#street racing

[starkeyssweetheart]

test drive (one shot) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

summary: you and rafe ‘test drive’ your brother’s new bike

pairing: daredevil!reader x detective!drew

warnings: flirting, dirty talk, dry humping, fingering, overstimulation

maybe you should’ve listened to rafe; words you had never thought before. he made it extremely clear for you to stay home tonight. and to definitely not touch your brother’s newly stolen bike. but, as always, you couldn’t resist.

your eyes sparkle with pure bliss as you clutch the handles, your glossy lips stretched into a wide grin as you speed down the roads of california to rafe’s house.

you find him immediately, sitting on the porch with a lit cigarette between his lips. he glares at you, almost instinctual at this point, scrutinising your position on the bike. legs spread apart, even in a denim mini skirt, revealing the black lace of your panties. you blink at him innocently.

“like what you see, big guy?” you wag your eyebrows playfully, referring to the new bike. you could tell rafe was restraining himself by the way his jaw clenches and knuckles white with tension. he drops his cigarette, stamping it out with his boot before crossing the distance to you.

“the fuck you think you’re doing, trouble?” he asks, his accent prominent as his eyes burning holes into your skin. after disobeying him and your brother once again, he’s beyond pissed off.

you mock gasp at his grumpy tone, not even attempting to pull down your skirt after it rides up to your hips. “can’t i come and visit my good old pal?”

the corner of his lips tug up at that. “is that what we are?” he asks, eyebrow raised. he stands closer to you than usual, your knee pressed against the side of his hip.

“friends… lovers…. whatever you want, rafey,” you wag your eyebrows again, this time eliciting an eye roll from the older, who is used to your flirtatious antics by now. he curses under his breath, regretting throwing away his cigarette. you watch with bright eyes and a sweet smile as he pulls another one out, lighting it quickly.

before he can even take a puff, you pluck it from his lips, placing it between your own with a smirk and inhaling deeply. his eyes narrow at you, snatching it back easily. “watch it,” he grunts, inhaling himself and blowing out the air away from your face.

you watch him momentarily, simply happy to be in his presence. the danger of it all, you think as you toy with the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning one too many. he grabs your hand quickly, casting you a warning glare.

the next thing you know, rafe tugs you off the bike, gently setting you on the floor before hopping on himself. your smile drops as your regard his position on the ducati. “uhh, what do you think you’re doing?”

taking a final puff of his second cigarette, he throws it to the floor. “get on, trouble. ‘m taking you home,” he glares down at you, but there’s no hostility in it. he gives you an expectant look, waiting for you to sit behind him. instead, you hoist yourself onto the front end of the bike, practically on his lap, faces inches apart.

“don’t push me right now,” his voice is dangerously low as his eyes flickering down to the skirt which much more resembled a belt at how short it was.

he examines your precarious position, dangerously close to the man. your legs on either side of his, you scoot closer so your chest pressed against his. he knows you like to play with him, and it takes every ounce of his self control not to give into you. after all, it would ruin his entire undercover mission. you were convinced he wouldn’t cross the line, even after practically flashing him at every opportunity.

your body heats at your proximity, the california sunset casting golden light over his features as he regards you. “have you ever ridden like this before?” you ask with a playful smile, hands grazing the growing bulge in his jeans as you settle them in your lap.

“backwards?” he clarifies, ignoring the innuendo and catching your wandering hands before you could tease him. you nod and he scoffs. “no, i’m not suicidal.” you laugh at his expression, his lips tugging down with clear disapproval.

“so… we’re test driving this thing?” you ask, smiling at the thought. both of you share a love of racing, and although he hated to admit, driving together. he nods, rolling his eyes as he gives in.

rafe reaches around your waist, ignoring your straying hands as he touches the throttle and brake. your chest, only accentuated by your revealing top, rises and falls in a shallow rhythm, causing a low grunt to sound from him.

“you’re fucking trouble,” he tells you, grabbing your chin and fighting every instinct in his body to not take you there and then. he reaches behind him with one arm, grabbing the spare helmet from the back of the bike and placing it over your head.

adjusting it uncomfortably, you glare at him through the screen, disliking the safety measure. “how are we supposed to make out now?” you huff, half joking as you hold onto his shirt.

“we’ll find a way, gorgeous,” he smirks sarcastically and you’re taken aback momentarily by the switch in his demeanour. was he finally flirting back?

rafe speeds off without warning, causing you to lurch into his body with a hard slam. you grin, enjoying not being coddled for once. it’s easy for the two of you to lose track of time, and it’s dark before you make it to your house, parking inside the garage outside of the silent house.

instead of hopping off of the bike (and him) you remain in his lap, adjusting your position in his lap. you don’t even bother to hide your obvious attempt to create some friction between you, clearly turned on since the moment you saw him.

he lets out a low grunt, his hands gripping your hips tightly to cease your movements. a whine erupts from your throat and he silences you with a look. “you’re fucking trouble,” he tells you for the millionth time, pulling off your helmet in one swift motion.

you barely have time to blink when he’s wrapping your hair in his fist, kissing you with an abrupt, forceful passion that gives you more of a thrill than anything had before. a breathless moan leaves you before you can refrain it from spilling out, leaving you blushing as he tugs your waist closer to him.

your bodies connect like they’ve been dying for this feeling forever. rafe hikes both of your legs around his waist so you’re fully on his lap, his tongue effortlessly sliding into your mouth.

you cross your ankles around his waist, not stopping to think about what this all means, completely lost in the pleasure. threading your fingers into his brown locks, you tug at him impatiently, desiring his touch.

his muscular arms constrict around your waist, pulling you up before laying you down across the bike on your back. he breaks away from you, very much unwillingly for you, as you gasp for breath.

rafe’s apprehension is clear in his eyes as he stares down at you with a conflicted expression. was he willing to jeopardise his work for you? the answer became more clear everyday.

you shake your head slightly, assuming that his conflict was to do with his fear of betraying your older brother, his best friend. “he can’t dictate my entire life, rafe,” you tell him softly, chest still heaving as you try to catch your breath.

he shakes his head, tangling his hand through your hair. “is this what you really want, huh?” he asks gruffly, his other hand drawing circles on your waist. “‘want me to fuck you?” he nudges your nose with his, demanding an answer.

“please, rafe,” you groan, all acts of defiance from before going out the window with pure need for his touch. the anticipation was all-consuming. infuriating.

“please what, sweetheart? if you want something then fucking ask nicely,” he says, voice gruff with lust as he massages your waist, practically dry humping you like a teenager. his hardened length bulges through his jeans, pressing into your heat with a sense of urgency. all of your prior confidence had disappeared at this point, and rafe can see it in your pleading eyes.

“not running your pretty little mouth now, huh?” he taunts, tugging the remainder of your skirt up to reveal your lacy black panties. without warning, he cups your heat, the corner of his lip tugging up as he feels how soaking wet you are. his fingers slip underneath the thin material, running his fingers between your glistening folds. “this wet for me, gorgeous?”

“fuck,” you moan, throwing your head back against the handlebars as he massages your folds ruthlessly. suddenly, he removes his fingers, the lack of contact making you groan, before putting them to his own lips and taking them in his mouth.

“sweeter than i fucking thought,” he licks his lips, leaning down to kiss you again. you barely even notice his hands undoing your top, pulling it off easily and revealing your black lacy bra underneath.

“fuck me,” rafe groans as he closes his eyes, clenching his hands into fists against the hard metal of the bike as he holds himself back from fucking you mindless right then and there.

rafe can no longer restrain himself, already addicted to the taste of your lips. his kisses were nothing you’d had before; the thrill of the rush was incomparable. the built up tension and desire from the last few months had finally erupted as you tear off each other’s clothes with little care for the consequences.

the loud moans he was drawing out of you was enough to make you blush, pulling away for a breather. rafe laughs, amused at your sudden shyness. he holds your chin in place, ensuring you keep eye contact with him even as you lay half naked below him on your brother’s bike. “don’t get shy on me, trouble. been waiting for this for a long time.”

his fingers work to unclasp the back of your bra, watching with decadent satisfaction as your breasts spill out in front of him. he nearly finishes at the sight, adjusting the bulge in his jeans as he stares at you. “so fucking pretty,” he praises you, pressing light kisses to each breast.

you inhale a sharp breath as his hands envelope both of your tits, massaging roughly. rafe already knew you weren’t into the slow and mundane, and he wasn’t about to leave you unsatisfied.

you thought you knew what pleasure was, but as soon as rafe plunged his fingers into your throbbing pussy, you were in another world. with your back arching off the bike, your hands flew to his arm, moaning at his touch as he pumped his finger in and out of you. “so fucking tight, trouble,” he grunts, slipping in another finger without warning as you’re left squirming on the cold metal of the bike.

rafe loved seeing you like this, his endless fantasies somehow coming into fruition. you felt so much better than he expected, wrapped tightly around his fingers, causing his cock to strain against the tightened fabric of his jeans. his thumb rubs hard circles on your clit, unforgiving as you cry out his name repeatedly.

“please, rafe,” you whine, a pleading look in your eyes as you beg for him. “please fuck me.” rafe groans at your words, shaking his head curtly. your begs ceased as your mouth fell open, unable to form coherent words as he relentlessly pumped his fingers into you.

“not yet, trouble,” he whispers lowly into your ear, sucking at your collarbone as your legs begin to shake with an impending orgasm. your chest heaves, unable to catch your breath as he continues, ignoring your cries.

your orgasm was so close you could taste it, eyes rolling back under the sheer force of pleasure. with his thumb rubbing your clit impossibly faster, and his fingers curling inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that made you scream his name, you come with a small cry.

“good girl, baby,” he praises you, your vision blurring as you shake in pleasure. your head rests between his shoulder and the handlebars of the bike as you attempt to regain your breath.

“can’t anymore,” you stutter out, feeling overstimulated as he refuses to stop. he was clearly determined to get another orgasm out of you, pushing you towards the edge one last time. it didn’t take long for the second, already pleasured to the point your vision was blurred and you could barely say his name.

“rafe!” you whimper, eyes screwing closed as he bites at your neck, feeling your orgasm play out. pulling his fingers out, you sigh at the loss of contact, slumping across the bike as he finally lets you go. rafe pecks your forehead, praising you as you regain composure after the aftershocks of your second orgasm.

it’s only after ten minutes when you finally have the strength to speak again, an exhausted but playful smile tugging at your lips. “can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me like this,” you stick your tongue out at him and he smirks, pulling you back up onto his lap and cradling you like a baby.

“yeah, well, don’t fucking tell your brother,” rafe scoffs, feeling a little guilty for hiding the truth from her about why he was so apprehensive to not take her from the beginning. pulling your shirt back over your head, he smiles at your disheveled appearance and the bright look in your eye.

it isn’t until you notice his clothes still in place that you realise he didn’t even get to orgasm himself. “you didn’t get to-” you start but he cuts you off with a hard kiss, tugging at your hair.

after dressing you back in your clothes, he sighs, taking in the sight. “you’re trouble,” he repeats for the umpteenth time, ruffling your locks. “you’re mine now,” he stresses, his intense glare burning into your eyes. your smile stretches.

“wouldn’t have it any other way, big guy.”

a/n: #needthat

[rising-starrr]

hey..👹

street racer!Choso x nerdy!reader

NASTY FRAKY SLOPY MESSY DIRTY SHLOPY JUICY WET CARS SEX🤭 like so basically R is a fan of him and snuck out (she has strict parents and shes a good girl) to the street race and found herself talking to choso after the race (he won of course) and he was falling for her in many ways but he really wanted to fuck and so he took her to his car and sent homegirl to POUNDTOWN AND KEPT POUNDING. because she got that good pussy🤭 yk and he cant get enough overstimulating himself and her but she doesn’t mind. she just has to try and make it home before her parents wake up. good thing its the weekend huh🤭🤭

Send that pussy to poundtown ! - Street Racer!Choso Kamo

warnings: street racer Choso, nerdy Reader, slightly rough sex, Choso having a lot of stamina, car sex, choking, hair pulling, Reader having strict parents, overstimulation, backshots, size kink(bro’s dick is like 11-12 inches).

He can’t get enough of that cunt!/🌽link

Choso Kamo

As usual you were at home studying your ass off for your next quiz. Your parents were strict, so they barely allowed you to go anywhere, even if you didn't have any up-coming quizzes or tests.

You never understood why they were so strict anyways, you passed all your tests, exams, and quizzes, straight A's, top of the class, and they still don't let you get a break.

Crazy thing is you don't even live with them, they just keep in contact with your principal. But you're staying with them for spring break.

“You better be studying!” Your mother snapped as she slammed open your door, standing there with your father right behind her.

You look up from your book and nod . “Yes mother, I am.” You say as you look back down at your book.

Your mother didn’t know if you were lying or not, she was just really stupid to believe her own child.

“Good. You need to be prepared for the test after spring break.” She says, as she looks around your room. “What is with all these goddamn posters of this person ?”

That 'person' was Choso Kamo, a really famous street racer that you have a huge crush on. You didn't know when you developed a crush on him, you saw him on TV and fell in love.

You sigh as you look back down at your book, your mother was always yelling at you for the dumbest reasons possible. Meanwhile your father just stood there and allowed her to yell at you.

She huffed as she turned away from you and slammed your door. One day, that door was going to break off, and you weren't about to take the blame for it.

You stand up and open your door, putting your 'i'm studying, do not disturb' sign on your door and closing it, then locking it.

Sighing as you take out your phone, and check the time. It was 7pm, it was almost time for you to get ready for the street race.

MY BAE(BESTIE<3)

- girl ! where are you ? I'm parked around the corner

read at 7:02pm

you look around as you climb out your window and run towards your best friend’s car. You sighed as you got in and she began to drive off to the race.

When you had finally got there, the race was about to start, and you caught glance of Choso Kamo, he was getting in his car, and starting his engine up.

As soon as the flag went down for the racers to start, Choso started off with incredible speed, and safe to say he won!!

Being the shy person you are, your best friend had to drag you up to Choso, just so you would ask him for an autograph, and hug while you're at it!

You look back at your best friend as she nods, looking over to Choso. “Can.. I get your autograph please?”

You questioned, holding out the journal and pen out to him in case he says yes. He hums as he takes the book and signs it.

‘Choso K.♡’ is what your journal read. He put a cute little heart! You smile as you look back at him.

“Hm, I’ve seen you around, you wanna take a ride in my car sweets ?” Choso questioned as he took your hand in his.

You stutter over your words before shutting up and just nodding. He smirks as he leads you to his car and opens the passenger door for you.

You smile as you get inside the car, and puts the seatbelt on. He hums as he gets in on the other side and starts up the engine.

He began to drive through the neighborhood, his thumb tracing small circles on your inner thigh. He looks at you, asking if he has consent to go further.

Your crush — Choso Kamo, wanted to touch you ? Why pass up such an offer! You nod as he moves his hand up further, stopping in a random parking lot.

“Get in the back seat for me sweets.” He says, as you begin to unbuckle your seatbelt and crawl in the back, him following after you.

He asks for permission to push your skirt up, and makes sure your comfortable, he may be a very messy, and anger-issued person in the streets, but in the sheets, he's sweet and aggressive.

You nod as he pushes up your skirt and moves your panties to the side as you hum. He puts his face between your legs, taking in your scent to his nose.

All he smelled was a sweet cunt that was about to get ravished. To him, you smelled like candy, and sweets all that he loved.

He grips your hips, pulling you closer to his face. His face buried in your cunt, as he sticks his tongue to taste you.

“Shit, you taste so fucking good, sweets..” he murmurs as he comes back up and keeps one hand on your hip, the other unbuckling his belt.

He pushes down his boxers and began lazily stroking his cock. you look back, seeing how big his dick was, that shit wasn’t going to fit in you!

He positions his cock at your entrance, humming as he pushes down on your back, making you arch more.

Your face was pressed against his backseat, as he pushed himself inside of you. “Fuck — you feel so good” he murmurs as his grip on your hips tighten.

He began pounding away at that cunt of yours, making himself pussy drunk. He was pounding away as he gripped your hips harder.

His hair clinging to his forehead as he threw his head back. He just kept pounding, not letting either of you cum, he wanted to savor this moment.

Fucking the cute girl of his dreams? Complete! He just finished his bucket list, but he knows he’ll have to make another just to fuck you again.

“Cho—so! Cu—mming!” You managed to scream out, something that wasn’t just his name, or stupid moans about how good his dick was.

His grip on your hips tightened up, as he pressed his chest against your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “cum for me then.”

He murmured as you listened and finally came on his dick. He soon followed after you as you came. “Good girl”

He pulled back and took the condom off.(don’t ask me when he put it on..) He threw it in the trash can he had in his car and pulled you up.

“I should drive you home pretty. You plan to come to my next race right ?” He questioned as he got back in the front seat after cleaning you up and throwing the rag away.

You nod simply as you lay in his backseat, he hums as he looks through his mirror and drives you back home.

You thank him for the drive and walk off, to climb back into your window, it was 2 in the morning currently and your parents were still asleep.

Or should have been. They weren’t, they were having the night of their lives like you just did!

You yawn as you change and fall right onto your bed, a piece of paper flying out of your pocket. It was his number!

I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH WHAT AND I’M SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO DO IT

[kawoala]

DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. street racer au.

“it doesn’t matter if you win by an inch or a mile; winnings winning.” dominic toretto, the fast and the furious.

𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 you applied to college with hopes of escaping your boring life. you never actually thought you’d be accepted, yet, here you are, sitting on the twin mattress in your very small, shared dorm. unexpectedly, a note slips under your door. you and your dormmate share a confused, intrigued look, then pick it up and read it. ‘T-20. be there at 10 or don’t come at all pussies’ with an obviously unfamiliar address on the bottom. well, you moved here to be less boring, didn’t you?

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 meeya, as in me, the author, does not know anything about cars or street racing. do not be surprised when things are at least a little bit inaccurate / heavily based on the fast & furious franchise / alcohol + drug consumption / violence (?) / obviously illegal street racing / profanity / more specific tags will be added at the beginning of each chapter.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 chapter one ; wc ; (1,221) chapter two ; wc ; (2,097) chapter three ; wc ; (757) chapter four ; wc ; (1,033) chapter five ; wc ; (1,441) chapter six ; wc ; (smau) chapter seven ; wc ; (596) chapter eight ; wc ; (smau/446) chapter nine ; wc ; (1,681) chapter ten ; wc ; (866)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐒 y/n l/n ; a sweet voice, freshly-baked cinnamon rolls, trying desperately to be a selfless person, forgotten cups of tea, strawberries, shy smiles, always carrying multiple hairties just in case, messy hair, a little lonely. rintarou suna ; tattoos snaking down an arm, piercings done in sketchy basements, untold stories told through prolonged looks, cigarettes smoked down to the butts, driving one-handed, staying up and sleeping in late.

SPECIAL TAG TO @massacremars FOR BEING SO GENEROUS AND HELPING ME WITH THE SONGS LINKED TO EACH CHAPTER!!

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; open (25/50) !!

@sahrii , @cherrysurf , @heartmaddie , @jpegarchives , @vertejay

@tiramizuloz , @gumims , @mybelovedvi , @chaotic-neutral-ig , @usbrous

@iheartamora , @iluv-ace , @xavlyzn , @reocidal , @mysticstrawberryballoon

@h0n3y-l3m0n05 , @aethersluvrr , @smiithys , @rriwyu , @twiishaa

@kissunday , @ilovejeansosomuch , @anqelkoz , @yiooobb37 , @renardiererin

@pookalicious-hq , @sunnyskiezzzz , @sharkissm , @wyrcan

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐏 & 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄¹

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬, a vibrant tapestry of lights and traffic that never quite reached campus grounds. Night had cast its cloak over the college campus, leaving the place enveloped in an ephemeral darkness.

As the last rays of the sun surrendered to the velvet canvas of twilight, the students prepared to break their routines. The classrooms emptied, leaving behind echoes of muffled conversations and the occasional laughter. The campus roads were lined with cars as students began packing up their belongings.

As I made my way to my car, my voice laced with exhaustion, I clutched the phone tightly to my ear, my eyes searching for my vehicle in the dimly lit parking lot.

“What’s wrong with it now?” I asked, a hint of impatience coloring my voice.

The person on the other end of the line let out a deep sigh. “It’s the engine again. Another problem, same as last time,” they reported. I felt my shoulders slump in defeat. “Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. The engine problems were becoming a recurring nightmare. It was like the universe had it out for me. I leaned against the car, the frustration seeping into my bones.

The person on the other end of the line could sense my exhaustion. “You sound beat, Y/N. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I replied, brushing off any signs of worry. “Just the usual finals stress. Haven’t been getting much sleep since I’ve been too busy working on the car.” The person on the other end of the line let out a reassuring hum, their voice carrying a hint of concern. “Maybe you should scale back on the mechanic stuff for a bit, Y/N. You need to rest too, you know.”

I reassured the person on the line, “I’ll be alright. Don't worry about me,” with a hint of determination in my voice. With my keys in hand and my bag slung over my shoulder, I climbed into my car, the engine purring to life. As the conversation continued, I announced, “I’ll swing by your place to check your engine before I head home.”

There was a brief silence on their end before a reluctant sigh sounded through the receiver. “Fine, but don’t wear yourself out.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there,” I assured, my voice filled with determination. With a final farewell, I ended the call and tossed my backpack onto the passenger seat, my fingers closing around the steering wheel. Taking one last look at my car, I revved the engine and pulled out of the driveway, my mind set on reaching my destination.

The streets were relatively quiet, the city's pulse slowly calming as the early morning hours approached. I navigated through the streets with ease, a sense of purpose fueling my every move.

The drive was mostly quiet, the only sounds filling the space my soft breaths and a faint hum of the engine. I maneuvered the wheel, my mind lost in a storm of thoughts and emotions. The closer I got to my destination, the more my heart thudded in my chest, a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

Finally, I pulled up to a modest house, the streetlights casting long shadows across the lawn. I put the car in park, killed the engine, and took a deep breath, gathering my composure before stepping out into the cool night air.

As I stepped into the well-lit garage, I first noticed a guy perched on the hood of his car, his attention fixed on his phone. The soft glow of the screen lit up his face, casting a soft glow against his features.

His head jerked up as the sound of my footsteps echoed in the garage, and he looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine. A hint of recognition flickered in his gaze before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Finally, you’re here,” he said, his voice laced with a mixture of relief and curiosity. He slipped his phone into his pocket, his full attention now on me. I returned his smile with a nod, my eyes taking in the garage around me.

“Yeah, sorry I took a while,” I replied, my voice betraying the casualness I was trying to project. I set my bag down on a nearby workbench before approaching his car, my gaze drawn to the car he had.

As I approached, the car he was sitting on came into full view. It was a beautiful dark blue Nissan Skyline R34, its sleek lines and smooth paint job a sight to behold. My steps faltered for a second, a small pang of jealousy stirring within me. It was a gorgeous car.

He sensed my admiration and slipped off the hood, giving me space to open the hood. I took a deep breath before reaching for the hood latch, the metal creaking softly as it unlocked, letting the hood pop open.

The engine lay bare before me, a tangle of metal and cables. I scanned it with a professional eye, mentally cataloging any signs of wear and tear. The air between us grew tense with anticipation as I began to poke around, my fingers exploring the intricate parts.

“When did you start having problems?” I asked, my voice steady despite the racing of my heart.

He leaned against the car, his arms crossed over his chest, and watched me with a mix of curiosity and something unreadable. “It started sputtering last week.” he admitted, “And there’s been a weird noise coming from the engine. I can’t quite figure out what it is.”

My hands moved deftly, feeling along the engine, checking for anything out of place. As I worked, I couldn’t help but wonder aloud, “Did you perchance race last week? Maybe took a sharp turn or so?”

He pushed off the car and came to stand closer, watching me with a frown. “Yeah, actually. How did you know?”

I continued to work, my fingers tracing the lines and cables of the engine. As I moved around, I finally spotted the problem.

“Found the issue,” I said, my voice steady. “Looks like one of your spark plugs is misfiring. It’s probably from the sharp turn during the race. I’ll just need to replace it, and that should fix the problem.”

He let out a low whistle, his gaze fixed on the engine. “Damn, it’s that serious?” he muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, a hint of concern flitting across his face. “How long will it take to fix?”

I took a step back, wiping the grease off my hands on a rag lying on the workbench. “Shouldn’t take too long,” I assured him. “I can have it done in a few hours. Got a spare part with me that I can replace it with.”

He visibly relaxed, a sigh of relief escaping him. “Good, good,” he nodded, his shoulders losing some of the tension. He glanced at me, his expression thoughtful. “You know your stuff, huh?”

I moved away from the engine and headed back to my bag at the workbench. “Well, my dad taught me most about cars,” I answered, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips at the mention of him. “I guess I just picked up a lot from him over the years.”

I rummaged through my bag, a frown of confusion marring my expression as I didn’t find the spare part where I remembered putting it. “Damn, I thought I had it in here,” I muttered, a hint of irritation in my voice.

He watched me from a distance, his eyes curiously following my every move. “Problem?” he asked, sensing my frustration.

I shook my head, pushing the annoyance aside. “No, just misplacing things,” I replied. “I’ll just check the trunk. I keep spare parts there as well.”

As I headed towards the trunk, he followed, his steps falling in line with mine. He leaned against the side of the car, his gaze fixed on me, his curiosity seemingly growing.

I popped the trunk, the lid rising with a soft click, revealing a well-organized stash of spare parts. A wave of relief washed over me, and I quickly rummaged through the selection until I found the part I was looking for. With a satisfied exhale, I closed the trunk and turned back to him, holding up the part in triumph.

I returned to the garage, the spare part clutched in my hand. With a purposeful stride, I moved toward his car, the engine lying open, ready to be worked on. He stood watching me, his arms still folded across his chest, a mixture of curiosity and admiration visible on his face.

I set the part on the workbench and grabbed my tools. Returning to the engine, I began the process of replacing the misfiring spark plug. My hands moved with practiced ease, the task as familiar to me as breathing.

The garage filled with the sound of soft, metallic clinks and the occasional muttered curse as I fumbled with a particularly stubborn screw. The work consumed my attention, and I was almost entirely focused on the engine, completely forgetting about his presence for a few moments.

His voice broke through my concentration, and I jumped in surprise, the suddenness of his words making me realize I hadn't been paying attention. I looked over at him, my heart still racing, and he chuckled softly at the reaction, before saying, “I’ll be right back. Gotta grab something.”

As he turned to leave, I spoke up, my voice a little shaky, “Can you hand me your keys?” I requested.

He paused, his hand on the garage door handle, and looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. “My keys? What for?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I shifted my gaze back to the engine, feeling a flicker of annoyance at his questioning. “I need them to check for that weird noise you mentioned,” I explained, my tone matter-of-fact. “Keys, please.”

He regarded me for a moment, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, before digging into his pocket and tossing the keys over to me.

I caught the keys with a swift motion, my mind already back on the engine. The absence of his eyes on me allowed me to focus completely on the task at hand. He lingered for a moment longer, watching me from a distance before disappearing through the door, leaving me alone with the engine and my thoughts.

With the keys in my possession, I went back to work, my hands moving swiftly and efficiently through the engine. The process was soothing, a familiar routine that allowed my mind to clear. I worked in silence, the mechanics of the engine becoming my world for what felt like a few minutes but was probably much longer.

With the keys in my possession, I went back to work, my hands moving swiftly and efficiently through the engine. The process was soothing, a familiar routine that allowed my mind to clear. I worked in silence, the mechanics of the engine becoming my world for what felt like a few minutes but was probably much longer.

I finished the last adjustments to the engine, a sense of satisfaction coursing through me. Brushing my grease-stained hands on a rag, I moved quickly to the driver’s side of the car, keys still in my hand.

I slid into the driver’s seat, the leather shifting softly under me. Putting the keys in the ignition, I paused for a moment, my ears straining for any unusual sounds coming from the engine.

I started the engine, allowing it to idle for a moment. No unusual noises emerged, only the steady purr of the engine. I killed the engine, a wave of satisfaction washing over me. Everything seemed to be in order.

I got out of the car, closing the door behind me. I returned to the engine, my mind running checks and tests to ensure I hadn’t missed anything. A quick double-check wouldn’t hurt, just to make sure I had done everything correctly.

As I leaned over the engine, my attention fixed on the parts and cables, I heard a soft click from somewhere in the garage. My mind registered it but didn’t fully process it, too engrossed in my work.

I pulled back, satisfied with the double-check, and spoke aloud, my voice confident, “Looks like it’s working just fine now, Matt.”

I pulled back from the engine, my eyes naturally seeking the person who I had assumed to be Matt. But as I looked, my eyes widened in surprise.

The person standing there looked eerily similar to Matt, but a few details were off. Instead of Matt’s short hair, this guy’s was slightly longer, covering his ears a bit more than Matt’s hair and his jawline was a bit sharper than Matt’s.

I frowned, confusion and curiosity mixing on my face. “Oh. You’re not Matt,” I muttered, my voice betraying my surprise.

As he stood there silently, his eyes raking over me, a shiver ran down my spine. I shifted uncomfortably, unused to being scrutinized in such a way.

I cleared my throat and asked, my voice more confident than I felt, “Umm, do you know where Matt is?”

As if on cue, Matt appeared from a door behind the mysterious guy, his voice stern yet weary. “Leave her alone, Chris, go back inside dude,” he commanded, a hint of irritation in his tone.

The guy, now known as Chris, finally looked away from me, his gaze returning to Matt. He smirked and leaned nonchalantly against the workbench.

Chris smirked, his eyes flickering over me once more before replying to Matt, “Relax, I wasn’t going to do anything.”

Matt rolled his eyes, a weary expression on his face, before he walked over to where I stood, his attention fixed on me. His gaze softened as he spoke, “Knowing your ass you would’ve tried to make her sleep with you.”

He shot a look towards Chris before turning back to me, his voice gentler. “Don’t mind him,” he added.

My gaze flickered between Matt and Chris, the similarities between the two more obvious now that they were side by side.

“So,” I drawled, my eyes tracing their features. “There’s two of you?” Chris snickered, a sly grin on his face, while Matt shot him another annoyed look.

Chris chuckled, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “There’s actually three of us,” he explained, gesturing at Matt and then himself. “He’s the oldest, Matt’s the middle child, and I’m the youngest.”

I blinked, my mind trying to wrap around this new information. Three of them? Identical triplets? It was a lot to take in.

I redirected my attention to Matt, a hint of disbelief in my voice, “You’re a triplet? And you didn’t tell me for the three years we’ve known each other?”

Matt shrugged, sheepishness written across his face. “It just never came up, I guess,” he replied, avoiding my gaze. Chris snickered, clearly enjoying the interaction.

Matt shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I know you're upset,” he began, his voice apologetic. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

I shook my head, a small laugh escaping me. “Why would I be upset?” I responded, a hint of playfulness in my voice. “It’s cool to know you’re a triplet. Just kinda wish I knew sooner.”

I gestured at Matt, a playful smile on my face, “You do realize I just called him ‘Matt’ and thought it was you?” I pointed out, my eyes flicking between the two triplets. “I got quite confused, wondering how your hair grew after a few minutes of being gone.”

Chris laughed, clearly enjoying the situation, while Matt shook his head, a slight blush creeping up his neck.

He cleared his throat, his shoulders hunching a bit in embarrassment. “Yeah, I know,” he mumbled, his eyes avoiding mine. “It’s... it’s confusing for everyone.”

Chris, still leaning against the workbench, smirked. “We get that all the time,” he chipped in, a sly tone to his voice. “Everyone gets us mixed up. Can’t blame you though.”

I directed my gaze towards Chris, a question in my eyes. “If you’re Chris, and you’re Matt, who’s the other?”

Before Matt could answer, Chris cut in with a smirk, “Nick, he’s the older triplet.” Matt shot Chris an annoyed look, clearly not happy that his brother was disclosing information before he could.

I nodded, absorbing the new information. Three identical triplets. It was certainly something I had never encountered before. Chris chuckled, amused at my surprise.

“You should see how confused people get when they meet us,” he said, his voice tinged with mischief. “It’s quite entertaining.”

Matt shot him another look. “Shut up, Chris,” he muttered, his tone more amused than irritated. “What?” Chris protested, his smirk widening. “It’s true, man.”

As they continued bantering, arguing like siblings often do, my ears picked up the faint sound of my phone buzzing, coming from my bag near the workbench.

I moved over to the bag, rummaging inside and fishing out my phone. It was a message from my friend.

As I read the message, my eyes widened in realization. The reminder about the essay due today sent a jolt of panic through me. I grabbed the phone and quickly stuffed the phone back into my bag.

Chris, who had been leaning on the workbench, caught the change in my demeanor. He raised an eyebrow as I began packing my tools up. “Everything okay?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

I paused, turning to him for a moment. “Yeah, I just... I completely forgot I had an essay due today,” I explained, the urgency in my voice noticeable. “I have to get going.”

Matt's voice called out just as I was about to get into my car. “Let me pay you for fixing the—” he offered, but I cut him off, shaking my head. “No need,” I repeated, “I’ll see you guys around.”

As I was getting into the car, Chris suddenly cut in with a flirty grin, “See you around, darling.” He earned a swift smack to the head from Matt.

My cheeks heated up at Chris’s cheeky remark, but I tried to play it off with a scoff. I ducked into the car, hearing Chris’s laughter and Matt’s muttered curses.

“Don’t mind him,” Matt’s voice called out apologetically. “He doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”

I pulled out of the driveway, still trying to ignore Chris’s comment from earlier. My mind was now fully on the essay assignment that I had forgotten about, and the race against time to get it done before the deadline.

The drive home was a blur as I mentally organized my thoughts and planned out how to approach the essay.

A/N: MY FIRST SERIES FINALLY OUT FOR THE NEW YEAR! HOPE YALL ENJOY IT & YES THIS IS A REMAKE OF MY OTHER STREET RACING STORY ON @cyberl6ve

THANK YOU FOR 1K!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!! 🧡🥹

TAGS: @st6rify ✮⋆˙ @jetaimevous ✮⋆˙ @certifiedstarrr ✮⋆˙ @slvtf0rchr1s ✮⋆˙ @l3sbiancvnt ✮⋆˙ @wh0remikasas ✮⋆˙ @r0s3luvr. ✮⋆˙ @emely9274 ✮⋆˙ @mimiluvzpicklez ✮⋆˙ @courta13

── .✦ MASTER—LIST ⭑𓂃 | ── SERIES HERE ໑‧₊˚.ꪆ

[cars-are-life]

[chososcutie]

“Wanna Go for a Ride?”

featuring satoru gojo ‧₊˚ 𓏲 ˚ʚ ₊✧ ﾟ

‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶

art credit: @aransmind

‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶┈‧₊˚ ┈\ō͡≡o˞̶

OMG THANK YOU GUYS FOR 200 FOLLOWERS THOS IS CRAZYY (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)ilyyyy

tags: street racer gojo, oral (fem), unprotected sex, unsafe sex, dirty talk, petnames, swearing, slight exhibitionism if you squint, riding, you get eaten out his windoww, etc etc

word count: roughly 3k

also guys if u wanna request jjk, id be happy to! catching up on reqs rn, so just bear w me if they're late TᴗT

.˚₊‧˗ˏˋ ─── 🏎️༄ ׂ 𓈒 🏁⋆ ۪ ─── ˎˊ˗‧₊˚. ─── 🏎️

you had attended many races over the course of a successful flag girl career, so of course you had heard of the infamous satoru gojo.

you just never had the pleasure of flagging at one of his races.

until today.

it had started like any other day, you dressed in a skimpy checkered-flag two piece, leaving practically nothing to the imagination as you prepared to start off the race, holding up a black and white racing flag, the metal rod cool in your palms.

steadily, all the thrumming engines lined up next to you, cars of all kinds purring in unison.

by now you were used to the deafening noise, so you didn't pay too much mind when the particular roar of an engine sounded above the rest.

it was only until you looked over your shoulder to check for the signal, that you saw it.

the notorious baby-blue mclaren 720s gt3 that had every girl in the world swooning. and behind it, the cocky white-haired man at the wheel, manspreading across the leather seats, an overconfident grin on his face, with his matching blue helmet slightly tilted up.

his gloved fingers grip tightly around his of course bedazzled wheel, and you see his eyes flick to you, smirk spreading wider.

flushing slightly, you turn back, beginning to sway the flag around, signifying that the race was about to start.

thick smoke plumes out of various flashy tailpipes, and surrounds you in its fumes, as everyone revs their engines, loud roars and vibrations thrumming through your chest.

finally, you raise your arm in a final up-down motion, your full breasts bouncing, and the cars take off.

the moment however, seems to slow, becoming more intimate as gojo's car accelerates past you, your heart thumping as it nearly brushes you, the caress of the smoke following behind him on your body almost sensual. his head turns back to wink at you, and then he's gone, fumes kicking up behind him.

you stare after him as all the cars quickly whiz ahead, the thousands of fans in the crowd cheering loudly and waving signs for countless racers, but you knew, almost without a doubt, that gojo was going to win.

you knew it by the way he had this self-assured, confident air about him, like he had never lost a race in his life, which he probably hadn't. you knew it by the way he looked almost bored waiting for the race to start, only entertained by the sight of you before him. you knew it by the way he only had one lazy hand on the wheel, like this was tedious for him.

and as you wait for the cars to come back, so you can wave the flag at the winner, you find your thoughts wandering to what you had heard about the racer called satoru.

just who exactly was he, anyway?

your other flag girlfriends had always giggled about his looks and charm, claiming he had hooked up with them on various occasions where they had been flagging a race, and now that you had seen how flirtatious he was, you didn't think they were making it up.

satoru was, to put in short, a notorious playboy, known for his attractiveness and ability to go through women as fast as he finishes races, which was fast.

the cheering of the crowd increasing breaks you out of your thoughts, glancing up to see a familiar blue car in the distance, seconds away from crossing the finish line.

of course.

as his car whizzes past you at breakneck speeds, you wave the flag, signifying the end of the race, and the crowd goes wild.

screaming and shouts of praises ensue as he skids to a stop, the other cars far behind. it wasn't even close.

you stretch slightly, dropping your flag back to your side as the crowd slowly begins to disperse among themselves, the race officially over. and it's then that you hear a certain voice behind you, along with the tell-tale humming vibration of a car.

"hey, ya wanna go for a ride, pretty thing?"

you turn, to see none other than satoru gojo in all his glory, helmet cracked open to reveal glossy blue puppy eyes, and slightly mussed-up white hair.

you fold your arms slightly, flag draping down beside you. "you really do think you can get any girl you want, huh?"

he chuckles, the sound low and seductive. "oh sweetheart. i don't think. i know."

you roll your eyes, coming up to lean by his rolled-down window, face inches from his. "you're just so sure of yourself, aren't ya?"

he tilts his head mockingly. "so what if I am?"

you sigh, deciding no matter how attractive he was, this insufferable man isn’t worth it, and turn back around to leave, making it about two steps before his car pulls up in front of you again, effectively blocking you.

"c'monnn, jus' one ride? pretty please?"

you look him over with resignation, knowing he wasn't going to leave until you relented. "fine. one. only because you won."

he grins triumphantly, leaning over to open the door for you, immediately being greeted by the scent of his rich, masculine cologne overpowering your senses as you seat yourself on his over-the-top, plushy leather seats that still had a brand-new sheen to them.

the radio blares loudly some trashy bubblegum pop song that had been trending while he shifts his gear stick back, putting an arm around your headrest as he reverses.

slick.

you can't help but admire the interior of his car though, marveling at how tricked out he had made it with almost every empty square inch bedazzled in glimmering rhinestones. he even has a mini nascar racing flag hanging by the rearview window, the luxury of it all causing you to stare around, taking it all in.

he smirks, not taking his eyes off the road as he maneuvers you two to the racing highway, the low hum of his engine reverberating through you. "like what you see?"

you swallow, admittedly not completely unfazed by the presence of one of the most famous street racers in the world next to you as you nervously place your hands over your lap.

he speeds up, legs spreading wider as he glances over at you playfully. “i asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“i-it’s nice.. you've got a nice ride..” you admit, shifting in your seat as you watch the speedometer continue to climb.

“gonna show ya how nice it really is, hm?” he grins, and you feel your pulse increasing with how fast he’s going now, well over a hundred miles per hour, and how you don’t think you’re talking about his car anymore.

no. not with the way he was man spreading so wide, to the point where it’d be impossible not to notice the huge bulge straining against his racing pants.

he was hard.

impossibly so, so much that it looked like it hurt.

in fact, if you looked hard enough, you could see the clear outline of his bulbous tip and veins running along his girth. jesus. did he always drive around this obscenely bricked?

you don’t even realize how long you’ve been staring, practically mapping out his cock in your head, until he speaks, jolting you out of your lewd fantasies.

“naughty girl. s’ this the ride you were talking 'bout?”

your cheeks faintly tinge pink at being caught as you immediately look away, out the window, just to see that the car had gained even more speed in the time you were distracted. "n-no.."

before you realize, one of satoru's warm palms is gliding up your thigh, long fingers spreading to grip onto you tightly.

"no..?"

you gasp softly as his fingers rise higher, to ghost over your inner thighs lightly, so close to the place you needed him most.

and oh you can't help the pathetic whimper that escapes as his fingers trail up and down across your barely clothed slit, through your tiny checkered shorts, a faint wet patch rapidly spreading from your slick.

he lets out a knowing chuckle at the feeling of how wet you were, a confirmation to his earlier question. "it's not polite to lie, baby.."

"well, it's not polite to drive around hard as a fucking rock." you huff back, his mouth instantly curving up in amusement.

"gonna do something 'bout it, flag girl?"

and oh do you, as in one fluid motion, you swing yourself over to face him, beginning to grind down across his lap as your hands come to lift his helmet off, immediately tangling your fingers into his snowy locks.

he moans in response, hips lifting to meet you as your pussy throbs desperately atop him, practically its own heartbeat at this point.

you quickly tug down his pants enough to reveal his leaking cock in all its splendor, thick but most impressively long, reaching almost midway up his stomach. gently, you run your hand along his velvety shaft, feeling veins throb under your touch as he comes to a perfect cupid's arrow at the top.

he groans at your touch, becoming more frantic by the minute as his deft fingers come to your shorts.

"toru.. they're n-not.. you can't.." you can't help a small huff of laughter as he struggles to get them off you.

they were meant to be tight-fitting spandex, and in themselves, were hard enough to wrestle off, even without the black fishnet tights you were wearing underneath.

but he's too frenzied by this point to stop and try and figure out a logical way to get them off. no, instead he practically drags the spandex off you, before ripping apart the tights until they're nothing but tattered strings on the floor.

"toru!" but before you can protest, he's pressing you firmly against his body, jostling you slightly as he continues steering, his foot pressing harder on the gas.

"jus'.. hah.. hafta have you right now.. hold on, sweetheart, s' gonna be a bumpy ride.." and with that, he impressively lifts all of you up with one hand to line up his cock before letting go, allowing you to sink down on all his inches with a small cry.

it's almost painful how big he is. stretching you out so deliciously, as you mewl and cling onto him tightly, pressing your face into his neck to breathe out soft moans of "toru.. toru.. mmnph toru!"

he groans at your cries of his name, and you're not even sure if he's aware of how hard he's pressing the foot pedal now, car revving so loudly.

as you begin to bounce atop him, your cunt squelching noisily with every thrust, more and more slick pools out of you, leaving the seat under you to glimmer with moisture. when he sees this, he lightly swats your ass, making your moans only grow pitchier.

"nasty girl. getting m' seats all messy."

"nghh 'toru!" you whine, barely able to speak as you feel him all the way in your stomach, bulge disappearing with every thrust, your breathing ragged.

meanwhile, gojo's gripping you tightly, head lolling back against the headrest as you ruthlessly grind your hips down onto him over and over, the wet plap! plap! plap! sounds filling the car.

looking over, you see the speedometer hit one sixty, though it doesn't even feel like it.

gojo reaches one hand down to messily thumb over your exposed clit, causing you to squeal and try to clamp your legs shut, but no match for gojo's strength as he easily spreads your legs wider than before, only increasing the rough pace he had set on your ravaged pussy.

"keep 'em open, pretty." he rasps, and looking over you see how dangerous this is, car speeding down the highway while he fucked you into oblivion.

the sound of skin against skin filled the air as your ass smacked loudly against his lap, shamelessly going faster as you felt yourself get closer.

"mm, shit baby. you ride me so.. hah.. good. might jus' put me outta a job."

your thighs convulse, shuddering as you try to keep up the pace, his curved inches proving to be too much for you to handle.

gojo noticing instantly, begins to lift you up and down with one hand, guiding you as he positions you at an even better angle.

"fuck... 'toru m'close!.. hah.. s-slower.."

he pouts at you mockingly. "slower..? i thought you could take it?"

you're struggling not to cum right there and then, but desperate to prove a point, you nod, half-delirious. "mhm! mhm! can.. hah.. t-take.."

it's when gojo thrusts your hips faster, moving you up and down him like a toy as he uses you, finger pressing harshly on your clit, that you can't hold back anymore.

you feel weighty pressure against your tummy steadily building and building, your jaw dropping open as you lose yourself in it, cunt clenching and rippling tightly around him.

and then white-hot overwhelms you, a slutty moan ripping out of your throat as your back arches, and tears begin sliding down your cheeks from sheer pleasure.

it takes you a moment to realize you're cumming, and even longer that you were squirting.

gushing a glistening stream all over his pretty car and even spraying over his lower abdominals.

he groans softly. "fuuuckk baby, did you jus'.."

he can't even finish his sentence as with a shudder, he's cumming too, dumping load after load into you raw, creamy white ribbons filling your insides up and dribbling down past your thighs.

slowly, as you come down from your high, you feel the car beginning to swerve as gojo loses himself in pleasure.

his foot presses harder against the pedal as his whole body jerks upward, and you squeal clutching tight to him as the car speeds down the highway.

"toru! toru you're going too fast!"

he lazily blinks open hazy, blue eyes to steady the wheel again with one hand, the other resting against your thigh. "oh c'monnn. you haven't even seen the top speed of this baby."

with that, he presses on the gas all the way.

immediately, you're plastered to him, as the car gets dangerously faster with every breath you take.

a hundred seventy.

a hundred eighty.

a hundred ninety.

two hundred.

you can barely breathe with how rapidly his car is swallowing the road, can't move, can't even think.

"stick your head out the window real quick?"

you stare at him.

no.

he couldn't mean...

but oh yes he did, with that insufferable little grin of his, eyes glinting mischievously, just daring you to.

and you were not one to back down from a challenge.

huffing, you stick your face out, only to be shoved practically halfway out by gojo, who immediately presses his face between your plush thighs, tongue flicking out to taste you.

"such a.. fuck.. mess, hafta clean you up,"

you gasp, the rushing of air from outside only heightening the sensations coursing through you.

"g-gojo who's.. ah.. driving?"

he chuckles into your cunt, sending vibrations into you as you mewl, trying to press yourself harder against him.

"s' okay, got one hand on the wheel.."

before you can find it in you to protest however, he drags his tongue languidly all across your still dripping cunt, cleaning you up as he drinks up every last drop of your honeyed slick.

shaking his head side to side, he eats you like a man starved, hot, wet muscle dipping in and out of your entrance and tracing over you gently.

"mmph.. t-toru.. g-gonna make me..." you throw your head back in ecstasy, back arching upward as you hang halfway out of his window, still racing down an incredibly busy highway, hands coming to grip tightly on either side of his tinted glass tightly.

"taste so sweet.." he mumbles, and you feel the car swerve sharply as he presses his face deeper into you, eager tongue lapping gently.

your hips buck up slightly as you drag your messy cunt all along his face, grinding in slow strokes until his nose bumps your clit with every upward motion.

your stomach coils with heat tightly, winding up further and further with every breath until the pressure is weighing on your chest.

when he takes your puffy bud into his mouth, throbbing with sensitivity and sucks, however, it's over as your thighs quiver around him and you cry out his name, coating his chin in your syrupy slick.

he hums in approval, lapping up every drop, his snowy hair brushing your inner thighs as he moves his head.

gojo finally draws back, satisfied as you practically pull him apart from your sensitive, throbbing cunt, strings of drool and your arousal webbing him to you still as he smiles drunkenly off your pussy, still watching you arched out the window.

"hey, should i compete the next race with you, the pretty flag girl, hanging out my window?"

[iimplicitt]

I WAS ALL OVER HER PT.2 — O.P.

pairings: oscar piastri x reader (romantic/platonic) | lando norris x reader (romantic)

part two of three, link to part one here

summary: lando and y/n relationship is on the rocks. y/n either makes the worst or best decision of her life. oscar is losing it and has a secret habit of street racing? (listen to empathy while he races).

warnings: pining, missed opportunities, cheating (mentioned), cheating towards the end, 18+ smut, jealous!oscar, toxic!lando, mirror sex, fingering + oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex sorta (stay safe), technically a HEA for oscar x yn? bumpy road to get there, though.

word count: 4.9k

dedicated to: @theonottsbxtch

authors note: this in no way speaks on my opinion of lando and what his personality may be like, i love him this is purely for the plot <3

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You stood in the doorway of Lando’s bedroom in his flat in Monaco, sighing as he went through your phone. His eyes scrunched and a scowl on his lips as he held up the phone for you to see. “Who the hell is that?”

Narrowing your eyes to look, it was another comment some stranger left underneath one of your posts, calling you beautiful. The issue, to Lando at least, was that the stranger was a guy. “I don’t know.”

Lando scoffed and pulled your phone back towards him. “Yeah well, he’s also in your DM’s.”

You tried not to roll your eyes, knowing that would only annoy him further. He was weirdly obsessed with any male attention you received, not that you ever entertained it but he always made it seem like you were the one doing something. “And how many girls are in your comments and your DM’s? It’s not like I ever reply, unlike you.”

It wouldn’t have bothered you otherwise, even with Oscar and all the girls reaching out to him it never bothered you, you knew that’s simply how it was with fame. But the fact Lando would actually reply to them made you uncomfortable. He didn’t seem to care as he waved you off again. “I’m just engaging with my fans, what excuse do you have?”

You baulked at him. “I don’t talk to them.”

“I’m sure you just deleted the chats.” He practically threw your phone at you before turning around to go back to his game.

You wished you could say this was the first and last time you had this conversation with him, but it was beginning to feel like a weekly occurrence. You didn’t understand, he even had the audacity to flirt with girls in front of you but would say he was just being friendly. And who were you to question him, anyway?

You felt lost, lonely. Thrown into the world of dating a celebrity who gave no reassurance and it was like everyone you cared about suddenly wasn’t available to talk anymore. Either because of time zones, work, et cetera. And Oscar… you had always felt like he was someone to lean on without feeling like a burden but even now he felt like a stranger.

Events were beyond awkward, he’d mutter a hello before practically running away from you. Anytime you tried to talk to him, there was an excuse to leave. Your daily texts came to a halt besides a Happy Birthday message and a bouquet of flowers that Lando had thrown away before you even had a chance to hold them.

You’d still sometimes catch him staring at you though, and it kept a little flame of hope alive in your heart that he didn’t hate you. That your friendship maybe was salvageable, it just needed time.

At a club following a relatively successful qualifying for McLaren one night, you had just walked away from the bar with a new drink and weaved between the crowd of people. You weren’t sure where Lando was, and part of you said you probably didn’t want to know. Worrying about all the what if’s was going to kill you. Taking a sip of your drink, you decided you wanted a bit of fresh air and moved towards the large balcony the club had. It was still crowded, but not nearly as much and you found a seat at an empty table.

You mostly people-watched for a while, letting the alcohol create a comforting blanket over your nerves when someone sat down across from you.

Oscar was looking at you, eyes a bit bloodshot and his hair a mess as he held a glass of what might’ve been whiskey. Your shock made you sit there stupidly for a moment and stare at him. Surprised he made the first move to initiate some sort of interaction, anxious to talk to him, angry he had been avoiding you, and mad at yourself for not trying harder to fix things.

“Hi.” He said, his voice a bit rough around the edges.

Apparently words were lost on you as you continued to stare at him.

He sighed, his breath shaking as he messed with his glass tumbler. “Are you happy?”

Pursing your lips, you finally pulled your eyes away from him to look at the city skyline. “You’re drunk.”

“You’re not answering.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Oscar.” Not when he was intoxicated, at least.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Please, I need to- are you happy?”

Dammit, your eyes began to water. Why was he always able to pull such reactions out of you so easily? “You don’t always have to try and save me, Oscar. I’m a grown woman.”

“The most remarkable people in the world still might want help sometimes.”

You looked away from him, biting at the inside of your cheek in a weak attempt to keep your breathing even and wiped a tear away. You missed him, you really did. And maybe this rift was your own doing. You knew you couldn’t blame yourself for Lando’s behaviour but sometimes it felt like everything would’ve been easier, better for Oscar, if you weren’t in the picture. If you had just stayed home and not agreed to come to that first race last season.

Standing up, you offered a tense smile. “I’ll see you at the race tomorrow.” And you walked away.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Oscar had never truly hated anyone before, but with each passing day he came dangerously close to yanking Lando by the collar of his shirt and punching him. The way his teammate so blatantly flirted with other girls while doing media events was beginning to lose its shock value on Oscar, but his anger just kept reaching a boiling point. Maybe he needed to be more level headed and mature about the whole situation, but knowing how much Lando was disrespecting you started to affect how Oscar raced. It wasn’t a hindrance by any means, but people were starting to notice how much more aggressive he was being on track.

A few days before a race weekend, teams were allowed to go out and walk the track to get a feel for it. Which was necessary on all accounts because the upcoming circuit had recently been resurfaced. Oscar had his hands in his pockets as he walked, paying close attention to the curves and the changes in elevation when a familiar waft of perfume caught his attention. It took him off guard, not expecting to find you out here but there you were, walking with Charles’ girlfriend Alex, who was taking their dog Leo for a stroll.

Your eyes immediately caught his, muttering something to Alex before heading in his direction.

He stood there like a deer caught in headlights as you approached, messing with your nails nervously the closer you got. Finally, stopping a few feet away you gave him a small smile. In an instant it was like all the ice that had built up over his heart the past few months began to melt.

“Walk with me?” You offered, extending an olive branch and he nodded, letting a small smile tug at his own lips as he began to walk again, you by his side.

It was quiet for a little while, the air a bit tense but nowhere near what it had been lately.

“I still don’t understand how you aren’t scared shitless when you get in those cars. The turns are so sharp and you come at them so quickly.” You muttered, gnawing at your lip and he couldn’t help but stare at the soft look of them before he forced himself to look away.

“Over time the fear goes away. There’s a thrill to it, I think. An adrenaline rush. Corners are the best part sometimes.” He offered, looking at you again only to find you already staring at him.

“Is that why you hold on to the door handle for dear life when I drive? For the thrill of it?” You joked and he found himself laughing, forgetting how easy it was.

“I think that’s my body going into fight or flight mode when you’re behind the wheel.”

You shoved him playfully, shaking your head with a grin on your face. The brief physical contact made his head spin and butterflies erupt in his stomach. He desperately wanted to touch you, hug you, something… he didn’t know. “I miss you. This.” The words were out before he could think more on it but he didn’t regret them either.

Coming to a stop in front of Oscar’s garage, you looked up at him and smiled softly. “Me too.”

Your eyes locked onto his, feeling like the world had stopped spinning and it was just the pair of you. Oscar didn’t have to think about anything else as you stood there in front of him. His best friend and the girl he knew had his heart. Slowly, he lifted his hand as your hair got tossed around by the breeze and he brushed it away from your eyes. Taking in the soft feel of your skin and an electric shock went from his fingertips and tore apart each of his nerves.

Pulling away, you turned to go meet your boyfriend and the world started to move again.

He flipped over in his hotel bed, one arm wrapped around your waist as the other found leverage on the mattress. Your soft and shaky breath sent shivers down his body, feeling your soft skin slide against his as he moved down the bed.

“Oscar,” you whimpered out, hands tugging at his hair as desperation began to control your movements. You were so beautiful, no matter where or how he saw you. But there was something akin to holiness as he looked at you spread out on his sheets beneath him. Naked and wanting. Wanting him.

“Relax for me, angel.” He pressed a kiss to your hip before moving down, licking a long stripe up your wet—

He shot up, sweat drenching his skin and a painful erection showing a tent in his sheets. Oscar groaned as reality caught up with him, pressing his palms into his eyes. “What is wrong with me?” He whispered to his empty hotel room, still wishing you could somehow be there next to him.

The sex dreams had always been a common occurrence the moment he realised he liked you. Years of built up sexual frustration and he always felt guilty about them afterward. You were his best friend yet every other night he fantasised about fucking you. The dreams never stopped, even when you were in a relationship. Even when he was in one.

His hands dropped as he stared out the window, depressed and frustrated. “I am awful,” he muttered. But Oscar knew he’d have one again. Part of him didn’t want them to stop, and he’d tell himself he could live with the guilt.

Later that day, maybe it was the lack of sleep or the constant pain of knowing you were with Lando, but when he caught his teammate slipping a girl his number he snapped.

Once they rounded a corner and no one was around, Oscar grabbed onto his shirt and slammed him into the wall, pinning him there with an arm against Lando’s chest. “You are such a joke.” He bit out.

Lando blinked at him in surprise before shaking away his shock, trying to shove Oscar off of him but the Aussie didn’t budge. “What is your problem, mate? Get the hell off me.”

“Does she know you’re out here messing around or do you like rubbing it in her face so blatantly?” Oscar was three seconds away from punching him before Lando shoved him more roughly, finally managing to break free from the wall.

He narrowed his eyes at Oscar before laughing, the sound of it dry and lacking all amusement. “Since when did you start giving a fuck about her again?”

Clenching just jaw, Oscar walked up to his teammate, his own eyes narrowed and his voice low. “Quit playing with her or I’ll run you off the damn track.” With that, he patted Lando’s shoulder once before walking away.

The Dutch Grand Prix was approaching and Oscar felt like he was losing it. You were everywhere. Plaguing his thoughts. In all his dreams. All he could think about. Him and Lando had hit a stand still in their working relationship and the friendship they had built came crumbling down when Oscar realised how much of an arse he truly was to you.

There was a small get together with a decent amount of the drivers and some friends at a townhouse Max had. The grill was now cool from the earlier barbecue and most of the crowd had moved inside as the night air grew chilled and rain was approaching.

Oscar felt suffocated inside the house, though. Everything was too bright and too close. You were everywhere yet nowhere at once and Lando was being a smug bastard, acting like a saint when he was really a devil in disguise. No matter how hard Oscar tried, he couldn’t stop looking at you. Wishing he was Lando and hating himself for it. Wishing he was the one who got to fall asleep next to you at night, knowing he could love you properly. Then Lando disappeared, and so did you and he felt his brain shatter into a million pieces. Knowing it wasn’t him made his chest physically hurt and he stumbled towards the back yard, not being able to breathe until the door was shut behind him and all the voices became muted.

He froze the moment he saw you laying in the grass, staring up at the moon.

“Hey,” you said, hearing his footsteps approach before he laid down next to you. The grass was damp from earlier rain but he didn’t care. You were there next to him, that’s all that mattered.

It was quiet for a while. The only noise was from the house and crickets, sometimes thunder from the distance. His mind was moving quickly, yet sluggishly, and still everything felt strangely clear all the sudden as he star gazed with you.

“Break up with him.”

You were silent, but he heard you take in a sharp breath before you whispered the next word. “What?”

“Break up with him.”

“Oscar—“

Turning to you and perching himself up by his elbow, he continued. “I know I waited too long. I know I didn’t communicate with you. I know I’m an arse for ignoring you. I’m sorry, I am, but— he is horrible to you. You’re not happy, I know you aren’t.”

You looked up at him, still laying down and the moonlight painted a heavenly sight before him as your brows furrowed. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“Why not? I know you don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you—“

You finally sat up, eyes narrowed. “And what? You do? All this time you’ve apparently loved me but would tell me you weren’t interested and would go off dating other girls. What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Oscar?”

He quickly stood up to follow you as you also got up and began to walk away from him.

“Why put yourself through hell for him?” He bit out.

“I have spent years putting myself through hell waiting for you! I can handle him.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle him!”

You whipped around to yell something at him when the back door suddenly opened and Logan stepped out, eyeing the scene wearily. “Am I interrupting something?”

Before Oscar could say anything, you bit out a “Nope,” and stormed past the two drivers, disappearing into the house.

Logan quietly shut the door and raised a brow at Oscar. “Trouble in paradise?”

Oscar fell heavily onto a porch chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Something like that.”

Looking at his friend for a moment, Logan sat down across from him. “You know,” he started, “I’ve known you two for a long time and you’ve always seemed to work something out.”

Sighing, Oscar leaned back in the chair and thought about the last few months. Thought about that fateful night a few years ago. Logan must’ve been thinking about it, too.

“I know how messy it was the first time and how much you beat yourself up over it, but it worked out didn't it?”

“Did it?” Oscar asked. “I feel like we just kept pushing off the inevitable and now it’s blown up in my face.”

“Look, I know it sucked but you did the right thing not getting into a relationship with her back then. That would’ve blown up in your face. But now, man, you have the world at your fingertips.” He paused for a moment and rubbed at his chin. “Why’d you invite her in the first place?”

Oscar frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“Come on. You never invited her to your old races. You knew how busy you’d be once you started in Formula One, you wanted her here.”

He shrugged. “I mean yeah, but—“

“And now Lando is in the way?”

Oscar sighed, “yeah.”

The long time friends looked at each other, not sure whether or not to mention they both knew Lando was cheating on you. Logan caught him with some girl in a hotel bar, Carlos yelled at him a few weeks ago when he caught him with someone, and the list went on.

Oscar had a feeling you knew as well, and he couldn’t wrap his head around why you wouldn’t just leave the bastard.

As if reading his thoughts, Logan spoke again. “She might feel trapped, you know? Despite even the worst circumstances, it’s hard to leave relationships sometimes.”

“When did you get wise?”

Logan laughed and shook his head, standing up to pat his friend on the shoulder. “I always have been. Now, you have two options. One, run after her and try to fix this no matter what or else you’re going to go through the rest of your life wondering what if you had tried harder. Or two, you try to let go of it. Let go of her, and move on.”

Oscar licked at his dry lips and looked down at his hands, noticing the calluses he got from racing. “I can’t forget about her.”

“Then get off your ass and go after her.”

Logan didn’t have to tell him again. He patted the American on the back in thanks and took off into the house, only you were nowhere to be seen.

He caught sight of Charles and pulled him to the side. “Have you seen her?”

His friend looked at him knowingly, the Monegasque had a weird sixth sense on reading people and on more than one occasion he had offered Oscar some friendly advice on the matter of a broken heart. “She left, mate. Not with Lando though, if that helps.”

It did, and if Oscar wasn’t in such a rush he would’ve hugged the man.

He muttered a thanks before grabbing his keys and running out the door. He wasn’t sure where she was, but the first place he would assume is the hotel the McLaren team was staying at.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You shivered as you walked, your anger at everything beginning to fizzle away. Adrenaline had kept you warm for the most part as you got deeper into the city but now that it was fading you grew a bit nervous. A woman walking alone at night was never the safest or smartest decision.

But you had been so pissed off at Lando and angry that Oscar had been right. Right about everything. Lando was bad news but you were so desperate for attention you let a man start to slowly pick at you in ways he knew would make you crumble. He knew all your insecurities and would point them out to make a statement or if he got bored.

If you would’ve just been smart and waited a bit longer you could’ve been happy with Oscar. But… you had waited for years and you were tired. You knew it wasn’t your fault that he didn’t communicate how he had actually felt about you. That still didn’t solve any of the raging emotions going off inside you.

You heard a car approaching and kept your head down, hoping they would shoot past you. Much to your horror, the car with a strong sounding engine began to slow down. The deep rumble from it made your bones tremble, or maybe that was your fear.

Then a window rolled down and a familiar voice called out. “Get in the car.”

You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were being irrational, surely. But you kept walking, “go away.”

The car halted to a stop, a door opening and slamming shut and not a moment later Oscar was standing in front of you. Angry. “Get in the fucking car.”

You blinked at him. You knew he swore during races but hardly ever at you. You were about to argue with him, being fueled by pure stubbornness at this point when there was a loud crack of lightning and it began to rain.

“Fine,” you bit out, getting into the expensive car and at that moment you didn’t care if your wet clothes ruined the leather. Oscar didn’t seem to care either as he slammed his door shut.

He started driving once you buckled and you wanted to roll your eyes. He was clearly pissed at you, though you couldn’t fathom why. It wasn’t like you did anything to him. What made it clear he was mad was the increasing speed of the car. He was always careful, always put together. Besides when racing, you weren’t sure you had ever actually seen him speed before.

Although you trusted him with your life, your mouth felt dry as you went around a wide corner, your body being pushed to the side by the force of it. “Oscar—“

“What the hell is wrong with you? Walking out here alone at night in a country you’ve never been in?”

“We both know that’s not why you’re mad right now.”

Oscar laughed, the sound rough on your ears as he whipped around another turn, the tyres losing a bit of traction from the rain but he manoeuvred into a drift and easily corrected the car with a complicated turning of the wheel and doing lord knows what with the gear shift.

This was absolutely not the time to be thinking such things but you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he looked breaking who knows how many traffic laws. Your thoughts only annoyed you though, not understanding why you had to like him. Not understanding why you let yourself get into the current position you were now in. Not understanding why you let Lando treat you like shit.

“So your driving isn’t any better off the track, either.” The cruel words slipped out on their own accord. You didn’t mean it. Maybe it was Lando rubbing off on you, maybe you were just making excuses.

Oscar didn’t say anything, his knuckles turned white on the steering and sped up, going well over the speed limit now and drifting, the back of the car swinging much too close to poles and buildings. It was reckless yet controlled all at once. Maybe this was his outlet. He wasn’t a big drinker, obviously didn’t dabble in drugs, he wasn’t violent, and a Formula One car was worth millions of dollars and too risky to take frustrations out on. Maybe he did this often, maybe that’s why he did it with expert precision as he raced through the streets of Zandvoort.

You didn’t know why, but when police sirens and flashing lights started to follow the car, you laughed. It was strangely liberating, watching Oscar let go of everything for once and for you to let go of fear.

Your eyes met his, red and blue lights gleaming off them and you two shared a smile before he raced off, evading law enforcement with a surprising ease and you wondered what other surprises Oscar still had in store for you after all these years.

He pulled into a dark alleyway between two buildings, quickly shutting the car off and turning out the lights. He lightly placed a hand on your back and pushed you down so you both weren’t in view from the back window. A few seconds later the police whipped by, neither of you moved till the sirens faded.

You were quiet for a minute, the only sound was your heavy breathing mixed with Oscar’s and you could just barely catch the gleam of his eyes in the dark as he looked at you. Sitting up, you messed with the hem of your shirt, a cold wave of reality hitting you. This felt like some sort of event horizon. Whatever happened in this car would determine if and how he’ll be in your life.

“Oscar,” you started quietly. He sat up as well, looking at you in the dark and hummed, patient. “Please tell me this all isn’t because I’m now something you feel like you can’t have.” The words were out, one of your biggest fears. Insecurities. Terrified he was only interested because suddenly you weren’t an option anymore. An option he’d always had.

“Angel, there was never anyone else.” His voice was so quiet you barely heard him, or maybe your heart was beating too loudly over his words. “I’m done for.”

You sucked in a breath, forgetting how to breathe as you looked at him. Your best friend. The man you’ve been in love with for years. The way he was looking at you, it wasn’t any different than how he usually did. You had just apparently been naïve to the sheer desperation in it.

“Oscar—“

His lips crashed against yours, your back hitting the door and his hands cupped your face, holding him to you.

You froze, only for a moment as your stomach dropped from the surprise. Then it came rushing back up to you and your fingers buried themselves in his hair, kissing him back with such ferocity you weren’t aware you were capable of.

One of his hands held the nape of your neck while his other hand quickly undid your seat belt, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He was so warm, soft yet rough at the same time and he tasted like heaven. As his tongue slid past your lips, dancing against yours you let out a moan that had him trembling against you.

Years. You had waited years to kiss him. You’ve dreamt about it. God, you even cried about it a couple of times. The pure longing you had been harbouring all this time had reached criticality and now you were just about to explode. His hands were all over you, exploring every inch as if he was a crazed man who found the holy grail and couldn’t quite believe it.

His tongue explored the inside of your mouth, hot and wet and he was practically breathing you in. Your nails raked through his hair, wanting so much more it felt maddening.

His teeth tugged at your bottom lip as he pulled away, his eyes heavy lidded and before you could utter a complaint his mouth latched onto your neck, just below your jaw. The sound that left your mouth was embarrassing but he seemed to love it, a moan leaving his mouth and vibrating through you as he left a wet trail of open mouth kisses down your throat, sucking and biting as he went.

You tugged on his hair, a whimper leaving his mouth but it was swallowed up by your mouth as you kissed him again. With one hand snaking up underneath your shirt, his other hand grabbed your wrist and placed it on—

Your brain short circuited by how hard his cock was. Not only that, but you were touching him. There. You could faint.

“Angel, please.” It was practically a whine as he kept kissing you, his hips pushing up into your hand. As if the sounds leaving his mouth commanded you, you squeezed his erection through his pants.

Oscar shuddered violently, his head falling into the crook of your neck. “Fuck.”

“Oscar.” You sounded needy. You didn’t care. And for a whole list of fucked up reasons, you didn’t care that you had a boyfriend.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, f1, maxverstappen1 and 1,926,378 others

landonorris yup 🏆 more like it

*tap to load more comments*

userone: LESGOOOOO

usertwo: twowinssss

userthree: anyone notice how tense lando & oscar were?

| userfour: yea… and landos gf. super weird

| userfive: neither of them liked this either

usersix: y’all see those dm’s some girl leaked???

| userseven: YEAAA lando has been lurkinggg

| usereight: embarrassing honestly

usernine: y’all see that video of oscar drifting through the city? wild

| userten: I KNOWWW it was sick. didn’t know he was like that

| usereleven: who do you think the girl was in the passenger seat?

usertweleve: MORE DM’S GOT LEAKED

userthirteen: lando is quite literally for the streets

userfourteen: is this why oscar has been racing dirtier? his teammate fucks over his best friend? yikes

comments have been disabled

part three found here

[toydreamer]

Driving into 2025 with them retro 90s vibes

I've missed painting like this in the longest time, so heppi to return to trying this style again in the new year. Also very pleased with how Charon turned out! Had to get him out of my system before I nyoom off for a short trip (cus he's all I kept thinking about lmao) There's two more planned pieces for this AU, hopefully I get to complete them as I'm currently very busy with con prep /fingers crossed

[bakuettes]

Catch My Drift 🏁 chapter 1

Street racer!bakugo x Street racer!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cursing, douche bakugo, slight misogyny, alcohol consumption, drug use, illegal activities etc

Kanjozoku; The term Kanjozoku is derived from the combination of the words “kanjo” (meaning ring) and “zoku” (meaning group).

Kanjozoku primarily consists of young car enthusiasts in cities like Osaka and Tokyo who have a passion for speed and a desire to showcase their driving skills.

Osaka was the place to be. Not where tourists go to take pictures and try japanese cuisine, maybe pick up a few souvenirs from the large amount of little gift shops that littered the streets but where a community of young adults with the passion for racing congregate. The night was still young, the sounds of tires screeching against the cold pavement and engines roaring was heard over the heavy base of 2000s club music. Girls dressed in scandalous outfits mingling with the guys posted up next to their pimped out rides. You could practically feel the vibrations of the noise in your head.

Three cars lined up with the drivers sitting on the hoods of their prized possession. A bright orange 1993 Mazda RX-7 FD on the far left. The car’s color was comparable to an orange or maybe even the warm sunsets that would settle over japan. The next car over was a 1993 Toyota Supra Turbo Mark IV. The bright colorful lights that surrounded the meet reflected beautifully off the cars mustard yellow chrome. The third and final car was a looker. Silver 1999 Nissan Skyline GT-R R34 with royal blue detailing along the sides and on the hood. A royal blue flexivity rear wing with matching led lights underneath the body.

It was Bakugo’s baby. Spent years modifying and perfecting it. He was a skilled driver sure but having a car like his? Most would be intimidated to challenge him. “Yo Mina, let’s get this race going!” the orange mazda driver shouted. it was hard to find anyone in this crowd but said woman emerged from the sidelines with a confused look on her face. “Woah woah, wait a second.” She looked around the lot, once overing the lined up vehicles. “where’s your fourth at? i’m counting only three.” mina crossed her arms, unimpressed. the yellow toyota driver spoke up first “it was supposed to be joaquin but he caught the grave yard shift man.”

once you were scheduled to race it was a hassle to find new drivers, the time and place was set in stone. it wasnt that often when scheduled racers were a no show but then again many get caught racing outside of meets or their car needed more time to be repaired. It was a waste of mina’s time. she was the flag girl, not their fucking coordinator. “Na, y’all either find a fourth or you don’t race. How’s that sound? Times ticking boys.”

By standers erupted in shouts of anger and disappointment. they wanted to see a race, most of them drove well over an hour to be here! gas wasn’t cheap and neither was Minas time. Hearing the crowds complaining mina sighed and pitched them an idea. “Alright! i hear you guys, relax. How about this, why don’t i find y’all a driver and we settle this now?” bakugo smirked, nodding in agreement. he never said much but he also never needed to. his aura spoke volumes. “bring ‘em on.” he wasn’t nervous, he knew his talents and was confident. resting the palms of his hands on the hood of his car, he tilted his head towards the other racers, waiting to see hear their answers. “Anyone i want?” mina questioned with a grin that would give the cheshire cat a run for his money. “anybody baby!” orange jululis shouted, raising his arms to the side. cocky bastard. mina rolled her eyes and turned away from the drivers, pulling out her phone from her bra. there was a whole list of people she could call but there was only one person she knew who could end this race quickly.

she could hear the static from the other end of the phone. “y/n, you wanna race tonight?” it was quite for a moment before you spoke in to the speaker “i’m always down, send me your lo.” your voice was smooth like silk but sultry like a vixen. it sounded like you’ve been up for a while so mina didn’t feel bad for calling you so late. she knew you came alive in the night anyway. your energetic friend squealed before gathering herself together. “you got 5 minutes hun!” and then the line went dead.

it never took much convincing to get you out. when mina called you it was 12:15 am, meaning you only had exactly 5 minutes to get there. the meet lot was about 20 minutes out. you arrived there in 4, only a minute left to spare. the sound of you engine had heads turning (a certain blonde as well) as you slowly pulled through the crowd, careful not to hit party-goers. the hot pink body of your 2000 Honda S2000 was hard to miss. everyone knew who was inside and that fact alone made them scream louder. you never really cared too much though, it wasn’t like you had vocals like mariah carey. you didn’t have the ability to move like michael jackson. you were just a damn good racer and that was enough for them apparently.

all three racers turned their heads in the direction of the obnoxiously loud honda, tensing up at the sight. well, all except for one of course. bakugo had no idea why everyone was so fucking hyped. who was that? and why’s everyone acting like they’ve never seen a pink car?? “Racers!” mina yelled excitedly “here’s your fourth!”. your black stiletto boots were the first thing he saw exit the car. then it was a black leather hat. he glanced over at the others to study their reactions and they all had excitement swirling in their eyes. maybe even a hint of nervousness? bakugo didn’t have time to be sure because before he knew it, you were leaning back against the hood of your car crossing one leg over the other. “oh shit, it’s y/n.” you weren’t new to this, you were true to this. the air was crisp and cold, you probably should’ve brought a jacket because this top (if it could even be considered one) with this miniskirt wasn’t doing you no type of favors.

from the corner of your eye you could see a blonde headed man with spikey hair almost looking annoyed as he walked over to mina who was standing in the middle of the road. “no offense but i’m not racing a damn girl. you never said it would be a girl.” you rolled your eyes, who the hell does he think he is? a race is a race. why did it matter who was behind the wheel? you best friend looks beyond over this shit, she’s been annoyed her this whole night and she’s about to lose her patience. “you said anyone i wanted, i wanted her! stand next to your car before nobody races.”

“you scared spikes?” he turned his head to the side, watching you push yourself off the car and strut to the middle where he and mina stood. he sized you up, shamelessly checking you out. “what the hell did you jus call me?” he wasn’t scared. why would bakugo be scared of some princess nobody? “can you even drive with those heels on?” your outfit was impractical he thought. a miniskirt that just barely covered the expanse of your ass (not that he really minded) and what looks like a triangle bikini top. if you were to bend over then— no. now’s not the time to thirst over you. even if he did think you were hot.

“i’m just askin.. why wouldn’t you wanna race me if you weren’t scared?” you’ve dealt with his type before, cocky, thinks they’re better than everyone and so on. he’s got sharp red eyes with a piercing gaze. you let your eyes trail away from his face down to the hardened muscles on his chest. clearly well built and his black tshirt was doing nothing to hide it. “man whatever,” your eyes moved back to his hearing the sound of his voice. “i’m not doin this, find somebody else.” he wasn’t scared, he just felt that he could be using this time to race against someone on his level. why’s it that the egotistical men somehow always find you? you would’ve just let him go but you hated the feeling of being looked down on. he’s no better than you, he doesn’t even know what you have to offer. do you did what you do best, you uped the ante.

“15 grand.” you raised your voice a bit. silence fell over the crowd. “i’ll give you 15 grand if you agree to race tonight and win, that applies to the other racers too” you say to the other two drivers still next to their cars. that made him stop dead in his tracks. were you insane? you’re acting like that’s pocket money. fuck, he doesn’t know if he should do it. he didn’t need the money, but his sister did. he tries to help his mother out the best he can, this would cover at least two months worth of bills. gritting his teeth he turns around starting directly at you “don’t start to regret this when you lose ma.” got ‘em, you thought with shit eating smirk.

you walked past him, shoulder checking the man who’s name you still don’t know. he looked at you, staring at your ass as your skirt rode up with every step you took. you must’ve felt bakugo’s stare because your hands grab them hem of the denim and pull it down, throwing him a flirty smile over your shoulder. the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink. he quickly looks to the side, licking his lips attempting to play it off as if the whole meet did see the interaction. all the racers start getting into there respective cars, starting them up. mina struts to the middle of the street once again only this time with a checkered flag. her brown skin was glowing, the lights reflecting off the body glitter she wore.

“Racers!”

mina exudes confidence. you hand your left hand on the wheel, the other hand tightly gripping on to the gear shift. foot tapping on the gas a bit. you were high off adrenaline, you lived for moments like these.

“Start your engines..”

bakugo couldn’t help but stare at you. the look in your eyes. ‘s like you got off on this, the wicked smile on your lips doing nothing to make him think otherwise. he wasn’t fazed though, he had this in the bag. maybe even after he wins he could take you out but that was something he’d ask later, he needs to focus. the flag drops.

“GO!”.

and you were gone.

𝐀/𝐍!!: okay why was this way harder than i thought? 😭 please bare with me ik im not that advanced in writing. i also don’t know a lot about cars but i research by chapter. lmk how u like it so far and i promise to produce better work as time goes on!

[chericos]

SHUT UP AND DRIVE —> teaser 1

street racing au ; collab and promo for my darling, @rieamena “full throttle” series!! An Ino Takuma street racing smau.

this is kinda rushed and will most likely(definitely) be edited before the official release

“We shouldn’t be doing this,”

You pull back, eyes wide and lips bruised. His chest is flushed against yours, and you can feel it as it rises and falls to his sporadic breathing. His eyes are shaking until they lock in on yours. There's a mischievous glint in them as his lips pull into a smirk.

“I know.”

And then his lips are back on yours. He pushes you up against the wall as he explores every crevice of your mouth with his tongue. The cool metal of his tongue piercing rendered you useless in his arms.

Your arms slip up to circle around his neck, nails digging and tugging on the ends of his hair. A low groan reverberates in the back of his throat, as he slightly pulls back to catch his breath for a second.

then two, and three.

Before he's right back on you hungrier, and greedier than ever. One of his hands wraps around your waist, pulling you in impossibly close, as the other rests on your thigh. It's hot and messy, and the only thing on your mind is 'more'.

You feel Megumi smile into the kiss and you think you can get used to this, used to him, his voice, his touch, his presence.

all of him.

He leaves a peck at the corner of your lips, a small chuckle escaping his before he pulls back and turns to walk away. But he only gets as far as 3 steps before you're latching onto him, pulling on the collar of his shirt to reel him back in.

And you know you shouldn't be doing this, but you'd be dammed if you let him get away again.

waiter waiter! More tongue piercing megumi, please !! the piercings I had in mind while making this were based on nibeul's art, please check them out!

anyway, enjoy the scraps, I’ve been busy catching up in my anatomy lab so I’m not sure when anything will be posted but hopefully by this month!

@ CHERICOS 2024 all rights reserved do not repost, edit, copy, translate, or plagiarise my works

[starkeyssweetheart]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ introducing… fast&furious au

starring… daredevil!reader x detective!rafe

detective!rafe who is always committed to every case he works, going undercover often to arrest criminals. having wanted to be a cop since he was young, it’s always been his dream to be a good man and make the world a better place. of course, that all went out the window when he met daredevil!reader.

detective!rafe who didn’t think much of the girl when they first met, other than his silent acknowledgement of her obvious beauty. all long legs, long hair, and long wispy lashes she’d flutter at anyone to get her way. daredevil screamed trouble, but his attraction to her was undeniable. and she conveniently had to be the baby sister of the criminal he was trying to take down.

daredevil!reader who was practically born in the front seat, learning everything about a car before she could even reach the pedals. the baby of her found family and seeks an adrenaline rush at every opportunity. total magnet for trouble with natural charisma that draws people to her.

daredevil!reader who immediately took a liking to rafe, spending her days mindlessly flirting with him and winding him up when she realised that he’s actually sticking around. detective!rafe who puts up with her shit and ends up growing attached the more he spends time earning her family’s trust.

detective!rafe who teaches daredevil to ride a motorcycle, against his better judgment, surprised that she didn’t know how to. “callin’ yourself the best racer in la and you can’t even ride a bike? ‘m disappointed, trouble.” daredevil!reader who prefers to sit on the back of his bike, grabbing his waist and enjoying the breeze through her hair.

daredevil!reader whose driving scares the hell out of rafe. “jesus, keep your eyes on the road, trouble,” sighing as she focuses more on reapplying her lipliner and gloss than on the road. daredevil who sports a big grin everytime he grumpily tells her off.

detective!rafe who sees through her tough exterior, realising how lonely she truly is. daredevil who begins to suspect there’s more to him than he lets on. rafe who is constantly trying to balance his duty as police with his growing desire to please her.

detective!rafe who realises he can’t bring himself to hurt or betray her in any way, even when he has the opportunity to take her brother down.

clearly i love the fast & furious movies sm so what’s not to love with rafe as brian

❤︎ test drive (one shot)

[bokutooooo]

Dream Ride

warnings: strong language! flirting? age gap!! (LEGAL)

"Hey Neela, who's this red neck?" I laugh and Neela rolls her eyes. "This is Sean he just moved here try to be nice." "Hey nice to meet you y/n" he puts out his hand "Hey, have you showed him around yet?". "Yeah I showed him around a bit, you coming tonight?" "I think so my car finally ready, i'm so excited to show it off."

Neela and I are getting ready at my house. "Soooo going to make a move yet? I mean you guys eye fuck each other all the timeeee, you've had a crush on him for years." I laugh "He's turning thirty In like 3 years" "so what? I think you should make a move, It's likely he feels the same". It's true me and Han do flirt a lot but it never went anywhere, plus he is way older than me. "yeah yeah, just keep getting ready missy"..

We pull into the the race centre In my newly improved Nissan Skyline GT-R, of course it isn't just a boring plain car It's pink and white with a glossy finish don't even get me started on the interior. "this car Is so hot, I love it" I smile, proud of what I did "I know right! it's so perfect". I park In a spot near Twinkie's Hulk themed car, makes me grin every time I see it. Neela's already talking to Sean as I'm speaking with Twinkie "I see you're already best friends with red neck huh?" "yeah, seems chill, thought maybe he'd like to come with me tonight. He's seems really into cars." I look over my shoulder at Neela and Sean "You know DK's going to get mad right? Just look, already glaring at him." twinkie looks over, DK already on the move, eyes widen he's quick to rush over. I'm quick to follow behind him "Hey hey hey DK how's going I see you met Sean" I look over at Neela who looks a bit worried. Neela and DK have been dating? for awhile, I mean I don't know if I'd call it dating but best friends with benefits? DK has always been possessive over Neela but sometimes it's a bit much. "Who's this gaijin?!" Neela steps In front but Twinkie is quick to speak up "DK he's here with us, we don't want any problems just here to race. "really? can he drift." I swallow, Sean is probably so confused. "I can race, wanna race?" Twinkie and I look at each other wondering if we just heard the same thing. Now don't get me wrong DK doesn't scare me just I know damn well he's an amazing racer and going up against him Is kind of dumb, especially If you're Sean and have never seen DK race before. DK chuckles "alright gaijin sure, but uh whatcha gonna race with? that?" he looks over at the Hulk car. "He can use mine, see what the kid's got."

I recognize that voice so fast I don't even need to turn around to see who it is. "Really Han? gonna let this kid race with your car? .. alright I won't stop you, I can add it to my collection." he smirks he knows he'll win.

Me and Neela are listening to Twinkie lecture Sean about his stupid decision "Do you even know what DK stands for?" Twinkie crosses his arms waiting for a reply. "No? Donkey Kong?" I laugh and shake my head "It means DRIFT KING Sean, basically Twinkie's telling you that you're going to get you're ass kicked." I smile and watch Sean's face "Maybe I'll win? you never know" "the chances of you winning red neck are slim to none, than you'll have to pay back Han". I lean back against my car, "What about me?" I turn to see Han shoving his mouth full with chips. I smile seeing him shoveling food in his face he's always eating "just explaining what's going to happen after he loses" "hey have some faith in him, maybe he'll win".

"keyword Han. MAYBE, I just feel bad for you sucks you're gonna lose another car." He just laughs and looks at Sean "just try, you'll still owe me though."

"alright let's go! chop chop!!" Han hands his keys over to Sean to his 2006 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IX. "Han man this car is too nice for this."

Han shrugs "Y/n lets go up a level" Neela tugs at my arm "alright good luck Sean, see you at the finish line.. if you ever make it..." I giggle walking towards the elevator. "wait up!" twinkie and Han jogging towards us.

The elevator Is filled with the talking of Neela and Twinkie, the two of them stand close to the door while me and Han are In the back. I watch as Han leans down, "Hey y/n how have you been? it's been a minute since we last talk, missed you" he whispers it so Nel and Twinkie can't hear. "Just been working on Kai, finished her a couple days ago. I'll show you after if we go back to the garage." He's teasing me..I know he is, and I'm enjoying every second of it. "Sure, forgot you name them. I know you've been working on her for awhile, congrats." I smile and the doors open, we step out into the crowd of people. Music's blasting and people are shoving their tongues down each others throat, dancing/gridding. "Do you guys really think he'll win this" i ask looking at Neela and Han "probably not but why not give it a shot"

"Okay!! Let's get this started!!!" a girl steps up between the two cars who keep revving their engines while glaring at one another. "READY?" she looks at the two cars "SET.." the room goes silent for maybe 3 seconds. "GOO!!" and off! both cars race off around the building, twists and turns and all you can hear is screeching noise of the tires. There're quick to go up another level and people rush to get up there. "Come on!" Neela grabs my hand as we run.. or at least try to In our heels.

Once we reach upstairs everyone waits patiently to see who will reach the finish line first. And whoosh! DK stops perfectly, I sigh but already knew what the outcome would be. a minute later Sean screeches In and stops. People are cheering and surrounding DK as I walk towards the scratched up, dented car. Han, Twinkie and Neela are already talking to Sean "You own me a car red." Twinkie's laughing and Neela's talking with Sean. "So that didn't really go to plan huh?"

"Yeah guess not, but I'll just practice till I know for sure I can beat him" I just chuckle at his remark "Han, maybe you can teach him how to drift, a couple of lessons wouldn't hurt." Han turns to me and smirks "maybe you should baby" I glance at him, cheeks reddening at the nickname "why because I drift better than you?" I raise an eyebrow at him with a cocky grin on my face. "whatever you say"

"I wish you'd just race me already! I've been waiting so long" I groan, he smiles "maybe later" he shrugs "you always say thattt!" walking to his car "meet me at the garage, think there's a party going on." I turn back to Sean Twinkie and Neela.

"you guys up for it?"

-----------

Might make another part^!

[kawoala]

DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. chapter 010 ; sorry.

< previous ; masterlist ; next >

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 (866)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (last episode of the season guys [probably], profanity, apologies, minor mention of bad past, forgiveness but not lightly yk, terushima bails on runa but it’s kind of funny - sorry to my teruna truthers, also i’m not too sure i like the way i ended this - like not the confession of it but the actual words that ended this chapter 😭)

“I’m so sorry for what I’m about to do.”

Your head moves before your eyes do, looking up to where Runa now stands in front of the door. You furrow your brows, mouth parting slightly in confusion. She takes a deep breath and opens the door, then slips out and pushes someone inside.

Oh. That’s why she’s sorry.

Rin replaces Runa in front of the door now, hands awkwardly shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants. You’re astounded. You sit up in bed, blanket falling off your top half just a bit, and stare at him, eyes blank. 

“What are you—”

“Can we—”

You press your lips together, forming a thin line and nod towards him. “Go.”

He licks his lips, opening his mouth to speak, but then hesitates and closes his mouth. “There’s—” he cuts himself off, eyebrows pinching together in the middle. “I needed to talk to you.”

“So you used my roommate?” Your eyes narrow almost involuntarily and the words feel foreign in your mouth— you’re not used to being mean to Rin.

“She’s my cousin before she’s your roommate, Y/n.” Your stomach drops to your stomach because, yeah, he’s right. Your eyes dart away from him, zoning out into the fabric of your blanket. “I didn’t mean to… Can we just talk like grown adults?”

You scoff, but don’t look up. “Grown adults don’t ghost a girl they just kissed and then get into a random fist fight because she rode with a different guy.”

It’s silent for a long time. Your eyes are glued to the blanket, his eyes are presumably glued to the side of your face. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head. He clears his throat and, for some odd reason, you look at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“I don’t…” He scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t say that a lot. You and Runa are the only people I’ve apologized to in the last ten years, probably.”

You stay quiet, waiting— and hoping— for him to continue.

“It’s hard for me to, uh, express how I feel because—” once again, he cuts himself off, this time groaning in frustration. “This is so dumb. Not, uh, not this, not you. I’m— I don’t tell people what I’m feeling because my dad and shit. It’s stupid, whatever. It’s just hard for me, okay? I’m sorry for ghosting you for a week, I just— Runa told you that the shit I do is dangerous, and that’s not an excuse, but it is dangerous. I don’t want you to be in danger because I like you. I like you and I don’t want you to get hurt or some bullshit like that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek as he talks. You heard from Runa about Rin’s dad, but hearing it from him makes it a little bit more real.

There’s a feeling at the base of your throat— the feeling one gets when they’re about to cry— but you swallow it and take a deep breath.

“I’m a grown woman, yes?”

“Yeah, but—”

“I am a grown woman,” you repeat sternly. “I can take care of myself and I definitely do not need you to protect me.” You take a pause, noting that he’s now looking down at his feet, like a child getting lectured. “That being said,” he peeks up at you, eyes hopeful, and you sigh, climbing out of your bed. You kind of forgot that he’s so tall, so when you walk closer and have to crane your neck, you almost laugh, “I… guess I like you, too.”

He looks up fully now, staring into your eyes like you hold the secrets to the universe, like he could stare at you for hours and not get bored. It takes everything in you not to shiver.

“Okay,” he says with a nod. “Okay,” he repeats, taking a deep breath. “What, uh, what do we do now?”

“Wait.” You hold a hand up in the space between the two of you. “I just want to say that this is not me just forgiving you, okay? What you did was bad and it really hurt my feelings. I don’t mean to talk to you like a child, but you understand that it was wrong, right? Like, I know you wanted to keep me safe and whatever, but you should have just told me that. Do you get that?”

“Yes.” His answer is immediate, his nod firm. “Yes. It was fucked up and I promise to never do it again.” There’s a pause— from you and him. “Does this mean you’ll never ride with fucking Oikawa again?”

You raise your brows, giving him an incredulous look that makes him laugh. You open your mouth to respond to him, but a knock on the door cuts you off.

“Hello? Can I come in now? Terushima bailed on me and I’ve been standing out her for twenty fucking minutes.”

You walk over to the door and open it, hand on your hip, eyes narrowed. She gives you an apologetic smile and shrugs. “At least you guys made up?”

“Right,” you hum, rolling your eyes.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@sahrii , @cherrysurf , @heartmaddie , @jpegarchives , @vertejay

@tiramizuloz , @gumims , @mybelovedvi , @chaotic-neutral-ig , @usbrous

@iheartamora , @iluv-ace , @xavlyzn , @reocidal , @mysticstrawberryballoon

@h0n3y-l3m0n05 , @aethersluvrr , @smiithys , @rriwyu , @twiishaa

@kissunday , @ilovejeansosomuch , @anqelkoz , @yiooobb37 , @renardiererin

@pookalicious-hq , @sunnyskiezzzz , @sharkissm @massacremars

[chrissy-kaos]

After driving for like 4ever yesterday. I was able to score this Garrett turbo to replace mine! I’m so stoked! Now i just need a new wastegate actuator which I’m trying to decide if I want the Turbosmart or Forged actuator. Decisions decisions.. 🤔

I figured I’d throw some pics in from yesterday too! It was quite the journey!

I do want to give a big THANK YOU to all the people that helped me get a new turbo. You’re all amazing and I couldn’t do it without you! I have THE best followers ever and y’all make everything worth it! So thank you ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1955 Chevrolet

The cool 1955 Chevy in "TWO-LANE BLACKTOP" with Laurie Bird and Dennis Wilson

1955 Chevrolet 210 and 1970 Pontiac GTO

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐏 & 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄²

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞, music blasting in my headphones as I worked on my car. The Los Angeles sun streamed in through the opened garage door, casting a warm glow over the space. I hummed along to the music, completely engrossed in my work.

I was tinkering with the engine, a sense of familiarity and comfort enveloping me. I always found solace in this space, the tools in my hands and the motor in front of me. I was so invested that I didn’t notice the sound of footsteps approaching.

I pulled back from the engine, wiping the grease from my hands onto a rag. As I looked up, my eyes widened in surprise. Standing directly in front of me was none other than Chris, hands in his pockets, a smirk on his face.

My heart skipped a beat, caught off guard by his unexpected arrival. I couldn't help the look of confusion that crossed my face.

I tugged one of the headphones off my ear, continuing to wipe the grease from my hands. I faced him, my expression a mix of curiosity and mild annoyance.

“What are you doing here?” I asked bluntly, my voice revealing a hint of my surprise.

I paused in my task of wiping down my hands, my eyes narrowing slightly. “Matter of fact,” I added, my voice now laced with skepticism, “how did you get my address?”

Chris chuckled, his smirk widening at my question.“Well, you’re my brother’s mechanic so all I had to do was ask,” he replied nonchalantly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

As Chris spoke, I couldn’t help but silently observe him. His cocky and full-of-himself demeanor immediately set off a dislike in me. Matt’s words from yesterday echoed in my mind, about how Chris could get any girl to sleep with him. Definitely a player. I scowled—I despised people who played with others’ feelings without any regard for their own desires.

I crossed my arms across my chest, the rag still in hand. I scrutinized him more closely, the skepticism growing stronger. “Did Matt send you here?” I asked bluntly, my voice somewhat hostile.

Chris chuckled, seemingly amused by my skepticism, “Relax,” he said, his tone patronizing. “Matt didn’t send me. I came here myself.”

I tossed the rag over my shoulder and walked back to the engine, my focus shifting back to my work. “If you’re here just to talk,” I stated bluntly without turning to look at him, “you should leave. I’m busy.”

Chris walked over to the workbench, pulled out the stool and took a seat. “Look,” he began, a hint of curiosity in his voice, “I just came by because I didn’t know my brother was seeing someone.”

I interrupted him, not even bothering to look up from my work. “We’re not seeing each other,” I corrected, my tone matter-of-fact. “We’re simply just friends.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back, folding his arms.

“Just friends, huh?” he repeated, skepticism evident in his voice. “You’re telling me you’re just friends with my brother and that’s all?”

Chris smirked further, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I mean,” he began, his tone suggestive, “you fix his car. You can’t tell me there isn’t anything between you.”

He paused, a knowing look on his face. “You probably take a different payment since you didn’t take the money from him yesterday, eh?”

I paused in my work, my tongue poking the inside of my cheek. My eyes narrow, a hint of irritation seeping into my voice.

“Who do you think I am?” I retorted, my tone sharp. “Some slut who fixes your brother’s car and sleeps with him for payment? Because I can assure you, I am not.”

Chris smirked, leaning back against the workbench. “Well, that’s why I’m here,” he explained, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I wanna know about you. I didn’t know you even existed until yesterday when I saw you in our garage.”

I rolled my eyes slightly, the skepticism still present on my face. “And you came all this way to satisfy your curiosity?” I retorted, sarcasm heavy in my voice.

Chris chuckled, a sly smile on his lips. “I just wanted to know more about this girl whose brother has kept her a secret from his brothers for three years.”

He paused, his eyes studying me intently. “You can’t blame me for being curious, can you?”

I raised an eyebrow, my defenses still up. “Curiosity is one thing,” I replied, my tone guarded. “Showing up unannounced at someone’s garage is another.”

Chris chuckled, an impish glimmer in his eyes. “If I asked Matt about you,” he began, his voice laced with mischief, “he’d tell me nothing. Sometimes I gotta get my hands dirty to know things.”

I felt a pang of irritation, my expression hardening. “So, you just decided to turn up at my garage unannounced because you couldn’t get any information from your brother?” I asked, my tone more critical than before.

Chris held up his hands in mock surrender, a charming smile still on his lips. “Hey, don’t get me wrong,” he said, his tone light. “I would’ve got information out of Matt eventually, but it would have taken a helluva lot longer.”

Chris leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Listen,” he began, his tone softened slightly, “I just thought you were interesting, okay? I mean, a girl that works on cars—you kidding? I hardly ever see them do that. And since my brother kept you hidden there has to be something amazing about you.”

His compliment caught me off guard, but I tried not to show it. I crossed my arms across my chest, a mix of skepticism and irritation still lingering in my mind. “You don’t know anything about me,” I said defensively, “How could you know if there’s something amazing about me?”

Chris stood up, his movements fluid as he approached me. “C’mon, Y/N,” he said, his tone now dripping with a charming and persuasive tone. “You’re practically making me repeat the reason why I came here.”

I watched him approach, my stance remaining guarded. His words sparked both curiosity and skepticism within me, but I kept my composure. “You came here out of curiosity,” I stated matter-of-factly, “And apparently, my existence is intriguing because I work on cars. Your brother’s including.”

Chris chuckled, now standing directly in front of me. “Not just because you work on cars,” he explained, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Although that definitely added to it. But also because you’re a mystery. My brother’s been keeping you a secret for over three years.”

I spoke bluntly, my voice nonchalant. “Maybe he did it for the better,” I said, my gaze fixed on him. “If I were him, I wouldn’t want my friend to meet my womanizing brother.”

Chris chuckled, a charming grin spreading across his face. “Womanizer? That’s a new one,” he responded, his tone tinged with amusement. “Looks like my brother made quite the first impression of me for you.”

Chris shrugged, a roguish smirk on his face. “I wouldn’t call myself a ‘womanizer’ though,” he clarified, his tone nonchalant. “I’m just someone who wants to have some harmless fun. You know, no strings attached. It’s their fault if they’re looking for something more serious—they hurt their own feelings.”

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation and judgement at his words. “You realize how ridiculous you sound right now, don’t you?” I retorted, my eyes narrowing, “They’re not at fault for their own feelings. You’re the one leading them on.”

I closed the hood of my car with a slight bang, my irritation clear. As I walked past him, I shot him a glance and muttered, “You’re a real douche.”

I made my way over to my workbench and began cleaning up my tools, focusing intently on the task at hand. “I don’t know what your intentions are or what your motives might be,” I continued, my voice firm, “but why should I trust you?”

Chris leaned against the workbench, his casual demeanor unfazed by my words. “You don’t have to trust me,” he replied, his tone still light. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be trusted. I’m not as bad as you think I am, Y/N.”

Chris’ smirk faded slightly as he watched me move away from him, the irritation clear in my gaze. He crossed his arms as I continued tidying up my tools.

He let out a sigh, his demeanor slightly more serious now. “You don’t know anything about me.” he acknowledged, his voice measured. “And I genuinely just wanted to get to know you.”

Chris’ expression softened slightly, his demeanor remaining more serious. “Wouldn’t it be better to know someone before judging them?” he asked, his tone somewhat sincere. “You know nothing about me, and I know nothing about you. I think it’d be fair if both of us got to know each other before making any assumptions or judgments, don’t you think?”

I paused in my task, my gaze flickering up to meet his. The irritation I felt towards him was still present, but his words stirred something within me. He had a point, after all. Judging someone without knowing anything about them wasn't fair.

I set down the tool I was holding and sighed, my arms crossing over my chest. “Fine,” I conceded, “You have a point. If we're going to be talking, then you gotta answer some questions. Straight up, no bullshit answers.”

Chris chuckled, a slightly roguish smile on his lips. “Alright then,” he agreed, his tone somewhat entertained. “Fire away with your questions then. I’ll answer them truthfully.”

With a press of a button, I closed the garage door, effectively sealing us inside. I walked over to the workbench and leaned against it, facing Chris, who was now seated on the stool.

“Alright,” I began, my voice businesslike but a hint of curiosity crept through. “Question number one. Why the hell are you suddenly interested in me? And don’t give me any of that ‘you’re interesting because you work on cars’ bullshit. I can see through that from a mile away.”

Chris chuckled again, leaning back in the stool. “Alright, straight to the point,” he quipped, his tone somewhat bemused. “Fine then. To be honest, my interest in you isn’t solely because you work on cars. That’s just one part of the reason.”

He paused, his gaze meeting mine directly. “There’s something about you that stood out to me,” he continued, his voice somewhat candid. “Your attitude, your indifference, your guarded nature, that’s what caught my attention.”

He then continued. “And To be honest with you, you’re not the typical girl I’d go for,” he explained bluntly. “I’m attracted to girls who are more… girly, I suppose. But you’re different, and that caught my attention.”

He leaned closer, his eyes unwavering. “So, there’s that. Satisfied with that answer?”

I rolled my eyes at his response, his words only adding to my irritation. “So you do want me to end up in your pants just like the others?” I retorted, my tone laced with skepticism.

Chris chuckled, a mischievous smile on his lips. “I mean, if you’re down, I’m down too,” he replied, his tone still tinged with his usual charismatic charm. “But maybe we should slow it down a bit, take me out to dinner first, ma.” His words and pet name only added to my annoyance.

I gritted my teeth, my annoyance with his words and attitude palpable. “Alright, next question,” I spoke, my voice cool and brisk. “How many girls have you been with?”

Chris leaned back slightly on the stool, his expression cool and nonchalant. “A gentleman never fucks and tell, sorry.” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of mischievousness. He then shrugged his shoulders, a lazy smile on his lips.

I rolled my eyes at his response, my irritation growing. “Oh, how noble of you,” I quipped, my voice laced with sarcasm. “But you’re not much of a gentleman, are you?”

Chris shook his head slightly, a mock hurt look on his face. “Now, that’s not fair, Y/N,” he replied, his tone light and teasing. “You’re judging me, and here I thought this was a safe space.”

I let out a scoff, somewhat taken aback by his response. “A ‘safe space’?” I retorted, my tone somewhat mocking. “Please, you’ve been trying to charm me since you walked in here. If it weren’t for the questions, you probably would have tried some other bullshit.”

I continued with my questions, my gaze fixed on him. “Next question,” I began, my tone slightly cool. “When was your last relationship, and how long did it last?”

Chris chuckled, a confident look on his face. “Why?” he countered, his tone dripping with charm. “You wanna be my next? Sorry, I don’t do relationships—”

“Just answer the damn question,” I cut him off, my patience wearing thin.

His expression sobered slightly at my insistence, his playful demeanor replaced with a more serious tone. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, his voice losing its earlier charm.

“Few months ago,” he began, his gaze drifting thoughtfully. “Lasted about two or three months.”

He paused, his expression stoic. “If you’re ask how many girls I’ve been with, approximately three. All three of them were horrible,” he answered bluntly.

I raised an eyebrow at his response, somewhat taken aback by his honesty. “Only three, huh?” I commented, my voice somewhat skeptical. “And what made them so ‘horrible’?”

Chris shrugged slightly, a hint of bitterness in his expression. “Because they just were.” he replied, his voice tinged with resentment.

I continued with the questions, my expression firm. “Are you scared of relationships, since you only have one-nights only?” I asked bluntly.

Chris’ expression tensed slightly, and he avoided my gaze before responding. “I rather not get into that subject,” he admitted, his voice distant.

I noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor and decided to move past the previous question, seeing his discomfort.

“Alright, let’s move on then,” I said, my voice softening slightly. “What about family? Job?”

Chris' expression relaxed slightly as we moved on to a different topic. “I’m a triplet,” he began, his tone somewhat casual. “But I have an older brother named Justin, who is a gambler. And our Mom and Dad are back in Massachusetts. As for what I do, well, I’m a street racer. If you want to consider that a job, then sure.”

I asked him the next question, my gaze fixed on him. “If you’re from Massachusetts, then why move to California?”

Chris responded casually. “There were higher prices in street racing here,” he explained, his tone nonchalant. “California is a hot spot for street racing, so the rewards are more attractive.”

I nodded slightly, acknowledging his response. “Right, I guess that makes sense,” I admitted, my tone somewhat cool. “And how long have you been street racing then?”

Chris’ expression lit up slightly as he answered, his tone casual. “Since I was 18,” he replied, his voice laced with a hint of nostalgia. “I didn’t really know how to work a car at that time, but Matt taught me a few things, and then we both got into racing. But I am self taught when it comes to drifting.”

I interrupted, asking, “How old are you now?” He paused, a smirk playing on his lips. “Currently, I’m 21,” he revealed, his tone lighthearted.

I took a moment to observe him, noting how surprisingly young he looked for his age. My gaze lingered on his features for a moment before I noticed his remark.

“You’re staring,” Chris mused, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I paused, thinking for a moment before deciding on one final question. “Alright, last question,” I said, my tone somewhat serious. “What’s your biggest fear?”

Chris didn’t hesitate with his response, his tone candid. “Commitment,” he stated bluntly, his gaze meeting mine.

I raised an eyebrow at his answer, somewhat taken aback by the honesty in his tone. “Commitment, huh?” I repeated, my voice tinged with skepticism. “And why do you fear commitment so much?”

Chris leaned back slightly on the stool, a casual expression on his face. “Just not my thing,” he replied, his tone somewhat indifferent. “I’m not into the whole relationship scene, you know? Committing to one person and investing all that time and energy. It’s just not my style.”

Chris’ expression took on a somewhat serious note before he continued. “And trust me, I’ve tried before,” he added, his tone sincere. “But it just didn’t work out. It only led to disappointment and letdown, so I’ve just grown to avoid commitment altogether.”

I couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, amused by his response. But catching myself, I quickly covered my mouth, hiding any trace of amusement.

Chris noticed the brief chuckle, his gaze locked on me as a smirk played on his lips. “You found that funny?” he asked, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

I shook my head, trying to regain composure. “No, no,” I denied, my voice firm. “It’s just, what you said. It’s… funny. Commitment being your greatest fear?”

Chris chuckled, his smirk growing wider. “Hey, don’t laugh,” he retorted, his tone half-teasing. “I’m serious. Commitment is terrifying to me.”

Chris leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on me. “Alright, since we’re sharing,” he began, his tone somewhat lighter. “What about you? What’s your biggest fear?”

I paused, considering his question. “Honestly?” I began, my voice somewhat guarded. “My biggest fear is getting hurt, emotionally. Opening up to someone and having them use that vulnerability against you, that’s what scares me the most.”

I continued, my voice gaining a hint of vulnerability. “Probably abandonment as well,” I admitted, my tone somewhat distant. “You never know when people can leave, taking with them all the secrets you shared. It’s unpredictable and scary, not knowing when someone you trust can just… leave.”

Chris listened intently, his gaze fixed on me as I confessed my fear. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just observed me silently before speaking. “I get that,” he said finally, his tone somewhat softer. “It’s tough to let someone in when you’re always bracing for them to leave suddenly.”

I nodded slightly, appreciating his understanding. “That’s the thing, right?” I responded, my voice somewhat resigned. “It’s easier to just keep people at arm’s length, so you don’t have to deal with the possibility of them leaving and taking everything you shared with them.”

Chris’ eyebrow raised slightly at my response. “And Matt?” he asked, his tone somewhat curious. “Do you think he’d leave?”

I paused before answering, my voice firm. “I hope not,” I replied, my tone somewhat protective. “He’s genuinely the only one I have. I trust him with my life.”

Chris’ expression softened slightly as he heard my response, a mixture of understanding and respect in his gaze. “Sounds like you guys have a pretty close bond,” he remarked, his voice somewhat warm.

Chris continued with his questions, his tone still somewhat warm. “How did you guys meet?” he asked, his eyebrow raised in curiosity.

I smirked, playing off his attempt to get more information. “Well, trust is earned, right?” I said, my tone slightly teasing. “Looks like I earned yours pretty easily, but you haven’t earned mine yet, not yet at least.”

I couldn’t help but tease him, not yet ready to open up and give him the details he was craving. It was a defense mechanism, a way to keep people at arm's length. It took months before I even opened up to Matt, and I hated letting people in. I despised feeling weak when they left.

Chris chuckled in response, his expression hinting at amusement. “Playing hard to get, huh?” he said, his tone light. “I see how it is. You’re gonna make me work for it, ma?”

I shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk on my lips. “Maybe,” I responded, my voice somewhat coy. “You have to prove yourself worthy of my trust, after all. Why would I make it easy on you?”

Chris leaned in slightly, a charming smile on his face. “Maybe because I’m irresistible,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “And you can’t help but be drawn to me.”

I rolled my eyes at his overconfident statement, but couldn’t deny the slight flutter in my stomach. I tried to maintain a cool exterior, however. “Oh, please,” I retorted, my tone somewhat sarcastic. “I’m immune to your charms.”

As I continued to banter with Chris, my mind wandered for a moment. I had to admit, when I first laid eyes on him, I couldn’t deny that he was attractive. But as soon as I found out what he was really like, any initial attraction faded away. Yet deep down, I couldn’t deny that there was a thrill in playing hard to get, in seeing him try to charm me. It was a game, a challenge, and though I was loath to admit it, I couldn’t help but somewhat enjoy it.

As we continued to banter, I decided it was time to end our interaction. I started putting away my tools, my movements casual. “You should head home,” I said, my tone somewhat indifferent. “Before your brothers are worried sick.”

Chris grinned, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. “Trying to get rid of me already, ma?” he teased, his tone playful.

I let out a soft scoff, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. “More like making sure you don’t wear out your welcome,” I retorted, my tone half-teasing.

Chris chuckled, his expression amused. “Oh, come on,” he protested, feigning hurt. “You’re kicking me out already?”

I rolled my eyes, though secretly enjoying the banter. “Yes, I am,” I responded, my tone firm. “You’ve pestered me long enough for one day. Time to go.”

I walked over to the garage button and pushed it. “Alright, out you go,” I said, my tone somewhat sarcastic. “Time to go bother someone else for a change.”

Chris feigned hurt once more, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me,” he said, his tone playful. “Being discarded so easily.”

I chuckled, pushing him gently out the garage. “Oh, you’ll survive,” I retorted, my tone light. “Now shoo, before your brothers really do get worried.”

Chris laughed, letting himself be pushed out of the garage. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, his gaze still holding a hint of mischief. “I’m going, I’m going.”

Chris turned back as he reached his car, a confident smile on his face. “See you around, ma,” he said, his tone somewhat cocky.

I rolled my eyes once more, not at all fond of the pet name. I watched him get in his flashy car and drive off, shaking my head slightly. “So full of himself,” I muttered under my breath.

After closing the garage, I found myself sitting at my work bench, curiosity getting the better of me. I decided to grab my laptop and start searching for information about Chris on the internet.

Normally, I wouldn't trust what the internet had to say, but given how little I knew about him, I couldn't resist the urge to find out more.

As I read through various articles and social media pages, it dawned on me that realistically, I could just ask Chris these questions myself. But no way was I going to let him know that I was actually interested in learning more about him. I refused to give him the satisfaction of feeding his ego.

As I scrolled through various search results, one article in particular caught my eye. “Chris Sturniolo and His Rise of Success,” the headline read. Curious, I clicked on it.

The article went on to discuss Chris's rise to fame in the street racing industry. My eyes widened as I read further, discovering his full real name: Christopher Owen Sturniolo.

I leaned back slightly, taking it all in. So, not only was he a street racer, but he had some fame in the world of illegal racing as well. This certainly explained his arrogance and confidence.

The article described Chris's accomplishments in the racing world, mentioning his impressive track record. It also hinted at his association with a certain gang, though the details were vague.

As I finished reading the article, I couldn't help but feel a mix of unease and intrigue. I knew street racing was dangerous, but the fact that he was involved in some sort of gang made it all the more concerning.

I closed the laptop, running a hand through my hair as I took a moment to process the newfound information about Chris.

I reopened the laptop, a mixture of curiosity and intrigue taking over. I navigated to his social media accounts, scrolling through pictures of him with different girls, their Instagram accounts linked.

I found myself getting more and more curious, clicking on the girls' Instagram pages one by one. I couldn’t help but snoop, my need to know more about him taking over.

As I continued to scroll through each girl's Instagram page, a familiar sight emerged. Video after video and picture after picture showed Chris at clubs with these girls, sometimes partying, sometimes smoking, but always around high-speed cars and dangerous races. It seemed that this lifestyle was a significant part of his life.

As I was scrolling through one of the girls’ Instagram profiles, my eyes landed on a video that made me grimace. It was a clip of Chris and the girl making out in what looked like a crowded party. His hands running all over her body.

“Gross,” I muttered to myself, quickly clicking out of the page. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of disgust and annoyance at the idea of Chris with these girls. Why did he have that effect on me?

I continued scrolling through his tagged photos, and one in particular caught my eye. A guy’s account had a picture of Chris working on a car in a black tank top, his orange coveralls rolled down to his waist, revealing a toned physique.

I couldn’t help but linger on the photo for a moment, taking in the sight. His muscular arms and shoulders were on full display as he focused on the car. It was a striking image.

I mentally shook myself, realizing I had been staring a bit too long at the picture. “Snap out of it, Y/N,” I muttered to myself, scolding my own thoughts.

I needed to stay focused. I couldn’t let myself get sidetracked by his appearance, regardless of how attractive he was.

Despite my best efforts to stay focused on the task at hand, my curiosity got the better of me. I found myself clicking on article after article, searching for more information about Chris.

I spent hours going down a rabbit hole, learning tidbits about him and his life within the street racing world. It was addictive, the thrill of discovering secrets I shouldn't know, secrets I shouldn’t care about.

The more I researched, the more I wondered why I was putting so much energy into learning about this guy. He was obviously a playboy, a charmer, with a reputation for having women falling at his feet.

But still, I couldn’t stop. I kept going, reading article after article until my eyes started to burn from the screen glare.

I finally closed the last tab, closing my laptop and letting out a sigh. I leaned back in my chair, massaging my forehead.

“Who really are you, Chris Sturniolo?” I muttered under my breath. The more I learned, the more confused I became.

He was a talented racer, a womanizer, and possibly even linked to a gang. But what did I really know about him, outside of all the articles and pictures?

I picked up my laptop, walking over to the garage door connecting to the house. With a flick of a switch, the garage lights darkened, casting the space in shadows.

I pushed open the door leading into the house, my mind still swirling with thoughts about Chris and all I had read about him earlier.

As I walked further into the house, my thoughts continued to stir. Who was Chris behind the flash and fame? Behind all the pictures and articles, the illegal racing, and the girls?

I couldn’t deny a feeling deep down inside that there was more to him than what met the eye. A person, a real person, different from the persona he often portrayed. There had to be more to him than that, a depth that the internet and the media couldn’t capture.

A/N: SECOND CHAPTER! SO HAPPY HOW THIS ONE CAME OUT

TAGS: @st6rify ✮⋆˙ @jetaimevous ✮⋆˙ @certifiedstarrr ✮⋆˙ @slvtf0rchr1s ✮⋆˙ @l3sbiancvnt ✮⋆˙ @wh0remikasas ✮⋆˙ @r0s3luvr ✮⋆˙ @emely9274 ✮⋆˙ @mimiluvzpicklez ✮⋆˙ @courta13

── .✦ MASTER—LIST ⭑𓂃 | ── SERIES HERE ໑‧₊˚.ꪆ