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whatifyoulivelikethat · 6 months ago

Text

never not mine | jjk | "i hear..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

Bygones will be bygone eras, fading into grey. Breaking up with Jeon Jungkook had been a vicious, clean break. He tried to take it back, but the damage was already done. You walked out of the world you didn't belong in, at least until Kim Taehyung calls your name.

this is part i | part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of controlling behaviors in a romantic relationship; reader is emotionally distant after said breakup; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; your POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; and a certain Maestro cameo; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

“Please love me again.”

You could hear him saying it but you pretended not to hear. You pretended not to know. You pretended he wasn’t there. He was persona non grata. No, he was simply another blurry face amongst many that faded into the grey background of grey days. He was only a ghost. If he happened to be in the same place as you were, it wasn’t any of your damn business. People were allowed to be wherever they wanted to be.

“I’m sorry.”

Yes, he was.

Sorry that he couldn’t walk all over you like he wanted. Sorry that he couldn’t control you on that leash like he wanted. Sorry that you had the balls to cut all ties and not put up with his selfish bullshit anymore. Sorry. What a word. Your response had not been a vindictive one, though. You hadn’t blocked him on social media. You figured he would block you himself. The last moments were him berating you for being late, what if something happened to you, I was worried, and you snapping. It had taken every fiber of your being to not fling your clutch in his face and tell him to take himself out if he cared so much.

“I understand what you meant now.”

The first couple times he attempted to speak to you after it all, you were ice-cold furious. So angry that you simply refused to speak to avoid spitting literal fire. So, you didn’t. And then it became a habit. Then you stopped caring. You stopped feeling. You lived your life.

Alone.

Like an abandoned puppy, Jeon Jungkook followed you every chance he got, but there were less and less chances as time went on. You would walk past him. He would follow until it was definitely too creepy and simply stop, staring after you with a lost look in his empty eyes. Everyone could see the broken heart in his stare.

A lot of people asked you what happened.

It was a valid question.

It was just as valid for you to not answer.

“I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else.”

You avoided people who couldn’t let it go or cut them out altogether. What was the point of shit-talking, taking sides, making yourself angry over things that couldn’t be changed? What was the point of being upset over nights that couldn’t be taken back? Over phone calls and you sitting alone in a restaurant, empty chair in front of you and the reason in your hand, an opportunity came up, I’m leaving for Los Angeles in the morning, I need to pack, bye. Over trips suddenly cut short in the middle, the agency called, another model got sick last minute so I gotta go, just stay here and have fun. By yourself. Over accusations, what are you doing right now, send a photo, now. Over doubts, are you really at the supermarket, I don’t know, you could be doing anything, I’m not there after all. Over being five minutes late because the taxi you had taken was driven by an older gentleman chatting away, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to shut up simply because of a boy.

Five minutes.

“Where were you? You need to tell me if you’re late. What if something happened? I was worried.”

“The driver was talking to me.”

“And you couldn’t text that you were okay?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Am I not your priority?” he had hissed.

Snap.

All those times, all those moments, okay, I understand, it’s fine, you can make it up to me later, they all came back to you in vivid recollections, and you had stared at Jeon Jungkook. All those people saying how lucky you must be having such a good-looking guy, an actual fashion model, must be so nice, and you only said nice things about him because it didn’t occur to you to complain, no, it would be silly to complain about someone you loved. That was part of loving someone, wasn’t it, being in love was putting up with these things and believing in their words. All those instances, prove what you’re doing, send a photo. Now. All that shit got you to this moment right here, right now, under this furious scrutiny, his dark brows furrowed, his pretty mouth twisted in a frown, his question ringing in your ears.

His accusation in which he had already deemed you guilty.

“The fuck you say to me?” you had growled softly.

Never once did you ask him what he was doing in the destination that he was at. Never once did you fault him for going out and having fun. Never once did you say anything about the multiple social posts of beaches and hotels and nightclubs and everyone scantily-clad, his arms around fellow models, pressed up against fabulous guys and glamorous girls. If he didn’t answer you for a couple days, you assumed it was due to long shoot days and combined jetlag making him crash. The very answer he gave you the first time you asked. You believed him then. There was no need to ask for confirmation over and over if you trusted him. And you did trust him.

Now, this.

“I was five minutes late. If I thought I would be later, I would have texted you,” you explained with emotionless calm. “At least I showed up. At least I didn’t make you sit down in the restaurant, wait around for an hour only to get a text that you aren’t coming. Not even a phone call anymore.”

You hadn’t raised your voice.

He had looked taken aback.

“But… I thought you would understand.”

“Of course, I understand.” The seething anger was white-hot but your tone was crystal-clear cold. “I can understand, as long as you show me some grace and appreciation for not losing my shit every time it happens. Am I not your priority? When have I ever been yours?”

He tried to answer quickly. “You’re always–”

But you were already pulling up the rideshare app, calling another car to come pick you up. “Am I? Then why accuse me the second I get out of the car? Where was I? In the taxi. You saw me get out of it. Why are you holding five minutes over my head like a death sentence, as if I surely betrayed you in those extra five minutes? If it’s you it could be five, thirty, hours, but I have to understand you are networking. I have to understand you are being personable. I have to understand that you are practicing being friendly because it doesn’t come naturally to you.”

Jungkook simply gawked at you, wide-eyed.

You narrowed your eyes, creating a distance he could no longer cross.

“Am I just here so you have someone to visit when you’re bored? Someone to fuck?”

Maybe the vulgarity was taking it too far. Maybe saying all of this in public right now was in poor taste. His jarring question rang in your head. Am I not your priority? Maybe you were wrong to say it all now, but it was the way he said it, as if your love for him had become invalid once you were five minutes late to the appointed time for this date that you didn’t know whether or not he would abandon you in the middle of or take you home and rock your world – and you realized you didn’t care what the outcome was.

You just didn’t give a fuck anymore.

There were so many things he could have done. He could break up with you if his career was more important. He could say sorry more. He could find ways to make it up to you. He could, but he didn’t, and you understood. But this. This you could not understand. This he could not do.

No.

This you would not let him do.

If this was innocent concern, he made it worse by coming off as suffocating and hovering. Now, you realized that no excuse would have been good enough to convince him otherwise. He had already made up his mind to attack you the second you walked out of that car, delivering in the fatal blow instantly. All those moments. All those times had become hair-thin cracks, marring the bond between you and him, tiny little slices to kill the relationship and your will to be in it.

“I don’t think…”

He trailed off, not completing his thought.

The car pulled up.

This was surely the meaning of quiet treason.

“No, you don’t,” you had finished for him with icy agreement. “You expect. You expect me to be here and hold your hand when you want it, and now I know you will never ask me if I ever need my hand held.”

You had stepped away from the curb, not once raising your voice, no longer looking at him, your knuckles digging into your beaded black clutch. You expected it to hurt at least a little.

It was nothing compared to this death by a thousand cuts.

“W-Wait!”

You didn’t.

You had opened the car door and closed it quickly. The driver requested you to confirm your name. You tersely nodded. They didn’t ask any further questions even as you witnessed Jungkook’s shocked face in the side mirror as the vehicle drove away. You didn’t look back. You didn’t even cry. Maybe you should have given him a chance to say something. A chance to change.

Except you had.

This wasn’t the first time that you had this conversation, although the first time was you sitting him down and saying, hey, if you’re not sure about your schedule, let’s not arrange any dates around those days. We can go out when things settle down. The answer was agreement and all was well for a couple weeks. And then it would happen again. And then you would bring it up again. Whoops. And again.Then he would ask you what you were doing when he wasn’t there. Oh, really? Send pictures.You asking, this is a bit much, isn’t it? The answer being, I want to know you’re safe. You finally admitting that it drove you a bit crazy. Him laughing and saying he was a bit of a handful, brushing away your concerns in light of his own.

Five minutes.

Am I not your priority?

The anger had nowhere to go.

Like how summer turned into fall and then into winter, the anger grew cold and dense and concentrated. A stone. Then one day you turned it over and found nothing underneath. You stopped caring. On one hand, you could have been the bigger person and reached out. On another hand, you didn’t see the reason in wasting any more time. What good was closure? What good would it do, talking it out and getting the same result? Deserve this, deserve that. Fair or not, at the end of the day, it didn’t work and there was no forcing something if neither party wanted to really try. I understand, until you couldn’t anymore.

Now.

Now, you would sit alone at restaurants and not be disappointed.

Table for one, yes, thank you.

Now you would spend hours at the games store and no one would be asking you to take pictures and prove that you were there. He used to play video games too, but he gradually fell out of them. Busy. Felt like he couldn’t keep up. Sold his PC because he was never home.

Emptiness where he had once enjoyed spending that time with you.

You would stay at the music store for a long time, looking over albums and wondering if you should buy them. It had been such a long time. You never listened to CDs anymore although you had been obsessed with music as a kid. The past felt like a different time. Memories of a clunky CD player and wired headphones with the metal arch over your head and those spongey earcups. Now you had wireless earbuds and a phone. Still, you looked over the colorful albums and wondered if you should get one, just to have it or maybe even put it on display. He used to listen to a lot of music too. Probably still did, on planes and in cars. He used to share your taste.

Now you didn’t have to share anything.

You stuck with your favorites, still, for years. It was an ever-growing list of popular artists as well as lesser-known indie artists that you never forgot. You made sure to listen to the top hits as well since those songs were popular for a reason. The occasional earworm could lead you down a pleasant rabbit hole, too.

You picked up an album of a band you liked but had never owned and went home.

Got that dopamine unboxing it and smiling at the photocards. Looked through the extras with the album on repeat playing through your Bluetooth speaker. You didn’t do these kinds of things in front of Jungkook usually. You had always prioritized engaging with him. Listening to his stories, looking at the photos of places he had been, shaking your head at the long hours or difficult call times. Every moment precious because you would never know when it would be cut short.

You had made everything about him when in his presence.

You hadn’t blasted the relationship all over social media although it was obvious. For the most part, people had been respectful. You hadn’t deleted all the photos he was in, the photos he had taken of you, nor had you blocked him. People asked. You repeated the same thing over and over. I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else. People eventually stopped asking. Old news was old news. There was no visible resentment, and so the interest died out.

You caught Jungkook looking at you from across the concessions stand at the movie theater.

Those big dark brown eyes filled with rueful invitation.

You didn’t know what movie he was going into, but you turned away and didn’t think about it much.

Watched the movie you paid for, alone.

Went home.

Alone.

You used to watch movies twice. Once by yourself when it released, then a second time when Jungkook could make it. When he could. Sometimes he couldn’t and the movie was already out of theaters. Then you both would watch it at home when it released on streaming services. It was what it was. You enjoyed movies. You had the time and money to watch them twice. But now you didn’t have to.

That was nice.

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was deliberately going places that you often frequented or if it was coincidence. It was likely the latter, because he usually wasn’t alone. He had a group of friends that lived in this area and often came to visit them. He used to joke that it must have been fate for you to meet as your friend circles didn’t overlap. At least he had not shown up to the video games store or the music store you usually went to, so you didn’t feel threatened in any way. Maybe he was visiting his friends more because he was sad. Maybe he was visiting them more in hopes of seeing you, the same tactic he used when he first asked you out. Maybe it was both.

It was probably both.

Sometimes you would cry in frustration.

Sometimes you would play games to distract yourself.

Sometimes you didn’t mind too much as the days passed. Sometimes you would look outside and admire the sun. Sometimes it would rain and that was nice too. Sometimes you were sad but it wasn’t a negative feeling. Such was the natural course. Sadness was the promise of happiness to come, because one couldn’t exist without the other.

At least, you believed so.

Ther wasn’t much more you could do than that.

For a bit there you had almost thought the relationship hadn’t mattered because you had walked away so coldly. In some ways, you wished you could take it back. In other ways, you didn’t. It was hard to discount years of your life simply because of how the chapter ended. There had definitely been unique experiences that you were unlikely to relive. You used to attend lavish parties with Jungkook, especially many around the holidays. You would dress up in your best and put on a brave face. A lovely dress, the high heels he brought you, carefully done makeup and hair. Jungkook would walk in with you gliding beside him, silently holding his arm. People would tell you how fun it was working with him and how lucky he was to have such a pretty and understanding lady. These were all work events full of unfamiliar faces. Jungkook used to be reserved and hang out with you in corners but, as he got more popular, more people roped him into conversations, remember this, and he would slip in with his friends, naturally, laughing and smiling. You would wait nearby, at yet another party surrounded by better bodies, and somehow he would find you at the end of the night, ask you if you had fun.

And you would smile and assure him.

“Something like that.”

The best parties were the ones thrown by his friend Kim Taehyung. He had been in the entertainment industry for a long time, becoming Jungkook’s friend though their crossed paths in modeling. He had an affliction for celebration and Jungkook was always invited, which meant you, too, bore witness to many magnificent events hosted by him. The most extravagant were his own birthday parties. Quite so, as the date was after Christmas, and he continued the festive mood. Taehyung loved a theme. He would rent specific venues, arrange for live music, impose a dress code, everything. One year, he flew everyone out to Paris and rented an entire restaurant to celebrate. Even if you barely knew anyone there, it was fun being in a different world created by Taehyung’s magical vision. Everyone was thrown into it together, experiencing the vibes of an old American jazz club, the white beaches with glass waters during Christmastime, or a playful night filled with Taehyung’s favorite childhood games and sweet treats, complete with food stalls from the area of Daegu he grew up in.

You didn’t fit in, but no one did because these were all Taehyung’s fantasies brought to life.

He always sent the invitations by physical mail, on stunning stationery to match the theme. Someone else must have created them, but seemingly Taehyung approved them all as every single one contained his unique flourishing signature. You kept them in a box. They were too pretty to throw away.

You had received an invitation this year too, to a midnight masquerade ball, but you didn’t go.

Perhaps he didn’t know yet. Or, perhaps he did know and Jungkook asked him to invite you. They were quite close. If there was a plan, you didn’t take the bait. The date came and went. Maybe Taehyung considered you a friend, but that was probably a stretch. Jungkook didn’t like you talking to Taehyung too much.

Apparently, you made him smile too big.

Or something.

Taehyung had an entire party to get to every time you met him, anyway. You would have to shoo him off because there was very little night and Taehyung wanted to speak to every guest one-on-one. He was sincere like that. He was romantic like that. He was dark and handsome and in his own head, in his constant dream of living his wonderful life that, from what you could discern, he deserved. He even always remembered to ask the staff working at his party to eat cake with them. At the end of the night, Taehyung would pick up the microphone and thank the guests for coming and thank the staff for working hard to provide everyone with a good time. Taehyung always remembered to say thank you and he always made sure to express his gratitude to everyone, no matter their status.

You missed being at his party, a little bit, if only just to witness a fairy-tale in real life.

But you weren’t part of Jeon Jungkook’s world anymore.

And so you missed the party.

Please love me again.

On quiet, grey days, you realized how very boring your life was. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to think about the good times. About his laugh, about his starry eyes when you came into view, about enchanted nights where you would both make magic between bodies. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to pick out all his flaws until the memories were burned, images stricken with ash, never to be the same again. On quiet, grey days, you had every chance to run back or run away, at least in your head, but instead you lived your very boring life doing neither of those choices.

Whether you loved him or hated him, the result would still be the same.

You entered the artisan tea shop and greeted the staff. You talked about how your father was into tea, chatted about what would make a good gift. The prices of the sets. The amount of loose-leaf tea and how many cups it would make. The various flavors and strength. You smelled a bunch of different ones. Rejected some, remained indecisive about others, accepted a few as contenders.

You heard the bell by the door chime again, musical and clear.

A male’s voice, deep and polite.

You tensed. Your body knew before your mind caught up. You pointed to several flavors you had liked, and the employee suggested a gift box sampler featuring a watercolor camellia-printed limited-edition teacup set that you agreed to readily, all the while vaguely aware of a tingling behind your neck and a vigilant tension forming in your lungs. But it wasn’t until your name was called that you turned around by instinct, and then froze with recognition. Dark brown eyes under graceful black-brown waves. Tan skin glimmering under the lights. The image completed by a three-piece chocolate brown suit paired with a ruffled warm gray dress shirt and sharp dark leather oxfords. The stylish man smiled widely, box-like, and walked towards you without hesitation.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Kim Taehyung must have known, and yet.

You bowed lightly. “Hello.”

The sales associate was immediately charmed by Taehyung’s deep voice and dashing appearance, their gloved hands hovering over the half-packed box and openly ogling the demandingly handsome gentleman that took your hand warmly before lightly kissing your knuckles. Straight out of a movie. Probably learned it from one, or from traveling in Europe. He let go after a lingering moment.

He had said your name with the same velvety warmth he had at all of his parties.

It had hurt, but it wasn’t his fault.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you buying something?” He raised his head and daintily smiled at the employee before giving you his full attention again. “Let me pay for it.”

“No, ah,” you interrupted him quickly, handing over your card before Taehyung could reach into his heavily lined pockets. “No, sorry. I’m buying a gift for my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized immediately, retracting his hands. “I meant to do something nice for you and I’ve overstepped.”

“It’s… It’s alright,” you chuckled softly, trying to dissipate the awkwardness. You turned slightly to sign the receipt, not looking at the price. Your card went back into your black leather bow purse. “You had no way of knowing. How are you? And your parents?”

Taehyung was still a little sheepish but he remained next to you at a respectful distance. “Me? I guess you could say I’m holding on. I think I might take a small break soon and spend a week with my family. How did you know I was thinking of them?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a mind-reader.”

You shook your head with a smile, taking the beautifully wrapped bag and bowing in gratitude to the employee. “No, you’ve just never been a big tea drinker. It was only a guess.”

He scratched the back of his head and sighed lightheartedly. “Ah, you’re right. I wanted to buy a grown-up gift, but maybe I should have asked what they wanted. I don’t know the first thing about tea.”

You both began to walk towards the entrance.

“You’re their adorable child. They will love anything you gift them.”

Taehyung grinned. “So, you think I’m adorable?”

You opened your mouth and then.

Then you were suddenly hyperaware of the brightness of the lights in the tea store. Suddenly aware of all the customers around you milling about and chatting with their friends and the employees. Suddenly the scents of the store were too strong and too varied and suddenly a phantom grip on your arm from a time long past pulled you away from your center, into the past, and you remembered all the times you stood in a corner of a party, on the outskirts of alcohol, music, and magic, wondering why you were so, so alone.

You plastered a smile on your face and replied pleasantly.

“Of course, you are, Kim Taehyung.”

It lasted a second.

Maybe less.

Taehyung gazed at you with curious eyes.

You kept the smile on your face.

He stepped past you and opened the door, gesturing you to walk out before him in the most gentlemanly way, smiling with his eyes crinkling as they usually did when he laughed or was in his comfort zone. “Come. Let me at least treat you to lunch,” he insisted.

You accepted his graciousness and turned as you walked to face him as you spoke. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

He chuckled, the sound coming deep from his chest. “Of course, I’m busy, but I always have time for a friend.” He shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “My manager expects this kind of behavior from me anyway.”

You paused, looking up at him. “Friend?”

Flutters of lashes and confusion in dark brown orbs.

“Are we not friends?”

People around you continued walking, giving you and Taehyung weird looks. He didn’t seem to notice, undeterred by the world around him that wasn’t currently in his focus, the main character at every moment in his life, oblivious to anyone trying to get under his skin with their judgements, never the accessory to someone else.

It turned out to be more difficult than you thought, saying the words.

“I… well… Don’t you know that Jeon Jungkook and I aren’t dating anymore?”

Taehyung tilted his head with childlike innocence.

“Um… so you don’t eat lunch anymore?”

You blinked at him.

“Huh?”

He gave you this look. You stared back. For a moment the disconnect was so tangible that you almost had a word for it. A zephyr ruffled Taehyung’s soft curls. The sun made his skin glow and his dark eyes sparkle. Small signs of Mother Nature affectionately acknowledging one of her children. He smiled. It was then that you realized this was a decision you could make. A decision of a lonely self, not a lonely self that was an extension of another. A yes or no that didn’t have to be polluted by the past.

“Well…”

Your hands tightened on the straps of the gift bag.

“If you’ll have me.”

Taehyung grinned. “I know just the spot! You’ll love it.”

It was nice lunch.

No, it was wonderful time.

You had been worried that you would be underdressed in your calf-length flowy black dress and chunky knit lavender cardigan, but you fit right in. Taehyung had picked a busy rooftop brunch spot. It was French-themed, or at least as French as Korea could get. There was a bit more wood than brass and crystals. It still made for a nice hideaway. It seemed Taehyung was well recognized here, and yet people maintained a distance regardless. It must have been his polite yet stern demeanor. When he sat down though, he seemed to relax, waving a hand and telling you to order whatever you liked.

You never could turn down good brioche.

You thought it would have been awkward, at least. It wasn’t. He talked about his work, asked about yours. Asked what you thought about this or that. Memories from past events, what you liked or didn’t like. What he paid too much for that nobody noticed, along with a hearty laugh, and moments he loved, such as having a group photo at every one of his events. You asked him if he enjoyed planning the events themselves. He confessed with a roughish smile that he had a planner for all those details. You thought it strange to spend so much money on such occasions, but there was something pure about it too. Besides, you ended up getting your answer.

“What’s the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?” Taehyung abruptly asked, sitting up in alarm.

You blinked at his suddenness. “Uh… I don’t know. I would have to think about it.” Your lips upturned slightly, then you tilted your head and looked back at him. “What about you? What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in your life so far?”

He relaxed back in his chair. His expression became pensive. You paused in mid-bite, seeing him look a bit sheepish.

“You’re not the first person to ask me about the parties,” Taehyung chuckled deep from his chest. “A lot of people tell me it’s a waste of money. And it is to other people, but it isn’t to me. The most important lesson I’ve ever learned was…”

He raised his head with a small smile.

“You can’t get time back.”

You remembered the extensive decor, the delicate hors d'oeuvres, even the various perfumes sprayed into the air complimenting the theme of each party. Exquisite and memorable details. Taehyung ticked his head, seemingly recalling it all too.

“I think I’ve mentioned this, but my grandmother was the closest maternal figure I had,” he explained, fondly smiling. “I’m close to my parents too, but they had to work a lot to give me a good life, so I spent a lot of time with my siblings and grandparents. My grandmother used to hold celebrations for the achievements I had, even if they were mediocre or not that impressive. Nothing extravagant, or anything. A little cake or my favorite sweets. She would sing for me and clap her hands. She would say, it’s my duty to give you good memories. As I got older, I became busy, of course, chasing dreams, and I didn’t make time for her small celebrations any more. I was just out of university when she passed away. I often think I hadn’t spent enough time with her. Time is money, as they say. Next time, I would say, until there wasn’t a next time.”

The weight of his words settled on the table.

“It’s not your fault,” you reminded him, but Taehyung simply smiled and shook his head.

“It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” he agreed. “But that wasn’t it. I couldn’t get all that time back. Sure, did I take jobs that put me in a really good place now? Yeah. Yeah, of course, I make a lot of money now since young me jumped at every chance to model for a small brand or do a single-run commercial. I really love my career. I love that, because I did the hard work, I even get offers to act in primetime dramas now. But I should have made less. I should have made time. I should have gone to see her and let her do her duty to give me good memories.”

He waved his hands in a slight shrug. You could tell he was still regretful about it, but there was something else too. He looked directly at you with that boxy grin of his.

“I decided, then, that I too wanted to give good memories to the people that are precious to me. I have all this money, anyway. Why waste it on things? I want to waste it on memories. I want people to look forward to special days, to celebrate life, to look back on a fun time.”

So that was why.

“That is what is really important to me.”

Kim Taehyung wasn’t only good looks, of course.

“I’ve yapped long enough. What is really important to you?” he asked again, chuckling.

“Oh, I…”

And there were no words.

You straightened, startled by your own silence. There were lots of important things, weren’t there? There was… and there wasn’t. Friends, sure. And, also, friends came in and out of your life. You didn’t take it personally. Family, yes. Cordial but not deep. They had their own lives to live. You almost opened your mouth to say these generic things, and then you caught the look in Taehyung’s eye and stopped.

This basic question was not so basic after all.

“I… Am I boring?” you blurted with a start.

“Boring?” Taehyung frowned. “No, you’re not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Aren’t I?”

He laughed, hearty and deep. “Trust me. You’re not boring. We wouldn’t be having a conversation if you were boring.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are we having a conversation?”

Taehyung smiled warmly.

“Because I appreciate your outlook on life.”

You were taken aback.

“What?”

He nodded. “Isn’t it obvious?” He waved a hand carelessly. “I’ve met so many people doing what I do. Some people are just nice to you because of money. Or think you can boost their reputation. Or they think they can take advantage of you. You’ve been around all that too, no?” He did not mention Jungkook.

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not anymore. I’m pretty ordinary.”

A small frown. “No, everyone is extraordinary.”

You scoffed. “I’m only an accountant. Not even one that works closely with my own clients – I’m just the one at the firm that does the final review over everyone’s work to make sure we don’t get into legal trouble. That’s nothing like what you do.”

He impatiently swept your words away. “Everyone is extraordinary,” he repeated.

“I don’t think–”

“You are different,” Taehyung pressed. “You had been introduced to a different world than your own and you could have been a vulture. You could have taken for your own sake. You could have done everything you could to be ‘one of us’. You could have scorned us too, called it all superficial and stupid. But you didn’t.” He crossed his arms to make his point. “You observed. You listened. You treated me, the people around me, everyone as their own person. We weren’t just some dumb rich people to you. We were individuals.”

You didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t something you had ever consciously thought about before.

“There are so many people that believe in using others, either in a beneficial way or in a cruel way,” sighed Taehyung. “It’s a difficult world. We all need to live.” He reached over and made you jump by placing his hand over the back of yours. “Don’t give up on that, okay?”

Your stared at him with wide eyes. “On… what?”

Almost. You didn’t quite have an answer for the most important lesson in your life you had learned so far. But almost. Kim Taehyung cocooned his palm over your hand and trapped you with his determined brown eyes, straight from a drama scene. A heavenly prince in a fancy café. He looked back to you very seriously, taking all of your attention away from the whispering conversations on other tables, away from the clinking plates and glasses, away from all distractions.

“Don’t give up on the way you want to live.”

Those small moments.

From eating dinner alone to watching movies alone to buying that album and unboxing it yourself to looking outside, days and nights, wondering what could have been and killing that thought over and over again.

“The way… I want to live?” you echoed breathlessly.

The clear, musical chime of the bell by the entrance sang through the air, mingling with the conversation and consumption. A halo of sound that rang true over every table to reach every customer. It was as striking as it was lovely, flawlessly melding into the moment. A pure sound that could trigger a pleasant déjà vu, the recall of a good chat over good food.

Taehyung grinned with his beautiful, perfectly white teeth.

“I want you to have good memories. Whatever you decide, let us make good memories with those precious to us.”

You decided, then and there, that you needed to start doing things.

“Oh, good, you’re home. That would have been awfully embarrassing.”

“W-What…?”

You backed up in your slippers as a stunningly well-dressed man flourished into your home like an astronaut landing on the moon. That was, if the moon was your front door. The black mat was space-themed, printed with abstract stars and a grayish circle. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Your pajamas were also soft black cotton with a twinkly star print, although your slippers were simple, white furry poofs that felt like walking on clouds.

“Take this.”

“What is – oof!”

In contrast to your outfit, the man who had entered your home looked like he had stepped off the runway. He wore light blue trousers that you almost mistook for jeans, however they had a tone-on-tone print that clearly indicated the luxury designer. Underneath the navy-blue duster coat was a crisp white shirt pressed to the gods with distinctive sky-blue trim. A quick glimpse and anyone would know the inner lining of the duster was blue silk, the matching tone-on-tone print subtle and obvious at the same time. You nearly buckled under the weight of a wooden box, gasping as you saw the slices of high-grade beef in a gold bow. The man gestured with his hand in a swooping manner.

“I heard all about it from Taehyung,” he was saying, shrugging his broad shoulders heavily.

“Heard…?” You were still reeling from the unexpected guest and a box of meat. “What’s this, I can’t accept th–”

The man shot you a scathing look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he chided, dismissive. “How unbelievably rude I would be dropping by your home if I didn’t have a gift? Psh, why, I wouldn’t be Kim Seokjin!”

And so he was.

Although, as far as you knew, you and famous-actor-turned-businessman Kim Seokjin were not close friends. Not close enough to be gifted with a house call and meat, anyway. He had been close to Jeon Jungkook back then. They often sought each other out when they both attended the same events. You were well aquatinted with Seokjin’s boisterous personality and his worldwide-known handsomeness. He was no different today, looking sculpted from jawline to broad shoulders to the regal way he stood. Glowing skin. Lightly permed, chestnut brown hair. Full lips, currently in a slight frown.

You bowed awkwardly. “S-Sorry, I just didn’t expect…”

“Ah, it’s alright.” He called you by name, although somewhat awkwardly, as if he was unsure if he should be more formal or not. “I won’t take too much of your time.”

You were still confused about Seokjin saying he had heard something from Taehyung. Actually, you didn’t even know how he got your address, although it wasn’t impossible. After all, Taehyung’s party invitations came in snail mail. It wasn’t that shocking. You probably might have been more annoyed if you were in the middle of something, but all you had been doing was getting ready to heat up some leftover takeout. You shuffled slightly, trying to block the view of the kitchen counter. Not necessarily embarrassed, per se, as your apartment was quite spacious and neat, but nothing here was comparable to Kim Seokjin’s lifestyle. It was kind of pointless to do so, though, since Seokjin was quite tall.

He seemed not to notice or care about the current state of your kitchen.

You stood there, dazed, clutching a box of high-grade beef.

He cleared his throat very firmly. “I came to invite you to the opening of my new establishment. Two weeks from now.” He rattled off the opening date. “But don’t come on opening day. It’ll be too crowded. Some day after. Let me know when and I’ll make special arrangements for you,” he added, stepping forward to tuck his business card into one of the folds of the gold bow. “Call the number on there. My assistant will connect me to you. I can link you with talented professionals if you are interested, which I’ll pay for, of course.”

“I– What – I’m sorry?” you sputtered. “Me?”

The handsome man exaggeratedly whipped his head from side to side. “Uh, do I see anyone else? Yes, of course, you,” he affirmed gruffly. “I came to invite you in person.”

“Well…” This must be how deer felt when confronted with headlights. “I’m not trying to be rude, but, uh… why?”

Seokjin looked offended. “Why? So you can meet people, silly.”

You struggled to connect the information given to you but he was not making it easy. “Meet people?”

“Yes,” he tutted. “You want to meet people, don’t you?”

Did you? You gave him a confused look.

“As Taehyung said,” Seokjin continued as if you completely understood. “People like you need to be surrounded by good people. And I happen to know a lot of them. We need people like you in this industry.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t have any intention of–”

“Precisely.” He barreled on as if your front entryway was his own stage. “That is precisely why.”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“H… Hah?”

Something in his expression softened. You almost forgot the weight of the wood box in your hands. You almost forgot the ridiculousness of you in your pajamas and Kim Seokjin in his luxury designer clothes. You almost forgot that you were in a completely different class, completely out of your element, completely ordinary.

He sighed and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, neatly tucking back his coat. “Look, I understand if you absolutely don’t want to have anything to do with me and the others. I don’t blame you. But,” he added, nodding lightly. “Your presence is missed. I do believe your interactions with those around you have done them a world of good. Maybe not everyone, yes, but you’re still spoken of, even now.”

“What…?” You blinked, doubtful. “Really?”

Seokjin chuckled, nodding. “You are good company.”

You thought all those times. All those events, dinners, parties. You mostly remembered Jungkook letting you be. Sure, you had light conversation with those around you. You couldn’t remember all their faces. They had been simple conversations, you thought, but they weren’t superficial once you really thought about it. You didn’t have basic industry chatter to talk about, so instead you had asked about aspirations. Asked why instead of what. Why acting? Why modeling? Why entertainment? Talks of the past, the present, the future. Pretty normal, you thought, but maybe…

Maybe it was more normal to ask what they were achieving.

Maybe it wasn’t so normal to ask who someone was.

“Anyway,” Seokjin coughed, breaking you out of your daze. “I wanted to give you ample time to think about it.”

“More than two weeks?” you mused.

He waved a hand. “Don’t know about you, but I need time to schedule and plan things. I need time to get myself ready to interact,” he muttered, half-joking and half-bitterly.

The meat was getting heavy. “Ah… What’s the dress code?”

“Aish, didn’t I tell you?” Seokjin tapped the side of his head. “Think about it. Then give me a call, and I’ll arrange for hair and makeup and fashion. No, don’t even bother asking about price. I’m inviting you to introduce you to people, so I am paying. End of discussion. And…”

A loaded pause.

Tick of the head and Seokjin very seriously asked you.

“If Jeon Jungkook is there, will you be fine?”

You answered honestly.

“I don’t think it will be an issue.”

He surveyed you for a long second and then nodded.

“Alright. Let me know when you’ve decided. Have a nice night. Don’t hesitate to contact me if I can help in some way. I’m not a stranger. By the way.” He added one last comment before leaving, spinning back around with a hand on your now open door and the other pointing to the side of the box. “The butcher shop I purchased this from is owned by a friend of mine. Make sure to send your family and friends his way once you taste how delicious and high-quality it is.”

You walked into the nightclub, oddly at peace among the blaring music and bustling bodies, stepping into a world of light and dark and pushing boundaries.

The past couple hours had been spent in a chair, fussed over by a detailed makeup artist and equally talented hairdresser. It had been more enjoyable than you originally thought. Perhaps it had been Seokjin’s excellent choices or their own expertise. They even both asked for your input and offered their advice. It felt like a joint effort. Even the fashion stylist who came later was as informative as they were considerate. You had found out that they had taken your name and your photos to have your fortune read and performed color analysis, respectively. That explained why Seokjin had asked you to take those plain photos. This had made color and style selection much simpler, as you naturally liked all the choices. You were no stranger to tight outfits, although this type of nightlife was not the kind of place you frequented. The stylist had brought a rack of choices, and just in case, a black slip dress looks good on everyone, and all of them were compelling in one way or another. All nightclub appropriate. You asked what to try first. The stylist had asked you how you were feeling.

Feeling?

The answer came out before you could stop it.

“Like revenge.”

You had laughed it off, and so had the staff, but you had seen the gleam in their eyes as if they, too, relished in being part of this so-called revenge.

Well, they were.

You weren’t perfectly sure if this was actual revenge yet, no. You were certainly dressed for it. Black lace corset. Tight lilac short skirt. Black patent leather jacket cropped so severely that it was nearly a bolero. Delicate black pumps with a thin ankle strap. The kind that was a bit fiddly to get on, but was worth it in the end. There was a power in this type of outfit, the kind that made you hold your head high and walk alone with confidence. Perhaps similar to a superhero costume. Just as impractical, too, heh. But that was okay. You weren’t here to prevent any crimes.

Just commit them.

Maybe.

In any case, you weren’t even sure what was going to happen tonight. Something had been planned for you, so you walked in and looked around, wondering if you should ask for help. The luxury was obvious from every corner of the building. From the furniture choices to the expansive bar to the crisp, pressed uniforms of the employees, every detail oozed sophistication. You admired the tastefulness of it, surprised that it didn’t feel gaudy or overdone. Must be the refined touch of Kim Seokjin. Even the clientele was jaw-dropping. You spared a moment to look from face to face, wondering if you should be less obvious about it, but then some paused and gazed back, unafraid, offering a simple smile.

They didn’t know you didn’t really belong, yet.

The sheep’s clothing worked, then.

You almost laughed at your own unspoken joke, and then, either compelled by fate, chance, or some mixture of both, your eyes rose and you saw him. It was definitely him. It was only the back of his head and black leather, but you knew it was him even before he turned around.

Jeon Jungkook.

You had seen him many times after the fact. However, this time was the first time that you came with weapons at your disposal, subtle as they were. For a moment, you wondered what to do. You stared as those brooding dark eyes widened in surprise. His hair was slicked back. Leather jacket, white tank, dark jeans, probably black boots. You couldn’t see it all from this angle. Still, you knew him too well. He wasn’t a suit-and-tie breed unless he was forced by the occasion. And, anyway.

You had mildly hoped that he would dress down these days, as it both suited him and reflected your preferred personal taste.

Egotistical, yes, and, now that you could see, true.

You broke the gaze first, seeing a waiter approach you. Bowed lightly, walking with him as he explained what was in store tonight, and yet your mind was still fixated on that shocked gaze from the far table up above. It did register that you were going up the stairs too, but somehow you knew that you weren’t going near that table.

You wondered if he regretted everything.

You wondered if he saw you differently now, dressed up and on a mission.

You wondered if Jeon Jungkook understood, truly, how deeply he had hurt you with his misdemeanors and you wondered if you, truly, understood how you didn’t help by always sweeping said misdemeanors under the metaphorical rug. You wondered if there was a chance for reconciliation or if this was all a big mistake. Maybe this was only another instance of two ships silently passing in the night. A pair of parallel lines that would never intersect. Or… would this become a pattern that could only be completed by intersection?

Whichever one it was, it was going to be evident tonight.

You raised your head, seeing a champagne bottle and another of expensive liquor.

“Are you ready?”

Your eyes shifted and you smiled up at the waitress.

“Yes, I am.”

She smiled and bowed her way out. Revenge. You savored the word. You had never thought of it that way, but then again that was because you always believed in the higher road. In enduring. That was how strength was formed. Vindication was unladylike and uncouth. Or so the story goes. You became aware that you were being watched.

I don’t belong here.

You twisted your body and stared directly into Jeon Jungkook’s eyes.

He pivoted away immediately. Unable to hold your gaze. Ashamed, probably. You pondered quietly. He brought you into this. All this around you – beauty, opulence, and the shadows between gold. Even without him, your connection to these people remained because his friends believed in you for some reason. You agreed, because maybe there was still something here for you.

But that was no reason to believe that you belonged here nor to act like it.

You realized, suddenly, that some part of you still thought you had to keep up the front.

“Excuse me.”

You looked up to a man who had the expression of a pleased kitty cat. His eyes disappeared from his smile. Radiant, cream skin. Long, bleached-blond hair that was half-tied back from his face but still skimmed along his shoulders. He wore a suit and tie, perfectly tailored, and was noticeably shorter than nearly everyone here. Then again, almost everyone here was a model, in high heels, or both.

“Did I interrupt?” he asked lightly, his intonation hinting at a Busan dialect.

“Oh, no,” you answered with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to space out like that. Please, sit down.”

The man laughed behind his hand before pulling out the chair and sitting down. He had elegant fingers that reminded you of a pianist. “It was cute,” he commented, somewhat shyly, before turning away and clearing his throat. He faced you once again, composed now, and bowed in greeting, stating his name.

You hurriedly did the same.

“I hope I’m not thinking too highly of myself by sitting here with you.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I want this to be an open invitation.” You poured him a glass of liquor to start off the night. He had a noticeable presence. Not a towering one, rather, as someone who knew himself well. Still, you could sense an introverted soul. “Don’t feel too pressured. I only want to ask a question.”

His eyebrows raised, curious. “A question?”

You smiled. “Yes. And I want you to promise to answer honestly.”

His lips upturned thoughtfully. There was something playful about his expressions. Very cute. Perhaps unintentional. “A promise right away to a stranger?”

You allowed yourself a little mischief. “Do I look like I could hurt anyone?”

The man across the table caught the bait and toyed with it. An expert. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean It wouldn’t be pleasant.” He smiled again, with that same kitty cat contentment, and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to tell the truth. You only get one chance. Use it well.” His tone teased, but his voice was sincere.

The question.

You stared into a stranger’s eyes and asked.

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut

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adrienneleclerc · 2 months ago

Text

Celebrity Crush

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles decided to buy concert tickets to The Driver Era since his girlfriend loves them. However, this will be the first time Charles witnesses how much Y/N LOVES Ross Lynch.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: this fanfic will mainly serve as a way to get back into the flow of writing so I hope y’all like it. This is inspired by the way I get so feral and unhinged whenever a Ross Lynch concert edit shows up on my fyp

Charles was on his laptop, sitting at the table in their hotel room while Y/N FaceTimed with her parents on the bed.

“Sí mami, ya tengo todos los regalos para mis primos….Cuando vas a (your mom’s country)?…Así que cuando charles y yo estamos en Nueva York, te doy los regalos, y luego vas planeando como empacar los regalos en la maletas…” Y/N told her mom.

Her and Charles were planning to go to New York before the Texas Grand Prix, their flight is next week. Luckily, Y/N’s favorite band, the Driver Era, just so happens to have a concert October 10, during the time they are in New York. So Charles being the wonderful boyfriend he is, is buying tickets. Luckily, there were still tickets available and they weren’t expensive at all. It wouldn’t even matter if they were expensive, he still would have bought them. Y/N hung up the phone as Charles looks up from his laptop.

“What did your mom want, Mon coeur?” Charles asked. Y/N pulled up a chair to sit next to Charles at the table.

“She wanted to know if I bought the gifts for my cousins. I swear, every time I travel with you for your races, she asks me to buy stuff for her side of the family. My dad…not so much since I dont talk to much to my cousins on his side. Are we going to fly straight to New York?” Y/N asked.

“Actually, love, the jet is already scheduled to take us to Monaco, I hope that’s okay.” Charles said.

“It’s okay, that’s good, actually, that way I can pack better outfits.” Y/N said, before kissing Charles. “The flight is tomorrow morning?”

“In the afternoon since it was a night race.” Charles said.

“Cool, I’ll brush my teeth then we can go to sleep. Or do you need to shower?” Y/N asked.

“I was thinking we could shower together.” Charles said with a little smirk. Y/N just nodded her head, giggling lightly.

“I mean it does save water.” Y/N said. Charles got up first, grabbing Y/N’s hand to lead her in the shower.

After their shower, Y/N blow dried Charles’s hair for him before she started her hair routine, also blow drying it because there’s no way in hell she is sleeping with wet hair. The next day, they ate, got dressed, and were ready to go to the airport.

As usual, Y/N slept on the flight to Nice, and with their New York flight being at night, they had time to get eat and finish packing their bags with extra clothes they needed for the trip. On their flight is where Charles thought it was time to break the news.

“Mon coeur, what do you plan on doing during our New York visit?” Charles asked. Y/N started wondering.

“I Don’t know, honestly. I just thought of visiting my mom before she goes visit my grandma, so I haven’t really thought of anything. We could go apple picking upstate, why do you ask?” Y/N asked.

“No reason, just wanted to make sure you’re free October 10th.” Charles said.

“What’s special about October 10th?” Y/N asked.

“Nothing really, just that I got 2 tickets to the driver era concert.” Charles and Y/N turned to face Charles.

“You’re kidding.” Y/N and Charles shook his head. “Ah! No way, I’m gonna see if my friend can come.”

“I thought we were going to go together.” Charles said and Y/N looks hesitant. “Why don’t you wanna go with me? I promise I won’t dance.”

“It’s not that it’s just…are you sure you want to go? It’s not your scene.” Y/N said.

“We’re going.” Charles said.

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Y/N said.

It’s not that she doesn’t want to spend time with him, but the concerts end with Ross Lynch being shirtless and all the fangirls losing their minds. So when the concert rolls around, they’re waiting on line and there were two girls talking in front of them.

“I also excited, do you think he will wear a tank top and rip it off like last time or do you think he’ll be wearing a button down?” Girl 1 asked

“Who cares, he’s gonna end up shirtless anyway. But I love Rocky, he’s such a vibe.” Girl 2 said.

“Who’s going to end up shirtless, Mon coeur?” Charles asked.

“Oh you’ll see soon enough, muñeco.” Y/N said, patting his back.

The venue doors are open and everyone started walking in, Y/N went to the merch table, holding Charles’s hand so he doesn’t get lost in the crowd because it is a small venue, she decided on buying the t-shirt that said “Ross’s Girlfriend” (which I really wanted but I couldn’t get) and Charles decided on a shirt that had the band name in the front and tour dates in the back. Charles paid for the merch and they got to the floor after Y/N put new shirt on over her outfit.

“You really like Ross, huh?” Charles asked.

“You have no idea. He’s been my celebrity crush since he was on disney channel.” Y/N explained, Charles just nodded. “Thank you for buying the tickets, muñeco, really.” Y/N kissed Charles and pulled away as soon as she heard the introduction of the band.

When “Natural” started playing, Ross took off his shirt, Y/N was staring at him, completely mesmerized by the way Ross moved and interacted with his brother, Rocky. Charles recorded Ross and Rocky singing and then panned to Y/N’s reaction. Charles was liking the music but he believed Y/N sung “when you need a man” a little too loudly. Overall, they enjoyed the concert, Y/N more than Charles obviously, they were walking to the car and once they got in, Y/N asked.

“Did you have fun?” Charles looks at Y/N.

“Of course I do, Mon coeur, watching you enjoy your favorite band perform makes me so happy. I’m glad I got to do this with you.” Charles said, kissing her. “I just didn’t know you were so in love with the blonde guy.”

“I’m sorry, muñeco, but he’s 6’1, Can sing, dance, and there’s the nostalgia factor. You know I’m your number one fan.” Y/N said, making reference to one of their songs.

“And im yours.” Charles replied.

“Hey, do you think we can hit a drive thru or something, I’m hungry.” Y/N asked.

“Sure thing. Are there any other celebrity crushes I should be aware of?” Charles asked,

“Musician wise? No. Actor wise? There’s Jensen Ackles and Dylan O’Brien, that’s it.” Y/N said.

“Interesting. There’s no way to meet them, right?” Charles asked.

“Unless you are willing to drop about 2 grand on a Supernatural convention in Jersey. Why Jersey?” Y/N asked.

“It’s not that much money.” Charles said.

“Muñeco, that’s awfully sweet of you but this show ended in 2020 and they are still holding conventions for it. Plus I checked before, the Jensen Ackles photo ops are already sold out.” Y/N pouted,

“Maybe next time, Mon ange.” Charles said.

“You would really spend money so I could meet my celebrity crushes?” Y/N asked.

“If it makes you happy, I would bring you the moon.” Charles said,

“I love you.” Y/N said.

“I love you too. Now let’s go get you some chicken nuggets and fries.” Charles said.

“And a milkshake.” Y/N said.

“And a milkshake.” Charles replied before driving off to the nearest fast food drive thru.

The End

Was it stupid? Yes, but did I like writing it? Also yes. Hope y’all liked it!

I love this man, sorry not sorry, had to include him

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff

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lvndosnorris · 7 months ago

Text

the winner takes it all • l. norris smut

paring: female reader x lando norris

authors note: my first ever piece?! i mean, the special occasion definitely helped kickstart my little writing era so hopefully this is somewhat enjoyable? i loved writing it so who knows, maybe they'll be more!

warnings: entirely fictional, f! oral receiving, fingering, edging if you squint, f! forced orgasm

lando was certainly giddy off the champagne; the bubbles making every odd sentence fall out his mouth with a hiccup, lips parted and speckled with fizz as he dwelled in the celebrations. if it wasn't for everyone's attention being on him he wouldn't have thought twice about whisking you away, desperate to be close to the only person he wanted to thank in this moment — but how would he explain his sudden disappearance?

you'd made the effort to giggle with everyone, stealing partial glances of your boyfriend every now and then. there was a part of you that was adamant you were being subtle: yet the knowing elbow to your ribs as you lost where you were in your ramblings, eyelids heavy as you peered intently at lando as he tilted his head back, tongue protruding as he lapped at the champagne that was being poured from above his head.

it was the same image that was replaying in your mind as you clambered into the back of the taxi, your palms splayed on his upper thigh as you adjusted yourself beneath the seatbelt. the air was thick, stuffy even, as you felt your chest tighten under the thin material of your dress — there was a tension that was evident, lando's thumb curling around your pinky finger as he tugged your hand towards his mouth, lips ghosting a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"you look so good tonight... that little skimpy number doing a thing or two to me..." you weren't sure if it was the bubbles taking over or if he was speaking his mind. eyes afire, blazed, as you unintentionally clamped your thighs just that little tighter together. the fact that the taxi driver could probably hear lando's confessions, crude and direct as he mumbled how all he could think about was you — even during his winner's speech that he was egged on to do, a mic thrust in his hand as he caught your eye from across the packed room.

his lips were on your neck the minute your apartment door was closed and the taxi was merrily on his way to the next customer: teeth nipping at your throat as you struggled to push him away from you, dizzy from the way your stomach lurched with desire. it was stupid really — you'd seen each other the morning of, hungrily wishing him all the luck in the world and proceeding to roll your eyes dramatically when he reminded you that he was already the luckiest.

"you've been teasing me all night," you tried to be stern, your scold coming across more as a whimper though as his fingers trailed down over your hips. the crown of your head settled on your front door as you tilted yourself backwards, trusting your boyfriend completely as your urges finally took over, "you'll be the one apologising this time if the neighbours come knocking."

your joke fell on deaf ears as lando's nails scratched gently over your exposed thighs, hiking the material of your dress further up until he got complete access to you. every time he saw you like this, all flustered and relentless, silence would fall upon him as he drank in his sight. the floor was harsh against his knees as he settled before you, slightly hazed pupils meeting yours as he flashed you that shit-eating grin that had gotten you wrapped around his little finger all those months ago.

should it have been you treating him? considering he was the winner, surely he deserved to be on the receiving end of pleasure tonight? the questions failed to come to fruition though, all thoughts incoherent as he parted your legs in a way that could only be described as hungrily.

it was your noises that made him edge closer to you, not even bothering to discard of your underwear as he nudged it to the side with the tip of his nose. there was a pause in his movements, your chest rising and falling erratically as you waited for him to do something, anything.

you had always been somewhat impatient when it came to lando — maybe it was the fact you knew how good it was going to be, or perhaps it was the burning ache that sat heavy in the pit of your stomach whenever he had worked you up to this certain point between normality and pure ecstasy. your fist knotted between his hair, tugging it a little harsher than usual as you gritted your teeth and inaudibly begged for him to give you something.

as a way to tell you he was listening he obliged; his pointer and middle finger scissored against you as he parted your cunt, tongue between his lips as he finally dragged a taste from you. lando had always been an eater, evident in the way his tongue moved against you now — circling your clit before stroking down to your hole. your wetness decorated his chin and around his mouth, glistening skin being all you could focus on as he pulled away for a few seconds to marvel at how your face was contorted in pleasure.

the intrusion of one of his fingers caught you off guard, one hand clutching his head as the other held onto the wall in a pathetic attempt to stay upright. the few chutes of champagne that you'd been sipping on all night accompanied the glee that surged through your veins, tingling every limb as you rolled your hips in a rhythm that oozed of desperation.

his name felt familiar and warm as it fell from your mouth, subconsciously ending it with mewls of fuck and right there as he dipped his finger in and out of your sopping cunt. each thrust was met with his lips wrapped delicately around your clit, starkly different to the way his finger curled inside of you, trying to rub against that sweet spot inside of you and send you into a downward spiral of pleasure.

as soon as his second finger found itself between your slick walls you felt the ball in your gut grow bigger, heavier as you could barely keep your eyes open. lando's tongue was messy against you, devouring you between muffled moans and whines. just as his fingers got harder and his tongue became wetter he stopped — everything still in the doorway to your apartment as you let out a half-strangled cry. there was no way that he could let you linger there, teetering on the edge of an orgasm as you curled your toes that still sat uncomfortably in your heels and knitted your eyebrows together in annoyance.

in that moment you felt the warmth fizzle from your body; your mind falling back into reality as you became conscious to the room around you once more. lando's grin was smug, cocky even, as he kissed your inner thigh. it was soft, a complete juxtaposition to the way he was eating you only seconds before.

"you can do it for me, can't you?" his question seemed distant from you, as if he was miles from where you were. there was an air of confusion, not able to conjure the words to ask what he meant before his hand cupped your cunt, fingers parting you. his fingertips grazed your hole once more, stroking between your clenching walls as you felt yourself turn to putty in his hands.

usually you'd need more than this; for him to strum you all over again, work you up to your orgasm once more. but this time he didn't — your boyfriends eyes trained on you, dampened lips parted as he watched the way you writhed against him. rocking your hips to meet his hand halfway, spine arched as you cursed him vehemently in between groans.

the noises that came from between your legs were nothing short of filthy; an indication that you were close to cumming whether you planned to or not. there was nothing that you could hold onto that would have kept you earthed, his scalp sore as you tugged cruelly, wrapping his locks around your fingers to try and control your orgasm. it took one, two, possibly three, more pumps of his fingers and his palm flush against your clit before you felt your body snap — heaven bubbling inside of you as you clenched. the sheer intensity of your orgasm had lando's head spinning, wrist trickling with your own juices as he studied how you shivered and sighed.

"lando, i—" your words failed. forehead slick with sweat as he skimmed his hands from your sensitive heat to the backs of your thighs, kneading your flesh in a attentive way. you wanted to thank him, to tell him that you loved him. but all that came out was a timid squeak as you tried to move, your shoulder blades sore from where they'd been pushed against your door.

he knelt back until he was sat on the floor, lets spread as he scooped up a small bead of your cum with the tip of his thumb. suckling it into his mouth he hummed, a deep, melodic noise, "seeing as i'm the winning boy do i get my reward now?"

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goldsainz · 1 year ago

Text

THE COOLEST DRIVER — one shot.

pairing: lando norris x reader

MASTERLIST.

summary: when you introduced lando to your siblings, you didn’t think they would become so attached.

request: “Lando × reader. Your younger siblings who are 2 and 3 are crazy about Lando. Lando is amazing with them they don't like when you to hug/ kiss him Though. "No he's mine!" Your sister says as she pushes you away. When you go for a kiss. "My Lando time" your brother says. Snuggling into Lando. You find it adorable but annoying. Fans love it.”

warnings: im pretty sure that none

NOTE: thank you for requesting!!!! so this is short and sweet, and i also added a little smau at the end 🫶 i’m in my lando obsessed era. so if you suddenly see a lot of lando content posted, just let it be. silverstone grand prix has me so so excited, can’t wait… also fingers crossed lewis gets podium🤞

[ word count: 737 ]

Lando and you had been going out for quite some time now. It was as serious as a relationship could get, and evidently, he had met your family.

It was no surprise when your siblings got obsessed with him and just about followed him everywhere. They wanted to go to every Grand Prix you went to, because if you could, why couldn't they? It took quite some time for them to understand that you were an adult, and as such could do what you pleased.

Your brother adored Lando. He tuned in for every race and Lando quickly became his idol, even though he would never really say it out loud. Suddenly, he wanted to be a driver too. Your boyfriend was more than happy to help him out with his dream, and since he was so little, he could have a shot at doing it for a long time.

Your sister however, seemed to like Lando in a completely different way. Whenever she saw Lando he would hug him while burying her face in his neck, hiding her smitten face. There was no way you could ever kiss or even be too close to Lando if she was present, not if you wanted to avoid the tantrum she would throw. Claiming Lando was hers, and that you were stealing him from her.

Lando loved your siblings. It was refreshing to have such support from little humans, who idolised him and always got excited to see him. So it was no surprise when for this year’s Silverstone Grand Prix, his home race, he invited your whole family to the paddock.

When you broke the news to your siblings they ran to hug Lando, their excitement almost pushing him off balance as he attempted to hold both of them at the same time. It was a sight to behold, and you wished you would've gotten it on camera because it was just too precious.

“Go pack your bags!” You told them, watching as they scrambled to their rooms.

“I can’t believe they are coming.” Lando says, one wrapped around your waist, pulling you in for a side hug.

“They can’t even believe it themselves.”

You watched your parents talk with Lando over the schedule, all while holding you in his arms. They both couldn’t stop expressing their gratitude, and your boyfriend just repeated that it was his pleasure and there was nothing he would love more than having all of you there.

His sweet words made your heart rush, and you turned to face him just for a quick peck since your parents were still around. You should have known what a bad idea that was, because all of a sudden your siblings appear in the room and they cannot hold in their disgust.

“Ew!” Your brother shouted, covering his face with his little hands.

Your sister ran to push you off of Lando, not liking the sudden closeness. Your mother rolled her eyes at the dramatics your siblings loved to display. Lando just brushed off your mother’s concern, more amused at the reaction than anything.

“Hey! We’re not going to Silverstone if you behave like that.” You tell them, you know you’re lying because there is no way you are not taking them. Not when you know how excited they are.

“No!” Your sister screeches, wrapping her arms around Lando’s leg as if to show how much she wants to go.

“Did you pack your bags?” Lando asks your sister, kneeling down to her level.

“Yes.” She says, her voice muffled now that she has thrown her arms around him.

“And your brother?”

“I think so.”

Your brother takes his hands off of his face the moment he hears he was mentioned. Moving to sit beside Lando, an annoyed look passes his face as he watches his sister.

“You excited to go to Silverstone?” Your boyfriend asks, knowing full well your brother is bursting at the seams of excitement.

“Very!”

“Is there anyone you’re excited to meet?”

“Lewis!”

“Lewis?” Lando asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he hears the emotion on your brother’s voice.

“He’s so cool!”

“Is he?”

“Yes!” A giggle pushes its way past your brother’s lips, suddenly bashful at the admission.

“Cooler than me?”

“No, silly.” He says with an obvious tone, face palming himself as if the answer was obvious, “You’re the coolest driver ever!”

“That’s what I like to hear!”

2K notes · View notes

oofthwoods · 9 months ago

Text

PROLOGUE! ── ˙ ̟ bring home the glory !!

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: how heavy is the weight of a legacy, and what would you do to protect it? to you, legacy means the formula one team bearing your family name. as a child, you eagerly tagged along with your mother to races, sharing laughs with the engineers and mechanics, and being lifted into the air in triumph after every win. yet as time passed, those moments became fewer and farther between, and before you knew it, the once-legendary team was now scraping by at the back of the pack. in your final visit with your grandfather before he passed away, you made a promise to him: you would drive for the team that he and your grandmother poured their blood, sweat, and tears into, and you would restore glory to the williams surname, whatever it takes.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: new series!! so excited for this one. tell my your thoughts, and if you want to be added to a taglist <3

masterlist next ‭→

MOTORSPORT ARTICLE: WILLIAMS' LINE-UP FINALLY REVEALED.

In a groundbreaking move for both motorsport and gender equality, Williams Racing has announced the signing of Y/N Williams as one of their drivers for the 2024 Formula One season. With this move, Williams becomes the first female driver to secure a seat in Formula One in more than forty-five years, marking a significant milestone in the sport's history.

The decision to bring Y/N Williams on board comes on the heels of her remarkable performance in the Formula 2 championship in 2023. In only her second year competing in the series, Y/N clinched the championship title, showcasing her exceptional talent and determination on the track. Her impressive season saw her clinch multiple victories and podium finishes, solidifying her status as one of the most promising young drivers in the sport.

For Williams Racing, the decision to sign Y/N Williams represents a bold step towards revitalizing the team's fortunes on the track. Following a challenging season in 2023, marred by inconsistent performances and disappointing results, the team is eager to usher in a new era of success with fresh talent at the helm.

The announcement of Y/N Williams as a Williams Racing driver also comes with a reshuffling of the team's lineup. In an expected move, Logan Sargeant, who had been part of the team since the previous season, will step down from his role as a full-time driver. However, Sargeant will remain with the team in a new capacity, serving as a reserve and simulator driver, lending his experience and expertise to support the team's development efforts.

The news has sparked a flurry of reactions from fans and pundits alike. While many have hailed it as a historic moment for gender equality in motorsport, others have expressed skepticism, questioning whether swapping one rookie for another will indeed bring about the transformative change the team needs.

Some voices within the Formula One community have raised concerns about the pressure and scrutiny she may face as the first female driver in the sport in several years. Yet, amidst the debates and uncertainties, there remains a palpable sense of excitement and anticipation surrounding her debut season.

As the countdown to the 2024 Formula One season begins, all eyes will be on Y/N Williams as she prepares to make her mark on the world's most prestigious racing stage.

y/nwilliams

liked by clairewilliams_official, alex_albon, and 257,174 others

y/nwilliams a williams in williams. is there anything more perfect than that?

view all 9,245 comments

williamsracing we don't think so, y/n! welcome aboard.

y/nwilliams thank uuu 🥺

user1 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

user2 the first woman with a seat in more than 40 years in the team that was basically created by a woman? this one is for the history books ladies and gents

-> liked by y/nwilliams

francolapinto congrats! excited to see you in f1.

-> liked by y/nwilliams

user3 watch as she crashes more than sargeant 🤣🤣

usern4 her surname is williams? as in the williams?

user5 yep. daughter of claire williams, granddaughter of frank and ginny williams. user6 so she's lance stroll but with panties.

user7 is she actually good? williams can't keep hiring random rookies and expecting great results...

user8 she won f2 with carlin in her second year, so i'd assume she is great

alex_albon welcome to the family!

user10 i didn't think i'd live long enough to see a woman competing in f1

©️ oofthwoods — 2024.

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cheriladycl01 · 2 months ago

Text

My love, is mine all mine - Max Verstappen x Norris! Reader x Charles Leclerc Part 7

Plot: Norris' Twin sister is also a driver in the 2021 line up and is in her rookie era. Not only do the commentators struggle to now talk about the pair in the race, but they also struggle to talk about talent. What happens when two drivers find her eye-catching.

A/N: I've brought Luisia into things because of the timeline and it being 2021. Don't hate on her, or the fact that i've brought her into my writing please!

The British Grand Prix was anything but boring. Max ended up DNFing, Lewis having another home race win and you riding your brothers bumper the whole time while defending him from Carlos.

“Please let me overtake, I can catch Bottas if you let me” you’d asked through the radio. You’re tyres were better managed than your brothers and you were clearly the quicker driver right now.

“Hold position” is all you heard and an irritated sigh comes out of your mouth.

“You’re defending from Carlos Y/N we want to come out of this with the most points as possible” he admits and you want to smack your wheel but you remain concentrated until the end of the race.

You get out the car once you’ve done the last lap, congratulating Lewis before being weighed and going straight into the garage.

You expressed your frustrations to your race engineer who remained understanding but explained that it was best for the teams result.

“Hey, thanks for … listening to the team” Lando awkwardly come over and you nod at him before walking off to the media pen. You get ushered over by your PR manager to Crofty whose conducting interviews.

“Y/N, Y/N interesting race no?” He asks and you nod before taking a drink and sighing.

“Yeah, seeing the rear win of my brothers car was perfect” you joke sarcastically making him laugh and your PR manager shake her head at you.

“Mmmm and team orders didn’t seem to let you overtake, is that proof there is a Norris 1 and Norris 2 in that team?” He asks and you cock your head to the side.

“I think it’s hard obviously Lando’s been in the team for 2 seasons now already, halfway through his third and it’s my rookie season. So I think naturally there is some … underlying loyalty that McLaren hold to Lando as they are basically building the team around him. Which at times like today can be extremely frustrating for me, but it’s one of those situations where you just move on and look forward to the next race” you admit and he nods.

A few questions later and your walking into the hospitality to find Luisa and Nathan talking.

“Hey guys” you smile tiredly and Luisa comes up and pulls you into a soft hug.

“Well done today! You drove amazing!” She grins and you smile back at her.

“I gotta agree, you do drive really well” Nathan adds to the conversation.

Soon enough Lando comes strolling in, still in his race suit the same as you with it hanging off his hips.

“Hey baby” he says pulling his girlfriend into a kiss. He sighs leaning into her touch, and as you watch there’s a little green monster of jealously on your back.

It was kind of upsetting how Lando was happy with a girl and had someone to come to the races with him and support him and make him feel better after bad races, when he told you all you were doing was playing with his friends hearts.

You quietly exited the room, going to take shower and get the day of driving washed off your body. On your way you stop for some conversations with a few of the McLaren workers who were packing up the motor home.

While in the shower your mind couldn’t help but wonder to Charles and Max.

You’d had a good conversation with Charles, and maybe just maybe it was time to see if whatever it was that you’d found once again in Monaco could lead to something more.

And Max, well … you didn’t even really know what was going on with him and your best friend. Ex best friend.

She’d unfollowed you very quickly the night that you all seemed to be at the club and Max has come up to you and you’d very quickly dismissed him. It seemed as though they were … something because they were now following each other and twitter stans and the Instagram investigators were putting two and two together now.

deuxmoi

Liked by y/bff and others

Max Verstappen spotted with McLaren racing driver Y/N Norris’ childhood bestie, in a restaurant in Monaco.

Sources say that they seemed very close and it was quite an intimate dinner.

Now it seems that y/bff/n has unfollowed Y/N on all socials while Y/N remains following her with photos still up of the two of them from years ago, so what happened we wonder?

View all comments

user1: Source: Trust me Bro

user2: omg what if Y/N was jealous Y/NStappen RISE

user3: if y/n still follows her surely her friend that has the issue with her right?

y/user

Liked by luishinaoliveria and others

y/user: Been working on my self care lately because even when no-one cares, you should 💕

Comments have been disabled for this post

Instagram Story Caption:

Loving Taylor lately 😈

It was time you bit back, you wanted to tell fans what actually happened. But it seemed childish and pretty to instead you sent them clues via Instagram and Twitter.

You were becoming a bit of a PR nightmare with lots of rumours surrounding you.

There was a decent break between Britain and Hungary. You spent a lot of time working on yourself and getting your body in peak condition for the next few races. You went home and saw your parents when Lando wasn’t there and had a sleepover with Luisa when he was with Max and Carlos playing golf all weekend.

But while you were halfway through a bottle of rose with your brothers girlfriend a text that had you squinting to read dinged on your phone.

‘Can we talk? Please?’

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

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imaginesig · 5 months ago

Text

“I had the best day with you today”

Based on: “I was enchanted to meet you”

Kimi Antonelli x Norris!Reader

SMAU

Could be read as a stand alone, very short

After dedicating Enchanted to their relationship, who would’ve thought Kimi and Y/n would get to see it live

yn_norris

Liked by carmenmmundt, user71, landonorris, and 917,828 others

yn_norris: “I cry a lot but I am so productive”

tagged: no one

Kimi.antonelli it’s genuinely concerning watching you stress over bracelets and a bodysuit

oscarpiastri im right there with you mate

Yn_norris eras tour prep is not for the week‼️

lilyzniemer especially when you’re making your own stuff

user1 the nods to Midnights/Vigilante shit 🧐 Ms. Norris I think I know your outfit

Carmenmmundt I’m so excited!!

lilymhe we’re gonna have a blast in T-3 days!!

alexandrasaintmleux were all packed up and ready 🫶🫶

user2 all the wags are gonna show up and slay while the men will prod wear some boring ass clothes

yn_norris you best believe Kimi’s gonna slay, I made him a fit so he can’t embarrass me

user2 lmao Y/n

user3 this is so aesthetic i could cry

Kimi.antonelli posted 2 stories!

Captions: 1) ive been roped into bracelet making 2) did I do good?

Replies:

yn_norris

you did so good

Whoever you trade that to will be so lucky

I need to do more

get to it then

Oscarpiastri

Lily hasn’t gotten to me yet

If she does idk what I’ll even make

Best of luck avoiding it solider

Olliebearman

I wanna join

Don’t worry she’s bringing the materials with us so you can make some at the hotel

yn_norris posted a story!

Caption: I’ve arrived 🫶✨🪩

Kimi.antonelli

liked by user1, taylorswift, Olliebearman, and 817,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: “I was enchanted to meet you” 💜

tagged: yn_norris, Taylorswift

yn_norris I love you 💜🫶

Kimi.antonelli I love you too 💜🫶

user1 THEY WERE AT MY SHOW

user2 ugh i need a concert bf

carlossainz55 @/landonorris after tonight I cannot do the overprotective uncle role anymore, they’re too cute

landonorris MATE WHAT

Kimi.antonelli finally a win

carlossainz55 but hurt her even a little…

Kimi.antonelli I understand

Taylorswift THE Enchanted couple

Kimi.antonelli what a compliment

yn_norris I’ve fallen to the floor and started violently sobbing

Landonorris L

user3 did you trade your bracelet??

user4 the fact that this whole post is centered around Y/n 🥹🥰

user5 drivers (+ their so) really brought the best energy

User6 do you think Travis felt more at ease bc he wasn’t surrounded by other celebrities but rather other male athletes?

user7 I wanna know if him and Logan talked American football

Yn_norris

Liked by taylorswift, Lilymhe, landonorris, and 182,928 others

Yn_norris: “I had the best day with you today” 💛

tagged: Kimi.antonelli, lilyzniemer, carmenmmundt, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux

Kimi.antonelli you looked so beautiful in the concert lights 💛

yn_norris ditto 💛

user2 LMAO THEIR OUTFITS

user1 the fact Kimi and Y/n matched the hearts to the lyrics album for both posts makes me sick

lilymhe it was so fun!!

carmenmmdunt gorgeous

lilyzniemer you win best couple costume!!

landonorris after seeing Vigilante Shit I have decided that your outfits are way to inappropriate and therefore I hate them

yn_norris too late 😚

taylorswift best outfits! Best energy! Best fan! Y/n I love you 🫶🪩

yn_norris you’re the best everything!! I love you too 🫶🪩

yn_norris HOLY SHIT SHE FOLLOWED ME AHHHHHHH

user3 she’s just like me fr

ussr4 her bracelet collection 😭😭

user5 people have said she wore them the whole time

Yn_norris well what was I supposed to do? Not show off all of my new besties and their hard work??

#f1 #f1 imagines #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smau #f2 #formula 2 #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #kimi antonelli imagine #kimi antonelli x reader #kimi antonelli smau

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angsthology · 1 year ago

Text

“im just excited, is all” — or an alt title: roo vs. the australian allegations

who is roo, really? why is roo?

a/n a short one cause if im being honest theres just one tiny explanation and... yeah

or, yknow, alt alt title: daniel’s detective era

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD

“WOOOO!! I’M NEVER GONNA DIE!” she yelled into the radio, at this point not even shocking her engineer anymore.

“sure, kid.” he chuckled. “congratulations, again, i’ll see you out.”

as soon as she parked her car, the girl quickly jumped out of her seat and stand on the nose of her car, jumping repeatedly with both her feet going up and down excitedly. it ends with a last hard jump off the car and her hands up in the air, yelling on the top of her lungs.

when suddenly — to everyone’s dismay — she started shuffling. well, attempted, shuffling.

daniel, who had the pleasure of sharing the podium with her and was there to witness it first hand, could not help but unknowingly let his hand fly to his mouth to muffle his laughter. man, he just took off his balaclava, he thought.

then, just his luck, the girl stopped mid-shuffle and looked towards his way and waved at him excitedly before running towards the australian and attacking him in a bear-hug.

of course, the man expected the hug, what he didn’t expect was how strong it was going to be.

he let out a muffled “oof” as soon as she collided with him. daniel did not think he has ever gotten a hug this tight. let alone receiving it from a girl almost half his size.

“congratulations!” she could not get bored of hearing that. making her hug him tighter, “okay, oh, lord, i can’t breathe. please.”

“oh—hehe, sorry.” she immediately let go of the man and ran off—well, more hopped off—to get herself weighed.

the older man could not help but chuckle watching her hop away.

again, really?

the girl could never not get bored of all the demeaning questions that seemed to only be targeted towards her.

unfortunately for them, she was not having it that day.

so here she was, berating a man who was like generations behind her — and everyone else — with the rest of the grid listening, watching in amusement.

they always enjoy watching her absolutely destroying male fossils that walked the paddock. it was free entertainment.

her manager didn’t even stop her anymore — well, he did, usually when he knows she’ll say something completely unhinged and not for viewers ears — he just watches with a proud smile like the rest of the drivers until she eventually runs out of breath, all the while also stealing it from the opposite person.

and now it’s about five minutes later and the room was silent, really soaking in her words.

as usual, daniel was the one to break the silence — his tone doing its best to relief the tension that clouded the room.

“remind me not to piss you off.”

sebastian found his voice when he looked towards daniel, “i really admire her agression.”

“i try.”

the mclaren driver was minding his own business when suddenly he felt someone plop down on the seat next to him.

said person didn’t say anything, they just stared at him blankly for a good few seconds. in return, daniel had the expression equivalent of a question mark.

until eventually he felt a little creeped out, “what do you want?”

her response was… weirder.

“what do you want?”

“…what?”

suddenly, out of nowhere, the twenty-two-year-old pulls out a fanny pack from the side. and when she opened it, they were both met with all kinds of candy.

daniel raised his eyebrows at the girl.

“this stays between us.”

it did, but also no, she had previously already approached alex, mick, lando, and yuki, doing the exact same thing.

“…okay?” he then removed the confused expression on his face to one of curiosity of what’s inside the pack, “you got any haribo?”

“everyone, everyone, everyone!”

the girl hopped over to the group of men, dragging a slightly smaller one with her.

“yes, yes, yes!” replied george.

she the shoved the brunette girl in her arms to the front, holding her by both her forearms from the back.

“i want you all to meet daisy-mae!”

a strings of ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s along with ‘nice to meet you’s were exchanged.

the young driver then noticed a certain australian missing.

“hey where’s dan— DANNY!” she jumped when she saw said man approaching. as usual, she excitedly hopped her way over to him.

he chuckled, “hey, roo.”

at that, she stopped mid-way and looked at him confused, “who?”

“you.”

“huh.”

“you’re like a ‘lil kangaroo, y’know?”

still confused, she was brought out of a daze when she heard loud sounds of agreement from behind her.

“that’s what she is!”

“aw, that’s cute, our little kangaroo…”

“LITTLE?!”

taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoisons @vellicora

hope this didnt disappoint </3

#tine’s roo vs the world #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo

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1989butcher · 2 years ago

Text

All Night

daryl dixon x reader

accidentally injured on a run, daryl refuses to leave your side till you wake.

set in early alexandria era

3.5k words ! mostly fluff, maybe a bit of angst but just daryl being angry for a bit. enjoy!!

not my gif!

—————————————————

You were running. Bags wrapped to your body, holding as much supplies as you possibly could as the building burned behind you. “Y/N! Come on!” Rosita yelled from the driver’s side of the truck. You were panting, and could feel blood dripping from your forehead. Just a bit further, you told yourself. You heard the dead right behind you, the ones that weren’t attracted to the fire that is. There were at least 100, maybe more. Abraham opened the door from the inside of the truck, extending his arm out for you to grab. His face was also coated in blood, but it was walker blood. You practically threw yourself at him, and he pulled you into the truck. Rosita floored the gas and sped back home.

Before you could even take the bags off, your head hit the back of the seat and you were out like a light. You had been in the building when Rosita threw the dynamite stick in. Not in an attempt to injure you, but to get the swarm of walkers that were surrounding you away. You had been scavenging the building a little longer than planned, but also none of you saw the dozens from behind the building file in. When the dynamite went off, you flew against the wall, your head throbbing and ears ringing. You were knocked flat on the ground, grabbing your head in. You shook yourself awake, hearing the growls of the dead, and grabbed your bags as fast as you could before running out.

What happened next are only the bits and pieces you remember, when your eyes would flutter open or when your hearing would return. While you were sleeping, more or less just passed out, Abraham had taken the bags off of you as your head rested against the window now. You slightly woke as he pulled each strap from over your head and the back pack off your back, but you never fully gained consciousness.

“Rosita, I’m gonna need you to step on the gas a little harder, my friend.” Abraham said, shooting a concerned look through the rear view mirror where Rosita made eye contact. She pressed her lips in a line and did just what he asked, Glenn turning to look at you. The four of you had only been out a few hours, but since the run wasn’t really planned, it was more of an exploration, you were all a little banged up. You had just unfortunately been in the line of fire. Glenn opened his backpack to reveal some gauze, handing it to Abraham. “Put this on her head to try and stop the bleeding.” He nodded, holding the gauze to your head for the entire duration of the car ride. He was the one that told Rosita to throw the dynamite in the room he had already cleared, or he thought he did. You had wandered back in there to look around a bit more, not realizing what was happening outside. It was a mistake, and you weren’t angry, you just didn’t think you were going to step so close to death today.

You remember feeling pressure on your forehead; you weren’t sure if it was pain or Abraham’s hand, but it just felt hot. The gates were pulled open and everyone opened their door to get out, except for you. “We need help! ” Glenn called out, heading to your side of the truck. Although Abraham had opened his door, he stayed inside, keeping his hand on your still bleeding head. You were losing the color in your face. “No dying today, Missy.” He whispered under his breath. Rosita slowly opened your door, catching your shoulder as it dropped. Glenn was next to her, the two of them carrying you on their shoulders. You were dead weight, honestly by the sheer amount of blood from your head and body, you looked to be dead too. The fear of losing you became all too real for the archer.

After Glenn called for help, a few people from your group came sprinting down the street. Maggie came from the garden, already coming to greet Glenn, but ran after he called out. Rick and Michonne came flying out of their house, and Daryl followed right behind them, running even faster as your seemingly lifeless body was removed from the car. His heart was pounding, it’s like he knew this would happen. Right when he lets someone in they go and leave him, happened to his brother first, then Beth, and now you. Glenn saw the look on his face when he came at them full speed as him and Rosita were slowly but surely carrying you to the infirmary. Daryl looked at him for answers after scanning you up and down. “She’s still breathing, dude. Got knocked out after a run in with a herd.” Glenn was out of breath, since his own body was aching from being hurt too. The archer didn’t respond, just nudged Rosita out of the way and picked you up bridal style.

He looked down at your face, your eyes still shut and your arm now hung over his. You were completely out of it and it terrified him. He could never stop you from going on runs, it was your favorite thing to do together, it added a little adventure after getting used to being so comfortable at Alexandria. He quickly carried you up the steps of the infirmary, kicking the door open with Denise sitting on one of the cots. “What happened?” She asked worriedly, placing her book down and rushing to your side. “Dunno-“ the archer was cut off by Rosita standing in the door frame. “A herd came when she was still in the building. We thought she was out and tossed an explosive in to distract the herd so we could leave.” Her voice wavered, she felt absolutely terrible. You were her friend, more so family now, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt you. The fear that coursed through her veins when throwing that stick was a fear she had never felt before. Rosita didn’t see you exit the building, but if she waited another second it would be too late. Glenn and Abraham were fighting off walkers when ‘Big Red’ as you called him, cried out he was certain you exited and were making your way around. He swore he saw you right behind him.

Pure anger was all Daryl felt. He could’ve punched Rosita’s lights out right here, right now. He turned his head to meet Rosita when she spoke and when their eyes met she could feel his anger from across the room. She shook her head and broke the eye contact, but she could still feel his eyes burning into her skull. Denise listened intently to her words, before getting right to work on fixing you up. She also desperately wanted to ease the tension. “Daryl, can you please get some water. She’s dehydrated.” Denise didn’t even look at him, afraid of his eye contact in all honesty. He stood up without saying a word, walking right out the door to go grab water from the pantry, purposely slamming his shoulder into Rosita’s. Once he was gone, and would be back within a minute, Rosita sighed, and quickly came to assist Denise.

“Let me help, please.” She grabbed gauze and some alcohol, cleaning your other wounds and waiting for Denise’s instructions. You didn’t have any serious injuries, you needed some stitches, water, and rest. You maybe had a mild concussion, but until you woke there wouldn’t be much of a way to tell.

As Daryl stormed down the street, Rick saw the anger in his eyes. He quickly grabbed his wrist, Daryl pulling away as soon as he felt Rick’s touch. “Daryl, stop, you need to cool down.” He said calmly, jumping in front of his path. Daryl attempted to go around him, but Rick kept stepping in front. “Move.” He was about to blow. He needed to get back to you. Getting water was the only thing he could do for you. “It was an accident. They told me the whole thing.” Date cut him off, yelling “She could have died!” He took a step back, staring Rick down.

Rick placed his hands on his hip, sighing. “I know that, man, but she didn’t. It��s not anyone’s fault.” Daryl scoffed at his friend, someone he called his brother. “The hell it ain’t!” A few Alexandrians were watching the altercation now, along with Glenn and Maggie on the porch of their house, Carol was with Michonne and Abraham at the truck, a few of your other people scattered around. The pair could feel the eyes on them, but Daryl’s rage was fueling him. He couldn’t protect you, couldn’t fix what had happened, he needed someone to blame. As usual, he blamed himself. Rick was quiet for a second, knowing Daryl had something else to say.

“If I’d been there-“ the archer started, staring at the ground now. Rick shook his head, “Brother, do not do this.” Rick wanted to step closer to him, but talking with Daryl was not like any normal conversation, especially when he was angry, or when it came to you. “Nah! If I was there, nothin’ woulda happened to her!” He began to feel eyes on him now. Rick lowered his head, sighing “It’s not on you Daryl, it’s just not.” Daryl stepped back, anger still running rampant in him. Until you were awake, he would still be angry. He didn’t reply to Rick, instead he walked around him, bringing back the water he was asked for.

As he jogged up the steps, he saw Rosita at your side. He quickened his steps, making them louder so she would walk away. It worked. She looked at him and quickly stepped away and out of the room. You were cleaned up now, a handful of stitches were near your hairline where the large gash once was. Your other cuts were clean, some covered. He pulled a chair up to your bedside, not taking his eyes off of you for a second. “She should be okay, probably just going to sleep for a while.” Denise broke the silence, looking you over one more time to see if she missed anything. Daryl nodded in reply, a wave of slight relief washed over him, and the anger was quiet now. Since he laid eyes on you sleeping, he couldn’t hold on to the emotion. He just wanted you to open your pretty eyes.

Denise took some supplies and quietly walked out of the building, shutting the door behind her. The other three you were with sustained minor injuries, Rosita had informed her of this when the two were alone with you. She also knew Daryl so desperately craved privacy with you, although he’d never say it. He just had that look.

Once she was gone, he took your hand in his. He wasn’t much of a crier, but the fear of you being dead was way too real today. He was just staring at you as his mind raced. If you woke up, he would have no idea what to say. His immediate thoughts were ‘The hell were you thinkin’?’ Or ‘You coulda died’, but he knew better than to say these kind of things to you. You would always reply with something lighthearted as a way to ease the tension. Everyday was spent running from death, people died everyday before the apocalypse and they died everyday still, just even more so.

He brushed some hair out of your face, tucking some of it behind your ear as he always did. It was a habit he had. You two would be mid conversation whether it was in bed or out walking, and he would gently push some hair out of your face and behind your ear. It never failed to make you blush. He kept his hand near your face, gently rubbing his thumb on your cheek. “Need ya here. I need ya.” He whispered. The sun was setting when you had pulled up, and it was now pitch black in your community. He peered out the window at the sound of creeping on the porch. He pulled his hand away from your face, but not your hand. He was still as shy as every when it came to affection. It was Denise returned with the unused reply. “Sorry.” She muttered, leaving as quickly as she had come in.

Daryl sat there for hours, his hand in yours. He eventually turned the dimmed lights all the way off, as a way to conserve power and he thought it would help you sleep. You loved to sleep in total darkness, always had. He learned this about you one night, shortly after Terminus. He was on watch, and you had a habit of sleeping near him, since you would take watch often as well. You would wrap a t-shirt, or use the sleeve of your jacket to cover your eyes as you slept. One night, before you had fallen asleep, he playfully lifted the sleeve. “Hey,” your voice was groggy, “I’m using that.” You didn’t even open your eyes, just reached your arm up to pull his back down. He released the sleeve and let out a small chuckle. “Weirdo.” He said, under his breath of course. You heard it and shot your head up, this time removing the sleeve from your eyes and rested it on your forehead. “What did you say to me?” You snapped, jokingly of course. “Nothin’, nothin’ at all.” You rolled your eyes and laid back down before he mumbled another “Weirdo.” You sat right back up and attacked him with tickles and teases, the two of you exchanging kisses in between.

He missed you, your laugh and smile especially. It always managed to light up even the darkest situations. It annoyed him at first, but now he knew if you weren’t making a joke out of something, you were really fucked. After a few hours of sitting there and the night was slowly passing, Carol carefully entered the room. “You need anything?” She asked, staying near the door. Daryl turned to her, exhaustion all over his face, and boy she could read him like an open book. She sighed, “Y/N’s probably not going to be up for hours, you should get some rest.” He shook his head. “Not leaving her.” He looked right back at you, in the exact position you had been in for hours, your chest slowly rising and falling with your slow breaths.

Carol asked again if he needed anything, to which he replied “Nah. You should get some sleep.” Carol almost laughed, knowing the two of them probably get the least amount of sleep out of anyone here. She wished him a good night and closed the door, leaving the two of you alone again. The minutes felt like hours, and the hours felt like days. He rested his head next to the space below your hand and next to your body. He still held your hand, and found himself slowly drifting off to sleep.

Morning crept in as slow as ever, and as the sun reached your eyes, you let out a sigh. Your head was pounding, and the last thing you remember was being in that room. Everything felt heavy, but you thanked your lucky stars. You were alive. You wanted to stretch a bit, but you looked down at the figure draped over the side of your bed. He still held you hand. You deeply wished in that moment someone had a camera. Not that this was a moment you wanted to remember forever.

You attempted to speak but your mouth was paper dry, so instead you reached over your other hand and gently ran your fingers through his hair. He let out a small grunt in acknowledgment, since that was something you did often. Then it hit him. It was something you did. You were awake.

His head shot up and he stared at you with tired eyes. A million thoughts raced his mind again. He had a million questions, mostly because he knew you were more careful than that, you weren’t one to get injured on runs. “Hey.” was all he could manage. “Hi.” Your voice was raspy. He let go of your hand to crack open a water bottle that was on the floor, handing it to you. You drank as much as you could before handing it back to him. “Thank you.” You said weakly, but sounded more like yourself. His heart fluttered at the sound of your voice. You smiled at him, as wide as you could with the little energy you had. He returned it with a smaller smile, taking your hand again to kiss it about a million times.

“You stayed with me all night?” You asked, looking around the empty room and realized the sun was rising. “Mhm. Had to make sure you were alright.” He replied, still staring at you in disbelief. The image of you slung over Glenn and Rosita’s shoulders haunted his mind. “I think I’m ok.” You reached for your head, softly touching the stitches. You sighed, you deeply hated having stitches. You’ve only had them a few times, but it just grossed you out. You hated being hurt, too, just like Daryl you always wanted to tough it out.

“You should get some sleep.” Daryl said quietly, watching your every move. If you had the strength to laugh, you would’ve. He looked like shit, “You too.” You let out a small giggle. With this, he knew you were going to be okay. His tensed shoulders eased up at the sound of your quiet laughter. “Whatever.” Was all he said, before standing up and began looking for something. You frowned, assuming he was leaving. “Please don’t go.” Your voice was small, but Daryl didn’t turn to you. He was sifting through drawers until he found a small wash cloth that was clean. He returned to your side, laying your head back. “Not going anywhere, sunshine.” He placed the wash cloth over your eyes, blocking the sun out. You smiled, even though you couldn’t see it, he smiled at the sight of you. “I love you.” You said, before puckering up your lips. Daryl rolled his eyes, lovingly of course, before planting a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Love ya too, now sleep before you give me another heart attack.” His tone shifted on that last bit, it made you realize how scared he was. Your heart broke a bit, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. He returned to the position of sleeping at your side, this time one hand in his and the other draped over his head, you gently rubbing the back of his head till you both drifted off to sleep.

A few days pass and you were back home, just about fully recovered. You were recounting the story of what happened before the explosion when you remembered what you had been doing in that room. “Where’s my pack?” You asked mid-story. Daryl’s eyes squinted, confused at why you asked, but brought you your duffle from the kitchen to the couch. You excitedly unzipped it, holding onto what you had searched for. “I went back in that room because I found these.” You grinned, revealing a half a dozen arrows that you thought would work for Daryl’s crossbow. You handed them to him, letting him inspect the set carefully. He sighed in disbelief “Ya almost died for a couple o’ these?” He asked, still checking the set. You nodded, still beaming at the sight of him.

“Worth it to see that look on your face.” He was so damn happy, he just wouldn’t say it. He had been using the same, maybe four, arrows for two years. You couldn’t believe your eyes when you came across them, buried in a drawer. You remembered it was the last thing you had shoved in your bag before the flash of light. Daryl was afraid to hug you and thank you, the last thing he wanted to do was cause more pain. “Think they’ll work?” You asked as he put them down, along with moving the duffle from between you two. He nodded, carefully wrapping his arms around you. You welcomed the familiar feeling, pulling him into you even closer, resting your chin in the crook of his neck.

“Next time I’ll try harder not to get blown to bits.” You said, causing the both of you to laugh a bit. He pulled away. “That’d be good.” He agreed, before kissing you. “Thanks, for the set. Ya didn’t have to.” His cheeks were burning because of the gesture you had made. You shrugged. “I wanted to. I’d do it again if it came down to it.” Now, you wouldn’t want to get blown to smithereens again, but arrows were hard to come by, and now every time he used them he’d think of you. “Yea,” he scoffed, “Don’t do that again. Didn’t like sitting there all night thinkin’ I lost ya.” He stared at the ground, blaming himself as usual. The only way to get him to stop, you found, was not feeding into it. You took his face in your hands. “You sat there all night?” You assumed he did, but you weren’t certain. “Mhm, had to see those pretty eyes when they opened.” he blushed and so did you at the compliment. Your heart could’ve exploded right then and there. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” You said quietly, stroking his hair. He shook his head, “Sorry for not being there.” He replied, a sadness cloaking his usually rougher voice. You sighed, knowing damn well he would take the blame no matter what happened. “It’s not on you honey, I’m home. That’s all that matters now.” You stroked your thumbs on his cheeks, hoping to ease his pain. He looked back up at you, his eyes a bit glossy. Your heart sank, “Oh, Daryl.” You threw your arms back around him, pulling him close to you again, this time he held you as if you would disappear into thin air if he let go. You had no idea the state you were in when you had pulled up to those gates a few days ago. You had no idea Daryl thought you had died.

The two of you pulled away after awhile, placing a kiss on his lips before looking him in the eyes again. “Can’t believe I almost got blown up, how dumb was that?” You joked, knowing that was definitely one of Daryl’s thoughts hearing the story. He shook his head, laughing at you. There you were, cracking jokes about nearly dying.

That’s his girl. And there wasn’t another place on earth he’d want to spent his night.

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a/n - let me know your thoughts!! would love to take requests too in my ask <3 thank u for all the love on Boots!!

#daryl x y/n #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead #norman reedus #daryl dixon oneshot #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction

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discotenny · 5 months ago

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Fight for you!

How different Hypmic pairs fight for your affection

Samatoki & Sasara, Ichiro & Kuko

Samatoki & Sasara (MCD era)

The pair’s interest in you in undeniable. The two men, at your door, beaten up and bruised in expectation to be treated in your care, is a very- very common sight.

Drinking nights are common with them too, usually having Samatoki as your designated driver since you and Sasara tend to go in over your heads.

You fit into their little duo nicely, and they’re proud to call you something akin to a friend.

Sasara’s the one more open about his fondness for you.

His flirtations are lined with shitty jokes. He’s always itching his neck in your proximity, a sign of nervousness clear as day to anyone. The amount of lame jokes that leave his lips around him drive Samatoki half mad- causing the pair to get into frequent arguments about how Sasara has to tone it down and how Samatoki has to stop being a cock block- all while you watch in the back.

When Sasara gets drunk he gets bold. He’s diving into your lap, sometimes he’s successful, sometimes he misses and goes face first into the floor.

When he is successful though, he makes a big show to Samatoki, complimenting you with no tact and cuddling into your stomach. If you ever want him off, just send a look towards Samatoki and Sasara will be flying across the room.

Samatoki on the other hand, is subtle in his interest.

He shows it through his memory, remembering the most insignificant things about you. Whenever he meets up with you he’s always carrying little packs of your favorite candy, passing it off as “just happening” to have it on hand.

Once, you mentioned offhandedly that your vacuum broke and we’re looking for a new one. All of a sudden there’s a brand new one right in front of your door! Samatoki tells you it was his old model that he didn’t need anymore. Sure buddy, sure.

One tell of Samatoki’s is that he gets so, so flustered whenever you show affection to him. You could fix his jacket and he’d cover his blushing red face. You could wipe some dust off his cheeks and he’d shut down in embarrassment. Not to mention when you patch him up?? He’s blushing and stammering as you wrap his skin, it’s adorable.

The two are willing to share if the opportunity ever presents itself. Nothing much about their dynamic will you will change, after all, aren’t they already treating you as if they’re courting you?

Ichiro & Kuko (present day)

Their rivalry is long gone, any bad blood negated after they've made up. However, the spark of competitiveness still remains after they somehow both catch feelings for you

Picture this right? You knew them from their Naughty Busters days, becoming a close friend to both of them. A classmate to Ichiro, someone who knew Kuko before? It doesn’t really matter.

Anyways, you don’t live in either Ikebukuro or Nagoya, but rather a city close in between. And oh my god to these two boys always have the randomest excuses to visit your city.

Ichi tells you he had a client from your area personally reach out to him. He casually asks if you could spare a room in your house to board him and his bros.

He practically squeals when he sees Jiro and Saburo get along with you- a sense of pride coming inside him knowing his bros unknowingly approve of the person he fell for.

Even after he finishes with his client he asks you to give him a tour of your area, just so he could spend time with you. Even as you point out the beautiful sights of your city, all he can focus on is you.

Ichi insists on buying you everything throughout the day. Your meal, any snacks you point out, any things that catch your interest- hell he’ll even buy you a souvenir even if you live there. You have to stop him from blowing Jiro and Saburo's college funds on your day out together...

Sometimes Kuko doesn't even have an excuse to visit you! He just shows up at your door on some days, looking at you with a cheeky grin and regional snacks from Nagoya.

Has his phone on silent the whole time because Hitoya and Jyushi will be spamming him with calls asking where he's run off to LOL. Kuko usually ends up spending free weekends at your place. Due to his more relaxed life, he ends up visiting you more than Ichiro does.

Due to how much he visits, he has his own travel itinerary that he does and drags you along with him. You ask him why he insists on bringing you to the same places every time he visits and he says everything just feels better with you by his side.

He's taking pictures the entire time you're out. Selfies, shots of you, pics of his food, etc etc. Kuko has so many photos that are basically identical because they're all in the same places with the same subjects but it doesn't matter cause its a reminder he's spent another day with you.

The two will see tells of each other's presence whenever they visit. Whether it be Kuko's photos hanging in your home or trinkets from Ichi strewn about your living space- seeing them just reignites the competitive streak between them.

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cryptic--writing · 3 months ago

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hihi!!!

i got this idea awhile ago and sent it as a req to a few writers but none did it (which is fine lmao I'm not bitter) so I decided to write it myself!

i think it turned out pretty decent for my third smut, especially since I don't do it a lot.

(yes ik the pic isn't from 81 but he in the story is pre megadeth, but idk this era is more fitting in my opinion)

again!! my reqs are OPEN!!! they will close again on Wednesday and idk when they will be opened again. pls send some!!!

ok, sorry for the rant, here's the fic!

word count: 2,874

warnings: smut, kinda obsessed reader, semi public sex, fingering, hand job, uhh just smut in general I'm not typing any more out

MECHANIX (1981)

I was on my way to the grocery store, needing to pick up some meal prep for the next week and other various items, though it wasn't long into my drive when my car began to malfunction.

I groaned in annoyance when I heard the engine muttering, the car struggling to drive as I pulled over to the side of the road, looking at the gas meter to see I was practically empty on gas. I could probably only drive for another three minutes without the car just giving out. I sighed, looking around at road signs for any possible gas stations, spotting a glowing sign in the near distance.

I got back in my car, driving slow enough to not burn all the gas, but fast enough to get there in time. It was going smoothly, until I hit a red light, just next to the station. I didn't know how long the light would be, and I didn't know how long my car could last, so I floored it, running the light and managing to not get in an accident, though getting a lot of angry honks in response from fellow drivers. Somehow, I was able to get into the parking lot and roll up into a gas stand, right before my car ran out of gas.

It was odd, the parking lot was mostly empty, with only 4 other cars there as well. The shop was dimly lit, a buzzing yellow fluorescent light in the center of the ceiling and some more in corners. It was basically a convenience store. I was looking for something to drink when I got home to rest and relax, I had a long day today anyways. I found a four-pack of beers, grabbing them, and beginning to head to the cashier stand.

That's when I saw him. Possibly the most gorgeous man I've ever laid eyes on.

He had long, slightly curly ginger hair, dark brown eyes, and a strong, manly figure, unlike the others I'd seen in magazines or on TV.

He must've caught my staring, waving for me to come over with a dumb smirk on his face. I felt embarrassed to be caught eyeing a man like he was candy, but I quickly scurried towards the counter, placing the back of beers on the surface.

“Just this and seven on pump four,” I muttered, reaching for my wallet that was in my pocket.

“Alright, that'll be $10.43,” The larger man informed me, and I began to search for the total required in my wallet, digging up two five-dollar bills and two quarters before he spoke again.

“A pretty face like yours got a name?” He questioned me, and I looked up at him, my cheeks tinted pink as I handed him the money.

“Oh, I'm ___,” I responded shyly, a small smile on my face as my eyes searched for a nametag on his shirt. “And thank you, Dave,”

Dave nodded with a smirk, “Course, pretty,” He answered, handing back my due change as I grabbed my beers.

“Am I gonna see you again?” He asked me as I began to walk out the door.

I smiled slightly giving a shrug, “Maybe,” I answered simply with a small giggle, exiting the station and walking back to my car.

That's the night of how it all began.

After that night, I could never shake the image of Dave out of my head. He was like a magnet, like a parasite. Something about him was so electrifying and attractive. I caught myself driving the extra mile just to go to his gas station, and he definitely took notice. I took notice of his shifts, only going when I knew he'd be working. Why drive further if I don't get to see him?

He was everywhere, anytime I saw a ginger, I thought of him. I denim vest? Him. Metal band? Him. Everything traced back to him. It was impossible to be this crushy on a man I only met in a gas station, who I buy my gas from, right?

I had been going to that gas station exclusively for 3 weeks now. Even if I didn't need gas, I'd buy a drink or snack from the mini-mart inside. Tonight was one of the nights, when my car was a bit low on gas, and there was a noticeable issue with the brakes or something, an odd noise, like a screech whenever I used them. It wasn't a huge issue, the breaks worked fine other than that, but maybe I could get Dave to take a look at it.

I drove up to the gas station as usual, parking my car in a darker corner of the lot as I got out, heading inside the minimart with the hope of seeing Dave. I walked in, glancing over at the cashier's stand to, of course, see him. We had made a good amount of small talk now that I've come in so often, and I could consider him a close acquaintance. He gave me a wave with his usual smirk, watching me as I waved back and began to look at the various snacks and drinks.

It was odd, normally when the store was empty, besides the two of us, he'd strike up a small conversation, just how my day had been, what I'd been up to, anything really, and I'd ask him the same. He had probably just had a long day and didn't want to deal with me. I walked in the two, small and short isles before opening up a display fridge and grabbing yet another four-pack of beers, hoping I could maybe give one to him if he wanted it. I walked back towards the counter, setting them down as he rang it up.

“$4.39,” He informed me, and I once again dug in my pocket for my wallet, handing him a five-dollar bill.

“I was wondering if maybe you could take a look at my car, the brake has been acting up and screeching, I just assumed maybe you knew a bit more about cars than me,” I almost mumbled out as he took my money, our fingers grazing each other.

“Sure, I can take a look for ya,” He answered with a nod, handing me back sixty-one cents, “Here's your change by the way, show me to your car,” He instructed, and I guided him out to my old, sort of beat up black car.

“Here she is,” I mumbled again, hoping he wouldn't judge me for having a lower-quality car than most.

“Not bad, not bad.. But, now that we're out here, why don't you tell me the real reason you came out here today,” Dave teased, and I knew he was right.

I played it off, trying to act confused, “For the beer and my car, nothing else,” I answered him, though it was clear a lie burned through me.

Dave just gave a snicker, “You don't think I notice the frequent staring? I talked to my coworker, you are never here the three days I have off. And the guy who does morning shifts? Never seen you. Tell me why you actually come here so much,” His words made a flutter in my stomach, and he was gradually moving closer to me, whispering in my ear now.

“Be honest with me, pretty.. I know the shit here isn't that good to where you'd come here four nights a week,” He whispered into my ear, and I could feel my face heating up.

I shook my head, trying to ignore the truth that really lay beneath the surface, “No, I just…” I couldn't come up with a valid excuse, and now he knew he was right.

Dave just laughed again, “You just what? Hm? You just come here to see me? Is that it?” He teased me further, his breath against my neck.

I couldn't lie any longer, there was no other lie for me to use. “Maybe, but-” I was cut off by him.

“If I'm what you want, that's all you had to say, baby..” He said, giving me a kiss on my ear before pulling away, “It is what you want, right?” Dave had to make sure I was okay with this if it were to go further.

I nodded quickly before turning to face him and kissing him deeply, letting out a soft moan as he began to walk me backwards and have me unlock my car so we could get in.

We got in the backseat with me laying down, Dave on top of me as we continued to ravish each other's mouths, soft sounds escaping the both of us as he began to work on getting his own shirt off, tossing it to the front seat of the car as his hands snaked under my shirt, already reaching up and teasing at my breasts, causing me to let out a soft whine.

We finally broke away, removing my shirt, and tossed messily on the floor of the car. Dave took a moment, admiring the sight of me in just my bra.

“Fuck, you're gorgeous..” He muttered, reaching out to unclasp my bra, sliding it off my shoulders, and leaving my chest bare.

He wasted no time, beginning to kiss my neck, sucking softly at the skin as he moved his mouth down my body. His hands kneaded my breasts as he kissed down the valley between them, eliciting soft whines from me as he continued his trail of affection down my stomach, reaching the hem of my pants. Dave's eyes met mine for a second in a question, and I nodded as he began to slowly unbutton them and shimmy them down my legs.

He admired the sight of me left only in my lacey panties, his eyes drinking me in.

“God, you should've said something weeks ago,” He muttered before beginning to slowly pull them down, revealing my sopping cunt.

Dave just stared for a moment before he began to work on his own pants, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans, tossing them to the floor of the car as I eyed his erection that strained against his boxers.

He ran his finger down my slit, making me whine and attempt to grind against his singular finger, searching for more friction. He let out a breathy snicker “You're soaked, baby..” He mumbled, slowly pushing one finger inside of me, making me moan softly as he began to build a leisureful pace as he slid a second digit in, stretching me slowly.

He began to kiss me again, our tongues sliding against each other as we sealed more pleasure, his thumb finding my clit as he pumped his fingers faster, slowly building my high as I moaned into his mouth. I could feel myself clenching down around his fingers as he moved them faster, beginning to build a brutal pace as my moans grew more frequent and louder.

He pulled away from the kiss as I panted for air, “Fuck.. I.. I gon-” I was cut off by a whine as Dave pulled his fingers out of me abruptly, just as I was about to release, he stopped.

Dave gave me a devilish grin, taking his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean of my juices, “Mmm, you can wait a bit more, yeah?” He teased me, stripping himself of his boxers as his large cock sprang free, precum already leaking from the tip. My mouth practically watered at the sight, and he took notice of my staring.

“See somethin’ you like, pretty?” He teased me again with a smirk. I nodded slowly, my hand reaching forward as I took his length in my hand, gently and slowly pumping him, causing him to groan softly and lose his eyes as I gradually increased the pace, jerking him off as he reveled in the pleasure before I stopped suddenly, similar to how he did to me, making him whimper in annoyance.

“Why’d you stop?” He groaned out, now slightly frustrated.

“Same reason you did,” I mumbled, looking up at him.

“You gonna play that game with me?” Dave questioned me, moving so he was now hovering his full body over mine.

I opened my mouth to speak, to answer his question, but before I could he thrusted fully into me, bottoming out as I let out a loud moan, trying to adjust to the aching yet pleasing stretch. I felt him shiver slightly as he put it in, holding it in place for a moment, allowing me to try and adjust. I didn't get much of an adjustment as he began to build a rapid pace without warning, each hard and fast thrust hitting that spot inside me, causing me to moan loudly with every thrust he poured into me, the pain and pleasure mixing splendidly, the sensations combined bringing me to true, pure ecstasy.

I could feel the knot of heat begin to form in my stomach again, his groans and whines being like music to my ears as my own moans joined their melody. He placed his hands on my hips, his fingers digging deep into the fluffy flesh, making me wince ut, knowing his hard grip would leave bruises in the morning. Dave leaned down again, our lips meeting in quick, sloppy kisses as he mumbled words in between each.

“You're tight… feels perfect, just for me, huh doll?” He mumbled, his lips seeking mine as his groans grew louder and louder. I couldn't answer him, my moans taking over my vocal cords as he continued his relentless pursuit into me.

Dave wasn't pleased with me ignoring his words, digging his nails deep into my skin, causing me to whimper in pain and pleasure. “Answer me,” He demanded hoarsely, his thrusts growing harder if they even could.

I moaned out, trying to get myself to form proper words, “Mmm… Mhmm, all.. fuck.. All for you..” I whined out, and he was pleased with my response, having that stupid smug smirk on his face.

Dave continued to hammer into me, his pace brutal to where it felt like he was bruising my insides. I could feel every ridge, vein, and piece of skin inside me as he twitched, indicating his release growing closer, if his louder and more frequent noises of pleasure weren't obvious enough indicators.

The car's windows were glazed with steam, the outside unclear as our sweat-covered bodies moved against each other as he kept thrusting, my moans growing louder as my eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“Feels good, hm?” Dave asked, his finger reaching down to toy with my clit, doubling the pleasure as I began to convulse around his throbbing length in much louder moans, my arms reaching out to claw at his back, his head lowerings with his breath on my neck, scattering brief, lazy kisses across my skin.

“Fuck! Im gonna.. Oh god..!” I moaned out, tightening around his pulsing member as he kept ramming into me. Dave applied more pressure to my clit as he groaned out, sensing his own near as well.

“Come for me, baby, all over my cock..” He groaned out with a whine, his lips resuming a messy trail on my neck, licking at biting at the skin as I let out a freakishly loud moan, my walls clenching down hard on his cock with my release.

My back arched, putting our chests together as my eyes rolled back hearing him groan and grumble to himself as he too came undone.

“Fuck yeah.. Gonna paint your pretty pussy white, baby..” He whined against my neck, feeling the thick ropes of his seeds spray all over my insides, coating my own as I let out a pleased and exhausted whimper, and his hips slowly soothed, allowing us to both ride out our orgasms before he collapsed fully on top of me, though not crushing me.

We laid like this for a few moments, panting heavily as our sweat-doused bodies clung together, my one clean leather seat in the back of my car now ruined with our sweat and pleasure.

My hand reached to gently caress some of his long fiery hair, one thing I had wanted to do for a while, ever since I had seen it.

Dave began to relax against me, allowing us to lay in the afterglow of the rough session, our true feelings finally appearing.

After about a minute or two of silence beside our breaths, “You.. you think anyone saw? Or heard..?” Dave asked, not really worried, probably hoping someone did.

I shrugged with a breathy chuckle, “Not sure, but we gave them a show..” I responded, my hand tangled in his hair.

“Mhm.. and you're welcome,”

“For what?”

“I'm just giving you my room service.. You know it more than enough,”

I laughed at his comment, “Room service?”

“Mhm, new thing were doin’. Except the only person doing it is me, and the only one receiving it, is you,”

I felt my cheeks heat a bit at the comment, “Really?” I teased him.

Dave nodded, lifting his head to look at me, “Yeah, and I can offer you it again sometime, hm?”

#metallica fanfiction #metallica smut #j4h7 #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine smut #megadeth fanfiction #megadeth x reader #megadeth smut #dave mustaine x reader smut #dave mustaine fanfiction #dave mustaine x you #smut

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churino · 2 months ago

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Design for Arcee and her drones

Get it? RC Remote control, she's a tactician while on earth

Arcee used to be a teacher's assistant, having a good relationship with ratchet and wheeljack, she cashed in on a couple of favors with them once she got to earth, getting her alt mode heavily modified with all the bells and whistles, she's a nurturing bot but she has her oddities, a wierd girl, energetic and risk-taking, she's super passionate about her interests, namely drones, she knows everything there is to know about them and has a massive collection that dates back to functionist government era.

She doesn't really get the political stuff. She's just really into drones. And is an expert at multi-tasking. the other guys in the tactical division left. Meaning arcee has to do the job of three people all by herself, but she's doing fine, actually

This is thanks to the small slice of her collection that she has brought to earth, 40 individual drones in 4 models all at the autobot's beck and call, most commonly seen are the natron drones, used to create holographic drivers for when the autobots are in public

The natron drones are sold exclusively as a two pack with the freezon drones. These drones are able to project "holomatter" invisible force fields used in tandem with the natron drones to make more realistic ilusions. They were designed by two lovers on opposite sides of the war

A more general use type drone, Fastlane drones do simple labor and repetitive manual tasks, these drones are of velocitronian design, they and a few other velocitronian drone models operate the functions of velocitron that it's population of racers are too "busy" to do

The cloudraker drones, also of velocitron, clean up the pollution that is caused by a race of cars by running ON carbon emissions themselves, similar to earth plants. On earth, they can also shield the autobots from detection by mechanical means. Nullifying video equipment and removing evidence to get rid of the autobot's digital footprint on arcee's command

☝️Just clearning up a misconception, she controls the drones, she's not an rc car herself, she's the batmobile

#transformers #transformers fanart #cybertronian #robot #robots #character design #autobots #maccadam #maccadams #transformers from a to z #arcee #transformers arcee #autobot arcee #autobot clones #freezon #natron #cloudraker #fastlane #minicons

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year ago

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Uselessly Protected | Yandere Black Butler

Zombie Apocalypse AU

The howling sounds of the undead groaning rang through your ears as you adjusted the strap of your backpack. Letting your hand hover over the pocket knife you had hidden, you were acutely aware that you weren’t supposed to have it. But you found that impossibly unreasonable for the state the world was in.

“Birdie? What are you lookin’ o’er there for?”

The light voice of Finny calls your attention to him. Bright-eyed and no longer adjusting the grip of his bat, he’s searching your face for some indication of your drifting attention. You smile at him, shaking your head at your odd behavior hopefully silencing any worry. For Finny it's enough as he waits for you to walk ahead of him down the shadowed path to the vehicle. You move forward, eyes trained on the light illuminating the exit of the alleyway. Slow to leave, you scan your surroundings before darting across the street to the bus your troupe had begun calling home. Knocking a tune from childhood, the bus doors swing open revealing Elizabeth, dressed in the bloodiest, pink zombie armor ever, in the driver's seat.

“Hiya (Y/n)! Finny! How was the run?”

“It was great, Miss!”

You let yourself inside immediately dropping the backpack to the ground, relieving yourself of the hefty load. Hovering over your catch with sweat dripping down your face accompanied by the ache of your back relaxing it, you enviously watched the blond still at the entrance of the bus. Completely unphased by the weight of his backpack, which was already five times bigger than the one you had, he was still joyously conversing with the girl. You always thought his unbelievable strength would be generally unideal in a modern world but with the era of the infected starting anew, he was an asset through and through. Not to mention he was a sweet boy, a little clingy but that word doesn’t mean much since you’ve joined your troupe.

Your troupe weren’t some randos you collected over time, the majority of them were the people you spent your hours working with. Maintaining the mansion, catering to the heir who lived in it, and raising the prodigy to be a decent person. It was a part-time job, miraculously handed to you after you returned the missing prodigy at a young age. A glorified babysitter–that’s what your peers called you; laughing about your gig when you told them what you do. Their jeers weren’t all that bad especially when you could wave your fat paycheck in their face. The Phantomhive family was more influential than one would think, with connections spreading across the criminal world all the way to the English Monarchy. The point is this was a position beyond any average citizen, which meant striving to put your best foot forward at all times if only for your own safety.

This is the only reason why you found yourself in the Phantomhive manor the day the world ended. It didn’t matter that you tried to leave and failed. Those in the manor did not want you to leave so you didn’t. They were a different breed, something made clear by all their reactions to the world turning on its head.

“It was good…that department store is starting to have less and less.” You spoke to the blonde as you unloaded your pack, already missing the discouraged look on her face.

“B-but you shouldn’t worry Miss! Sebastian and the Master are already working to find a new place!”

“Oh…good.”

You appreciated Finny’s attempt to lift her spirits but you feared it was all in vain. When you were allowed to go on trips you could easily distinguish the severe lack of supplies it had originally been the hub for. You suspected another, larger group had found it and weren’t afraid to ransack the place. If that were the case, it could mean there were others who’d be willing to help survive. Others to pull their affection from you.

Having unpacked your bag and finished tying down the supplies in their rightful place, you plop on one of the seats designated as your bed. Nuzzling into the planklike surface of the old bus seat. You tried to ignore the thought of the millions that had previously sat on this nearly months before.

“Why y’all lookin’ so glum?”

“Bard!”

Finny cheered, launching himself into the chest of the cook. Returning the hug the two would begin to excitedly recount the number of zombies they offed. A game they started when they went on supply runs together. Not long after Mey-Rin followed suit, too busy stumbling over the stairs of the bus to speak properly.

“We oughta make an official tally for ya, yes we should!”

“If we did, everyone would see how I’m sweepin’ the floor with ya!”

“That’s not true, it's not! I’m doing better than yous, I did!”

You hummed to yourself almost relaxed by their familiar squabbling, you let your eyes close. Listening to the steps going deeper into the bus before attempting to lightly tap away, you figured they must have figured you were trying to sleep.

So sweet. You almost felt bad tricking them.

“Feeling relaxed, (Y/n)?”

Your eyes snapped open to Sebastian Michaelis who was leaning over you with a knowing smirk. Settling your beating heart with a hand over it, you sat up. Straightening out your position as his red eyes seemed to follow you.

“S-seb, you scared me!”

“How was your run today? Successful and uneventful I hope.” “Yeah, it was okay…”

You trailed off as you crossed your arms over your chest. It was normal for him to probe like this, even before the zombie apocalypse. He’d always catch you alone with this intense look in his eyes that had you demanding all of what he wanted. In a gross way, it was hypnotic. Others who have had the misfortune pleasure of coming across your co-worker would fondly recall his crimson gaze. You could do no such thing.

Especially when it was attached to someone who obviously saw himself as more than you. Challenging your authority, in the guise of being a mere colleague. And of course, as the senior in the workplace, you expected that but not in life in general.

“Reporting Sebastian! It was all clear! Not a single scratch!” Finny explained with a not-a-mock salute, smiling wider as the butler smiled at him.

“Good.” He leaned in closer to you bringing his voice lower. “So why do you need that pocket knife?”

You had half a mind to curse him right then and there but the others were already turned away from you to focus on something else. No use bringing their nonsensical input. You held your ground tucking the folded weapon under you as a deterrent.

“Why not? The world’s going crazy and I have a right to want to protect myself.”

He looked at you like you were stupid.

“Don’t you remember we said that we’d protect you? It’s an insult to our capabilities for you to hold on to something so useless.”

“Be insulted. I’m not who you guys are hired to protect, not to mention there’s no doubt going to be more…stressed scavengers looking for food. With the Department store running low, this weapon may very well save my life.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed at you initiating a silent bout of wills. You held his gaze while keeping a hand on your pocket knife. Knowing him, it wouldn’t be hard to distract you while he swiped it from underneath.

He stopped, tilting his head to the side, closing his eyes in a tight-lipped smile.

“Fine then. For now, you can keep it with you. But the moment we leave this area you’ll be relieving it from your possession.”

With that, he stepped away no doubt to help the on-comers who followed or more accurately clung to the young noble. Soma, a prince who happened to be in the area, was quickly ascending the bus steps hand-in-hand with Ciel. It isn’t long before Agni follows suit, waiting until the both of them were on the bus before shutting the door close, using the snipe to look out the window.

“Come on Ciel! I’ll have to show you all my latest finds. Oh hi (Y/n)!”

“Hi, Soma.”

Ciel went to say something only to be pulled away deeper into the bus. Occupying the cot and pulling back the curtain Sebastian had arranged for him Soma happily dumped the contents of his bag on Ciel’s caught. You turned away stifling your laughter as you could see the red overtaking his cheeks.

You instead watched the way Agni and Sebastian sent speculative glares to something or more likely someone outside. Groping the pocket knife in your hand you hoped you wouldn’t have to use it.

Everyone began to settle down with the falling of the sun, having eaten and barricading the bus’ entryways. You still seemed to have trouble settling down, mostly on the account that Agni and Sebastian were both active.

It was normal for Sebastian to roam at night, he did it often on your overnight stays. Surely, it's been heightened because of the Zombie apocalypse, which demanded his presence be known. This begs the question was he purposely not making himself known before. Agni mirrored him fully tense and prepared to fight in what should have been the safety of the bus.

You were tired but not that tired.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

They didn’t bother turning to you, completely well aware of your creeping steps over the sleeping troupe. Agni spoke first.

“Many of us have been followed by this fellow for a while. My guess is that he’s a scavenger.”

You looked out the window they hadn’t blocked, failing to find whoever he was speaking of. But this was Agni, he’d never lie over something like that.

“Why not rest (Y/n)? We’ll handle them should they attempt to move forward.”

You glared at him or at his silhouette annunciated by his eyes which weren’t looking at you. He was doing it again. This undermining is an overprotective suggestion he’d do before steering you into a corner. A useless corner for the useless au pair.

“Why can’t you trust me, Sebastian?”

His gaze shifts to you, fully focused on you.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Why do you keep pushing me out of the way like I’m not an adult myself? I’m not Ciel, in fact, I help you care for him so why do you act like I’m so helpless all the time?”

You could visualize the smile that was spreading across his face.

“I think you misunderstand my intentions towards you.”

“Am I?”

“You equate my care for you to be on par with that of Ciel.”

“Right?”

“I won’t shy from it, I care for you on an intensely different level (Y/n). Which naturally has me prioritizing your safety, can’t I have that luxury?”

“Not in a Zombie apocalypse you can’t…”

You stole a look at Agni who looked incredibly uncomfortable like a family friend in a couple’s spat. Sighing you turned to Sebastian’s silhouette putting a hand on his back.

“Just believe in me some more okay?... And maybe I’ll appreciate your efforts a bit more.”

With a light pat to the back, you walked over to the ammunition corner taking to doing general upkeep on the arsenal.

Thankfully in the darkness of your shelter, you didn’t have to witness the fumes of obsession spiraling off the butler.

It’s nice to be heard every once in a while.

_____________________________________________________

“Hello peasants, we’ve come to make a proposition for all of you!”

“Who let this idiot into the bus!?”

That was a good question. The blonde noble you only recognized from the various competitions Ciel was meant to attend, was making the declaration while standing on the seats. Ciel was clenching his fists, turning a dangerous shade of red as everyone spoke their piece.

“Well hello there, you look around master’s age, you do!”

“Oh my goodness there’s three of them and they all look the same!”

“No, we’re not.”

“A little bit kinda.”

“Not at all you’re wacked in the head.”

Sebastian was glaring intensely at the boy’s butler, while his maid was smiling at an on-guard Agni. It was an odd dynamic to wake up to. Something that wasn’t solitary to living with them during a Zombie apocalypse,

“You guys let’s all settle down and talk this through.” You gestured to the outside where the streams of the undead limped about. “Which sure beats alerting them.”

“Ahh (Y/n)! You’re still alive! Always so cool! C’mon Claude let’s sit next to them!”

Darting across everyone he was hugging you clinging to your arm as he chose a place to sit, no doubt worsening Ciel’s mood. In direct competition, Ciel took to your otherside slyly slipping his hand into yours.

“Ahem, (Y/n) is right we should attempt to peacefully discuss your intrusion.”

“Intrusion!? How rude! (Y/n) we were in danger and had nowhere else to go!”

“Don’t cling to them like that!”

You sent a look to Sebastian eager to usher everyone into a calmer state. Hopefully you could end this without bloodying your hands.

[Continue?]

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totothewolff · 7 months ago

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Season of Love (7/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

The Color of Truth is Blue Arc Chapter 7: Red flagsss

Italy

You stay off-the-grid that entire weekend to everyone's concerns.

Your phone remains turned off and forgotten on the sofa at Seb's place, kilometers away from you now, as he takes you on a sudden road trip through the Italian Riviera in his 1995 classic blue Citroën DS19.

Knowing the beautiful scenery and brief stops at the Mediterranean towns' gorgeous tourist sites would keep your mind from hurtful thoughts.

And, boy, he was right.

Your mood gets less somber as you two enjoy your gelatos while peacefully walking the Giardini Botanici Hanbury, feeling the fresh breeze from the trees on your skin and hearing the birds chirping around you.

It turns out Seb is full of great love and life advice. He sounds so mature and open about it that it seems new and shocking to you.

How can someone love so freely and so fearlessly?

Seb watches you sigh as you finish packing the clothes you bought and wore during the weekend in your also new suitcase since touring Italy in his clothes seemed like something other than a fit for your aesthetics and ego.

Still, you chose to wear his vintage Monty Python t-shirt with mom jeans for the flight back, as you loved the graphic, its colors, and the fact that it fits you a bit oversized and comfy. It made you feel safe.

—Everything will be fine —he expresses.

—I know —you look at Seb and give him a shy smile, only if he knew.

—Ready, then? —he holds open the door for you.

—More than ever —you answer, and you are.

Hungary

Much to your poor nerves, the Hungary Grand Prix week is finally here.

And you need to meet Pascal on the outskirts of town so he can deliver you the device.

That nervous sensation in your stomach grows as the chauffeur/gunman drives you closer to the meeting point, which is inside the third floor of a decadent and abandoned old building from the socialist era.

It's been more than a decade since last you saw him in person, as he was getting violently pinned down to the floor and dragged away by a SWAT team as you screamed.

His piercing blue eyes and his handsome face were covered in blood coming from a deep wound over his eyebrow from the contact of a fist punch as he whispered a soft and reassuring "I will be fine; you will be fine."

That memory was forever tattooed in your brain, sometimes making you wake up with a cold sweat at night.

As you finish climbing the narrow swirl stairs that once may have been stunning, you open the enormous, washed-down, and scratched-wood double doors. They creak so loud, making the place echo, as the tall, muscular figure of a man looking out of an open, broken window turns your way, following the sound.

Your heart skips at the sight of him; you guess those feelings never truly disappeared.

He watches you approach him with the same expression as your heels clack loudly on the dirty, now opaque, tiled floor.

You rush your pace in the last couple of remaining steps. Reaching closer to Pascal's figure, a smile forms on his lips, expecting you to throw yourself into his arms.

But as you are millimeters away from his body, you slap him so hard, making his head turn. His lip bleeds a little bit from the contact before sinking into his neck as he pulls you in a really tight hug above the ground; your hand caresses his hair and cheek as you lay your foreheads in one another.

—It's great to see you, kid. We don't have much time —Pascal tells you as he places you back to the ground and points to the ankle monitor on his calf with a blinking light. —Inside this is the tracker; follow the protocol precisely as we practiced it, and everything will be alright. You are so brave —he hands you a green Hermes bag. —Go.

You want to talk to him more, say more, and let him know all that happened in your life after him and thanks to him, but he rushes you to leave, not wanting to expose you more than necessary, and for you to return to safety.

You slide your hand down his arm and squeeze his hand as you walk away, letting it go only when he gets out of your reach.

The weather at the track gets damn awful, umbrellas everywhere, grey skies, and all lights on, even if it's really early.

The free practice is a complete mess, thanks to the various puddles and Logan's car pinballing around.

Sam looks extremely uneasy that day under the stern scrutiny from Toto.

—Stop it. You are making me uneasy, too. What's with you? —he asks as Sam nervously moves around.

—Nothing, I don't want Lewis to crash or George to get hurt. That thing with Logan was awful —she lies quickly, as paramedics had to help him out of the car while many "ouchs" from the crowd were exchanged as he wasn't walking alright.

Toto looks at her with a deadly "Please, I'm not stupid" look.

But he lets it go before he overhears; Niki asks her directly as she reaches him. —Have you heard from her?

Sam knows exactly to whom (you) he is referring. —No.

And that's what makes her more nervous than anything. "Please, be ready," she thinks.

Toto raises an eyebrow at the interaction. Is something going on?!

You decide to show up until qualy.

You walk around the paddock and pitline as if following a path, but this is only noticeable if someone is paying you lots of attention, which Charles is.

He catches your step in the middle, distracting you; you cut him as he opens his mouth to say something.

—Not now, later —you look so authoritarian he doesn't protest. —I need to focus. Do you get it? —now you mutter to him, low.

He nods. —Take care, please —is all he says, and he walks away. He is not able to talk to you about what happened at the Gala and about all Seb told him; he only told him the bits Seb knew weren't to be kept.

Toto is there, too, observing your every move. The more he looks and follows you, the weirder it gets.

Judging by the expression you and Charles shared, how nerve-wracking Sam is acting, and how quiet Niki is, there is no way something isn't happening.

Could it be the aftermath of what happened at the Gala? To which he is the one to blame for.

Toto waits for the perfect moment to confront Sam. After the practice ends and everyone moves to the hospitality and headquarters, he notices the blond walking down the corridor of his office in the direction of Niki's. He quickly gets on his feet and follows her around. Sam notices and rushes her pace.

Out of nowhere, he pushes Sam softly against the wall to make her stop. —What's going on? Don't dare to lie to me —he looks dead concerned about it, borderline paranoid.

—It's not my place to tell you —she sadly replies and pushes him away too, roughly, knowing the last time she said those words, she ended up hurting a friend. —Don't push it! It won't work! My lips are sealed —she warns him as she fixes her shirt and returns to work.

—I know I fucked it up —Toto lets out, looking at Samanta's back as she faces the door down the hall as he leans one of his hands on the wall.

Fuck, he sounds so sad, almost wounded. Sam closes her eyes, feeling awful, before taking a step and walking away in total silence.

It's the eve of the Hungarian Grand Prix, and the paddock is abuzz with excitement and anticipation.

It's regular business with teams preparing their cars and mechanics working tirelessly to ensure every engine is revving if it wasn't for the extreme security present this time.

There are not-so-discreet gunmen in different places, catching the attention of some guests and team members.

Fans gather at the circuit, voices rising in cheers. The energy is palpable as everyone eagerly awaits the engines' roar and the tires' screech on the track.

This time, The Hungarian Grand Prix is more than just a race; today, it welcomes a peculiar, to say the least, special guest to participate in the opening ceremony: one political candidate, desperate to be in the spotlight and under the cameras, seizing the opportunity with the upcoming election just weeks from today.

It has been almost a year since your intelligence team confirmed to you that the juicy donations from Hungarian and Serbian accounts addressed to the FIA/F1 were the single most crucial lead to the man you have been hunting for years and years: Jószef Lenkov.

Lenkov had planned to tour the paddock on foot before arriving at the pit lane to participate in the committee during the country's anthem ceremony.

It's your only opportunity in decades to approach him, and you can't miss it. Your entire team and life depend on it; it's personal.

You feel sick to your stomach as you watch Lenkov and his entire entourage arrive. After all these years, he is there, in person, just meters away from you, as in one of your nightmares; there he is, the reason behind all the suffering in your life and the ones you love.

Even if you now have a different name and aspect and are being protected and monitored, a lingering fear is still deep in you.

You were just a child the last time you saw him.

God, how much you despise that man, how much you want to succeed in bringing him down, how much you want him gone for good.

You start casually walking closer and around them, near the distance but not enough to be noticed by all those guards protecting him.

You follow the path that you rehearsed thousands of times.

Everything goes according to plan until you make it to the pitlane on the final and most crucial move.

In a matter of seconds, your vision gets all blurry.

Your ear makes an awful whistling sound, and you feel stabs of pure pain on your right forearm, the one you just got up by instinct to protect you from smashing directly into the glass, which shatters enough to hurt you as you get pushed to the side against the glass barrier where Rolex had an interactive advertising booth for those with a VIP access.

Everyone near you watches the scene in genuine shock as one of the brutal security assholes of Lenkov forces you away from him.

As you approach the older man from behind, you are able to place your hands on his shoulder and just above his jacket pocket inside that entourage of suited security men as he waves the crowds of militants in the stands supporting him.

Lewis watches, shocked at how little you react to such a violent punch. There is almost no expression in response from you, no wincing, which raises all his alarms.

Samanta tries her best to look as surprised as the rest, and thank God Toto next to her is fuming with rage that doesn't pay her any attention.

Since yesterday, he has been suspicious that something is going on and has followed her closely the entire day, too, so she has remained as far from you as possible.

A lot happens around you as you recover; Lenkov doesn't even bother to turn around or give his attention to the commotion as he gets rushed away from the scene by his team of gorillas guarding him.

Your blood starts spilling everywhere on the pitlane concrete floor; it seems and feels like a deep cut on the forearm.

FIA security holds the violent bodyguard and escorts him out, and aid comes your way.

You compose yourself reasonably quickly.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice your entire team of mechanics and drivers moving towards the guy with killer instincts since everything is happening barely a meter away from your garage entry.

—Anyone who dares to move an inch gets out of this team —you warn them in such a dangerous, deep voice. Something no one has witnessed you do before.

Millie looks at you as you have transformed into someone else, like something buried inside you has come out.

No one dares to move.

You rush to grab one of the mechanics' jackets and tighten it around your arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Paramedics arrive as fast as possible and start working on your nasty wound.

Once inside the ambulance, you instruct them to take you straight to your hotel room against their will; you let them know it's an order, not an option.

You catch a glimpse of Pascal among the crowds near the pit stop. Now, he knows you have accomplished the job because of the smile you give him through the open door of the ambulance, like a lioness before eating her sleep prey.

After getting some provisional stitches and a fresh bandage, you arrive at the Corinthia Hotel.

The white gauze gets redder with every step you take. Still, you hide it well behind the space thermal blanket the paramedics give you, walking as fast as possible, trying to avoid grabbing the attention of the guests in the hotel on your way to your destination.

Drops of blood are on your expensive pink glaze tweed Valentino dress.

You knock on the room you got instructed to, using the signal number of knocks your team told you to.

You quickly enter the large double room once they open the door for you. The curtains are closed, and the lights are on. A team of six guys on computers with tons of cables and some devices wrapped in foil, along with a couple of gunned men, greet you.

An exceedingly handsome, fit man in an expensive Armani power suit sits on the couch, legs crossed, with a drink in his hand.

He turns to talk to you. —We got signal! Now we can trace him —he informs you; he notices you are hurt and instantly gets concerned, and his fierce eyes softened.

Everyone claps as you collapse next to him on the couch. He grabs your once again bloody hand and comes close to kneel in front of you, sharing an intimate moment as tears run down your cheeks, not knowing if it was the emotion of the moment or the pain provoking them.

—You succeeded! I'm so proud of you —Matt rubs a finger on your bruised knuckles and softly kisses them —The tracker you placed on Lenkov will lead us to his current quarters. I will take it from here.

You nod, exhausted.

—You are done more than enough; now I have to play my part —he informs you.

—What?! —you let out as your heart skips.

—If I don't cause a scene, it will raise questions.

—Wait, Matt, it's unnecessary! I don't think they notice; the FIA aren't exceptionally bright...

—You just got slaughtered in our team garage, and you think it is not necessary? —he looks at you with an exasperated face.

—You don't need to show up! I can handle this! I don't require you to intervene! —you enter complete panic mode; you need more time and want more time.

—What you need is a surgeon; that cut seems deep, but they will take you to the hospital now. I will meet you there after visiting the pitlane —Matt ends the conversation right there, his beautiful clear blue eyes looking authoritarian at you.

—Matthew, no, wait! —you know it is impossible to make that man change his mind; once he makes a decision, it gets done. You all live in a world that is his. You know how erratic, spoiled, and unreliable he is.

There it is, the control freak from which you ran away.

Your limbs get cold as you have this conversation, and moving causes you so much pain now, so you let your case rest, knowing there's nothing else you can do.

More tears run down your face, but not caused by the wound; it is your heart bleeding.

Samanta watches Matthew walk past the Mercedes garage's front like she is seeing a walking ghost.

He looks gorgeous, with perfect hair, on-point clothes, and swaggy steps, but this time, he has a lethal gaze.

He tilts his head and looks straight at her for a second. Sensing her eyes on him, Matt subtely smirks at Sam and keeps going.

Sam stays still, watching, knowing everything is about to change.

—All good? —Lewis asks her, concerned, witnessing the interaction.

—Yes, I'm just shocked and worried about what happened! I hope she's doing okay!

—We all do —Niki joins the conversation, looking somber, hands in his pockets. Then, he softly whispers to Sam. —I hope she succeeded.

—Me too —Sam answers, knowing that he knows.

Toto is quiet and reflective in his chair, far from them. Sam does everything possible not to cross his sight and avoids him the rest of the night.

He has many questions and needs your answers.

If you ever want to talk to him ever.

He prays God you do.

That you still want him.

Matthew arrives at the gruesome scene with a group of lawyers, who carry cameras and tablets and start taking pictures and collecting testimonials.

Of course, it is all pretend; your team is about to control the narrative of the events: "It was a non-related security brokerage" is about to fill social media, bots, press, and TV.

The FIA is about to be blamed for having weak security protocols for its people.

Matt is not pleased to see your blood spread all over the pitstop's concrete floors. He feels murderous inside, and he looks like it.

He notices many curious eyes set on him, but he is used to it; a man with his appearance always draws attention anyway.

Schumi walks to him. —Hi, Mr. De Vos. Is Y/N okay, boss?!

—I just got informed she is at the hospital right now getting surgery. I will be by her side soon. I needed to see it first with my own eyes. I can't believe this! —fuck he sounds pissed looking at the "crime scene."

The next day, the stewards were going nuts trying to manage the entire situation, and the busy FIA scheduled a meeting to discuss the violent events with all the astonished team principals.

To reassure them that they were handling the situation and that there was no need for anyone not to feel safe, and to say: "It won't happen again, we swear."

—I didn't know Ken existed in real life! —Otmar jokes under his breath with Mattia and Fred as they all watch Matthew having a call on the other side of the clear glass panel walls outside the meeting room.

All TPs are gathered in a vacant and enormous room, along with some team owners, waiting for Massi to arrive and discuss the gruesome circumstances of the night before.

Matthew enters the room, grabbing everyone's attention and provoking a "Who is this guy?" face on the men inside.

His blonde lawyer waits for him outside just by the door; they both look busy.

That blonde guy looks familiar to Toto. Oh, yeah! It's Sam's brother.

Matthew joins the circle of chairs. —Couldn't they get cheaper ones? —he jokes as the thing squeaks with his weight. He is very muscular but lean, like a model.

Everyone laughs, agreeing.

—We look like we are about to take fucking therapy —Gunther colorfully adds.

Horner chuckles at his comment.

—My name is Zack, and I'm addicted to speed —he teases.

—Hi, Zack! —three of them answer in unison.

—I'm Christian. I'm addicted to winning —Horner jokes, too.

—Mr. Lauda —Matthew greets him, standing to receive a hug from the older man as he joins the group.

—Oh, so handsome as ever! —Niki comments on Matt's good looks and pats his face. Matt doesn't seem bothered by it; he has quite an authoritarian presence and a stern face that could spam from the sweetest thing to a serial killer within seconds, but he smiles at Niki.

—How is she? —Niki asks, concerned for your well-being.

—She went through reconstructive surgery, which took five hours. The glass cut tendons and nerves, so she needs to take therapy to get her movement back. She can't feel pressure or heat on her fingers and has minimal movement on her entire arm.

—Yeah, all sense gets gone for a good couple of weeks —Niki states. He knows the procedures well; he went through some after his crash. —I'm calling her to advise her on how to deal with it; it gets frustrating.

—That would be fantastic. Y/N will very much appreciate your supporting words; she is still shaken by all that has happened.

—And what happened exactly? —Mattia inserts himself in their conversation. Matthew turns to him with a cold expression, a mixture of "you aren't part of this conversation" and "I don't have anything to explain to you."

—According to the FIA, it was just a simple "accident," but my team differs —Matthew answers him with sarcasm and deadpan.

Toto already dislikes Matt. He acts arrogant and entitled. Niki sits beside him, and Massi rushes in, followed by a group of stewards and his assistants.

—Apologies, it's been crazy! Oh! Mr. De Vos, thank you for joining us!

"Mr. De Vos?!" Toto's expression changes from annoyed to surprised as he stares for the first time straight at him, to which Matthew holds his look.

Matt instantly switches personalities as Massi addresses him. His pose goes from relaxed on his chair to dangerous, with one leg resting on his knee. His eyes look harsh, like a wolf about to bite the lamb's neck.

—This can't happen again —he says in the most authoritarian voice, with no greeting. Massi's eyes widen. —This wasn't an accident; it was incompetence from your security, your organization, and yours —Matthew destroys him.

He knows playing with your food is not polite, but he isn't the most successful man in his type of business by being kind or soft. —Bring your PR team. I need to have a word with them —Matt continues.

Massi looks at him, alarmed, but nods, agreeing.

—Now —Matt slowly and softly finishes saying.

Massi nods again and quickly goes out of the room.

—Can we hire you? —Stroll asks Matt in awe.

—You don't have that kind of money —he jokes back.

"Yes, he is insufferable," Toto thinks.

After an extensive meeting, Matthew gives the FIA two months to develop a new and better security protocol, or they will sue.

After receiving many concerned texts and "I hope you get better soon" mentions, you finally replied in the group chat: "I now have a bionic forearm, but it doesn't shoot lasers. Bummer!"

"I have something in my body that shoots too, but neither is my arm nor are lasers," Lando jokes.

Everyone laughs.

During the break that the Mercedes team takes to lunch, Sam visits you at the hospital, and she takes you tons of gifts. She is the only one who is allowed to visit you or knows your location.

Among the gifts is a letter from Toto that you don't dare to open.

After returning from the hospital, Sam joins the girl squad for a much-needed chat.

—He looks fake! It's like the Greeks marbled him —Millie says, checking out Matthew while he talks with a man obstructed by a poster with Sam, Angela, and Brigita beside her.

—He is so handsome! That's some cute, firm bubble booty —Angela lusts for him.

—And you haven't seen him without a shirt; he has abs for days —Sam informs them.

—One can only imagine —Brigita whispers.

Matthew is chatting with Alexi, Sam's brother, behind the sign, obstructing Millie's view until he moves.

As soon as she notices Alexi, she hugs and greets him. —Uncle! —she lets out, throwing herself into his arms, excited as they embrace each other.

Sam joins them against her will. —How lovely! A family reunion, yikes! —she says sarcastically, pretending to hate the thing.

They all candidly talk till Niki and Toto reach them.

—You don't remember Matthew?! Really? Are you sure?! —Alexi looks incredulous at Millie as he asks her.

She denies fiercely with her head.

—But he has been invited to many family gatherings!

—Nope! —Millie then gestures at Matt's body with her hand. —If I had seen this, I would remember it, believe me! —then she turns to him, a bit red on the cheeks. —With all due respect —she adds, and Matthew shrugs, amused.

—Don't boost his ego, please. It's already enormous —Sam rolls her eyes at them.

—No worries! —Alexi addresses his niece. —He is so used to this; a girl once fainted before him. No joking; it happened during our college years. You were so popular with the girls —then turns to face Matthew. —Y/N was the most envied girl on campus —Alexi finishes saying and then looks at the two men now joining them.

—You must be Sam's brother —Toto extends a hand to him, to Niki's right.

—Yes, I am! I have heard so much of you —he says as they shake hands. Alexi looks very friendly and chatty, utterly different from Sam and Matt. It could be more like Millie's genes; maybe it's that part of his family.

—I hope nice things! —Toto jokes.

—Apparently, this gremlin is fond of you —he smirks at a now embarrassed Sam at the revelation.

Alexi is Matthew's lawyer. They have been friends since childhood, since the womb as their families have been close for centuries. Yes, centuries, big old-timey money with insulting fortunes, the kind of money that would make someone sick.

They both studied law at Cambridge at the same time.

Alexi then quickly adds. —You haven't been introduced to each other, right? Matthew, this is Toto Wol..

—I know —Matt cuts him. —We just saw each other at the meeting.

None of them moves an inch to greet the other. An awkward tension is palpable.

—Oh, well, then. Anyway, this "knows it all" is Matthew De Vos, owner of the Williams team and Y/N's husband.

"Y/N'S HUSBAND! WHAT THE FUUUU-!" Toto struggles to play it cool.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter > - A new arc is here with lots to unpack and reveal! Finally, we are getting to more know about her! I hope you liked this chapter, but prepare for what comes next! Read you soon <3

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