breather. There was no place to sit as Alex took the last chair. So you decided Lando’s lap was the best place. Plus you wanted to be close to him and to hold you. And that was the last straw. He immediately said ‘what the fuck Y/N. Can’t you leave me alone for two minutes. Fucking hell’. You were shocked. Not only was that rude, but he was rude to you in front of your friends. You needed to get away before embarrassing yourself with crying in front of everyone so you made a beeline for the door. You tried to breath through the cold air of the night and heard the door open. Any angry Lando emerged. ‘We’re leaving’

The ride back to the hotel was quiet. You could still feel the tears sting your eyes and you tried to keep as quiet as you could.

When you got into the room, Landon sat on the sofa and looked at you. Not in a sorry way, not in a sweet, loving way. But a way that threw daggers at you. He was angry. You’d never seen him this angry before. ‘Lan” was all you said as you sat down. ‘I think we need to break up’ he said. You were speechless. You felt your heart break into a thousand pieces. ‘Lando, what’s going on’. You could barely even talk. ‘Please don’t do this, talk to me. Tell me what I’ve done wrong. Or tell me how you think we can fix this. I can’t lose you like this. You’re the love of my life. You know that’ you managed to say through your tears.

His look wasn't angry anymore, just annoyed. ‘You’re so needy. Always needing my attention. Constantly texting and calling. I’ve had enough. I need to concentrate on my racing. Not on you.” Hearing this sounding like someone shot you. You could not believe that your Lando was saying this to you. He didn’t give you a chance to say anything. ‘I’ll get my PR to get my stuff in the morning’ he said. And walked out the door.

He left you in a pool of your tears. Not knowing where it all went so wrong. You waited and waited and waited for him to come back. Say he was wrong and apologize for everything that he said in a rage. But he didn’t. You fell asleep on the floor but the sofa. Waking up to a broken heart the next day. You tried to call Lando, only for it not to go through. You tried to call Charles, Lando’s best friend in the world of F1, but he was already on a flight home. You called Max F, to ask if Lando had said anything. He didn’t know what was going on.

You packed your things and tried to convince yourself that it was for the better. There’s no point being in a relationship where you are not wanted. You booked an early flight home (you and Lando were supposed to stay back for a few days). Once home you rang Ria, she worked with Lando at Quadrant and quickly became one of your best friends. She came over and you explained everything to her. You found out that Lando had blocked you on all socials. Blocked your number as well. You didn’t know what to do, you don’t know what you did so wrong that it seemed Lando couldn’t stand you. You were so confused. Years of friendship and years of love just to be tossed to the side without reason.

Max F came to visit you a bit later in the day. He said he talked to Lando but Lando wouldn’t say anything about you or why he did what he did. You felt like you had no more tears to cry. You were exhausted. Max stayed for a while before heading back.

A few months had passed since everything had happened. Everyday you tried your best to hold yourself together but how do you do that without the person who bought you comfort. You were lonely. You stopped meeting your friends, even your f1 friends. They would only remind you of him.

One day you were having coffee at your favorite local coffee shop. Sitting on your own, sipping your coffee, out of nowhere, you heard his voice. At first you thought your mind was playing tricks on you. You looked up to see the curls you so lovingly adored. His back was to you, so he hadn’t noticed you yet. Your body was frozen. You didn’t know what to do. Getting up would cause him to turn to see you, and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to see you yet. After a minute he finally turned. You were looking down at your phone.

‘Y/N’. You braced yourself and looked up. ‘Lando’.

‘Can we talk?’ He asked. ‘Sure’ you replied.

‘How are you? You look great’. You smiled a bit. You did not look great. And you were not ok.

‘I’m good’ you lied.

‘How are you doing’. He kept quiet for several seconds. ‘Not good. Letting go of you-‘.

‘Lando stop, I can’t do this right now’. You interrupted him. Your mind was racing and you immediately got up and left.

You tried to calm yourself down once you got home. Deciding to have a cup of tea, your put some water to boil. A knock at your door startled you. You looked through the peephole and saw none other than Lando standing at the other side of the door.

Contemplating what to do, you opened the door slightly. ‘What are you doing here Lando?’ ‘Please let me in, I really need to talk to you’.

Maybe letting him explain himself was the closure you needed. Carefully you opened the door and for the first time took in his appearance. He looked just as shit as you did. But he was still the most handsome man you had ever seen. You moved to the side to let him in and locked the door behind him. ‘Coffee?’ You asked. ‘Yes please’ he said.

The both of you sat at each end of the sofa. Not knowing who should start first or what to say. Lando started- ‘pushing you out of my life has been the most painful thing I could have ever done, and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, please hear me out’. You tried you calm your nerves while listening to him. All you wanted to do was erase the last few months and jump into his arms and never let him go.

He continued- ‘things haven’t been going my way recently. What with the car and my teammate outscoring me at races. I talked to Zak about it and he said I was letting our relationship affect my career and that I had to make a choice. Choose what’s more important. I shut him down of the idea for several months. He couldn’t make me chose between my love for you and for f1. The last few races towards our breakup had been the worst. You tried to be there for me and I keep distancing myself. Thinking maybe Zak was right and I should try not be with you and see how I race. Safe to say that was the worst thing I could have done. My races since then have been even shittier. I've had 3 DNFs in the least 5 races. But more importantly, my life feels so hopeless and incomplete without you. Y/N I am so so truly sorry for the way I treated you and for the things I said to you. If anything, I am needy one in our relationship and you are always there for me. To be happy with me or to cry with me, you stood by my side. And as soon as things got difficult, I blamed it all on you. Please know that I have always and will always love you with my whole heart and I hope you can forgive me some day. I understand if you need time to process everything but please know I will wait for you. However long it takes. You are the only person I want to be with. The only person I want to love.’

By now the tears are streaming down your face at full force. Cautiously, Lando takes your hand in his. You feel electricity travel through your whole body at the contact. You tried hard to think about what he said and to really believe him. But he was right. You needed time to think about it all. Even though he admits his mistake, there was a time when racing was more important than you. Do you give yourself in or do you deserve better than that?

‘Lan’ you started. Lando felt goosebumps just by calling him that. ‘I appreciate you coming here to tell me the truth. And trust me, I do want to believe you. I want to forget everything that has happened and continue to live our lives by each other. But I also need time to process. I can’t just drop everything and move on. What you did to me hurt me and I am still recovering the pieces from my broken heart. I don’t know if I am ready to risk it breaking down again. You are and always will be special to me but I just need time before we can become as close as friends even.'

‘I get that' he started before you interrupted him for the second time that day.

I also have to ask, that night out in Belgium with Charles - the photos-' your voice broke halfway through the sentence. 'What about all those girls you were with? Why were you with so many girls, when i traveled miles to be with you and you left me sitting alone in a hotel room.'

Lando sighed. he knew those pictures would come up someday. He needed to find the right words to say to you. To tell you he was never unfaithful. 'Charles and I were minding our own business in the club. Until those girls came along. They claimed to be fans but we both got bad vibes off of them. We immediately shut them down and tried to ignore them. We even moved to another area but they kept following us. Needless to say other people around got the wrong impression and started taking pictures of us. Nothing at all happened with them, I would never cheat on you Y/N. Even though i was acting like a total dick to you, i never stopped loving you.' I also want to apologize for my behavior when i got back to the hotel that night. What i did was so wrong and i can't stop beating myself up over treating you like that.'

All you could do was nod. You didn't know what else to say. You just needed time to think everything through, and most importantly protect your heart at all costs.

'Thank you for listening to me. Please reach out to me when you’re ready.’ With that he got up, kissed your cheek and left.

Needless to say you couldn’t function for the next few days. Your mind was in overdrive about thinking what to do. Of course you knew you still loved him. You wanted nothing more than to just go to him, hug him, kiss him, forgive him. That’s what your heart wants. But do you listen to your head or your heart?

About a week later Lando was at home watching tv (it was the winter break). With a few days to go before Christmas all he wanted was to be in his own space, comfortable silence. He heard the doorbell ring and ignored it. Until the person rang it again, and again. Frustrated, he got up and opened the door without checking the peephole. What he wasn’t prepared for, was you, standing there, looking as beautiful as ever, holding a mistletoe above your head. Lando couldn’t believe his eyes. Without thinking or saying anything, he pulled you into his house and out of the snow. You both stared at each for what felt like hours but was just a few minutes.

‘Well’ you said looking up at the mistletoe. ‘Are you going to kiss me?’ Lando gave you the biggest boyish grin he’d ever given you. And without wasting another second, smashed his lips to yours. You both stood there just embracing and kissing each other, tongues battling for dominance. The two of you knew that you still had things to talk about, re-assurance for each other (you, that you could trust him, and him, that you actually have forgiven him). He gently carried you bridal-style to his bedroom. He sat you down on the bed, suddenly doubting the next move he should take. You didn’t refuse him carrying you to him room, so you must want the same thing as him.

Right? Right.

You quickly pulled him flush against you, both of you ripping each others clothes off. ‘Missed you so much’ he said. ‘Lan I can’t live without you. I need you, always. I’ve missed you so fucking much it’s a miracle I got through these past few months without you. You are my life.’

As soon as you both were butt-naked, you rolled over so that you were sitting on Landos lap. You both had missed this view. You started kissing again. Landos hands found their way to you ass. Massaging it roughly, while you started grinding on his already hard cock. Your juices were already starting to cover him up. Lando lied flat on his back, and moved you to sit on his face. Boy had you missed his tongue on your pussy. He was licking and sucking and touching all of your most private areas. Not giving you any room to breathe. But in the best was possible.

After a few minutes an idea popped into your head. ‘Lan, hold on’ you said as you lifted yourself off him and turned your body around so you could take his hard dick into your hands. ‘Naughty’ you heard him smile, as he resumed his activities on you. Stroking him a couple of times, spitting in your hand and combining it with your juices that were already on him, you took the tip of his beautiful cock in your mouth. The thick vein at the side was what you missed the most. You sucked and licked what you could, pumping the rest of him in your hand. You almost gagged, having gone a long while without doing it. You’d almost forgotten how big he was. ‘Lan, m’ close’ you squealed. ‘Cum for me my love, cum into my mouth’. And with that, you came undone. He sucked up all of your juices. Then re positioned you on his lap.

‘Need you in me’, you managed to croak out. ‘I know baby, you’re still on birth control?’ You nodded. He lifted you up and and you felt yourself slowly sink down onto him. God you had missed this feeling. Him being buried deep inside you. You start to set a good rhythm. Not too slow, not to fast. Just perfect.

After a while Lando lifted you up and re positioned your bodies again. This time you were on your back and Lando was on top of you. You really missed having all his weight on you. He started slamming into you, harder and harder, fucking you. Fucking you after what felt like forever. Tears started stinging your eyes. You were in pure bliss and it was all because of a single man. A few minutes later you found you walls starting to clench around him.

‘Wait for me princess' his mumbled while you nodded. ‘Fuck Y/N I’m so close. I’ve missed you so much baby. I’ve missed you and I’ve missed this pussy of yours, that takes me so well. You let me fill you up so well’. And with that you both came crashing down, legs shaking, heavy breathing and small laughs at just how amazing that was.

After a few minutes, Lando gently slid out of you, earning a moan from you. ‘Just going to get you cleaned up baby’ he cooed. He got a warm cloth and slowly wiped all the mess you both had created. He returned a few seconds later, lying down on the bed, and pulled you to his side. ‘I’m still so sorry for everything Y/N, but thank you for coming back to me. I love you with all my heart and I promise to always keep you happy. Will you spend Christmas with me at my families this year?’ ‘Of course Lan, I’m so happy we found our way back to each other’ you said as you got up on one elbow and kissed his jaw. His lips quickly found yours and the two of you kissed and kissed and kissed until you both fell asleep, excited for what lies ahead.

Thank you for reading, I really hope you all enjoyed this! xx

[fuxuannie]

* pairing(s) : various hsr x gn reader

* prompt : kiss mwa mwa mwa (i dont write kissing this is an experiment)

* authors note : happy 1k followers & the fact my birthday is in 4 days! this little post is a treat and a thank you for supporting my ongoing journey as a writer. ♡ (i havent written more than 4 characters in so long T_T) gepard come home im begging you </3 (THIS WAS SO HARD TO WRITEEE IM SOBBIGNGGG)

DAN HENG's kisses are very short but he offers a lot of them, he's really nervous and he doesn't wanna show that so he tries to keep them brief. Like quick small kisses but he offers plenty so then you're happy.

However if you were to initiate a much longer kiss, he wouldn't mind. Just ignore how flustered he is, how hes mumbling under his breathe when you pull away and the small muffled noise he makes when you make contact again.

"Pretty.." Is probably what he's saying cause he'd have his eyes open to look at you and how pretty you look kissing him, and it makes his heart race and make him get even more nervous. He's kissing the prettiest person to ever live in his eyes, and hes just so HDHHDJSS.

I think GEPARD would religiously wear lipbalm, specifically flavored and specifically cherry. So when you kiss him, you'll get that very distinct and surprisingly comforting taste of cherry on your lips. It's built an odd addiction within you, kissing your boyfriend for as long as you could just to taste the cherry on his lips.

And how he looks when he's kissing?? It's engraved into your memory. How his cheeks and ears are turning red from fluster, how his usual stoic and serious expression melts to one of desire and pleasure as you two kiss in a random alley while he's on his very brief break cause what else would he want to do? Not be with you?

When you pull away he's PANTING for air, he's so flustered it's so cute and when you kiss his nose or anything of the sort he'll just cover his face and have to regain his composure for when he has to get back to work. His mind clouded with thoughts of when the next break may start, and he'll get to see you again and feel you again.

It also sparked this really weird thing to when you eat cherries, you miss your boyfriend. (actually with or without them you miss him)

JING YUAN is a man who plays with risks, actually he's more of a calculated planner (or he makes Fu Xuan do his calculated plans) but with you? And the way he's kissing you in an office with an unlocked door?

He's taking his time, almost inticing you with the idea of getting caught. Getting caught making out with the Jing Yuan during his most important work hours? You'd never admit it, but he knows that idea excites you.

He's very gentle though, intimate yet sweet with how he holds you and you rest your arms on his shoulder as he kisses you deeper and deeper. He even lets you play with his hair and when he opens his golden eyes to look at you with that desire-filled stare? You're melting.

"How'd your meeting go?" "Just fine."

I think CAELUS has really lazy and messy kisses, he's usually really busy and running around doing errands, so sometimes he just needs to unwind some frustration from working so much. He's making a mess of himself in front of you, desperate to just feel your kiss on his lips like a starved animal.

His hair is all over his face, his eyes filled with nothing but want, as he kisses you against his hotel room door the second he steps foot into the room. There's soft aggression as his noises are barely muffled by the door, you're probably trying to whisper something about people outside but he does not care at the moment.

However, the softest mumble of a 'Stop' will bring his actions to a pause. He respects you and never wants to do something you hate, so instead he'll settle with falling asleep like a cat in your arms. He may not be the most tame of the formerly mentioned, but he knows when to control it. <3

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ iii ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

masterlist.

“Are you feeling better now?” Lando asks, concern marring his handsome features. True to his words, he comes by your hotel room after he finishes the qualifying race. You don't expect him to. The race ended quite late in the evening and you're sure he has to prepare for tomorrow but he's knocking on your door by quarter to twelve and you let him in. He’ll start tomorrow in fourth position, he told you. You acted pleasantly surprised at his revelation as if you didn't watch an illegal livestream of the race on your phone earlier.

“Yeah,” you nod.

He lets out a relieved sigh, hand coming up to his chest, “Oh thank fuck. I was worried.”

“By the way, thank you for driving me home last night. I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“Did Jinnie tell you that?”

“No, it's in X. They saw you carrying me to your car.”

Your sleeping face on camera is going to haunt your dreams forever. The oily skin and your mouth hanging open. You don't sleep pretty. Knetizens like playing god, smiting everything not pretty, especially celebrities. You're not checking out Naver lately because you're scared of finding what's there.

“Were you doing something? I can leave if you're busy.”

“It's nothing important,” you wave your hand dismissively. “Just working on a song.”

Lando’s eyebrows rise to his hairline.

“You produce songs?”

You nod, humming.

“The reason I agreed to this PR stunt is to get publicity for my upcoming single,” you explain. You assume Lando already knows about it, the real reason why you're here. Despite that, you still tell him anyway. “Wanna hear it, boyfriend?”

“I didn't know you produce songs.”

“Well, now you know.”

He laughs at the dryness of your tone.

“Well, I’m glad you offered. I wouldn't mind listening.”

“It's all just basic melodies. Nothing concrete.”

You hand him a headphone.

“So you’re like KPop Charlie Puth?”

Lando takes the headphone.

“Please, I can't even compare to his producing skills.”

You press play on Demo_42.

You order hotel service food because he tells you he hasn't eaten and while you both finish the bowls of noodles, you converse with each other. Talking with Lando is easy, you find out. He knows how to keep the conversation alive and going despite the fact that you don't have much to say most of the time, that you frequently speak with finality. You praise him during the conversation once. He says he’s got practice from his teammate, who, like you, is a man of few words. He decides it is time to go back to his hotel at 2:50 AM.

“Thank you for today, boyfriend,” you say and if you sound too sincere, you like to think it’s because you’re a good actress.

A flustered laugh escapes his throat.

“I like the sound of that, girlfriend.”

A pause.

“I think I learned a lot about you today,” he scratches his nose and moves his hands as if he doesn't know what to do with them. “Thanks. For that.”

You wave your hand dismissively, as if to tell him that you don't need his thanks.

“Drive safe.”

“Good night, girlfriend.”

The WAG wardrobe of the day consisted of a Dsquared2 black suited jumpsuit and Versace crystal medusa ‘95 sandals of the same color. For accessories, you go with silver. Rings are your staple and earrings to pair. You don't wear a necklace.

When you reach for your racer jacket, a personal favorite that you think will absolutely be the highlight of your outfit with its white-red-black color combo, Jinnie stops you.

“Wear the McLaren one,” she orders, pointing at the McLaren jacket that sits on the couch. Orange. Bright. Easy to notice. It's almost as if it’s begging for attention.

You grimace.

“No.”

“[Name],” Jinnie’s voice holds warning. You ignore it. Obedience is not your strong suit.

“No.”

Despite your insistence, you end up leaving the racer jacket at the hotel and bringing the tacky McLaren one to the paddock. You secretly brought a black blazer and shove it inside your shoulder bag, which caused the bag to look like a Minecraft block. You pout childishly in the backseat of the car. You don't like orange.

“Stop pouting.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

You hear Jinnie sigh, exasperated.

“I can't with you sometimes.”

You ask Jinnie to drive by a coffee shop. You tell her what you wanted to get—an iced Americano with five shots of espresso and Lando’s coffee—and she leaves to buy it while you stay inside the car and patiently wait for her to return. She insisted on getting the coffee herself and you do not dare to complain. You like it this way anyway.

Jinnie, like the day of the FP1, drops you off at the same parking lot. You hop off the car.

“Text me when you need help. I’ll be nearby.”

You give her a thumbs up and Jinnie drives off.

It's night time but you pull a pair of sunglasses on, toss a ball cap over your head, and a face mask to cover the rest of your face. The McLaren jacket is tied around your shoulders. You don't want to wear it but Jinnie insists it has to be on your being. You're waiting for an opportunity to take it off, perhaps at the garage. You can strategically leave it on an empty chair or any flat surface and act like you have forgotten it.

You carry your phone in your right hand, your paddock pass and a paper zarf with two takeout coffees in the left. You send a quick message to Lando.

you: here

He replies not even three seconds later.

lando: coming

lando: same place?

you: okk heading there now

you: you reply fast

you: do you always hold your phone while in the garage?

lando: it's either i reply fast or i reply a week later take your pick

You let out an amused snort and lock your phone. You begin walking.

You freeze mid-step. The path you took on the day of the FP1 is filled with people. It's not supposed to be this crowded. This is a place far away from the stands and the track and the general admission area. It's also a good distance away from the team garages and the food stalls. It shouldn't be this crowded.

Your hands begin to tremble and become clammy. You lower your head, gaze fixing on the cement pathwalk. The people haven't noticed that it's you. At least, not yet. That's good. You can still leave and hide.

This is not what we planned, says your conscience. You're not a coward. Why are you running away like one?

I’m not a coward. If you say it as many times as you can, perhaps it will become the truth.

You turn around but begin to hesitate midway as you remember something.

Lando’s on his way. You can't leave now.

You swallow hard and turn back up front slowly. You let out a shaky breath and force your heart to become steady. You clench your hands into fists in an attempt to get them to start shaking.

They can't see my face, you assure yourself mentally.

Your hands, now fists, are still trembling.

I can do this.

You walk into the den of lions, not looking back even once. You take deep breaths underneath your mask. Inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth; it's not going well for you. The longer you perform the breathing exercises, the more you think you're going to end up with a public meltdown.

They're all looking at you.

You can feel their collective gazes.

“Is that her?” you hear someone murmur. Your shoulders turn tense but you keep walking.

“It’s her, right?”

“I don't think so. She could be just a random fan.”

“Wait, look at the jacket. It has Lando’s last name stitched at the hem.”

A loud gasp, “Is that his personal jacket?”

“That's her! That's [Name]!”

Someone snatches your cap. Your eyes widen. You hurriedly turn your head to the side. Your sunglasses fly off at the abrupt movement. Your panic intensifies and you feel the air in your lungs running away and your throat closing up. The same way the crowd closes up on you. None of them even grant you the mercy of leaving a tiny gap for you to escape through. You are but a sheep in a den of lions about to be slaughtered.

You see faces and the backs of phones all pointing at you. They're all screaming your name, excitement apparent in their loud voices. You don't understand any other word they're saying, only your name. The chanting of [Name], [Name], [Name]; the tone slowly shifts into eerie the longer you listen to it.

They hate you.

They hate you.

They hate you.

They always do.

If this exact situation you're in happened two years ago, before the scandal, you would have adored the attention. You know how to handle a crowd confidently, the best at it among all the members of ORACLE if you dare say so.

But now, the attention is just….

You want nothing more than to hide from it.

No matter how you try to convince yourself that you can handle it, that you can handle when everybody looks at you, you can’t. You try to control how your mind thinks but ultimately, it is your mind that controls your entire being.

Someone snatches the face mask off your face before you can stop them. Now, you feel too naked, too bare. You slap a hand over the lower half of your face, dropping the coffee cups and your paddock pass down on the ground. You hiss when the coffee burns your feet. A chorus of surprised yelps. A few curse words are thrown in the air. Because of the spilled coffee, the crowd parts. You see a space and you waste no time weaving yourself from the people to try and leave.

The gap disappears when a person blocks it and you halt in your steps, almost colliding with the person. Your chin snaps up and your eyes widen, terrified, when Kang Geon Ho’s familiar face smiles at you. Kang Geon Ho, the sun to your Icarus, the one responsible for your downfall.

“Smile, [Name].”

A camera lens appear. The camera clicks just as a hand comes up to block it. Before you know it, the camera is wrenched away from your face.

“Fuck off, mate. That's too close.”

You’ve never never been more relieved seeing Lando there again.

The crowd grows impossibly louder. You have to cover your ears with your hands so the sheer volume of everyone’s screams won't damage your eardrums. Your eyes met Lando’s worried ones. He's frowning, you notice. You see his mouth move. He's talking to you, but you're not hearing anything and you can't read his lips either. You figure he’s asking you if you want to leave with him so you nod, a little too eagerly.

You don't expect him to throw you over his shoulder and make a run for it, a surprised scream already making its way out of your throat as your hands grip his hair so you won't fall.

username: livetweeting from the paddock rn and i think i just witnessed smth bizarre. i think i just saw a driver (or was it a mechanic??? idk really) running with someone on their shoulder

username: is there a kidnapping going on inside the paddock??

username: girl it's lando and his girl

username: what 😭😭

Your chest rises and falls in quick breaths as you try to catch your breath. You're leaning against the wall, both hands pressing flat against the wall for support. Spots are invading your visions, not disappearing even after finally standing upright. The bright orange color of the walls isn’t helping you either. You think you're going to lose consciousness or vomit your brunch or both.

“I think she needs to sit down,” the brunette sweetheart says. She was already in the garage when Lando pulled up with you in tow, locking hands with the guy you recognized as Lando’s teammate. It's a no-brainer. She's another WAG like you.

“No thank you,” you say in between heavy breaths. You start coughing. Lando rubs your back in soothing circles. “I’m fine. Just… I’m anemic.”

You need to start fixing your sleep schedule at your earliest convenience. Need to start exercising, too. You're not even this unfit before.

“Lando, mate, come on,” Oscar berates. “Is your IQ a single digit number?”

“I was just trying to get her out, mate!” Lando defends himself.

Oscar’s girlfriend shakes her head at the two. She draws closer to you, taking your hand in hers and pulls you away from the busy part of the garage and towards the back.

“I think it's best if we move someone less crowded, hm?”

You hear Lando protesting but you don't bother glancing back at him as Oscar coaxes him.

The girl makes you sit down in a monoblock chair she found, hands you a battery-operated mini fan that she conjured from inside her tote bag, and takes the empty space beside you.

“Are you thirsty?” You shake your head.

“Just dizzy,” you sigh. “Thank you, uh….”

“It's Lily,” she smiles. Lily is such a perfect name for a girl as sweet as her. You dip your chin to a light bow.

“I’m [Name].”

You and Lily watch the race together. She is pleasant company. She only talks when she needs to, which makes you happy because you’re not a person who’s particularly fond of chit chat. You don't hide your confusion as you both spectate the races projected on the large screen; you don't know what's happening for half the race. Lily is kind enough to explain everything to you. You know, you can tell if someone is intelligent when they are able to dumb down complicated information and explain it to another person where the information is easily understandable. Lily is definitely an intelligent woman.

“You're so…” you try to find the right word. “... Knowledgeable at this. Like not just the race and rules but the engines and cars and—”

You move your hand and hope it conveys what you're trying to say.

Lily giggles, “I’m studying engineering so I understand how the cars work. Most of the time, at least.

Your mouth forms an O, amazed.

She’s the type of woman you’d bring home to meet your parents. Oscar, that lucky motherfucker. You turn your gaze back to the monitor.

“You?”

You chuckle nervously, “I-I didn't finish uni.”

“I’m not finished with university either,” Lily says and you appreciate the underlying message in her words—there’s nothing to be ashamed about if you didn't finish uni. But here's the difference between you and Lily. She's going to finish uni some day. You're never going to.

South Korea is known for their high standards in education and you once received backlash when you shared that you only finished a year and one semester in university before dropping out.

“Psychology,” you tell her. “One year and one sem.”

“Psychology is such an interesting program.”

“Yeah.” It's the only course that the scholarship program you applied to is willing to offer to you. You didn't choose it because you wanted to. You were so poor you don't even have the luxury of a choice. “Agreed.”

You continue watching.

“Oh that was smart of him,” you note. “The red one. He’s going to win.”

“Ferrari?”

“Yeah. The one in front of Lando,” you point out.

“I think Lando can overtake him. Or maybe one of the Mercedes since they got fresh tires while the first two are still using their old ones.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but the red one slowed down slightly until Lando was one second behind him. Then, Lando activated the DRS—that’s called a DRS, right?” Lily nods in confirmation. “And then that, uh… buffered the DRS of the fast black car behind Lando. So with that, Lando is able to defend his place but since he’s busy defending his place, he can't overtake the red car at the front.”

Giving yourself an advantage in the guise of helping someone. You rub your fingertips together in thought.

“Only three laps left. He’s going to win. Lando will either come second or third.”

“You’re quick at this,” Lily compliments.

You shrug nonchalantly despite feeling suddenly shy on the inside at the praise, “I try.”

“They used to be teammates, by the way.”

“Who?”

“Carlos and Lando.”

“Oh.”

You turn out to be right. The red car—the Ferrari and its driver, Carlos Sainz—wins the Singapore Grand Prix. Lando is a close second. Everyone inside the garage screams in pure ecstasy when he crosses the finish line and the checkered flag waves above the livery. You and Lily stand to clap your hands, happy for Lando. Lily’s boyfriend finishes seventh and you clap your hands for her, happy for her and her boy.

“Let's go to the podium, boys!”

You and Lily sit back down on your chairs so you can watch the ceremony on the screen but a mechanic comes by, tugs your arm, and says, “Come on! Your boyfriend is on the podium!”

Your eyes widen and you glance back at Lily, who grins widely at you and waves her hand encouragingly. Go, she mouths. You gulp and bend your head low as you make your way out of the garage and into the open. You lost your cap, your face mask, and your sunglasses at the earlier incident so you feel too bare. You want to go back to the garage. The garage is safer.

But you know full well that the world will question your absence. Why wouldn't a WAG support her boyfriend on the podium? They’d doubt your relationship and that's the last thing you need to happen right now.

You purse your lips and follow the other McLaren mechanics, speed walking while they all jog. You watch the awarding at the front row, strategically standing near a tall McLaren aerodynamic engineer so you can hide behind him once you see a camera panning in your direction.

Lando shines on top. Even if he's only second, he shines as if he’s the race winner. You're proud of him. You’re not acting this time.

You slowly clap your hands and smile in a way a girlfriend does when his boyfriend does something incredible—lovingly and in awe. All the people in McLaren watch Lando with proud faces.

He’s loved, you realize. Very much so. By his entire team. He’s his team’s prince. That's why they worked so hard in protecting him to the point that they'll hire a fake girlfriend to kill the rumors that damaged his reputation. And when a team loves their prince, the prince shines.

You used to be like this, too. HAN Ent used to love you like this. Not anymore.

He meets your eyes and they look gray and you notice how they widen slightly as if he didn't expect you to be here. Then, he grins, lifting the bottle of champagne as if he’s trying to show it to you. You give him a thumbs up and laugh, covering your face as you do so.

You return to the garage after the ceremony and the fireworks display. You and Lily wait patiently together for your boyfriends—your fake boyfriend but boyfriend nonetheless; you’re unsure if Lily and Oscar and any other McLaren staff employee besides the PR team are aware of the nature of your relationship with Lando—to finish the formalities of a post-race. The podiums, the interviews, and whatnot.

When they enter the garage, Lily immediately goes straight to Oscar, who meets her halfway and engulfs her in a tight hug. Your heart softens.

You turn to Lando who stands closely behind Oscar. He's looking at Oscar and Lily before he trails his gaze to you. Shrugging his shoulders, he opens his arms. You raise a single questioning brow.

“Come on, girlfriend.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“You're sweaty.”

“You don't see Lily complaining that Oscar’s sweaty.”

Lando inches towards you. You take a cautious step back.

“Lando, no.”

A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. You prepare yourself to make a run for it.

“Lando, no. LANDO!”

He breaks out into a sprint. Naturally, you also make a run for it, not wanting to hug a very sweaty Lando.

You tire yourself quickly and your heels put you in a great disadvantage. Naturally, Lando catches in his arms in just a few minutes. You struggle against his arms at first then later, you resign to your fate despite not liking the feeling of sticky and damp skins. You're not the fittest person and Lando is a high-performance athlete; you fought a losing game.

“Oh, right,” Lando pulls away but still remains holding your wrists. “The team is planning to celebrate tonight. Do you want to come with me?”

With me, you note. Not with us but with me.

“Raincheck?” You're not sure if you’re using the right word in the right context. Hence, the questioning tone.

“Not a party girl, aren't you?”

You shake your head, “I prefer working in my hotel room anyway.”

“Oh right…. The song….”

“Mhm, the song.”

Lando glances at your surroundings. The mechanics are packing up everything now.

“I mean, I can miss the party.”

You raise a brow, confused.

“Why would you want to miss the party? You're second place today.”

Lando makes a weird noise that sounds like it's between an amused laugh and a disappointed groan, “Don't remind me. But yeah, I can miss it. Oscar already went with Lily anyway. I think it'll be suspicious if I spend the night partying instead of going with you, am I right, girlfriend?”

You roll your eyes, though not unkindly. He is right, you suppose.

“Besides, PR scheduled a hard launch today.”

Ah, dreadful hard launches. You need to make a new Instagram account just for Lando when you return to the hotel. It's a drag. You’ve never operated Instagram since 2021. You’ve kept burner accounts in Tiktok and X, formerly Twitter, but never Instagram. Not since the scandal.

“Okay."

Lando grins with glee.

“Come on, girlfriend.”

username1: IT’S CONFIRMED GUYS IT'S CONFIRMED

username2: AAAAAAHHHH F1TV HARDLAUNCHING THEIR RELATIONSHIP BEFORE ANY OF THEM CONFIRMS

username3: lando already did

username4: by accident 😭 does it even count as a hard launch

Lando snorts audibly from his place on the couch. You look up from your laptop and send him a confused look. You're inside your hotel room again, enjoying the silence while basking in each other's presence.

He shows you the tweet, making you cringe when you see your face on the screen.

“Did McLaren Racing tell them I was your partner?”

“I think so, yeah.”

You sigh.

“Well, it's nice to know they told everyone for us. At least, we don't have to do it ourselves.”

“Do I even need to hard launch you now?”

You shrug.

username5: lando wins p2 and girlie’s reaction was like:

username6: lmaooo why does she look so angry she be squinting at everything 😤 gurl never beating the bitchy allegations

username7: what kind of wag is this? she should just go back to south korea fr idk what lando sees in her

LandoNorris: Hi! To clarify, my girlfriend’s default face is angry but she's not angry, she's just confused. and she’s squinting because of astigmatism. She actually isn't sure what's happening because everything is so fast for her.

LandoNorris: And she's holding her bangs so it wouldn't fly away in the wind lol. She forgot to spray it this morning. Please don't misunderstand thanks.

username6: LANDO???

username8: lmao lando be suddenly remembering that he has a twt acc just to tell people not to badmouth his girl

username9: MORE LOWQUAL [NAME] SCREENSHOTS

username10: ugh she looks so annoying and fake fr

username11: get a life

Lando reports the hate tweet before he shows you your pictures.

“Your bangs are so thick. It's like you’re hiding a dozen secrets in there.”

You snort, “I might be.”

“What secrets?”

In the most serious, no nonsense tone you can muster, you say, “I killed my mother.”

Lando laughs.

username12: LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT BARK BARK

LandoNorris: 🤺🤺🤺

username13: i want lando’s girl 😭😭😭

LandoNorris: well too bad, she doesn't want you, she wants me

username14: LMAO CANT BELIEVE IM SEEING JEALOUS LANDO

username15: rip fuckboi lando, hello loyal and protective bf lando

LandoNorris: Well, cat’s out of the bag now 🤷

LandoNorris: But I'm still not very happy with what happened earlier before the race. Our relationship might be out now but it doesn't make it okay for all of you to gather around [Name] like what happened today. I sincerely ask everyone to respect us.

“Oh, that's a sick beat," Lando lifts his head.

“Sick?”

“I mean it's good. Good sick. Not like sick sick, fever sick.”

He’s saying the word “sick” a little too much.

“Woo, that wasn't very cool of me.”

“You're lucky I’m fake dating you even if you’re uncool.”

“Uh, rude?”

A phone ring interrupts you both. It's not yours.

Lando stands from the couch and walks away to answer the call on the balcony. You continue tweaking the bits. It still doesn't sound like it's worthy to be a single. This song has to be perfect. It doesn't have to be SOTY material, it just has to be the song. You have to make a mark to gain your relevance in the KPop industry back.

Lando comes back, his phone against his ear.

“Do you mind helping me out, baby?”

“What is it?” you ignore the way your heart wavers slightly because of the “baby.” It's not the word. You're used to hearing people call sweet pet names. It's just the way he utters it. You can't find a few accurate words to describe it. Affectionate? Soft? Real.

“My family kinda….wants to see you?” He pulls the phone away from his ear and covers the microphone of the gadget with his hand. He whispers: “They don't know we're fake dating and they just saw the race.”

“Oh,” you hurriedly fix yourself, straightening your hair and setting your laptop aside. Family wasn't in the list of the people allowed to know of the PR stunt. You're not surprised that Lando didn't tell them. However, you still didn't expect them to call their son over this. “Video call or…?”

“Video.”

You nod. You hurriedly smooth out the creases of your top.

“Do I look perfect now?”

“Beautiful.”

You give him a look. You won't accept anything less than perfect.

“You look okay, [Name].”

“I’m going to get my powder—”

Lando grabs your elbow, “No, you’re already beautiful. You don't need to reapply. Oh, look, hey Mum!”

Your eyes widen and you cover the lower half of your face with your palm as Lando moves the phone so the two of you can be seen on the screen. You shyly wave and his mother proceeds to scream. You jump slightly.

“Sorry, that was your sister.”

Lando laughs, shaking his head.

“You have a sister?” you whisper-ask.

“Yeah,” he holds up two fingers. “Two younger ones. They're Corales.”

Your eyes widen. Corale is the fandom of ORACLE. (You hate this name but that's what the company decided.)

“You're serious.”

“Dead serious,” Lando says. “That's why they called immediately. You're Cisca’s bias. Flo is OT7.”

You gape. You can't believe you're hearing this.

“I—”

Your surprise turns into horror. Lando's sisters are definitely aware of your scandal. As fans of ORACLE, they're certainly updated about it.

Shit.

“Let me talk to her. Let me talk to her. Oh my god, hiiiiii.”

You force yourself to smile and shyly wave at his sister. She squeals, excited.

“OH MY GOD, LANDO YOU FINALLY DID SOMETHING RIGHT IN YOUR LIFE.”

“Hey!” Lando barks. “Can you at least act like you respect me in front of my girlfriend please? Jeez, Cisca.”

“Let me see her—Oh my god, I will cry. Annyeong [Name]-unnie! Eotteohge jinaeseyo? Dangsin-eun neomu yeppeuda!”

You chuckle softly, “Hi, I’m doing well. Thank you for asking.”

“Your Korean is terrible.”

“Shut up, Kinder.”

“I think your Korean is wonderful. Lando is just being mean,” you say, making Lando gasp as if your words offended him. “I love your hair.”

She squeals again, delighted.

“She noticed my hair! Oh my god! I went to the salon today just to talk to you! Wait, you’re speaking English?”

“I can speak English, yes.”

You turn to Lando, “What’s her name again?”

“Cisca.”

“Cisca,” you repeat slowly, testing how it sounds from your tongue.

“She said my name!”

You chuckle.

“Kinder, you are never ever allowed to mess this up! If you break up with her, I'm going to break your legs."

Cisca gets shoved away and another girl replaces her on the screen. Ah, she must be Flo, you think. She and Cisca look alike.

“Hi [Name]!”

“Hi Flo.”

“Have I already told you I loved you?”

You're unsure how to respond, “Thank you?”

“That's enough,” Lando decides, moving the phone away. You hear a series of protests.

“No, no, that’s enough.”

“Don't gatekeep your girlfriend!”

Lando, like a brat, sticks his tongue out to the camera, “I will do whatever I want.”

“Is she going to be in Suzuka? I’m flying to Suzuka! I need to see her!”

“Bye Flo, bye Cisca, bye Mum. Tell Dad and Oliver I said hi.”

“Kinder!”

Lando playfully sticks out his tongue towards the phone and ends the call.

You can't help but feel relieved. You expected them to hate you. But they didn't. So you're grateful.

“That wasn't very nice. They still wanted to talk.”

“No. They just wanted to fangirl.”

You shake your head at him.

“By the way, you’re coming to Suzuka, right? With me?”

He said with me instead of with us again.

“When is that again?”

You can't remember dates very well.

“The 24th.”

“The FP1?”

“No, the FP1’s on the 22nd.”

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, “I have to go back to Seoul and talk to Yoon PD-nim.”

Further discussions about the whole agreement and situation has to be made. He sent you to Singapore only a day after accepting Yoon PD-nim's proposal. He didn't elaborate on the situation enough but has promised to explain after Singapore.

“I’ve never been to South Korea before.”

“You should come and visit then," you say, nonchalant.

“Okay, I’ll tell my manager I’m flying with you.”

You blink.

“Heh?”

Koreaboo: Former member of ORACLE, [Name] spotted today at Incheon International Airport with Formula One Racer boyfriend after the Singapore Grand Prix. Click the link to read more about this news.

koreabooo.com

“So you brought the boy along?”

“He brought himself.”

A heavy sigh goes past Yoon PD-nim’s lips. He lowers the paper in his hand to his desk. It's the revised contract with McLaren.

“What did they think about this?”

He’s referring to the contract.

“This isn't what was initially planned.”

“I know.”

“How did you get them to agree with your terms?”

Your terms, you note. His choice of words only remind you how alone you really are. The company is sending you as a soldier to a war you don't know how to navigate into and will do nothing to help you. They'll only wait for you to come back, either as a corpse or as a victor. If you return a corpse, they’ll dump you. Your contract is going to end in less than eleven months, it’ll be easy for them to do so. If you return a victor, they’ll reap all the benefits you sowed. You noticed a new McLaren in the parking lot today. Yoon PD-nim is already reaping benefits. If you're lucky, the only benefit you’ll get after this is a solo debut promotion and a contract extension.

“I did what I could."

You pushed a bluff and hoped it would go your way. Fortunately, it did go your way.

A proud smile appears on Yoon PD-nim's lips.

“I knew I was right in choosing you.”

He can never be so wrong.

A knock on the door ruins your concentration, causing you to draw a stray jagged line on the paper. You sigh, muttering a shibal beneath your breath. You do a quick glance on the time projected in your laptop—11:31 PM. You assume it’s Min Hee, a member of ORACLE who promised to come by earlier after her rehearsal for her solo in the upcoming MAMA Awards in November. It's still quite early to start practicing for the award show but Minhee always liked doing things in advance. When you open the door, your eyes widen.

It's not Minhee.

“Lando?”

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter four

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

warning . . . tbd )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . the timeline of races to football season is going to be a bit whacked i'm not going to lie to you all, but i think i've settled on going for what works better for the plot rather than how it happens in real life, so turn a blind eye to that please <3 )

After that night in the hotel room, Y/N and Mason tried their best to return to normal, however even though Mason had apologized, and Y/N had forgiven him; the pair didn’t really know how to correctly navigate their friendship now everything was out in the open. Could they go back to how it was before? Mason didn’t think that was likely, even if they wanted to. For that exact reason, they had not spent time together just the two of them since coming home from Spain. There had been a group party that they had both attended and hung out together at, but spending time alone was something neither of them knew how to navigate so it was avoided. That was until it was unavoidable at least; with the season rapidly approaching, Mason started to need the assistance of his, well his assistant. 

Y/N was thankful to get the call from Mason saying he needed her help with organizing a charity event, she missed her best friend. Even when they had seen each other at the party, there were so many people there they didn’t get to spend much time together. She did feel some apprehension as to how well they would be able to work together after everything, but thankfully 5 minutes into the workday and things felt like everything was back to normal. The pair of them had always worked really well together, and when that remained it was clear just how much it meant to them both. 

A little while into arranging the event with Mason, Y/N received a text that made her stomach flutter.  

Max Verstappen  

Hey Y/N, A little bit last minute but I’m in London tonight, I’d love to see you.  

Y/N hadn’t heard from Max since she got back from Spain, she had assumed that whatever spark there was between them was destined to just fizzle out. The timing and circumstances couldn’t be worse after all. Yet as she looked down at her phone, she couldn’t help but feel butterflies in her stomach. She had really liked Max when they spent time together during that weekend, and she did want to spend more time with him now. But it was complicated, her situation with Mason was complicated, the distance between her and Max was complicated. It seemed like everything was pointing towards that she should just ignore the message; apart from the fact that she really actually wanted to see him. 

. 

Nervously, Y/N hesitated. Her mind raced with thoughts about Mason, their evolving friendship, and the potential implications of seeing Max again. A part of her still harbored feelings for Mason, and the prospect of complicating things further left her in a state of uncertainty. But, after a brief internal struggle, she decided to go for it 

Fighting a hesitant smile, she typed a response. 

Y/N Y/L/N 

Hi, yeah I’m free tonight, would be great to see you. 

As she sent the message, a mix of excitement and anxiety flooded her. She couldn't deny the flutter in her stomach, but the prospect of seeing Max again also stirred a concoction of conflicting emotions. 

Meanwhile, Mason noticed Y/N engrossed in her phone, a subtle smile playing on her lips. He couldn't help but wonder who she was texting, and the hesitation to ask lingered. But, despite his curiosity, he opted to keep the question unspoken, allowing Y/N her moment of privacy. After his behaviour recently, he knew he needed to prove that he had changed and questioning her about who she was talking to would be the opposite of that.    

As they continued working on the charity event details, Mason couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N seemed a little distracted. Her mind, usually razor-focused on their tasks, appeared to be elsewhere. 

After they wrapped up their work, Mason, trying to lighten the mood, suggested a movie night. "Hey, want to do a movie night tonight?" he asked, a hint of anticipation in his voice. 

Y/N's response, however, caught him off guard. "I'd like to, but I'm busy tonight," she replied, avoiding eye contact. 

Mason's enthusiasm deflated, and he simply responded with a dejected, "Oh, okay." His assumption that she was dodging spending time with him sunk in, and a subtle disappointment clouded his expression. 

Noticing Mason's reaction, Y/N realized he misunderstood. She hesitated for a moment before deciding to set things straight. "Actually, I'm seeing Max tonight," she admitted, her tone carefully neutral. 

Mason's eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, is it like a date or something?" he asked, trying to sound casual. 

Y/N shrugged, a mix of uncertainty and honesty in her response. "I don't really know, Mason. We're just hanging out." 

Mason's expression shifted. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he held back, opting for a forced smile. "Alright, have a good time," he mumbled, a hint of disappointment still lingering. 

Feeling the weight of the moment, Y/N decided to address the unspoken tension. "We can do that movie night tomorrow if you're up for it," she suggested, hoping to salvage the plans and the mood. 

Mason, trying to mask his feelings, managed a half-smile. "Sure, sounds good." 

Despite the agreement, an unspoken layer of complexity settled between them. Mason knew that he had no right to feel disappointed that Y/N was seeing Max again, although strangly enough, that did little to comfort him. He didn’t even really understand why he felt this way, all he knew was that thinking of Y/N on a date with Max Verstappen made him feel like he had just swallowed a bunch of razorblades.  

Getting ready for a date that you didn’t know even if it was a date was not easy, as Y/N quickly found out. She truly did not know what vibe she needed to aim for, was it two friends hanging out casually or was it a real, romantic date? Y/N had absolutely no idea, eventually settling on the fact that it would be better to be overdressed than underdressed. She carefully selected an outfit, giving thought to every detail. As she applied a touch of makeup and styled her hair, she couldn't help but feel a growing sense of nervousness in her stomach. 

In the midst of getting ready, she noticed a text from Reece come through. 

Reece James 

Mason just told me that you have a date tonight?? Go you!! Let me know how it goes 

Y/N smiled to herself, if there was one good thing to come from the past few weeks it was the fact that her friendship with Reece had grown a lot. Before, they got along well but never really spoke to each other outside of group gatherings. But when Mason found out about Y/N’s crush and reacted badly, Reece had been there for Y/N and helped her a lot, and since then they had just gotten closer and closer. The fact that he cared enough to message her about it made her heart swell, although she did question as to why Mason told him in the first place.  

When Y/N arrived at the venue that Max had given her the address to, she had to take a second look to make sure she got the right place, it was one of the fanciest restaurants she had ever been to. The entrance of the restaurant was adorned with intricately carved wooden doors, their deep mahogany finish exuding an air of timeless elegance. As she stepped inside, the plush carpet underfoot whispered luxury with each silent footfall. 

The dim lighting of the foyer cast a warm glow, creating a sense of intimacy that enveloped the space. Ornate chandeliers, suspended from the high ceiling, glittered like cascading waterfalls of crystals, their reflections dancing on polished marble floors. The walls were adorned with carefully curated artwork, each piece contributing to the ambiance of sophistication. 

Moving deeper into the restaurant, Y/N couldn't help but admire the attention to detail in the decor. The tables, dressed in crisp, white linen, bore silverware that gleamed under the soft glow of candlelight. Crystal glasses sparkled in the ambient light, catching reflections of the flickering flames. 

If the restaurant didn’t make her nervous enough, the second she caught sight of Max waiting at their table she felt anxiety settle at the bottom of her stomach. She couldn’t help but second guess herself and her decision to come tonight. Max stood up to greet her as soon as he saw her with a dazzling smile plastered across his face, his eyes lighting up with genuine joy as he pulled her into a warm embrace. 

The dim lighting played on Max's features, casting a romantic glow that made the moment feel almost cinematic. His playful yet flirtatious tone conveyed a sense of intimacy as he admitted,  

"Hey, Y/N. I’ve missed you." The words lingered in the air and Y/N couldn't help but blush at the unexpected intimacy. "I missed you too, Max," she replied, the air between them charged with a subtle energy. Almost immediately she felt assured that she had made the correct choice to see him again.  

As the evening unfolded in the lavish restaurant, Max, still holding Y/N close in conversation, apologized for taking a while to message her. "I've been swamped with work," he confessed, a hint of regret in his voice. Y/N, appreciating his honesty, reassured him with a smile. "No worries, Max. I'm just glad to hear from you." 

They delved into the menu, ordering an array of exquisite dishes and selecting a fine wine to complement the evening. As they waited for their meal, the atmosphere between them remained warm and inviting. Max, ever the conversationalist, leaned in with genuine curiosity.  

"So, how have you been? What have you been up to?" 

Y/N shared the highlights of her days, mentioning that she was working with Mason earlier that day to arrange a charity event. Max's expression shifted slightly, as if he wanted to ask a question, but he chose to redirect the conversation instead. "That sounds like important work. Good on you. Do you enjoy your work?” 

Y/N sensed the unspoken curiosity but didn't press further. Instead, she answered, “I do yeah, working with Mason is great fun we get along really well. Of course, I never planned to be a personal assistant for this long; it was supposed to be a temporary job when I first moved to London initially but that.. Well, that obviously didn’t happen”  

“What did you want to do when you moved to London then?” Max asked with genuine interest, surprising Y/N a bit, she wouldn’t have thought that Max Verstappen, a multi-millionaire Formula One driver who spends his life travelling the world in luxury, would be happy having a conversation so dull and insignificant as she thought this one was. Yet here he was doing exactly that.  

Y/N hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. "It's kind of silly," she admitted, her gaze momentarily dropping. Max, sensing there was more to the story, pressed on with a playful grin. "Come on, you can tell me. I promise I won't laugh." 

After a moment of contemplation, Y/N sighed and locked eyes with him. "You really promise?" 

Max nodded sincerely. "Cross my heart. I won't laugh." 

With a shy smile, Y/N finally revealed, "I wanted to be a model. That's why I moved to London." 

Instead of amusement, Max's expression shifted to genuine surprise. "Why would you think I'd laugh? You're incredibly beautiful, Y/N. I can totally see you as a model." 

Y/N blushed, taken aback by his unexpected support. "I don't know. It just seemed like a silly dream." 

Max shook his head, his eyes reflecting sincerity. "Not silly at all. You'd be amazing." 

Encouraged by his response, Y/N couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Max. You know, I’ve never actually told anyone that before. 

Max, intrigued by the unexpected revelation, couldn't help but ask, "Why did you tell me if you haven't shared this with anyone before?”  

The question took Y/N aback for a moment. She paused, reflecting on the spontaneity of her confession. After a thoughtful moment, she looked at Max with sincerity in her eyes. "I really don't know. I guess I just feel so comfortable around you that it makes me think I can tell you anything." 

Max's smile widened, a warmth spreading across his face. Y/N could see that her revelation meant a lot to him. 

As the evening progressed, the subject seamlessly transitioned to Formula One, a shared passion that sparked animated discussions. Max, recalling their time in Spain, remarked, "I remember that you said it was your first live race. How did you find it?" 

Y/N's face lit up as she recalled the thrill of the race. "I enjoyed it a lot. The atmosphere, the speed—everything was amazing." 

Max, a playful glint in his eye, leaned in a bit closer. "Well, if I invite you to another race, would you come?" 

Y/N giggled, catching the flirty undertone. "Hmm, I could probably be persuaded to come," she teased.  

The evening quickly drew to a close and the pair began to finish off their meal and savor the last sips of the wine that Max had chosen. The ambiance of the restaurant lingered in the air, creating a space where conversations shifted effortlessly between light banter and more serious reflections. 

Max, his demeanor taking on a more serious note, looked at her with a contemplative expression. 

"Hey, Y/N, can I ask you a question?" 

Y/N, sensing the shift in atmosphere, felt a twinge of worry but nodded. "Of course, Max. Ask away." 

Max took a moment before posing the question that had been on his mind. "I just wanted to know what the situation is between you and Mason, I noticed that in Spain it seemed like there was some hostility between you and him, especially when it came to you spending time with me.” 

Y/N, caught slightly off guard, hesitated for a moment. She could sense that Max was genuinely concerned, and his straightforward approach deserved an honest response, but she just didn’t know what to say.  

In the time that Y/N took to think, Max spoke up again. “It’s just that, I’m really starting to like you; but if there’s something between you and Mason, I don’t want to come between anything you guys have.” 

“There isn’t.” she started speaking. “Well not really. Mason and I have been friends for a long time, best friends. And during that time, I started to develop feelings for him. I tried to keep it hidden but he found out just before we left for Spain and he didn’t take it well. He made it clear that nothing would ever happen between us, but he also seemed to get really annoyed at the way I felt”  

Max’s expression was unreadable as she continued. “It’s complicated, really complicated. We’re working on getting our friendship back to how it was before, but it’s not been easy. All Mason and I are ever going to be is friends, and I’m starting to really like you too. But I understand that its’a a pretty awkward situation, so if you want to leave I understand.” 

Max's expression remained unreadable, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might be considering leaving. However, to her surprise, he stood up. Her heart sank, assuming that he was about to make an exit, and she tried to hide her disappointment behind a polite smile. 

But instead of walking away, Max extended his hand toward her. Confusion filled Y/N's eyes as she looked at his outstretched hand. Max met her gaze and spoke with a gentle smile, "Come on, I want to take you to my favorite part of London." 

Relief and surprise washed over Y/N as she realized he wasn't leaving. She took his hand, feeling a sense of curiosity bubbling within her. 

A short car ride later, Max and Y/N arrived at a hidden gem of a coffee shop nestled in the heart of London. The exterior exuded a quaint charm, with ivy climbing the brick façade and a small, hand-painted sign welcoming patrons inside. As they stepped through the door, a soft chime announced their entry, and the cozy ambiance enveloped them. 

The interior was a delightful blend of rustic and eclectic, with exposed brick walls adorned with strings of fairy lights casting a warm glow. Mismatched wooden tables and chairs created an intimate setting, each piece seeming to have its own story to tell. Vintage-style lamps with patterned shades added a touch of nostalgia, and the air was infused with the rich scent of freshly ground coffee beans. 

The counter, adorned with handwritten chalkboard and small potted plants, beckoned them to explore the offerings. Quirky artwork hung from the walls, ranging from local artists' pieces to hand-drawn illustrations that added to the uniqueness of the place. Soft jazz tunes played in the background, creating a backdrop of soothing melodies. 

Max, with a genuine smile, gestured around the coffee shop. "This is one of my favorite spots in London. I found it on one of my first trips here for factory work, and I've loved it ever since." 

As they settled into a cozy corner, Max leaned, speaking softly. "I took you to that fancy restaurant because that's what you're supposed to do on dates, but truthfully, I wanted to bring you here. There’s just something about this place." 

Y/N took in the charming details, appreciating the unique character of the coffee shop. "It looks absolutely lovely," she remarked sincerely. 

Max grinned. "They make the best hot chocolate you will ever taste here; can I get you one?." 

Approaching the counter, Max ordered two of their signature hot chocolates and as they settled in, the coffee shop transformed into a cozy haven—a perfect setting for a more relaxed and intimate continuation of their evening. 

As they drunk their drinks, Y/N couldn't help but express her wonder. "Max, how is it that someone who doesn't even live in London finds such amazing places? I've lived here for years and never stumbled upon somewhere this nice." 

Max chuckled, a playful glint in his eye. "I've always had a knack for finding those hidden gems. It's a talent, really. I've got plenty of spots like this in Monaco. I'd love to show you around sometime." 

Y/N's eyes widened at the mention of Monaco, a place she had always dreamed of visiting. "Monaco? That sounds amazing, but you know, it's not the kind of place I can afford on an assistant's salary." 

Max's smile remained, genuine and inviting. "You should come with me one day. Seriously." 

The unexpected proposal made Y/N's heart race a bit. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly, and the idea of jetting off to Monaco felt like a whirlwind. She managed a tentative smile and replied, "Yeah uh, maybe one day." 

As the conversation lingered, Y/N suddenly found herself panicking. It felt like a lot was happening too fast, and she needed a moment to process. "It's getting late, and I have work tomorrow," she explained. "I've really enjoyed tonight, Max. Thank you." With a kiss on his cheek, she excused herself and left the coffee shop. 

Walking home, Y/N's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. She truly didn’t know what to do, she really liked Max, but things were moving really fast. Sighing, she took out her phone, found the contact she was looking for and dialed the number.  

"Hey, I know it's late, but can I come round?" 

Tag list-

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[formula1fanfiction]

Max Verstappen / George Russell

Title: It started pretty slowly

Pairing: Max Verstappen / George Russell

Characters: Max Verstappen, George Russell, Lewis Hamilton

Prompt: Please could I have alpha Max finding venerable omega George in heat in the paddock and max really wants him, but he asks Lewis permission first? Thnx

It's the end of another underwhelming race weekend for Max, Lando has closed in a fair chunk of points, it's not really worrying him, not yet anyway. The twenty second penalty just means he had to stay way later than everyone else for a debrief and telling off, what a joke. The paddock is practically empty now, it's dark outside. There's a few stray people cleaning things up, but that's about it.

He's about to get into a car and drive home, when he hears a distressed whine coming from behind the bins, at first he thinks it's a lost cat until he smells it, the unmistakable scent of an unmated omega in heat. The omega must be pretty far gone, judging by how strong the scent is. Despite what people think, he's not as heartless as they make him out to be, so he goes to help. It puts him on edge a little bit, there's a handful of omega drivers in the paddock, he hopes it's not one of them in a dangerous vulnerable position.  

It is one of his fellow drivers, he finds George Russell curled up besides a mess of broken carbon fibre, still in his race suit, looking worse for wear. "George?" He doesn't know to approach, he wants to help but he doesn't want startle to omega into a panic. He closes the distance, with one step at a time.

"Alpha." George crawls forward, his pupils dilating completely. This is much worse than the thought. "Let's help you up, okay?" George stares blankly, as Max wraps an arm around his waist and helps him up. The back of his hand, makes contact with George's ass and it's dripping wet with slick. This is torture! George mewls at that and Max's own cock takes an interest, fuck sake.

"Max, my max? Alpha?" George purrs cat like and rubs his face into Max's neck. He wants George so badly, but how can he say yes, he's quite sure George doesn't even know where he is right now. "I'm going to call Lewis, okay? He's a fellow omega, he's safe okay" George ignores him, and keeps nuzzling.

Lewis picks up on the first ring, he must know it's something important because he's never had to phone Lewis in his life. "Please help, I found George in the paddock behind the bins, he's pretty far gone in heat-" Lewis doesn't let him finish. "Don't touch him, he can't consent." Well obviously, does Lewis think he's just going to take George behind the bins? "I just want to know what to do, what the fuck?"

"Sorry, he disappeared after the race, we knew his heat had come early and thought he had gone home to take care of it. Can you take him back to your hotel, and i'll pick him up from there?" Max agrees, but he can't help but feel a bit pissed about it, don't Mercedes take care of their omega's? He quickly gives Lewis his address, George has now climbed into his lap and is happily purring there. This isn't going to be easy, the scent is so overwhelming his cock is twitching uncontrollably in his pants.

"Come on let's get into my car, i'll get you to safety okay?" George blinks, his eyes turning fully black, fuck his heat riddled brain has interrupted that as something else.  "Yes alpha, knot? Max's knot yes?" The fact he can't form any kind of sentence is slightly worrying but George gets into the car easily, however the drive back can't be described as easy, George is whining at the loss of contact and Max has to mouth breathe the entire way home to stop him crashing the car.   

Infuriatingly Lewis isn't waiting for them, so Max has to take George back into his room, to keep him safe, which sends the omega crazy. Max is a messy person, there are various items of clothing strewn around the room. George seems to be delighted by this and collects all the clothing, scenting it and making it into what seems to be some kind of nest. It's so adorable, Max really wants him. It's going to break his heart to say no, he's trying so hard and he's going to have to turn him down.

"Alpha, nest?" George pats the place beside him as he struggles with the zip on his race suit. "Do you want me to help you take it off?" There's fire proofs under there it's fine, he tells himself  as he pulls down the zipper. He knows he's made a mistake, the smell of George's slick becomes overwhelming. "Want you, alpha." George pulls him into the nest and starts scenting him. It feels so nice.

George hisses at the knock of the door. "No, no Max, my Max no." George cries as Max climbs out of the nest, and goes to open the door. Lewis shoots him a disapproving glance at the obvious erection in his sweat pants. Lewis collects George's race suit from the floor and makes his way to the nest.

"Why did you let him nest with your clothes? And let him scent you, what the fuck Max? This heat is going to be horrible for him now." Max wants to cry, he didn't want to make this any worse, he loves George and just wanted to do right by him. Max is close to tears when Lewis climbs into the nest, there seems to be some kind of omega communication, Max can't understand a word, it's obviously not English.

"Hurry up Lewis, this is torture for the both of us." Lewis looks him up and down an unreadable expression on his face. "Do you want him or do you want him?"

"Obviously I want him, I want to take care of him. Do you think I would have done all this if I had just wanted to fuck him?" He knows he's being irrationally angry but when there is an omega in a nest of your clothes, begging for you it's hard, especially when you want to wrap your arms around said omega and make him feel loved and cared for, both in heat and not in heat.

"Okay." Lewis nuzzles George's nose. "I'm confident he wants this too, just take care of him. He's sensitive, don't be too rough with him or anything." Max nods, feeling relieved, Lewis wishes his fellow omega and safe heat and leaves, not without threatening Max on the way out. "Look after him and call me if you need anything."

"Alpha?" George's scent has turned sour, his alpha abandoning him to talk to another omega will be the cause of that. "What do you want my sweet little omega?" George pats his nest, and Max climbs in obediently.

"Aww sweetheart, are you sure you want this?" George responds by pressing his nose into Max's hoodie and breathes in, purring happily. "I take that as a yes." George's skin is burning hot, his heat must be borderline painful for him now. "Come on sweetheart, let's take this top off you, you're too hot." George lets Max undress him, down to his boxer shorts, they are so wet the fabric has turned from light grey to dark. Max's cock is screaming at him with interest, but he wants to take this at George's pace.

"Alpha, cold." Max chuckles, there is no way, he's sweating so badly that his hair is stuck to his forehead, he's quite sure George just wants to cuddle and if that's what he wants that's what he'll get. "Shall we take this to the bed? I don't want to ruin your pretty little nest." George purrs in delight, with the compliment of the nest. He lets Max take him from the nest and onto the bed.

They cuddle on top of the covers, Max doesn't want George to overheat, his head is buried inside of Max's neck. It's almost intoxicating for Max, the smell of the omega in heat, is just so overwhelming it's taking every ounce of his self control not to jump  him right now, but if George needs cuddles first, that's exactly what Max will give to him.

"Alpha wants?" George giggles like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard, he's not even sure what George is trying to say, Max's knuckles are white from how hard he's gripping onto the covers, not wanting to take advantage of the omega. George whines, he was clearly asking some kind of question.

"Knot?" He tries again, rolling off Max and presenting himself, fuck. "Do you want my knot baby?" George nods. "Alpha, please." Max helps George out of his dripping wet boxer shorts and presses three fingers inside, he's never had an omega so wet before.

Max can start to feel his instincts kick in, his own brain going fuzzy at this. "George? Are you really sure you want this?" George whines again, leaning forward onto his elbows to push his ass up even higher. "Alpha." Max chuckles. "Okay, I understand, you needy little thing."

"let me take care of you, sweet heart." George yelps in delight as his legs are pulled backwards and practically wrapped around Max's neck. George is dripping wet, Max licks a swipe across his hole and tastes that sweet slick. George moans in pleasure, Max keeps licking up the slick around his wet entrance, then lets his tongue slip inside. What he really wants is to, suck George completely dry but there's just too much of it. George shudders below him as he comes all over the bed sheets. Max pulls away, the slick glistening on his chain.   

"Poor baby, you're a mess aren't you?" George is a withering mess now, Max has pulled away from him. That orgasm has clearly done absolutely nothing to help  him. "Does my little omega, need more?" George just nods, and presents himself for a second time "What do you need baby?"

"Knot, knot, knot." His whole body is trembling, he needs this badly. Max doesn't want to make him wait any longer. "I'll give you my knot, my sweet little omega." George purrs in delight. "Please."

Max takes off his own clothes, George is in a vulnerable state already, so out of respect he wants to be fully naked too. "Are you ready, sweet omega?" Max can't quite resist the kiss on the back of his sweaty head. George moans. "Alpha." Max holds his hips very gently and sinks inside.

George moans and presses his face into the soft pillow, as Max pushes into him inch by inch. He's so wet, it's like a knife through warm butter as he bottoms out inside of him. Sparks fly, it feels like George's body was made to accept his cock. His teeth ache, from the overwhelming need to bite the omega.  

Max doesn't bother to stall, George doesn't need him to do so, all he wants is a knot, he covers George's body with his own and starts slowly thrusting into him, letting George feel every inch of his thick cock. He can't bite down, instead he sucks a nice purple bruises onto George' neck, that will have to do for now.

"More, more." George writhers underneath him, pushing his hips up to meet Max's thrust, who had slowed down a little too much when sucking the mark onto his neck. "Sorry my little love." Max doesn't need to be told twice, he pulls himself out of George's neck and starts to thrust into him harder and deeper. George mewls in delight at finally getting what he wants, sinking deeper and deeper with every thrust looking for that little bundles of nerves, that he knows will fill George full of pleasure.  

"Yes, alpha, yes, yes." George throws his head back, his mating gland popping alarmingly, torturing Max. He's loving the moans of pleasure falling from George's lips, loving that he's the one giving the omega this much pleasure as he continues to hit his prostate with every thrust.

"Does this cute little omega, want to cum?" Max wraps his fist around George's leaking cock and strokes him to the same pace as his thrusts. George buckles and withers underneath him, with the pleasure. It doesn't take much longer, with the constant slamming onto his prostate and the skill of Max's hand. He cums for the second time, spraying the bed sheets below him. This orgasm does nothing, his cock stays hard and twitches furiously in his hand.

"Knot, hurts alpha, knot." George looks like he's on the verge of tears. "Do you want my knot baby?" George nods and rests his head on the pillow. Max knows it won't be much longer, his knot has already swelled alarmingly, he just needs it to catch now. He squeezes down on George's tiny waist and speeds up his thrusts.

Max's instincts fully take over as the knot starts to catch. "Going to claim you baby, you're my little omega, he's still got enough senses to not bite George where it matters, instead he bites down on George's shoulder, who yelps in pleasured pain as he cums again. Max's knot is almost there now, he thrusts into George a few more times and soon they are fully locked together.

George lets out a content little sigh, Max's mind comes back to him, he swipes away the blood from George's shoulder and pulls him into a sort of spooning position. His heart is pounding with fear, George hasn't said a word yet.

"Blimey Max, i'm so sorry." He sniffs, going stiff in Max's arms. Something's wrong, there's a change in his scent and he's trying to shuffle as far as can from Max, while still being attached to him. "What are you sorry for?"

"For forcing you to knot me, I get really clingy and embarrassing when i'm in heat. As soon as this pops, i'll be out of your hair don't worry, i'll spend the rest of my heat with toys." Max growls, it's so loud George jumps a little. "Look if you don't want me and you would rather have your toys that's fine, but i'm happy to help you out, I really like you."

Max's knot chooses that exact moment to pop, and he's able to take George into his arms, they are face to face now, his big blue eyes are watery from unshed tears. "I've wanted you for so long Max, i'm sorry for this, i'm on birth control." Max swipes George's tears away with his thumbs. "I had to bite your shoulder, my instincts were screaming at me to mate you, I want you too."

George looks confused, his lashes are clumped together with tears. "You want me? Why?" The look of confusion, hurts a little bit, he looks genuinely shocked that anyone would want him. "I like you, you don't let your status rule you. I hate soppy little omega's who just roll over for alpha's." George giggles at this, his skin is starting to get hot again. "I don't think i'd get very far as an omega in motor sports with that attitude."

The smell of slick starts filling up the room again. "I'm- Are you sure Max?" Max pins George down onto the mattress and growls. "Do you think i'm going to miss the chance to ruin this little omega for the second time? No and after all of this we'll talk about making this a regular thing."

"Bite me alpha." Fuck, this heat is going to be much harder than he thought.      

[isacksteban]

First Kiss (Race 2)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (1.4k words, no warnings) [@v3lnys]

last part - masterlist - next part

Quali came to an end once again, the feeling slightly tamer than the first time as Lance pulled back into his side of the garage, Nico not far behind.

He was slightly disappointed he qualified p10 but it'll be fine as long as he can actually finish this race (and hopefully get points for the team this time.)

He heard Nico talking to his engineer on the other side of the garage and decided to go over, not having much to do on his side.

"Seriously, the wheels locked up like twice. You were watching and I know you noticed so the fact that you're ignoring the issues is bullshit-"

Maybe not the best time to stand around.

He decided instead of hanging around with Nico he'd just walk around the paddock, his race suit hanging by his hips as he walked by the other teams garages, seeing how busy everyone else on the paddock was. He could tell some people were quick to go home but he wasn't ever in a rush to get back to his hotel room, it was usually boring anyway.

"Ah, Lancito, I was just looking for you" There it is. The voice Lance looks forward to hearing as soon as the race week starts, and most likely the reason he decides to stay back as late as he does

"Nando, Hi" He flashed a smile at the long haired driver, stoping in his tracks so they could walk together

"Nando?" The shorter man echoed, catching up to Lance as they both continued walking, steps in sync as they made their way around the paddock

"Well, I figured it was only fair for me to give you a name since you gave me one" Lance nodded as he spoke, afraid the older man had a problem with it, it was quite childish, he wasn't sure why he even called him that, Fernando worked just fine, it was a silly nickname

"I like it, Sounds good coming from you." Fernando smiled up at Lance, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him down to his level "Guess we are friends now, eh? Coworkers do not usually have special names for eachother"

Lance nodded again, he supposed Nando was right. He turned to look at him as he continued to speak, rambling about many things but all Lance could think about was how good he looked. He'd never really examined the Spaniard like he was doing now, sunglasses propped up on his head, holding his hair out of his face, it seemed like he had just shaved that morning, the shadow of his facial hair barely visible, his lips curved slightly upwards as he talked, his hair curling in every direction but somehow he made the messy look seem intentional

"What hotel do they have you staying at, Lancito?" Was the first thing Lance really heard after spending god knows how long just staring at Fernando. How embarrassing.

"Uhm- Mövenpick? I think, Otmar has my keycard somewhere." Lance hummed, having lost the keycard to the hotel in Bahrain Otmar had decided it was best to put Nico and Lance in the same room and "look after" Lances keycard until they headed back.

"Ah, I see. I didn't realize they'd put drivers in different hotels."

"If you miss my company so much you're welcome to come along, you know I get special priviliges because of my dad" Lance joked, at this point he was so used to people belittling him to just being his fathers son that he had started to do it as well

"Ah, don't say that Lancito" Fernando almost scolded him, moving his hand to tap the back of his head "You forget I'm world champion, I could buy another hotel ticket if I wanted to."

Lance laughed, nodding in agreement, there wasn't anything stopping Fernando from doing anything really, after he left the paddock he could go wherever, do whatever, it's not like he signed away his soul to F1 so moving hotels wouldn't be a big deal "I know, I know, but if you ever want free stuff, Mr. World Champion, you know who to ask" Lance hummed, taking his turn of having his arm around Fernandos shoulder "These are the perks of being friends with a nepotism baby"

"I'll take your word for it then" Fernando laughed, accepting the change of positions, it wasn't very comfortable reaching up to drape an arm around Lances shoulder anyways.

A comfortable silence fell over them, neither feeling the need to add anything more, it was odd, how well they had clicked. They got along better together than either of them did with their teammates but no one was complaining. Lance liked having someone to go to outside of the Racing Point garage and Fernando liked having someone he felt like this towards, whatever "this" was. They were snapped back to reality when Otmar finally found Lance

"God kid, I was looking for you. Nico's about to head back so I figured now was a good time to give you the key" He pulled out a think black card and handed it to Lance "Don't lose it this time, alright?" He asked, not letting to just yet.

"Alright, I'll attach it to my arm, okay?" Lance joked, turning back to Fernando "Think about it, really, if your hotel gets boring you're more than welcome at mine." He said before making his way out of the paddock, catching up to Nico so they could leave together

Odd was all Otmar thought, he didn't realize his driver had gotten so close to Fernando, he'd thought maybe it was just press, or maybe some plan the Spaniard had, but he had nothing to gain from staying late and just sitting next to him.

Lance tried not to be disappointed when night came and went and Fernando had decided not to come, it was silly, but a part of him was looking forward to seeing him outside of the paddock, outside of the blue and yellow.

They were so busy before the race that Lance hadn't even managed to catch a glimpse of the Spaniard let alone talk to him, before he knew it interviews were over and he was in his car, lined up in the fifth row, Nico barely behind him.

Fernando was right in saying Malaysia was going to treat him better, he had managed to make up three places and actually get points for his team in his second grand prix.

It felt great, even though it wasn't a podium like Fernando had gotten getting points waa a big deal for the rookie (driver and team).

The debrief went smoothly considering how both Nico and Lance finished the race with no major problems, as they gathered their things and the team started to leave the garage one by one Lance couldn't help but notice the blue in the corner of his eye. He turned his head and smiled when he confirmed it was in fact Fernando

"Good-" Lance started, trying to beat Fernando to congratulating eachother was proving to be difficult

"You did great, Lancito" Fernando commented, walking into the garage now that it was practically empty "Your overtakes are pretty decent for a nepotism baby, eh?"

Lance laughed, hitting Fernandos arm "Guess you did pretty good for a world champ then, huh?" It was nice, the banter they had, if anyone else joked with him jow Fernando does he was sure he'd take it the wrong way but with how Fernandos treated him since they met he had no doubt in his mind that every jab he made towards him was lighthearted.

"Any plans before Australia, Lancito?" Right, Lance had forgotten there wasn't another race for two weeks

"I'm not sure, I always end up somewhere though" He laughed, leaning on the counter behind him, using his hands to prop himself up "How about you, where are you going, Nando?"

"Me and Mark, Mark Webber, were planning on spending the break in Australia together"

Right, he forgot Fernando was close to Mark, the driver who's seat he took.

"Could you tell him I'm sorry?" Lance hesitated to speak, wondering if the Australian was mad at him for ending his career early

"He doesn't mind, trust me, if he wasn't okay with ending his career he would've signed with someone else." Fernando consoled the younger, patting his shoulder after he finished "Don't worry your pretty little head, alright?"

Lance laughed, shaking his head at the comment in efforts to ignore the pink tint covering his face "Alright, Nando."

[annisassintchaska]

You Shall Pay For It: Toto Wolff x Black!Caribbean!Reader

TW: Reader is 29 years old.

Working for MERCEDES AMG PETRONAS F1 TEAM always has its ups and down. There are days when the team does extremely well, and days when things go extremely south; it was how well they learnt and upgraded from their mistakes, that made the team as strong and dominant as it is today. The blood, sweat and tears from hard work and dedication that has given the wanted results.

Today is just like any other day in the paddock where drivers are getting ready for the race here in Singapore. The drivers are in their cars waiting for the green light. The race started and the drivers and defending and overtaking one another, fighting for the top position and hoping to get a pole while pushing each other to perform to the best of their abilities as always.

Unfortunately for George, he made a mistake that caused him to DNF close to the end of the race. The whole Mercedes garage was in shambles as they tried to console a disappointed Russell as they completely ignored the fact that Lewis had gained a pole, crossing the finish line in third place. The whole celebration went on, yet no one from the entire garage came out to congratulate him. The Ferrari and McLaren engineers realized his loneliness and decided to give him a hug. He went onto the podium and celebrated without any support from his team and seeing this caused Toto's wife to become livid at how he was treating his driver that literally made the team what it is today.

Walking into the garage, she stormed straight for Lewis. "Hey schatzi, how are y-" Toto cut himself off after his wife pushed him out the way. "Hi Lew, congratulations on your podium, I'm so happy for you! You did amazing out there!" Y/n cheered on the older man as she gave him a tight hug. "Thank you Mrs. Wolff, I did my best" Lewis blushed at the sudden admiration. "No worries here, you did just great for me and I appreciate it, unlike SOME PEOPLE!" Y/n emphasized as she stared down her husband. "As for you Mr. Wolff, weh di bumboclatt yuh feel like yaah do?! di man a work fi yuh fi how much years now and dis is how yuh treat him? yuh pussyclaat never deserve fi get nuh win den yuh dutty jankrow, move outta mi face man!" Y/n cursed in her native language walking off to the office and slamming the door, which had the whole paddock in silence since they had never heard her speak it before.

The rest of the day went by as no one spotted the previously angry woman until it was time for them to leave, she walked ahead of her husband as they came to a stop in front of the car. "Give me the keys" y/n demanded as Toto passed them over without question, thinking that she just wanted to be the one to drive; therefore was shocked to find that she entered the car and locked him out before starting the car and rolling down the window. "What are you doing leblieng, open the door?" he pleaded but it fell on deaf ears as she replied. "No, you embarrassed me today and you'll pay for it. You are not welcomed into the car and definitely not at home. You will find somewhere else to sleep that ISN'T a hotel or motel until you can apologize" before driving off and leaving him in the parking lot confused and basically homeless. The media had managed to get the footage and the entire F1 community is in chaos trying to figure out what he did wrong.

For a whole week, Toto had to be sleeping inside his office and using the shower in the change room to freshen up as he and other team members, including Lewis and George try to figure out what was to be corrected. Each day, Y/n would show up to the paddock and completely ignore her husband as she interacted with everyone but him, making him sad and almost in tears. "Schatzi, please tell me what I did wrong? I promise to fix it immediately, for whatever reason I've been wrong I'm sorry!" Toto wailed as he fell to his knees in the middle of the paddock where everyone could see the crying man who now looks like a child being scolded. Y/n looked down at the man she called her husband, contemplating before she decided to finally enlighten him. "You have been very wrong for what you did over the weekend. The way you treated Lewis was awful and I am expecting you to apologize. right here. right now." she said in all seriousness as the whole paddock watched on in shock.

"Lewis, I know I didn't congratulate you on your win and it may have seemed like I didn't care due to me addressing the issue with George, but I am really proud of you. you always do your best and aim for the highest and that makes me proud to be your team principal" Toto said, tears pouring down his face in shame that he did such act without realising. "I forgive you Toto, I know that you meant no harm and honestly I might have made the same mistake if I was in your shoes." Lewis responded as y/n motioned for Toto to stand.

Everyone went back to their regular job, of course cameras were still live as the married couple interacted for the first time. "Now you listen here Torger, both drivers are equal and should be treated as such. What happened was George's mistake therefore Lewis shouldn't have had to pay for it. the next time this happens, you will be added to the burial list, you understand me?" Y/n asked getting an immediate reply "yes ma'am. does this mean we are on good terms again? I really want to hug you and come home the end of the day?" Toto asked carefully not to piss her off again in case his punishment wasn't over. Surprisingly Y/n held her arms open for him to walk into, the couple embracing as the crowd awed and cheered at them, glad that Toto was finally in the clear.

[f1-disaster-bi]

"You deserve better than me." ~ Daniel/Lando?

Oooo this is giving Party au

Lando had always known that eventually something about his sobriety would get out.

He knew that nothing stayed secret forever. He knew that he'd have to talk about his missing year at some point, that he couldn't ignore it but he had thought that he'd have more time to figure it out.

Lando had always planned to say something. He'd been working towards it with both his sponsor and therapist. He'd talked to the team about it, about coming forward with his struggle with mental health and with being sober, but Lando had really thought that it would happen when he retired, not while he was still racing.

The choice had been taken out of his hands three weeks ago.

Someone had leaked something about his six months in the inpatient rehab program. They hadn't been able to find out who the person was, but enough was leaked that Lando had woken up to panicked calls from his magement, from the team, from his friends and family.

He had woken up to Max bursting into his apartment, and taking his phone away from him because Lando had started having a break down and Daniel wasn't there. Charles had held him while he had sobbed, and Max had filtered his social media but he still saw what everyone was saying about him.

It didn't matter how hard they tried, Lando still saw the messages, the tweets, the articles. He saw what everyone thought about him. He saw the fans turning on him, calling him junkie scum, wishing he had died.

Lando had already put out his statement. He had given an interview to Natalie. All questions had been pre-checked, and Lando had had to have his sponsor nearby. He'd been honest about his mental health, about his drinking, about the team noticing something was wrong and getting him help. He left out the admission that he had drank in his drivers room and had driven in practices in Monaco while riding a high. No one needed ro know that.

The interview had helped a little. It had helped for the world to see what he had dealt with, to hear his words and he knew that even if a thousand people hated him, that there was at least one person out there watching his interview and seeing that they could do it. They could get clean too, and he tried to focus on that but right now, Lando’s head was too loud.

It was too messy inside his head as he remained curled up in the dark of his hotel room. A group of fans ha been screaming abuse at him on the way into the hotel. One had thrown a drink at him and Lando had walked straight into the shower with his clothes on because he smelled of vodka and it made him want to wretch.

"Lando? Baby, are you with me?", Daniel asked softly as he reached for him, never touching without Lando’s consent. Lando hadn't even heard him come in. "Baby, talk to me. Don't disappear on me"

Lando looked at him as best as he could in the dark. He reached out for Daniel's hand, taking it in his own and squeezing softly as he tried to find his words among the mess in his head. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

"You deserve better than me", Lando whispered as he felt his tears building up behind his eyes, "I'm so sorry"

Daniel watched him with sad eyes as he lifted Lando’s hand to kiss it softly.

"Can I touch your face?", Daniel asked, and when Lando nodded, Daniel cupped his face softly. He tilted Lando’s head so their eyes met, "You are my everything, sunshine. There is no one in this world that is better for me because I already found the best and it's you, okay? You're my heart, my home, my always, and I love you. You have nothing to apologise for"

Lando wanted to believe him. He wanted so desperately to be perfect for Daniel but he just felt like a screw up. He felt like everytime things were going right for them, he fucked it up with his addiction issues despite the fact he was over four years sober now.

"I keep messing up", Lando choked out, tears spilling down his cheeks and over Daniel's hands.

"No, sunshine. You haven't fucked up", Daniel reassured, leaning in to kiss his forehead softly, "The world is just a shitty place that takes advantage of people's struggles for likes and comments but you are not messing anything up. You make the world a better place by being here, by being you and showing people that you are more than the traumas you endured, okay? I love you so much, please believe that"

Lando sniffled as he leaned forward to rest his head against Daniel's. He tried to nod softly as Daniel brushed his nose against his in a soft gesture.

"I love you too", Lando whispered softly, "Everything is just...."

"Too Much right now", Daniel finished for him, wiping away Lando's tears, "And that's okay. Something really horrible was done to you and they took away your choice to come forward when you were ready. It's okay that you're not okay, Lando. Just don't shut me out"

"Okay, okay, I can do that", Lando nodded as Daniel moved to kiss his forehead again before he pushed into Daniel's lap, needing his fiancé close, "Hold me?"

"Always, sunshine. I'm never letting you go"

[willkatfanfromasia]

A Night to Remember - 2

She monotonously paced around the room to burn off her restlessness. She repeated the principles of management and profit planning, hoping it’ll ground her.

Her mind and body were far too desperate to know about him. Did he already know she was here? Was he happy or sad to see her? Does he want her back? Should she play hard or fall into his arms?

Maybe she should just avoid him, treat him as a stranger she weakly sighed

Her thoughts raced a mile an hour, punctuated by the loud rainfall outside. The thought of crossing the waterlogged grounds irritated her, but at least she’ll be left alone with her thoughts for now.

This family’s problems are as intricate as their mansion’s décor she chuckled. Their long term CAs- Anirudh & Pazhuvur- were a well known firm run by two senior professionals. They were from nobility themselves and handled elite clients. Though well meaning, they needed some help to untangle their client’s mess given the ever changing business laws.

She found a remote under the newspaper stand faced it towards the small, early 2000s BPL TV. She tsked when it didn’t switch on. Restlessness made her bang the remote on the sofa armrest repeatedly -and voila! The TV worked.

She shifted through the channels….. ethirneechal serial, suryavamsam movie,teleshopping, BBC, live telecast of a temple..no no no she chanted before settling on an Indian news channel.

An immaculately dressed man addressed the eager reporters. “Pandyan corp will venture into buying other heritage properties too”, he said that they’d already eyed a few old forts and palaces to turn into tourist sweetspots.

“Sir, you had already announced such a project 2 years ago, but it failed to take off” clamoured a journo

The official smoothly assured them that this time it will take off, dismissing the previous plan that fell through.

Nandini smirked, thinking of how they lost their most lucrative purchase due to her ‘skills’.

The Pandya’s were the royal clan who lost the most to colonialism. But they persevered, ignored public criticism, cut costs and started a real estate business- unthinkable for a clan of their stature. They’d changed their last remaining fort into a Heritage hotel and entered the luxury real estate market. Other noble clan’s looked down on them then, only to regret their decisions now.

The Chozhas were one of them. They had maintained autonomous rule long enough, so they settled into a complacent lifestyle. Their palatial homes (including their current residence), agricultural lands overseen by locals all seemed grand. Their money was locked up in trust funds and wills, rendering them unable to withdraw funds for their immediate needs. Their business investments were failing and it looked like they had to sell atleast one property.

Pandyas might’ve modernized into a corporate now, but their executive committee’s bitterness remained. They had lost a lot to the Chozhas but couldn’t retaliate when the British slammed them with the ‘Doctrine of Lapse’.

Their core team, on behalf of the young son of their late CEO, was full of “old guards”- people from families who’ve long been faithful servants of the owner’s kingly forefathers.

They were the top players in the luxury segment, their plan to buy heritage properties was just a century old thirst to one up the Chozhas

She’d interned with them as a gangly 23 year old fresh out of uni. The opportunity was great- they were one of the patrons of her college’s scholarship program. Veer pandyan had personally taught her, despite knowing real estate wasn’t her main interest.

The talent scouts at HR had run a background check, the results of which intrigued the big boss.

Born and adopted in Madurai,  moved to a suburb of Thanjavur at 10 where her dad worked  as a Archagar in temple before moving to Chennai after grade 11.

It was the last fact that caught his eye.

No sane Indian family, no matter their financial woes would shift cities when their child has completed 11th. Something drastic must’ve occurred. It no doubt involved the Chozhas as nothing moved from that estate without their consent.

The pandyan corp executives were nice to her. Really nice, that some of the older employees began envying her- an intern! Veer pandyan had a friendly uncle demeanor as he taught her the practicalities of real estate, investments and predicting markets. But soon his real interest began to show, he tried to pry into her past.

“It’s just odd, you know, you did grade 11 in one city and grade 12 in another “ he innocently asked.

Hoping to tolerate the intrusion for the sake of her job, Nandini replied “ My dad found a better position in Chennai, besides my brother wanted to join the OTA” hoping it sounded rational. She loved using her military intelligence officer bro as an excuse.

He left it for the day, but circled back to it often. “You went to THAT school right? The one where the Chozha kids studied… did you talk to them?”

Nandini cursed herself for being so naïve. She initially presumed he wanted to know about her past genuinely.

The topic was too painful. A sore spot she rarely thought of even in private- afraid of the emotional fallout. No amount of casual dismissal of her acquaintance with them sated her boss.

The heckling of journalists of the suited man snapped her to the present.

She began chuckling madly at the TV, at the slimy man trying to convince the reporters that all was well in paradise. Uncaring of been seen, she wheezed with laughter, knowing all wasn’t well- they had her to thank for that!

The low grumbling of the skies masked her outburst and made her anticipate the next loud thunder. It settled into silence but she wasn’t completely at peace yet. She’d stolen biscuits, borrowed a blanket and used the living room of her former flame.

She looked every bit the confident career woman she was, but his presence threw her off the cool headspace she maintained. And she’d have to leave this place anyway.

A fainted shadow fell on the foyer. “The rain must’ve messed with the porch lights” Nandini dismissed it and continued to change the channels. She chose to watch a Djokovic vs Nadal match to pass time. Engrossed as she was in their rally, she didn’t notice the shadow shift closer to her.

The door lock clicked and forced her to notice. “holy shit please don’t be a murderer” she inwardly thought before deciding to turn.

Her stuff shoulders turned, her eyebrows curled in fear but the sight of the form at the door step made them turn up in anger. “You…you brat!” Nandini bared her teeth as the tormentor of her dreams just smirked

@nashibirne @nspwriteups @favcolourrvibgior @vibishalakshman @thelekhikawrites @dr-scribbler @kovaipaavai @budugu @dosai-maavu @matka-kulfi @curiousgalacticsoul @harinishivaa @chiyaanvikram @celestesinsight @inveter @deepti1011 @itszhunotz @babayagahunt @thegleamingmoon @maisadalawa @ragkee @inlovewithfictionalbeings @happysharkdragon @gowrimenonop-1 @ramcharanobsessed @nature-writes29 @voidsteffy @whippersnappersbookworm @hollogramhallucination @thereader-radhika @sowlspace @rang-lo @nirmohi-premika @love-ps1ff @canonless5 @sampigehoovu @ambidextrousarcher

[sugardollthesuccubus]

Sugar was extremely home sick, especially after last night. Meeting Mammon was just as horrible as she thought it would be. He wouldn’t stop making annoying puns revolving around her name.She also couldn’t ignore the fact of how eerily similar the music at his party was similar to some of Queen Lilith’s popular songs. Ultimately, it was a horrible night full of stuck up demons that judged every move she made. She missed home. She missed the Lust ring. She missed the dark skies, the rain, and the smell of love making in the streets. Despite her feelings, she would never have the money she has now if she stayed. She suffered so much pain and killed so many to be in the position she was in and left everything was not an option.

She sat in the living room of Crimson’s home and stared at the green flames. She took a sip of tea and slowly laid back. It was quiet and eerie despite multiple demons living there too. It was uncomfortable for her to sit in complete silence. The sounds of the crackling fire didn’t give her any solace in her situation. Neither did the bitter black tea she was currently drinking. It’s been five months since she has joined the Knolastname family and, despite how long it’s been, she still didn’t feel like she was part of it.

“You must be exhausted after last night” Crimson sat next to her on the couch smiling. This was one of the rare occasions where he was dressed casually. His white tank top had various brown stains littered across it and blood stains were visible on his navy colored pants. He looked over at Sugar’s blank and emotionless face and chuckled. It was amusing to him to see someone who was normally perky and excitable look so downtrodden. Slowly, Sugar has been breaking emotionally and he was highly aware of that but he didn’t want her to turn completely cold.

He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close “Ya must be extremely bored standing around next to me all the time. So I planned something special for the two of us”

“What?” Sugar turned away from watching the fire to looking over at Crimson’s face. She noticed a light smirk on his face and became uneasy. Usually, surprises from crimson usually involved lots of guns and constant running. She doubted this time would be any different. “I’m not in the mood for an adrenaline rush today. But a nice cake would be great right now. You never keep anything sweet around here.”

Crimson rolled his eyes and patted her on the back hard. It was so hard that it was slightly painful. “No, I got something better for ya.” He hands her a piece of paper and smiles widely. “Read this. I think you’ll love it.”

She looked at the paper for a second and then gasped “this is a reservation to the Crystal Lux hotel! Only overloads and princes stay there.”

“Yea, I got a couple of guys that owe me a favor down there. You’ve been bitching for days about how much better things are in your home ring so I thought this would get you to shut up.” Crimson takes his hand and gently strokes her wings “Go upstairs and get ready. Now.”

After a few hours Sugar was ready. She dragged a small suitcase out of the mansion and raced over to the helicopter that was parked in front of her. Crimson seemed to had change into his typical suit and hat as he sat closely to Alessio. They seemed to be having a deep discussion with each other.

“Why the hell is he here?” Sugar glared at Alessio and folded her arms “This trip is for me and Crim only.”

“I didn’t want to go to the ring of sluts but I didn’t have a choice” Alessio responded in an emotionless tone and avoided eye contact with her.

“Stop yer bitching and get in. Al is here because I have a target on my back. Remember?” Crimson chuckled

Sugar had never taken the ring elevator through a helicopter. It was dark and silent as the helicopter landed in a metal tunnel. She looked out the window and saw nothing but complete darkness.

“Ah, this must be you’re first time traveling this way.”

Crimson chuckled to himself as he glanced over at her.

She ignored him and continued to look out into the darkness. She heard whispers and whistles as the helicopter began to quickly drop down lower. She started to scream and wrap her arms around Crimson. This seemed to amuse him.

Suddenly, the Helicopter stood still and blue light flashed. The atmosphere felt more serene and quiet.

“I’m home” Sugar whispers to herself and slowly releases her grip on Crimson.

“Ha. Is that a smile on your face Cookie?” Crimson slowly strokes the back of her wings. “It’s looking gorgeous out there”

The sky had a darkish blue and pink haze over it. Below them was a city full of white and pink apartment buildings. The busy streets were full of succubi and imps openly being affectionate and caressing each other. It’s a city trapped in an eternal night and the residents loved it.

The helicopter landed on top of the hotel building. It appeared that other helicopter landing stations were scattered across the roof as well. Alessio gently opened the door for both Sugar and Crimson. The three of them step out and look up at the sky.

“Better than smog covered Notamafia town right?” Sugar nudged Crimson’s arm playfully “ just being here makes me feel so alive!”

Crimson lights a cigar and takes a puff of it. The smoke that came out of it was dark red instead of the usual gray.Sugar was curious about the color but didn’t was to sound like an idiot by asking. She kissed his cheek and starts pulling him towards the entrance to the of hotel

“Babycakes, I know you’re excited but make sure you don’t draw too much attention to us. I’ve pissed off the prince of lust in the past and I don’t want him to know I’m here.”

“Yea yea I know” Sugar's wings fluttered excitedly as she pulled him towards the entrance elevator.

Alessio rolled his eyes as he entered the elevator with them. He was disgusted by Sugar’s childish excitement over something he saw as just a typical hotel building. He slightly looked down at the two imps standing below him. He watched as Sugar clinged onto Crimson and the way his tail wagged as she did it. It was a disturbing sight to him to see his boss letting someone touch him so closely.

The elevator opened up to the lobby. Loud piano music could be heard as the three of them stepped inside. Small tables and couches were spread out across the room. In the middle of the room was a grand piano that was surrounded by dozens of Succubi. The music made Sugar’s mind feel cloudy and hazy. It was like the music was pulling and pushing her to come closer. Before she could even think, her legs were unconsciously moving closer to the piano.

“Sugar, where the hell are you going? The check in desk is the opposite way.”

Crimson snarled her but she slowly walked towards the crowd. As she moved closer to the crowd, she got a better view of the person playing the piano. It was a succubus with long blond hair and sharp yellow eyes. She wore a short and white cocktail dress and black hair clip that resembled a snake. Sugar tried to push her tiny body through the crowd and aggressively shoved passed the other succubi. A few of them glared at her and pushed her back. This caused her to tumble to the ground.

Crimson grabs Sugar’s arm and yanks her off the ground. He had an eerie smile on his face as he looked her in the eyes “I knew ya had a thing for musicians but I didn’t think you were so empty headed that you’d forget whose in charge of here.”

She knew what that smile meant. He was clearly pissed. Explaining to him that she lost control of her body and senses for a minute felt pointless but if she said nothing the situation would only get worse.

“I dunno what got into me. It was like my mind and body was getting pulled closer to the crowd. All I saw in front of was the sparkling beauty of that Succubus”

“Boss,it’s clearly magic” Alessio whispered to Crimson “look how all the other succubi here are behaving.”

“Huh?” Crimson looks around the lobby at the different succubi around. They always seemed dazed and fixated on the piano player. They seem zombie-like in the way their legs and arms shuffled towards it. Quickly, he covered Sugar's ears and pushed her towards the receptionist desk.

The receptionist was a large hellhound with pink fur and bright yellow eyes. She glared down at Crimson and Sugar and sighed “Names?”

Crimson smirks “Moxxie Knolastname”

Sugar gave Crimson a confused look as he took the keys. Why the hell was he using his son’s name instead of his own? She thought it was best now to question it. He’s used Moxxie’s name for a lot of purchases, especially when he wanted to remain anonymous. She only knew that he was his son and they don’t talk anymore. She followed Crimson up the elevator, leaving Alessio in the lobby to get his own room next to them.

Crimson opened the suite door and smiled “Ya know, I actually hate places like this. Too flashy for my taste. But I know you’re kind like these sorta places.”

Sugar walked into the room audibly gasped . What shocked her the most was how big the room was. The dark blue walls had golden shimmers across it. The plush pink couches and chairs felt extremely soft to touch. The auburn table that sat between the chairs looked a bit old but sturdy. What drew her attention the most was the balcony.

“Impressed?” Crimson chuckled and put his arm around her waist “I knew you’d love it! You’re so easy. Sit down for a minute while I get us some dinner. I don't dare complain about me pickin!”

“This is weird. Why are you doing all this for me? I’ve failed every task you’ve given me. The only thing I’ve succeeded at is fucking around with members of the family”

“Doll, I stopped caring a long time ago but your crappy attempts at seduction. The videos you’ve made for me have made you not completely useless. It always surprises me how many freaks will pay to see you humiliate yourself as requested.” He laughs “ I can’t deny that I only keep you around for that reason. But-“ He pauses for a second. It was like he was stopping himself from saying something he’ll regret.

“I’m starting to not believe you when you talk like that. But every time someone gives you a request to spend the night with me, your eyes bulge out like you’re about to go feral. Admit it. You don’t enjoy the money you get from selling me.”

“Ha! I’ll be honest, it’s fucking disgusting what these grown ass demons request to do to you. I’ll never understand it.There are hybrids all over the lust ring that look just like you. What are you doing that’s making them so nuts like that.”

“Nothing Special” Sugar smiles “I just do what I’m told. Whether it’s a hug or they wanna lick my tail, I’ll do it for a quick buck”

“Baby, no demon acts like that without a purpose. What driving you to be such a greedy whore.” Crimson looked at her with a soft expression on his face. It was different from his usual sharp grin. It was a mixture of curiosity and concern. “It was fun for a while, but I’m starting to desires more. So tell me. Where’s your family?”

“My family?” Sugar glares at him.

“Yea. Doll, I’ve used every resource I had to get that info but couldn’t. So I might as well ask ya.”

“My parents were exterminated. Not much more to it.”

“Oh. The angels got them” Crimson lit a cigar and then pulled Sugar to the couch to sit next to him. “Then I’ll assume they’re dumbasses. Exterminations only happen in the pride ring. You should have easily been able to avoid it.”

“My mama had a client that day. An overlord insisted on my mama’s services that day. That’s all I’ll say.” Sugar’s wings start to flap as she thought about that day. The screaming, the flashing lights, the face of an angel, a strong memory that she could never forget, no matter how she tried.

“Nice. I finally found something you’re truly afraid of. It’s a basic fear but a good one” He takes a puff of his cigar and pats her leg “Darling, is that why you never take tasks that involve the pride ring? You don’t have to worry. I got a few tools that can get rid of angelic pest.”

She rolled her eyes. She was sure Crimson wanted her to praise and take him for being willing to do that for her,but she was aware he was only saying that as an ego boost. “You’d seriously waste your time getting items that protect against angels for me? You’re joking.”

“Come on! I’m serious. Baby, it’s the least I can do for you after everything I’ve put you through. I know how much you wanna go to the pride ring and see Lucifer perform. And I can give you the security to do it. I know how much you obsess over him.”

“It would be nice to see him up close.”

Crimson gently took Sugar’s hand and bought her to the balcony. The sky appeared to be darker than when they first arrived. The song that played from the lobby in the piano below.

“Cookie, pay close attention to me. Don’t let the music distract ya. Make me you’re Lucifer. Your King.” He pulls her close to his chest and the places one hand around her waist. Then the other hand to hold her’s. “My kingdom is small but it’s secure. And I know with you’re abilities, we can make it stronger.”

“That’s ridiculous. The family is dying. There isn’t anyone left on our side. I don’t know how long I can stay”

Crimson smiles. A genuine smile. It was a gentle expression the highlighted the stress lines underneath his eyes. “Baby doll” he spoke gently and swayed her back and forth. Perfectly in sync with the music. “You’re not leaving. You don’t want to leave. It stopped being about the money for you a long time ago. The pain and discomfort of being in this family is something you’re addicted to. That’s why you turned down the Largo family. Am I right?”

Sugar smiles and dances along with him. She laughs as she looks into his eyes “ You know about that? Of course I don’t want to join them. I hate when people pity me. I hate their attempts to rescue me. Do you know how many times my clients have told me they could save me? Too many to count. It’s irritating. It’s bullshit. The Largo family don’t truly want me. They want Sugar, the hybrid.”

Crimson chuckles as he looks down at her “ Well, I’m more interested in Sugar Knolastname.”

“What?”

He gently lets her go and puts his hand pocket and pulled a small brown box “ I got an offer for ya. I’ll protect you for the rest of your life. Give you anything you want. You’ll have control over anyone in the gang you want. You’ll no longer have to sell yourself for me. All you gotta do is stay by my side and give me hell spawn.”

“Crimmy. Are you seriously doing this? I can’t-“

“ You can’t refuse this. You’re already in too deep.” Crimson goes down on one knee and opens the box. Inside it was a green ring with red blotches scattered around it. “Sweetheart, this is a bloodstone. It represents strength, resilience, and vitality. These are the values I want to strengthen in my family. Any bastard would have given you a diamond, but I would rather give you something more suited to us.”

Sugar hesitated on how to answer. She was shocked that he would do something like this. They haven’t been on a formal date or had any interactions that weren't completely transactional. But now, after everything, that he actually valued her this much, was all the reassurance she needed. “Yes” she muttered as Crimson slipped the ring onto her finger.

The two of them began to kiss each other deeply and aggressively. Crimson lifted her up and continued to kiss her as they walked into the bedroom. The both fell onto the bed moving their hands against each other's backs. Their tails wrapped around each other tightly. Sugar pulled off his suit jacket and excitedly ripped off his shirt. Sugar smiled as she stared at his scars across his face and stomach.

“I promise you. You’ll never get another scratch on you again”

Crimson looked down at the large Shark bite mark on Sugar’s neck “You too Cookie”

Suddenly, a large bang was heard from behind them. They’ve been found.

[jungk0oksthighs]

Ride Or Die | Home

mafia!jungkook, druglord!jungkook, angst, smut, unhealthy relationship 

Word Count - 2.5k

Jungkook takes you home after four months of running from him. Warnings: swearing, violence, threats, non-descriptive smut, mentions of drugs and death. Important note: I do not condone nor enable this behaviour or relationship. this is fiction

MINISERIES COLLECTION

After a painfully long, silent and tense car ride with Jungkook you’re finally back at his apartment, the self and same apartment you left him alone in four months ago. The day he drilled you in the shower two weeks after your initial breakup.

The place looks the same, he hasn’t changed a single thing about the interior, down to the framed picture of you both that sits on the side table in the darrk dimly lit lounge. Upon further inspection you register the glass in the frame has been smashed.

Perhaps Jungkook launched it across the room in a fit of rage when you left him here. You guess you’ll never know.

Where usually the leftover dusting of cocaine lines and crushed pills stain the coffee table, you notice it’s actually clean from drug paraphernalia for once. Your chest tightens with something akin to pride momentarily before you snap out of it with an irritated sigh. 

Jungkook has just killed someone in front of you, right now you’re nothing more than a witness to his crime. Murder. You remain standing. Even when he brushes past you and sits on the edge of the black sofa, camouflaging with the fabric since he’s wearing tight ripped jeans and loose silk button down shirt of the same colour.

“Am I just supposed to ignore the fact you were following me?” Your voice is like ice, you still don’t have the confidence to look him in his hooded eyes, shifting your weight between your aching legs.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, seemingly amused with an arrogant smirk, “You’re welcome by the way… For me saving your life.”

“I-,” You hesitate because you know he’s right. But that doesn’t change anything he’s done. “How did you even know where I was?” Curiosity gets the best of you and you gaze down at him, his usual doe-eyes look more reptilian, narrowed and fixed to your face. They’re partially covered by his raven hair which has grown since you last saw him, but you can still make out they’re on the brink of being frightening, just like the rest of his profile. Save for the smug white smile he’s displaying.

He’s laughing quietly when he speaks, pointing to himself with a long digit, “Seriously? A member of mono broke into your hotel room to kill you and you’re pissed at me for stopping him?”

“Killing him.” You bite through clenched teeth, “You didn’t stop him Kook you killed him.”

At this he stands up and quickly makes his way over to where you’re stood in a few long stride, until his heavily tattooed muscular body towers over yours. His shirt is open at the top, exposing his tanned skin adorned by a silver chain you’d gifted him a few years back. He looks dangerous. He is dangerous. Your heart is racing inside your chest but you don’t fold, you stare up at the man you once called home with furious eyes, folding your arms as if to protect yourself from his bullshit.

“Before…” His voice is low and sultry when he grips your chin with one calloused hand, holding it in place tightly, “He killed…” He creeps even closer, until his nose is less than an inch away from yours, “You.”

His messy hold of your face tightens and he angles your chin up, until it grazes his. He’s staring down at you intensely, watching your next move carefully. Heat and adrenaline flood your senses you somehow find the strength to push him away with all the force in your body. To your surprise he actually stumbles back a good distance despite his heavy weight and strength. He chuckles, shaking his head softly.

“I save your life and that’s the thanks I get?” He tongues his cheek, beginning to unbutton his shirt until it hangs either side of his inked six pack. “I’ll remember that for the next time it happens.”

“There isn’t going to be a next time Jungkook! Because you’re going to stop fucking following—”

“Stop following you?” He scoffs before storming back over, but he doesn’t touch you this time. Instead he looks down at you with dark eyes swimming in disgust. “And just… let you die? You think I’d ever allow that to happen?”

You swallow, gaze dropping to his muscular torso for less than a second. Shit. You look back at him, he’s smirking, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

“I can take care of myself.” You manage to choke out, and you’re right. While the events of this evening suggest otherwise, you know how to defend yourself should you have to. And if something like this ever happens again at least you’ll be more prepared. Maybe you should take one of Kook’s guns with you just in case.

Jungkook inhales sharply, dramatically, his pierced lips round and whistling, “He threatened to stab you Y/N, and you just stood there and let him. How the fuck is that taking care of—”

“How were you even listening to that?!” You scoff, jaw practically on the ground when it drops, “How-, how long have you been following me?!”

He pushes your body back until you’re flush to the nearest wall, his arms caging you in either side of your head. His jaw is tight, nostrils flaring, chest heaving as though he’s trying to calm himself down. And you feel the need to do the same. You’re angry. Hurt. Confused. And then he slips closer, until his bare chest is pressed up against the swell of your breasts, dipping his head until you’re eye-level with him.

“Since the moment you left.”

Your voice is low, borderline sultry when you finally manage to speak, “I told you… not to follow me.”

He matches your almost seductive tone, lips ghosting yours so closely that his breath is warm against you and your whole body tingles with something indescribable, “And I told you… not to leave.”

“Jungkook…” You exhale, bones vibrating from anticipation when he darts his tongue out to wet his lips. You shouldn’t go down this road with him again. You can’t. It would be a mistake.

But you want to.

“Mmm?” He smirks, cocking his head down and to one side, until his mouth is agonisingly close to the flesh of you neck but he doesn’t go any further. Despite how much you want him to. Parts of you miss him, parts of you hate him. But one fact stays constant, no matter what you think of him.

A part of you still loves him.

You swallow, eyes fluttering shut while you gather your thoughts, “I don’t need you to protect me, I can take care of myself.” Your voice comes out whispered, airy, albeit very unconvincing.

He pulls back just enough to catch sight of your breathlessness and you almost blush beneath his salacious gaze. His words are husky and hot when they roll of his tongue, “Prove it.”

“I… I-, No!” You snap out of his spell, shoving him away. Except this time he doesn’t move at all, you’re still trapped between him and the wall. “Let me go please.”

“That’s how you defend yourself?” Laughter rattles inside his broad chest which only infuriates you further. “You’re gonna ask the big bad wolf to just let you go? Please? Come on you can do better than that baby.”

With venom lacing every word you speak through clenched teeth, “I said let me go.”

“Why should I?” He’s using his tongue to play with his lip ring, brows raised and voice eerily calm. “Hm? So you can run off and nearly get yourself killed again? Give me one good reason—”

Your hand tightly clasped round his thick neck wins him to shut up, you don’t squeeze, you don’t want to hurt him. Truthfully you don’t think you’re actually capable of hurting Jungkook, not physically anyway. He’s been shot, stabbed, tortured, punched, kicked, thrown around… Nothing you do could ever hurt him. But what you’re doing right now does surprise him. He’s grinning, eyes blown out with something familiar, something carnal and raw.

“Are you done patronising me yet?” You spit, adrenaline coursing your veins. You have to admit something about having your hand round his throat, catching him off guard, being the one in control (even if he’s the one letting it happen) is kind of… thrilling.

“You do realise you’re not actually doing anything to me? I can still breathe, still talk. Still move. Come on Y/N. Do something. Make me feel something.” His smile pisses you off, how bright it is, how amused he is, how handsome he looks. Everything about him enrages you to the point of you actually wanting to hurt him, but you don’t. You wouldn’t.

You let him go with a small frown, “Not all of us have to solve our problems with violence.”

“Says the girl who just tried to choke me?”

“Fuck you.” You bark.

He brings a hand to your chin, tugging it upward. “I plan to.”

Maybe it’s the way his brow quirks ever so slightly. Maybe it’s how he wets his lips slowly with his glistening tongue. Maybe it’s the distraction of his exposed torso. Maybe it has something to do with the sinful way he’s hungrily eyeing you up and down. Maybe it’s the familiar apartment setting. It could be a lot of things… But whatever the reason is, it’s soon irrelevant.

Because you kiss him.

And he kisses you back.

Before long the living room is absolutely trashed and unrecognisable. The coffee table is broken completely in half. Sofa cushions scatter the floor haphazardly, not one managing to stay actually on the sofa. The rug in the room is half folded over and has moved three feet to the left. The side table is knocked over and smashed to pieces. The television is broken, displaying nothing more than a plain black screen and a neon green print of your ass alongside one of Jungkook’s large hands next to it.

Four months without each other and between you you’ve managed to rack up at least eight thousand dollars-worth of damage in one hour. One spectacular, wild, leg shaking and back breaking hour. An hour that you will never forget. Nor will he.

You’re laying atop of Jungkook’s chest on the floor in post-orgasm bliss, both completely naked, sweaty and worn out from the antics of the last sixty minutes. Jungkook reaches into his discarded jeans to find his cigarettes before lighting one. Using a dented piece of wood from… something you broke, as a makeshift ashtray.

“So are you gonna tell me how you found me now?” You hum, tapping your fingertips to his chest when he blows a perfect smoke ring into the air. Truthfully you always hated him smoking in the apartment, but you figure you have no say in the matter anymore and decide to keep your opinion to yourself.

“No.” He smirks, left hand flicking the ash from his cigarette and right hand gently smoothing out your messy hair. “I do need to figure out how mono found you though…  Cause I was the only person who knew your location. Didn’t even tell my men where you were.” He’s deep in thought at this point, thick brows furrowed with concentration and something else, something darker.

You mull over your thoughts before you’re being tugged into a bone crushing hug.

“Ow!” You whine, giggling, “Maybe someone followed you and they found me that way.”

“Doubt it, I’m good at covering my tracks.” Jungkook scoffs, clearly offended. He’s managed to pull you atop of his hard body so you sit up and straddle his hips.

He looks so good like this, underneath you, damp and spent. His profile remains dangerous looking, as it usually does. But his eyes soften when they meet yours, for a split second he resembles the old Jungkook you fell in love with. Your Jungkook. Even the cigarette he’s holding finds a way to make him look sexy. You swallow, tracing delicate patterns to his chest with your index finger.

“Aren’t you worried…?” You take a beat. “About that guy you killed?”

The man you’re sat on shrugs nonchalantly, bored looking when he takes another drag. “Not particularly. Did what I had to do to keep you alive, which again...” He grips the flesh of your thigh with his free hand, fingernails tapping your skin. “You’re welcome by the way.” His smile is genuine when smoke leaves his lips, thickening his voice.

“Thanks.” You chuckle with a tut. Truthfully you are grateful for him interfering when he did, however dramatic it was at the time. You would be dead right now if he hadn’t followed you. Even though you told him not to, you’re only alive because he did

“So are you gonna run off again or have you finally figured out it’s safer for you here?” He dots out his cigarette on the discarded wood, bringing his hands to your hips, holding you in place. His eyes drag themselves up and down your exposed chest and stomach when he gnaws his lip.

“I’m safe wherever I am…” You nod, melting beneath his touch when his inked thumbs rub your flesh; he’s toying with his lip ring again and you’re close to lunging forward and kissing him but you resist. “Since you’re so hellbent on following me everywhere.”

“Wouldn’t have to follow you if you stayed.” He sighs quietly, “Would save me a hell of a lot of time, stress and resources. Plus there’s no way mono would fucking dare come after you if they found out we’re back together.”

There’s a lump in your throat that won’t go down, bound by nerves. “I-, Kook we’re not back together… I still, I mean-, we’re still not good for each other.”

“You know your argument would be much more convincing if you weren’t sat on me completely naked right now.” An amused puff of air rips from his nostrils when he smirks. “And that’s where you’re wrong baby… We are good for each other. We keep each other alive.”

But unbeknownst to you, mono anticipated this exact situation. They knew you’d stay together after they found you, they expected nothing less from their rival gang leader and his on-and-off girlfriend’s infatuation with self-destruction.

And they already have a plan in place that will leave one of you dead. 

x

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Guest Side Story

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: T Word Count: 3214

Summary: Sam told Bucky not to flirt with Sarah. But this is her house, so Bucky's pretty sure she makes the rules.

Bucky’s missed white lies. Ones that don’t hurt anybody.

“Is that cigarette smoke I smell on your coat, James Barnes?” “No, Ma. ’Course not.”

“And you’re sure this dame knows it’s my arm she’ll be on?” “Sure, Steve. She’s been after me to fix the two of you up for weeks.”

Stuff like that.

Past few years, Bucky’s either been transparent or a brick wall, all lies or all truth. Which one he loses more sleep over just depended on the day. The most human thing, he’s learning, is to work with a little of both: fact and fiction. Give something here, hold something back there. Lying doesn’t have to be mean-spirited and telling the truth doesn’t have to make him feel hollow and guilty. Maybe you can only realize this kinda thing when you find your way home, even if the home isn’t yours.

Bucky’s standing in the kitchen listening to Cass teach him how to fish. It’s purely theoretical, no gear involved, just the overexaggerated motion of Cass’s arm as he mimes casting. Laughing, Bucky lightly grabs the boy’s elbow before it can collide with the refrigerator on an especially big swing. Cass downsizes his demonstration without pausing the excited flow of his instructions.

AJ catches Bucky’s eye; from the look on his face, he’s beginning to suspect that Bucky might already know how to fish. While Cass is focused hard on his hands pretending to show how to fit live bait onto a hook, Bucky smiles at AJ over the smaller boy’s head and raises a finger to his lips. White lies. Let Cass believe he’s the expert.

When Cass is winding down, Bucky moves around him with a grin, carrying an empty plate to the sink.

“I got it!” AJ declares, whisking it from Bucky’s hand and pumping a squirt of dish soap in the center while his other hand runs the hot water.

Cass slotted the Pop-Tarts the plate lately held into the toaster for him (no better end-of-the-day snack, Bucky was told) and now AJ’s cleaning up. They’re a hospitable family, all day long. No phoniness, no insincere offers of help that they’re hoping Bucky won’t take them up on. He actually had to race the kids to the shed to store a toolbox earlier. On the boat, Bucky has room to put in the effort for the Wilsons, but inside the walls of their home he’s not allowed to do a damn thing because he’s a guest. Per square foot of property, he doesn’t think he’s ever been treated this well in someone else’s house.

“Fine,” Bucky concedes, “but I’m doing all the dishes tomorrow—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And don’t get up early to drink a glass of orange juice and try to wash it before I’m awake, ’cause I’ll be listening.”

The boys giggle and Bucky leans against the counter, hovering while AJ hands the plate off for Cass to wipe dry and pretending not to listen to Sam and Sarah talking in the next room.

…But there isn’t a full wall separating the kitchen from the living room and Sam knows Bucky’s hearing’s good, right? He doesn’t think they’re discussing anything that private and if Sam’s annoyed with him later for what he supposes Bucky might’ve heard, Bucky’ll just offer up another white lie and swear he couldn’t hear a thing. And Sarah… Sarah wouldn’t think any worse of him if she knew. Bucky imagines she’d have a lot of compassion for his frequent urge to give Sam a hard time just for the hell of it. He flicks a quick glance over his shoulder, just to see her, and concentrates on what they’re saying, giving himself vague permission because he overheard his name.

“This was your idea,” Sarah’s saying. “You brought the stray cat home, just like when we were kids.”

“Don’t compare him to something cute,” Sam complains. Bucky’s mouth tenses to keep his smile from spreading too far.

“He is a guest in my home, Sam, and he’s more than earned it after the work he’s been putting in with the boat.”

“And what about the work you’ve been putting in watching him do that work?”

“Sam. Grow up.” Sarah’s voice is playful and Bucky almost turns, wondering what her expression looks like.

“So you’ve just been appreciating his skill with a wrench and some sandpaper,” Sam says skeptically.

“If I’m also appreciating his shoulders in that shirt— if—” she emphasizes when Sam tries to interrupt, “—it’s nobody’s business but mine.”

“Ok, you definitely can’t have him sleeping on the couch.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Try to sneak him to my bedroom after lights out? With you listening, trying to catch us? Uh uh. Your sister is a grown woman with two children, a home, and a boat she couldn’t manage to sell, and she can lust where she damn well pleases.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh and AJ gives him a funny look. Kid’s too perceptive.

“He’s tricky,” Sam lectures. “You can’t see it, but I do. I’ve been around him a hell of a lot more. You think he smiles like that at everybody? If he smiles at me at all, I gotta assume he just looked up and saw a meteor hurtling towards where we’re standing and is only smiling because we’ve got seconds to live and I won’t be able to tell anybody.”

“You are hilarious.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re telling me your friend is charming. That’s what you’re describing. Don’t I deserve to be charmed? Where else is he gonna sleep, huh? With you? In one of the boys’ little beds while they share the other one? Because I know you’re not suggesting we skip the pretense and put him right in with me.”

Sam lets out a noise of obvious frustration.

“Time to intervene,” Bucky tells Cass and AJ, leaving them to swap confused shrugs in the kitchen as he saunters into the living room.

“Hey,” Sam greets stonily, arms crossed over his chest.

Just for fun, Bucky decides to be all the friendlier.

“It’s so great of you to put me up. Thanks, Sarah. This beats a hotel by a mile.”

“Our gourmet kitchen does offer an impressive range of sugary cereal,” she jokes. “I might even cook you boys a special breakfast tomorrow before you head back to the dock.”

Bucky’s grin widens.

“Oh yeah? I wouldn’t wanna—”

“No, it’s no trouble—”

“Well, that would be—”

“Both of you stop it,” Sam orders.

“Sam, go outside,” Sarah orders right back. “Play some tag with your nephews.”

“Sarah, I’m beat. We’ve been working on that boat all day.”

“Mhmm, you and the rest of the neighbourhood. You worked all day and you come home and there’s still two kids to entertain. But guess what?” She smiles deviously at her brother and throws a few fake punches at his stomach. “You’re Sam Wilson, the Falcon! Looks like you’re special after all. Me and Bucky here know you’ve still got some gas in the tank. Go on.”

Sam looks fairly planted to the spot as he glares from his sister to Bucky, but he eventually moves with a lurching step.

“I’m gonna be right outside,” he warns.

Bucky sidesteps out of his path and says nothing, though it’s hard to resist the instinct to egg him on.

“We’re gonna have a super-secret discussion about which towels he can use,” Sarah goads at her brother’s back.

Sam ignores her, corralling his nephews in the kitchen and guiding them out the door into the fading daylight with a hand on each of their narrow backs.

“Great kids,” Bucky observes.

Sarah nods, watching her family disappear, then turns to him.

“We’re not really gonna talk about towels.”

“No?”

Bucky’s eyebrows rise in surprise and delighted anticipation until Sarah grabs a folded blanket off the back of the couch and passes it to him.

“We’re making up the couch.”

“Oh.”

This is ok too. Actually, really nice, standing next to Sarah and unfolding the blanket as she stuffs a pillow into a clean case. Her eyes find his already on her and he swears he almost blushes; he’s been smoothing out the same crease in this blanket for a good thirty seconds with no result, just watching her easy movements, the way she flips her braids back when they fall forward over her shoulder.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” she says, lingering once they’re done.

“I woulda slept on the floor. A closet, even, like Harry Potter.”

“You read Harry Potter? Don’t tell the boys—they’ll be bugging you to play wizards with them.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, I just watched the movie.”

“Which one?”

“There’s more than one?”

“You really better not bring it up then,” Sarah advises. “They’d try to tell you everything at once.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get in out of my depth.”

It feels like a significant look they exchange after his words. Bucky wants it to be—he thinks he does—but he feels awkward, romantically clumsy. Heartstrings tied together like shoelaces, waiting to trip him up. He’s been telling himself she’s only being kind, but after eavesdropping on her conversation with Sam, he knows she’s interested. In his shoulders at the very minimum. Was that right? His shoulders? Just in case, Bucky does his best to square them. Can’t hurt.

He’s fucking ecstatic when Sarah does glance down briefly, her gaze returning to his face with something flustered in it. Sure, she’s a mom and she runs a business, but it’s like she told Sam: she deserves to be charmed. Bucky’s not entirely sure he’s doing it right though.

“So,” she says, “Sam was just being a pain when he tried to convince me you can’t sleep on the couch because you’ve got a bad back, right?”

Bucky sighs but keeps smiling. It’s natural in her presence.

“I’d say that’s him making old-man jokes about me.”

“I apologize for my brother and his bad manners.”

“Ah, he’s not totally wrong,” he concedes, perching on the arm of the couch. “These last few birthdays have required more candles than you could fit on a cake.”

“Then you just have to get yourself a bigger cake.”

Bucky laughs.

“I guess optimism’s pretty much a family trait?”

“We work at it. They say you need to take the good with the bad, but they don’t tell you that means creating the good out of nothing a lot of the time, if you want any at all. The Wilsons worked that out some time ago, so we mostly do alright.”

“It’s a good feeling to be around,” he tells Sarah earnestly. Clearing his throat, he gets to his feet. “Feels good, being around you.”

“We’re… I’m happy you could stay with us.”

The light’s softened in the room and her voice has gone with it. Bucky shifts on his feet.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he assures her.

Sarah’s eyelashes flutter when she looks from his mouth to his eyes. Probably too try-hard to bite his lip now. God, Sam thinks Bucky’s so suave with Sarah, but it feels like he’s only got one move and it’s fucking smiling. Some Casanova he is. Sarah, meanwhile, is beautiful and authoritative and generous and moving closer to toss the pillow he’ll rest his head on tonight onto the couch.

“Anything else you need to be comfortable?” she asks, gaze slipping from one of his eyes to the other. “Another pillow? Pajamas?”

“I’ve got some, but…”

“But?”

Sarah gives him a questioning look and Bucky starts summoning the courage to make a move. He’ll touch her waist—no, take her hand. He’ll cup her sweet face so there’s no doubt what he means.

“But,” he picks up, “if I get cold in the night…”

There’s longing in her eyes, Bucky knows it, but Sam bangs in the screen door right then, one nephew squealing where he’s been slung over Sam’s shoulder.

“Well,” Sam announces loudly to the house at large, “that’s it! No more gas in the tank! Everybody get to bed!”

Sarah appears sorry as she steps back. Bucky almost reaches out to pull her in, to take another shot with another lousy line. Shit, he’s bad at this.

“There are more blankets in the hall closet,” she says, and slips away.

“Thank you,” he calls after her.

Sam walks past, Cass still dangling upside-down over his back while AJ runs ahead, and watches Bucky like a hawk (or some other bird of prey) as he digs through his overnight bag. What’s Sam expecting him to pull out? A strip of condoms? Bucky extracts a green toothbrush and holds it up with an expression of fake wonder. Sam rolls his eyes and heads off down the hall.

They are going to bed early, barely 9pm. That’s probably late for the kids though. Bucky’s pleasantly weary after a day outdoors, more working than talking, feeling like part of something as the Wilsons’ community came together to repair the boat. Seeing Sarah throughout. Flashing Bucky a smile while she spoke to a neighbour, grasping his outstretched hand to let him help her aboard so she could see their progress, checking Sam’s work like she’s his foreman while Bucky grinned and watched the siblings good-naturedly pick at each other. Sam was probably out like a light and Bucky should be too.

He’s not.

He can’t get to sleep right away, but it’s peaceful to lie here on the couch, on his back, while the house gets dark and darker. Sarah left the nearest window cracked for him and a gentle breeze washes in with the chirp of insects. Bucky’s already looking forward to being woken by the sun streaming through in the morning. It’d be good to get from now to daylight in a single stretch of sleep; that’s what he fantasizes about while he lies on his back: no nightmares. His head’s propped up by the pillow he tells himself smells like Sarah, though it probably just smells like her laundry soap.

It’s hard to put his finger on what’s missing, why he can’t fall asleep, until he hears the soft shuffle of footsteps on carpet. They’re too close together to be Sam’s—either hesitant or made by child-sized feet. Bucky cranes his neck around, expecting to see someone walk past on their way to the kitchen for a glass of water. His gaze roams over nothing for a minute, then he slumps back as the footsteps retreat. Maybe it was Sam after all, getting up to look in on his nephews or something. It’s the sorta thing Bucky would do if he were an uncle; he’d treasure the time with those kids, try to remember everything about his visit so he could hang on to it when he found himself half a world away, in Berlin or Riga or Madripoor.

He’s settling, trapping the blanket against his chest with a heavy hand, when he hears the footsteps approach again. Then back away seconds later. Slowly, Bucky starts to smile to himself. It’s Sarah. Can only be her. She’s either trying to psych herself up to come in here and talk to him and failing, or trying to resist venturing down the hall and succeeding.

On her next attempt, she gets closer, and Bucky sits up, kicking the blanket aside, and drops his feet to the floor in anticipation of her rounding the corner. He’s nervously gripping the couch cushion on either side of his knees when she does.

“You sneaking past Sam?” he asks quietly.

Sarah jumps, pressing a hand to her chest.

“You scared me. I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”

Bucky shrugs, dreamily fixated on her smile. One of her neighbours turns on their porchlight and now Sarah can probably see his smile too.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says.

“Shoot. Did you need something else?”

Kinda funny how she’s pretending she was coming out here for another reason and is just making a detour for him. He knows better, but he’s got enough remnants of being a gentleman not to call her out on it.

“Nah. It’s nothing to do with you.” Bucky stares at her a few seconds and changes his mind. “You know what? Actually, it is you.”

“What is?” Sarah asks with a hushed, confused laugh.

“The reason I can’t get to sleep. Sarah…”

But she smiles and does what he did to the boys earlier—holds a finger to her lips.

With the confidence of a woman at ease in her own home and her own body, she steps forward. She wore a yellow t-shirt today, but the one she wears now is pale pink. It’s loose and worn and reveals the strong, elegant curve of her shoulder when she moves and it slips. Gazing up at her, Bucky shifts until he feels the back of the couch. His hands hover in the air as Sarah digs one knee, then the other, into the cushion on either side of him. She lowers herself onto his thighs.

Moving slow like the hour, deep like the black sky, Bucky runs his hands up her back.

Sarah’s palms land on his shoulders and, smiling, she confesses to him, “I like these.”

He’s smirking when she ducks her head to kiss him.

Now that he has her here—on his lap, in his arms—Bucky forgets every way he wanted to touch her earlier. How he was gonna woo her with tender contact applied just right. Well, thank god for Sarah. She sets the pace of the kiss and, when his hands go still at her upper back, reaches around to bring one of them back down to her waist. He can feel that there’s no bra beneath her shirt.

“Rusty,” he breathes when their mouths slide apart.

“You were on that old boat all day,” she reminds him. “You know I’ve got patience for rusty.”

Still, Bucky wants to do a little better, prove that maybe he’s what she had in mind when she decided he was worth smiling at. He cradles Sarah closer, pulling her in, dipping his fingers into the valley of her spine when she arches into him. They kiss firmer, then faster. At her quick nod of encouragement, he moves his hands to her hips. Lower.

“Sarah?” Sam slurs sleepily from down the hall. “You outta bed?”

Sarah presses a hand to Bucky’s chest and pushes off his lap, other hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. He chuckles too.

“As the Falcon, timing is one of his greatest strengths.”

“And as his sister,” Sarah counters, “it gets on my last nerve.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna say that, but…” Bucky grins.

“Sarah?” Sam calls out again.

She sighs.

“Is he trying to wake the boys?” She takes a step away from the couch, wearing a regretful smile. “I better go.”

Bucky catches himself before he can blurt out I’ll miss you. Overeager fool.

“See you in the morning?” Sarah checks, something shy about her now, but not in a bad way. Cautiously hopeful, Bucky thinks. He’s been feeling that way himself.

He gives her one more smile for the road.

“You bet.”

[2jaeh]

THREE DAYS  I  LEE TAEYONG

When your over controlling boyfriend invites you and his best friend to a three day resort did he not see trouble approaching? especially when said best friend has been trying to get in bed with you since the moment he met you.

Genre: mature theme, slight smut

warnings: cheating, suggestive masterbation, slight public scenes, cursing. 

words: 3k

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“Are you sure it's okay for me to tag along ?” Taeyong spoke into the phone as he threw a dress shirt into his already overflowing suitcase. “Okay cool, well I`ll see you guys at the resort then.” Taeyong sighed as he cut the call and took a good look at himself in the mirror. He wondered if he was too overdressed, or not dressed enough. He bit down on his lip and looked at the caller ID, his best friend Inseong holding on to the person Taeyong desired most, Inseong`s girlfriend. 

He had no idea when this “crush” began, if you could call it that at this point. Inseong and Taeyong had been casual university friends for a while but it was after graduation, when they both got hired by the same corporate office did they really establish a close friendship. 

Taeyong and Inseong did most things together, whether it be catching up at music events or a sunday afternoon golf trip. But if he were being honest, the real reason he loved hanging out with Inseong was because he knew he’d bring her around, the girl who had stolen his heart without having the slightest clue. 

DAY 1 : FRI

“Taeyong is afraid he is going to third wheel” Inseong chuckled as he concentrated on the open road in front of him, casually looking over at you scoffing down a bag of jelly tots. 

“Youre working though” you stuck your tongue out at him, “Im gonna be just as alone as he is.”

“I guess you are” Inseong let out a sigh, “I don't understand why the dude cant get a date though he’s pretty good looking right?”

“Uhm yeah he's attractive.” Attractive was an understatement. You will never forget the day Inseong introduced you to Taeyong, It was around the time you two just started dating about two years ago, and you had never seen someone that good looking up close before. It wasn't the fact that you didn’t find your boyfriend attractive, you loved Inseong and he was a good looking guy but Taeyong, he was different. 

Taeyong barely spoke to you but he was always polite and had a warm aura unlike the rest of Inseongs friends. He was the one you got along with most and because of that Inseong had a habit of inviting him on many of your trips, much like the one you're venturing on now. 

You stuffed the empty snack packets into a trash bag as Inseong pulled into a very fancy resort one you weren't quite familiar with. Inseong was actually on a work trip that involved meeting with potential clients and partners, this did not include Taeyongs sector but their boss allowed him to bring you two along as a treat. Inseong’s firm absolutely adored him, which made sense because he was practically married to his job. 

“I'm going to get the room keys” Inseong placed a peck on your cheek and you watched him jog off to the front desk while you meandered around the foyer of the hotel. 

“y/n” you heard a chirpy voice call from behind you. Turning you were met with those bold black orbs and that ever so charming smile.

“Taeyong” you grinned back pulling him into a tight hug that drowned you in his rich scented perfume. 

Taeyong wasn't sure if you noticed his fingers linger on the small of your back. He would always leave you small signs but you’d never notice. His bright eyes dulled for a second when your attention turned back to Inseong who returned with the room keys. 

“Oh you're here great! y/n and I are staying in the room next to yours, do you mind taking her up ?” Inseong said, handing Taeyong both sets of keys. 

“What? You’re not coming up to see the room ?” you asked, a little hurt that he was already ditching you on this trip. 

“Sorry honey they want to do a meet and greet and tour of the resort, i'll be up as soon as it's over” Inseong gently stroked your head and you watched him walk off with one of the resort employees.

“I guess it's just you and me then” Taeyong smiled although regretting his words when he saw the fake smile grace your face and made your way over to the elevators. Taeyong was all too familiar with this scene. Inseong being busy, he excludes you from the rest of his corporate friends and eventually calls on him to babysit you. He wondered if you resented him solely because of Inseong’s habits. He tried his best to always make you feel comfortable even if it put him in the most uncomfortable position both mentally...and physically. 

“Well I'm going to take a nap so I'll see you around I guess” you pressed your lips together and took the room key from him. 

“Are you not gonna eat anything ? We could go down for Lun-”

“I'm good Taeyong, I'll see you later okay ?” Taeyong watched as you disappeared into the room and it felt like he had been punched in his stomach. 

DAY 2 : SAT

Taeyong lay in bed utterly exhausted after barely getting a wink of sleep courtesy of the screaming match that happened last night. Although muffled, Taeyong already knew it was about Inseong coming back at around 3am. ‘What meeting would go on until that time especially on the first day’ Taeyong thought as he rubbed his bare chest and stared up at the ceiling. Inseong loved his job and he loved socializing with people who shared that interest. To him coming home at that time absolutely plastered was normal, because it was part of his work lifestyle. 

Taeyong groaned and turned onto his stomach, burying his head into the pillow as he heard your sobs replaying in his head from the fight. He was tired of sitting around not doing anything when he knew for a fact he could treat you way better. At moments like this he didn't give two shits about Inseong, especially after he got the new promotion and made a new friend group of pretentious assholes. Taeyong wanted to be with you by your own choice, he wanted to hang out with you without Inseongs name attached to the reason you two were together. 

Just as he was lost in his thoughts Taeyong’s ears perked at the sound of Inseong leaving the room and the sound of the shower running. 

“No fuck not now please not now” Taeyong groaned as he felt shudder overcome his body and his underwear became slightly restricted. His mind raced with thoughts of you. It all came to him so quickly he barely noticed that his hand was already down his sweatpants as he buried his face further into his pillow. He wished he was with you. The things he would do to you were unspeakable. He wouldn't give a shit if Inseong walked through those doors finding him on top of girlfriend, he didn't care. 

You finished drying yourself off and put on a cute yellow sundress that hugged your curves, showing off the two piece bikini that Inseong told you not to wear around the resort especially when he wasn't with you. This was payback for the way he treated you last night. Not only did he ditch you in a foreign room for an entire evening, he also returned drunk out of his mind and blamed you as usual for not taking care of him. You wanted to at least enjoy whatever you could from this trip and if it meant looking hot and hanging out with Taeyong, then so be it. 

You made your way next door and rang the doorbell patiently waiting for your assigned babysitter. Taeyong swung open the door, dressed in only in a pair of black harem pants and a towel on his neck that he used to dry his hair. You took in the site of his bare chest, drinking in his pretty figure that matched his gorgeous face. 

“I'm sorry I was gonna go down for breakfast I was wondering….i’ll just wait outside”  you stuttered and you heard Taeyong giggle

“Come inside y/n.” 

You walked inside his room and it was surprisingly neat in comparison to yours. You felt kinda embarrassed at the state of your room even though most of it were Inseongs doing anyway. 

Taeyong continued drying his hair as he watched you scan his room, his eyes already on your figure in that goddamn sundress. His only thoughts were ripping it off until he noticed you were staring right back at him. 

“Your hair is sticking up a bit at the back, here let me help you” 

Taeyong watched as you approached his figure and reached up to neaten his hair. He really admired his will power to keep his hands off your body as you inched closer and closer to him. 

“Thanks” he smiled sweetly masking his dark intent and threw on a loose hawaiian shirt gesturing towards the door, “shall we?”

The two of you had a decent day lounging around the pool area and took a stroll on the beach before heading back for lunch. You never expected to bump into Inseong and his colleagues during lunch and the way Inseong looked at your outfit, you knew you’d never hear the end of it. He practically ignored you the entire time while he and his friends chatted away, even going as far as introducing Taeyong to a few of them but not you. 

Just before you and Taeyong made your way to the elevators to retreat back to the rooms, Inseong jogged over and tugged on your wrist. 

“I know we had it out last night but was all of this really necessary ?” Inseong gritted his teeth as he looked over your skimpy outfit. 

“I thought it was cute, not everything I do is to ruin your perfect life Inseong” you rolled your eyes and pressed the button to signal the elevator. 

Inseong let out an exasperated sigh and released your wrist before massaging his temple. 

“Just dont pull this kinda shit at the dinner tomorrow please, the chairman is going to be there.”

You and Taeyong watched as Inseong stomped away and Taeyong noticed that for once instead of beating yourself up about Inseongs reaction you seemed somewhat proud to piss him off to that extent. 

“I'm sorry you're always in the middle of all of this Taeyong” you apologized as the two of you stepped onto your floor and made your way to the rooms. 

“It's okay y/n it's not your fault, and besides I think you look ridiculously hot in that dress” he replied and licked his lips as you felt your face heat up with his bold words. “Also,” he continued as he scanned his room key

“I think you should own it, wear something sexy tomorrow, not for Inseong but for yourself and maybe a little for me.” 

DAY 3 : SUN

You looked at yourself in the mirror, smoothing out the classy black velvety dress you had saved for a night out. The dress was intended for a Valentines date with Inseong but that never happened because he had a more important meeting to attend. 

As you made final touches to your outfit you wondered if subconsciously you did also dress up for Taeyong. God the way he looked at you when he told you to wear something sexy, you hadn't felt flustered yet intrigued like that in a long time. 

You put on the final touches to your make up and made your way down to the banquet room. You already felt a bit awkward as you noticed a few people stare at you and whisper until you saw Taeyong. You barely noticed Inseong sit directly in front of him, all you could see was Taeyongs dark eyes taking every bit of you in. 

Inseong’s eyes though we're different. He looked annoyed but still got up to help you into your seat which was weirdly next to Taeyong instead of him. But then it dawned on you when you noticed that the name card next to him was the chairman. 

Typical. That was all he cared about in the end. 

Taeyong’s eyes were still on you as you took your seat, unbothered if Inseong even noticed at this point, he was in awe. Did you dress up because he told you to ? Did you dress up for yourself and maybe, just maybe for him ?

“You look gorgeous y/n” he whispered, his deep voice sent a shiver down your spine. You brushed your hair behind your ear and nodded a thank you, trying to keep your focus elsewhere. Although Taeyong was conversing with the people at the table something made you feel as if you still had his full attention. 

You almost jumped when you felt his cold fingers trace circles on your knee, his focus was still in his conversation but yours was solely on his movements. Taeyong lightly squeezed your thigh to test the waters, a smirk he indefinitely couldn't hide graced his face and he allowed his hand to move higher. 

You gulped as he began to move, completely entranced by his touch as you felt him trace more circles on your upper thigh until his hand settled in your lap. Taeyong moved his chair closer to you and the table in order to obstruct the view of a passerby or any suspicious eyes at the table. 

“You work with Inseong right?” a man said to Taeyong as he laced his fingers with yours under the table.

All of it was so incredibly promiscuous but it gave you an adrenaline rush and Taeyong knew you were completely on board when you squeezed his hand back and bit down on your lip. 

Taeyong grabbed your hand and placed it in his own lap, allowing you to feel exactly what you were doing to him at this moment. You sucked in a breath as you palmed him and he gave your thigh another squeeze, this time much harder, rougher than before. 

Eventually into the night you decided to excuse yourself and Inseong preferred it anyway. You couldn't believe how oblivious he was to the closeness of you and Taeyong that it only angered you even more of how he would really choose these fake people over his girlfriend for the night. 

As you made your way to the elevator you didn't even realise Taeyong had already followed you there, putting on his usual laid back demeanor. The two of you stepped into the elevator and it was silent. You wondered why he was so quiet especially after pulling that stunt during dinner. Completely confused you grabbed your room key but before you could scan it Taeyong blocked your path, scanning his room key and pulled you inside his room not giving you any time to process this. 

He was all over you, his lips his hands his body, you felt almost every part of him as he pressed you against the wall. He used his knee to separate your legs as he planted open mouthed kisses on your neck, practically growling into your ear when he heard a moan escape your lips. 

“I-I didn't do anything in case someone from dinner saw us” he explained as he found the hook of your dress but stopped to look in your eyes, “are you okay with this?” 

You answered him by practically ripping open his white dress shirt and ran your hands down his body. Taeyong smirked and moved you to the bed, ridding himself of his shoes and trousers before attacking your neck once more. 

“I'm sorry if this all moves too fast I literally can't help myself” he growled once more as you got undressed and the sight of you in your scantily clad underwear made him lightheaded. 

“Well its best we hurry the fuck up before that asshole comes back” you sighed as you pulled him on top of you. 

“Fuck I dont want to hear about him, youre mine right now” Taeyong groaned and skillfully unclipped your bra and rid you of your lace panties. You bit down on your lip as you watched him pull down his boxers and free his member, licking your lips unconsciously. 

“Don't worry baby you can suck it next time” he teased and without warning pushed himself into you with one brisk movement. The room filled with both of your moans as Taeyong’s hips slammed into yours, while one hand laced his fingers with yours while the other was wrapped around your throat. 

“Oh my God Taeyong” you cried completely in ecstasy thanks to the way Taeyong handled you. He was animalistic yet not hurting you in any way. His eyes burned holes into yours as he moved his hips faster and faster until you came undone and he followed straight after. 

Taeyong quickly cleaned you up and kissed you softly, his touches were much lighter as he held your face in his hands moving his lips gracefully against yours. 

“I'm going to end things with him Taeyong I can't take it anymore” you rested your head on his chest as he stroked your hair. 

“I know baby just do whats best for you, and just know I actually do like you like really fucking like you” he replied and he felt you smile. 

“You fell for me in three days ?” you giggled against his chest. 

“No baby i've liked you since the day I met you, these three days were for you to finally come to your senses.”

[pwarkluv]

❝ what is love? - l.mk ❞

lee mark x reader | fluff | 2k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, idol au, love at first sight au, 6thmemberofitzy!reader, shy!mark and shy!reader, fluff bc that’s what i’m best at LOL, another request :), just enjoy <3

REQUEST | “hii i read ur electric love fic w jisung and i really loved it :DD could you do the same for mark ? still as the 6th member of itzy ofc :D” - my lovely anon <3

SUMMARY | he wonders what is love, but finds the answer in you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “what is love” by twice (english lyrics by genius translations)! ANOTHER REQUEST HDSFKLDSJHF IM SO SO SO SO EXCITED! i wanted to change up the setting so it’s still 6th member itzy, but not in weekly idol :P ALSO this was inspired by when nct dream, itzy, and stray kids sat next to each each other in that one award show so yeah lolol. IM SO SORRY I LOST THE MESSAGE WHERE MY ANON ASKED FOR IT BUT I STILL WROTE IT FOR YOU! I LOVE YOU, THANK YOU, NEVER BE SHY TO DM ME ;)

what is love?

mark knew the general idea of it; the sappy moments movies show, the “butterflies in your stomach” feeling books portray, the pain and hardships songs make you feel. 

but he’s never been in love, at least not like this.

❝ how could it be as sweet as candy? ❞

training at such a young age molded mark into the perfect idol, and with that he was fully aware dating would look bad to the public. he accepted the fact that he might never find love, all to help achieve his dream. 

but as cheesy as it sounds, the canadian wished to be loved. 

yes he was loved by his members, his family, his friends, his fans; but the type of love he longed for was something none of them could give him. 

mark wanted to feel the sweetness of being in love, the giddiness you’d feel whenever you talk to them, the pounding of your heart whenever they’re near. he wanted to experience the overwhelming need to be with that person, like if they’re gone for too long it’s like you can’t breathe.

was being in love like making a song for the very first time? or was it like eating watermelon all the time?

so many questions with no answers, the boy left to wander in his own thoughts. 

❝ how it’s like flying in the sky? ❞

he smiled bittersweetly as the newly wed couple danced around in confetti, the sound of laughter and cheers resonating around the room. one of nct’s managers that had been with them since the beginning invited them to her wedding, to which the team obviously accepted. 

all 23 of them were happy for their noona who found her happy ending. mark could only watch in awe at the sight of the two lovebirds, the love and adoration for the other evident in the way they looked at each other.

his heart tugged a bit knowing he wanted something like that too. 

“being in love is like flying in the sky.” his manager explained to the boy as a makeup artist experimentally brushed strokes on her face. it was a couple hours before the ceremony when mark knocked on her hotel door, wanting to visit his favorite noona before she finally said ‘i do’. 

his question left his mouth before mark could fully register what he was about to say, the poor boy flushing a bit as the woman laughed at him. 

“are you in love mark? is that why you’re asking me how i knew i was in love?” she teased as mark stutterd, denying her accusation.

“n-no i swear!” he said as his manager continued laughing, the makeup artist having to pause a bit to let her get it all out. “i’m just curious.” mark said quietly trying to stop the heat from rushing up to his cheeks. 

“well being in love is a magical feeling.” the woman said, turning a bit serious. mark sat up straight as he listened intently. “when you realize you love someone, it can be a scary thing. love isn’t perfect mark, and i want you to know that. there are moments where you want to scream and rip your hair out, or cry to let it all out.”

the boy nodded in understanding, having a bit of knowledge from all the good breakup songs taylor swift writes about. 

“but it can also change your whole world.” she continued on. “it’s like seeing the world again for the very first time and the colors are more vibrant. it’s like having a permanent reason to be happy, and a reason to stay.” she explained as the mark sat quietly trying to comprehend it all. 

❝ i wanna know know know know, what is love? ❞

the poor boy’s head couldn’t wrap around the thought of you. 

his heart hammered in his chest as he secretly glanced at you, desperately trying to avoid suspicion from fans and his members. you were just too breathtaking, having the canadian looking back for more. 

the moment he first laid eyes on you, it was like an epiphany. you were the answer to all his questions.

so this is what it feels like, mark thinks to himself as he looks back on all the things he’s heard about love. 

the butterflies, the pounding of your heart, the “seeing the world in a whole new perspective”, mark felt everything and as much as he felt excited, he was scared.

as harmless as it sounds, award shows were a risky thing for idols. being surrounded by fans of different groups as well as said groups themselves always seemed to cause a bit of a stir between fans.

between dating rumors and rumors about beef between two idols, anything could happen.

but usually mark would be okay. he’s been doing this for a long time and knew how to behave.

however what he didn’t expect was to see you, the tiny rookie idol from the newly debuted girl group ‘itzy’. 

nct 127’s table was right next to yours which let mark have a clear view of your pretty eye smile as you laughed at something lia had whispered into your ear. your laugh was bubbly and contagious, the boy having to physically stop himself from wanting to laugh too. 

he was panicking, but mark couldn’t tell if it was in a good or bad way. 

❝ what does love feel like? ❞

your breath hitched as you saw the boy sneak glances at you from the corner of your eye.

the mark lee was looking at you, your heart racing as you tried to deny the fact that he was staring you down. there was no way the dude you’ve looked up to your entire trainee life is noticing you, no way at all.  

everyone has heard of mark lee even if you weren’t into kpop. he was just that iconic. 

you’ve been an nctzen since the very beginning, being there for nct u’s debut stage. in fact, nct was the very reason you decided to audition to become an idol in the first place. you looked up to the team but more importantly you looked up to a certain canadian in the group.

originally doyoung was your bias in nct when nct u first came out. but as the years passed by you found yourself more and more intrigued by mark, having him absolutely wreck your bias list.

since then you’ve been a loyal mark stan, even rapping his part in cherry bomb for your audition tape which ultimately led you to become an idol yourself. 

you refused to believe you were in love with the dude, not knowing a single thing about him. there was no way you could love him, not if you’ve never even met the boy.

but your heart seemed to prove you wrong as it beat wildly knowing mark was sitting right there on the table next to you. 

“you okay bubs?” lia asked in a worried tone, leaning in to whisper into your ear. she saw the way your leg bounced in a fast rhythm, knowing you only did that when you were nervous. 

you forced a smile as you hesitantly looked her way, knowing that she could take one look into your eyes and know you were lying. “i'm fine unnie, don’t worry about me.” you replied as sweetly as you could, wishing the elder wouldn’t notice a thing. 

though you two and yeji were the eldest in the group, all being born in the year 2000, you were the baby of the unnie line. lia and yeji knew you the best, having grown up with you after all. 

the girl only gave you a look before taking your hand in hers to give a soft squeeze. “i know you’re lying but i won’t push you. also mark lee from nct 127 is totally checking you out.” lia said, whispering a bit on the last part. she winked as you flushed, looking away in horror. 

-

johnny nudged the boy next to him with a small smirk, clearly seeing the heart eyes he was giving the girl in the table next to them. mark jumped a bit at the feeling, looking at his hyung with confusion.

“so y/n of itzy?” johnny said with a small smile as the younger immediately sat up straight. 

“is it that obvious?” mark whispered back with a hint of fear in his eyes.

if any of the fans were to get a hold of this… the boy could only shiver at the thought. 

johnny’s playful smile dropped a bit at mark’s worried look knowing how he must feel. they were idols after all.

“don’t worry, i only noticed because she was looking back at you too.” he said, mark flushing at the revelation.

“really?” he asked a little out of it. 

“i say talk to her after this?” the elder said, laughing a bit when mark jumped in his seat, immediately saying no. 

❝ will love come to me someday? ❞

“unnie why are you making me stay in the dressing room~” you whined as the end of the award show came along.

you just wanted to go home, your body worn out. not from all the dancing but from the way it viciously pounded in your chest whenever you ever thought about mark. 

lia only smirked in retaliation as she brought a hand up to squish your cheeks. “trust me, you’ll thank me later.” she said as she walked out of the dressing room, bumping into a 6 foot tall boy with a smaller boy behind him. 

“oops sorry.” she said a little playfully, as lia gave a wink to johnny knowing their plan was going accordingly. johnny only gave her a small smile, but if you looked closely you could see the mischief in his eyes. 

“hyung where are we going?” mark asked, a little weirded out by the two’s interaction. johnny only ignored the boy, dragging him by his arm as they walked down the hallway. 

“hyung i swear if this is a prank i’ll-” mark’s words were cut off as the two entered a door, only to see your confused face staring back at him. 

“oh shit.” he cursed under his breath, a little taken aback from how beautiful you were. one whole award show later and you were still as gorgeous as when he first saw you sitting down in the table next to his. 

your confused face quickly turned to an embarrassed one as you noticed the boy, turning another shade of red when you noticed he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“hi y/n, my name is johnny and this is my band mate mark.” the taller boy said, holding his hand out in a handshake. 

“h-hi i’m y/n.” you stuttered, not expecting to see the boy you’ve been daydreaming about for the past two hours to be right in front of you. 

mark gawked at the sight of you, his mind malfunctioning as the words seemed to get stuck at the tip of his tongue.

“markie right here has something he wants to ask you.” johnny said, pushing the younger in front of him with a grunt. 

this seemed to knock him right out of his trance, a hand coming up to the back of his neck as he stared down at the floor with pink cheeks.

“do you maybe wanna-”

“yes.” you blurted out, a hand covering your mouth in shock. “i-if you were gonna ask if i wanted to hang out sometime, the answer is yes.” you said a little shyly as the boy smiled. 

all this time mark thought he was gonna find love, but maybe love found him instead. 

“i’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow evening.” mark said with a sweet smile as he took a step back only to be pushed back up again by johnny.

“you don’t even have her number you dumbass.” the elder scolded, disappointed at how dumb the boy was. 

your laughter caught both of the boy’s attention as you put your hand out with a small smile. “you want my number or nah?”