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whatifyoulivelikethat · 11 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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lvndosnorris · 11 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 · 2 years 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!”

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kathlare · 4 months ago

Text

papaya on top

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando celebrates a monumental victory, solidifying McLaren's historic season. Amidst the chaos of champagne sprays and cheering fans, a tender connection between Lando and Amelie shines, intertwining their triumphs and affections.

Wordcount: 1.4 k

Warnings: fluff, smau

full masterlist // request over here!

December 8th, 2024 - Yas Island, Abu Dhabi

liked by amelieupdates, f1gossip, and others

f1wagsdaily: Amelie Dayman spotted arriving at the paddock in Abu Dhabi for the final race of the season!

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f1stan99: LANDO P1 AND AMELIE IN THE PADDOCK?!? The McLaren era is officially iconic 🔥 → ameslanlover: @f1stan99 no bc they’re the power duo we never deserved 🫶

mclarenszn: Nah, Amelie’s face during the anthem? She was lowkey holding back tears for him 🥹 → lanfan88: @mclarenszn I saw that too! That look said “I’m so proud of you” omg 😭 → ameliesupremacy: @lanfan88 and when he winked at her?? My soul left my body 🫠

mcloveforever: The photo of them soaked in champagne… I’m not ok. The chemistry is insane 😵‍💫

wagswag84: She’s so iconic, she could literally just stand there, and people would still scream. → oscarpls: @wagswag84 no bc that’s exactly what happened in the garage yesterday. She’s a literal magnet.

papayaqueen: NOT LANDO WINKING AT HER ON THE PODIUM 😭😭 He’s such a simp omg. → amelie_stan: @papayaqueen he literally has no chill when it comes to her, and I love it. 💅

itsgivinghater: Okay but why is she even there tho? 🙄

wagslove: She’s giving main character energy every time she steps out 🖤 → f1editsdaily: @wagslove THAT’S WHY SHE’S THE IT GIRL

f1fanatic22: Amelie showing up and looking like that? Girl, HOW is she so effortlessly iconic? 🔥 → mclarensupremacy: @f1fanatic22 bc she's Amelie Dayman, duh. Queen behavior only 👑

lando4worldchamp: This man just won the race AND the Constructors’ Championship, and he’s got her waiting for him? Lando is literally living a rom-com 😭

lilyandamelie4ever: Lily and Amelie in the garage together?? Name a more iconic duo, I’ll wait. → racingtwinzz: @lilyandamelie4ever their friendship feeds my soul ngl 🫶

--------------

The roar of the engines was drowned out by the deafening cheer from the McLaren garage as Lando Norris crossed the finish line in first place at the 2024 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Amelie’s grip on Lily’s hand tightened, her heart hammering in her chest. The emotions were overwhelming, a cocktail of pride, excitement, and something deeper that made her chest swell as she watched Lando take the checkered flag, his McLaren a blur of orange ahead of the pack.

—Oh my god,— Amelie whispered, her voice barely audible over the celebration in the garage. Lily, standing next to her, was equally overwhelmed, but there was a quiet confidence in her that made Amelie smile. Lily leaned in closer, her eyes still fixed on the track.

—I’m going to go look for Oscar. He’ll be buzzing right now,— Lily said with a smile, squeezing Amelie’s hand before letting go and stepping towards the door.

Amelie nodded, though her eyes were still locked on the screen where Lando’s McLaren was doing its victory lap. She felt a tear escape as she watched him, the emotions finally breaking through the walls she’d built around them. He had done it. He had won. Not just the race, but the Constructors' Championship for McLaren, and finished second in the Drivers' Championship—a historic achievement that had eluded them for so long.

But it wasn’t just his victory that made her heart ache. It was the fact that she got to share it with him, after everything they’d been through since they first met at the 2019 Mexican Grand Prix. From the playful teasing and shared moments to their deep connection that had blossomed into something undeniable.

Tears blurred her vision, and she wiped them away quickly, blinking as the UK national anthem began to play in the distance. It was a moment she would never forget—watching him stand there, in the limelight, a beacon of success, pride, and joy.

Amelie’s eyes scanned the podium and when she saw him, Lando’s gaze shifted through the crowd, locking onto hers. His face broke into a grin, and he gave her a wink, followed by a teasing smile, as if they shared a private joke no one else could understand.

Her breath caught, her heart thudding in her chest as she leaned forward slightly, a small laugh escaping her lips. He had spotted her, and in that moment, the world felt like it was just the two of them.

The podium ceremony ended, and the crowd around her erupted with cheers. She didn’t even realize she was crying until she reached up and wiped away more tears. She needed to see him.

With a final look towards the podium, Amelie turned and made her way towards the McLaren team hub. She could feel the atmosphere buzzing with excitement as the team celebrated their victory. She made her way through the sea of people, her heart racing.

When she finally reached the driver's room, she was there alone for just a moment, pacing slightly, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Then, the door opened, and there he was—Lando, fresh off the podium, looking like he had just stepped off a dream. His suit was unzipped, his hair slightly tousled, his face flushed with the exhilaration of victory.

—Ames,— he greeted her with a grin, and before she could even respond, he was pulling her into his arms.

She didn’t waste a second. Her arms wrapped around him as she pressed herself against him, breathing him in. —You did it, Lan! You were amazing,— she whispered into his chest.

Lando chuckled softly, a hand coming up to cup her cheek as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. —Couldn’t have done it without you, Ames,— he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

Amelie looked up at him, her eyes full of admiration. —I’m so proud of you,— she said, before kissing him fiercely. The kiss started strong, full of pent-up emotion from the entire season. But as their lips met, the passion deepened, and it quickly became more urgent. Her hands found their way to his neck, and his own hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer.

Before either of them knew it, Amelie had climbed onto his lap, straddling him as their kisses became more frantic. She could feel the heat of his body, the lingering taste of champagne on his lips, and the way he made her feel like the only person in the world. His hands slid to her back, pulling her even closer, making her heart race faster.

—You taste like champagne,— she murmured against his neck, and Lando’s laugh was low and teasing.

—Yeah? You’re a little too good at that, Ames,— he teased, his voice a little breathless.

But before they could go any further, there was a knock on the door, and a voice from the outside interrupted them. —Lando, you’re supposed to be at the interviews now. You’re already late.—

Lando groaned, dramatically falling back against the chair. —Can’t a guy just enjoy his victory without being interrupted?— He muttered under his breath, clearly frustrated, but still managing to keep the grin on his face. He looked at Amelie, who was still perched on his lap, and for a second, neither of them moved.

—You’re lucky I love you,— he said with a wink, his voice low and playful.

Amelie rolled her eyes, but she didn’t mind the interruption as much as he did. —Go on, Lan. They’ll be waiting for you.—

With a heavy sigh, Lando pulled away, helping her off his lap. —I’ll make it up to you later,— he promised, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Amelie smiled as he stood up, adjusting his racing suit. —You better,— she said with a teasing grin.

As Lando left to do the post-race interviews, Amelie walked out of the driver's room and found Lily, who was waiting outside. —He’s gone for interviews,— Amelie said with a shrug, her smile wide.

Lily raised an eyebrow. —So, that was that,— she said with a smirk, clearly amused. —You two are a real piece of work.—

Amelie laughed. —Shut up,— she said playfully, but the blush creeping onto her cheeks betrayed her.

A McLaren staff member approached them, handing each of them a championship T-shirt and cap. They both chuckled as they put the oversized T-shirts over their dresses. —Looks a bit ridiculous, doesn’t it?— Amelie said, pulling at the fabric that hung loosely around her waist.

Lily laughed, giving her a quick hug. —It does—

They made their way back to the McLaren garage, where the team was getting ready for their final photo. They stayed behind the cameras, watching as the team gathered around, with Lando and Oscar finally joining them after the interviews. The energy was electric, everyone buzzing from the win, and when the team saw Amelie and Lily watching from the side, they began shouting for them to join in.

—Get in here, you two!— Lando yelled, his voice carrying over the excitement of the moment.

With a laugh, Amelie walked forward, awkwardly joining the group as Lando and Oscar made teasing faces. The team erupted into laughter, and Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close for the photo. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. —You look hot in my color, Ames,— he whispered, making her cheeks flush.

—And you’re not too bad yourself,— she teased back, her voice low and playful. The chemistry between them was undeniable, even with everyone around them celebrating.

The final champagne spray hit them both, and Amelie couldn’t help but laugh as the bubbly soaked her. Lando, ever the flirt, looked at her with that teasing smile she loved so much. The team, caught up in the celebration, sprayed even more champagne in the air, and Lando pulled her close again, stealing one more kiss before the night was over.

It had been an unforgettable season, and in that moment, everything felt perfect.

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oofthwoods · 1 year ago

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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?

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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 · 6 months ago

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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?

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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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angsthology · 1 year ago

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“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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yourlocalsmutwriter · 3 months ago

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This year, I want to be a wetter, I mean better person - Mark Webber x reader

cw: age gaps (reader is in her 20s, Mark is in his 40s), perv! Mark, semi-public, squirting, author loves dilfs and hopes that one day dilfs will love her too

Whichever spirit possessed your parents to decide to move to the middle of nowhere, England was a hidden blessing. It may not have seemed that way when you had to endure their company for the 4 hour drive from the airport or when you knew that there was no one fuckable for miles. Not that you could get down and dirty under a family roof, whether it was somebody else's or your own. Nothing more haunting than staring down at the lone poster of Fernando Alonso from his Renaut era on your hideously painted walls while cumming. Or, more accurately faking an orgasm. So you spent a nice, festive Christmas Eve and Christmas in your new family home. Catalogued everything that went wrong in your life to land you in this position from the 26th onwards. Actually explored the town and found that at least 1 bar (as if it would have more than that not on the main street) was open on New Years.

Your parents were not party people. By 8, they had tucked in on the couch and were yawning through a holiday concert of some Dutch guy. You shimmied into the one presentable dress they had seemed to pack from your childhood home. "Conveniently," your cute clothes were in storage, and the owner was somewhere in Dubai at the moment. So you have to make do with this black piece. It's not your first choice. But at least the fact that you had grown some tits since being 18 a few years ago was comforting. You pass your parents by with a promise to not be long now. Being met with a sleepy "Don't worry, sweetheart." you know that they're going to sleep through the fireworks anyway.

To nobody's surprise, the bar isn't crowded. The raging bull is in a pathetic state. Some top 40 hits radio station is playing. The floor is sticky. The bartender looks like he's your parents' age, and it doesn't seem like he knows just what goes into your favorite Long Island iced tea. You sit down and ask him to keep pouring you rum and cokes until either he runs out or your wallet is empty. You sip his very boozy concoction slowly, as you're texting your friends. Complimenting their party fits. Asking details about potential hookups. Looking at pictures of their pets in ugly sweaters. As midnight draws near, someone else actually gets inside the bar. You look up and see a pair of green eyes and holy shit, it's a holiday miracle. It's Mark Webber. 9 time GP winner. Manager of your current favorite driver on the grid. Ultimate celebrity crush, Mark Webber. With the grace of a newborn giraffe, you slide out of your chair. You don't want him to see you, but at the same time, you need it to survive. There goes your cover of not knowing who he is. Now, the bar name makes sense. It all aligns like a jigsaw puzzle. The car themed coasters. The signed cocktail napkin framed on the wall. The only “fancy” drink on the menu being named the Aussie grit.

After you not so subtly go to the bathroom to reapply your lipstick and try to work wonders with a mascara wand, you go back to your place at the bar. Only Mark is next to you, bendy black straw into his namesake cocktail.

"Look, I don't know how much they paid you to tail me here, but I can double it." he says, and you're confused.

"You're some kind of journalist or something.” You shake your head, still too stunned that he's here, talking to you.

“Don't tell me you're just some big city girl whose boyfriend brought her to meet the parents, and now you're single because you found him groping his cousin. Because, believe me, that romcom's more of a staple than you think." He continues.

"Wow, how bad is this town that a young woman in a bar on NYE is news. My parents moved here in April. I'm visiting them for the first time. And so far, I haven't encountered any guys, much less the ones that think the best part of waking up is Folgers in their cup." You explain.

"Are your folks the couple who hate each other but are always bragging about their daughter's graduation in March?" Mark guesses, and you are once again stunned by just much this small town gets to people. Not only does a man that's starred into many of your wet dreams know your parents. No, that's not enough, he also knows they're not the perfect relationship role models. You can't help but wonder if it's hereditary and also the reason you haven't brought home a partner. Pushing that to the side, you reply to him with

"Just the ones.”

"You know your dad thinks we're best friends, and your mom keeps asking if I can hire you at Porsche or McLaren." He says and suddenly all the facetimes with your parents come back to you. The man with a very nice house who they invite over for tea sometimes. The one that's been a little under the weather lately. The one who drives a sports car to the center.

"You're motorsport Mark? Of course you are. Be grateful that you don't have any kids my age because I'd practically be your daughter in law too." You speak before you think, momentarily forgetting about the man's wife and kid. Then you wonder why he's out here with you and not back at home. You're inching to ask, but there is no way to say “are you divorced, and if yes, can I ride you into next year, please?"”. Especially after he hits you with a reminder of why that's a bad idea.

"You should be happy that your parents are proud of you, sweetheart. And that they want you to stick around with them here." He says.

"If I was, wouldn't I be about to watch the fireworks with them?" You ask.

"Still some time until that, isn't it? Wanna make it count?" He replies to your question with a question.

You agree, and there's two more Aussie Grits on the bar. The bar tender also places two laminated sheets of paper and two markers in front of you. The comic sans text on top says "New Years Resolutions" and the neat little lines give you 5 rows to write in.

"Sick of hearing us talk, aren't you?" Mark asks the other man, and the latter just grunts.

"Bet I can write mine before you finish your drink." The former driver says, clearly still a speed fiend. You shake on it, and you start chugging the strong drink. Meanwhile, he's adding chicken scratch sentences to the A4.

He beats you, and to his credit, all his resolutions are thought out and personal. You're happy to see that he's put "do more for Oscar" in there and giggle at the "post more on Instagram?". While you're still reading, he's busy gloating, making fun of you for not learning the most important thing in college - how to hold your liquor.

"What, like you could do any better. Mark, I'm surprised you're standing after the drinks you already had. I bet that I'll have to see you get locked in here till the morning for your own sake." You say, both posing a challenge and remembering the "beauty" of some more traditional British pubs. You hope that the one booth you see is at least comfortable. He doesn't back down, and you're on the clock, writing down what you want to accomplish in 2025. But your brain is buzzing from the drinks, from the way liquid is dripping down Mark's chin and onto his pants, by the fact that you're a horny drunk and the unavailable dilf next to you is too delicious to pass on. You lose, unsurprisingly. Handing over the list, you absent mindedly say

"You know I wouldn't mind your help with the last one, I'm sure you can make it happen, wink wink, nudge nudge.". You're referring to the item "attend my first grand prix," a dream of yours since getting into the sport. But apparently, in the rush, you had added a more nsfw goal under it. Because the item on your list that ended it prematurely was, in fact, "squirt for the first time.".

"You wanna double-check your work before saying things, sweetheart. " he asks, and you're mortified when you do. You start apologizing and gathering your things to leave. Mark places a strong hand on your bare thigh to stop you.

"I never said I wasn't going to do it. I'd be glad to. I'm just making sure that here and now is the place you want to bring this up." He says. Your jaw drops, and you're like a fish out of water.

"Aren't you married?" You ask. It's not the first that you thought would come out of your mouth. Yet, you have to hear him say it.

"Divorced. Technically, in the process of, but no ring. Empty house, and a cold bed. Only my left hand for relief." He says and you're picturing Mark pumping his cock in his fist. You cross your legs and clench your thighs slightly, which doesn't go unnoticed by the older man. He moves his hand and spreads them.

"And you, sweetheart? Do you have some secret boy toy to make your switch into adulthood more fun? Or a nice pretty girl like yourself that you've been shaking up with since your dorm days?" He asks.

"No. Same as you, but I use my right hand. My clit's too sensitive if I switch up my technique." You say, hellbent on making that man go crazy for you.

Mark looks around and tips a crisp 50-pound note from his wallet. You can't help but notice the little blue wrapper peeking out of the Italian leather. He calls over the bartender and asks for "2 coffees when we come back." You think the Aussie's going to take you to his car. Have you ruin his custom leather seats and make you lick up your mess as punishment? You guess he might even take you to his house, not that you have any idea where it is exactly. Ask you to hold on tight as the headboard to his once marital bed slams against the wall. Makes sure your sensitive little clit humps against the pillow as he's fucking you from behind.

But Mark drags you to the men's room instead. Spreads your legs and makes you grab the sink.

"You know I'm a man of few words. And as much as I'd love to start you off with a hands-on approach, I think you haven't earned it yet. So let's show you some videos first, huh?". He pulls out his phone and opens his Google drive. He's got a folder titled xxx and in it is maliciously organized subfolders by years.

"I can click any of them? And I'll see you making a woman squirt?" You say, impressed.

"Never met a girl whose pussy I couldn't make gush. Although I'd stick to the pre-retirement years." He says and you settle on a 2012 video. You know the later ones probably feature his ex. But this one stars a faceless blonde, all curves and moans. You squirm when Mark smacks her ass, watching it jiggle. You keep your eyes on how his tongue slides between her folds. You try to ignore how he's rolled up your dress and is just staring at your underwear. Watching it get wetter and wetter. You're too preoccupied with younger him to ask for his touch now.

The next video is a brunette, with pierced nipples and a possible disdain for Mark. That's gone when he slides into her, fingers pinching her clit. He makes her come too, and the next one and the one after that. You've seen enough. You turn and find him eye level with your cunt, long legs bent into a squat. He may be more than a decade older than in the video, but an old dog doesn't stop learning new tricks.

"Mark, I need you, please." You beg, beyond ready to be treated like one of his "little starlets" from the spank bank. You wonder if he'd film you too. Have your pussy soaking his cock in your juices as a memento of your time together.

"How do you want me, sweetheart?" He asks.

"Need you to fuck me, want to feel your cock inside of me, please." You moan out. And he's a perfect gentleman, because he promises he'll give it to you.

But first he slides his fingers to the front of your underwear and two of them are on your clit, rubbing. Maybe it's because of his height, that the length has spread even to his limbs. Maybe it's the dexterity, the sheer speed of his movements. Usually you'd prefer it starting slow, and building up. But with Mark, it was all climbing, starting at a 100 and moving towards 200 and above. Your hips are bucking against him, searching more. He slows just for a second in order to thrust two fingers inside of you.

"Look at you, already a mess. Did I get you so rilled up, sweetheart. Does this old man do it so much for you?" He asks and smiles as you can only groan and beg for more. He's not someone who draws out things, so he tells you to keep it up for him as he opens the condom package. He watches you whine that your fingers don't feel as good, that they aren't enough.

"Oh sweetheart, just you wait. You're going to be ruined." Mark says as he feeds you just the tip. He makes you take your hands off, replacing them with his. He thrusts up, matching his movements on your clit.

"It's too big, please." You say. Were you asking him for more or to stop? Your body seemed to favour the latter , because you were practically dripping on the bathroom floor. Mark uses his other hand to bring you closer to himself, his shallow thrusts pumping deeper and deeper. He's hitting that spot in your body, the one which you didn't even know existed.

"Be good and cum for me, will you, sweetheart? I don't have all night. So unless you want me to drag you out like this and fuck you on the town square under the fireworks, you better let go." Mark says. He does miss how tight you get around him when he talks like this. He continues, telling you how good you make him feel and how he can't wait to see your pretty orgasm face.That's what tips you over the edge. They're tears coming out of your eyes, you're pretty sure you're drooling and Mark's cock is indeed soaked with your juices. You can hear the obnoxious squelching of his last few thrusts, before he also comes.

He's still inside you when your alarm rings, the sound coming from your purse, long forgotten on the floor. You scramble to turn it off.

"One minute to midnight. Well, it's more like 20 seconds now." You announce. Mark takes your face in his hands (still slick with you) and kisses you gently. He doesn't have the heart to tell you that this is the first kiss he's had all year. You don't have the heart to tell him the same. All you know is that your return flight might be rebooked to a later date. You finally found something interesting to do in your parent's new town.

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 x you #f1 imagine #mark webber x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber smut

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m1lkywaywritey · 1 month ago

Text

Designated driver

Relationship: Mikey way x afab reader (written with this ^ mikey era in mind but nothing is explicitly said so you can imagine whatever :))

Tags: drunk sex, drunk confessions, alcohol consumption, partying, car sex, riding, vaginal sex, happy ending

Summary: Mikey way always takes such good care of the reader even if it means giving up his night of drinking just to drive her home. He knows that he shouldn't fuck her when she's drunk but when it comes to it can he hold himself back (he cannot btw) - AFAB reader, use of y/n

A/N: Heyy I had food poisoning while writing this so I was quite literally, writing a paragraph, vomiting then writing another and vomiting again. Therefore if any of this doesn't make sense that'll be why lol.

Word count: 2204

Fic under cut - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were far beyond tipsy as you downed your sixth shot of the night - not counting the three strong drinks you'd had between.

The party you were at was completely packed and you'd hate to be the host in the morning. You were feeling great - singing karaoke and dancing around with everyone. Mikey however was not enjoying himself. He drew the short straw and was crowned designated driver for the night.

You spotted him lurking in the corner of the room, diet coke in hand, looking miserable as ever. You danced your way over, a drunken smile spread over your face that seemed to infect him as he looked up to see you.

"WHATS UP MIKESSS" you shouted over the music.

"Nothing much, are you having fun?" he replied at a normal volume, showing you that you infact didn't need to yell.

"Yeah tons!!! What's got you down in the dumps?"

"I am not "down in the dumps" for your information" he said defensively with air quotes around the phrase you'd used.

"I don't knowww... looks like it to me" you said, perhaps getting a little too close to him for comfort - you were far to drunk to care. You were also far too drunk to notice the blush across Mikeys face as you had your hand on his arm.

"Shut up" he chuckled, laughing of his awkwardness. You grabbed onto his wrist and started weaving him through the party, "Y/n where are we going?"

You neglected to reply until finally you were in the kitchen, rummaging around the makeshift bar on the counter. "Pouring myself another shot obviously dummy" you stuttered and slurred over your words slightly and this didn't slip past Mikey.

"Do you really think you need another shot?" He laughed like he was joking but you could sense a hint of worry.

"Okay Mr judgemental, are you sore because you're not drinking tonight"

"No, I'm sore because someone doesn't know their limits. I think we should take you home"

"Aww come on mikes, wheres the fun in thattt" you whined, giggling at your own defiance.

"Walk over to me in a straight line right now"

"I am NOT doing that"

"What because you can't?" He said shrugging sarcastically. No matter how badly you wanted to wipe that shit eating grin of his face and prove him wrong, it didn't stop you from stumbling into the kitchen counter (twice) then almost to the floor. That would be if Mikey wasn't there for you to fall into. As he caught you he guided your arm up over his shoulder and placed his hand around your waist. "I fuckin told you so-"

"Shut up" you said, trying to sound serious but ending up laughing with him about how drunk you were.

He walked you out to his car, carefully placing you in the passenger seat before walking around to the drivers side. You couldn't help but watch him as you thought about how good he was to you. He gave up a night of partying to make sure you got home safe, took care of you, drove you there and back, made you laugh, made you confident, was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on and he was so damn good looking.

Your daydreaming and crushing was abruptly interrupted "What are you thinkin about?" He asked accusitorially.

"Nothing!" You blurted out - maybe a tad too quickly, not helping your case at all.

"Sure" he said, clearly not believing you.

Silence lingered in the air after that. You were embarrassed that you were caught daydreaming about him and he was wracking his brain for what you possibly could've been thinking about. *Could she've been thinking about me? No way, and even if she was she's totally drunk, wake up man you've got no chance*

As you pulled up to your drive, neither of you dared to break the silence you'd built. Right as you were about to speak after building up enough courage...

"I-"/"I-" you both started at the same time.

"Sorry" mikey said laughing it off, "You first."

"I..." you tried to get your words out as Mikey waited patiently, looking into your eyes intently, "I just-" your head was almost spinning from nerves (and probably the alcohol too)

*Fuck it* you thought as you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a sloppy kiss. You felt so much relief when he began to kiss you back but this was short lived as he pulled away.

The alcohol on your breath had snapped him straight back into reality. "Y/n you're not thinking clearly, let me take you inside." You could understand why he felt like this - of course he didn't know how long you'd been pining over him.

"Don't you want me?" You said, you knew that was a cruel thing to say in the moment but you knew what you wanted and you were set on getting it.

"Of course I- Its just- You're drunk I don't wanna-" with every excuse he attempted to make you inched closer to his face, your eyes flicking between his lips and his eyes. By the time you had reached his lips, the excuses were few and far between, coming out in mumbles when you paused to take a breath. "We shouldnt- Are you sure-"

It's like his logic and body were fighting, still trying to reason as he pulled you over into the drivers seat to straddle his lap. He let out a muffled moan into your mouth - that's when you knew his body had won the fight. You pushed your body up against him, all your senses were heightened due to your intoxication. He leaned forward, one arm around your waist and the other reaching under the seat, pulling the lever to slide the chair all the way back.

With your newfound room, his logic and reasoning out of the window and you on top of him, he let his hand roam your body. Palming your boobs from under your top, and your ass through your jeans. You noticed his hands liked to rest on your waist, occasionally pulling you down to grind on him - desperate for some friction on his cock.

You continued to let out sweet whines as you felt his hardness grow between his legs. "Fuck- Do you- mmm- do you have a condom" you managed to get out between kisses.

"Glovebox" he replied, you clearly weren't in your right mind because instead of teasing him for having condoms you knew he'd never need, you turned around and reached for them without hesitation. While grabbing them mikey undid your jeans for you and started to shuffle them down your legs.

Once they were pooled ar your ankles you kicked them off and worked on undoing mikeys belt and trousers while he ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth. Your stomach did a little flip at the sight of him doing it. And it did an even bigger flip when he pulled out his aching dick - already leaking slightly with precum - and rolling the condom down over it, wincing at the contact.

"Fuck" you whispered staring down at it - jaw slack. It wasn't huge but it was definitely bigger than you had expected. Mikey smirked a little, quietly proud of your reaction to his size. He reached down to your underwear, pulling it to the side, so you lifted your hips to hover over him - letting him guide himself into you as you sunk down. Both your faces contorted with pleasure as he pushed all the way in - staying still for a moment as you tried to get used to the overwhelming sensations.

When you were ready, you lifted up your hips before plopping back down onto him - both of you groaning as you did. Gradually speeding up, the sound of flesh slapping filled the car and you could tell you were shaking the car at this point. God forbid someone walk past but you were to drunk (from alcohol but also on Mikey) to dwell on the thought for long.

Yours and Mikey's moans and whimpers grew louder as you picked up the pace. Mikey's hand roughly gripping your waist and fucking up into you - meeting you half way as you sunk down allowing him to access a whole new spot inside of you. Locked in a passionate kiss you cried out into his mouth in pleasure.

"Oh my god-" he mumbled almost growling. It was a voice you'd never heard mikey use before - gritty like he had just woken up but much more raw and needy. "Youre so fucking tight- Feels so good baby-" you could get used to this new voice.

"Please, Mikes-" you whined out "Don't fucking stop-" You were so fucked by this point you let him take the lead - thrusting into you while you writhed against him weakly, letting the pleasure overtake you.

You leaned your head against his for a moment of support and caught a glimpse of his blown pupils and lust filled eyes. The look of desire he had pulling you closer to the edge. "Fuck- Right there baby- I'm gonna-" you managed to get these few words out before you began to see stars, throwing your head back in pleasure, letting your orgasm wash over you.

The way you spasmed around him during your climax, threw mikey over the edge with you letting out grunts, whimpers and whispers of your name as he shot his load into the condom - silently wishing he could cum inside of you instead.

Your heavy breathing pattered out and you lifted yourself off him, still sat in his lap, leaning back on the steering wheel. A smile plastered across your face, giggling as you felt on top of the world.

Mikey, however, didn't share this joy. He just felt overcome with guilt - like he had taken advantage of you in some way. He sat ashamed with his head in his hands before he decided he still needed to take care of you properly. He tied up the condom and chucked it in the makeshift bin bag he had in the back of the car. He did his trousers and belt back up and peppered gentle kisses along your jaw and neck and whispered "I'm so sorry..."

"Hey Mikes don't worry about it I wanted this for ages" you said trying to lighten the mood - not realising how bad he felt. "Don't worry, I love y-"

"Don't say that Y/n... please not right now" you were confused by his response but you decided not to argue with him because you were far too tired now. He lifted you back over to the passenger seat and helped you get your jeans back on before walking around to help you out of the car. You fumbled to find your keys and passed them to mikey so he could unlock the door. He walked you upstairs to your room and helped you change into your pyjamas. You could only think about how gentle, patient and loving he was being.

He got you into bed then got up to leave, "I'm sorry Y/n" you grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Mikey please stay the night"

"I- Y/n I don't know if that's a good idea..."

"Please" you persisted.

"I- okay" he huffed, giving in. I mean he couldn't feel any worse than he already did about the whole thing, what's an innocent sleepover going to change. He got out of his jeans to get comfortable, leaving his top and boxer shorts, and crawled into bed with you. He tried to keep his distance - however realised it didn't quite work when he woke up in the morning entangled in your arms.

You hummed waking up around the same time and looked up at him through your lashes - only to find he was already smiling down at you. He quickly averted his gaze, scared to look like a staring creep, but you found it quite endearing. "Hi Mikes." you muttered in a sleepy voice.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He responded, sounding equally tired.

"Got a headache but I'm alright."

"Do you want me to go get you some water?"

"No I just wanna stay here for a while" you said letting out a sigh and relaxing your head further into his chest. It felt so right, it was perfect. The two of you stayed cuddling for a little while after that until Mikeys guilty conscience got the better of him and he had to break the silence.

"Listen Y/n, about last night-"

"Hey hey, listen I don't regret anything Mikey I promise you"

"But it was wrong of me to- yknow and I just-"

"Mikey look at me" you lifted your head to level with him, "I meant what I did and I meant what I said"

"Everything you said?" He asked nervously.

"Everything."

"Even-"

"Everything." You said reassuringly, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek before returning to your previous resting position. A comfortable silence filled the air as you focused on the rhythm of his heart beat. It sped up slightly just before he whispered "I love you too..."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: I don't really like this - I fear I didn't eat with this one chat, anyway thanks for reading!

#mikey way x reader #m1lkyway fics #mcr

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discotenny · 9 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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starsinthesky5 · 9 days ago

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arch my queen, give us songs that feel like joe & songbird. you’re song recs are too good i need this

um. yes?? YES. here is my extensive un-official official playlist for you are in love (if any songs you guys listen to remind you of them, do share!)

aside from every taylor swift love song to exist...here we go:

stay (maurice williams, the zodiacs)

i wanna be yours (arctic monkeys)

heavenly (cigarettes after sex) this is SO their future wedding song.

hunger (ross copperman) another future wedding song.

hey lover (the daughters of eve)

stargirl interlude (the weeknd, lana del rey)

head over heels (tears for fears)

yours (maye)

die for you (the weeknd)

late night talking (harry styles)

good for you (selena gomez, asap rocky)

rollercoaster (bleachers) THIS ONE. THIS ONEE.

fire for you (cannons)

angeleyes (abba)

she looks so perfect (5SOS)

million dollar man (lana del rey)

say yes to heaven (lana del rey)

role model (brent faiyaz)

the boy is mine (ariana grande)

staring (tipling rock)

sure thing (miguel)

perfect (one direction)

space song (beach house)

never in my wildest dreams (dan auerbach)

j's lullaby {darlin' I'd wait for you} (delaney bailey)

I wanna dance with somebody (whitney houston)

love song (lana del rey)

agora hills (doja cat)

adore you (harry styles)

real love baby (father john misty)

heat waves (glass animals)

she will be loved (maroon 5)

saturn (sza)

pillowtalk (zayn)

met gala (gunna)

mr. brightside (the killers

feel it (d4vd)

diet pepsi (addison rae)

shower (becky g)

my love mine all mine (mitski)

into you (ariana grande)

the spins (mac miller, empire of the sun)

lovers (anna of the north)

margerat (lana del rey, bleachers)

must be love (laufey)

packing it up (gracie abrams)

touch tank (quinine) wink wink wink

quarterback (wallows)

espresso (sabrina carpenter)

look after you (the fray)

bed chem (sabrina carpenter)

you keep me up at night (the driver era)

iris (the goo goo dolls)

bmf (sza)

bloodonmyhands (tate mcrae, flo milli)

miss possessive (tate mcrae)

levitating (dua lipa)

warm (ariana grande)

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #yail #yail asks

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churino · 7 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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whiteraven87 · 17 days ago

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Driven by Speed: A diamond among stones - 11. Sad Anniversary

---------

The Unstoppable series

Part 1: A Diamond among stones

Prologue

F1 start

Loss and Pain

Calm after the storm

First victory

Unbreakable

Unexpected blow

The Secret

Beginning of New Era

The Burden of a Leader

Sad Anniversary

Unexpected feelings

Hungry Eyes

The Infernal Race

Kiss from A Rose

I shouldn't

Wicked Game

They would be Proud of You

Unstoppable

This is the Beginning

Epilogue

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Warnings: long (very long) slow burn, age gap (23 years), woman racing in F1, boss/driver relationship, difficult and painful past, death, anxiety,

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11. Sad Anniversary

Past that cannot be forgotten

Monaco, March, a year after Susie and Jack's death

POV Toto

There is no right time to face the past. There are only moments when you realize you can no longer run from it.

The apartment in Monaco. The place that was our home for years. Mine and Susie’s. A place where we spent precious moments with Jack. Now, it was nothing but an empty space. Every time I came back here, something tightened around my throat. Like I was stepping into a life that no longer existed, yet I kept trying to recreate it, knowing full well it was impossible.

The anniversary of their deaths was approaching.

A year. A year without them.

Every second of this year had been a battle. Every night was a struggle with the emptiness that never faded. There are no words to describe longing. It wasn’t just an absence. It was an abyss.

I missed them so damn much. There were moments when the pain was unbearable.

The nights were the worst. The lonely nights.

When the world fell silent, and I was left alone with myself. In the quiet. In the darkness. In the merciless reminder that they were gone. That was when it was hardest to breathe. That’s why I felt best when I had something to occupy my mind.

Work. Racing. Taking care of Miriell.

That was my solace. It gave me the feeling that I was still doing something good, that I wasn’t just an empty shell filled only with loss.

And Miriell… She was everything that simultaneously pushed me to my limits and kept me alive. Stubborn. Full of fire. Relentlessly striving for perfection, sometimes to the point of madness.

Sometimes it drove me insane. Sometimes it made me laugh. More often, it filled me with nostalgia, tenderness… long conversations about everything and nothing. She reminded me that life wasn’t just the past, that the future still existed, that I could still feel, and that I wasn’t alone.

Yet sometimes, in those quiet moments, in those damn lonely nights, I wondered if I would ever learn to live with what was gone. And if I would ever stop being afraid that one day, I might lose her too.

But I couldn’t postpone the inevitable any longer. I had to pack up their things.

I had to move forward.

But… how?

Every object I picked up seemed to weigh more than it should.

Susie’s dresses, still hanging in the closet, carried the scent of her perfume. I closed my eyes, and I could almost hear her laugh, see her turning towards me, fixing her hair, giving me that look—the one full of warmth that always disarmed me.

Jack’s toys… small cars scattered in the corner as if my son might return any moment, run up to me, and start telling me about his latest race. He was so full of life. So full of energy. And now, everything that remained of him fit into a few boxes.

Time had stopped here, but I had to move forward.

But how?

I packed their things carefully, as if an incautious touch could erase the memories imprinted in them.

And then I saw the journal. A small leather notebook.

I knew Susie wrote. I had never looked inside. It was hers. Only hers.

And yet now… I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t not reach for it. The longing won.

I opened it. I flipped through the pages, tracing her handwriting.

Mostly daily notes. Thoughts. Until I reached the last entry.

"I didn’t plan this… but I’m happy. I’ll tell him after the race. I don’t want to distract him now. I want him to focus on the start of the season. But later… I’ll tell him he’s going to be a father again."

My heart stopped. I couldn’t breathe.

"The only person who knows is Miriell. I had to confide in someone. Miriell understands me like no one else, and she was so happy, laughing that it must be a girl. A daughter… Toto would be over the moon."

Susie was pregnant.

Jack was going to have a sibling, and I had never known.

I clenched my fingers around the journal, feeling my body begin to tremble.

I don’t remember when the tears started falling. I don’t remember when I reached for something familiar.

A small car. Jack’s favorite toy. The one he got from Miriell.

I held it to my chest.

And I let myself break.

Monaco, a few hours later

The pain of the day was too much. I wanted to escape this apartment, filled with memories and the words I had read in Susie’s journal…

A pregnancy. A child that never got to be born.

I left.

I walked through the streets of Monaco, paying attention to nothing. I just kept moving, as if that could somehow free me from the weight pressing down on me.

I don’t know how long I wandered. I don’t know how much time had passed before I looked up and realized where I was.

Her apartment building.

Miriell.

She rarely stayed in Monaco. She didn’t like this place. But the next day, we had a flight to the Chinese Grand Prix, so I knew she’d be here.

I hadn’t planned to come. Yet my feet had led me exactly where I needed to be.

I didn’t want to be alone.

Monaco, Miriell’s apartment

She opened the door almost immediately. Her eyes scanned my face, and I didn’t have to say a word. She knew.

We stepped inside and sat on the couch.

I was silent for a long time until I finally spoke the words that had to be said.

“I found her journal.”

Miriell didn’t look surprised. Just sad.

“You knew… about the pregnancy,” I whispered.

She nodded.

“She told me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her lips pressed together.

“It wasn’t my secret to share.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the sting of tears.

“I didn’t know. I never knew.”

Miriell squeezed my hand.

“I know.”

“I was so blind, lost in work, so focused…,” I murmured, lowering my head. “I thought we had time. I thought everything was still ahead of us.”

Miriell shook her head.

“No one is ever ready for loss. Never.”

She knew it too well. So young, yet marked by loss and pain. Still, she endured. She pushed forward, even though I knew how much it cost her. I admired her for her strength, her determination, and her extraordinary sensitivity.

We sat in silence for a long time.

At some point, my eyelids grew heavy.

I don’t remember when I slumped onto the couch. I don’t remember when I fell asleep.

But I do remember something else. The warmth of the blanket she placed over me. The scent of her perfume as she sat beside me.

For the first time in a long time, I fell asleep knowing I wasn’t alone.

His Presence

Monaco, Miriell’s Apartment

POV Miriell

The night was quiet. Outside, Monaco shimmered with a million lights, but inside my apartment, there was peace. I wasn’t expecting him tonight, yet there he stood at my door, his eyes tired, shadowed with pain.

He didn’t need to say anything. I knew what day it was.

The anniversary of Susie and Jack’s death.

I didn’t ask why he had come. I simply let him in.

We sat in the living room. Two cups of tea rested on the table, though neither of us reached for them. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was heavy, but not forced—like we both understood that some emotions couldn’t be put into words.

I watched him. The lines on his forehead, deeply etched by years of responsibility. The way his hand unconsciously curled into a fist, as if he was trying to hold something back, something desperate to break free.

And then he told me about Susie’s journal, about finding out she was pregnant. I had known about her pregnancy, but I had kept silent. I knew it would only deepen his pain back then, so I chose to say nothing.

I watched his fingers tighten against his knee. Watched him close his eyes, as if that could block out the pain. I didn’t know what to say. There were no words that could ease a loss he was now experiencing for the second time. But I could be here. I could be with him.

“Toto…” I began, but he shook his head.

“I don’t know what to do with this, Miriell.” His voice was hoarse, weighed down by exhaustion and something far deeper. “I thought I had… that I had worked through this grief. But this… this feels like…”

He trailed off, the words catching in his throat. I leaned forward and reached for his hand.

“It’s like a wound that never heals,” I finished for him.

He looked at me. His fingers tightened slightly around mine.

I wasn’t someone who let people in easily. I had always relied on self-sufficiency. I had always fought alone.

But with him… With him, I felt like I didn’t have to. Like I had someone in my corner. Someone willing to do so much for me. It was a thought both terrifying and comforting, because I knew what it was like to lose someone. I knew what it was like to build walls around myself, to never feel that pain again. But with him… With him, that wall was beginning to crack.

After a long silence, Toto leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. And for the first time, I saw something in him I had never seen before.

True, deep exhaustion. Not just physical. It was the exhaustion of the soul.

A few minutes passed, and his breathing evened out. He had fallen asleep. I didn’t move for a long while, just watching him.

Toto Wolff — the man who always seemed unbreakable, strong, invincible—now lay on my couch, lost in sleep, as if his body had finally stopped fighting.

Slowly, I stood up and reached for a blanket, gently draping it over him, careful not to wake him.

I didn’t know exactly what this meant. I didn’t know exactly what I felt.

But I knew one thing.

He meant more to me than I was ready to admit.

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NEXT -> 12. Unexpected feelings

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You can find it on Wattpad and AO3:

AO3 link to Driven by Speed. A Diamond Among Stones

Wattpad link to Driven by Speed. A Diamond Among Stones

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