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starsofang · 1 year ago

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Finish Line

Street Racer!AU / Part 1

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Returning to the racing world in a new city proves to be futile when one of the racers has it out for you. He's determined to take you down, and you're determined to win.

TW: will be added for future parts, reader has a biker name but does not have a referenced name otherwise

A/N: if you’ve seen blade runner or cyberpunk, those were the vibes i’m going for. but basically all street racer!141 are in this, pray for me <3

The radiant glow of luminescent neons flooded your vision as you lifted yourself off of the bike you’d ridden into town, casting arrays of purples and blue along the span of your skin, reflecting blinding shimmers off of the glossy shine of your bike.

The city was boisterous around you. The streets filled with a variety of people covered in racing gear or alternative twists in their style. All sorts of glitzy colors adorning their bodies, mirroring the image of the neon city and blending them in. Crazy was the best word to describe it. Hectic, maddening hysteria that littered the city like a plague.

You stood in the midst of it all, taking in the booming voices that carried through the air of excited participants in the race that was soon to begin. It was a frenzy even being in the city, and you found yourself sticking to the side of your bike and opting to watch instead of join. After all, you knew nobody, and this was your first race – at least, your first one in a long time, and in a new city on top of that.

You’d never been in a place so lively before, and perhaps that was the appeal to it all. People were excited. They treated street racing like a sport rather than the crime it was. Illegal, unhinged, dangerous.

It was the most life-threatening sport one could get into, and you were one of those unfortunate souls who had a knack for speed.

“Takin’ it all in?” An unfamiliar voice geared its way towards you through the chaos, and when you looked over, you saw an older man with kind eyes and a heavy-set beard. Upon further inspection, you noticed his left leg was purely robotic, all metal and fancy tech, a neon outline tracing along the ridges and curves.

“It’s a lot,” you breathed in response, earning a hum of acknowledgement from the mystery man.

“Sure is,” he agreed, though his wide smile and twinkling eyes made it seem as if he preferred it that way. “You racin’ tonight, doll?”

You glanced over at your bike from beside you. Purple, matching the fluorescent city, and fast as hell when you knew how to control it. “I am. First race in a while. Are you?”

The man chuckled lowly, shaking his head. He tapped his knuckles against the cool metal of his leg, giving you a cheeky smile that poked through the fur on his face. “Can’t race with a leg like this. People might think I’m cheatin’.”

The tone of his voice was teasing, and it brought your own laugh out. “I wouldn’t say it’s cheating. Maybe just a bit of modification, is all.”

He laughed again, and the sound of it eased the original tension that consumed you from the sight of a new crowd in a new city. “I like the way you think, doll. I’m John. John Price.”

Your eyebrows raised at the name, and you stared at him with a look of surprise and awe. His hand was outstretched to shake yours, and when you shook off your initial shock, you reached out to grab it.

John Price. Even in other cities unlike this one, like your own, John Price was a name whispered amongst other racers. A true street racer, one that took win after win like it was easy. In his day and time, he was the best of the best, and if you knew he was in your race, it was promised fate that you would lose to him.

Nobody knew what happened to him after he disappeared from the racing crowd, but judging from the robotic leg, you could piece together the picture.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you greeted politely, your hands clasping together to give each other a firm shake before releasing. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Really?” he hummed in amusement, feigning humility. “Didn’t take it that others knew about me in other cities.”

“How’d you know I wasn’t from here?”

“Oh, I can tell, doll. You looked like a poor lamb walkin’ into a wolf’s den, comin’ here,” he teased, and you shifted on your feet in embarrassment. “No need to fret. I’ll introduce you to a couple of the other racers, get you more acquainted.”

You weren’t sure why he would bother to do so. This race was a competition, and getting to know the other racers you were about to go up against wasn’t exactly in your books for the night. He seemed to recognize the muted confusion, though, because he smiled and beckoned you with a hand to follow him.

“It’s good to know who you’re competin’ against,” he explained as you walked alongside him. Your bike handles were between both of your hands, steering it beside you, too uncertain of the new area to trust anybody to leave it be. “Good to learn their tricks so you can use it against them.”

“Why exactly are you telling me this?” you asked, and he chuckled.

“Haven’t had a new racer in a while. Not a promisin’ one, anyway. Forgive me, but I tend to get a bit excited when somebody new joins the races.”

That made sense, you suppose. He didn’t race anymore, so he thrived off of the thrill of every race. If he couldn’t join, he could certainly watch and observe. Price probably knew all of the ins and outs of every street racer without their knowledge.

You followed him down the bustling streets, passing by crowds of colorful people who were nearly bouncing off the walls in anticipation. The looks you got along the way had you uneasy, but most of them were more curious than cruel, taking in the sight of your bike and the flashy, purple protective gear you wore.

Finding yourself at a rundown looking building that was littered with a vivid glow, you entered what appeared to be a garage. It was filled with various other bikes, as well as an insane amount of toolboxes lining the walls with spare parts scattered carelessly.

Propping your bike up with its kickstand, you stood a bit straighter when Price called out to a group of men on the other side of the garage. One was working on a bike, while the other two were lounged lazily on a beat up couch, bickering with one another.

The sound of Price’s voice seemed to send them into immediate submission, and they stood, making their way over to you.

They were… certainly a mixed pack, weren’t they?

The first man you took notice of was decked out in a bright blue that glowed in curvy patterns along his gear. His hair was shaved into a messy mohawk that flopped languidly atop his head, and his smile was crooked and toothy, creasing his eyes into wrinkly crescents.

The second one had a warmth to him, despite the edginess of his gear. It was deep red and meshed well with the tan of his skin, and just like everything else in this city, provided a neon blaze that you swore would cause you to turn blind at some point.

The third one was incredibly off putting. Cold, stiff, and eyes that bore into you like a knife digging in your skin. It was laced over with poison, threatening to invade your veins and taint your bloodstream. His eyes were the only thing you could see, for the rest of his face was covered by a painted balaclava, the mouth of a skull covering his own. Dark and dangerous, a racer you grew wary of when the time came for competing.

“This here is Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. They won’t bite,” Price assured. You highly doubted that.

You gave them a polite nod of your head, and Soap clasped a hand on your shoulder, beaming at you. His smile was nearly as blinding as the rest of the city, and you wondered briefly if it hurt.

“New comer, eh? Ever raced before?” he asked in enthusiastic curiosity.

“Yeah,” you replied, and Gaz released a low whistle. When you shifted your eyes to him, he was looking at your bike.

“Looks like you have a new competitor, Ghost,” Gaz teased. Ghost didn’t seem amused by it, his eyes continuing to stare you down in silent disapproval.

“Unlikely,” he rumbled dryly.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. Ghost was already giving you the information to know you needed to steer clear of him, both on the streets and off. He was competitive, and you could practically see it burning through his irises, like a raging fire that you had no way of putting out.

It was unfortunate that you were also just as competitive. You had your reasons for returning to racing, and you’d be damned if a man like Ghost attempted to sway you off track.

“Guess we’ll have to see, Ghost,” you chirped. His eyes narrowed in warning, pupils near black from the way he was scoping you out and silently pulling you apart in the clouds of his mind. Price snorted at the tension, but made no attempt to stop it. After all, he liked friendly fire – though, this wasn’t exactly as friendly as it was fire.

“Right,” Ghost grunted, cocking his head at you. His posture was menacing, and you would be smart to ease off the high horse, but you didn’t falter. “Don’t exactly think I caught your name.”

“Maze,” you offered.

Of course, everybody in the racing world only ever went by their biker name. Everybody’s had meaning, a reasoning for being called that. Maze was a name that was pinned to you without so much as a say, based on how effortlessly you could maneuver your way through tangled webs of roads and corners in the midst of chaotic races.

Ghost was a name unheard of, and surely, there was a baleful reason for it.

“Maze,” Ghost repeated with a tongue full of smoking venom. “I guess we’ll see, then.”

It was a threat if you ever knew one, and from the way the others remained perfectly unphased by it, a normal one at best. This was who he was, his true colors, dark and gloomy in comparison to the bright vivids that painted over the city.

Before you could say much else, a blaring sound filled the air, sharp and deafening. It was a shrill in your ears, lacing your eardrums with discomfort

Price’s hand clapped on your back and he gave you a promising grin.

“Best to ready yourself up, doll. I’m excited to see you work your magic.”

You hauled your bike back out on the crowded streets, where electrifying voices shocked through the air like a vice. It was overwhelming, but nothing you weren’t used to. Races were the heat of most cities, and many people partook in the frenzy of events with dripping exhilaration, gathering together in a heap of hectic mess to place their bets on who would come out as the victor.

Tugging your helmet over your head didn’t do much to quiet down the noise, but it allowed you a blanket of dull security, giving you a chance to breathe. You prepared yourself by lining your bike with the others, and when you really studied your surroundings, there were dozens. Each and every bike was crafted with their own unique design and theme, and the drivers occupying them were just as otherworldly. You felt almost like an ant in a big world of antsy animals.

Your gloved hands gripped the handles of your bike, tight and tense, and you sucked in a long breath before releasing it, allowing your shoulders to relax.

Looking around, you noticed Soap was perched next to you on his own bike. When he took notice of you, he propped up his visor to show off his eyes, and from the way they crinkled, you could only assume he was grinning at you. His hand lifted, propping up his thumb in a weak attempt to wish you good luck.

You gave one back to be a good sport, but you knew once the alarms went off and flags were raised, this would be a warzone. There was no friendly competition, only bloodshed and battle.

Ghost’s bike was settled somewhere in front of you by a couple of lanes, and you took a moment to read his body language.

He was just as stiff as before, his shoulders pulled taut and his hands gripping the handles so tight, you were sure his knuckles were white beneath his gloves. His bike was as black as his attitude, nearly disappearing in the night if not for the bright lights reflecting off of them, and his gear matched perfectly with it. The helmet he wore mirrored the design of his balaclava you saw him in, with delicate, white swirls painted on to the mouth of the plastic and etching up to the top.

When you looked at him, he was already looking at you. Even under his visor, you could feel the intensity of his stare, like a looming shadow threatening to pull you by the ankle and yank you into a world of suffocating darkness.

You stared back until he turned away, noticing the small head shake he did to himself, but not minding it.

Competition. This was a competition. May the best racer win.

The wait for the call was dreadful. It racked your bones with unnerving anticipation, edging you towards the fall of a cliff, threatening to push you over. It was a game, body rigid in impatience, but when the sound of a gunshot fired through the air, it all melted away, replaced with premeditated determination.

Instantly, the sounds of revving bikes and screeching tires filtered through your helmet and bled into your ears. Your own joined in the mix, hand quick to accelerate your bike in motion, surging you forward. It was a rush of adrenaline, like a drug shooting through your bloodstream, and it willed you into a state of starved aggression.

All thoughts that had plagued your mind were brushed aside and replaced with nothing but the thought of winning. The prize money was a wealthy sum, and that alone was enough to have you weaving in between the other racers, leaning your body forward for some extra leverage.

Buildings passed by you like a quick blink, the various colors whipping by like a flash. Your vision was filled with the backs of other racers ahead of you, as well as the neon signs that littered every street corner, holograms of food and pretty women from the diversity in night business becoming your most perceived line of sight.

The other bikers were brutal. It showed in the way they tried cutting you off with a sharp flick of their bike when they noticed you trailing behind them, your front wheel nearly kissing their back wheel. It was an aggressive fight for dominance, and for a brief moment, you feared you were biting off more than you could chew.

This was an entirely new city, one you weren’t accustomed to, and these were new riders. You didn’t know the streets like you did back at home, nor did you know the layout for shortcuts. You didn’t know how to adjust to the neon oasis that filled your sight with blinding lights.

The only thing you knew how to do was fight back. And fight back you would.

When you saw the opportunity to speed past the racer in front of you, a man in an all orange suit, you took it. There was a gap so small you were crazy to try and fit through it, but you curled your hand around the bike handle, revving forward and sliding past him so he was on your tail.

You hoped that if Price was watching somewhere, he was somewhat impressed.

The twists and turns of the streets were difficult to maneuver, but not impossible. It was definitely a fight to control your bike on the sharp corners that required lots of tilting of your own body weight, but once you made it past the first couple, it proved to be much smoother than you thought.

The more the race went on, the more your muscle memory of riding came back to you, and it was a thrilling fun rather than a daunting spiral. It coursed through your veins like a fever, and the adrenaline pumped through you in earnest, causing you to feel alive.

The back and forth of you weaving in and out of open vessels caused you to end up in second place, and the only racer ahead of you was none other than Ghost. Now, other riders, you were confident in defeating, but Ghost was a lovely challenge.

He had a couple of yards on you, and the way he controlled his bike was a near work of art. He was positively beautiful at it, and now you were starting to understand his biker name.

Ghost, because he could disappear in the shadows of the night, never to be seen again. Nobody could catch up to him, because he was a spirit in the night riding on a cloud of shadows and devilry.

Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew, because your hands revved up one more time, your upper body leaning impossibly forward on the curve of your bike, and you were determined. If nobody could catch up to him, then you wanted to be the first.

Swerving through impossibly small streets and side alleys, he was becoming more clear in your view. If you could get just a little closer, you’d be neck and neck. With the promise of a finish line approaching, you’d have to do it soon.

Bit by bit, your bike gained proximity. You were nearly right by his side, and the sheer power of it all had your heart thumping like bombs in your chest. He was there, right there, and your win was hanging by a thin string.

Ghost’s head whipped over to look at you when he heard the sounds of your engine, and whatever expression he wore under the helmet, you wished you could see it.

As if fueled by anger, he gripped his handles a bit tighter. The two of you waltzed in a dance of back and forth, fighting for the title of victor. The street was a straight shot now, and you could see the faint holographic sign that hung above the finish line, indicating the near end of the race. It glowed at you, taunted you, beckoned you towards it like a siren of the sea. It sang pretty songs to you, desperate to grab hold of you and claim it as theirs.

The two of you were tightly bound together the closer you got, so close you could practically feel the heat of carbon as it left his exhaust. It scorched you like a blazing fire, but it only proved to encourage you more.

You fought and fought for dominance. The crowds of people waiting at the finish line were as crazed as madmen, shouting and waving their arms, desperate to see who would win.

Just as the finish line became approachable, Ghost surged a few mere inches in front of you, as if waiting for the opportunity. It was a warzone when the race ended, and you slowed your bike to a stop. Taking off your helmet, you gasped for air that was stolen from you from the pure, intoxicating adrenaline, glancing up at the lit up scoreboard that glitched with a chromatic listing of all places that racers fell into.

You were second, Ghost was first.

You wanted to win, yes. But second place was as good as they came for the first race, and you were elated.

The sounds of people celebrating nearly tuned out the angry sound of boots stomping your way. You hadn’t even had a chance to get off your bike before a hand was grabbing hold of your shoulder, whipping you around to come face to face with Ghost. His balaclava remained, even under the confines of his helmet that was no longer there, and his eyes were bristling with those same flames from before that had shifted into a dangerous blaze.

“The fuck was that?” he spat, words stabbing into you like daggers.

“A competition,” you replied calmly, perhaps a bit too cockily. “Was it not?”

Ghost leered at you, shoulders dropping and rising with the heavy breaths he took. His hand was curled into a fist in the collar of your gear, keeping you in place. It tightened its hold, and he leaned closer to your face, glaring into you.

“You need to fuckin’ watch yourself, Maze.” He spoke your name like a sin, as if announcing the Devil himself. “Pull that shit again and you won’t live to see another race.”

He promptly let go of your collar, shoving you away in the process. You could do nothing but watch as he stormed off, out of sight and out of mind. Like a Ghost.

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therealmylesmorales · 6 months ago

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Shut up, and Drive

Another request for the main homie @ficsonpost-its 🫶🏾 featuring Street Racer!Claire and her loser!gf meeting for the first time

WC: 600+

Your friend was big into cars. Always have, even when you guys were kids. So when they pretty much begged you to come with them for a motorcycle meet up, you half heartedly agreed.

It’s not like anything better was going on that weekend.

You drifted away from your friend after trailed behind them for almost an hour; they were busy talking to one of the car owners, pretty much fangirling over the vintage Chevy. Somehow, you made it to the other side of the lot where the motorcycles were. These seemed a lot cooler.

You lingered by a few of them, most of them looking the same until you came across a modern bike that stopped you in your tracks. The metal was a cherry red with dark accents across it. A different sight from the usual all black bikes. Along with the coloring, the logo on the bike that said HARLEY-DAVIDSON, it was almost hard to move onto the next.

It was easy to say that this was the best looking bike that you seen yet.

”She’s a beauty, right?” A voice said from beside you.

When you turned to make a dry retort, your voice suddenly got caught in your throat. Fuck, she was pretty. Too pretty, even. Her brown waves were pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few strands framing her round face. And her eyes seemed too blue to be real; yet you couldn’t seem to look away from them.

“Is it—she yours?” You asked, watching as she ran her hand over the handles. You then noticed the white helmet that was dangling from her other hand and the upper half of her body was covered by a leather jacket in the same color of the bike she was now leaning on.

She hummed. “Fixed her up myself. Definitely my favorite.”

”How many do you have?”

“Just two,” she said. “This one for showing, then the other for driving.” The girl gave you a bright smile and raised your hand to you. “I’m Claire.”

You were hoping your hand wasn’t sweating when you shook hers. “Y/N.”

“You go to RCU?” She asked, pulling at the sleeve of your black sweatshirt with yellow writing. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around then.”

”I really just go to classes then back home,” you answered pitifully. “My friend actually had to force me out tonight.”

Fuck, that sounded sad.

But Claire didn’t seem to mind, seeing how she let out a laugh at your answer. “I’m glad they did. Seeing how I got to meet you. You made this boring night a little better.”

You averted your eyes at her response, rubbing the back of your neck. Claire had no problem leading the conversation, seeing how you were at a loss for words. “Hey, how long are you staying?”

However long you want, you thought. However, you settled for, “I’m…not sure.”

Claire’s voice lowered, leaning closer to you as she spoke. “A couple of us are staying after to place bets on a few races. I’d like to see your face in the crowd, cheering me on, maybe?”

“You-you want me there?”

“Mhm,” she smiled. “You could be my good luck charm.”

You tried to hold your smile back at her answer; you failed but Claire found it cute. The moment between you two was interrupted by a man with blond hair who called out for Claire.

When he saw you in close proximity to her, he sent you a friendly nod. “Claire, you ready?”

”Yeah, I’ll be with you in a sec, Leon,” Claire answered. When it was just the both of you, Claire reached over to grab your hand. “Lookin’ forward to seeing you, then.”

And much to your surprise, Claire sent you a wink before you parted ways, the touch of her hand lingering.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, feeling a small wave of confidence in yourself. If a girl as pretty as that seemed THAT interested in you, maybe you weren’t that big of a loser others thought.

#claire redfield x reader #resident evil x reader #myles writing #c: claire redfield #I personally don’t mess with blue eyes like that #y’all kind of scare me

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lv-tangle-universe-blog · 7 months ago

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Lp... You're licking your arm... I don't care if you taste like some blueberry sour patch kid...stop

( After her daily chat with King Candy, she drives off to diet coca cola mountain, it's been a few years after she spawned in, and she's getting accustomed to the place and her new looks, as weirdly convenient as they are, she finds her most favorite part of the day is visiting Vanellope, that little girl is so brilliant. Glitch and all, she tried to make a cart that was peddled power. It was very unfortunate that taffeta had to find out, come by, it ruined the fun, she giggled she came up on to the mountain in her low rider, she was planning to make up yesterday with sledding, pulling out some waivers from on top of lowrider, to show her, last place walked to the false wall, putting her ear to it, making sure at her new friend is not crying, she can hear the echoes of silent sobs, which made the death glitch smile, knowing this is the perfect opportunity walking in,

Vanellope was sitting on her sponge cake bed, crying into a candy wrapper. Those bullies stopped her from getting her dreams again, but she wasn't gonna give up. Last place knew that "woah, hay?... What happened?" she strained concern as she walked over to Vanellope slowly putting an arm around her shoulder..."taffda came by the junkyard and... *sniff* and..." The poor little girl looks like she's gonna devolve. Into tears again, last place slowly put her arms around the little girl in parental instinct, "ssshhh, shhh, sh, she's just a big bully, you know that"..."Why can you race, and I can't...it's not fair"..."Vanellope...*sigh*... We went over this, I have to or"..."or king candy will arrest you. I know, I know, just why can't you give me the coin, So I can race in your stead"... last place sighs again, "That's not how it works, sugar spot," she stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out a coin that floats in her hand as she open palms tries to hand her it, "go on, try to take it if you can get it out of my hand I'll even let you race with lowrider" the little glitch knew how much lowrider meant to its older sister, if you get to touch the steering wheel, let alone start up The engine is a privilege. So Vanellope grabbed the coin and tried to pull it out of the open palm of the dark glitch in front of her, realizing that despite it floating off of her hand, it was very stuck in place, she kept pulling and pulling desperate to get the coin kind of her hand before turning red face and giving up,"is this some kind of joke, some form of prank,"..." Sorry, sugar spot, I wish it was." Last place waved her hand with the coin in it. trying to chuck it or throw it anywhere, but it doesn't come off, "this thing only seems to come off when I want to race, or i'm putting it in my pocket" "wow, that's just mean lp, you know it wouldn't come off, and yet you tease me with the promise of driving lowrider" she pouted "yeah, I know, but I wouldn't give you such determination, if I didn't"... The death glitch laughed at its younger sibling,"Don't be too hard on yourself, besides, I brought some wafers so we can take them up. Ice cream summit to go sledding"... Vanellope still looked very upset about the teasing and something else..."Look, kid, i'm restricted by limitations to, i know it doesn't seem like many limitations, but I could never cross the finish line in first to be a good racer, i'm not even allowed to be on the roster, but i just doubled my focus on something else,"..."Like being the best glitch disappearing act"..."Exactly - wait, what did you call me?"..."disappearing, act like you make things and yourself disappear at times"... Last place gives a weird look before continuing "maybe we can find something else in your code that tells you what you're good at, and so we don't have to, well, put everyone in danger"... She pauses, waiting for a response... but doesn't get one, "kid, what am I gonna do with you?"... Last places with a chuckle "maybe go sledding on those ice cream summits," the little glitch responds, "exactly, now, come on I left lowrider, running, and I don't wanna anybody taking her while i'm talking to you"... She walks out with the little glitch. Following right behind her, she smiles, hoping this will take her mind off of racing for the day and keep her out of the roster race)

#oc #wreck it ralph #wir #turbo #glitch #wip #sugar rush #I figured sometime with Vanellope would help flesh this out more #It didn't #That's kind of wonky #Don't be afraid to leave me some tips #Cause I don't know what i'm doing #Last place

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mediumtires · 2 years ago

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bestie pls i need more christian/toto content, a drabble, a ramble, long tags, just SOMETHING!! you have me hooked and now i'm addicted i've read 7 years so many times it's embarrassing

ok hear me out you guys keep asking and i don’t have anything proper that i could offer you just yet BUT i saw an ask a while ago where someone said lewis isn’t going to renew his contract next year and saying “i won’t join another team” isn’t saying “i’ll be here next year i trust this team” etc etc etc and like, i hate myself for it but walk with me for a second here……………..

Lewis is the one to drop the bombshell of his retirement. Not his camp, not Merc, not PR. There is no tidy Instagram post in black and teal, no quote on quote, no text box announcing the retirement of one of the greatest. It’s Lewis who types it up, a hundred words max, and before he puts it on his story he calls Toto and lets him know.

Toto is in his office in Brackley, behind his big desk, glass walls, open door policy, looking out at a bunch of his employees steadily working away and none of them realise, none of them understand what is happening in the very moment he picks up the phone, what it does to him to hear the words, “I’m sorry man” and “I don’t wanna be the next Alonso” and “I can’t do another season of this” and “I need to let it go”. Toto’s world shifts, bends, and slowly glides off its axis. A funny joke, he thinks at first, before the realisation hits.

Toto has experienced many a crisis in his life. Some of them more serious, more real than others, but each one of them prepared him for the next, for what’s to come. His body catches up quicker than his brain. It’s the physical signs first, of going into fight or flight. Blood pumping, trouble breathing, sweaty hands, mouth dry. Racing heart. Funny expression. A racing heart. He’s always thought of himself as having a racer’s heart, especially in moments like this. He can calm himself, he can self regulate. He can manipulate himself, breathe through it, pretend he’s behind the wheel, pretend this is a life or death split second kind of decision calling for nothing but calm and steady hands.

He does; breathe through it. If there is one thing he is, steadfast and unswerving, it’s a leader. Responsibility sits tight in his neck as he seeks out his team, first the closest five, then senior personnel. He is not going to make this into a huge thing - it is - but he will have to make his people aware before Lewis lets the rest of the world in on his secret. Word is going to spread fast.

It does; spread fast. Toto was given an hour. He uses it wisely, types out a company wide announcement, and then another email, a more personal one, to the PR department. Tells them to leave things until tomorrow. There is no point in rushing this.

Toto leaves his office at 5 on the dot. Turns off his computer, does not take any documents, does not take any work to look at later, just shoves his travel mug into his bag, grabs his jacket and makes sure to turn the lights off on his way out.

When he gets home, Christian’s Range Rover is parked where it’s always parked, in the left space next to the stone steps leading up to the front door. It stands a little wonky today, the left front tyre kissing the grass. It’s an unusual sight. Christian is very particular about his car, and his lawn.

The dogs yap at his feet when Toto walks through the door, drops his shit on the sideboard with no mind to clean up after himself. He drags his feet through the foyer and into the kitchen. It’s still light out, it’s July, and Christian has opened the patio doors to let the warm summer breeze in.

His face has something critical to it when he locks eyes with Toto, crow’s feet deeper than usual as he watches him approach. Toto can feel the weight of his gaze on him, how he drags it up his body, down, up again, only to settle on his face for good.

“Colleague or husband?” Christian asks.

“Husband,” Toto says and folds himself into Christian’s opening arms, tucks his face into the crook of his neck and inhales deeply, allowing himself to just close his eyes and breathe. No need for pretences here. Car in the gravel, engine off, steering wheel dislodged and hands in his lap. It’s okay if his fingers shake. Christian knows he’s not a racer by heart.

#nah listen this is so pretentious lmao #i’m sorry this is the best i could do for all you lovely people who keep asking for more seven years #also this is a hypothetical #obviously lewis is NOT going to retire do i even have to say it #he’s gonna stay for that 8th (9th) we all know it #also the baby(girl)ification of toto wolff????#this is literally so unsexy i’m so sorry #toto wolff #christian horner #seven years

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messengerofmechs · 2 years ago

Note

5, 12 and 19 for Castor please!

5. Do you have any role models? Tell us a little bit about them.

"It should be no surprise that Cityspeaker Radix has been a huge role model to me." Castor gives a slight, fond smile, "She was very straightforward, but never unkind. Always saw even the small issues were addressed, never letting anyone or anything fall to the wayside. She very much was another mentor to me as I learned how to be a cityspeaker."

"And of course Pollux itself. Its boundless enthusiasm and passion has always inspired me, long before the role of cityspeaker even crossed my mind." Castor's face lights up. Literally, as the markings on her face glow, signifying a response from the titan only the cityspeaker is privy too. Castor sighs, "and of course its beauty is remarkable as well."

12. How would you describe your style?

"Well I must admit I have quite the attachment to the synthwave street-racer look. I know it's hardly the most unique style but to me, nothing quite beats driving down the neon-lined outer roads of Pollux under full view of the cosmos and with the skyline of the main hub in the distance." Castor rattles off her response, guesturing out the window in the general direction of the roads she's referring to. "When I was younger, I spent a couple days planet-side on.... oh what was it. Phobos Prime? I saw my first sunset there. The colors that the sky had... Well, I haven't changed my paint since."

19. Describe an average day in your life.

"My day starts pretty early, I try to get out for a drive first thing in the morning and grab a bite to eat at my favorite bakery. Then, it depends on the day, but there's usually a lot of meetings. I meet with the city council very regularly, any planetary representatives if we're in orbit, and there's usually a couple ongoing projects that need Pollux's and my input. I meet with artists and curators, help with public events, and even do interviews sometimes." Castor smiles a bit cheekily. "And I always make time to check in with Pollux to see how it's doing."

"Some days I'm traveling all over city and some I'm in my office. Being a cityspeaker really is facilitating communication between our community and our city, and that conversation ebbs and flows just like any other." Castor speaks warmly, clearly proud of her work.

"I'll generally eat out either at the places near city hall or wherever I happen to be at the time. Pollux always has suggestions on new restaurants it thinks I should try. I think it's a bit jealous that it can't try the food too." Castor's markings glow again. She chuckles and adds, "Now I know for sure."

Castor settles, and continues around the disruption, "At the end of the day I try to take some time to relax, though I don't always get that chance. The nights here are just as busy as I'm sure you know. Especially if there's a show planned." Castor sighs and sinks into her seat, "and, well, that's just about it. I head home, recharge, and do it all over again. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

#OC: Castor #Woman Module #This is very much pre-supercell if you couldn't tell lmao #Ask game

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snow-rider-racing-gamer · 7 months ago

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Why Snow Rider is the Ultimate Winter Racing Game

If you are searching for an engaging and exciting winter racing game, look no further than Snow Rider. This online gaming experience offers players a unique blend of fun, skill, and competition, making it a standout choice for gamers and winter sports lovers alike.

The first thing that grabs your attention in Snow Rider is its stunning graphics. The snowy landscapes are beautifully designed, creating a visually captivating environment. The attention to detail in the sledding mechanics enhances the overall experience, making you feel like you are racing through a winter paradise.

Gameplay is where Snow Rider truly shines. The controls are smooth and responsive, allowing for precise maneuvering as you navigate through challenging courses. As you race against the clock, you’ll encounter various obstacles that require quick thinking and sharp reflexes. This dynamic gameplay keeps players on their toes and ensures that no two races are ever the same.

Moreover, the competitive nature of Snow Rider adds to its charm. Players can compete against friends or other online racers, fostering a sense of community and rivalry. Sharing your high scores and challenging others to beat your time is a fantastic way to enhance the gaming experience.

Another noteworthy aspect of Snow Rider is its accessibility. The game is unblocked, meaning you can easily access it from various devices, whether at home, school, or work. This convenience allows players to enjoy a quick race whenever they have a few moments to spare.

In addition, the game continually evolves, with regular updates and new challenges being introduced. This commitment to improvement ensures that players always have something new to look forward to, keeping the gameplay fresh and exciting.

Ultimately, Snow Rider offers an unparalleled winter racing experience that combines stunning visuals, engaging gameplay, and a competitive edge. So, don’t miss out on this thrilling adventure; jump on your sled and start racing today!

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the-firebird69 · 9 months ago

Video

youtube

NEW! Macalister Motors Superfin from Fast Furious Spy Racers by RGTV

https://youtu.be/EoBQ95ijV1s?si=RNeEI0U82JuYs8Ou

The car is unique to the movie in other words we think that we make it and they use it in the movie and it's not a known brand and it's very hot and it's designed very well and designed to be a fly car and a converted car a front wheel drive car of any kind will work and we need this and we do know what the study has shown about the regular sedan this is for a mid size which is not the compact it's the size our son had as a Kia Optima and the step up from his is a perfect fit to make this car and he wants to know if Mac wants to turn Lori's into one and it's symbolic and it will be reminding people. And he says no someone will try and do that but then he gets the idea we're doing it and it doesn't mean that so he's gonna look at it and he is frustrated and angry and you keep all the original stuff and if she's moved or comes out you put it back together and he says wow that's good then you can do it to my car now he's interested because this sounds like the stupid idea that might come out and Tommy F actually took the car and he might be sashy and he's Sasha Cohen we think. Who is also infested in the furious no is in the movie Talladega Knights. So we're gonna get going on this and I'm approving it and he wants to help and he wants to send me prototypes using the Kia because he's appreciative of his father and mother and they say we don't want to do it but we might have to. And this car would be awesome. There's no such thing as mcallister racing and there will be he says and people have in mind in memory and think I remember that from somewhere. The name actually came from the TV show with the Coyote X as Judge McAllister and he does point that out and then he's responsible for this kind of thing happening with the serious fast and furious that's a cartoon but it's not really it's cartoonized if you watch it it's very intense. This stuff is very hot and a lot of it is his and he's a giant I am too but not that class you have to understand he's doing it for a reason. Everybody thinks they can steal stuff and you don't end up with anything. I guess it's the thrill of the Chase. This car will be very fast and it'll be fun as hell to try and chase our friend around in it

mac dady

ok ok this is the car and i do grab it and from japan i think. and it would be trump. and it makes sense now. It's true as hell and it's I was involved in the Volkswagen but that was not the same type of vehicle it's fast but it's not fast it's made to be like a regular coach and the platform that this is on is like the platform that Dave had and it's a little bit beefier and the Kia is a little bit beef here believe it or not it's got a real frame and he was safer in that car than most cars. And it's really stupid because he's gonna look loaded and he has absolutely no money but people probably try and get him money because he looks loaded and that's not the answer the answer is that he is not loaded doesn't have anything and it's the Mac code and they want them to look at people like our friend here and we get it didn't work with the Kia then they put it on the Kia wait that makes sense. They had it ready too

tommy f

and this is fun He says if I establish a track record he's going to have to try and break it and he might try it himself and that would be intense. His father and mother won't let him they say so have BG do it but with his car I can't stand this this is what it's like that guy can really move in its BG it's because he doesn't weigh anything and he'll call him the lightweight all night until he starts arguing and it makes BG feel better believe it or not. This is gonna be fun and he says he wants to do it and he wants Tommy have to get going on it he says he's got the design and it's the one with the funny looking rear end he says no way that's the one people like it's like a fly car and a friend says make it a little shallower cause that's actually a little bit big. Agrees in some angles it looks massively awesome and he's going to go ahead and try and do it but really it's not his car so wondering who his car is and you can see the movie where it comes from and it's from Trump and Tommy F has to take it because he thinks they might have stone chips that are different or know where they are it's going to start up pretty soon it's not the same car as the one he made recently that's the venom this would be different and he's worked on this he says because of his mouth he says that we're his people and stuff and it's actually the first vehicle he gets after all of this crazy stuff and there'd be an agreement and stuff for him to drive it around and the reason why is a little bit obscure and is famous for certain things and all these famous wealthy people know him and John Remallard knows that and if he gets this car they're going to be sticking to him instead of just him getting plucked clean

Olympus

and sit pass it ll by and be a pompus ass. no but ok. and yeh he takes it serously. and it is sasha. we ddo this. breake sherrys record. I all of a sudden see what you're saying I break the record of hers sasha will break mine with your car and the Mac Proper will come out and he might break the record before you get it and Tommy F says that's kind of how it went he didn't use it much maybe once or twice and put it back and that's the story and it will make them come out and and we see what happens we think it works.

trump

andyeh the charis lol needs money for tht and i laugh ok the same chairs lol not heavy

...

Olympus

Wow you figured it out but it's out of love and he loves his wife and he wants to be with her and us too with his father and his mother and his best friends and we grew up with him every 2nd of the day. We know how he is he doesn't like these people they're weird and **** you'd like to show them down and to beat them at their own game in the race and to bring the Mac proper up and yeah they have Sasha do the race if someone gets the track record after the one our son to do it and that's how it's done this is great this is greatness OK this works for me. I'm starting to see what he's saying he's gonna be a big man for us and he's gonna do it on purpose and he wants to and is ready to and all these people are very lame but that's good and we have time and we're building.

Thor Freya

and he is fun but man what a tude like trump sings and trumpsings it out of ignorance mostly but man ok youi shouild seethe readout off the chart. for my people and up there

macs

we see it

mac daddy

Oympus

#youtube

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1gbag · 1 year ago

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Unleash the Fun: Top 5 Android Arcade Games to Play in 2024

Get ready to embark on an exciting adventure as we dive into the world of Android arcade games 2024. Whether you're a fan of action-packed shooters or thrilling racing experiences, these top five games are bound to provide endless entertainment on your Android device. From immersive gameplay mechanics to stunning graphics and captivating storylines, let's explore the must-play games that will surely keep you hooked for hours on end.

"Galaxy Defender" - Genre: Shoot 'em up Google Play Link: Galaxy Defender

Prepare yourself for an intergalactic battle like no other in "Galaxy Defender." As a fearless space pilot, your mission is to protect the galaxy from alien invasions. Engage in intense shoot 'em up gameplay as you navigate through challenging levels, dodging enemy fire and unleashing special abilities. With its stunning graphics and captivating sound effects, this game offers an immersive experience that will keep you on the edge of your seat.

"Turbo Racer" - Genre: Racing Google Play Link: Turbo Racer

Rev up your engines and get ready for adrenaline-pumping races in "Turbo Racer." Take control of high-speed cars and master the art of drift as you compete against AI opponents in a variety of challenging tracks. With its realistic physics and responsive controls, this game delivers a true racing experience. Customize your vehicles, unlock new tracks, and climb the leaderboards in this thrilling arcade racer.

"Pixel Ninja" - Genre: Platformer Google Play Link: Pixel Ninja

Embark on an epic journey as a nimble ninja in "Pixel Ninja." Traverse through beautifully crafted pixelated worlds, battling enemies and overcoming challenging obstacles. With precise controls and fluid animations, this platformer offers a nostalgic gaming experience. Unleash devastating ninja skills, discover hidden secrets, and save your village from the clutches of evil in this captivating adventure.

"Hyper Shooters" - Genre: Shoot 'em up Google Play Link: Hyper Shooters

Prepare yourself for a fast-paced, bullet-hell extravaganza in "Hyper Shooters." Take control of futuristic spacecraft and engage in intense battles against hordes of enemies. With a wide range of upgradable weapons and power-ups, this game offers a dynamic and highly addictive gameplay experience. Dodge enemy projectiles, maneuver through challenging levels, and show off your skills in online leaderboards.

"Super Breakout" - Genre: Classic Arcade Google Play Link: Super Breakout

Relive the nostalgia of classic arcade gaming with "Super Breakout." This timeless game puts a modern twist on the beloved brick-breaking genre. Use a paddle to bounce a ball and break through layers of bricks, collecting power-ups and bonuses along the way. With its intuitive controls and addictive gameplay, "Super Breakout" offers endless hours of fun for players of all ages.

Conclusion: 2024 is shaping up to be an exceptional year for Android arcade games, and the five recommendations above are just a taste of the excitement to come. From the intense shoot 'em up action of "Galaxy Defender" to the nostalgia-inducing gameplay of "Super Breakout," these games offer a diverse range of experiences for every player. So, grab your Android device and immerse yourself in the thrilling world of Android arcade games 2024. Get ready to unleash the fun!

Unveiling the Top 5 Android Adventure Games 2024: Embark on Thrilling Quests!

#android #android games #video games #gaming

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mcdonaldsnumberone · 2 years ago

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SUPER BUMPY!

michael kaiser: the new formula one champion that’s taking the world by storm. he’s unreasonably picky, and he’s always finding faults with a team that can’t seem to ever keep up with him. so he takes matters into his own hands in seeing if his new car for the season will live up to his expectations, all with a little help from you.

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): formula one au, slightly suggestive content

Kaiser was a finicky man. He had the bite to back his bark, and no matter how horrible his personality on and off the track was, no one could hold a candle to his abilities as a racer. That was the only reason why his company tolerated him and spoiled him to this extent, because everyone knew that he was an irreplaceable talent.

He grabbed your hand, half-dragging-half-leading you through the dimly lit hallways of the Bastard Munchen headquarters. His grip on you was tight and firm, like he didn’t want to let you go, and you practically stumbled through the winding staircases and sterile hallways as he led you to the garages.

“They approved the new cars.” He grinned, his smirk radiating with the sickening ambition that catapulted him into the world’s spotlight as the young, undefeated champion of the Formula One world. “I really hope they added all the things I asked for. I have no use for a car that can’t keep up with me. Less so a team that can’t fulfill what I ask of them.”

You had half a mind to scold him but decided against it. Noa constantly chided Kaiser about being nice to his management team rather than acting like a tyrant bossing the mechanics and engineers about how “the car isn’t responsive enough” or how he specifically asked for certain tires rather than the ones they got for him.

He was clearly excited to see these new cars, and at least this time around, he had enough faith to try them out. He had stormed out mid-testing last season when he found out that the experimental cars then didn’t go as fast as he wanted them to be, and the poor engineers had to scramble against time to up the car’s limits in time for the race.

Kaiser threw open the door to the garage, and you flinched when he flicked the lights on. You blinked past the discomfort, your stunned eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness as he herded you towards the center of the garage.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” He breathed. He finally let you go, skipping over to the vehicle presented to you.

Just like what Kaiser said, the car really was gorgeous. A sleek black and red, emblematic of his team’s colors, welcomed you. Gold decals glimmered under the spotlight-esque lighting of the room, and the curves of the car screamed of a luxurious speed befitting that of the racetrack’s emperor. Ads for his sponsors were emblazoned on the sides, the colorful banners and letters only reminding you of how much global attention Kaiser held in the palm of his hand. Even though it was stationary and parked inside the garage, you could easily imagine it speeding down the racetrack.

And with Kaiser inside… Right now, he was dressed down in his casual clothes, but you couldn’t help but think about how stunning he’d look with the car: the prideful emperor, in that tight bodysuit uniform—matching black, red, and gold as the car—with his trademark blue rose tattoo peeking over the neckline, blond-blue hair cascading down his shoulders like the stunning opulence of royalty, holding his personalized helmet as if it were a treasure bestowed onto him.

Kaiser looked like he couldn’t wait to take it out and push the car to its very limits. Your heart twisted at imagining your driver boyfriend in all of his racing bravado. Kaiser was adamant about taking you out to all of his races, but no matter how many times you saw him in his uniform, raring for the tracks, you always got all blushy and flustered at the thought of his well-toned silhouette itching to demolish his opponents.

“Wow…!” You clapped your hands. “I’m not too familiar with the specifics of the car, but it looks so pretty!”

“Finally that useless team of mine pulls off something good,” he laughed smugly. He turned back to you and motioned for you to come closer. “But a pretty car doesn’t mean shit if it doesn’t live up to my expectations.”

“You’ll get to take it out for test runs soon, right?” You tiptoed closer to him. His blue eyes sparkled with an almost sadistic glee as he traced the hood of the car with his fingertips. You looked up at him, offering a small smile as you took your place by his side. “They went all out with the design, so I’m sure they put in a lot of thought everywhere else. I know you complain a lot about how your team can’t keep up with you, but they really do the best they can for you.”

“A team that doesn’t live up to my standards means nothing to me,” Kaiser snorted and shook his head. “But that’s a conversation for later. I’ll tear them apart once I actually have a reason to. I’m here because I want to test this car in a different way.”

You tilted your head. You thought he had dragged you here to show off the car to you, to watch you gush over his newest steed and fawn over him with your praises. Well, even if that wasn’t entirely his intention, you were bound to do it eventually at some point, but now you were the slightest bit confused.

What did he bring you here for? It was far too early to actually take the car out on the track, and all that the two of you could do was admire it visually like this.

As if he could sense your surprise, Kaiser chuckled darkly and reached for you. You gasped when he pulled you into his chest, his arms easily ensnaring you and turning you to face him.

“What are you making such a face for?” He leaned in, and your breath caught in the back of your throat when his lips ghosted over your cheeks. “I always have a plan. An emperor always keeps his subjects within check.”

You knew he was having fun watching you shudder in his hold. “Wh-What did you bring me here for then? I thought you only wanted to show me your new car…”

He pushed on your shoulders, and you cried out when he shoved you down onto the hood of the car. You landed unceremoniously onto the polished material with a loud squeak, your limbs immediately splaying out against the car.

You whipped your head up at Kaiser, equal parts flabbergasted and irritated. “Hey, what are you-“

The car shifted with Kaiser’s weight when he got on top of you, his hands firmly planted down onto the hood of the car on either side of your head. One of his knees slid up your legs, leaving you stuck between his body and the car as you stared up at him. Your voice died out mid-sentence as your heart rate picked up dangerously, and Kaiser’s piercing azure eyes lowered into a seductive half-lidded gaze.

He grinned down at you, uncannily resembling a cat that had caught a helpless mouse in his paws. “Do you want to know what I brought you down here for? It’s to test the car’s endurance, darling.”

“Endurance…?” You didn’t dare raise your voice any louder than a whisper. Kaiser ducked down, and you froze as he exhaled against the curve of your neck, where your pulse thrummed rapidly inside of your throat.

“Mhm. You heard me.” His voice was taut, brimming with the same tense electricity that he reserved only for races. The same icy concentration that he only ever spoke with when he had honed in on something, the kind of cruel professionalism that had left countless second-rate champions broken in his wake. “Every race car gets a little scuffed up during races. They crash into the track’s borders, skid against the roads—hell, they even crash into other cars. I gotta make sure this beaut right here can handle everything I throw at it.”

You tried to squirm away to no avail, and the blond’s manic smirk only widened when he felt the car shifting under his palms. “What does that have to do with me?”

“It means-,” he dipped his head, and you spluttered over your words when his lips grazed over your jugular, “-I can be a little rough with you as an experiment to see if my new car can keep up.”

Oh my god.

You thought the wind was being knocked out of you when Kaiser snickered against your skin. He pressed a flurry of kisses to your neck, his tongue cheekily swirling suggestive circles against your sensitive body. You clenched your eyes shut and pushed at his toned chest, unsure if you wanted to pull him closer to you or to shove him away. Not that it really mattered when he had you right where he wanted, pinned underneath him while he kissed you over and over again.

“K-Kaiser, wait- we shouldn’t be doing this here-,” you gasped out, scrunching your face up. Hot shivers ravage your body, and the sounds of him kissing you repeatedly filled your ears. You hated how smooth your boyfriend could be at times, managing to turn you into a flustered goop underneath without any warning. He knew which buttons to press to get you to melt for him, and his kisses weren’t doing you any favors to think rationally.

He licked at your skin, and a cold shudder ripped down your spine. “What, are you scared? That someone might see? C’mon, darling, it’s not like I haven’t kissed you in front of other people.”

“There’s that, but-,” your hand landed on the hood of the car, pressing against it slightly, “-this is just wrong! We shouldn’t be making out at work, let alone on top of a car that’s still in testing!”

“I can do as I want. You know that they can’t do anything to me.” Kaiser’s teeth latched onto your soft skin, and you yelped out. A stinging pain rushed to your head, prickling all over your neck. You could tell that he had bitten deep, fully with the intention of leaving a mark, and tears welled up in your eyes as your poor nerves recoiled at the pain.

You also knew he bit you there on purpose. On the left side of your neck, right above your shoulder. The very same place that the tattoo on his neck was, the royal blue rose that struck fear and respect into the heart of every racer worth their salt in the Formula One world. Kaiser’s tongue licked over the bite marks fondly, and you could feel the vibrations of his haughty laugh spreading across your skin.

“Perfect,” he purred proudly. You knew your boyfriend better than anybody else in the world, and if there was something he wanted, he sure as hell was going to get it. You laid there, all meek and trembling, your heart hammering in your chest in anticipation of what he was going to do next to you. Would it be crazy of you to say that this excited you in some sick and twisted way? Knowing that he could toy with you this easily and you’d eat it all up happily?

Your breathing threatened to give out on you when his tongue was replaced with his hand, his fingertips brushing over the prominent bite marks on your chest. He admired his handiwork, with the same kind of glee you knew he looked down at fallen opponents with.

“That’ll turn blue once it heals,” Kaiser remarked. “Probably around the time I get to take the car out for its first actual drive. That way we’ll be matching, and everyone can see what I’ve done to you.”

Your stomach twisted with sick anticipation. Millions of eyes on you, the whole world watching to see what fledgling champion would think of this year’s new car. Everyone would be admiring him with bated breath to see how this season would kick off, and his mark on your neck would be there for everyone to know that he’s laid claim to you.

He leaned over again, looming over you as you pressed your back fully against the sleek hood of his racing car.

“But this is just the beginning of the season, darling,” he whispered. “And I’m not sure if I’m quite done testing this car’s ‘endurance’ just yet. I promise I’ll make it worth your while, so bear with me.”

The hand around your neck tightened just a hair. “You wouldn’t mind if I got a little rougher, would you?”

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #michael kaiser #x reader #my writing #hi guys im back w my illness

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gothicwidowsworld · 3 years ago

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Overreact E.O

“Erm this question is also for Y/N. Do you see retirement in your near future because you want to settle down?” The man asked, his voice occasionally cutting out due to the zoom quality. “Well I mean I’m still in my rookie season and I’m only 21…” the Red Bull clad young woman replied awkwardly, her eyebrow raised in silent judgment. “Well you got to think about the future don’t you. I mean it’s not exactly suitable for a Mother to be racing?” The journalist added with a shrug. “I’ll be honest all I’m hearing is that because I don’t have a dick between my legs you think I can’t drive?” Y/N asked in faux innocence her y/e/c orbs wide and doe like. It was a gesture that went unnoticed by the camera crew, interviewer and host but Esteban could sense the challenge in her reaction.

The Frenchman had become good friends with the girl over the years, the pair crossing paths over the seasons and circuits, she had been refreshing and different, if at times a little scary. Esteban had been so proud when Y/N had made it into the big leagues, she deserved it. “I mean Kimi’s got kids? Sebastian… Schumacher had kids whilst maintaining a racing career? It’s really not unheard of?” the y/h young woman listed off the top of her head.

“You think it’s easy? Then why aren’t you sat in a Red Bull? Or any car on the grid actually!” the young woman asked, readjusting her team beanie proudly. She was sure her response would be heavily critiqued by the public and other news outlets, but the building frustration regarding some people's attitude at her position in the sport was getting tiring. Why couldn’t she just be in Formula One because she was a good Driver? Was that not a good enough reason? Why was the fact that she was a woman still so surprising? Rolling her y/e/c orbs at the journalist's painful scrambling, the y/h young woman simply laughed a little. “No seriously I invite you to come sit in my car and try to turn it on before you sit here and ask me demeaning questions just because I’m a female and in F1”

“Do you have children? I hope if you have a daughter she sees how arrogant people like you can be. People like you are the reason girls feel inferior, disrespected and unwelcome in this sport… And that’s all I have to say to you.” The y/h/c Driver said glad that her facemask hid the deliciously sarcastic smirk currently finding its home on her y/s/c face. “Actually does anyone have any questions for Esteban because the poor man’s just sitting here.” Y/N asked softly, turning to face the dark haired Alpine Racer. “Euh no. No, I think that was a good place to end it actually.” The Frenchman replied hesitantly. Esteban wasn’t a confrontational person and he wasn’t really sure how he’d even begin to follow up Y/N’s little performance. “Really you have nothing to say? I feel bad now” Y/N spoke, adjusting herself on the chair quickly to get a more comfortable perch.

“Well with that looks like we’ll be moving on to group 6.” Peter announced clearly hoping to rescue the press conference before any more upset. “I worry for you” The Frenchman stated quietly, almost hesitantly as he turned to face the younger girl, scared he’d anger the girl even more. “I didn’t mean to overreact… I’m just tired of all those questions.” Y/N mumbled, pushing the microphone away slightly just in case they were still recording. “No you didn’t overreact.” Esteban started, firmly shaking his head. “I just feel sorry for your boyfriend.” the French native mumbled quietly grabbing his phone from his pocket to check the time. “But you’re my boyfriend?” Y/N replied, her eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. “oui je sais chérie.” The man acknowledged his eyes sparkling in humour at the girl's reaction.

#gothicwidow #imagine #au imagines #imagines #x reader #esteban ocon imagines #esteban ocon x reader #esteban ocon imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula one imagines #formula one x reader

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luckyasfuck · 4 years ago

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back seat of his car [k. bakugou]

pairing // katsuki x fem!reader

warnings/themes // NSFW, mafia leader!katsuki, illegal racer!katsuki, mentions of stalker!reader, gun violence, katsuki point his gun at your neck, katsuki checks under your skirt without conset, slight knife play, breeding kink, creampie,

synopsis // finally gathering your courage to confess to the guy you’ve been admiring, the night takes a dark turn when he assumes you’re working for his enemy, and all the secrets unfold.

word count // 2.5k

a/n // i am aware that race cars don’t have passenger seats nor back seats, just shut up and read already.

tonight was exciting. the skirt you wore hung beautifully around your hips, giving your thighs the attention they very much deserve. the nights were always cold, but you’d do anything to get bakugou katsuki to glance at your way. tonight was the night you’d finally make a move after practically stalking the male car racer for weeks now. it was obvious he knew about your ministrations, he’d look back here and there and become more cautious as the nights dragged out.

a black face mask covers your face, the competition was illegal and it would be a bitch to be caught by those bastards that call themselves cops. boots clicking on the pavement, you speed-walked to the street. the muffled screams and sounds of cars grew louder as you turn the corner, already seeing people cheering the racers on. pushing through the crowd, you manage to slip through the dudes that called themselves ‘guards’ and onto the road. a quick span around the area and you see him.

katsuki is wearing a black leather jacket, his infamous skull shirt underneath and black pants to match the aesthetic of his black racer car. his blonde hair is messy as he takes off his helmet, leaning on the car. you gulp, could you really do this? the satisfying click of your boots makes the respected racer glance at you, eyeing you up and down. with a quick and confident, you eye his car. “that’s a really fucking pretty car.”

he scoffs, “you competing here, woman? don’t even try.” he clicks his tongue. “why? cause i’m a woman?” a death glare is sent his way before you chuckle, leaning on his car too. “no, cause it’s really risky. police are gonna raid this area any second now, that’s why i parked here near this alleyway just incase.”

huh? “and how would you know that?” the crowd screams louder and your voice is barely heard, new racers coming in from all areas. the sound of their car engines fill the silent night and you watch katsuki pull his phone out, texting someone. this fumes you, does he have a girlfriend or something? i’ll fucking kill her-

“so,” the phone is shoved back inside his pocket, now his attention is all on you. half-lidded vermillion eyes stare into yours as he smirked, putting his hand inside his pocket. “where’s your car?” his eyes span the area, looking for a car that you might own and use. “oh, i’m not racing.” this response shocks him, looking at you with knotted eyebrows and his head tilted slightly to the side.

“how’d you get past those guys?” the ‘guards’ push the crowd away harshly, preventing them from entering the road. they push, throw, do anything to keep the crowd at bay. they’re pretty big guys so they don’t get beat up that easily. “i’m a woman.” you reply with a giggle.

“and i may have told them i know you.”

the blonde’s phone dings with a notification, “do you really know me now?” he reads through the text with a smirk. muffled police sirens are heard and the crowd silences for a minute before everybody’s frantically exiting the street, the car racers getting in their car and driving off full speed.

fuck, where you gonna go no-

the sound of a car door opening breaks you from your trance as you see flashes of red and blue lights rounding the corner. “get in.” katsuki rushes to his side of the car and without a thought, you enter his car. with a quick and professional manuever, the both of you are rushing through the empty and dark alleyway in seconds. the darkness seems endless until the blonde turns the corner and stops. looking back, he squints his glowing red eyes to check for any police cars.

a relieved sigh leaves his lips and he gets out the vehicle, leaving you confused. a hand opens your side of the car and you’re yanked outside harshly, “what the fuck?!” a loud thud fills the silent alleyway as your back hits the hard concrete. a sound of metal is heard and the next thing you knew, katsuki has you pinned on the wall with a gun held straight to your throat. “don’t fucking think i haven’t seen you lurking around.”

how were you supposed to know that your harmless stalking sessions meant so much to him? you gulped, forcing yourself back on the wall trying to detatch your sweating neck from his cold gun. “you working for deku or something, hm?” the weapon is shoved into your skin more and your eyes close in fear. “i... i don’t know who that is.”

katsuki tears the weapon away from you and the sound of a loud bang makes you whimper, eyes tearing up. “oh really, now?” opening your eyes, a tear trickles down your cheek as you looked up at his hand pointing the gun he just shot to the sky. noticing this, katsuki puts it back in it’s place against your neck. “i- i really don’t! i just stalked you... cause- cause i liked you and you’re- you’re hot.” you admitted, fearing for your life.

ignoring the confession, katsuki kneels down and using his unoccupied hand, he uses the flashlight on his phone. his hand hoists your skirt up without warning, attaching the hem to your waistband as he shined the flashlight on your thigh. expecting to see the symbol for deku’s little clan on your thigh, his hand is already on the trigger, ready to pull it and end your life.

but he saw nothing, just your bare, quivering thighs. and maybe your lace panties too, but he looked away before he could stare at it for too look. with a harsh movement, he fixes your skirt and pulls the weapon away from your neck before grabbing your collar and staring right into your eyes.

“listen here, you fucker. you like me don’t you?” a relieved sigh leaves your lips and you nod, staring back into his lust-filled eyes. “i’ve been fucking stressed lately, and you fucking added to that. so let me fuck you into oblivion as a punishment.” the straight forward statement made your pussy wet.

it was the fact that he still asked that made you agree, even after you life was fucking threatened 30 seconds ago. katsuki bakugou may be bad, but he’ll never stoop to that level. plus, it could be a form of sorry for pointing a gun to your neck and almost pulling the trigger. in the back of his head, he made sure he would make you feel like a fucking princess.

it was an ‘in the moment’ kind of thing, the car was heated and condensation pooled at the windows as you and katsuki made out with each other, his thigh making its way in between your legs to rub your clit on the rough material of his jeans. the shirt you wore was cut open by the knife he kept in his pocket and in an instant, he attacks your collarbones and a hand creeps up to cup your boob under your matching lace bra, your nipple being twisted around by his fingers. “you fucking slut. you absolute whore. getting off to someone who almost ended your life? yeah, you want this cock in your slutty fucking pussy, don’t you?”

without you noticing, he had ripped off his leather jacket and shirt. you drooled over his toned torso, admiring his abs and the slight hint of a blonde happy trail leading straight down into his pants. unconsciously, your hand goes to graze your fingers down his bare upper-half, trailing down the blonde hair leading you to where you wanted to touch before you cupped the large tent in his pants “yes, i want it.” you whimpered out, squeezing his bulge slightly, making him grunt.

katsuki massages your inner thigh as his unoccupied hand goes to unzip his fly and rid himself of any remaining clothes. as soon as his underwear is out of the way, his cock slaps right against his lower stomach and you stare in awe, gulping. the size and girth intimidated you, but this is exactly what you wanted. he strokes himself a few times before teasing your sensitive clit with his tip, moaning at the feeling of your lace panties against his slit. your panties are soon yanked off, katsuki leaving them dangling off your ankle as he propped himself between you, hands pinning your wrists above your head and your legs hoisted up on his shoulders.

he angles his cock to tease at your entrance, smirking at you. “come on, beg for it.” the tip goes in and out of you and you whimper out in a frantic state, “please! just- just put it in already, i want it, i want it, i want it- fuck!” your toes curl in both pleasure and pain when katsuki slams inside your without warning. the stretch burned, he was probably the biggest thing you’ve put inside you in a while. his hips still and he looks down, admiring the way your cunt swallowed him up, feeling you clench around him. “good girl.” an unoccupied hand grips your hips as he started to thrust into you slowly before gradually picking up the pace until he was pounding into you.

the car shook back and forth as the racer railed you in the backseat, skin slapping and moans prominent even outside the car. “fuck! t-too deep, bakugou, too-” a pair of lips slam into yours, cutting your sentence off. katsuki ignores your complaints and lets out a dark chuckle. “am i hitting your womb, slut? that’s what you wanted, right? you want me to fuck my babies into you so you’ll be swollen for nine months.”

“ye-”

“no. we can’t have my little fuck toy be too sensitive for sex, right? you’re my fuck toy, my cumslut. mafia boys like me are always stressed and need obedient girls like you with tight fucking cunts to keep sane.” there’s no time to think about the term he used for himself as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mind going blank as you neared your orgasm. cumming all over his cock with a loud moan, your legs quiver as katsuki goes faster and sloppier, chasing his own orgasm. his hips stutter when he cums, painting your insides his shade of white. a few more thrusts and he pulls out of you, panting. he stares straight at your glistening pussy, watching his semen slowly seep out of you.

the sight makes whimper, feeling himself getting hard all over again. “i hope you can take more, princess.” the grip on both your wrists becomes tighter and you let out a loud moan, tears spilling from your eyes down your cheeks as katsuki bottoms out inside you for the second time that night. “’cause i’m not stopping for anything.” he doesn’t wait for anything and starts pounding into you again, abusing that sweet little hole of yours. “bakugou! fuck! too much!” your legs quiver, but his speed doesn’t falter. instead, he goes faster.

lips attach to suck on the supple skin of your neck, “call me katsuki.” he whispers, biting your neck softly. “k-katsuki, gonna cum again.” you cried out, fingernails digging into the hand that kept your hands at place. “then cum, cum all over this cock again. no one, and i repeat, no one is ever gonna make you feel this good. got it?” the question is left unanswered when a loud moan erupts from your throat as you came. katsuki follows a few thrusts after, moaning uncontrollably.

the both of you pant, a heavy layer of sweat covering both your bodies. katsuki pulls out of you, instantly replacing his cock with two of his fingers, making you jump as he scissors them inside you. “katsuki, n-no more... please...” you begged, whining.

“shh...” he calms you down, pulling his fingers out and prodding them at your lips. “suck.” the command instantly has your lips encaging around his fingers covered in both of your love juices. a moan escapes your lips at the taste, pulling away once you’ve lapped all of it up. the car becomes silent, katsuki taking a roll of tissue from the corner of his car, starting to clean you up. large arms gently keep you from jumping up from the overstim. “just a little more, it would be uncomfortable if you had cum dripping all over your thighs.” a choked ‘okay’ leaves your lips as he cleaned up the remnants of his orgasm.

“there,” the window opens and katsuki throws the used tissues outside. “are you hurt anywhere?” he helps you sit yourself up on his lap gently, his red eyes looking all over your body for any bruises he might have left. “i’m fine, thanks.” you panted out, smiling at him. the blonde looks away, gently setting you down and handing you his shirt. “sorry for tearing yours.” he picks up his clothes and the weapons on the ground, starting to dress himself. you did the same, heart jumping in joy at his scent on the shirt.

the both of you climb to the drivers and passenger seat, katsuki still half-naked. the black jacket is thrown to your exposed thighs and you look at him in confusion. “you’ll get cold-” a hand keeps the jacket on your thighs as the car starts. “i can handle it.” he started to drive through the rest of the alleyway. “whatever you say.” you stay put in your seat.

“i’m... part of a mafia group.” katsuki starts. “deku, the guy i assumed you work for, he wants my head. i don’t know why, but i am sure not losing to a broccoli looking headass. and since you couldn’t mind your fucking business, you’re involved now.”

“how so?”

“i need to keep you at arms length. not to protect you or anything! it’s so you can’t go around telling everybody, and i still don’t know if you really work for that bastard or not.” the car rounds into an abandoned street. god, you were gonna get killed, weren’t you? you thought as he stopped at a worn out house, stepping out the car. “come on.”

his footsteps are loud, and you do follow him. he left his weapon inside the car, as if to make you trust him. “we were pretty sure that you worked for deku, but i think you’re too dumb for that. don’t be surprised.” the blonde warns as you both near the door. nothing was heard inside. katsuki opens the door and in an instant, metal clads with metal and 6 guns are pointed straight at you. but with a raise of katsuki’s hand, all the guns are put down. you shook uncontrollably in your spot, maybe the fact that you could barely walk from what you guys did earlier. “she doesn’t work for dek-”

“she’s pretty.” another blonde smiles at you, waving and winking. as you’re about to wave back awkwardly, katsuki pulls you beside him by your waist. “don’t even fucking try, denki.”

“she’s mine.”

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bakubub · 4 years ago

Text

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

#racer!kuroo #haikyuu x reader #haikyufics #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsurou #haikyu angst #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu au #kuroo angst #kuroo comfort #kuroo fluff #kuroo au

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gildedmuse · 3 years ago

Text

@acqfeelings wrote:

Amateur bike racer Zoro/Law as the event volunteer trying to stop Zoro getting lost?

"Oi! Doc!"

Law sighs (it doesn't manage to sound as annoyed as he wanted it to, which itself is annoying) as a familiar green bicycle and it's impossibly cute obtuse rider breaks up next to the sidewalk.

Law glances over at contestant number 002, trying to keep only the most neutral expression, waiting instead for the inevitable question. (He also tries not to notice how in the now low light of dusk, the sheen of sweat makes Zoro's already golden skin all but shine. One droplet seems to be tracing its way down the boy's sharp and yet still baby faced features, twisting and sliding as if desperately trying to reach his lips.)

Though that sense of almost calm acceptance doesn't last long. Not when Law catches just how annoyed Zoro looks. As if he has any right to be annoyed when he's the one who has been bothering Law all day, following him around like a lost puppy! (The comparison helps, not because it gets Law more upset with Zoro, but it does leave him pissed at his own head; how are thoughts like that supposed to help him stay annoyed!?)

"You said if I kept going straight for a half a mile, I'd be back on the official route," Zoro accuses, apparently unimpressed by all the effort Law is making to look so aggravated. Does he know how difficult he is when he is so attractive!?

"That was like three miles back!" Law snaps, pointing the way Zoro had just come, as if he wouldn't have been able to pick out which street he'd just biked down. "There was no way you stayed straight!" (Law doesn't color any at the strange wording, but his ears do feel a bit warmer for some reason.)

They had been playing this "game" for hours now, since 8 am this morning actually. That's when the gruelling, cross island bike race started. Law didn't have the time or desire to put his body through such a marathon, but the race itself was for a good cause, so every year he volunteered some of his time as an on-site medic. This usually meant being driven between the various water stops and check points, just making sure none of the contestants keeled over before the halfway point. Since Law's apartment was so close to the starting point of the race, that is the section he helped to cover, which meant that after the initial few scrapes, he rarely had anyone to see to, and was usually free to roam around town, maybe getting coffee, grabbing snacks for some of the other volunteers, doing a bit of shopping.

Whatever it was he wound up going, if seemed at least for today that he was guaranteed to find at least one racer had beat him there. Strange, since none of those places were on the actual route itself.

"Just tell me where the track is and stop messing around!" Zoro pushes back, clearly annoyed it's taking so long to get directions. (What's his hurry? Is it that important for him to get even more lost?)

This time Law's sigh sounds, if anything, overly exasperated. "Why not just go home?" He suggests, trying to wave off the whole conversation. He didn't want to be responsible for this kid winding up the fuck knows where, trying to find his way back to the official route. It would take at least six different turns and Law is certain there Zoro would be more likely to wind up biking across the ocean than being able to follow such convoluted directions.

Zoro just snorts, giving Law a harsh look. "If you don't know the way, don't keep pretending you do."

Okay, now Law's cheeks DO color, but not for the same reason. "Idiot! Of course I know the way! You're the one who keeps getting lost!" With gestures much not so much smooth (certainly less so than when he'd first kindly corrected Zoro's path, back when Law had been more interested in trying to get his number than if he actually found the official route again) but more violent, as if trying to punch his own pocket, Law digs out a small piece of paper - some guy whose number he actually had managed to snag (he hadn't asked but the cheerful, freckled raven haired boy had been cute enough that he hadn't immediately tossed it in the trash) - and starts searching for something to write with. Fine! He'll give the wandering biker his damn directions, just as soon as he finds a damn pen.

"this is taking too long," Zoro has the nerve to complain even as he stands there, bike between his legs, just watching Law digging around in his pockets, looking utterly unimpressed. "Do you really know the way this time?"

Law growls at that. He had known the way every time! He isn't sure what Zoro is playing at but it's certainly not Law's fault! If anything, it seems more as if Zoro is just determined to keep himself lost! "Of course I do."

Zoro holds a hand out, which Law fairly simply stares at. There is no pen in it, so he's not sure what Zoro is offering....

"Then prove it. Get on."

Law sputters. It is not all smooth or sexy or flirtatious, not in the least. "Wh-what?"

"And hurry," Zoro adds, annoyed that Law is taking so long to, you know, jump on a bike with a total, likely insane stranger. "I'm not going to let old curly brow win just because they didn't mark the route!"

They very much had marked the route, and there were signs everywhere. Even miles away from the race, Law can see a poster stapled to a tree announcing that Pier Road would be closed for the race.

"There isn't even a second seat!" Law objects, as if that is the biggest flaw in this plan. This insane plan. This insane plan by an insane boy (who was insanely cute). "Where would I even-?"

"Just hold onto me. I can carry you no problem."

Law opens his mouth to point out one of the other ten billion problems with this plan, he really does. He's going to tell Zoro off for even suggesting such a stupid idea and then continue his walk home, probably while muttering to himself about frustrating greenhaired boys who keep finding their way to him, even if they can't seem to locate anything else on this whole damn island.

He's going to, but somehow Law finds he's taking Zoro's hand. Still, it's a surprise how easily the other boy hefts him up, tossing Law easily over his back, with Law's arms wrapped around his shoulders.

He can feel all of Zoro's body heat like this, pressed up against him as he is. It makes Law want to close his eyes, lean into it. Except he also, you know, doesn't want to open them to find out they've somehow ended up on a completely different island, possibly on the other half of the Grand Line altogether.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar law #zolaw #law x zoro #one piece fanfiction #one piece au #modern au #prompt fill #one shot short

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doyumacy · 4 years ago

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ʀɪᴅᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ - 1

ʏᴜᴛᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴍᴀʀᴋ ʟᴇᴇ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ɢᴏɴᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ʏᴇᴀʀ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ. ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀʟꜰ ʙᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’ꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴀ ʟᴇɢᴇɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʀᴀᴄᴇꜱ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ɢɪʀʟꜱ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ʙᴏʏ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ʀᴀᴄᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏɴ’ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ʜɪᴍ ɢᴇᴛ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ.

ᴍᴀʀᴋ ʟᴇᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱᴛᴀʏɪɴɢ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴇᴛ ʀᴀᴄᴇꜱ, ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴜɴ. ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴛɪʀ ᴜᴘ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʙᴇɢɪɴꜱ ʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴘᴏɴꜱᴏʀ’ᴀ ʜᴀʟꜰ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴘɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴏꜰꜰ.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ, ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴜɢꜱ, ɢᴜɴꜱ, ɢᴜɴꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ, ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴊᴏᴋᴇꜱ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛꜱ,

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5,3ᴋ

three years ago

you slide out from under the car you've been working on when you hear an unfamiliar engine approaching the garage. it must be a customer, you think as you go to the front desk to help them.

the man who enters the office surprises you. he has light brown hair and is wearing black jeans with a white shirt with black flowers. his dark brown eyes sparkle with curiosity as he sees you. a black maserati is parked behind him.

"can i help you?" you ask, freely.

"i have a faulty spark plug and my garage is on the other side of the planet. they told me this was the best place in town."

"and it is. go ahead and go into the store."

"don't mechanics normally keep people waiting in the office?" he asked amused.

"only when the person doesn't know anything about cars. obviously you do, so you have to keep me company while i fix it," you smirk.

"what's your name, suh? -he asks, using the last name on your work shirt.

"y/n. yours?"

"yuta. nakamoto yuta."

"nice to meet you. let's get that car fixed, shall we?"

a few minutes later, the black car is with the hood open in the garage. yuta, on the other hand, is helping you by handing you the necessary tools. you let his fingers brush a little more than strictly necessary when yuta hands you a wrench.

yuta smiles and leans back against the car once you're done. "how much do i owe you?" he asks quietly.

it takes you a second to really register how close you are to each other. you look him in the eye. "how about you take me out to dinner and the debt is settled?" you ask in a sudden flare of audacity.

fortunately, he smiles.

"my thoughts exactly. what time will you be out here?

“six.”

he looks down at that ridiculously nice black gold watch.

"it's only an hour from now. how about i keep you company until then?"

"i'd like that."

"so what were you working on before I showed up?"

"my charger over there. there are some bastards who want to compete with me saying their luxury imports can beat it. tonight they're in for an ugly surprise."

you assume yuta has heard about your garage, knows about your regular clientele. they consider themselves the best store around to the fellow street racers. but to everyone else, it's just a small garage.

"that sounds like something i'd like to see. mind if i stay and watch you kick their asses?"

"it'd be my pleasure," you smile.

as expected, you end up following yuta back to his apartment after winning the race by a solid car length. the endorphins from winning the race flood your senses, and yuta is amazed that he had managed to stumble upon such an amazing girl. someone like him.

sl walking, you find yourself wrapped in warm arms and leaning against a hard chest. you caress the dragon-shaped tattoo on his right shoulder and plant a kiss on it.

a quiet moan tells you she is waking up. his arm tightens around her. he plants a kiss on your forehead.

"Good morning to you too," you say.

yuta rolls you onto his back and rests his torso on top of yours. "good morning."

"You look happy.

"i woke up with a beautiful, bad-ass, street-racing woman in my arms. how could i complain?"

you laugh. "well, i could say the same thing. it's not often i get to wake up next to a hot guy and that brother would probably beat up if he knew where i spent the night."

he barks out a laugh. "you're most likely right..." he bites his lip. "there's something you need to know."

your smile disappears. "you're not married, are you?"

"no! god, no," he replies instantly. "i just want to know if you want it to be more than a brief fling."

you are silent for a moment as he thought.

"yes, i think so. i mean, we could get to know each other better but yes," you explain.

"then we're on the same page," you nod absently. "do you want to have breakfast before we go on with our talk?"

you can't help but get a little nervous. what does he have to say?

"what do you want for breakfast?"

"uh..." you sit up, holding the black sheet against your chest to cover yourself. "whatever. i'm not particularly picky."

yuta nods and gets out of bed, pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants. he leaves his room and you lie back down on the bed. your cell phone rings somewhere in yuta's room and you grunt getting up to look for it. you find it inside your jeans.

"y/n! where the hell are you?" johnny asks as soon as you answer the phone. “you didn’t come home last night, and jaehyun said there was a guy watching you the entire race.”

“don’t worry about it, brother. that guy was my date last night. i’m at this place right now,” you grin.

“hold on, you had a date?! who? why didn’t you tell me?” johnny bombards you with questions.

you sigh. you saw this coming.

“everything all right?” yuta asks, entering his bedroom.

“my brother,” you say with your mouth. “johnny! easy with the questions. i’ll tell you later, bye!”

“be responsible!” it can be heard from the phone and you hang up.

you exhale dramatically and fall back on the bed.

“trouble, dear?” yuta inquiries.

you raise your head to look at him. “big brothers are tedious,” you announce after a minute.

“i wouldn’t know; i’m the older brother.”

“oh?”

yuta smiles warmly. “i have a younger brother. the idiot used to fight older bullies in the yard, and i was the one who had to finish them off.”

you smirk. “you protected him. my brother’s the same way.”

“let’s eat, okay? i still need to talk about something important,” yuta declares.

you nod and he tosses you slightly one of his shirts. you put it on and grab your panties putting them on.

yuta made sunny side up eggs and french toasts. between bites, yuta begins to speak. “i work for the korean mafia.”

“huh?” you stop eating and stare at him. “you what?”

yuta laughs lightly. “i work for the korean mafia.” he repeats. “i bet you’re wondering what a japanese guy is doing working for the korean mafia.”

“not exactly my first thought but yes,” you shrug. “what do you do?”

“let’s say i’m a middleman between the korean mafia and the yakuza,” he confesses.

you frown. “so you buy goods from them and sell them?”

yuta raises an eyebrow at you. “what are you? a businesswoman?”

you laugh and have a bite of your toast. “i went to business school, but i dropped out this semester.”

“hot,” he plants a kiss on your lips. “so yes, that’s my job. aren’t you scared?”

“of what? you? your job?” you snort. “i’ve seen way worse in the underground. i gotta say i’m surprised because i thought you were a good boy.”

yuta chuckles. “i am good at other things,” he winks at you.

you push the plate aside and sit on his lap. “i can’t recall, do you mind refreshing my memory?”

yuta grins and places his hand on your ass cheeks. “aren’t you too sore?”

“pain is my best friend,” you nip at his lip and he groans.

yuta kisses you and his hand goes to your throat tilting your head to the side and biting your neck harshly. you whimper at the painful yet pleasurable sensation. yuta shushes you and darts his eyes to you. “i thought you enjoyed the pain, baby girl.”

one year ago

you’re standing in front of his gravestone and place the flower bouquet next to it. the only sound is the wind, rustling through a nearby copse of trees. it has been five days since yuta died and the hole in your chest only gets deeper.

it hurts.

you’re broken.

your life without him means nothing. the city without him means nothing. nothing makes sense without him.

“you shouldn’t have died,” you say. “we could have been better.” you mumble, sitting in front of the grave. “it’s weird, today i woke up and i thought i heard your voice. am i going crazy?” you scoff.

you stare at the gravestone and then lower your heard. “i came to say goodbye. i can’t stay here anymore. everywhere i go i see your face. everyone reminds me of you.”

you feel tears streaming down your face. “i’ll never forget you, yuta. i love you so much.” you burst out crying.

after you left town, you were pretty much everywhere: singapore, thailand, indonesia, philippines, malaysia and even japan for a few weeks. racing and making a fame known as the ‘nameless girl’ who would beat everyone.

you left a note to johnny saying you’d be okay and you would return when you feel ready to.

you didn’t stay long in every country and you didn’t make any relations so things didn’t attach to you there. you were lonely but you got used to it. and you didn’t dislike it.

one night, you decided it was time to come back home. yuta would never come back and you felt you moved on.

the train arrives at its last stop and you grab your small suitcase exiting it. you walk and take a taxi to your house, or johnny’s house just to find a party. people and their racing cars everywhere.

of course. it’s friday.

you get into your house and see people everywhere. people dancing, no, grinding on each other’s bodies and blowing some smoke. perhaps weed. you walk through the crowded living room and spot johnny sipping a beer. you don’t know how he's going to react since you didn’t tell anyone you’re back.

you walk to johnny but he’s interrupted by a red haired and kissed him. you roll your eyes, johnny and his bitches.

you change your direction walking to the kitchen and see jaehyun talking to some people. he turns to you and doesn’t seem to notice you, it’s when he turns again and his face brightens up with a smile. “y/n!” he walks to you and tugs you for a hug, lifting you from the ground.

“hi,” you giggle, placing a kiss on his cheek.

jaehyun puts you back on the ground and smiles, "i almost didn't recognize you, you've changed so much."

“i just dyed my hair: i got babylights,” you grin.

“i like them, you look great,” jaehyun nods. “but where have you been?!”

“huh everywhere?” you shrug.

“and you couldn’t call?” he stares at you.

“i know, i’m sorry,” you rest a hand on his shoulder. “we’ll talk later, okay? where’s everyone?”

“johnny is lena, jungwoo is having a blunt with jinsoul in the yard and of course jisung is in his room, he’s not allowed to come downstairs,” jaehyun comments.

you nod and rest your hands on your waist. “i don’t know half of these people. who are they?”

“johnny became kind of a sponsor?” jaehyun frowns and you laugh. “no, it’s true! half of these people are rich kids betting on johnny's people, he met two guys that are literally gods of racing.”

“i’d like to see that,” you add. “what are their names?”

“mark lee and lee donghyuck,” jaehyun hands you a beer. “they’re dickheads but we’ve been getting so much money because of them.”

you scoff. “they’re just lucky. i am back.”

jaehyun whistles, smiling. “that’s the attitude, baby. i can’t wait to see you race again.”

you smirk. “i bet you wanna.”

“ah, johnny’s coming,” jaehyun murmurs.

you turn and see a blond haired johnny walking towards you. you tuck your hands into your jeans pocket and smile nicely. “hi brother.”

“when people started saying my sister was here i didn’t believe it because maybe she left this fucking town a year ago leaving just a note!” johnny exclaims. “and thought ‘why would she return just like that?’”

you sigh. “i’m sorry, johnny. but i’m back and i’m okay. that’s the only thing that should matters.”

johnny rolls his eyes. “are you dumb?”

you frown. “just because you’re my brother i d-

“half-brother,” johnny remarks.

“fuck you, johnny,” you hiss and leave the kitchen

when johnny gets upset he tends to be the classical dickhead and uses the ‘half-brother’ excuse just to hurt you. you think you might deserve it, but why is it so hard for him to understand why you left? why you need to leave?

maybe it’s because he has never loved someone the way you loved yuta. or maybe he’s too selfish to understand it.

of course you also think you didn’t do the right thing by simply disappearing out of the blue, but again, you don’t owe anything to no one.

you go to the bathroom that is next to the stairs and groan when you realise it’s locked. you lean against the wall and sigh. next to you, there are three girls whispering and laughing. you don’t care, until you hear your name.

“did you see y/n? she’s back,” one of them says.

“yeah. i thought she was in jail,” the other mocks.

“in jail? for what?” she laughs.

“apparently she was the one that killed yuta,” she comments. “and ran away, but my boyfriend told me the police caught her.”

the blonde one laughs. “poor thing.”

“and i’d go back to jail for ripping your ugly faces off,” you murmur, still leaning against the wall.

the girls stare at you and they decide to leave. you groan, rolling your eyes. “assholes.”

someone walking down the hallway whistles and smiles at you. “should i be concerned about my well being right now?.”

you look at them and you see a black haired guy, wearing a green jacket with black ripped jeans and black shirt. you scoff. “fuck off, dude.”

“but please don’t rip my face off.,” the guy rests his hand on his chest.

you stare at him and clench your jaw. “bugger off, dude. really, i’m not in the mood to take someone’s shit.”

“sorry,” he nods. “i’m mark by the way,” he passes the bottle of the beer he’s drinking to his free hand and extends his hand.

you look at his hand, hesitant. you shake your head and take it. “y/n.”

he grins, gripping at your hand. “you’re the famous y/n.”

you chuckle. “and you’re not the famous mark lee.”

mark smiles sideways. “so you’ve heard about me.”

“very little,” you shrug. “nothing impressive.”

“ah, they weren’t wrong when they said you’re a bitch,” mark frees your hand.

“did i hurt your feelings?” you pout mockingly.

“you’re gonna need more than that to hurt my feelings, gorgeous,” he winks at you.

you nod. “noted, boy. well, it was nice talking to you.”

“you leaving already?” mark asks.

“yeah. i’m tired and i need a place to sleep,” you say. “i guess i’ll see you around.”

mark nods. “have a good night, y/n.”

(...)

“when did she get back? how come i didn't see her?” donghyuck slides off the plastic armrest of the outdoor sofa he was sitting on.

jeno walks away to get a drink. “who 's back?” he asks.

“y/n suh,” mark replies.

“johnny’s sister?” jeno looks at him.

donghyuck and mark nod.

“what was she in jail for, like, a year?” jeno’s voice drops to a whisper.

“she was in jail?” donghyuck stares at mark.

“no. she just disappeared last fall,” mark explains.

“it was probably jail,” donghyuck adds, “that or she had a baby. i mean, the timing kind of fits for that, don’t you think?”

“and where’s the baby, smartass?” mark glances at him.

“gave it away for adoption,” donghyuck shrugs.

“what are you fuckers talking about,” johnny questions, going outside the house.

“your sibling,” jeno admits, earning an elbow to his side by mark.

johnny laughs and turns to look out over his yard. “which one?”

“y/n.”

“watch it, dude,” jaehyun warns him, joining them outside.. “johnny’s not too forgiving when it comes to his siblings.”

“noted.” jeno nods.

“anyways, i’m here to talk business,” johnny sits in front of them.

“back to the things i like,” mark comments.

johnny grins. “there’s a race next weekend, 15 grand for the winner.”

donghyuck whistles. “i like what i’m hearing already.”

“it’s a bit complicated since it won’t be in an enclosed area as usual. it will be in downtown LA,” johnny adds.

“count me in,” mark says.

“dude, do you know how risky it is?” jeno stares at him.

“i’ve done riskier things and here i am,” mark rolls his eyes. “i’ll be there, johnny.”

“you’re my favourite,” johnny smiles and looks at jeno and donghyuck. “you two are disappointing me.”

“i can live with that but not in jail,” donghyuck smirks.

“pussy,” jaehyun hums.

“sorry mr. in-n-out-from-jail,” donghyuck rolls his eyes.

mark chuckles. “that race it’s already mine. and the cops can suck my dick, they wish they were as fast as me.”

“my canadian boy right here is the shit,” johnny smiles.

(...)

the bright neon lights. the skimpy clothing worn by chasers. the many cars lined up.

it's another night in los angeles, and another night means another race.

mark breathes it in as he leans on his orange acura nsx. not a single scratch in sight on the top of the car. although he's working with a sponsor, he has his own gang known as death angels, because they’re risk takers, or most of them are.. he can hear the countless bickering of his gang, who are also his closest friends. donghyuck, jeno, and earphone yves, lucas, bickering about god knows what now. jeno and lucas are conversing about seeing some new people joining the race.

there's no doubt he probably owns the most showy and expensive car in the entire parking lot. until a brown haired girl, who he knows, motioned him to come over.

you.

"seems like you got a challenger," donghyuck murmurs.

"tsk, anyone can beat her. what's so special about her anyway?" mark says, annoyed.

yves clicks her tongue. "i wouldn't be so sure about it, babe."

you get off from your car, hair tied up, perfectly showing your features. your toned eyes are slightly covered with black eyeliner. wearing tight jeans, black t-shirt and a red leather jacket.

you look like you are meant to be there. not a chaser wanting attention, not a flag girl wanting to show herself off, but. tracer. the crowd don't bother you. you begin to slightly look around, and that's when you see mark. you and mark lock eyes, and with a strut, you walk with a confident walk over mark.

crossing your arms, showing off your figure, you take a breath, and open your mouth. "no shit you're here as well."

mark scoffs. "i'm a car racer, where else was i supposed to be?"

"junior leagues," you shrug and you hear one of his friends laugh.

mark stares at you and grins. "i challenge you to a race. simply, nobody else. that is if you are up for it."

the offer is rather simple.

an easy 10-second style race, just the two of you, nobody else.

you let out a breathy chuckle, nodding your head. "alright then, it's settled." you reply, standing up to his level, and leaning over his ear. "but don't be crying when you loose, sweetheart"

mark scoffs at that. "you're underestimating my ability right now, gorgeous." he says, poking his lips out in a seductive manner.

you laugh and he smiles.

you turn around for just a few seconds, yelling over to him words that are barely audible. “te veré al inicio de la línea,” (i'll see you at the starting lineyou say.

mark’s orange acura nsx is a perfect fit considering the late at night arrival they have been in. it’s his prized possession, obviously. he checks the side of his car, smirking to himself seeing the NOS lined up on the passenger seat. however, your white nissan gtr is a good contrast. no dent is seen on it, and the engines flare when you start it, earning an erupt from the spectators. fifteen thousand dollars are on the game, and you need that money.

you notice the flag-girl as one of the members of death angels. she wears a simple purple and black outfit: purple harem pants and a black bomber jacket, carefully showing her slightest laced bra. she looks good, there’s no denying it. and with that, she points at mark, starting his engines and giving a show for his car. then she points to you, and you’re wearing a smile on your face. your engines starting.

and time seems to stop when you hear words emit from her mouth. “go!”

mark and you immediately go and hit the accelerator at about the same time, so you two are neck and neck. you know your strategy, and mark knows his.

8 seconds left.

knowing this, mark uses his NOS, eating a prideful laugh and his back hitting the seat. but you have different plans. you wear a smug look, and let out a giggle. “the NOS he’s using will take a shorter time than it relatively should.” you think you yourself, and activate yours.

6 seconds left.

you fly back to your seat, seeing the crowd erupt in cheers. mark sees your white nissan catch up to him, and before he knows, you’re way ahead of him.

“shit!” he yells.

2 seconds.

and before he knows, you are at the finish line, turning your car around and creating a donut with it, earning praise from the crowd. marks ends up second, or last in this case. he gets out of the car with a scowl, and you make your way to him, with a smile on your face, and your hair is out of the ponytail you have been wearing.

“the NOS you used, doesn't take up as much time as normal NOS used. it was a bit too early,” you say, giving your hand out to him. he clicks his tongue, now slightly irritated to know the fact you're indeed right. marks gives you the money. “pass by the shop any time you want.”

“why would you want to help me anyways? we’re rivals now,” he cocks an eyebrow.

you sigh, when you are interrupted by the shouts of numerous spectators and blaring sirens.

“cops! cops!”

everything happens so fast. next thing you know, you are in the back of your car, hitting your foot on the accelerator and immediately rushing out of the area, keeping an eye out for cops in your view mirror. luckily, you don’t seem to spot many. but where you don’t look?

right in front of you.

bullets ricochet throughout the alley way, earning a slight flinch from you. you are scared. only a few times bullets have been in front of you. you quickly take out your silver handgun from out of your shirt, shooting at the cop, not enough to kill him, but it’s enough to get him to surrender.

“bullet proof vests don’t cover the legs, idiot,” you mumble, smirking ever so slightly. you turn a sharp left, going back to the place where you call home. a right. then left. another right. straight forward 2 miles, and there you are.

“ＳＵＨ　ＭＥＣＨＡＮＩＣＳ　ＡＮＤ　ＭＡＮＵＦＡＣＴＵＲＩＮＧ” is written in bold letters. you love this place, you and your brother practically grow up there. you make your way inside, after swiftly parking your car into your garage. the shop is somewhat connected to the house from behind, so you make your way out of the garage, locking the door swiftly, and arriving with 2 familiar faces.

“you had no business ruining mark’s race!” johnny stands in front of you. he’s angry.

“forget about that!” jaehyun stares at johnny and then at you. “you just returned like two hours ago and the cops are after you already? can you be more careful?”

“ah, br- sorry, half-brother, jaehyun. i appreciate the concern and all, but i got this covered, you know?” you reply and look at your brother. “and please, if you really cared about mark you would have recommended him a new NOS. his sucks.”

jaehyun presses his lips together. “it’s true. i’ve been telling you about that for weeks.”

johnny rolls his eyes. “it’s not my fault. the kid won’t change them.”

“well, then you should find a new guy because you won’t make much money with him.” you say and you take out your money. “and me? i am back, baby.”

jaehyun smirks. “then i guess beers are on you.”

“you guess right.”

(...)

mark rushes off in his car, having donghyuck joining him. he locks his gun, having his fingers on the trigger for any given moment. mark sighs out a stuttered breath, immediately hitting the accelerator and rushing out of the way. he has another tank full of NOS, that donghyuck simply swaps out, for mark to use at any moment.

“jeno and yves have made it back alright,” donghyuck tells him, while mark drives at an inhumane pace.

mark nods and takes the exit 12, driving to glendale. and after almost 25 minutes, they arrive at their warehouse. he parks his car next to jeno’s and they make their way inside.

“dude! that was fucking awesome!” jeno approaches him. “now i understand why the streets wouldn't shut up about her.”

yves rolls his eyes. “it was just lucky. she’s not that good.”

“then you wouldn't mind racing against her,” donghyuck hums.

“please, she’s nothing to me,” yves smirks.

“she got you mad,” mark walks to the kitchen. “she is something to you.”

“anyway,” jeno locks the door. “who sent those policemen? it’s weird, we have been using the same location for months,” jeno asks.

“someone was there. someone who’s purpose wasn’t to spectate or race, but to infliritrate,” mark sighs, adjusting his belt from his jeans.

“i’m wondering if suh is single,” donghyuck sits, ignoring the talk his friends are having.

“johnny or y/n?” mark mocks him.

“she doesn’t date,” yves sits next to him. “or that’s what i’ve heard.”

“since when you’re a fan of gossip?” jeno frowns.

“you don’t need to gossip, everyone talks about her and her tragic love life,” yves shrugs.

“so she wasn’t in jail?” donghyuck inquiries.

“i already told you she wasn’t in jail, smartass,” mark tosses him a beer.

“then where was she?” jeno sits in front of donghyuck.

yves slides a little on the couch. “you ever heard about nakamoto yuta?”

the three men shake their heads. yves rolls her eyes. “he used to work for the korean mafia and the yakuza doing what? i don’t know, but he was well known before we arrived here.”

“and what happened to him?” jeno asks.

“he messed with the wrong people, and he paid for his mistakes,” yves says. “they got him and killed him.”

“and how is he related to y/n?” mark rubs his chin with his index finger.

“they were together,” yves pulls out a box of cigarettes. “and days after his murder, she went away.”

jeno grimaces. “i would’ve done the same. it’s sad.”

“well, he’s dead and we can’t do shit to help her,” donghyuck stretches out his arms. “she’s hot.”

“dude,” jeno chuckles. “we were just talking about his dead boyfriend and you’re saying she’s hot?”

“donghyuck only uses his lower head,” yves mocks. “why are you even surprised?”

mark laughs and donghyuck rolls his eyes. “i’m gonna race against her again.”

“dude, you want to lose again?” jeno stares at him.

mark frowns. “a little bit of support?”

(...)

a few days later, you are working at your peace in call, the mechanic shop. you work with jungwoo, jaehyun, and johnny. jaehyun is an incredibly talented racer, that’s for sure, he was the one who taught you everything you know. johnny and jaehyun are practically always together.

they have been friends since high school, and he’s close with you as well, despite you going to a different school.

so, there you are currently stocking up the shelves and displays with certain kinds of replacements and NOS, to whoever needs them. you wear leather pants, along with a white turtleneck shirt. your hair is down.

“do you have everything locked? storage room too, jungwoo?” you ask the blond.

“yep! johnny is currently working on the new car by the way. he said the client wanted something old school, and because of this, he got inspiration from somewhere,” he informs.

you raise an eyebrow, handing jungwoo the remaining products form the shelves, and making your way inside the shop. you see a black haired man glancing at the shelves with NOS.

you approach him. “hi, welcome. can i help you?”

the man turns and he smiles at you.

mark lee.

you stop the urge of rolling your eyes. “and we see each other.”

“you told me i could pass by whenever i wanted to,” he shrugs. “

“that was me being nice because i beat you,” you smirk.

mark grins. “then i suppose i should go to the Fascinare’s shop? i heard they’re nicer.”

if you and johnny didn’t hate the Facinare you probably would’ve told him to go, but since they are your competition you couldn't afford losing a customer.

you sigh. “of course we can help you.” you fake a smile.

“that’s what i thought,” mark says. “how many days will it take?”

you take a look at his car. “up to 1 to 3 days.”

he nods. “fantastic. i’ll be looking forward to racing against you again then.”

you scoff, crossing your arms on your chest. “i can give your car all the NOS in this world and yet, you won’t beat me.”

“you were just lucky the other night, gorgeous,” he winks at you.

“maybe if you focus on racing instead of flirting you might beat me,” you grin.

mark chuckles and nods. “right. i’ll leave you my phone so you can give me a call when my baby is ready.”

“my god,” you hum. “be right back.”

you go behind the counter and grab a small notebook and a pen. you hand it to mark and write his number down. “i’ll be looking forward for that call.”

“hopefully it won't be me making it,” you smile falsely.

“alright. see you then,” marks says, exiting the shop. “don’t miss me much, gorgeous.”

you roll your eyes again, and smile lowering your head.

you then frown and shake your head.

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