#i wonder how the engine would react...

[lomotunes2008]

I'm just thinking of someone going up to an engine in the TTTE universe and showing them a model train and being like "It's a mini version of you"

[wysteria-bloom]

I have a funny little request, How do you think the baldur's gate 3 companions would react or respond to Tav talking to someone and who ever they are talking to asks them something about a husband/Wife and they point to one of the companions say “Yeah that’s my Husband/Wife right here”, Or Tav greeting the bg3 companions and saying “Hello my beautiful Wife or Handsome Husband how are you today?” Idk I think it would be funny you can either do all the companions or just a few and whoever else you want.

P.S One of the companions has to Karlach pls and thank you. Have a good day/night

↪"Say that again?"

Bg3 companions x reader

Warnings : none that I can think of, if there anything triggering please let me know

A/n : this is such a cute idea !!! Thank you so much for the request and ofc I'll include Karlach it's a literal crime if I don't

Characters : Astarion, Karlach, Shadowheart, Gale, Lae'zel, Wyll, Halsin, Minthara, Rolan, Raphael

▢ astarion

Astarion is mid-sip of his wine when he hears it. You’re chatting with a bartender, mentioning offhandedly, "Oh, my husband enjoys that brand of wine!" The words seem to hang in the air. A moment later, he chokes, coughing as he hurriedly sets his glass down.

"Sorry, darling, did I just hallucinate, or did you actually call me your husband?" He grins, sharp and playful, but there’s something else lurking in his ruby eyes—something softer. "How bold of you. I don’t recall signing any vows, though if they involve more pet names and adoration, I might be convinced."

Despite his teasing, there’s an undeniable smirk of satisfaction on his lips, and later that night, when he thinks you’re asleep, you catch him whispering his name with your last name attatched—testing the sound of it with a chuckle.

▢ shadowheart

Shadowheart stiffens, her hand momentarily pausing over the clasp of her pack as you effortlessly refer to her as your wife in conversation. She recovers quickly, a well-trained mask slipping into place, but you catch the slight widening of her eyes, the way her fingers tighten just a bit.

When the conversation is over, she turns to you, arms crossed, voice a delicate mix of amusement and hesitancy. "Wife, huh? That’s...a rather serious word, don’t you think?" There’s no irritation in her voice, just a quiet wariness.

You lean in and reassure her—tell her it just felt natural—she exhales, her stance softening. "I suppose... it doesn’t sound terrible coming from you." She smirks faintly, then, in a rare show of vulnerability, she murmurs, "Say it again. Just once."

▢ gale

Gale practically beams. He was in the middle of explaining some grand magical theory when you casually referred to him as your husband, and the conversation might as well have ceased to exist. He turns to you with wide, delighted eyes, as if you just handed him the crown jewel of Mystra herself.

"You—you truly think of me that way?" His voice is filled with genuine wonder, his hands twitching as if resisting the urge to pull you into an embrace right there. "I must admit, I rather like the sound of it."

For the rest of the day, he finds ways to bring it up—entirely coincidentally, of course. "Ah, yes, my spouse and I were just discussing that," he’ll say to a trader. Or, "Well, as my beloved has so kindly pointed out..." He’s positively radiant, and when the two of you are alone, he holds you close, murmuring, "One day, perhaps, we could make it more than just words."

▢ karlach

Karlach lets out the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. One moment, she’s hauling a crate of supplies, and the next, she’s throwing an arm around you, laughing loud enough to startle a nearby bard.

"Wife? You think I’m wife material?" She practically lifts you off the ground in a hug, her infernal engine humming warmly. "Oh, babe, you really know how to make a girl’s heart melt."

For the rest of the day, she won’t stop teasing you. "Hey, love, your wife could use a back rub after all that heavy lifting." Or "Shouldn't a wife get extra rations? I think that’s fair." But underneath the playful exterior, there’s a warmth in her gaze every time she looks at you—like you just gave her something precious she never thought she could have.

▢ lae'zel

The moment the word leaves your mouth—wife—Lae’zel halts. Her expression sharpens, golden eyes locking onto yours with an unreadable intensity. The person you were speaking to wisely excuses themselves, sensing the tension crackling in the air.

She steps closer, head tilting, her voice a low rumble. "You claim me as a wife?" It isn’t anger, but a challenge. Prove it, her tone demands.

You meet her gaze unwaveringly and confirm it without hesitation, she exhales, something pleased flashing across her face. "Hmph. Among my kin, such a title is not spoken lightly. If you speak it, you must own it."

Later, when camp is quiet and you were walking towards your tent, she pulls you aside, her hand gripping your wrist—possessive, firm but there was a softness to it that couldn't be denied. She looked flustered, frowning at you with a twitch of her brow," As your... wife. I demand we sleep in the same tent."

▢ wyll

Wyll is in the middle of charming a noble when you casually refer to him as your husband. The words slip from your lips without hesitation, and at first, he doesn’t react—so well-trained in maintaining composure. Only until the noble left did something warm flicker in his bi-coloured eyes, his confident smile faltering for just a heartbeat.

"Ah—your what?" He turns to you, and for the first time in a long while, the Blade of Frontiers looks genuinely caught off guard.

When you confirm it with an easy smile, he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, as if trying to suppress the warmth creeping up his face. "Well, now you’ve gone and made a man blush," he teases, but there’s a softness to it. A part of him that seems to hold onto the word like a cherished melody.

Later that evening, when the two of you have a rare quiet moment, he leans in, his voice lower, more earnest. "You really see me that way?" His hand finds yours, thumb tracing circles against your palm. "Because I could get used to that."

▢ halsin

Halsin is kneeling by a wounded animal, murmuring a quiet spell of healing, when the word husband leaves your lips. It’s said so casually—to another druid, in passing—that at first, he doesn’t seem to react.

But then, as the spell finishes, he turns to you, golden eyes warm with something deeply affectionate. A slow smile spreads across his face, creasing the corners of his eyes. "Husband," he repeats, testing the weight of it, his voice rich with amusement. "That is… a title of great commitment. And yet, hearing it from you, it feels as though it has always been true."

There’s no teasing, no hesitation—only an earnest kind of joy. He steps closer, brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch feather-light. "If this is how you see me, then I will wear the title with pride." His voice drops to a low murmur, meant only for you. "And should you ever wish to make it more than words, I will answer gladly."

From that moment on, he often refers to you in kind—my heart, my love, and, on particularly affectionate days, even my wife/husband/mate. It is not just a title to him; it is a promise.

▢ minthara

Minthara doesn’t react at first. Not outwardly. She merely continues sharpening her blade, her red eyes cold and unreadable as you casually refer to her as your wife in conversation.

The person you were speaking to quickly departs, sensing the weight of silence that follows. Then, without looking up, Minthara speaks, her voice dangerously low. "You called me wife."

It isn’t a question. It’s an evaluation. A test.

You confirm it, she finally lifts her gaze to meet yours, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "How bold of you," she muses, setting her blade aside. "Amongst lolth-sworn drow, such words are not spoken lightly. They are a claim. A promise."

She stands, stepping into your space, her presence as commanding as ever. A hand grips your chin—not harsh, but firm. Possessive. "If you call me wife, then you had best mean it."

And yet, later that night, when the camp is quiet and she believes no one is watching, she lingers at your side a little longer. A rare softness flickers in her eyes before she turns away, murmuring to you just loud enough for you to hear—"Hmph. It does have a certain... power to it."

▢ raphael

The moment the word husband leaves your lips, Raphael goes completely still. The conversation you were having with an unfortunate merchant screeches to a halt as the cambion turns his attention fully on you. The air crackles with something dangerous—something deeply, intensely amused.

A slow smirk stretches across his lips. "My dear, I do believe I misheard you," he purrs, voice as smooth as velvet. "Did you just call me your husband? How delightfully bold of you."

He steps closer, red eyes gleaming with something unreadable—pleasure? Possession? The thrill of a game he suddenly must win? He takes your hand, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles. Never breaking eye contact as his lips were curved in that usual salacious smirk of his,"Now, if you are to call me husband, I expect proper treatment. Gifts. Devotion. Perhaps a throne befitting a devil of my caliber."

There’s teasing in his tone, but beneath it? Oh, there’s something else entirely. Later, when no one is around, he murmurs against your ear, "let me hear it again... it sounds so terribly tempting when it falls from those lips of yours."

▢ rolan

Rolan is mid-rant—complaining about some idiot who failed to organise the library books the right way—when you absentmindedly refer to him as your husband. He stops talking. Completely.

His mouth opens. Closes. His tail flicks rapidly behind him, betraying his internal spiral.

"Wha—wait—what did you just call me?" His voice cracks, and he immediately clears his throat, straightening his shoulders in a desperate attempt to regain his dignity.

When you repeat it, casual as ever, he stares at you like you just cast Wish in front of him. "That’s… I mean, I am an impressive partner, but—" He crosses his arms, looking away, his cheeks burning a darker, unmistakable shade of red. "You can’t just say things like that without warning someone!"

But for the rest of the day, he’s noticeably smug—standing taller, magic practically crackling at his fingertips. And if you listen closely, you might hear him muttering under his breath: "Husband. Hah... obviously."

[ariestrxsh]

pervy!bsf!chris x innocent!bsf!reader

᧔•᧓ content warning: smut, innocence corruption, degradation, panty stealing, pillow riding, vouyerism, masturbation, chris thinks about you while having sex with another girl

᧔•᧓ summary: after chris witnesses a private moment you had with your pillow, he steals the pair of your panties you had on

requested/inspired by this ask ᧔•᧓

dividers by @/anitalenia

Creeping

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 |

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"You should have seen her face," Chris told you, the corners of his lip turning up in a conceited smile. Your very experienced best friend was sitting at the edge of your bed beside you, recounting his most recent sexual encounter to you in great detail. "Eyes rolled back in her head while she took it like a little slut," Chris gazed into your eyes, leaning in and wetting his lips.

His seductive stare made your heartbeat quicken, and your body temperature rose. "While she took what like a little slut?" You innocently asked, crinkling your nose. You had a vague idea, but you were dying to hear him say it. "My cock, silly," Chris chuckled at you, nudging you in the arm.

You were a virgin, and Chris knew this. Despite never having had sex, you were very curious about the subject, and it always piqued your interest, the way Chris talked about sex. "Do girls like that? When you call them a slut?" You wondered aloud. "Depends on the girl. Some can't get enough of it," Chris replied, his voice thick with lust.

"I don't know if I'd like it. I mean, I'm not one," you giggled. "Well, I think you really like when I tell you this kind of stuff, so I don't know. You might be a little bit of a slut," Chris teased you, immediately sending blood rushing to your cheeks and a wetness between your legs. "No, I'm not!" You gently shoved him, trying to conceal your embarrassed smile. He could tell you liked it, but you weren't sure if you were allowed to like it.

"You're right. Only a little slut would wanna hear me talk about how I filled up another girl and watched it all drip out," he snickered, watching the way you blushed at his words. You bit your lip, and a micro-expression of desire slipped into your facial features. You couldn't help the way your body was reacting to him.

Chris grew hard from watching your reactions to his escapades, especially because he knew you'd always had a big crush on him, and he knew how much you liked picturing him in such a compromising position despite the fact that you tried to hide it. "You're imagining it, aren't you?" Chris taunted you, reading your body language and searching your features with his blue eyes.

"I am not!" You huffed in response, denying his claim and crossing your arms over your chest. "If you say so," Chris said, remaining unconvinced. "Well, I'm gonna head out. I'm going to see that girl again," Chris responded, getting up from your bed and pulling you into a long hug.

You felt a range of emotions - incredibly turned on by the images he'd just filled your head with, but you also felt jealous and heartbroken. You couldn't help the way you felt for Chris, and you desperately wanted to be the one that he was doing all of those things to. However, you knew he was a player, and you figured he'd only ever go for the experienced girls anyway.

"Stay out of trouble while I'm gone, hmm?" He joked, ruffling your hair. After he kissed you on the forehead, which awakened a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, he took off down your stairs and out your front door.

He got into his car, turned the key in the ignition, and rolled down his windows, letting the fresh air in. He was right about to turn on some music when he patted both his jeans pockets in search of his phone only to remember he'd left it in your bedroom. He sighed, cutting the engine and making his way back up to your house.

He knocked on the door and waited a few moments, but when you didn't answer, Chris decided to let himself in. It's not like he could call you.

He climbed back up your stairs, his heavy shoes hitting the ground beneath him as he hurried. He wandered down your hallway, heading towards your room. He could see his phone sitting face up on top of your vanity through the crack in the door. "Hey, I -" Chris started to say, but as he nearly entered your bedroom, he abruptly stopped and watched in awe.

There you were on your bed, eyes screwed shut, eyebrows pinned together, and lips parted as you straddled your pillow, rocking your hips back and forth. You were using one hand to stabilize yourself on the bed, and the other was clutching your breast through your shirt. A smug smile crossed Chris' face as he peeped on you from the hallway.

His hand immediately flew up to his hard cock, and he started gently palming it as he fixed his gaze on your expression. No wonder you hadn't heard his knock or his voice before he'd nearly walked in unannounced. You were completely immersed in pleasure, grinding away on your pillow.

You bucked your hips faster, reaching up your blouse and gently rolling your nipple between two of your fingertips, unknowingly flashing him the underside of your breast. The boy you were fantasizing about while doing such a vulnerable thing was still staring at you through the crack in the door, mouth wide open and eyebrows raised.

"Oh, fuck," Chris quietly whispered to himself as the scene unfolded before him, reaching into his jeans and wrapping his fingers around his cock. He started pumping his hand over his length, every once in a while, lightly brushing over his tip that was beginning to gush with precum.

Your breath was picking up, your hips were moving back and forth at a faster pace as you felt the wonderful tension in your lower stomach. "Oh, Chris," he heard you hiss as your whole body trembled. You came unraveled, moans unfurling from your lips as you threw your head back. You were completely lost in the throes of ecstasy, your thrashing hips starting to slow to an unhurried grind.

A satisfied smile crept across your face as you glanced down at the wet spot on your pillow case. Chris immediately stopped jerking off, worried you'd look up and see him through the crack in your door. He tucked his erection back into his pants and hurriedly closed his zipper.

You tugged the pillowcase off and threw it on the floor. You pulled yourself to your feet, your legs still feeling weak and wobbly from your intense orgasm. Chris watched as you faced away from him, pulling down your bottoms and tugging off your shirt, discarding them on the ground next to your soiled pillowcase.

He admired your curves, taking in the sight of your perfectly shaped ass and the way it bounced as you walked into your connected bathroom. You shut the door behind you, a click sounding as it latched shut, and he heard the shower kick on. His eyes were drawn to the mess of clothes in the middle of your bedroom floor.

There laid the band t-shirt you'd just had on, the cut off shorts you were just in, and the pink panties you were just wearing. He creeped into your room, leaned down, and picked your underwear up off the floor. They were pretty and silky, and Chris immediately noticed the soaked spot on the front of them.

A faint smirk graced his features as he stuffed them into his back pocket. He was so enamored with what he'd just seen, he nearly forgot his phone, the whole reason he'd come back in the first place. He slipped back out before you had any idea.

Once you got out of the shower, you gathered the pile of clothes. You were about to throw them in your hamper and take them to do your laundry when you noticed an important item was missing. You started to search around, looking under your bed, under the floor mat in your bathroom, and you even started to question if you'd even worn underwear that day, which would have been strange for you not to notice you'd forgotten to put them on.

You eventually gave up on finding them, certain that they'd turn up at some point, and you walked off with your hamper to go wash the rest of your clothes. Chris found himself in his most recent hook up's bed, bending her over while he took her from behind.

Things had gotten so heated between the two of them so quickly that they hadn't even made it all the way out of their clothes. Chris had lazily pulled his date's thong to the side with his pants still halfway on when he'd stuck his cock into her. The only problem was Chris couldn't get you off his mind.

He was in the middle of delivering a powerful thrust when he remembered he had your panties. Chris was usually against thinking about someone else when he was having sex with a woman, because he considered it rude, and he wanted to be fully present with the person in front of him, but it felt like he had no control over what happened next.

He retrieved the silk fabric from his back pocket, admiring how pretty they were once again. He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that they'd had direct contact with your pussy and how you'd soaked through them while thinking about him. He closed his eyes and pressed the soft material up to his nose, taking a deep inhale, your arousal filling his senses.

He sped up his movements, his date moaning his name and begging him to fill her up again. He couldn't help himself. He kept imagining it was you beneath him, his mind swirling with how your cunt would feel stretching around him for the first time and how his name would sound leaving your lips in your most desperate moment. It was almost too much for him to handle.

"Take it. Take my cock like the little slut you know you are," he whispered, pretending you were the one he was saying it to. "Chris! Don't stop!" The woman beneath him practically screamed as her pussy started rhythmically clenching around his length. With your panties still balled up in his fist, Chris came, pumping his date full of his warm, sticky load with the thought of you humping your pillow and moaning his name still lingering in his mind.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, driving his dick as far deep in as it could go into her before coming to a stop. "Wow, Chris. That was amazing," she breathlessly said, slumping forward into her pillow as she recovered. A smirk spread across his lips. He loved hearing how good he was from his satisfied partners.

He quickly shoved your panties back into his back pocket, cleared his throat, and pulled out. "Fuck, that never gets old," he whispered, watching his seed overflowing from her hole and spilling out onto the sheets. "You're such a perv, Chris," his date laughed, rolling her eyes, secretly loving that about him. "I'm not as pervy as you are slutty," he shot back, chuckling and pulling up his boxers and his jeans. "Can't argue with that," she said, smiling as she shifted around her bed to face him.

"Hey, are you okay? The sex was great and all, but you just seem preoccupied, like you're mentally checked out or something," she asked, cradling his face while her gaze met his. Chris' eyes quickly veered away from her's, a bit of guilt seeping into his conscience. He liked getting off to you, but he didn't like thinking about you when he was with another girl, and he felt bad that she could feel his displaced energy.

"You know, I'm sorry. My mind is just kinda somewhere else right now," he admitted, shrugging. "Come on. Lay down with me. Let's talk about it," she said, covering herself in her sheet as she curled up into her bed. Chris shook his head. "I'm so sorry. I can't stay the night tonight. I have a lot to think about," Chris replied, grabbing his shirt off the floor and throwing it on. "That's okay. Maybe next time?" She smiled. He leaned in and kissed her. "Goodnight," he said before leaving her house.

Chris stepped out into the darkness. He heard the crickets chirping nearby and the distant sound of cars whooshing passed each other on the overpass. He unlocked his car door and collapsed down into his seat to join the rest of the late night drivers, wondering what had gotten into him and why he still couldn't get you out of his head.

click to read part 2 ᧔•᧓

[xomakara]

What Are We?

SUMMARY |  You and Mingyu take a shower.

PAIRINGS |  Mingyu (SVT) x Reader 

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked 

GENRE |  smut, just pure unadulterated smut, friends with benefits

CONTENT/WARNINGS |  profanity, unprotective sex, fingering, breast fondling, creampies, dirty talk, kissing, nibbling, shower sex

LENGTH |  2,694 words 

TAGLIST |  --

NETWORKS |   @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @keopihaus

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi. Hello. I am now starting to write for Seventeen and first person is Mingyu lol. I used to write for them back during my AFF days and idk why I stopped writing for them. But now I'm back! I hope you all enjoy this one, however short it may be 💚

next part here (also a standalone fic): If We... (vernon x reader) 3rd part here: Back To Me (mingyu x reader)

Seventeen Masterlist

"That feels nice..." you let out a relaxed sigh as you let the hot water caress your body. Your body was sticky from all the physical activities earlier so it feels good to feel the droplets of hot water falling down on your shoulders.

You are so preoccupied by the shower that you didn't even hear the bathroom door open and close, and you also didn't hear the sound of the curtain pulling back. Only when his hands wrapped around your middle and pulled you backwards against him did you react.

"The bed was cold without you," he murmured against your ear. "I woke up and had to go look for you." His hands rested low around your waist, and you knew the kind of view he was getting of your body. He gently kissed your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes at him. "Someone kept me up all night and woke me up early in the morning." You can already feel his growing hardness poking against your back and the feel of his body so close behind you causes warmth to travel straight down between your thighs. "Seriously Mingyu? Is sex all you think about?" You let out a small yelp as he playfully bites the crook of your neck in return.

"Can't help it," he kissed the same spot. "No other girl makes me as horny as you do."

You feel sorry for the poor girl that would ever date Mingyu. His libido is so crazy that they'll be going at it literally 24/7. But he'd be damn lucky if the girl turned out to be like you. Because honestly, there isn't any woman that is capable of handling his insatiable appetite besides you. You've gotten to know every single inch of Mingyu's body inside out and knows what drives him to the point of madness. In fact, Mingyu would argue that you knew him more than he knew himself. You didn't know how, but you've managed to be the only girl to keep his attention on for the past two years.

"My body is still sore Mingyu," you protested half heartedly, as you rubbed your ass sensually against his hardening member. A dark smirk crept onto his lips as he snaked one arm down to the apex of your thighs.

"I can see that you're not really opposed to the idea though," he brushed his index finger over your wet folds. "God Y/N," Mingyu whispered into your ear as he let the feeling of your moist flesh cover his fingers. "How did I end up meeting someone like you? How are we still friends after almost two years of fucking each other senseless?"

You wonder about that yourself sometimes. You think back about how the relationship between you two used to be. He was an engineering student and you were a business student. Despite the differences in majors, both of your schedules often coincide together during lecture hours, study groups, and mutual friends. 

The day both of you became aware of each other's presence was an afternoon where Mingyu was busy sulking in a coffee shop waiting for Wonwoo, one of his roommates and bestfriend, when you walked in with said person and two other people. You were introduced to Mingyu, who greeted you politely before reverting to a pouting ball of sadness. That day, Wonwoo told you of Mingyu's woes—his girlfriend broke up with him after catching her in bed with another man, and he'd been a sad mess ever since. It took a long time before he opened up to another girl again.

You'll admit you didn't harbor any romantic feelings for him at first. But there was always a sort of undeniable physical attraction. It's natural; anyone would be attracted to him with his looks. He's tall and insanely attractive when he wears those thin-framed glasses of his. Not to mention his ripped and fit physique underneath that layer of clothes. And that deep voice of his didn't exactly help you reign back in on the fantasies.

When did friendship become something more? How did innocent hangouts turn into steamy makeout sessions? How did studying late into the night end up in full-on intercourse? Who initiated this game of push-pull that the both of you started and maintained for almost two years? Neither of you knew, but neither did you care.

"You have no self-control," is what you mumbled in response, gasping lightly as his skilled fingers circled around the sensitive bundle of nerves in the apex of your inner thigh. You can feel him smirking against your shoulder.

"Neither do you," he slowly pushes two of his thick fingers into your warmth and your knees buckle at the sudden sensation. You grip his arm as support, making a choked gasp. "Especially around me."

"How could I not? You know you can drive any sane woman wild, right?" you moaned as he thrust his fingers in and out of you roughly, with the shower head running along your torso, giving extra stimulation to the erect peaks on your breasts.

You'd never let anyone talk to you the way Mingyu talks to you—as a matter of fact, you never even let anyone treat you the way he treats you. But you didn't mind it when it came from him.

"Why won't you be my girlfriend then?" he coos into your ear. If it were possible, the shiver you gave from his breath ghosting across the shell of your ear would've made you cum all on its own. "We'd be doing this every day and night."

"How would us being in a relationship change anything between us right now?" you answered breathlessly. "We're still fucking almost every other day like this. Besides," you tilted your head to meet his burning gaze. "You don't date, remember? Not after your last ex. How do you know if it'll be any different with me?"

You two never addressed the fact that a real relationship between the two of you could never work out, given the nature of your circumstances. Mingyu may like the physical side of your relationship but dating was a whole other side of commitment that he doesn't want a part in. You knew he's dated other girls, both before and after his break up with his past ex, and had flings, but Mingyu had never once suggested a real date with you in these two years you've been acquainted.

Sure you wanted more from him. God you wanted more. Everyday you find yourself falling deeper for him as time goes on, but you'll take what you can get and try not to crave for the love you so much deserve.

"You could be the exception," he said as he curled his fingers in the most delicious way, making your spine arch and toes curl from the pure pleasure. You moaned his name desperately, trying your best to cling onto whatever sanity that hadn't fled from your head from the intense amount of bliss. 

"You could be a lot of things," he continued, kissing your jaw and pressing his body closer to yours. You could feel his throbbing dick being trapped between your bare back and his firm body, and it felt so sinful yet so pleasurable. "As long as I have you."

This isn't the first time he says these things. They're not new to you. What are you supposed to do? Pretend he's serious? Your heart is longing, your entire being is screaming, but you could never do that.

You twisted your head to face him and the kiss he planted on your lips is chaste, slow, and meaningful, completely opposite to the animalistic way he is fingering you. It sends your heart racing. When your lips break apart, his gaze is steady and strong.

He means the words, at least right now he does. And that is what kills you every time.

"There you go again, saying stupid things to me," you whispered softly.

"Don't be stupid," his fingers started pumping faster into you and your entire body jerks. "I want you all to myself," he crooned. The familiar warmth of your climax is creeping into the pit of your stomach. "No more other guys, no more playing coy around other guys," his free hand wrapped around the front of your body to circle and pinch the stiff and tender nipples of your breast, which in turn resulted in an obscene moan of his name and your body curling into itself. "You don't even let others fuck you. It's always only me."

Mingyu is correct in that observation. After meeting him, you never went around searching for hookups anymore. In fact, there hasn't been another guy in the two years since Mingyu started hooking up with you. The closest thing would probably be a few experimental dates here and there, but you had ended up going home alone. You'd thought you lost the desire to get fucked by others, but even after months of Mingyu's absence, you've never felt the need to sleep with another guy.

You could have chosen another guy. You could have dated Joshua or Seungcheol. Hell, you could have dated Seokmin or Hansol, two of the campus' most wanted guys.

But the last thing you expected was Mingyu becoming your greatest weakness, and the best fuck you could ask for. In all honesty, you can say with utmost confidence, Mingyu ruined you in the worst possible way. And you don't even regret a single damn thing.

"They... wouldn't even come close," you breathed. His pace picked up as your climax gradually rose higher and higher, making your moans become incoherent gibberish. "N-Never close.."

"Exactly baby," he nibbles gently on your earlobe. "No one is close. You know this."

"Fuck.." you gripped his wrist tightly and struggled to catch your breath as you felt your entire body spasm. Your knees gave out at the intensity, but Mingyu caught you securely with a strong arm around your chest, and continued to stimulate the soft spot inside your walls. You gripped his arm helplessly. "Mingyu, please."

"Please what?" his thumb began rubbing against your clit mercilessly, earning more delightful sounds from you. "Tell me what you want."

"Mingyu!"

"What do you want? Tell me."

"Mingyu... inside," you choked out a breathless sob, throwing your head against his shoulders. "Fill me... please..."

"Since you asked so nicely," he chuckled before pulling his fingers out of you. He turned your body so that you faced him before picking up one of your legs and placing it on his hips. You wrapped it tightly around him and he locked his eyes with yours as he guided the head of his cock between your swollen, wet, heat. It's an intense feeling when the tip enters the inside of your pussy, with your eyes glued to his and the sound of your breathing filling the otherwise quiet shower area.

You lost track of the time but you stared deep into his orbs as he slid the rest of himself inside, taking it all in at once. Your mouth drops open in a loud, gratified gasp at the feeling of having him inside you once again. It's addicting, absolutely addictive, to have someone that you've missed buried inside to the hilt.

It was amazing how you hadn't forgotten how perfectly his large girth fills you, reaching the deepest parts within. How could you, when your body has grown used to Mingyu, in size, shape, and texture. And it was impossible to find a man to fit the standards Mingyu had raised.

With his entire length fully sheathed in you, his grip on your thigh tightened as he began a slow, languid pace.

"Is it just me or is it better than before?" Mingyu groaned.

"It's always better..." you managed, enjoying how he is staring at your face. No matter how long he stares at you, it'll always cause your insides to melt. "Everything is always better with you."

Your eyes widen as you clasp a hand to your mouth as a natural reaction, embarrassed by what had slipped from your mouth. You averted your gaze downwards but he cupped your chin and brought your gaze back up again. The fire in his eyes hasn't cooled one bit despite the change in the rhythm and how passionate and intimate it feels. "You mean the sex, right?"

"Obviously," your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder. "Obviously the sex..." You closed your eyes at the pressure that is beginning to build up between your thighs again. "M-mingyu..faster..." you choked out.

He groaned before latching his lips onto your neck and placed his hands on the shower wall beside you for support. He rammed his hardness in you, creating waves upon waves of immense bliss. This made you lose whatever remnants of control you had left as you mewled loudly and wrapped both of your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles. Mingyu moaned in surprise, making you gasp in pleasure at the way his dick reached the furthest depths within you.

"Good?" he nibbled gently on your ear, smiling widely against it at the whimper you gave.

"Right there.." your eyes are shut tightly as you let yourself get completely devoured by Mingyu.

"Just... a little longer," Mingyu's forehead connected with your shoulder. "Together, yeah?"

"Yeah," the water splattered onto both of your intertwined bodies, washing off the thin sheen of sweat covering Mingyu's skin as he grunted and slammed his cock harder into your pussy. You tried not to crumble from the raw pleasure. "Together...fuck, Mingyu."

"Shit," Mingyu breathed out. "Hold on tighter," his large, calloused palms move to the back of your thighs, hiking them closer to his waist. One last stroke inside is the last straw, making both of you scream in total pleasure as an intense orgasm tore through your body. Mingyu groaned softly into the crevices of your neck and emptied his load deep inside you.

The both of you took your time to come down from your high, the water already turning cold after being on for so long.

"You'll be staying the night, right?" Mingyu murmurs against your ear, pressing a trail of sweet kisses along your throat and collarbone. 

Your hand moves to thread through the wet locks at the nape of his neck. "How do you expect me to go anywhere when you fucked my legs numb?"

"Excuse me," he had the decency to chuckle as he turns off the water, with him still inside you, "But I didn't hear you complaining earlier."

He patted your other leg to wrap around his hips too, and before you had time to ask what the hell he thinks he's doing, Mingyu pulls back the curtains and walked towards the door of his room, completely drenched.

"Mingyu we're dripping everywhere!" you tried your best not to flail in fear of him dropping you.

"Don't worry, Wonwoo isn't here," he assured, opening the door to his bedroom.

He deposited you onto the middle of his bed and he hovers over you, the cold droplets from his hair and skin falling onto the rest of your body. Mingyu slowly slips out from inside you, his hot cum sliding down the area in between your inner thighs. He makes no movement to clean you off; instead he lays back and pulls you on top of him.

"My offer from earlier still stands," he mutters. "Be my girlfriend, Y/N."

Your hand strokes through his hair gently. "You'll have to try a lot harder if you want me to say yes."

Mingyu hums and then he smiles widely. "But you didn't say no, did you?" He teases. You roll your eyes and press your forehead against the crook of his neck. He rubbed small circles on your hips comfortingly. "I'll keep asking until you do say yes."

"Maybe someday," you kissed the tip of his nose. You'll take him however you can. "One day I'll take your offer, maybe sooner or later."

It's not much of a promise, but he smiles genuinely and replies, "I'm holding you to it."

[inkskinned]

hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.

i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?

i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.

i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.

i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.

the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.

i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.

the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.

how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.

i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.

[no-144444]

HI! i love your writing and i was wondering if you would do a grid reacts to us finding out we were a bet? And if you wouldn't mind adding Logan too?

Thanks ml xxxx

the grid reacts: you find out you're a bet!

Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, George Russell, Alex Albon, Charles LeClerc, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris

thank you for requesting! xxxx

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

Oscar Piastri:

He walked into your shared apartment, a smile on his face. He hadn’t seen you in a week, and you’d both been too busy to call or text too much, so finally, he’d be back with his girl. 

He wasn’t expecting the bare apartment he’d known so well before you’d moved in. He wasn’t expecting your things to be gone, or the note on the table, or your engagement ring beside it. 

Dear Oscar, 

I found out. I know we were a bet, and I know you’d try to convince me that you loved me, and that it was all real. I don’t doubt that it was real. I know I loved you, and I felt the love from you (either that, or you’re a brilliant actor and picked the wrong profession). But I feel betrayed. I wish you would’ve just come to me immediately and told me how we started, even if I was mad at you for a while. You kept a huge secret for 2 years, Oscar. That’s not a short amount of time. I love you, and I still love you, but I need some time on my own to figure stuff out. I moved back out into my old apartment, and don’t worry, I’m still your girlfriend, but I just wanted space to think. We’ll work our way back up to being fiancé’s but until then, I am still very much yours, unless you don’t want me to be. I need to trust you again. 

Love, Y/n. 

His heart sank. He knew it was stupid to try and keep it a secret, and it had truly been tearing him apart for the last 2 years, but this… this was too much. He was thankful that you two at least we’re breaking up. But the engagement reversal thing was fucking with him. He adored you. He loved you. Yes, it was stupid, but he did stupid stuff all the time. Forgetting his keys, sleeping through his alarm, wearing his shirt inside out. You always told him it was endearing. 

“Hey,” your voice brought him out of his trance. “I wanted to be here when you came back, sorry, there was traffic.”

He turned around to see you. You looked at him. He was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice broke as you nodded. 

“I know you are,” you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “We’ll get through this, yeah?”

He nodded, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You let him cry it out for a little while, then pulled away. 

“You’ll be ok, we’ll be ok, yeah?”

He sniffled. “Yeah.”

“I love you,” you reminded him, wiping away tears as you went along. 

“I love you so much, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just… I was so scared a-and-”

“I understand,” you nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

He nodded, playing with your engagement ring in his hands. He broke again, sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him again, letting him calm himself down. “Please put it back on,” he whispered, begging you. 

You thought about it for a moment. You loved Oscar, and you knew you’d forgive him. It was harder not to forgive him, in all honesty. You’d read his hundreds of drafts of the speeches he had planned to say to you. Lando had shown them to you when he told you. You knew how this had been tearing him apart. But you knew how it stung, being betrayed like this. 

“Ok,” you nodded. He slipped the ring back onto your finger and a weight was lifted off of his chest, while one was placed onto yours. 

God, maybe love did conquer all. And that idea fucking terrified you. 

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

Logan Sargeant:

“Go up to her, she’s a McLaren engineer,” Lewis’s friend’s voice rang out over the speaker of your phone. “I’ll give you 2 grand if you can fuck her tonight.”

“It’s not like I need the money,” Logan smirked, cocky as ever. “But I’ll take that.”

The camera panned to Logan walking up to you, and your world shattered. 

------

“Hey babe,” he called, walking into the apartment. There you were sitting, seething on the couch. “How was your weekend?”

“Great,” you answered shortly. “Have you looked at social media recently?”

“No, why?” he asked, resting his hands on your waist. He tried not to read into your stiff posture. Was this the moment? Had you really found out? 

“I was a bet,” you sighed, brushing his hands off of you. “And you didn’t even have the heart to tell me.”

You hadn’t planned on crying, you thought you’d scream at him, give him a piece of your mind, but it was hard to get angry when he was standing there, looking so helpless. You loved him, and all you’d ever been to him was a bet. You’d only met a year ago, started dating 6 months ago. You’d meant nothing the entire time. Just a fuck and a check. You just felt… defeated, and used. 

“Baby please, let me explain, it’s not what-” He started but you sighed.

“Explain what? That you ‘love’ me? I don’t care. I deserve someone who tells me the truth, and you couldn’t even do that. I had to find out with the rest of the world. Don’t you realise how stupid I look? All the posts I made, everything I told my friends and family, and the entire time it’s all been a lie? I look like a fucking idiot.” 

Logan looked down, ashamed. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, taking your hand. “I’ll do anything to make this right, please Y/n, I love you.”

“How am I supposed to trust you? And how am I going to look going back to you? Why did you fuck this all up?” You groaned in frustration. “I fucking loved you!” 

“I love you too!” he pleaded. “Please let me make this right, I don’t care about the media, or whatever, I care about you, and I care about us.”

“What ‘us’? We’ve been based on a lie this entire time!”

“Please don’t say that,” he was crying now, so were you. “Please don’t say it was a lie.” 

You took your hand from his. “Logan, we’re done. Please don’t contact me.”

And that was that. He broke your heart and you broke his. 

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

Daniel Riccardo: 

He watched in horror as you opened the message on his phone from Scotty. 

“You have to tell her. This isn’t right anymore Dan.”

“What is Scott talking about?” You chuckled. 

“Nothing,” Daniel smiled, but it looked forced. 

“Dan, come on, you can tell me,” you smiled sweetly. 

“Seriously, I have no clue what he’s talking about,” he nervously chuckled. 

Your face dropped into an angry frown. “So he was right, you wouldn’t even admit it if I gave you the chance,” you sighed. “That’s great, thanks Daniel.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I know about the bet,” you sighed. “Scotty told me last week.”

Daniel sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you turned to him. “Why would you lie?” 

“I was scared.”

“Of what?” 

“Of losing you,” he shrugged. “I thought it would just be better to… keep you in the dark I guess. I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

“I wish you would’ve just told me,” you sighed, looking up at him. 

You were both silent for a moment.

“What does this mean for us?” he asked. 

“What ‘us’? We were based on a lie Daniel. A lie you told for a whole year.”

“So that’s it?” he gritted out. 

“That’s it.”

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

George Russell: 

“Have you talked to her about it yet?” Alex asked. “You have to tell her mate, it’s gone on too long.”

“It’s been 6 months Alex, and, by the way, I actually love her,” he scoffed. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to explain it.”

“Explain what? That you were dared to ask her out for money? Mate, you sound like a dick no matter what, she’ll break up with you no matter what,” Alex sighed, disappointed in his friend. 

“She’s probably right to,” George admitted. “Fuck!” he groaned. 

You stepped into the room, trying to pretend that everything was alright. Both of the men looked up, terrified of what came next. 

“Please let me explain,” George rushed out, taking your hand. Alex quickly left you two to speak alone, patting you on the back as he left. George stood up and took your hand. 

You nodded. “Explain.”

George’s frown lifted slightly, elated that you would even give him the chance to explain. “It was a stupid bet and I never took any money. I stopped speaking to the guys after we met, and I promise I’ve been trying to tell you, I just… I get scared every time that I’ll lose you. I don’t deserve you, but I love you Y/n. And I’m so sorry.”

You nodded. “I just… give me some time, yeah?”

He nodded. “All the time you need, of course.” 

You took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around his neck in a short hug. “I’ll call you, yeah?”

He nodded, letting himself enjoy your embrace. “Please call me. Anytime.”

You pulled back, still holding back your tears somehow. “Yeah. Good luck today.”

“If I win, it’ll be for you. It’s always for you,” he smiled softly. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaving with a broken heart, and a choice to make. 

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

Alex Albon: 

“Can we talk?” Alex asked, 2 months in.

“About what?” you questioned. You were sitting in his apartment in Monaco, eating dinner before catching a movie at a nearby cinema. 

“How we met.”

“Proceed,” you nodded, turning your full attention to him. 

“We met at Jimmy’s, and I was there with my friends, and we were being assholes, and I'm sorry that’s how you met me,” he hesitated. “And that night, I was dared to go up to you, only because they knew I’d never get a chance with you because you’re… well, you’re you, and I’m me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but we were just having so much fun and-”

“You thought you couldn’t get a chance with me?” You chuckled. 

Alex looked up. “Well, no. You’re gorgeous-”

“You’re a very hot Formula 1 driver! Alex, I was losing it when you came up to me!” 

“I thought you didn’t know anything about F1?!” 

“I don’t! But I know about hot famous guys!”

“You liar!” he laughed. 

“You lied too!” you laughed. 

He smiled. “ I guess we’re pretty evenly matched then, yeah?”

“I guess,” you shrugged, then leaned over and pressed your lips to his. 

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

Charles Leclerc: 

You and Charles were new, like new new.But he’d invited you to the paddock nonetheless, and you had the weekend off, so off you went to the Ferrari garage. You’d met the so-called ‘Prince of Monaco’ at an Indycar event a few months back when he got your number, and since then you’d been texting back and forth. He finally asked you out, and you agreed, I mean, who wouldn’t, right? Even though you worked in Indycar, you were a born and raised Monegasquean and you were proud of your heritage, and pretty excited to be dating the Monegasque. 

“Oh shit,” Pierre grumbled, bumping into you. Recognition finally crossed his face and he smiled. “Y/n, right? We met at the Indycar thing, right?”

“Hi Pierre, yeah, nice to see you,” you smiled. Behind him came Charles, a bright smile for you. 

“Are you here for work or-? Oh, for Charles,” he smirked and turned back to Charles . “Le pari est-il toujours valable?” (is the bet still on?)

Your face faltered. Charles didn’t tell you about any bet. What bet?

“Je ne lui ai pas encore dit,” Charles mumbled. Pierre’s smirk grew, as did the sinking pit in your stomach. (I haven’t told her yet.)

“Hey,” Charles turned to you with a smile on his face. 

“Hi,” you nodded, more reserved than before. “Congrats on pole.”

His smile dampened. “Is everything alright?”

“All good,” you mustered up your fakest smile. “Ne parie peut-être pas sur une fille qui vit à Monaco, connard.” (Maybe don't make a bet over a girl who lives in Monaco, asshole.) 

Charles looked dumbstruck for a moment, and you left him like that. You were worth more than that. 

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

Lewis Hamilton: 

“Have you told her yet?” George asked, eying you from the other side of the garage. 

Lewis shook his head. “I can’t find the right time.” “You need to tell her soon, it’s only a matter of time before someone else tells her.” 

“I know I do, I just… everytime I try to bring it up it’s like she’s extra sweet and perfect and I just can’t break her heart like that-”

“Break who’s heart?” you asked, standing beside Lewis. 

George shot him a look to say ‘tell her now’, and he nodded. George left you two to talk. 

“I was… I came up to you… I-”

“It was a bet to ask me out, I know,” you nodded, sipping your drink. “Whose heart are you breaking?��

Lewis’s brow furrowed. “Yours?”

“I overheard you and your friends at the bar that night,” you explained. “I don’t care. We’re dating because of it, I love you, blah, blah, blah,” you smiled. “Unless it’s been a charade the whole time-”

“NO! It hasn’t, I love you, I promise,” he wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed kisses to your cheek as you laughed. 

“You thought that would break my heart?”

His ego was becoming a little bit more than bruised. “Hey!”

You laughed. “OK, ok, relax. Yes, it would’ve broken my heart,” you teased. 

He pushed you off, smiling. “I don’t want your pity-”

“Not even a pity fuck?” you whispered, a mischievous smirk on your lips.  

He smiled. “Well, I always want that.”

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

Max Verstappen: 

“Fuck this game!” Max cursed after his game had crashed for the third time. You made your way into the living room, looking in on the game.

“Everything alright?” you asked. 

“All good, sorry liefje,” he responded, not even turning around. 

“Is that the girl we put the bets on?” One of his friends asked. Max panicked and shut down the stream, then immediately turned to you. 

“Liefje…” he started. You stood there in shock. 

“Is that true?” you started. “Was I a fucking bet?!” you shouted. 

“It- I- Yes, it started like that, but I love you, I-I’m in love with you!” 

“How can I ever fucking trust you?” you shot back. “You’re a liar!”

“I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck does ‘sorry’ do? I’m leaving Max. You are so not the man I thought you were,” you pushed past him, grabbing some of your essentials from your bedroom as he followed behind you, begging you to stay. 

You left. He was the one who messed up. 

All because of a dumb bet. 

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

Lando Norris: 

He was sweating through his shirt. Max’s eyes bore into him all night, more specifically, how his arm was draped over your shoulder. He understood his best friend’s confusion. It was mere months ago that Lando had been dared to go up to you and ask you out, mere months ago when he sent a photo into the group chat of you sleeping soundly beside him, asking for the transfers from the men who’d told him to ask you out and somehow get you back into his bed before the next morning. Since then, things had in fact changed. He had changed. You had changed him.

“Lan,” Max hissed. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Max,” Lando mumbled. “Not now.”

“She deserves to know,” Pietra shook her head. “Y/n, listen to me, I know Lando had probably been a lovely guy but he asked you out because he was dared to-”

“Pietra!” Lando groaned. “What the fuck!”

You turned to Pietra, pushing Lando’s arm off of you. “Are you serious?”

“She’s telling the truth,” Max added. 

“Y/n please, just let me explain-”

“There’s nothing to fucking explain. You’re an asshole, don’t call me again,” you scoffed, getting up and leaving with Pietra following quickly behind. 

Lando was helpless.

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

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[dreamersparacosm]

i wanna see oc getting nervous bc she’s about to meet jk’s parents for the first time :3 im so curious, how do you think she will react?

soo.. we all know our girl is not good with parents. she would rather dive headfirst off a cliff into shark-ridden waters if it meant never meeting his parents. unfortunately jk is def a mommas boy and that man will require she meet the parents. let’s pray she gets through it <333

the price of desire — epilogue blurb 4!

prompt ; in which you meet jungkook’s parents and you just need a little handholding to get through it.

warnings ; none

Some people have charming, endearing family skills. Others can walk into a stranger’s living room, smile once, and be immediately adopted into the family tree.

You, however, are not necessarily good with parents. Your track record is kind of heinous honestly.

You’re the type of person who tenses up at the words “family reunion.” Someone who used to shake everytime Eomma popped up on your phone screen, convinced it was either a lecture or a guilt trip (or if you were really lucky, both.)

It’s gotten better. Therapy, age, distance (reluctantly, Jungkook is part of this list) — they’ve done their part.

You barely flinch anymore when your mom calls. You even call your dad once every few weeks, checking in, making small talk about the weather.

Nonetheless, the prospect of parents evaluating you like a project proposal they might decline at the last minute makes your fucking skin crawl.

Which is why, even though you’ve technically met Jungkook’s parents over the phone — all polite words like “thank you for raising a wonderful son” as if you were writing a LinkedIn job endorsement — the idea of meeting them in real life feels… different.

He knows this about you, knows you need time and to not be rushed into something. 

Until six months in, when he hits you with the nuclear bomb: “I want you to meet my parents.”

The aforementioned man may have just as well proposed marriage in your language.

Commitment at its finest.

You said yes, of course. Rushed over to give him a few pecks on the cheek in mock excitement. You always say yes to him.

That’s how you find yourself now, in the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car, parked outside his childhood home in Busan, leg bouncing nervously like you’re about to be hauled into court. 

He cuts the engine and the car goes eerily silent.

You’re clutching your bag like it might launch you into orbit if you just believe hard enough. Your sweater — pastel pink, “please trust me with your son” coded — feels suffocating around your neck.

You can feel him looking at you before you even turn your head. That observant gaze he always saves for moments like this — when he knows you’re about to spiral and he’s preparing to catch you.

You peek at him out of the corner of your eye. He’s the epitome of calm; hair messy from the drive, tattooed hand resting on the gearshift, hoodie loose around his broad shoulders.

“What if they hate me?” you blurt out suddenly.

His mouth twitches in amusement. “They won’t.” He places a hand atop your thigh, hoping that’ll soothe the anxious shake.

You exhale sharply through your nose, stare down at the death grip you have on your bag. “I’m not… good at this.”

“Ohhh, I know.”

You glance over at him, startled by the honesty. You can’t believe it’s that easy for him to read you.

“But. You are good at everything else,” he says. “And they’ll see that.”

You have no choice but to believe him, because if you don’t, you might jump ship and take this car all the way back to the safe haven that is your apartment. 

Twisting your fingers in the strap of your bag, your leg bounces faster, nerves buzzing so loudly you almost miss when he removes his hand from your thigh and hooks his fingers through yours.

You look down at your joined hands, at the grounding pressure of his thumb brushing across your knuckles.

You huff out a breath, attempting to sound annoyed even as your heart softens in your chest. “I hate when you’re right.”

A cute little smile adorns his features, lights up his whole entire face.  “I know,” he grins.  “Come on, baby. They’re excited to meet you.”

You shake your head, muttering something about how you should’ve insisted on a FaceTime first, or maybe a detailed PowerPoint presentation with references and prior employer evaluations, but you’re already letting him pull you out of the car, letting his warmth bleed into you until your hand isn’t shaking anymore.

For him, you’d survive anything. You’ve also done worse — you’ve been trapped in conference rooms with male CEOs who told you that you were incompetent. Jungkook’s parents can’t be that bad.. Right?

You don't even remember the flowers until the last second, just as he slams the door behind you. 

It’s pure survival instinct — your body lurches back toward the car as Jungkook’s tugging you forward by the hand, the momentum almost ripping your shoulder clean out of its socket.

“Wait,” you hiss, scrambling for the backseat, wrenching the door open. You haul out the bouquet you meticulously picked out this morning. It’s a gorgeous pair of white roses that you picked up at the nearby market. There was a twenty minute argument had with the seller on whether these were worthy for a boyfriend’s parents. 

Jungkook laughs under his breath, watching you juggle your purse, the flowers, and the weight of your impending doom.

“Baby, you know you didn’t need to do all that right?” he remarks, pulling you back toward him with a tug once you’ve got everything clutched awkwardly to your chest.

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, letting him lace his fingers through your free ones again. Like it doesn’t make your heart thump even harder against your ribs.

You’re halfway up the front walkway when it comes rushing again. Panic rises up in your throat, lodges itself there and makes a home. 

You stop dead in your tracks, shoes scraping against the pavement, and Jungkook turns back quizzically, yanking lightly on your hand. “Baby?”

Your mouth is seemingly dry. The stupid white roses are crushing against your chest. Your even stupider sweater feels like it’s strangling you.

“I can’t,” you manage to get out despite the fear wedged in your vocal chords. “I-I’m not.. what if they don’t like me? What if I say something stupid? What if I—”

Jungkook steps in closer, cutting you off with a soft smile. He squeezes your hand. “They’re going to love you. And if they don’t, too bad. I already do.”

You stare at him, blinking hard against the sting in your eyes, and for a mere second, all you can think is this is real.

This boy, this house, this life you’re putting so much energy into accidentally building without even realizing it.

You nod at him decisively before you can spiral again. He seems to take that as his sign to barrel forward. Marches right up to the door and knocks before you can change your mind.

The second knock hasn’t even finished echoing when the door swings open.

Oh god, there she is. Jungkook’s mom.

She’s tiny. Definitely shorter than you expected — maybe five-foot-nothing, at most — with a round, welcoming face and crinkled eyes that look just like her son’s when he’s laughing at something. You love those eyes. 

She’s wearing a simple blue sweater, hair pinned back in a casual bun, and she’s beaming at you like you handed her one million won. The sweater on your part was a great call. 

Before you can even process it — or before you can even bow properly like you rehearsed in your head 37 times on the drive over — she’s throwing her arms around you and pulling you into a hug.

You flinch instinctively and ungracefully, your whole being tensing up like a steel trap. But that doesn’t deter her. She just squeezes tighter, patting your back, blabbering a string of rapid, affectionate Korean you only half-catch through the sound of blood whooshing in your ears.

“So happy to meet you!” She pulls back to beam up at you, hands cupping your elbows like she’s trying to comprehend that you’re real. “Ah, you’re so pretty! So much prettier in person, oh my goodness — please, come in, come in, make yourself comfortable!”

All you can think to do is to thrust the flowers out like a peace offering. You’re not even halfway past the threshold and somehow already making a complete fool of yourself. She’ll think you’re mute and tell Jungkook he can’t date a girl who doesn’t know how to speak. 

But to your surprise, she gasps, a full hand-over-heart gasp, and takes them like you’ve just handed her a Nobel Prize. “For me? So thoughtful! So beautiful! Ahhh, Jungkook, you didn’t tell me she was this pretty and this sweet!”

You bow deeply, murmuring words that sounds like thanks, cheeks burning hot. Jungkook, the traitor, is standing off to the side, grinning like an absolute maniac. He’s thoroughly enjoying you getting steamrolled by pure maternal affection.

You shoot him a look over your shoulder — the universal help me, you son of a bitch gaze — but he winks at you. His mom coos over the flowers, calling you beautiful, ushering you into the house with a hand on your back.

Your shoes slip off at the door, but you feel like you're in some weird dream sequence while you let yourself be herded inside.

The house smells like fresh rice and stewed beef and fabric softener and you realize, with a pang in your chest, that his home smells a lot like yours. With the fussing mother and the home-cooked food. 

Jungkook slides in next to you, brushing his hand lightly against your lower back, and when you glance up at him, his eyes are already on you. 

There’s a shuffle from deeper inside the house, the low, steady clomp of slippers against the floor, and who you assume is Jungkook’s dad appears around the corner.

He’s tall, about his son’s height, sharp features etched across his skin that immediately makes sense when you look at Jungkook standing beside you. His face splits into a wide grin the second he sees you.

“Ah!” he exclaims, voice filling the room. “So this is the famous girl we’ve heard so much about!”

You snap into action again, bowing deeply, polite greeting on hand, trying to keep your hands from trembling as you clutch your bag. 

Jungkook steps forward, greeting him with a hug and a casual “annyeonghaseyo, appa,” before slinging an arm around your shoulders. Your heart is still rattling around in your chest like a loose marble.

His mom is ushering you forward again, flitting around you like a tiny tornado, until somehow you and Jungkook are standing in the dining room staring down at what can only be described as a feast. She has apparently cooked for the entire population of Busan.

There’s steaming bowls of rice, plates of marinated beef, piles of japchae noodles, pickled radishes, kimchi, seasoned spinach, soy-glazed potatoes… every single inch of the table is covered.

You mentally calculate if it’s possible to eat your own body weight without exploding. You'll have to try — it would literally be disrespectful if you didn’t. 

Jungkook leans in close, breath fanning against your ear.  “Hope you’re hungry, my love.”

You shoot him a desperate side-eye. His mother waves you into a chair, fussing over you as apparently all mothers do — Sit here! Take this! You must be tired after the drive! — and you barely manage to set your body down before she’s piling rice into your bowl. If you were a weaker person, this kind of aggressive hospitality would probably kill you. 

Settling awkwardly into the seat she gestures to, plate half-full before you even lift your chopsticks, Jungkook slides in the chair beside you.

So at home here it makes your chest ache. 

He helps too, snatching extra side dishes you hesitate over, setting them on your plate without asking, as if he knows you’re too polite to do it yourself. He fills your water glass when you’re not looking. Moves the soup closer to you.

His mom watches it all unfold; the way he takes care of you without any reciprocation required, without even seeming to notice he’s doing it. Her mouth pulls into a little smile.

When she finally settles into the seat next to her husband, she claps her hands together giddily.

“So!” she says brightly. “We want to know everything about you!”

You know this was coming but the open affection on her face somehow makes it worse. Like she wants to love you. You might actually have something to lose here.

“My job?” you echo stupidly.

She nods like a bobblehead. “Well, that, yes. And your family! Your friends! We want to know it all.”

Panic flares up in your chest again and you swear you’re going to choke on the bite of rice you’ve just put in your mouth.

But before you can shrink back into yourself and run away like you’ve spent most of your life learning to do, you feel Jungkook’s hand slide under the table, finding yours.

You look over at him with your heart in your throat and his lips curl upwards. He always knows exactly what you need before you know how to ask for it.

The panic loosens its grip on your ribs. You squeeze his warm hand. 

Inhaling slowly, you set down your chopsticks carefully, and meet his mother’s eyes across the table. 

You tell her about your job — your love for it, the chaos of being a CMO, the way it sometimes eats you alive but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You talk about growing up. Busan native, hard work, lessons learned too young. Even your parents come up. Your voice wobbles once or twice, but you push through it. 

Everytime you falter, Jungkook squeezes your hand.

And when you’re finally done, when you’re sitting there breathing a little too hard and trying not to cry into your plate, you catch how his mom looks at him.

It’s a subtle nod. She’s already decided. Like she knows, without a doubt, what her son’s future looks like.

It looks a lot like a girl in a pink sweater. 

Jungkook’s grip tightens on your hand under the table instinctively. 

You beam back at his mom and she smiles so brightly you have to duck your head.

You don’t know everything yet (despite your desire to.) You don’t know how this will unfold.

But you know this: you’re sitting at a dinner table in Busan, holding hands with the boy you never meant to fall for, in a house that smells like home, surrounded by people who are trying their best to make you feel like you belong.

masterlist + ask

[freakyformula]

Unexpected Love part 1

Summary:

Things weren't meant to turn out this way.

I had everything thought out perfectly. My life was perfect. And then Toto came and wrecked everything.

I can feel myself becoming more bewildered and hopeless with every passing second.

I look at the stick in my hands again and confirm my worst nightmare. Two faint lines. Just like the one I took before. And the one before that. It was truly happening.

I can barely breathe as I slide down on the floor, with my knees tucked under my chin.

Tears run down my cheeks as I sob my heart out.

This is the first part of Unexpected Love, a series about Y/N, who falls in love with Toto Wolff, the CEO of Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula 1 team. Follow along on her journey, as she experiences love and desire for the first time in her life. ps. This series contains sexual themes, and may not be fitting for younger individuals.

Writers comment: I'm working on the requests you've sent me dw <3

Warnings: Major age gap and fluff

Word count: 2,9k

"Come on, Y/N, it'll be fun!" My best friend, Vanessa, laughs while yapping away about the Australian Grand Prix that will be held next week. We sit on her bed in her studio apartment, surrounded by books about engineering and car design. We were both students, both in uni, working on our theses.

"How to build a car?" I ask, holding the book up, looking at her with a charming smile. "It's written by one of the best car designers of all time, Y/N!" She laughs. "Adrian Newey..." I whisper to myself, getting more and more fascinated by the elegance and beauty of the sport.

You see, Vanessa had gotten an internship at Mercedes a year ago as a trainee mechanic, and had been pestering me about the sport and how I needed to join her for a race weekend ever since.

"I'll pay for your tickets, as long as you join, please just come with me!" She practically begs. "I've heard there are handsome dudes at the races." She looks up from her notebook and winks.

"Alright, sold!" I say in an instant, surprising myself and her. "I mean, I won't go because of the men but rather because I love you so much." In my friend group, I was the one with the least experience, and I was okay with that; it seemed like everyone else had an issue with it. I was known for being proper and shy, and I guess that made me unattractive. I didn't really mind being single, though. I actually quite enjoyed it.

"Will you really?!" She asks, not sure if I was serious or not. "As long as you pay my tickets, then yes." I smile at her.

Vanessa, being the funniest, sassiest, most outgoing person I know of, starts jumping up and down on her bed in what I can only assume is happiness, making her books and I jump along with her. "Yay!" She yells. "Melbourne, here we come!"

And just like that, I had tickets to the Melbourne Grand Prix, the first race of the season. I had to admit, I was nervous. I didn't like flying that much, and I wasn't the biggest fan of large crowds either. It seemed like I had a lot of things against me. I had been wondering what to wear ever since I agreed to go, and as I was a poor student, I couldn't afford anything expensive. My friend knew of this and assured me that one of my cute sundresses and a cardigan would suffice. So, here I was in a yellow sundress, hoping to fit in.

Friday was the first real racing day. Stakes were high, the sun was warm, but not scorching, and the city was filled with expectant people. I'm busy reading the info pamphlet as we walk to the track, with my friend excitedly babbling away about her schedule.

"Here are your tickets. Keep them on you at all times. Don't lose them!" Vanessa smiles as she slides the link with the tickets over my head and runs off to the garage to get ready for practice.

I spent the next 10 hours walking around, feeling totally lost and misplaced. I even thought about leaving early and walking back to the hotel. I knew how Vanessa would react though, she would be heartbroken. I let out a sigh of relief when I got a text from Vanessa, telling me to meet up with her near the gates. When I say I ran, I'm not exaggerating.

"Hello, darling!" She says as I hug her tightly. "How was your day?" She asks.

"It was okay." I simply state and sigh. She instantly stopped and looked at me, sensing that I wasn't enjoying my time. "Y/N, let me introduce you to someone." She blurts out and drags me along with her at a quick pace.

"Hi guys, this is my plus one, Y/N." My friend chuckles and introduces me to her colleagues, judging by their Mercedes clothing. I can't help but gaze down and feel out of place.

"Hello, Y/N, nice to meet you! Welcome to Australia!" One of the men opposite me says and offers me his hand. I look up at him, giving him a faint smile and shaking his hand. He had a kind smile and deep brown eyes that smiled down at me.

"H-Hi." I manage to blurt out as he gently lets my hand go from his firm handshake.

"How are you liking the weekend so far?" The man asks.

I look up at him, with the others looking excited to hear my opinion.

"Well..." I start. "She doesn't like it so far." My friend fills in, and to be honest, she wasn't lying. She knew me better than anyone and she definitely knew I wasn't enjoying myself without even asking.

"In that case, I think it's best if she joins us in the garage for a tour, don't you think?" The man says.

I frankly had no idea what to expect, but I humbly accepted, and parted with the rest of the group, and followed my friend and the mysterious man to the garage.

"Tadaa! This is our garage in all its glory!" My friend says as she dances around, making sure not to touch the cars or the equipment. As she dances around by herself, humming some song that was popular at the time, I walk around looking at the cars, absorbing every detail about them.

"You, Y/N need something to fit in." The man starts. "What about..." He says as he searches the lockers. "This?" He says, and hands me a Mercedes T-shirt. He even got my size right.

I look at him and accept his gift. "Thank you! This is too kind of you."

"No, Y/N, this is the least I can do." He chuckles as we watch as Vanessa hums and attempts a waltz.

The silence was palpable, except for Vanessa of course, and I started to panic, not knowing what to say as we leaned against the cupboards, standing next to each other.

"Ummm..." I start. "We should probably-"

"I'm Toto, by the way. I never told you my name." Toto says.

"Toto..." I say to myself as I look up at him. I couldn't part from his piercing gaze, and for a moment, we were stuck in each other's eyes.

"Y/N, boss, earth calling?!" Vanessa chuckles, cruelly returning us to reality. Even as Vanessa is yapping away, I feel Toto's gaze burning my skin.

"Wait... Boss?" I think, but the words happen to slip out. My eyes move between them, having more questions than answers.

"You didn't know?" Vanessa asks. "Toto is the CEO and team principal of Mercedes."

"That's right." Toto nods his head and smiles.

"What the actual..." I say in complete disbelief. Toto and Vanessa look at each other and smile, as I'm left gaping at them.

"I-I..." I say, as I look at the Mercedes T-shirt and Toto with shocked eyes, and he seems to notice. "I know, it's probably a lot to take in."

"Anyways, I'm going back to the hotel. Are you coming, Y/N?" Vanessa says as she walks out into the chill Aussie air, and I start following her.

"I should probably make sure that Y/N gets something to eat. If you want to, of course." Toto says as he moves in front of me, and looks down at me with those dark eyes of his. Usually, I wouldn't go out with a man I had met not even an hour ago, but something about Toto just lured me in.

"That is so kind, Toto, but-"

"Of course you're going!" Vanessa cuts me off and leaves me looking at her with a questioning look.

"Okay, guess I'm going..." I say, holding my hands up in defeat.

"Are you ready to go right now?" Toto asks, and I nervously nod as an answer.

"Have fun." Vanessa whispers in my ear as we walk out of the garage.

"I won't be long." I assure her.

"Sure thing..." She laughs to herself, and walks off, leaving me and Toto alone. As we walk towards the parking, I can't help feeling nervous about the whole situation. I'm about to have dinner with a CEO twice as old as me. What am I thinking?!

"I can tell you're nervous Y/N. You don't need to be." Toto stops and looks down at me with that gorgeous smile of his. "I'm just taking you out to dinner."

And he's right; it's only dinner. Nothing more, nothing less. Deep breaths.

I wasn't exactly surprised when he guided me into a Mercedes. That felt like a given at this point. This man was the brand itself.

As we got to know each other, I realise that he was quite enjoyable, despite our differences.

"I'd guess that you're... In your twenties?"

"You would be correct, sir." I giggle. "Now, my turn. My guess is that you're in your fifties." I say, scanning him for his reaction.

His face was blank for a moment before finally speaking. "My god, Y/N, you are so accurate! Do I look old?" He asks.

"Not exactly." I chuckle. "But you don't look twenty either."

Toto sighs. "Fair enough. I'm not senile, though."

"Touché." I say, as we sit in comfortable silence.

I'm almost dozing off when I'm awakened by Toto's loud ring tone. "Sorry for waking you up..." He mutters as he answers.

"I wasn't... Asleep." I say as I heard a voice on the phone which didn't sound too happy, and I started wondering if his wife was angry with him for taking me out for dinner. "I'm not having this conversation now, Susie." He says, surprisingly calmly, before switching to German. As the call ended, which felt like an eternity later, the air felt tense, and Toto looked as if he was ready to snap.

"I-I'm sorry if I got you in trouble." I finally break the silence. I'm ready to break down crying, fearing that I had ruined a perfectly good relationship.

"What? No, no Y/N! You haven't done anything wrong." He says as he grabs my hand reassuringly. "That was my soon-to-be ex-wife, Susie." He spat the last part out.

"You're married?!" I panic.

"Was." He clarifies, holding his finger up. "Trust me, Susie and I are not on good terms." Toto says, tearing his eyes from the road to scan me for any uncertainty.

Our gazes meet for what feels like forever, and he gives me a reassuring smile. What I felt at that moment cannot be described with words. Was I already falling for this man?

"We're here." He interrupts my racing thoughts. I audibly gasp as we turn onto a road to a vineyard and as I watch the rows of plantations., Toto turns to me, smiling to himself. "Never been to a vineyard before?" He asks as I take in the beauty of the endless hills and plantations.

"Never." I say in awe. "It's beautiful out here..."

"I'm glad you like it." Toto says as he parks the car and helps me out. As we make our way towards the building on the hill, which Toto told me was the restaurant, I can't help wondering what exactly brought me here. I had a feeling that I'd have to thank Vanessa at the end of the night.

"Are you okay?" Toto asks while we slowly walk towards our destination, and I quickly nod as an answer, giving him a wide smile.

"Good. I hope you like Italian food." He chuckles.

"I love Italian food actually, it's my favourite cuisine." I admit.

The restaurant was almost empty as we walked in, and we were escorted to a small booth where we could sit alone. "Order whatever you want; it's on me." Toto says as he studies the menu.

As soon as I heard that, my eyes spring up to the man sat beside me. "You don't have to do that, Toto... I can pay for myself."

Toto doesn't look at me when he continues, "Shush, Y/N, I was the one inviting you out for dinner. I will be the one paying." He says, as he calls the waiter over.

"A mushroom risotto for me please... And for the lady?" Their heads turn and all of a sudden, the attention was on me.

"Umm..." I'm left panicking, unable to read, or breathe for that matter. "I-I'll have the same thing." I announce, making the waiter nod and walk off.

As the day turns to night, Toto and I keep talking, getting to know each other.

"And so, that's how I became team principal." Toto finishes off his story.

"Wow, you've seen a lot through the years." I smile to myself while sipping on the red wine Toto had insisted he'd get for me. The price tag, I feared, was juicy.

"Here you go, two mushroom risottos." The waiter announced as he carried the two plates our way.

"Thank you!" We said at the same time.

I could feel myself getting tipsy and more relaxed as the evening progressed and Toto for sure noticed. The fact that I was enjoying my time made him relax too, making our conversation more easy-going. I have to admit, I was really enjoying myself.

"Are you ready to leave? I'm sure Vanessa will alert the authorities if I keep you for much longer." Toto looks down at his clock and sighs. "We've been here for a little over 3 hours."

"Sure thing." I say as we get up. As he had already promised, he paid the bill, much to my dismay.

On our way down the hill, we walk a little closer than we did before, close enough to touch hands, close enough to feel the heat radiating of each others bodies.

"I've had the best evening." Toto starts, "I haven't had this fun in a long time."

"I feel the same way." I smile up at him, and stop in my tracks, taking the grace of him in. He turns around, surely wondering why I stopped.

At that moment, I have no idea what got into me, but I clap his arm, and run towards his car. "You're it!" I yell.

I run down the hill playfully, with Toto in close tow, as I snort with laughter. When he gets close enough, he lifts me up and slows down, carrying me on his shoulder all the way to his car.

"Toto! Let me down!" I protest.

"You little riot!" He laughs as he walks up to the car, while letting me down carefully. "Now, back to the hotel? We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Yes, please." I reply, smiling up at him, earning a smile back from him as he helps me into the car.

The journey back to the hotel was blissfully silent, and it felt as if no words were required, as if everything was said in our minds.

"And we're here." Toto says as he approaches our hotel and stops at the entrance. "Let me take you back to your room." He says as he guides me to the lifts.

"I will find my way back to my room, Toto." I try to protest, not wanting to be an inconvenience to him.

"I'm sure you will, Y/N, but I want to make sure." He says as we enter the lift. As the doors close, Toto approaches. He was terrifying in this close proximity, and I automatically tense up.

"Shhh..." Toto shushes me. "No need to be scared, Y/N."

I won't lie, his words didn't exactly calm me down, but on the contrary, his closeness made me feel safe, and I didn't have the strength to move away. Something about him just reeled me in, fast, and I bet Toto noticed how my breathing became faster.

Faster than I would've preferred, the elevator stopped and we step out. "I enjoy your company, we should do this again." Toto admits as we slowly walk along the corridor. "I agree, Toto. I really enjoyed this, just let me know when you want to do it again."

"How am I going to do that if I don't have your number?" He asks.

"Smooth, Mr. Wolff." I say, earning a shrug from him, as I dig through my bag for a pen. "Here!" I hold the ballpoint pen up in the air like a prized possession as Toto giggles at my antics. "Hand, please." I ask, and Toto willingly offers me his hand. With a certain level of clumsiness, I manage to write my number in his hand.

"This is it, 303, my room." I announce. The silence that follows is awkward, and none of us seem to know what to say.

"I..." I start. "I've had a good time tonight." I say as I smile up at him.

"Likewise." Toto says while taking my hand and giving it a light squeeze. "See you soon, sunshine." He nods at me as I close the door behind me, letting out a heavy sigh, finally getting to relax.

"Hello, sunshine." Vanessa announces as I close the door.

"Vanessa? What the fuck-"

"You've been gone for hours, now tell me everything. How did it go?"

"Okay, you won't believe it..." I say, and as the night progressed, Vanessa questioned me about our dinner, and I readily provided every detail. Vanessa probably had no idea her boss had such a tender side, and I considered myself fortunate to have witnessed it myself.

We both fell asleep, worn out and exhausted. As I stare up at the roof, Vanessa is already snoring beside me, and I can't help but wonder what Toto is doing at this exact time. Was he thinking about me, or was he looking for his next fling? One never knows, but I fell asleep pleased and content, with one question in mind: when will he contact me again?

[littlegrapejuice]

Love Story | OB87

Pairing: Ollie Bearman x Reader

Summary: Although secret, your relationship with Ollie is meaningful. And not even a protective dad can put an end to it.

Author's Note: my first time writing for ollie!! He's fr such a pookie and I'm so happy to have had inspo for him🤭 this is obv a taytay ref, based off that one recent interview in which ollie said he loves love story hehe

F1 MASTERLIST🏎

You were both young when you first saw Oliver Bearman.

Closing your eyes, the flashback started.

It was not really an unusual meeting, more so amusing to you.

As Fred Vasseur’s daughter, it was not surprising to see you in the paddock during a race weekend. You had been accompanying your father since you were a kid, as he went from managing one team to another. Your current home in Formula 1 was Ferrari since your father became its team principal, and you couldn’t dream of being anywhere else. Red looked good on you, and you were always proudly wearing the team’s merch for every race.

It often led to you being mistaken as an actual employee, which did happen when you first met Ollie.

You had obviously heard of him as he was part of the Ferrari Academy, but you had never talked to him until the 2024 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Ollie, who had been competing in Formula 2 during the same weekend, had been called in at the last minute to replace Carlos. Reserve driver duties came first, and so he ended up racing for Ferrari rather than Prema.

Your first conversation with Ollie happened after qualifying. You had been in Ferrari’s garage talking with Charles, when Ollie made his way through the crowd of engineers towards the two of you.

“Hello”, he said.

“Hey, Ollie. Congrats on P11,” Charles told him. “That’s good for a first qualifying session!”

“Thanks! Congrats are more in order for you, though. You got P2!” Ollie reminded him with a smile, excited for the other Ferrari to start on the front row.

“Yeah, the margins weren’t close enough. But we’ll do what we can.”

You had stayed silent during the exchange, until you met Ollie’s eyes. You gave him a soft smile, and introduced yourself:

“Nice to meet you!” You offered him your hand, which he shook., before putting your hand on his shoulder and letting it linger there longer than it should have. “Congrats for making it to F1!” Your praise made him blush a little, which made you find him even cuter than you already thought he was.

“Thank you!” His smile was blinding, as if he had been blessed by the sun itself. “Are you one of Ferrari’s engineers?” He genuinely wondered. He thought you were pretty, and he hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he would see you.

“Oh no, I don’t work here!” You told him.

“Might as well do with how long you’ve been hanging around here”, Charles pointed out with a chuckle. “The team kit is kinda misleading.”

“Sorry for supporting my father’s team! You should be glad to have me here,” you said with a scoff.

“Your father?” Ollie asked.

You were about to confirm your identity, but someone else did it for you.

“Ah, Ollie! I see you’ve met my daughter!” None other than Fred Vasseur had come up to the three of you, before he clasped a hand on the Brit’s shoulder.

“Yeah… like two minutes ago”, Ollie replied. He was unsure how to react, now that he knew you were his boss’s daughter.

“It’ll be nice for you, Ollie. She’s the only one close to your age around here,” Charles explained. “You should get along well.”

“Not too well, I hope.” Fred was laughing, his French accent prominent, but his tone was still made to act as a warning to Ollie.

You weren’t even surprised by your father’s words. If there was one thing he always made sure of: you wouldn’t date a driver.

“We’ve just met”, you emphasised with a sigh. “We’re not eloping.”

“You better not.”

While Charles was smirking at the exchange – he knew your father had made you off-limits to anyone on the grid who was relatively close to you in age, Ollie was petrified. The young driver was now scared to even try to befriend you, not wanting to end his already short racing career in Formula 1.

And when your father asked Charles to take you somewhere else in the paddock, Ollie was already accepting his fate. He was expecting to be scolded for ever laying eyes on you, and even imagined Fred ordering Charles to run him off track tomorrow.

“I really like you, Ollie. But you stay away from her if you can’t be just friends with her.”

“Yes, sir.” Ollie tried to maintain a neutral face, as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“You’re a nice guy,” Fred concluded with a smile. “She’s everything to me, and I’m glad if she can get more friends around here. But no dating.”

“Yes, sir.” Ollie could repeat himself, too nervous to say anything else. “Just friends.”

“Good, I knew you would understand.” Fred smiled, now abandoning his father persona and turning back to being the cheerful team principal who everyone loved. “You can go join her wherever they went, and have a friendly hangout.”

Ollie gulped, and nodded. He followed the direction in which you and Charles had left, quickly finding your voices outside of Ferrari hospitality.

“Can't you talk to him?” You pleaded. “My dad loves you, you can vouch for Ollie.”

“He does like Ollie, you know. It’s not targeted towards him,” Charles claimed. “He’ll do that to any guy approaching you, however well-intentioned they are.”

“But what if I want to date that guy?” You argued, pouting. “I swear he treats me like a kid.”

“Well, you are his kid. And be glad he doesn’t prevent you from having friends as well.”

“That’d be insane.” You sighed, not liking the situation. “I’m perfectly capable of choosing my relationships, friends or not.”

Charles gave you an apologetic smile, before ruffling your hair. Wanting to lift your spirits, he decided to joke:

“If you’re really determined to try it out with Ollie, just hide it.” He shrugged, showing that he wasn’t serious. “I’d keep your secret.”

“That’s not dumb”, you said with a pensive smile.

Charles thought that your smile meant you weren’t upset anymore with your dad. But actually, it meant that you were scheming.

When the conversation died down, Ollie realised that he had just stood there for the entirety of it and therefore showed himself.

“Ollie!” You grinned at him, ready to put your plan into action. “Sorry for whatever my dad might’ve said to you.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but Ollie didn’t want to badmouth your own dad in front of you.

“I guess we can still be friends?” You asked him, hope filling your eyes. When Ollie nodded, the smile on your face widened. “Are you free right now? We can hang out wherever!”

“I’d like that, yeah.”

Glad that you were still able to become friends, Charles softly smiled at the sight of you and Ollie. He notified you that he’d leave you two, and wished you a good night. You waved at Charles, before taking Ollie’s hand and dragging him towards the paddock exit.

As you left the track together, conversation naturally flowed between you and Ollie. He told you about his current career in F2, and how thankful he was to have a chance in F1. He asked you about your life, wondering about how it was to grow up in paddocks and garages.

And despite having different experiences, it was easy for the two of you to relate to one another. You were both part of the racing world, surrounded by cars and the sound of their engines since your childhood.

In the span of only one evening, a deep bond had been created between you and Ollie. You told him things you had never told anyone before, surprised at how easy it was to share your life with him. He made you comfortable, made you laugh, made you happy.

So when you had to part ways as it was becoming late, Ollie internally cursed your father for not giving him a chance. But if strictly being friends meant that he could keep hanging out with you, then Ollie would repress any initial attraction he had felt when meeting you earlier.

Which proved to be hard, when you kissed his cheek before bidding him goodbye.

And it got even harder, when he ended up P7 in the race on the next day.

You had obviously celebrated Charles’s podium at the track. But in the quiet of the paddock after the post-race clammer got quieter, you had found Ollie and offered to celebrate his debut points.

Just the two of you.

“We’re friends now”, you had claimed. “Friends celebrate each other’s achievements.”

And he had agreed with your statement. Until your hangout in the streets of Jeddah didn’t feel so friendly anymore when your hand brushed against his. Once. Twice. Until he was the one to cave in and take your hand in his, a nervous smile on his face. His face was redder than your Ferrari polo shirt. But under the lights, the blush on Ollie’s cheeks just made him even more beautiful to your eyes.

You didn’t kiss that night. Didn’t acknowledge that it had eventually become a date as hours passed. But the feelings were definitely there, and it was just the start of a love story between the two of you.

…..

Opening your eyes, you took in your surroundings. You were laying in bed – Ollie’s bed, in his hotel room that you had crashed the previous night. The curtains were slightly open, and you could see the faint light coming from the Saudi Arabian sun.

You were back in Jeddah, a year later.

A lot had happened in a year: you had started dating Ollie – your father was obviously not aware of it. You and Ollie were still ‘friends’ to him, albeit very close friends. So to hide it the best you can, you ‘hired’ some people.

It would’ve been suspicious if all of a sudden you were going to F2 races just to see Ollie. So you became friends with his friends, and you didn’t hesitate to share the news with your dad. You were quite surprised at how he never noticed, but you figured that the group pictures always showing you and Ollie being far from each other were enough of a distraction.

And when Ollie eventually raced twice for Haas at the end of the season, it wasn’t suspicious of you to visit him in his garage. Your support for him was quite public, but always just the right amount of friendliness to not bring attention to it.

So a year later, you were still getting away with dating Ollie in secret. And it had become even easier to hide it now that he was in F1, as you could share flights and hotels – Kimi, Gabriel, and Isack never too far away just in case.

It was meaningful for you to be back there, where it all started.

You couldn’t be prouder of your boyfriend, and your support was everything to him. Support that you showed him after every session of the weekend.

“Ollie, take me somewhere we can be alone. I’ll be waiting.”

This was something that often occurred between you two. It was one thing to only be friendly in public, but you still needed to spend romantic time with him. So it wasn’t unusual for you to sneak into Ollie's driver room to see him, keeping quiet because you would be dead if anyone knew.

“Close your eyes,” you would tell Ollie while laying in his arms. “Escape the paddock for a little while, just rest.”

You would then simply stay together like that, cuddling for what felt like hours until Ollie’s engineer would call for him and you would have to go back to Ferrari as if nothing had ever happened. You would share a quick but loving kiss before Ollie checked the surroundings and gave you the green light to leave his garage.

You didn’t know how much longer you could actually keep it a secret, but you stopped thinking about it when you saw Ollie enter his room after he had showered. Everything else didn’t matter anymore every time you laid your eyes on him.

Straightening against the bedhead, you softly smiled as Ollie finished getting dressed. You observed his face, the expression he harboured, his curls, his eyes. You could only admire him.

Sensing your gaze on him, Ollie looked at you. He tilted his head in confusion, silently asking you if you needed anything.

“Everything alright?”

“Everything’s perfect,” you replied.

“Do I have something on my face?” He wondered as he went to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No, you’re just pretty.”

Ollie should be used to that, used to your compliments. But even after a year, he still wasn’t. He still blushed like he did when he first saw you, a smile – one of his that you loved so much – slowly making its way on his face.

Chuckling at his reaction, you crawled towards him before you kissed him on the cheek and stood up.

“I’ll get ready and then we can go to the track, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Ollie nodded, checking the time. “We’re meeting Kimi in twenty minutes,” he reminded you.

“Okay.”

As usual since the season had started, you would ask one of the rookies to arrive at the track with you and Ollie to not raise suspicions. Even if you were entering the paddock separately, people would always be watching what happened before and you would rather be safe than sorry.

…..

The race would be starting soon, and you debated making a quick trip to Haas to go wish Ollie luck. He was starting P15, and you knew he needed all the support he could get even though you wouldn’t be in his garage.

However, you got caught as you were about to leave Ferrari:

“Are you going to see your boyfriend?”

“Oh, Dad… hey!” You didn’t think that he would notice you, as he was usually on the grid by then. Suddenly nervous, you began stuttering. “M– my what?”

“Your boyfriend”, your father repeated. “I’m not stupid, I noticed that you’ve been sneaking around the paddock since the season began. Is it a driver?” He asked. “One of the rookies?”

“You know I wouldn’t date a driver”, you argued.

“And yet, I know you are.”

“What?”

“I wish you would’ve told me the truth yourself, but I’m not blind. So just tell me who he is.” Fred’s tone was stern, but there was a hint of worry in his voice as he was unsure whether you would trust him with the information.

“It’s… Ollie?” You admitted, waiting for his reaction.

“I don’t like that”, he simply said. “I want you to call it off.”

“You can’t ask me that!” You slightly raised your voice, appalled at what your father was asking of you. “I thought you liked Ollie!”

“As a friend for you, not some boyfriend who will break your heart. And when he does, you’ll still be in the same paddock. I don’t want you to get hurt,” he told you.

“He won’t hurt me”, you retorted. Your dad was about to speak again, but you interrupted him. “You can’t tell me to end things with him, I won’t.”

And with that, you left the Ferrari garage to go see Ollie. He immediately noticed something was wrong when you walked up to him with a frown on your face. He didn’t hesitate to hug you, resting his head on top of yours as he rubbed your back.

“Are you okay?” He asked you after a couple minutes.

“He knows…”

“Oh… I guess it didn’t go well?”

“Bingo,” you sarcastically confirmed. Taking a step back, you removed yourself from the warmth of Ollie’s arms around you and ran your fingers through your hair with a sigh. “He just said he didn’t approve, that you’ll hurt me, shit like that…”

“Because I’m a driver?”

“Amongst other things, but yes mostly. He’s tryna tell me how to feel, and said we should end things before it’s too late.”

“Will you?” Ollie knew you wouldn’t, but he still needed to make sure of it.

“Of course not! It might be difficult from now on, but our love is real and I wouldn’t trade it for anything else.”

“Okay, well… I kinda don’t like that your father is mad at you, but we’ll be fine. I hope”, Ollie tried to reassure you.

“Hope so too,” you mumbled. “Guess we just gotta make it out of this mess”, you added with a shrug. “But anyways, I originally came to wish you luck.”

“I’m starting P15, ain’t much I can’t do from here. But thanks, I really appreciate your support.” He took your hand in his, his thumb slowly starting to stroke your skin. “Do you want to watch the race here?”

“Honestly, I think it’s best I go back to Ferrari. I’m mad at my dad, but I still wanna be there for the team.”

“No problem.” Ollie liked your loyalty to your father’s team, knowing that you were also loyal to him at the same time. “I’ll see you after the race, yeah?”

“Yeah, come save me. I’ll probably be feeling alone if we get a podium and everyone’s out there celebrating Charles.”

“It’d be nice for him. He’s starting P4 so he’s got good chances”, Ollie pointed out. He then used his free hand to cup your cheek, before leaning down to kiss your lips. “I’ll come get you when I’m done with the media.”

“I’ll be waiting”, you told him with a soft smile – the one usually reserved for him.

Ollie stole one last kiss from you as ‘good luck’ before he reluctantly let go of you and turned back to make his way to the grid. You watched him go, and eventually went back to Ferrari. You hoped that your father had left the garage already, meaning that you wouldn’t have to face him until after the race. Fortunately for you, he was already sitting at the pit wall and you were peacefully able to grab your headphones before the formation lap was about to begin.

…..

As expected, Charles had managed to get the first Ferrari podium of the season. You knew this would be good for the team’s morale, and you were more than happy for the Monegasque.

Ollie had gained two positions during the race, putting him in P13 at the end. You knew he wouldn’t see it until he was done with his media duties, but you texted him anyway.

Well done ollie<3 you did your best and i’m proud of you

I’m hiding in charles room to avoid my dad

Text me when you’re there, ily

You figured that you had an hour to waste while waiting for your boyfriend to come get you, so you just got comfortable on Charles’s sofa.

Half an hour passed. You had watched everyone’s post-race interviews.

An hour passed. You had liked all the teams’ posts on social media.

An hour and a half passed. You didn’t have any news from Ollie.

Deep down, you knew that the most logical explanation was a post-race debrief that was lasting longer than usual. But still, it wasn’t like Ollie to not even notify you of the delay. So you texted him again and hoped that he would eventually look at his phone.

I’m waiting for you, you still haven’t come

Just worried ab you so please text me as soon as you see this🤍

You were anxiously biting your nails when someone opened the door a dozen minutes later, which startled you. You quickly sat up, hoping that it was Ollie. But to your disappointment, it was only Charles.

“Hey, are you alright?” He asked when he noticed your smile fading. “We got a podium, you have to come celebrate with us tonight!”

“I’ll pass… but congrats on P3, I’m truly happy for you and I think your performance will help us for the future!” Despite your sour mood, you still wanted to show your support to Charles.

“I hope so too. But why are you still here? You usually leave my room earlier so that’s why I didn’t bother knocking.”

“I’m waiting for Ollie,” you told him. “He was supposed to get me like a half hour ago but he hasn’t come yet, and I don’t have any news from him.”

“Oh, sorry. Last I saw him, he was leaving the media pen to go back to his garage. You want me to text him too? Or call him?” Charles really wished he could do something to help you, not liking to see you down.

“It’s okay… I’ll just–”

“I’m here!” Someone shouted as their hand appeared before their face, fingers gripping the doorway. “I’m here, oh God. I can’t breathe, wait.”

Ollie looked like he had run a marathon before arriving, as he was having a hard time catching his breath. His gaze was solely focused on you, and he straightened up when he noticed the worry on your face.

“Sorry I took so long,” he apologised. “I was finishing my interviews, and then I was walking back to Haas. But I saw Fred. And I was going to ignore him at first because I was nervous as hell when I remembered that he knew about us, but then I thought of you. I didn’t want him to be mad at you because of me, and–”

“Ollie, slow down! Breathe, of my God. You look like you’re about to faint any minute now,” you said as you stood up and poured him a glass of water. He quickly drank it, and you were glad to see some colour come back to his face.

“Thanks. Anyways, I was saying…” He thought for a second, remembering where he had stopped. “Yeah, I talked to your dad; told him I love you; that I wouldn’t hurt you; that you were everything to me. And he was grumpy about it, but I think he accepted our relationship!”

“What?” You were flabbergasted at Ollie’s words. “You convinced my dad that you weren’t gonna break my heart?”

“Yep”, Ollie excitedly replied. His smile was contagious, making a matching one appear on your face. “I don’t think he actively enjoys me dating you, but I got his blessing.”

“His blessing?!” Charles exclaimed. He had been silent from the beginning, quietly following the exchange, but he felt like he had to join the conversation now. “I’m not even gonna comment on why he suddenly knows about you two, but did you ask Fred for her hand or what?”

“Well, hmm… no?”

“You sound unsure”, Charles pointed out as he raised an eyebrow at Ollie.

“Ollie, did you say anything else to my dad?”

“If you count me telling him that I was imagining my future with you, and that it would mean a lot to me if he could entrust you to me for the rest of our lives… then yes, that’s the other things I said to him.”

You exchanged a look with Charles, the both of you unable to believe Ollie’s words.

“I don’t know if you realise, but…” Charles thought of how to word it, as Ollie waited for him to keep going. “You literally asked Fred for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”

“I did what?” Ollie’s eyes darted towards you, hoping you could deny it. But when he saw you nod, he realised what he had done. “Oh God…”

“You literally said to my dad that you wanted to spend your entire life with me”, you explained the situation to Ollie.

“Go pick out a white dress then,” Charles added with a laugh.

You chuckled at Charles’s words, and Ollie noticed something.

“You’re not mad or weirded out about it?” He asked you, worry evident in his voice.

“No?” You replied, a smile on your face. “Ollie, I love you and I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you. I’d actually enjoy that very much.”

“Oh…” Ollie couldn’t help the blush that kept intensifying on his cheeks as he ran his fingers through his hair, symbolising how nervous he was. “Well, that’s good then.”

“That’s very good, yeah.”

You and Ollie exchanged loving smiles for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything else until Charles spoke up:

“Okay, kiss now! Y’all are happy and in love – we get it,” he told the both of you.

“Jeez, calm down. You get one podium and suddenly you’re giving us orders,” you complained. Still, you closed the gap between you and Ollie before gently kissing him. You kept it short due to Charles’s presence, and stepped back with a smile still harbouring your face.

“Be grateful I never said anything to Fred, though! I know I said I would keep it a secret last year, but I was actually joking back then.”

“I know you were. But yeah, thanks for not ratting us out to your boss.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied with satisfaction and smugness in his voice. “Now, get out there and celebrate your little love story elsewhere! I need to change before going out with the team.”

Charles was almost pushing you out of his room, clearly wanting some alone time for a bit. You chuckled at him, before taking Ollie’s hand and dragging him away to the exit.

Once outside, you couldn’t help laughing again. Ollie looked at you, waiting for you to convey your thoughts.

“Still can’t believe you asked my dad to marry me”, you teased.

“Stop, I’m gonna be traumatised next time I see him.” Ollie blushed again, and you could only think that he was adorable. “It’s gonna haunt me for the rest of my life.”

“I’ll be there with you, though.” You stopped laughing, as your tone became slightly more serious. “I meant what I said, Ollie. I’ll actually spend my life with you if you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will”, he replied. “I’ll have you forever, for as long as we can get.”

It was now your turn to blush, not believing how lucky you were to have a boyfriend like Ollie.

Because you were both young when you first saw Oliver Bearman.

And you would be both old, when you would last see him.

..........

Y'all can't imagine how much i love this one🥹

As well as being my 1st time writing for ollie, it was my 1st time doing like a "song fic" (does that count as one?) - i hope the swifties out there got all the lyrics i included haha

I'm so glad f1 has challenged me in my writings and helped me try out new/diff things compared to what i was used to write like that feels super rewarding when i end up being proud of what i produced so I'm just super happy🎀

I really hope y'all enjoyed reading this one as much as i did writing it - don't hesitate to like, reblog, or comment to tell me your thoughts!!

See you soon, take care of yourselves, I love y'all xx

[videovamptramp]

i’m right over here, why can’t you see me? (2)

// when ellie’s reaction to you and abby hooking up isn’t quite what you expected, she leads you right into abby’s open arms. //

[warnings: jealousy, pining, angst, slight arguing, angry!ellie, illusions to one-sided feelings, simp!abby, fuckgirl!ellie, sexual implications]

xxxxxxxxx

this is pt.2 (pt.1 can be found here)

abby was always taught to be the bigger person. her father consistently reminded her that no matter how people treat her, she should always be the bigger person. that’s most of the reason why she’s so reserved and non-confrontational. when she first started university, she knew she didn’t quite fit in. unlike a vast majority of students around here, she wasn’t here for the “college” experience. she was just here to play soccer and get her degree in engineering. she also noticed you from the first day of freshman year, but she was way too shy to say hi to you. abby’s never really been good at flirting or starting conversation with new people. she often feels too awkward, or too intimidated to say anything.

manny took a liking to her right away; the school got his rooming situation mixed up, and that’s how he ended up being abby’s roommate. it was strange at first for her; she was wary about having a guy as a roommate. but she quickly learned manny was a cool guy. he was funny, and hung up pictures of him and his dad right away. abby could relate, as she was very close to her dad as well.

manny slowly seemed to get abby out of her shell, and would invite her to various functions and parties. but he quickly learned if it didn’t have anything to do with soccer, abby wasn’t really interested. even the girls who threw themselves at the dark haired blonde, would get shot down without abby even realizing she was rejecting them. you were ironically the first person abby found herself interested in. hell, after the party yesterday, abby was almost certain she was enthralled by you.

after walking you back to your dorm, you gave abby your number and hugged her tightly. abby walked all the way back to her shared room with a dorky grin on her face. she could still smell your girly perfume, and all she could think about was your pretty smile. a part of her wondered if you’d cave and call ellie, but when you texted her after she had gotten out of the shower, she knew you didn’t.

y/n (1:34 a.m): i can’t wait to see how she reacts tomorrow, thanks for helping me haha

y/n (1:35 a.m): and thank you for keeping me company tonight, i really liked getting to know you abby 🖤

the smile that tugged at her lips after reading your message was nearly unrecognizable. as she walked out of the bathroom with her eyes and thumbs on her phone screen, manny raises a brow in slight suspicion at the peculiar sight.

abby (1:42 a.m): i really liked getting to know you too, i hope we can get to know each other better :) i was serious about teaching you how to ride a horse lol

“that’s a face i’ve never seen before.” manny states observingly, causing abby to look away from her phone, over at her roommate who was flashing her an intrigued smile. a blush coats her freckled covered cheeks as she thinks about you and your smile. “you remember that girl from my women’s history class? y/n?” abby reminds her best friend, who throws his head back and lets out a bark of a laugh. “abby you jugadora (player)! i knew you’d get laid eventually.” he taunts causing the jock to roll her eyes. “i didn’t ‘get laid’, gross ass. i finally said more than five words to her. i got her number too.” abby smirks, and mischief glints in manny’s eyes. “so nora dragging you to that party was a good thing then?” he half taunts and abby’s phone chimes, signaling that you’ve texted her again; her face gets hot, and manny chuckles.

y/n (1:44 a.m): i’ll be waiting for you to set something up when we’re not tipsy then ;)

abby (1:46a.m): i don’t think you’ll be waiting for very long <3 goodnigjt y/n, sleep tight

y/n (1:47 a.m): goodnight abby 🖤

when you wake up the next morning, your head is throbbing, and thoughts of last night begin to flood your mind. suddenly you remember all about abby’s plan to make ellie jealous. you reach over for your phone and see you have a string of missed calls, and five texts from ellie. your heart thumps as you open the text thread with the brunette.

ellie (2:20 a.m): you home??

ellie (6:34 a.m): why didn’t you call me last night?

ellie (6:35 a.m): did you make it back to your room safely??

ellie (9:35 a.m): you going to class today?

ellie (11:47 a.m) did you really hookup with anderson last night? it’s all that nora chick and her friend are talking about rn.

your cheeks heat up as you read the last message; word certainly seems to move fast around here. before you can even think about a response to ellie’s various messages, your gaze wanders to the time. your eyes widen as you gasp, realizing you slept nearly half the day away; it was already 2:30 p.m and nobody except for abby knew you were alive. you scurry off your bed, and just as your about to grab your clothes and stuff to shower, dina comes barging into your shared dorm. “dude, is it true!? did you hookup with the captain of the soccer team last night!?” dina sounds excited, and your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink, causing her to gasp.

“you did! holy shit, y/n… i didn’t think you had it in you.” she comments, sounding a bit impressed. “what? you didn’t think i had enough rizz to pull abby anderson?” you question half jokingly, causing the raven haired girl to laugh loudly. “oh no, i’m well aware you can pull whoever you want, i just didn’t think you’d move on from ellie so fast! i didn’t even come home last night, i spent the night listening to ellie rant about you and abby hunky anderson.” dina teases you mercilessly, doing nothing to ease the way your face is burning.

the raven haired girls eyes then widen, shining with pure amusement. “did you two do it in here? on your bed!?” she cackles before whistling, “who are you?” dina asks half jokingly as she begins to walk over to her side of the room, reaching for her biology textbook. “you’re leaving again?” you ask out loud, and dina nods, turning her head and flashing you a roguish smile. “yup, i’m studying with jesse till five.” she admits, and you raise your brows, offering her a disbelieving expression. “studying or fucking?” you ask her, poking fun at the slightly taller girl. she rolls her eyes, but looks away from you in order to keep you from seeing the way her face changes in color. “unlike you, i am considerate of jesse’s roommate. we wait until he’s at work.” dina’s response causes you to laugh, shaking your head in amusement.

“whatever. i’m going to shower, and change into pajamas. maybe i’ll make myself a cup soup and watch reruns of buffy all evening.” you tell her, and dina snorts. “maybe you could call anderson to join you. i’m sure she’ll be up for round two.” dina’s voice is sardonic but dripping with lightheartedness. “who says we didn’t already have round two?” you inquire challengingly, causing dina to gasp as she reaches for a pillow on her bed, tossing it right at you. you laugh loudly, as you make your way towards the door with your pajamas and toothbrush in hands. right as you open the door to rush out, you come face to face with ellie who had been debating with herself on whether to knock or not.

her eyebrows meet her hairline as she sees you, your mascara from last night a mess, and your hairs a mess. there’s a wave of hot, red anger that surges throughout the brunette as she realizes you’ve been so busy with abby anderson, you haven’t been able to answer any of her messages, or even been able to wash your face. her eyes flicker over to your bed that’s a mess, and suddenly unwanted images of abby fucking you on your bed flood her mind.

“it’s nice to see you’re alive.” ellie grumbles a bit dramatically as she pushes her way into the room, causing dina to turn around and look at you. “you knew i was okay. i was with abby.” you respond, and the mere mention of the other girl seems to set ellie off. “no i didn’t know that y/n! i don’t know a fucking thing about abby! she could’ve been a weirdo who only wanted to take advantage of you—” you cut ellie off before she can say something stupid, “but she wasn’t! abby and i are both two consenting adults who hooked up, just like everyone else around here!” you snap a bit harshly, and the words feel like a slap to the face for ellie. “so the rumors are true? you and anderson hooked up last night?” ellie’s voice sounds hurt, and you can’t even recognize the expression that’s etched onto her features.

“uh, jesse’s waiting for me, so i’ll let you guys talk.” dina declares a bit awkwardly, she can feel the tension in the room, but she decides to stay out of it and walk away. before she walks out, the raven haired girl flashes you a look of reassurance. when she shuts the door behind her, you and ellie are left alone. you shake your head, “why do you sound so angry about it? you hookup with girls all the time!” you counterpoint, and ellie shakes her head. “but i never ditch you to do it!” she hisses, while you respond with an eye roll. “yes you do! ellie, you ditched me last night for angela! you do it at every party with different girls, but the one time i do it, it’s a problem?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i was worried about you! i don’t care about your meaningless, shitty hookup with anderson.” ellie spits rudely, and you let out an angry laugh of disbelief. “shitty? why do you think i was asleep all day? it was amazing.” you nearly grimace as you realize you sound like you’re trying too hard to convince ellie. “besides, abby already asked me on a date. she wants to go horseback riding.” you lie right through your teeth, and ellie lets out a chuckle. “yeah? that sounds like complete bullshit.” she calls you on your bluff, and you raise a brow, “what sounds like bullshit? that someone could actually want something more than a hookup with me?” you ask challengingly, causing ellie’s annoyed expression to falter. “no, y/n, that’s not what i meant…” she trails off, her voice lowering slightly.

“then what did you mean? because to me it sounds like you think all abby or anyone could ever want me for is a hookup.” you reply dryly, but ellie can detect the slight hurt in your tone. she shakes her head again, “no that isn’t— it’s not you! it’s abby! girls like her aren’t actually interested in dating anyone. i mean, half the cheerleading team said she sleeps with girls and never talks to them again!” ellie points out, and you furrow your eyebrows. “since when do you listen to rumors?” you demand, making her run her fingers through her hair in frustration. “you can’t seriously be thinking about going out with her, are you?”

her question causes you to frown, “yes i am. and unless you can give me an actual reason on why i shouldn’t, then we have nothing left to fight about.” your voice is strangely stern, and something in ellie’s stomach drops because of it. “i’m going to go shower… just like was before you barged in here.” you know you sound meaner than usual, but you can’t help it. ellie was supposed to be showing you how sexy she was when she was jealous, not what a jerk she was. you didn’t even mean to lie about your date with abby; it had just slipped out. ellie had a way of pushing your buttons, and in a way you knew the more you talked about abby, the more you were pushing hers. you walk out of your room, shutting the door behind you and leaving ellie alone. she can’t help but glance over at the messy, undid bed that was taunting her. ellie hates thinking about you and abby together, but she still can’t figure out why. dina was right, the brunette might just be the most oblivious person on the planet.

you’re not as upset after getting clean. a warm shower and a fresh set of pajamas always makes you feel better. when you get back to your room, ellie is no longer there, but there's a twinge of guilt that runs through your veins. you push it as far away from your thoughts as you can. you know you shouldn't feel bad; after all, ellie has been raving about how "pretty" and "hot" angela is for the last four weeks! you shouldn't feel the slightest bit guilty for making her jealous with abby.

as your mind thinks about the honey blonde girl, a small, inevitable smile makes it's way onto your lips. though the smile falls fast when you realize you're going to have to ask abby to help you again. this time it was your own doing; you angrily lied to ellie and told her you had a date with abby. in a way it made you feel a bit pathetic, faking a date. the cruel voice in your head was telling you that ellie was right; you couldn't get a date with someone like abby... not an actual date at least. but ellie didn't really know that. as far as she knew, you were going to be riding off into the sunset with abby after your date.

ellie doesn’t text you throughout the rest of the evening or night. a part of you feels a bit bad for lying to her, but the other part of you knows you only did it because she was acting stupid. the next morning you wake up and get ready for your classes; feeling way better than you did yesterday. abby sees you walking to your second class, which happens to be women’s history with her. she can’t stop herself from approaching you, regardless of the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“y/n.” she greets you with that soft accent, that causes an unfamiliar warmth to course throughout your body. “abigail.” you respond back, unable to contain the smile on your face. “how did things go with williams yesterday?” she asks curiously, and your smile falls at the mention of your best friend. “not good? was my plan a bust?” she questions cautiously, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. you sigh, “i don’t know. i mean, she was really mad yesterday when she came to my room. she heard people saying we hooked up, and she said all you wanted was to hookup and never talk to me again…” you trail off, and abby opens her mouth to disagree, but you go on before she can get a word out.

“i kinda got really mad when she said that and i might’ve lied to her about us having a date.” you blush in pure embarrassment, and abby lets out a laugh. “oh jeez, i don’t even wanna picture how angry she got when you told her that.” abby’s voice is light, yet there’s a slight seriousness in her tone; she remembers the way ellie was glaring at her the other night. you shake your head, a small frown etching itself onto your face. abby can’t figure out how you look so pretty all the time; even when you’re upset. “yeah she was pretty mad… but who cares? she’s just acting like a jerk! i mean, to be jealous is one thing but she doesn’t have to be an asshole about it. she’s supposed to be my best friend. realistically she’s supposed to be happy for me.” you mutter, causing the blonde to raise her brows in amusement.

“she’s your best friend who’s in love with you. the more time you spend with me, the angrier she’s gonna get.” abby points out with a slight mumble, and you sigh, “if ellie is as in love with me as you and dina say she is, then she would’ve said something yesterday. but she didn’t. i honestly think ellie just isn’t into me like that.” you sound genuinely sad as you come to terms with this, and the dismal expression on your face causes something to tug at abby’s heartstrings. she doesn’t like seeing you sad.

“she’s just stubborn. she needs more of a push. i mean you said she got upset when you told her we have a date.” abby tries, as you both stand outside of the classroom, continuing the conversation. “yeah, but she’s ellie, she literally has anger issues. maybe she was just mad that i promised to call, and i didn’t.” you explain, and abby shrugs. “then lets go on a date. let’s see how ellie reacts to it.” the taller girl throws the idea out there, causing you to freeze. you look at her, “you wanna take me on a “date”, just so i can see how ellie reacts?” your voice has suspicion laced throughout it, as abby nods. “why do you wanna help me so badly?” you interrogate slightly, obviously not trusting the blonde.

she laughs at the way your eyes are narrowed, and she can’t help but find every expression of yours absolutely adorable. “because i like you. you’re the coolest person i’ve met around here aside from nora and manny. i’ll help you get the girl if that’s what you want. i’m a great wingman.” she winks at you, and you roll your eyes playfully, that genuine smile that causes abby’s heart to palpitate returns. “you’re also a very sweet person.” you add onto her boast; this causes the back of her neck to heat up, as she looks down at her boots and smiles. you wrap your arms around her and hug her tightly, just like you did the other night.

and just like the first time you hugged her, abby’s mind begins to race as the smell of your perfume takes over her senses. she hugs you back, and when you pull away you have this mischievous grin on your face. “i guess we’ve officially got a date then, anderson.” you half joke, as you lead abby into the classroom. abby’s sure her face is as red as a tomato, and she’s much too busy thinking about how soft you are and how good you smell to think of a good response. instead, all abby can do is follow you like a puppy to your seat. she sits down next to you, and throughout the entire class, she doesn’t pay attention once.

after the class ends she realizes she hasn’t taken a single note, and has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. every thought she seemed to have, circled back to you. the worst of it was, you were probably thinking about ellie while she was thinking about you nonstop.

after class, she groans to herself as she realizes she has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. she was too busy stealing glances at you, and thinking about your “date”.

“god, what the hell did i get myself into?”

abby thinks to herself as she walks into her shared dorm. she throws herself onto her bed, her thoughts never leaving you.

meanwhile ellie slams the door behind her as she storms into her room. she can’t help but feel more upset than ever. she saw you and abby walking to class today, and it caused an ugly green wave of jealousy to wash over her. for a moment she actually wanted to go up to abby and punch her right in front of you, though ellie knew you’d never forgive her for that. but ellie also couldn’t just sit around and watch you fall for abby fucking anderson.

suddenly, she pauses in the middle of pacing as an idea hits her; like a lightbulb lighting up over her head. ellie knows what she has to do; she’s going to ruin your date with abby, and she has a million different ideas on how to do it.

xxxxxxx

team abby or team ellie? 👀

taglist: @macaroni676 @swxxtbnny @bellaramseyswife @asabovesobelow666 @thatonementallyillsimp @fofinhamarie @p4ison1vy @harrysslutsstuff @jalousiexx @mostlyhornyandsad @clouded-whispers @elliewilliams4ever @forelliesposts @dergy @uraesthete @4rt3m1ss @3bolivia @calderysuh @milfsandtittyenthusiast @fofinhamarie @mikimambo @elliewilliamsgf69 @ariiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii01 @ellienbilliearemywives @emst4rr @nabiba @bycoincidencesoflife @jennasoneanonly @lizzygoldenr @bready101 @dinasbigtoe @fairlyang @wingedoafbasketballjudge-blog @halfmooneclipse @defencelessarcher @selfcentered-bitch @vswerve @iwantyoutocryforme @hsangel64 @abbysleftbicepp @gabsssssblog @2dmenlackimperfection @cinematicdilfs @masclover111 @mai5mai @teenagedramaqueenlisa

i’m sorry to everyone it didn’t let me tag, some of your blogs weren’t popping up 😭 merry christmas loves, stay safe - vamp <3

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(Looks at lucius all lovey and a bit sad,,,)

Professor Trein would it be okay to pet or hold Lucius? I used to live with cats my whole life... But, you know, the whole, uh... Stuck in a different world thing.

He's also so fluffy,,,,, uuuu I'm just itching to squish his lil face,,, 🥺

A Storied Past.

Your peers often said that Trein was one of the strictest instructors in all of Night Raven College. He was a notorious stickler for the rules, demanded complete attention for his lessons, and lectured students incessantly on wearing their uniforms properly. It didn’t help that his face always looked as though it were frowning in disapproval.

But you saw it just then. The lifting of his brows, the way his grey eyes twinkled with sympathy. Something soft and warm and grandfatherly, like a well-worn blanket enveloping you.

“Of course,” Trein replied, gently depositing a black and white heap onto your lap. Lucius seemed to spill like a slow waterfall, folds of fat and fur folding onto you. “You may cuddle with him for as long as you like.”

Your heart leapt.

“R-Really?!”

“Really.”

With an exhale, Trein lowered himself into a seat beside you, his hands folding in his own lap. He emulated the very poise and decorum he expected of his students.

Trein fixed his gaze on you as you sank your fingers into Lucius’s fur. You half anticipated him to scold you for some minor infraction—not stroking in the right area, doing it with too much or too little force—but the scolding never came. Instead, he simply… watched as you languidly ran a hand up and down his familiar’s back.

A contented purr, like that of a low engine, kicked up. Approval from the cat.

Courage collected.

You dared to prod Lucius’s face. When he reacted with only a quiet mew, you bravely squished both cheeks with your thumb and index finger.

“Mrrrow.”

“Awww, you’re such a good kitty, Lucius!” you cooed. “No wonder why Professor Trein dotes on you.”

“… Do you miss them?” he inquired suddenly. The question, throwing you for a loop. You were thinking that he’d stay silent and simply supervise the entire time you played with the feline.

“Do I miss…?”

“Your own cats,” he clarified. “You kept them in your household in your home world?”

“Yeah.” You didn’t like how that one word came out wobbling like jello, didn’t like how vulnerable you sounded. “I miss them every day. I’m sure they’re being taken care of while I’m gone but…”

A lump had formed in your throat, and it was difficult to swallow. The space was left standing, waiting doe sound to fill it.

“I see.” Trein nodded attentively, picking up the conversation where you had left off. “That is understandable. Our animal companions are like family to us. I would be beside myself, were I to be separated from my beloved Lucius for who knows how long.”

For who knows how long…

You forced yourself to take a breath. A deep one, as if you were going to plunge into the ocean a second later.

“Professor, please be honest with me. Do you… Do you think I’ll ever be able to go home?” you asked, your voice the smallest it had ever been.

Your hand upon Lucius tensed. You tried to focus on him—his fluffiness, and the comfort and safety that it provided. If you could, you’d leap into a cloud of cat fur and bury yourself in it.

“… That, I cannot promise you,” Trein murmured. “However, I’m certain that the headmaster is doing everything in his power to search for a way for you to return.”

You fell silent. Hand on autopilot, absentmindedly stroking Lucius. Distracting yourself from the truth that you had been presented with.

“… It is alright to feel uneasy. Anyone would be in your situation,” came Trein’s calm reassurance. “You find yourself in an unknown land, surrounded by strangers. These are unusual circumstances, to be sure.

“You must allow yourself to feel sorrow and frustration. They are normal aspects of life, of being human. Let it out. Be sad, be angry. Do what you must to relieve yourself.”

He reached out, gingerly grasping your shoulder. Firm, with a slight tremble.

“When my daughters moved out of our home, I was overcome with great grief and loneliness. The house felt too large for one man. The corridors became roads that stretched for too long. I can only imagine you are going through something akin to that.

“Remember that you are never alone. That there is a light at the end of the tunnel, should you hold out for it. And… if you are ever in need of someone to listen, my door is always open for you.”

He attempted at a smile and only succeeded in half of one. Still, it warmed you to your core, almost wetting your eyes.

Maybe… Professor Trein isn’t so bad after all.

[mrsfancyferrari]

Destiny's Will

Summary: You and Carlos were childhood friends until you two were separated before he got to F1. The next time they meet, they're enemies.

Song: Under The Influence by Chris Brown

Author’s note: This might be the longest story I've written! I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Warning: sex scenes at the end. Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 18.6k

MASTERLIST - F1

You and Carlos had been inseparable as childhood friends, spending countless hours playing and exploring together, until your parents had to move and you were separated. It was a painful time for both of you, as you mourned the loss of your dear friend.

You both knew that life would take you on different paths, but you were determined to find Carlos again.

Years went by, and you grew into your own person. While Carlos pursued his dreams in F1, you dedicated yourself to studying mechanics. You knew that being with Carlos would require you to be by his side, and you were determined to find a way for that to happen.

Fate had a different plan in store for you. One day, McLaren, one of the most prestigious teams in F1, offered you a job. It was an unexpected turn of events, but it felt like a sign that your paths were destined to cross again.

With this opportunity, you realized that not only would you have the chance to work in the same industry as Carlos, but you could also potentially be reunited with your childhood friend.

The excitement and hope filled your heart as you eagerly accepted the job offer, knowing that this was the beginning of a new chapter in your lives.

It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and you couldn't resist.

However, little did you know that this decision would make you an enemy to Carlos. . . .

Today, you were going to get a tour of the paddock and the McLaren's garage.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nerves. You wore a sleek black McLaren team jacket, proudly displaying the team's logo on your chest.

Underneath, you had chosen a crisp white shirt, symbolizing your dedication to professionalism and attention to detail.

Completing the ensemble were tailored black pants and polished leather shoes, reflecting your commitment to excellence in every aspect of your life.

Adjusting your tie one last time, you took a deep breath and reminded yourself that today was not just about impressing your colleagues, but also about showing Carlos that you had made something of yourself too.

As you looked at the bracelet that you wore, a surge of nostalgia washed over you. You remembered the day you and Carlos made those bracelets for each other, promising to always stay connected no matter where life took you. It was a symbol of your unbreakable bond and the unwavering friendship you shared.

When you heard the honk of your Uber, you quickly left your apartment, excitedly locking the door behind you. As you settled into the car, you couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and anticipation building up.

The ride to the paddock was filled with thoughts of what the day would bring, wondering if you would have a chance encounter with Carlos and how he would react to seeing you in the McLaren team jacket. . . .

As you walked through the bustling paddock, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and excitement. The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of engines roaring filled the air, creating an atmosphere of adrenaline and anticipation.

You couldn't wait to see the state-of-the-art equipment and meet the talented engineers who made it all possible.

Stepping into the McLaren's garage, you were greeted by a symphony of metallic clinks and the sight of mechanics working diligently on the sleek race cars. The precision and attention to detail were evident in every corner, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride knowing that you were now a part of his world.

As you stood in awe of the McLaren garage, a staff member approached you and introduced themselves as Sarah, the tour guide assigned to show you around.

"Welcome to McLaren! We're thrilled to have you here," she said enthusiastically. "Let me show you our state-of-the-art facilities and introduce you to some of the talented engineers who make it all happen."

You followed Sarah, eager to soak in every detail and seize this opportunity to learn from the best in the industry.

As you walked together, Sarah pointed out various areas of the garage, explaining the intricate processes involved in preparing the race cars for competition. You listened attentively, asking questions and marveling at the level of expertise displayed by the mechanics.

The conversation flowed easily, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie as Sarah shared stories of her own journey within the team.

It was clear that everyone at McLaren shared a passion for excellence and a dedication to pushing the boundaries of what was possible in the world of motorsport.

"Since you are assigned to be Lando's engineer," Sarah stated, "you will have to be able to keep a professional relationship with him. It's important to establish clear boundaries and maintain a focus on your responsibilities. However, don't worry, Lando is a great guy to work with, and I'm sure you'll build a strong working relationship with him."

You nodded, taking in Sarah's advice and feeling a renewed sense of determination to excel in your role as Lando's engineer.

As you listened to Sarah's advice, a flood of memories rushed back to your mind. You couldn't help but smile as you remembered the days when you and Lando were childhood friends, racing go-karts together and dreaming of one day making it big in the world of motorsport with Carlos.

Despite the professional boundaries that now needed to be established, you were grateful for the opportunity to reconnect with an old friend and work alongside him in this prestigious team.

Deep down, you knew that your shared history would only strengthen the bond between you, both on and off the track.

"Oh there he is, Lando Norris," Sarah said, seeing him talking to Oscar in the room.

As you looked over at Lando, you couldn't help but notice how much he had grown since those go-karting days. He carried himself with a newfound confidence and maturity, a testament to the years of hard work and dedication he had put into his racing career.

Gone were the boyish features and wide-eyed enthusiasm, replaced by the steely determination of a seasoned professional.

Yet, despite the changes, there was still a spark in Lando's eyes that reminded you of the child who would stay up all night discussing racing strategies and dreaming of victory.

It was a reminder that, underneath the polished exterior, he was still the same passionate and driven individual you had known all those years ago.

His eyes then went to you as his name was called, his eyes flicked from identifying you to recognizing you, and a wide smile spread across his face.

It was a heartwarming moment as you saw the genuine excitement and warmth in his eyes, confirming that the bond you once shared as childhood friends was still alive and well.

"Lando, this is-" Sarah tried to introduce you but there was no need. You already knew each other too well to forget.

"Y/N! What the hell?" Lando yelled in excitement, running towards you and leaving Oscar in a flash.

Sarah was shocked when Lando had said your name, looking at you for some explanation. She looked at you, waiting for an explanation as to how you knew each other so well.

As Lando reached you, he enveloped you in a bear hug, lifting you off the ground for a moment. The familiar warmth and strength of his embrace instantly transported you back to the countless playful wrestling matches you had as kids.

It was a nostalgic reminder of the unbreakable bond that had formed between you, a bond that had withstood the test of time and distance.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her bewildered expression. "Surprise," you said, flashing a mischievous grin. "Lando and I go way back. Childhood friends, in fact."

"Y/N! I can't believe you're here!" Lando repeated, his pitch getting higher with excitement.

"Lando, it's so great to see you too," you said, returning his hug with equal enthusiasm. "I couldn't pass up the opportunity to come and support you at such a momentous race. Plus, I wanted to see the incredible racer you've become with my own eyes."

Lando beamed at your words, his eyes shining with gratitude and excitement.

"I can't wait to catch up and hear all about your journey," you added, knowing that there were countless stories and experiences to share since the last time you saw each other.

"So you were the new engineer that graduated from that rich school huh?"

"I've gotten some skills under my sleeves," You smirked, giving out your hand. "It's nice working with you Mr. Norris."

Lando looked disguised at your formalities to him, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter at his reaction. "Mr. Norris? Seriously?" he exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Come on, Y/N, we're way past that. Just call me Lando, like you always did."

You chuckled and nodded, realizing that no matter how much time had passed, some things would never change between the two of you. "Alright, Lando, you got it. Let's get to work and show them what we're capable of."

"Oh Oscar, come over to meet my childhood friend Y/N!" Lando called over Oscar, who looked shy but intrigued.

You extended your hand and gave him a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, Oscar. I have heard so much about you. We're going to make a great team."

Oscar's shyness melted away as he shook your hand, and he replied, "I'm looking forward to it, Y/N. Lando speaks highly of you."

As you and Lando started reminiscing about your childhood adventures, Oscar's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Tell me more! What kind of mischief did you two get into?" he asked eagerly.

You and Lando exchanged mischievous grins before launching into a series of stories, recounting the epic treehouse battles, daring bike stunts, and secret hideouts that defined your friendship.

Oscar listened intently, captivated by the bond you both shared and excited to be a part of the team.

"Have you met Carlos? I knew you were very close to him before you had to move," Lando asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

"Actually, I haven't had the chance to meet Carlos yet," you replied, a hint of nostalgia in your voice. "We lost touch after I moved, but I'm glad to hear that you've stayed close. How is he?"

"I'm sure he'd love to catch up with you," Lando said with a smile. "He's doing well since he moved to being in Ferrari. You should find out yourself, Y/N. I know he would be thrilled to reconnect with you."

"I will, when the time comes," you said, understanding the importance of not distracting Carlos before an important race.

"Today is all about getting to know the team and settling into our new roles. But I'm definitely looking forward to catching up with Carlos and hearing about his experiences in Ferrari."

You spent the rest of the day learning about McLaren's garage. The McLaren garage is a state-of-the-art facility that houses the team's cars, equipment, and personnel.

It is a highly organised and efficient workspace, designed to maximise the team's performance on the track.

The garage is divided into several distinct areas, each with a specific function. The main work area is where the mechanics and engineers work on the cars, making adjustments and repairs as needed. There is also a separate area for the pit crew, who are responsible for the lightning-fast tyre changes during pit stops.

The garage also features a dedicated area for the team's data analysis, where engineers pore over telemetry and other data to identify areas for improvement.

The attention to detail and the level of organisation in the McLaren garage is truly impressive, and it is clear that the team leaves no stone unturned in their pursuit of success. . . . .

After the race, you went up to Lando to congratulate him on getting on the podium.

"Lando, that was an incredible drive! You really showed your talent out there today," You said, giving him a hug.

Lando smiled, still buzzing from the adrenaline of the race. "Thanks Y/N. The team has worked so hard, and it's great to be able to deliver a podium for them."

"You were so composed under pressure, especially towards the end when you were defending that position. It must have been nerve-wracking, but you handled it brilliantly," You commented, impressed by his mature performance.

Lando nodded. "It wasn't easy, but I just focused on hitting my marks and not making any mistakes. The car felt great, and I knew if I could just keep it together, I had a shot at the podium."

"Well, you more than delivered. This is just the start for you, I'm sure. With performances like that, the sky's the limit. Congratulations again, Lando. You should be very proud of yourself today," You said, giving him a warm pat on the back.

Carlos had gotten 2nd place, which you were extremely happy about. He had put in so much hard work and dedication, and it was wonderful to see that effort pay off. As he was bombarded with interviews, you tried to talk to him, to offer your congratulations and share in his success.

However, the throngs of reporters and cameras made it difficult to get a moment alone with him. You could see the pride and excitement on his face, and it filled you with joy to witness his achievement. Even though you couldn't speak with him directly, just being there to support him meant the world.

As Lando stepped up to the podium, the opening notes of the British national anthem began to play. A hush fell over the stadium as the crowd rose to their feet, placing their hands over their hearts in a show of respect and national pride.

The stirring melody filled the air, evoking a sense of tradition and history that resonated deeply with the British athletes and spectators alike.

Carlos was second place and looked proud of himself as he looked over at the crowd. He had given it his all during the competition and was pleased with the result. The hard work and dedication he had put in over the past months had paid off.

As Carlos stood on the podium, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. He knew that coming in second place was no small feat, and he was grateful for the opportunity to showcase his skills. The crowd's cheers and applause filled him with a surge of pride, and he couldn't wait to celebrate his achievement with his team and loved ones.

You were in the crowd, supporting Lando, but your eyes were fixed on Carlos the whole time.

Carlos has always been a handsome man, even from a young age. His chiselled jawline and piercing brown eyes have always been captivating, drawing the attention of those around him.

As he has matured, his features have only become more refined and attractive.

Now, in his later years, Carlos' good looks have only improved. His once youthful features have developed a distinguished, sophisticated air about them. The slight lines around his eyes only serve to enhance his rugged charm, making him all the more alluring.

It is clear that Carlos has aged gracefully, his natural handsomeness only growing more pronounced with time.

You've always had a crush on him, ever since you two were young. There was just something about him that captivated you - his kind eyes, his infectious laugh, the way he carried himself with such confidence. Even back then, you found yourself drawn to him, stealing glances when you thought he wasn't looking.

And now, seeing him face-to-face again after all these years, those feelings have only grown stronger. The way he smiles, the sound of his voice, the little mannerisms you had never forgotten - it's all flooding back, and you can feel your heart racing.

You find yourself falling for him all over again, and you can't help but wonder if he feels the same way too. . . .

Carlos stood on the podium, a wide grin spreading across his face as he gazed out at the crowd. His eyes scanned the sea of faces.

He remembered the time when they were young and he came in second place, and you were there cheering me on like a madman.

He couldn't help but chuckle, the memory flooding back to him. "How could I forget?" he muttered to himself.

When the results were announced, you threw your arms around him. "Second place, you legend! I'm so proud of you."

He looked at you, eyes shining. "Thanks, my friend but I wish I had gotten first place for you,"

Your face blushed at his words, a mix of joy and embarrassment washing over you. "Oh Carlos, you don't have to do that. Just having you here, seeing you succeed, is enough for me," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity.

"Just make sure you're here when I get first place okay?"

"Of course! I'll always be by your side!"

It was one of the last races you saw of Carlos and you were there with him to cheer for him all the way to the finish line . . .

He continued to scan the crowd, his eyes darting from face to face until they suddenly caught someone else's eyes.

His eyes widened in surprise as he tried to identify them, but he was certain that it was you. Memories of your shared past came rushing back, and a mix of emotions flooded over him - excitement, curiosity, and perhaps even a hint of nervousness.

Your features were still the same from when you were young. Your bright, expressive eyes had the same warm, captivating gaze that had always drawn people in. The gentle curves of your face, the delicate structure of your cheekbones and jawline, remained unchanged, giving you a timeless beauty.

Even the small, unique details - the faint freckles dusting your nose, the slight upturn of your lips when you smiled - were exactly as they had been years ago, a testament to your enduring allure.

Time had done nothing to diminish the striking, natural elegance that had always been a part of you.

When our eyes met, your face fell as you realized he was staring at you. The intensity of his gaze caught you off guard, sending a shiver down your spine.

In that moment, you felt exposed, like he could see right through you. His unwavering stare made you suddenly self-conscious, unsure of how to react. The tension hung heavy in the air, leaving you feeling uneasy and uncertain.

You knew instinctively that he would stop at nothing to track you down and locate your whereabouts.

No matter how hard you tried to evade his search, you were acutely aware that his unwavering resolve would lead him directly to you.

You weren’t ready to face him, to face his younger self, who just wants to yell at you for leaving him at his worst moment. . . .

When the podium celebration was over, the McLaren team went into the garage to celebrate more for Lando's win. The team was ecstatic and filled with joy after seeing their driver secure a well-deserved victory.

Inside the garage, the mechanics, engineers, and the entire crew gathered to congratulate Lando and toast to the team's success. It was a moment of pure elation as they savored the triumph and looked forward to more victories in the future.

You were walking to the celebration when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. You whirled around, startled, ready to defend yourself.

But then you recognized the person - it was Carlos.

Carlos was still a sight to behold, even as the years had passed. His features had only grown more refined and distinguished with time. Standing just a few centimeters away, one couldn't help but be captivated by the striking symmetry of his face.

His strong jawline and chiseled cheekbones gave him an air of rugged masculinity, while his deep, soulful eyes conveyed an intensity that was both alluring and compelling. The subtle lines that had formed around those eyes only served to lend him an air of wisdom and experience, a testament to the life he had lived.

His full, sensual lips remained as tempting as they had been in their youth, beckoning to be kissed.

Even his brown messy hair added to his undeniable charisma, a visual representation of the maturity and refinement that now graced his appearance.

"Carlos, I... I didn't expect to see you here," You stammered, caught off guard by Carlos' sudden appearance. The words tumbled out hesitantly, as you struggled to regain your composure.

Carlos spoke quickly, his tone rushed and urgent. "Y/N L/N, it is you. I wasn’t being delusional. I'm sorry, I just - I had to come to see. I couldn't stay away any longer."

I felt my heart racing, unsure of how to respond. "Carlos-"

“Hey guys, what’s going on here, a family reunion?” Lando said, coming out of the corner and unaware of the tension.

“You knew?” Carlos asked his best friend, clearly offended that this was hidden.

“Of course I knew, she’s my engineer, I have to know her,“ Lando stated as he stood beside you, “Well I knew today but we all have history don’t we?”

Carlos was still in shock at your sudden appearance. We had been close friends when we were young, but you had disappeared years ago. Now, here you are, unexpectedly reappearing as Lando's engineer.

Carlos couldn't believe his eyes. After all this time, you had suddenly reemerged, and in such an unexpected role. Carlos struggled to process what was happening, as you stood before him, once again a part of his life, but in a completely new capacity.

The reunion was undoubtedly surprising and disorienting for Carlos. Just the sight of me, after so long, was enough to leave him reeling. It was as if the past had come rushing back, bringing with it a whirlwind of emotions and questions.

“I’d hate to ruin your reunion but I’ve got a win to celebrate and the team wants to toast our lucky charm,” Lando explained, gesturing to you with a smile. “But you two have the dinner to talk,”

Lando didn’t even give you time to say goodbye before dragging you away.

When you looked back to even get a glimpse of him, Carlos' eyes locked onto your, burning with a raw, primal desire. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine, igniting a spark deep within you. His eyes smoldered with an unspoken hunger, yearning to devour you wholly.

There was a wild, untamed quality to his stare that made your breath catch in your throat. You could feel the weight of his desire pressing against you, electrifying every nerve.

You must have seen his expressions wrong because there was no way he liked you or desired you in that way.

The McLaren crew and Lando welcomed you with open arms, and you spent the rest of the night celebrating Lando’s win together. Over drinks and laughter, you got to know the team on a more personal level, gaining insights into their passions, aspirations, and the camaraderie that fuels their success.

It was a night filled with shared stories, friendly banter, and a genuine sense of excitement for the future. As the evening drew to a close, you felt a deeper connection to the McLaren family, inspired by their dedication and the palpable energy that permeated the room.

It was an unforgettable experience, and you couldn't help but feel honored to have been a part of it.

As you unlocked the door to your apartment, a wave of guilt washed over you. It was in this moment that you recalled how you had abruptly disappeared from Carlos' life without any explanation.

The weight of your actions settled heavily on your conscience, and you couldn't help but feel remorseful for leaving him in the dark. The realization hit you hard, and you knew that you had to find a way to make amends for the pain you had caused.

But with no contact information for Carlos, you were left feeling helpless and unsure of how to reach out to him.

No matter how hard you tried to focus on the data in front of you, Carlos's presence lingered in your thoughts like an unwelcome guest.

Each line of code and every spreadsheet cell seemed to remind you of his piercing gaze, his touch, and the unspoken tension between you. It was as if the numbers and figures on the screen were mocking your attempts to escape the memories of that night.

As you scrolled through the data, a mix of longing and regret washed over you, fueling a desire to find a way to reconnect with Carlos and make things right.

But with each passing minute, the task of finding his contact information felt more daunting and elusive, leaving you in a state of uncertainty and longing.

You'll see him at the group dinner. You'll explain everything to him at the dinner party. You tried to reassure yourself but it didn't reduce the thoughts of Carlos hating you even more.

You rehearsed the words over and over in your mind, hoping that they would come out just right when you finally saw Carlos at the group dinner. You wanted to apologize, to explain yourself, and to make things right between the two of you.

But deep down, a part of you feared that your words would fall on deaf ears, that Carlos would never be able to forgive you for what you had done.

The thought of facing him at the group dinner filled you with a mix of anxiety and anticipation, as you prepared yourself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead.

There were two possible outcomes that weighed heavily on your mind as you prepared for the conversation with Carlos at the group dinner.

Either he would listen to your explanation and find it in his heart to forgive you, or he would remain resentful and unwilling to give you a second chance.

The uncertainty of which path the conversation would take only intensified your anxiety, leaving you on edge as you awaited the moment when you would finally face Carlos.

You just hoped that he would listen to you with an open heart and give you the opportunity to express your remorse.

You knew that words alone might not be enough to mend the broken trust between you, but you were willing to try anything to salvage what was left of your relationship with Carlos. . . .

╔═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╗

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

As you stood in front of the mirror, examining the various necklaces laid out on your dresser, you couldn't help but feel a wave of indecision wash over you.

Should you go for the delicate silver pendant that your mom had given you on your last year? Or perhaps the bold statement necklace that always seemed to catch everyone's attention?

The weight of the decision felt overwhelming, as if the necklace you choose could somehow determine the outcome of the conversation you were about to have with Carlos.

As a knock came on your door, Lando's voice came through, breaking your train of thought. "Hey, are you ready?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement.

You turned away from the mirror and walked towards the door and opening it for him, feeling a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. "Almost," you replied, trying to hide your indecision. "Just give me a few more minutes."

Lando nodded understandingly, and you couldn't help but wonder if he could sense the weight of the decision you were about to make.

As you glanced back at the mirror, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that this choice was more than just about a piece of jewelry. It symbolized your inner struggle and the uncertainty of the path ahead.

The weight of the decision seemed to hang in the air, intertwining with your emotions, as you knew that whatever necklace you chose would carry a piece of your heart into that conversation with Carlos.

"I would pick the silver necklace, if that's what you're debating about," Lando commented as he leaned against the wall.

"Thanks Lando! We can go now," You replied, quickly clipping the necklace and grabbing your handbag before heading for Lando's car.

As you sat in the passenger seat of Lando's car, the nervous energy in the air was palpable. The drive to the restaurant felt like a journey into the unknown, not just because of the impending conversation with Carlos, but also because you were about to reunite with the other drivers who were once your childhood friends.

Memories flooded your mind as you thought about the times you spent racing through the streets, laughing and dreaming together.

But now, things were different. Would they still see you as the same person? Would they understand the choices you've made and the struggles you've faced?

These questions swirled in your mind, adding to the already overwhelming weight of the decision you had made in choosing the silver necklace.

Meeting them now, with the weight of your decision hanging over you, felt like a moment of truth - a chance to showcase who you had become and how far you had come.

As the car pulled up to the restaurant, you took a deep breath, clutching the silver necklace for strength, and stepped out into the unknown, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

As you walked into the restaurant with Lando, a staff member guided you to the reserved area where your childhood friends were gathered.

The familiar faces brought a mix of comfort and anticipation, but you couldn't help notice the absence of Carlos, Charles, Oscar and more.

Their absence added an extra layer of uncertainty to the already weighty decision you had made, leaving you wondering how their reactions would shape the conversation to come.

"No way, is that Y/N?" Max yelled as soon as he saw you, being one of your childhood friends.

The excitement in his voice eased some of the tension you were feeling, and you couldn't help but smile, knowing that at least one person was genuinely happy to see you.

Max rushed over to you, his eyes wide with excitement. "Guys, you won't believe who just walked in!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards you.

As the rest of the group turned their heads, Max introduced you one by one, each of them greeting you with warm smiles and expressions of surprise. The atmosphere shifted from uncertainty to familiarity as you engaged in lively conversation, reminiscing about the good old times and catching up on each other's lives.

It was a heartwarming reunion that reaffirmed the deep bond you all shared, reminding you that despite the choices and struggles you had faced, your friendship remained intact.

"Sorry we're late," Charles' voice came through the restaurant and everyone turned around to see them. Their arrival brought a mix of relief and anxiety, as you wondered how they would react to your presence.

As you turned to look at Carlos, your heart skipped a beat. He was wearing a crisp white shirt that accentuated his tan skin, paired with dark jeans and brown leather shoes. His hair was neatly styled, and a silver watch adorned his wrist.

The sight of him brought back a flood of memories, and you couldn't help but notice the slight curve of his lips as he caught your gaze.

It was a bittersweet moment, knowing that his presence could either strengthen the bond you once shared or further complicate the weighty decision you had made.

As you locked eyes with Carlos, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, unsure of what his reaction would be.

You followed Carlos with your eyes to his seat, which happened to be right in front of you at the table.

As you settled better into your chair, you couldn't help but notice the subtle tension in the air. Carlos glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before turning his attention to the conversation at hand.

The aroma of the freshly cooked dishes filled the air as the waitstaff brought out steaming plates of food, placing them in front of each person. The sight of the delicious spread added to the already palpable tension in the room, as everyone's focus shifted from conversation to the culinary delights before them.

As the group began to dig into their meals, the clinking of cutlery against plates filled the space, momentarily breaking the small silence that had settled over the table.

With each stolen glance from Carlos, you couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were running through his mind. His eyes seemed to hold a mix of curiosity, longing, and perhaps a hint of regret, leaving you even more uncertain about the impact of your presence on this reunion.

You decided to break the tension by joining the conversation with Lando and Max, discussing the latest Formula 1 race and sharing your own insights. As you spoke, you noticed Carlos listening intently, his eyes flickering between you and the other two.

As you engaged in the conversation with Lando and Max, the room seemed to come alive with energy.

The three of you exchanged ideas, shared laughter, and debated passionately about the race. Carlos, though still observing from afar, seemed captivated by your animated discussion, his eyes betraying a mix of admiration and intrigue.

When the last morsel of food was taken away, you finally mustered the courage to break the tension. With a subtle gesture, you motioned for Carlos to follow you away from the table.

He looked momentarily surprised, but nodded in agreement and followed you. As you walked towards a quieter corner of the room, you could feel your heart pounding, unsure of what would transpire in this private conversation.

The moment had come for you to address the unresolved emotions and confront the weighty decision that had brought you both here.

You turned around, and for a brief moment, you were able to admire Carlos. His face, usually stoic and unreadable, now held a hint of vulnerability mixed with determination. His eyes, deep and intense, seemed to search for answers within your gaze.

The way he carried himself spoke of a man accustomed to command and control, yet there was a softness to his demeanor that you had never seen before.

With a deep breath, you began the conversation, ready to confront the emotions and decisions that had brought you both to this pivotal moment.

"First of all, I want to say that I'm sorry for leaving you before without any answers," you started, unable to look into his eyes. "I never meant to hurt you, Carlos. It's just that... I was confused and scared."

"It's okay Cariño, you being here is all that matters to me," Carlos said, his voice filled with sincerity and understanding. "I've missed you so much, and I just want to hear what you have to say."

As you quickly looked up at the nickname he used, the same one that he used to call you before you left, you felt a rush of nostalgia wash over you. It was a bittersweet reminder of the connection you once shared.

You smiled at his choice of words, realizing that despite the time and distance apart, a part of him still held onto the memories and feelings that had brought you together in the first place.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, and began recounting the events that had transpired since the day you left with your parents.

From the sacrifices you made to pursue your dreams of becoming an engineer, to the challenges you faced in your journey, you poured your heart out to Carlos. He listened intently, hanging onto every word, as you shared how your hard work and dedication led you to the opportunity of a lifetime - being hired by McLaren as Lando's engineer.

As you spoke, you could see the admiration in his eyes, mixed with a hint of pride for your achievements. The weight of your decision and the emotions that surrounded it slowly lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and hope for what the future held for both of you.

The more you shared, the more you realized how much you had missed having him by your side.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, as if no time had passed, and it seemed that both of you were willing to confront the emotions and decisions that had brought you to this pivotal moment.

"Wow Y/N, it looks like you've been through a lot," he said after you finished talking. "I can't imagine how challenging it must have been for you."

As he spoke those words, tears welled up in your eyes, catching you by surprise. No one had ever shown such genuine empathy and understanding towards your struggles before.

The tears were a release of all the pent-up emotions you had carried within you for so long, a testament to the profound impact Carlos had on your heart.

In that moment, you realized that you had found someone who truly cared about your happiness and well-being, and it filled you with gratitude and a deep sense of connection.

You were brought into a warm embrace, your face tucked into the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, and you felt a sense of safety and comfort that you hadn't experienced in years.

As the tears continued to flow, you could feel his steady heartbeat against your cheek, a rhythmic reminder that you were not alone. All the pain, the sacrifices, and the uncertainties faded away, replaced by a profound feeling of being understood and cherished.

After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice filled with a mix of pain and hope. "I've missed you every day since you left," he repeated, his vulnerability echoing in the quiet corner of the room.

You took a deep breath and held onto his embrace a little tighter, feeling the weight of his words. With tears still streaming down your face, you whispered, "I missed you too, Carlos. More than you'll ever know."

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you both stayed there, wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the presence and comfort that only each other could provide. The outside world faded away as you reveled in the joy of being reunited and the realization that this was where you were meant to be.

The tears of both pain and happiness continued to flow, but they were now accompanied by a sense of renewed hope and a shared understanding that together, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

After you then realized that you had spent more than an hour away from the group, you quickly moved out of the embrace, embarrassed of taking so much of Carlos' time.

"I'm so sorry," you stammered, wiping away the tears. "I didn't mean to keep you for so long. We should probably go back now."

Carlos gently held your hand and smiled, "Don't worry about it. This time with you is more important to me than anything else."

You smiled back at Carlos, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "Thank you for understanding," you said softly. "It means the world to me to have someone like you in my life."

As you and Carlos continued to talk, the conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, shared memories, and genuine connection. It was as if no time had passed since you last saw each other.

The more you talked, the more you realized how much you had missed his presence in your life. Finally, mustering up the courage, you asked Carlos if you could have his number to stay in touch.

Without any hesitation, he smiled and gladly gave it to you, expressing his own desire to keep the connection alive.

"Should we join the others now?" You asked reluctantly.

"Cariño, I only came here to talk to you. We can do whatever you'd like."

"Even. . ."

That's when you woke up in your bed, the remnants of the dream still clinging to your thoughts. What had happened last night? Was it all just a figment of your imagination?

The emotions and sensations felt so real, but now they have slipped through your fingers like sand.

Even though it felt so real, you couldn't help but question whether it was all just a dream. How could something that intense and meaningful have happened overnight? Was it just your imagination playing tricks on you?

As you lay there in bed, the memories of your encounter with Carlos lingered, leaving you wondering if it was a sign of something more or simply a figment of your subconscious.

You thought of the only thing that could confirm your time with Carlos was real. His number.

You reached over to your nightstand and grabbed your phone, heart pounding with anticipation. Scrolling through your contacts, you found Carlos' name right where you had hoped it would be.

It was a small but undeniable confirmation that your encounter with him had indeed been real, and that the connection you felt was not just a figment of your imagination.

As you stared at Carlos' name on your phone screen, a sense of relief washed over you. It was a joyful realization that you had indeed reconnected with your best friend, and the bond you thought you had lost was now restored.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as you realized that today was the last day in Canada before everyone had to travel to Spain for the next grand prix.

You knew that you had to leave the comfort of this dreamlike encounter with Carlos and return to the reality of your responsibilities in the paddock, helping the McLaren crew.

As you gathered your thoughts and prepared to face the day, you couldn't help but carry the memory of your connection with Carlos with you, finding solace in the fact that even though the dream may have ended, the bond you shared was still intact.

You knew that as the last day in Canada came to an end, all the drivers would be either already at Spain or were getting a plane there now.

Carlos would be among them, and the thought of not seeing him for the next few days filled you with a sense of melancholy.

However, you took comfort in the fact that your encounter had been real and that the bond you shared was still intact, even if you were physically separated for a while.

As you prepared to face the day and fulfill your responsibilities in the paddock, you carried the memory of your connection with Carlos with you, knowing that it would sustain you until you were reunited again.

Putting on your McLaren uniform, you felt a surge of excitement and determination. You climbed into your car and drove off to the paddock, excited to do your job and tried to place Carlos at the back of your mind.

As soon as you arrived at the paddock, you were immediately put to work gathering data for the upcoming race. Your focus shifted from thoughts of Carlos to the tasks at hand, as you meticulously collected and analyzed the necessary information.

The hustle and bustle of the paddock provided a welcome distraction, allowing you to immerse yourself in the fast-paced world of Formula 1 and temporarily forget about the melancholy of being physically separated from Carlos.

Every second counted, and you focused all your energy on fulfilling your responsibilities with precision and efficiency.

The staff relied on your expertise, and you worked tirelessly to ensure that everything was in order for the upcoming race in Spain.

You were responsible for coordinating with the engineers and mechanics to gather and analyze data on the car's performance.

This involved monitoring telemetry, conducting simulations, and making adjustments to optimize the car's setup. You played a crucial role in strategizing race tactics, analyzing competitors' performance, and providing valuable insights to the team.

Your attention to detail and dedication to your responsibilities were vital in ensuring the team's success on race day.

When you were finally able to take a break from your intense work in the paddock, you leaned against a nearby wall, gasping for breath. The physical and mental exertion had taken its toll, leaving you feeling drained and in need of a moment to recuperate.

Slowly, you closed your eyes and let the sounds of the bustling paddock fade into the background, allowing yourself a brief moment of respite before diving back into the fast-paced world of Formula 1.

Suddenly, something cold touched your face and you jumped at the feeling, opening your eyes to see what it was. To your surprise, Carlos stood before you, grinning mischievously as he held a can of ice-cold soda.

"I thought you could use a refreshing break," he said, his eyes sparkling with warmth and affection.

"Carlos? Aren't you supposed to be in Spain?" you asked as you took the soda from his hands and allowed it to cool your body.

Carlos chuckled and leaned in closer, his eyes locked with yours. "I wanted to see you before I leave," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

You froze, his words sinking in. What did Carlos mean by "I wanted to see you"? Was he hinting at something? Your mind raced with possibilities, unsure of how to interpret his words.

The uncertainty gnawed at you, leaving you with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to hide your own feelings of confusion and excitement. "It's great to see you, Carlos," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of curiosity. "But why did you want to see me before you leave? Is there something you wanted to talk about?"

As he tucked a hair strand behind your ear, his hand lingered, conveying a tenderness that left you breathless. "Because I want to see you every day," he whispered softly, his eyes searching yours. "I don't know what it is, but I missed you even though I saw you yesterday."

A shiver went down your back as Carlos's words sank in, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

You were filled with happiness and relief that there were no paparazzi lurking nearby, ready to capture this moment between the two of you and twist it into a scandalous rumor. It was a precious moment, meant to be cherished in the privacy of the paddock.

"You must have missed me because it's still a shock that I'm here with you after all these years, right?"

"Nope," he denied, his eyes trained on you. "I miss you because I'm not going to be able to see you every day from today,"

"We still will. We can still talk over the phone when either of us isn't busy,"

"But that's not enough Cariño," Carlos continued, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel the heat coming from your cheeks, a rosy blush creeping up as Carlos's words sank in. You weren't used to someone expressing their feelings so openly and directly, and it both thrilled and unnerved you.

It was a vulnerability you hadn't experienced before, but deep down, you couldn't deny the warmth and excitement that filled your heart.

Reality then hit you like a ton of bricks. You were just an engineer of McLaren, while he was a popular F1 driver with a massive fan base and a glamorous lifestyle.

The difference in status and fame between the two of you was undeniable, and it suddenly dawned on you that pursuing a relationship with Carlos would come with its own set of challenges and potential complications.

Despite the warmth and affection in his words, you couldn't ignore the practical obstacles that lay ahead.

"Oh my break is over, Carlos," you quickly said, gently pushing his messy hair out of his eyes before running off. "See you in Spain,"

As you made your way back to work, your mind was filled with conflicting emotions.

On one hand, you couldn't deny the deep connection you felt with Carlos, but on the other hand, the practical obstacles and potential complications of a relationship with him were impossible to ignore.

You knew that maintaining a long-distance relationship would be difficult, especially with both of your busy schedules.

Carlos couldn't help but smirk as he watched you run off, your hair flowing behind you. He watched you intently as you ran over to the other staff, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

He knew that pursuing a relationship with you would be challenging, but he was willing to take on those obstacles.

As he stood there, he made a silent promise to himself that he would do whatever it took to make it work, even if it meant defying the odds and finding a way to bridge the distance between you.

"Cariño, don't worry, I won't let you slip away this time," he muttered to himself, determined to overcome the challenges and bridge the distance between them, no matter what it took. . . .

Sitting alone in your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of regret wash over you. You wished you hadn't run away from Carlos earlier, and now you were anxiously counting down the days until your flight to Spain.

As you looked out the window, you couldn't help but wonder if you were making the right decision. Would the challenges and complications be worth it in the end?

Only time would tell, but for now, all you could do was wait and hope for the best.

You then looked at the McLaren uniform that was on your bed and remembered that you were basically enemies, working in different teams.

The competitive nature of your respective careers added another layer of complexity to the already challenging situation. It seemed like fate was playing a cruel joke on you, intertwining your lives in a way that presented both opportunity and conflict.

Would you be able to navigate the delicate balance between love and rivalry, or would it ultimately tear you apart?

As you arrived in Spain, you couldn't wait to go to your room and finally get some much-needed rest. The long flight had left you exhausted, both physically and mentally. You hoped that a good night's sleep would help clear your mind and bring some clarity to the complex situation you found yourself in.

As you opened the door to your room, a sense of tranquility washed over you. The soft, muted colors of the walls and the gentle glow of the bedside lamp created a soothing atmosphere.

Your eyes were drawn to the large window, through which the warm Spanish sunlight streamed in, casting a golden hue on the room. The curtains gently swayed in the breeze, inviting you to relax and unwind.

You took a moment to appreciate the simple yet elegant decor of the room. The comfortable bed, adorned with crisp white linens and plump pillows, beckoned you to sink into its embrace.

A small desk tucked away in the corner provided a cozy space for you to work or reflect, while a plush armchair in the opposite corner offered a spot for quiet contemplation.

The room emanated a sense of serenity and possibility, providing the perfect backdrop for you to gather your thoughts and make sense of the intricate web of emotions that entangled your heart.

You immediately jumped into the bed and fell into a deep sleep, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. As you drifted off, your mind was filled with dreams and fragments of the tumultuous journey that had brought you here.

In that moment, the complexities of love and rivalry faded away, and you found solace in the peaceful embrace of sleep, hoping that clarity would come with the dawn.

"So how did you sleep for your first coming with McLaren?" Sarah, a staff asked you as you walked through the new paddock of Spain.

You smiled and replied, "I had the most restful sleep in a long time. The tranquility of the room and the gentle breeze made all the difference."

Sarah then proceeded to outline your tasks for the upcoming month as an engineer. She emphasized the importance of fine-tuning the car's aerodynamics and optimizing its performance to ensure that Lando would have every advantage on the track.

She emphasized the need to carefully analyze data from previous races, identify areas for improvement, and collaborate with the rest of the team to implement changes. She expressed confidence in your abilities and reiterated the team's goal of securing a podium finish once again.

With renewed determination, you eagerly embraced the challenges ahead, ready to contribute your expertise and help propel McLaren to further success.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as you settled into the small open office to analyze the data. At first, the solitude seemed like a blessing, allowing you to focus without distractions.

But as the clock struck midnight and you found yourself the only one there, the isolation became suffocating. The hum of the air conditioning seemed louder, the darkness more oppressive, and the weight of responsibility heavier than ever.

As the days went by and the drivers finally arrived at the paddock, you devised a plan to avoid Carlos. You strategically planned your tasks and schedule, making sure to coordinate with Sarah to ensure minimal overlap with Carlos's presence.

You focused on maximizing your productivity during the times when he would be occupied with his own responsibilities, effectively minimizing any potential encounters and maintaining a professional atmosphere within the team.

"You should take a break," someone whispered behind your back. Startled, you jumped at the voice and turned to see Carlos standing there with a concerned expression.

"Carlos! How did you get here?" You yelled, looking around for any cameras that could capture the both of you.

"I came to see you, I told you that I miss you when you're not around," Carlos said effortlessly as if it didn't just give you a heart attack.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, and you found yourself becoming shy under his gaze. The way he effortlessly expressed his feelings made your heart race, despite your best efforts to maintain a professional atmosphere.

You couldn't help but wonder if there was a way to balance your personal connection with Carlos while also prioritizing your responsibilities to the team.

As you stammered a response, your mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation.

Did Carlos really miss you? Or was he just playing with your emotions?

You couldn't deny the flutter of hope that rose within you, but you also knew that getting involved with a teammate of an enemy could jeopardize your professional relationship and the harmony within the team.

You then heard footsteps approaching the office, and the voices became louder, causing you to freeze in your spot.

With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you realized that the rest of the team was heading towards the office. The last thing you needed was for them to discover your moment with Carlos and potentially create tensions within the team.

In a panic, you quickly grabbed his arm and dragged him into one of the smaller rooms before locking the door behind you.

In the confined space, your heart raced even faster, unsure of what to say or do next.

The room was dimly lit, and as you stood there, heart pounding, you couldn't help but feel a mix of apprehension. You knew that this impulsive decision could have consequences.

"Carlos, you can't just come in here whenever you feel like it," you tried to emphasise it to him but none of your words passed through his head.

As you looked into Carlos' eyes, you noticed a flicker of sadness mixed with longing. It was as if he was transported back to the time when you were together, before circumstances tore you apart.

"I know I can't just show up like this," he finally whispered, his voice filled with regret. "But seeing you again, after all this time... I couldn't resist. You still look as beautiful as the day you left."

You were left speechless, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Memories of your past together flooded your mind, causing a mix of emotions to swirl within you.

Part of you wanted to give in to the undeniable chemistry between you, but another part knew that the stakes were too high. You had worked so hard to establish a harmonious dynamic within the team, and getting involved with Carlos could jeopardize everything you had built.

Taking a deep breath, you mustered the strength to respond, "Carlos, we can't go back to how things were. We both have responsibilities to the team, and getting involved again would only create chaos. We need to focus on our work and maintain professionalism."

"Cariño, I don't care about work, I care about you," Carlos replied as if it was the simplest thing in the world. His words hung in the air, tempting you to abandon reason and give in to your desires.

But you knew deep down that prioritizing your personal relationship over the team's dynamics would be a dangerous path to tread.

Gathering your thoughts, you looked into Carlos' eyes and said firmly, "I understand your feelings, but we need to consider the consequences. Our focus should be on maintaining professionalism and preserving the team's harmony."

"We wouldn't have this problem if you would work for Ferrari and be my engineer," Carlos muttered, slowly coming closer to you.

"Well it can't helped," You replied.

Carlos frowned. "So if you got a chance to go to Ferrari, would you take it?"

You paused for a moment, feeling torn between your commitment to the team and the allure of an opportunity with a prestigious racing team.

Finally, you looked at Carlos and said, "Yes, I would take it. But right now, our priority should be on the team and maintaining professionalism."

Carlos smirked and walked over to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and longing. Your back was against the door as he slowly placed his hand over your head, trapping you in his gaze.

The intensity of the moment was palpable, and a part of you yearned to surrender to the passion that still lingered between you.

As his lips brushed against your ear, he whispered, "I hope you stick to that, cariño," before pushing the door open and leaving you in a daze.

A mix of emotions swirled within you, but deep down, you knew that prioritizing the team's dynamics and professionalism was the right choice.

You took a moment to collect yourself before diving back into your work, determined to maintain the harmony and focus of the team.

'Don't focus too much on work - CS' said a note was on your desk with your favourite coffee beside it.

You smiled at the note, trying to remember when Carlos had placed it on your desk. As you took a sip of your favorite coffee, the taste brought back memories of the times Carlos had surprised you with little gestures of affection when you were young.

"Geez Carlos, you're making me lose my mind," you muttered to yourself as you couldn't concentrate anymore with him running in your mind. . . .

During qualifying races, you found yourself spending a significant amount of time with Carlos.

While he had always been present nowadays, there was something different about his demeanor during these specific events.

You noticed him making an effort to avoid being spotted by the paparazzi and the public eye when he was with you especially after giving you a fright last time.

One morning, as you two sat alone in the grandstand, Carlos turned to you with a mischievous grin on his face. "I can't help it if the paparazzi keep catching glimpses of us together," he said, his voice filled with a hint of flirtation. "It's just the nature of the sport."

You blushed, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "I understand why you have to be careful but you don't have to make it a thing to see me every day," you replied, looking away to hide your embarrassment.

"But I must admit, it's a little frustrating not being able to be fully ourselves."

Carlos leaned closer to you, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't deny that," he said, his eyes locked on yours. "It's a struggle, but I manage it for you."

Before you had the chance to respond, the sound of Carlos' phone echoed through the stands. Carlos' face lit up with excitement as he jumped up to his feet. "I have to go but I will see you tomorrow." His voice was tinged with a hint of regret.

You watched as Carlos sprinted off to where his sleek red car would be racing around the Spanish track. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as he disappeared into the distance.

Despite his efforts to keep the paparazzi at bay, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing.

Throughout the day, you couldn't help but think about your conversation and the enigmatic racing driver that had made such a lasting impression on you. His charm, confidence, and undeniable charisma had left you wanting more.

Only time will tell, but for now, the memory of our conversation and the thought of Carlos racing around the track lingered in your mind, fueling a flame that refused to die. . . .

You and a Mercedes staff were having a casual conversation in the break room, reminiscing about the days of your careers as engineers. As you shared your experiences and exchanged stories, you couldn't help but notice a certain tension between the staff and yourself.

Although you didn't realize it at first, the staff's behavior seemed to hint that he was being flirty. However, you decided to brush it off and maintain a professional tone, focusing on having a friendly conversation with him.

"So what about your dating life?" the staff asked, his voice full of lust.

"Yeah... so how does being George's engineer feel like? It must be a lot of pressure?" You avoided the question, changing the question for the sake of your patience with the man.

"Yes, it gives me a lot of stress but do you know what would take the stress off?" the staff said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You,"

"Oh, that's flattering," you said, slightly irritated by his persistence. "But I'm not really interested in that right now."

"Oh come on," the man insisted, coming closer to you.

"I'm sorry but I'm really not interested," You said, trying to get the message through the staff's thick skull.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The staff's demeanor became stiff, and he averted his eyes, seemingly distracted by something behind you. Confused, you turned to the staff, questioning him but he didn't answer you.

You turned your head to find Carlos Sainz glaring at the staff angrily. The staff excused himself abruptly, leaving us alone.

"What was that all about?" You asked Carlos, turning around to face him.

"Who was he?" Carlos quickly asked, staring at the back of the man's head as he was still walking away from both of you. His eyes only returned to you when the staff wasn't in sight anymore. His eyes were now filled with happiness but jealousy.

"He's just a staff member," you answered. "Why do you ask?"

"Why do you let him talk to you in public but not to me?" Carlos asked, now sulky. You sighed.

"Carlos, you are a Formula 1 driver while he's just a staff member. You'll be hated by the public or questioned by your team. I don't want to jeopardize your career or mine." You explained.

"You know that I don't care about jeopardizing my career if I get to see you," Carlos said without any hesitation.

"Carlos! You can't say that," You said, surprised by his statement.

"I just don't want to lose you again," Carlos whispered. His eyes were on the ground as he didn't want to hear you hear him say it.

Your eyes softened at his words, and you reached out to gently touch his arm. "Carlos, that's not going to happen again, I promise," you said sincerely. "We've both grown since our past, and I'm committed to making this work. But we need to be careful and considerate of the circumstances."

Carlos nodded, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "I understand," he replied quietly. "I just... I can't help but worry."

As you sensed Carlos' vulnerability, you slowly brought him into a hug, not caring about getting caught or the potential consequences. His arms instinctively wrapped around your back, while your hands found their place around Carlos' neck.

"You said the same thing all those years ago, that you would never leave me," he muttered into your shoulder.

"Well I was a child then, now I'm an adult," you reassured him. "I can make my own decision now so my decision is to stay by your side for as long as you will have me,"

"Then I will have you forever cariño,"

"Good because I'm not leaving," you stated and you could feel Carlos smiling against your shoulder, making you grin at your achievement.

Carlos then pulled back to look at you with eyes filled with love, causing your heart to skip a beat. Was this the feeling of love that you were experiencing? Was this the love you had been longing for? Were those butterflies in your stomach a sign of something deeper?

The rhetorical questions swirled in your mind, but one thing was certain - in that moment, you knew that you never wanted to let him go. . . .

"Alright, Lando, the final qualifying race is about to start. I've done the final checks on your car, so you're all set to go out there and give it your best."

"Thanks Y/N! You're the best!" Lando said, giving you a fistbump before entering the racing car.

As the race began, you kept your eyes fixed on Lando, watching his every move. But you couldn't help but glance over at Carlos' progress as well.

As the race progressed, Lando showcased his exceptional driving skills, maneuvering through the twists and turns with precision and speed. He maintained a strong position throughout the race, overtaking opponents and defending his place fiercely.

The intense competition on the track fueled his determination, and he pushed the limits of his car to extract every ounce of performance.

To your delight, Lando secured pole position, but your heart sank as you saw Carlos finish in 17th place.

You watched on the screen as Carlos stormed out of his car and quickly made his way to the Ferrari garage, his frustration evident.

After congratulating Lando on his impressive performance, you turned to him and said, "Lando, I'm worried about Carlos. Could you help me get over to the Ferrari garage without drawing too much attention?"

"Of course, anything for my favourite engineer," Lando agreed without hesitation.

Together, you and Lando made your way to the Ferrari garage, strategically navigating through the bustling paddock. Lando, being the quick-witted and charismatic driver that he is, effortlessly made excuses to pass through the crowd without drawing too much attention.

You knew Carlos well enough to sense that something was truly bothering him, and you were determined to find out what it was and offer your support.

When the coast was clear, you knocked on the door to Carlos' drivers' room, but there was no answer.

"Carlos, it's me," you called out loud enough for him to hear you if he was inside the room.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Carlos ushered you inside. His eyes were filled with a mix of disappointment and anger.

He quickly closed the door behind you before going back to sitting down on his couch, his face in his hands to hide his disappointment from you.

You cautiously approached Carlos, taking a seat beside him on the couch. The room fell into a heavy silence as you waited for him to gather his thoughts.

Finally, he looked up at you, his voice filled with frustration as he confessed, "I can't believe I let my team down like this. I had high expectations for this race, and I feel like I've disappointed everyone."

"You didn't disappoint me," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Racing is unpredictable, Carlos. You gave it your all out there, and that's what matters. We win some, we lose some, but what's important is how we bounce back from it."

Carlos looked at you, and with a hint of a smile, he replied, "Thanks for saying that. It means a lot coming from you."

Getting a closer look at him, the dark circles were more visible to you now. It was clear that Carlos had been under a lot of stress lately. You realized that you hadn't been seeing him as often as usual, only exchanging quick greetings here and there.

It was time to dig deeper and find out how he had been truly doing.

"Carlos, how has your sleep been?" you asked, concerned about his well-being.

Carlos hesitated for a moment before replying, "Oh, you know, just the usual. A few restless nights here and there, but nothing too serious."

However, you could tell from the weariness in his eyes that he was not being completely honest with you.

You then patted your lap and Carlos looked bewildered by your action. "Put your head here, just like when we were young," you said, trying to lighten the mood. Carlos hesitated for a moment before finally resting his head on your lap.

The familiar comfort seemed to wash over him as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to finally release the weight of his disappointment and frustration.

As you gently stroked his hair, you whispered, "You don't have to carry this burden alone. Let me help you, like we used to help each other."

Carlos sighed in relief at your head massage, his tense muscles gradually relaxing under your soothing touch. "You're right," he murmured, his voice filled with vulnerability. "I've been struggling to handle everything on my own. It's been overwhelming."

You nodded understandingly, your fingers continuing their gentle rhythm in his hair. "You don't have to face it alone, Carlos," you reassured him. "We're in this together, just like we've always been. You can lean on me whenever you need to."

"I'm going to be late for the media if I fall asleep," he mumbled but he didn't budge like his body was fighting for sleep but his mind was fighting for being awake.

As Carlos' body relaxed against your lap, you could see the toll that sleep deprivation had taken on him. His eyes kept drooping, fighting the urge to close, but eventually, his body succumbed to exhaustion.

You gently covered him with a blanket and whispered, "Rest now, Carlos. I'll make sure you won't be late for the media. Your well-being is more important."

Carlos's resistance faded as he succumbed to sleep, finding solace in your presence and the promise of support.

As Carlos drifted off to sleep, you noticed the deep lines etched on his forehead, evidence of the stress he had been carrying. His shoulders slumped forward, burdened by the weight of his fatigue. Even in his sleep, he seemed restless, his body twitching with the remnants of anxiety.

Carlos's body seemed to sag against your lap, as if all his energy had been drained from him, leaving behind only weariness and the need for rest.

Carlos' face was incredibly expressive, even as he slept soundly. You continued to gently stroke his soft hair, mesmerised by the subtle shifts in his features - the occasional twitch of his brow, the slight curl of his lips.

It was a captivating display, and you found yourself endlessly entertained by the nuances of his sleeping countenance.

You didn't know that one hour had flown by until you heard a loud knock on the door. You froze, hoping that it wasn't some Ferrari staff looking for Carlos until you heard Charles' voice behind the door.

"Carlos! The media want to take your interview now. You can't stay here forever." Charles said while opening the door.

Charles' face was filled with worry and fear before he saw the two of you on the sofa. His face immediately changed to a relieved look as he looked at the sleeping figure of Carlos on your lap.

"Oh hi Y/N, how long has he been like this?" Charles now whispered as he closed the door behind him.

You looked at the clock, shocked at the time. "Around an hour or more."

"You've been like that for one hour." Charles repeated in shock.

"He was tired. What else was I supposed to do?" You whispered after feeling him stir into your lap, your hand returning back to his messy hair.

Charles sighed after he noticed how your eyes softened when you looked at Carlos and he knew it was over for you.

"Just tell him that the media are waiting for him now," he said gently before leaving the room.

Slowly, you roused Carlos from his slumber, watching as the grogginess gradually overtook him. A faint smile crept across your face as you observed the dishevelled state of his usually neatly styled hair, now tousled and unkempt, a testament to the deep sleep from which he was emerging.

The light came from the ceiling, casting a warm glow on his face, highlighting the drowsiness in his eyes. He blinked repeatedly, his movements sluggish and disoriented, a stark contrast to his typically alert and composed demeanour.

You couldn't help but let out a gentle giggle at the endearing sight of this usually put-together man, now rumpled and disoriented, his messy hair a playful reflection of his current state of mind.

“What happened?” Carlos muttered, slowly sitting up to face you.

“You still have media to do,” You reminded him, standing up to stretch from the sitting position you were in for an hour.

Carlos sighed at your words, rubbing the back of his neck. "I completely forgot about the media," he admitted with a hint of frustration. "I guess I needed that nap more than I thought.

"Thanks for being here for me, Y/N."

"It's no problem Carlos, oh wait, let me..." you started but your voice went in vain after you looked at Carlos.

His shirt was wrinkled, and there was a faint crease on his cheek from where it had been pressed against your lap. Nevertheless, he still managed to look effortlessly charming, his tousled hair adding a touch of disheveled appeal to his already handsome features.

"Let me fix your hair," you muttered, stepping closer to him and gently running your fingers through his tousled locks. Carlos smiled gratefully, his eyes sparkling with appreciation as he allowed you to tend to his messy hair, cherishing the intimate moment between the two of you.

"Thank you, Cariño," he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I don't know what I would do without you. You always know how to bring me back to reality and take care of me."

You smiled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "It's my pleasure, Carlos. Taking care of you is something I love to do."

"There, now you're ready," you said with a playful smile, gently patting his cheeks to remove any lingering traces of sleep. Carlos chuckled, his eyes brightening as he looked at you.

"Thanks, love. I feel much better now," he replied, his gratefulness evident in his voice.

As he started to walk to the door, he stopped in his tracks and turned around to you. "Will you be here when I come back?"

You looked at Carlos with a soft smile, your heart fluttering at the hope in his eyes.

"Carlos, McLaren will get worried about where I am," you replied, your voice filled with regret at the change on Carlos' face. "I'll check on you later okay?"

He nodded before leaving the room, but you couldn't help feeling a twinge of disappointment. As much as you wanted to stay by his side, duty called, and you knew you had to prioritize your responsibilities.

"Off to go celebrate Lando's pole," you muttered to yourself as you left the room, a mixture of excitement and disappointment swirling within you. You knew that supporting Carlos meant sometimes sacrificing your own desires, but it didn't make the longing to be by his side any less intense. . . .

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╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

As you prepared for your dinner with Carlos, you carefully selected a glamorous outfit that exuded elegance and style. The dress in question was a captivating red number that perfectly complemented your complexion. With its intricate woven design, cowl neck, and lace-up back, it exuded captivating allure.

The Shape Red Woven Cowl Neck Lace Back Mini Dress was a short, figure-hugging dress that accentuated your curves. The vibrant red color added a touch of vibrancy to your overall look, while the woven pattern gave it a unique texture. The cowl neck oozed sophistication, while the lace-up back added a touch of playfulness.

As you adorned yourself with various accessories, you carefully placed a delicate gold necklace around your neck. However, it didn't quite sit right, and you found yourself struggling to achieve the desired look.

Just as you were about to give up, there was a knock on the door. It was 7 PM, and to your surprise, it was Carlos standing in the doorway, holding a bouquet of vibrant red, black and white flowers. His smile lit up his face, and your heart raced with anticipation.

He then looked shocked as he took in your outfit. His eyes widened, and his mouth formed a silent "wow" as he admired the captivating red dress that perfectly hugged your curves.

The intricate woven design, cowl neck, and lace-up back emphasised your elegance and style, leaving Carlos momentarily speechless.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity, wondering if you had made a fashion blunder.

"Is it bad? I can change it if you want to," you ranted, scared of Carlos' expressions.

"Wow," Carlos finally managed to say out loud, his voice filled with surprise. "You look absolutely stunning in that dress. I never would have imagined you could look even more beautiful than you already do."

You blushed at his words, feeling a mix of relief and delight. The insecurity that had crept in earlier began to fade away as you realised that Carlos genuinely appreciated your efforts and found you stunning in the dress.

His sincere compliment filled you with confidence, and you couldn't help but smile back at him, grateful for his presence and the way he made you feel.

"Thank you Carlos, you can come in," you said shyly, letting him walk into your apartment.

As you walked back to your dresser, you picked up the necklace and walked over to Carlos. "Can you help me with this?"

With his cold hands gently touching your skin, you inadvertently shivered, feeling a surge of goosebumps. Despite his gentle touch, they managed to give you an unexpected thrill. As you turned around, our eyes locked, and a surge of warmth washed over you.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure cariño,"

In a car adorned with luxurious leather seats, you two drove to your dinner date. The fancy restaurant Carlos had taken you to was the epitome of elegance and exclusivity. However, as you two entered, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The glamorous ambiance and foreign faces made you feel like an outsider, despite the glamorous attire you wore.

Carlos, ever the gentleman, pulled out your chair for you, ensuring you were comfortably seated before sitting opposite you. The anticipation in the air was palpable, as you two exchanged fleeting glances, waiting for the right moment to break the silence.

As we settled into our seats, we began to engage in conversation, discussing anything and everything.

"So, how do you like the restaurant?" Carlos asked, breaking the silence with a charming smile.

You took a moment to observe the elegant surroundings before responding, "It's certainly impressive, but I can't help feeling a bit out of place."

Carlos squeezed your hand reassuringly and replied, "Don't worry, my love. You belong here just as much as anyone else. Besides, I brought you here because I wanted to spoil you and show you how special you are to me."

His words melted away your unease, and a sense of gratitude washed over you. As you continued your conversation, you couldn't help but feel lucky to have Carlos by your side, making you feel like the most important person in the room.

After indulging in a delicious meal, our conversation continued in comfortable silence. The soft ambiance of the restaurant and the lingering warmth of Carlos's presence created a peaceful atmosphere.

As you two savored the last bites of dessert, you couldn't help but reflect on how lucky you were to have found someone like Carlos, someone who made you feel cherished and valued with every word and gesture.

"So do you still feel bad about yesterday's race?"

"Not anymore, not after you are right in front of me," he replied, grinning at your shy reaction.

"Carlos, you have to be focused for the grand prix tomorrow," you said, trying to steer the conversation back to the upcoming race.

"Yeah, I am focused," he replied, his gaze still fixed on you.

Despite his flirty demeanor, you couldn't help but feel a shyness creep over you, making it difficult to concentrate on anything other than his captivating presence.

Carlos' magnetic charm emanated from his piercing blue eyes, which seemed to hold a universe of depth and mystery. The way his dark, tousled hair fell effortlessly across his forehead only added to his ruggedly handsome appearance.

With a fit and athletic physique that hinted at his prowess on the racetrack, Carlos exuded an undeniable allure that made it impossible to look away.

The evening was coming to a close when we were caught by something unexpected.

The paparazzi had gathered outside the restaurant, snapping pictures of us. Their presence brought a sudden realisation to both of us. In that moment, we realised that our evening had been captured, immortalised for the world to see.

The potential consequences of the paparazzi's photos being made public loomed over you both. The invasion of privacy could subject you to scrutiny, judgment, and even hate from the public.

The intimate moments shared between you and Carlos, which were meant to be cherished and kept private, could be distorted and sensationalized, leaving you vulnerable to the harsh realities of fame and public opinion.

Carlos immediately took your hand and led you to the back of the restaurant where a staff member was waiting with his car ready to go. In a swift and coordinated move, he opened the car door for you and helped you inside, shielding you from the prying eyes of the paparazzi.

As the car pulled away, you felt a mix of relief and gratitude for Carlos's quick thinking and protective nature.

Carlos whispered, "Don't worry, I'll make sure your face will not be seen by the public."

You reply with a grateful smile, feeling a sense of comfort in Carlos's reassurance. "Thank you, Carlos," you say softly, appreciating his efforts to protect your privacy amidst the chaos of the paparazzi.

"Anything for you Cariño," He said with a grin on his face, taking a look at you before looking back at the road. "So which house are we going to? Yours or mine?"

"I think it's best if I go home and get a good night's rest for tomorrow," you stated, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks.

"Sure Cariño," he replied with a gentle nod, his eyes flickering with a mix of concern and longing.

Inside the car, a comfortable silence enveloped you both, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine. As the city lights blurred past, a sense of intimacy filled the air, as if the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you and the promise of a new day ahead.

When you arrived at your apartment, Carlos was about to turn to leave after saying goodbye, but you quickly grabbed his hand to stop him. "Carlos," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing.

He turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before a smile tugged at his lips. "Yes?" he replied, his voice gentle.

"Stay," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "At least stay with me for a while since our dinner was cut short."

Carlos's smile widened, and he squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I would love nothing more," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'll stay with you as long as you need me, Cariño."

As you both entered your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation and nervousness. The atmosphere was charged with unspoken feelings, and you wondered if this was the beginning of something more than just friendship.

Closing the door behind you, you turned to face Carlos, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I've enjoyed our time together tonight," you said, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

Carlos's eyes softened as he looked at you, his body language reflecting a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush against your cheek.

Your breath hitched at his touch, your heart racing in response. The air crackled with tension, both of you feeling the electricity between you, unsure of what would happen next.

"I don't want to rush things, but can I kiss you?" he whispered, his voice filled with longing and desire. The question hung in the air, intensifying the tension between you.

"Okay, but remember you have an important event tomorrow-" you warned. Your voice tinged with concern. However, Carlos hardly let you finish your sentence.

With a surge of desire and longing, he closed the distance between you and kissed you passionately, his lips capturing yours in a moment of undeniable connection. In that electric embrace, the worries about the future faded away.

As his lips melded with yours, a rush of warmth spread through your body, igniting every nerve ending. Time seemed to stand still as the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the intoxicating taste of his lips and the intensity of the moment.

The kiss held an undeniable spark, a perfect harmony of desire and affection that left you breathless and craving more.

Your hands instinctively found their way to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, while his hands tightened their grip around your waist, pulling you closer. In that moment, the world disappeared, and it was just the two of you, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the kiss, savoring the electrifying connection between your bodies.

When you finally broke apart to catch your breath, you couldn't help but smile. The taste of his lips still lingered on yours, and the intensity of the moment hung in the air.

As you moved back slightly, you couldn't help but notice a faint trail of saliva connecting your mouths, reminding you of the raw passion that had consumed you both.

The anticipation and desire that had built up before the kiss only intensified in its aftermath. Both of you were left wanting more, your hearts yearning for the next encounter, as the taste of his lips and the lingering connection between your bodies filled your thoughts and fueled your desire.

"Do you still want me to stop?" Carlos teased, reminding you of your words before.

But as you looked into his eyes, filled with equal parts mischief and desire, you couldn't help but shake your head and pull him closer, surrendering to the undeniable electricity between you.

"We can't do anything that will weaken you and your legs before your grand prix tomorrow. Just kiss for now," you muttered reluctantly.

With a mischievous grin, Carlos whispered, "You better come to my driver's room after my home win then." The anticipation of what may happen next filled the air, fueling your desire for him even more.

"Of course," you replied with a mischievous smile. "But only if you promise to make it worth the wait."

Carlos chuckled. His eyes lit up with anticipation. "I'll make it a race you'll never forget," he whispered, before capturing your lips once again in a passionate kiss, leaving you both eagerly counting down the hours until his victory. . . .

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As you sat on your break, scrolling through the Twitter posts about you and Carlos from the previous day, a rush of excitement and anticipation filled you.

You couldn't help but smile as you read the comments and speculations from fans and followers. They were intrigued by the mysterious person who had captured Carlos's attention, wondering who you were and what your connection to him might be.

Although most of the pictures didn't fully reveal your face, they were captivated by the chemistry and passion that radiated from the moments captured.

The passionate kiss you shared replayed in your mind, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

The passionate kiss with Carlos had ignited a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions within you. It was as if a flame had been sparked, intensifying your desire for him and leaving you eagerly anticipating the next encounter.

The memories replayed in your mind, making it impossible to think of anything else but the electrifying connection you shared.

"Are you ready to celebrate with me after I win?" someone whispered, a hand sliding onto your waist. You turned to see Carlos, his eyes shining with excitement and anticipation, and couldn't help but feel your desire for him grow even stronger.

"Carlos, shouldn't you be talking to your team before the race?" you asked, turning around to face him.

But his gaze was unwavering, and with a confident smile, he replied, "I've already done everything I need to do. I just needed to talk to my good luck charm and my future engineer."

"Carlos-"

"Remember our promise? You said that you would work for Ferrari if I won this race?"

You sighed. "Why don't you win the race before we discuss that?" you said, trying to hide the nervous flutter in your stomach.

Deep down, you knew that if Carlos won, everything would change between you, and the thought both thrilled and terrified you.

The mischievous glint in Carlos's eyes only grew stronger as he leaned in closer, whispering, "Oh, I will win. And when I do, you better be ready to fulfill that promise."

With a mixture of excitement and apprehension, you leaned in closer to Carlos, playfully brushing your lips against his ear as you whispered, "Oh, I'll be ready, Carlos."

Carlos couldn't resist the playful challenge in your voice, and as he grinned, he pulled you even closer, his lips meeting yours in a passionate and electrifying kiss. Time seemed to stand still as the world around you faded away, leaving only the intense connection between the two of you.

"Good luck," you muttered as you broke away to the sound of the speakers announcing the start of the race.

The anticipation and excitement in the air were palpable as Carlos gave you one last lingering look before heading towards his team, leaving you with a mix of hope and uncertainty for what the future held.

"So you're cheering for the enemy now?" a voice said behind you, and you turned around to see Lando, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Well, I always knew you had a thing for bad boys," he teased, causing you to playfully roll your eyes.

"I wouldn't call it cheering for the enemy," you replied, returning his smirk. "Just enjoying the thrill of competition. Besides, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone."

"Just remember that you're my engineer, at least for now from what I heard."

"Lando-" you tried to explain but he stopped you.

"I understand, I can't stand in the way of true love," Lando said with a bittersweet smile. "But it's not like we're going to lose contact again, right? We'll still be friends, even if things change between you and Carlos."

You smiled reassuringly, placing a hand on his arm. "Of course not, Lando. We may be on different teams, but our friendship goes beyond the track. We'll always stay in touch."

Lando nodded, his smile widening. "That's what I like to hear. No matter what happens on the racetrack, our friendship will remain strong. And who knows, maybe one day we'll even end up as drivers and engineers again."

As the speaker asked again for the drivers to get ready, Lando rushed over to get ready for the race. His excitement was palpable. Meanwhile, you focused on your role as his engineer, meticulously checking the data and making last-minute adjustments to ensure that Lando had the best possible performance.

The countdown had begun, and the adrenaline surged through your veins as you prepared for the start of the race. . . .

The roar of the engines filled the air as the cars lined up on the starting grid, their sleek bodies glistening under the bright lights. The anticipation was electric, with the crowd holding their breath in anticipation of the exhilarating race that was about to unfold.

As the signal for the start of the race was given, the cars shot forward, their tires screeching against the asphalt, and the drivers expertly maneuvered through the first turns, jostling for position.

Each lap brought new challenges and heart-stopping moments, as the drivers pushed themselves and their machines to the limit, battling for victory.

The atmosphere was intoxicating, a heady mix of adrenaline, strategy, and sheer determination, as the race unfolded with breathtaking speed and precision.

The roar of the engines filled the air as the cars lined up on the starting grid, their sleek bodies glistening under the bright lights. The anticipation was electric, with the crowd holding their breath in anticipation of the exhilarating race that was about to unfold.

As the signal for the start of the race was given, the cars shot forward, their tires screeching against the asphalt, and the drivers expertly maneuvered through the first turns, jostling for position.

Each lap brought new challenges and heart-stopping moments, as the drivers pushed themselves and their machines to the limit, battling for victory. The atmosphere was intoxicating, a heady mix of adrenaline, strategy, and sheer determination, as the race unfolded with breathtaking speed and precision.

In the end, Carlos proved his skill and expertise, crossing the finish line first with a triumphant roar from the crowd. Lando, though disappointed not to take the top spot, showcased his talent by securing a solid second place, earning him well-deserved recognition and applause from the spectators.

Despite the competitive nature of the race, the friendship between Lando and Carlos remained strong, with both drivers acknowledging each other's abilities and celebrating their shared passion for the sport.

You were filled with a sense of pride as you watched Lando secure a solid second place, but deep down, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness for Carlos. Seeing him cross the finish line first, his skill and expertise on full display, was a moment of pure joy.

You knew that this victory meant so much to him, and you couldn't help but celebrate alongside him, grateful for the camaraderie and shared passion that united everyone in the thrilling world of racing.

The crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers and applause as Carlos crossed the finish line, their jubilation echoing throughout the stadium. Flags waved, horns blared, and spectators jumped up and down in excitement, caught up in the exhilarating moment of victory.

The atmosphere was electric, filled with a mix of admiration, awe, and sheer joy for Carlos's well-deserved triumph.

As you looked around, you realized that you were surrounded by fans of Lando's team, who were understandably disappointed by his second-place finish. Feeling slightly awkward, you tried to contain your excitement and join in the applause for Lando's impressive performance.

But deep down, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of regret that you couldn't fully express your joy for Carlos's victory among like-minded supporters.

You stayed with the McLaren team throughout the podium celebration, witnessing the bittersweet mix of emotions among the fans.

Some were still caught up in their disappointment for Lando, while others couldn't help but applaud Carlos's remarkable achievement.

As Carlos stood on the first-place podium, his eyes scanned the crowd, searching for you. When his gaze finally met yours, a wide smile spread across his face, and he raised his trophy in triumph.

In that moment, you knew that your support and shared joy meant everything to him, and you felt a deep sense of pride and happiness for being there to witness his victory.

Throughout the celebration, Carlos had been winking at you whenever he had the chance, a secret gesture that only the two of you understood.

As you locked eyes with him during the podium celebration, he winked at you once again, a silent reminder of the special connection you shared and the unspoken bond between you. In that moment, the world around you faded away, and it was just the two of you, celebrating his victory together.

You couldn't help but blush as Carlos's wink hinted at the private celebration that awaited you in his driver's room.

The teasing and flirty gesture only added to the excitement and anticipation that filled the air, making you eagerly anticipate the intimate moments you would share after the public festivities were over. . . .

You quickly changed out of your McLaren staff clothes into some casual attire, ensuring that you wouldn't draw any unnecessary attention as you made your way into the Ferrari garage.

With the ID that Carlos had obtained for you, you confidently walked past security and into the inner sanctum of the team.

As you entered, the atmosphere shifted, and you could feel the excitement building as you prepared to celebrate Carlos's victory in a more private setting.

The Ferrari garage exuded an air of opulence and exclusivity, with sleek Italian design elements, polished surfaces, and dimmed lighting that added a touch of mystery.

The atmosphere was filled with the intoxicating scent of leather and the faint sound of engines purring in the distance, creating a sensory experience that heightened the anticipation of the private celebration that lay ahead.

When you made it to Carlos's driver's room, you knocked on his door and immediately the door opened, revealing Carlos standing there with a wide grin on his face. He pulled you into a tight embrace, whispering how grateful he was that you were there to share this moment with him.

As you looked into each other's eyes, you knew that this victory was not just his, but yours as well, and you couldn't wait to celebrate together in the privacy of his sanctuary.

With a mischievous smile, he whispered in your ear, "I've been waiting for this moment all day." As you melted into his arms, you knew that the private celebration you had been eagerly anticipating was about to begin.

"I'm so proud of you," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine admiration and love. Carlos's eyes sparkled with joy as he pulled you even closer, cherishing the words that meant so much to him.

You felt a surge of heat course through your body as he pulled you into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around your waist, and his body pressed against yours. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck as he leaned in close.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. 'I'm so glad you're here."

You reached up and ran your fingers through his soft, dark hair. "I couldn't miss this, "You whispered. "Congratulations, Carlos. You were incredible."

"Thank you, mi amor," he said. "I couldn't have done it without you."

With that, he leaned down and kissed you. His lips were soft and warm, and I could taste the champagne on his tongue. I felt a surge of desire wash over me as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the contours of my mouth.

"Can I touch you?" Carlos whispered, staring from your lips to your body, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and anticipation.

You nodded, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you, as his hands gently traced the curves of your body, igniting a fire within you that only he could quench.

He tastes of mint and victory, and you feel the hard muscles of his chest against your breasts as he pulls you tight against him. Your hands explore his strong back, feeling the power in his body, the sinewy strength that has just won him the race.

Pulling away slightly, Carlos nips at your lower lip, his eyes burning with a hunger that matches your own. "I need you," he growls, his breath hot against your ear. "Right now."

You whimper at his words, all shyness forgotten in the face of your overwhelming desire. "Yes," you plead, arching your back, offering yourself to him. "Please, Carlos."

His response is to lift you up and sit you on the nearby table, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushes your legs apart. You can feel the hard length of his cock pressing against your core, and you grind your hips down, wanting to feel him inside you.

With one hand, he reaches between your legs, his fingers stroking your wet pussy through your pants. You gasp at the contact, your head falling back as he teases your clit with his skilled fingers.

"So wet for me already," he groans, dipping his head to suck at the sensitive skin of your neck.

"Please," you beg, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. "I need you now."

Carlos chuckles, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine, and then he pushes your pants down for them to fall on the ground, his fingers finding your aching cunt.

With one sharp thrust, he pushes a finger inside you, and you cry out, your hips buckling at the sudden pleasure.

"That's it, baby," he whispers, adding another finger, stretching and filling you. "Take it. Take all of me."

You can't form words, your mouth open in a soundless cry as he fingers your pussy, his thumb rubbing your swollen clit in circles. Your juices coat his hand, and he adds a third finger, scissoring you, stretching you deliciously.

As you hover on the edge of an orgasm, Carlos pulls his fingers out, leaving you whimpering and desperate. Before you can protest, he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and lines up his thick cock with your waiting hole.

With one swift thrust, he sinks deep into your wet cunt, burying himself balls-deep.

"Fuck!" you cry out. You claw at his back, your legs tightening around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him deeper.

Carlos begins to move, his hips snapping as he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into you. The table shakes with the force of his thrusts, and you meet him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm.

"You feel so good," he grunts, his eyes screwed shut as he concentrates on the feeling of your tight pussy gripping his cock. "So fucking tight."

Hearing him talk dirty sends you over the edge, and your orgasm crashes over you, your body shaking uncontrollably as you cry out his name. Carlos doesn't stop, pounding into you as you ride out your climax, your juices coating his shaft.

With a few more hard thrusts, Carlos tenses, a growl tearing from his throat as he spills himself deep inside you, his hot cum filling your hole. He slumps forward, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath, his cock still buried deep.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, feeling your hearts pounding in unison. "That was..." you start, unable to find the words to describe the intense, passionate sex you just shared.

"Incredible," Carlos finishes for you, kissing you softly. "But I have a feeling this is just the beginning for us."

You catch your breath and look into Carlos' eyes, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. "Incredible doesn't even begin to cover it," you say, your voice filled with a mix of desire and anticipation.

"Wanna do round 2 in your bedroom?" you smirked, your eyes glinting with mischief as you playfully suggested taking the passionate encounter to the next level.

Carlos grinned back at you, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your skin. "I thought you'd never ask," he replied, his voice filled with anticipation and desire. . . .

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,702,847 others.

yourusername: Life has a beautiful way of surprising us. Carlos and I met when we were just kids, and we instantly became the best of friends. Unfortunately, circumstances pulled us apart, and we lost touch for years. But destiny had its plans, and we found each other again. Now, we're not just friends, we're partners, and our bond is stronger than ever. Our journey has been filled with twists and turns, but it's led us to this incredible place. 💖

view comments below

yourusername: ALSO GOOD JOB BABY ON GETTING PODIUM!!

carlossainz55: 🥰🥰

carlossainz55: Mi amor, I thought we agreed not to post that picture of me

yourusername: But baby you looked cute in it! Can I still keep it on??

carlossainz55: of course mi amor, anything for you ❤

*liked by yoursername*

user1: OMG they are so cute!!

charles_leclerc: congratulations on your relationship!

yourusername: OMG Charles Leclerc! Can I have your autograph?? charles_leclerc: sure! I'm sure I will meet you in the paddock to give you one 👍

user2: NOT Y/N BEING A BIGFAN OR CHARLES WHILE DATING CARLOS????

user3: Y/N is actually living the dream 🥹

landonorris: Great podium mate 👊

carlossainz55: Thanks mate, got the love of my life and a home win in the same day. Best day of my life 🥰

*liked by yoursername*

landonorris: Stole my best friend 😒🙄😮‍💨

yourusername: Lando you know you will always be my number 1 bestie 🫶

landonorris: I GOT MY BESTIE BACK 🥰🫶

carlossainz55: What about me?????

*liked by yoursername*

[brisquad-unit-4402]

luxiem and noisy sex

hey guys sorry i was mia for a while you see it was because i was [DEAFENING EXPLOSION AND AFTERSHOCK FOLLOWED BY COLLAPSING DEBRIS, THUNDER CRASH, BICYCLE HORN SOUND EFFECTS]

tags: established relationship, gender neutral reader, smut, bottom/top or sub/dom not specified

⚠️ blow job mention in shu's entry

⚠️ mature content under read more. content under read more is not intended for minors

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🖋 Ike Eveland

relatively quiet. ike doesn't make a racket often— it's more likely that he'll either tease you with dirty talk and come-ons

but once his brain gets too fucked out to stay coy, he's all shaky breaths and little whines

you can hear him quivering under his breath, as if getting caught would be a problem

which it very much isn't

invite him to get a little louder if you want an adorably flustered, adorably hard novelist. he'll feel so dirty if you do, but at the same time, he feels like making noise proves how much he trusts you

if you're noisy:

even though he doesn't make much noise, sex with you isn't complete without coaxing such sweet squeaks out of you

he takes it as a challenge, trying to figure out which part of your body is most sensitive by how loud you react

it makes him feel so sexy, and desirable, and powerful no matter what position he's in

prefers when you can't form words anymore, only helpless cries. oh, and if you actually do cry? god, he'll remember that forever

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🦁 Luca Kaneshiro

brings a whole new definition to "loud in bed". like seriously, even if you've had noisy partners before, luca puts them all to shame without even trying

he reacts to almost everything, and it doesn't take him a lot to get there. sometimes you wonder if he's faking it, but no, he's just that aware of everything he feels

he starts out with exclamations, and somehow forms words all the way until the end of the night. the sentences stop making sense halfway through, and by the time he climaxes it's a miracle if he can even get through his words without tripping up

if you're noisy:

is he the luckiest guy in the universe or what? it feels great to have someone that gets what it's like to be loud

doesn't even care what you say or do as long as he can hear it. just being able to hear those noises has his engine revving

then again, when you're lips are pressed up to him and he can still hear the muffled sounds and your vibrating throat, he just wants to fuck until you both white out in the afterglow

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👟 Shu Yamino

shu doesn't take sex too seriously and just wants to have fun above all else, and you have to wonder if it's because he always laughs at least once when you sleep together

he's actually quite ticklish, and his moans sometimes end in giggles. they sound so sweet even though what you do under the covers is anything but

this is one of the few things he's actually insecure about. he's so worried that it might kill the mood or make his partner feel self conscious

don't take it personally. he whimpers plenty when he's not giggling, and the last thing he wants is a misunderstanding just because of how his body expresses pleasure

if you're noisy:

sometimes he wishes he could commit every one of your noises to memory. they're easily his favorite part of going down on you

he fantasizes about your voice getting excited often. if you're ever apart, he'd love to listen to you masturbate and call his name over the phone

hell, even hearing his name from your trembling lips has his cock throbbing, ready to fill that pretty mouth and give you something to really choke on

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👹 Vox Akuma

tends to make more guttural sounds. growls, hums, and purrs galore. vox doesn't even try to make them sound sultry, they're just so low and irresistible, as expected of the voice demon himself

but if you catch him off guard you might just make him squeak in surprise and satisfaction. he even stutters and trips over his words

which is something he gets embarrassed over, especially since all his other noises are still on the low end of the spectrum, but calling attention to it gets him even more aroused

great sex usually ends with high-pitched whimpers and gasps, and the best ones have him screaming as he orgasms

if you're noisy:

your noises make him so unbelievably horny, you have no idea. the second he realizes you're loud, he wants nothing more than to hear you all night

it's a huge ego boost and fuels him to keep pushing his limits. anything to keep you crying out for him

he'll goad you into responding to his dirty talk just so he can hear you whimper in-between your words

whether you want to be praised or degraded, he tries to mention your voice and noises as much as he can since it's all he can think about

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[rezwrites]

First I want to say I am obsessed with your Agatha x Reader fics. They give me a lot of joy through my last shitty weeks. I adore you

Second, I have an idea/request so Dark Agatha, who for Reader is just her friendly neighbor, but Agatha has been keeping an eye on Reader since Reader arrived in the neighborhood. One night while Reader was returning from a party and decides to walk home in the middle of the night, Agatha drives her car ‘casually at the same time’ and offers to take Reader at home. Of course, Reader accepts… what could happen?

Dark + jealousy + possessiveness + obsession + dub-con

No pressure. Take your time 

I really glad you like them! Writing them gets me through my shitty days too.

Warnings: +18 MDNI, dub-con, alcohol consumption, fingering

Quite footsteps filled the silent night as you cautiously walked down the sidewalk. The humid air causing your skin to become sticky with sweat. The low rumble of a car engine grew louder as it drove closer. You tensed up hearing the slight squeak of the brakes.

“Dear?” a soft saccharine voice called from behind you. Upon seeing Ms. Harkness peeking her head out her window, you breathed sigh of relief, relaxing. “It’s late. What’s are doing walking about?”

Ms. Harkness has been an angel ever since you moved into the neighborhood. She was always a shoulder to lean on whenever you need it. Never judging, always listening. The most wonderful neighbor you could ask for. Heavy disappointment washed over you for letting her see you this way.

You tried your hardest not to slur your words in front of her, but failed. Even if your words worked you probably looked a mess carrying your shoes, walking without them. “I’..m just walking… home,” You point in the direction of your home.

A deep frown etched in her features as she exited her car, nearing you, “How much have you had to drink?”

“A few..” you trailed off struggling to remember. Cups, glasses, a few shots. There was so much alcohol flowing throughout the night, it was hard to keep track in your addled mind.

“Hun, you’re too drunk to be out here alone. Let’s get you home.” She wrapped her arms around your shoulders, guiding you to the passenger side of her car. Climbing back in her seat Agatha set the air conditioning towards you, making sure you’re comfortable before driving off.

Pulling into the driveway Agatha swiftly came around helping you out of the car. Eyeing the flowerbeds under the windows of the house you realized this wasn’t your house. “This is your house, Ms. Harkness.” You stated, confused.

“Yes, dear. It will be easier for me to take care of you here tonight.” She rubbed your back soothingly as she guided you to the front door, “Besides, how would your family react if you came home in this state?”

She’s right. Your parents- your father, really, would berate you endlessly if you came home this wasted.

Guiding you upstairs she kept a steady hand on your back, patient as you took your time up each step. “I’ll wash your clothes and bring you a fresh pair, honey,” Agatha assured, placing you on her bed. Agatha scurried over to her dresser, bringing back a light hoodie and shorts. Agatha disappeared into the connecting bathroom, you took that time to change. Pulling on the hoodie the soft material on the inside felt like velvet again your skin.

Falling back against the bed you listened to Agatha get closer, collect your clothing, then walk out the room. Hearing her footsteps gradually grow and stop next to you, you have her a bit of insight of tonight, “I thought she liked me, that we had a connection. Only to see her dragging the quarterback upstairs.”

She audibly sighs tucking her arms underneath you, adjusting your body back against the pillows, “See, honey. This is what happens when you mess with girls like that.” She runs her thumb over your eyebrows, smoothing them down.

She hated to watch you fall for girls that lacked any substance. Anger in her eyes every time she saw you with someone who would ultimately break your heart. Agatha always told herself that you needed stable woman, one that can give you structure and support. You needed her. “Perhaps you need to slow down from finding a relationship.”

“Mmm…” The plush bed felt like a cloud underneath you, the faint scent of Agatha’s hoodie comforted you further, “Your bed is so comfortable, Ms. Harkness.”

“I’m sorry about tonight, sweetie.” Agatha pressed herself at your back. She gave you a kiss ghosting the back of your neck, her fingers playing with your sides. The patterns she drew lulled you into a light sleep, not noticing Agatha’s hand had dipped lower. Not until your hips jerked, her digits landing on your clit. Agatha’s serene voice soothed you, “Feels good?”

“…yes..” your body moved on it’s own, seeking Agatha’s touch once more. Her hand went lower, palm now rubbing against your bud. The coil in your lower stomach began to tighten, as Agatha ran her fingertips through the arousal that started to leak from you. Agatha peppered kisses wherever she could reach, sinking two digits into your quivering hole.

The alcohol in your system made you very sensitive, burying your face to stifle your moans. Each trust and rub on your core sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“Not yet,” A groan fell from your lips as Agatha halted her movements, removing her fingers from you, “I want to start the new year off right. Hearing your pretty moans at the stroke of midnight.”

You both laid there for a minute before Agatha plunged two fingers back into your pussy, setting a merciless pace. Using her other hand to hold you still by your hair to prevent you from hiding. Agatha shoved one of her legs between yours using it to spread you open, giving her a deeper access to your needy cunt. Guttural moans ripped from your throat when Agatha curled her fingers in tandem with her thrusts, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

Your whimpers and moans were music to Agatha’s ears. Hot juices coated her fingers creating the squelch that emits around the room. “I know you’re close. Come for me, babygirl.”

“Ah- Agatha!” you cried, shaking in her arms. The coils snapped, shockwaves of intense pleasure reverberated throughout your entire body, reaching every inch of you. Agatha held you tightly fucking you through your orgasm, until you were limp from exhaustion.

“Mine.” Agatha claimed, sucking a deep purple mark on the crook of your neck as you were dragged into a heavy slumber.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Back again with yet another idea -🥤

So this could be with any of the beans but I was thinking that the reader got caught by some bad bloods or human and experimented on. One of those being something that slowly transforms them into a yautja. The reader might try to hide this from their mate (like the scales slowly appearing, how sensitive your senses are becoming) but the reader can’t hide much from an experienced yautja

The Wrong Secret to Hold

Pairings: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of self harm (needing to rip off skin) (?)

Word Count: 2334

Summary: Ahtaal may no be an enforcer but when he found out you were stolen right off of his ship, he became one. Just for that reason. He tracked you down through the stars until he was able to pinpoint your location. From there, he tore apart the bad bloods who stole you. But it was already too late. The bad bloods had already planted a seed.

Author Note: I love the fact you called them beans! I'm going to refer to them like that for now on. It's always great to see from you Cup Anon!

Masterlist

Ao3

Three weeks has passed since Athaal saved you from a cunning duo of Bad Bloods. He may not be an enforcer but he took upon himself to kill them after they kidnapped you. Right from the safety of his spacecraft. A mistake he has since learned from, increasing the security of the ship’s systems. He had almost lost you, his mate.

After he retrieved you, gaining the two skulls of those who wronged you. Both of them hang nicely above your shared bed. A bed you were curled up in, even after being awake for at least three hours. Three hours of rest you desperately needed. In the end, they were lost.

The nest like bed built into the floor was usually comfort, perfect to curl up in and nap. Everything was too much. The room was too cold. The air too dry. The blankets too scratchy. Then, there was the noise of the engines. They caused a raging headache to pound in your skull, driving away every rational thought in your mind.

Everything was too much.

This had progressed ever since Ahtaal saved you from those Bad Bloods. Your memory of your time with them was foggy, blurry of what they might have done to you. It wasn’t long they held you but they had changed something in you. You blamed it on the trauma they had put you through, part of the reason why you couldn’t recall what happened to you.

Athaal saw an uptick in your heartbeats. Not by much, only ten on average, but called it normal. Fear of a prey animal only reacting. That was that.

Then, the oversensitivity began to grow. Even the clothes Athaal had stolen for you from earth were too much to put on. Yet, your mind warred on the fact being naked was bad or being driving into insanity when you could feel your own skin. You had to reframe yourself from scratching your skin off every time you breathed.

All the blankets had been pushed of out the massive concave bed. They had been touching you, grazing your skin. The feel of them made you want crawl out of your own body and throw yourself into a pit of lava.

As this progressed as well, you refrained from telling Athaal. He’s been stressed since you’ve been napped right from underneath his mandibles. He’s been working hard on the ship, ensuring the same thing never happens to you again. Plus, with the killing, he also had to make a case against his clan’s court about the legal execution of the Bad Bloods. Not that the seem to disagree but it all revolve around the honor code. To keep the balances and checks in their strict system.

The last thing that Athaal needed added to his plate was whatever was affecting you. It would pass. It was just trauma. Your scenes overworking to keep you safe after such an attack.

Until you wondered into the bathroom to relieve yourself only to find… scales?! Your hands grasped the porcelain sink, heart beating at a thousand miles per second. You felt lightheaded, legs ready to give out at any moment. There were scales starting to grow on your chest.

Your fingertips gingerly touched the rough patches and winced since they were sensitive too. Tears burned your eyes, right on the edge of falling. Why was this happening to you? What was happening to you?! There’s no scientific reason for something like this to occur. You didn’t know of any disease in the universe that could cause this to appear.

What strength you had left, you stumbled back to the bed and collapsed onto it. The softness of the bed irritated your skin and made it feel like hot pokers were digging into where the cushion touched you. With an annoyed growl, you climbed back out and laid on your back.

The floor was unforgiving, cool to the touch. Yet, it was an improvement to the bed that made you want to desperately claw at your own skin. You huffed and curled up into a ball, hands covering your head as if protecting you from an attack. Your scenes were still on fire, driving you up the nearest wall. But, the energy to move was gone. Then, you were asleep. A fitful, restless sleep.

Raging hungry stirred you from your wasteful nap. A growl sounded from the back of your throat, sounding deep and dangerous. You stretched out only to bump into something warm. You froze. Then, slowly, you creeped your gaze over your shoulder to find the red form of Ahtaal sleeping at your back, chest facing you. Fear creeped into your heart, pumping into your veins. The lump in your throat was swallowed down thought. He wasn’t awake.

One of his arms was draped over your torso and kept you securely pressed against his body. At any other time, you would’ve enjoyed this soft moment with him. His loving embrace. But his heat, the texture of the scales on his chest. It was overwhelming.

Despite the love for him telling you to endure this discomfort, you grasped his wrist and held it up. It weighed a lot due to the muscles that cord it. But, you were able to roll out from underneath him. You climbed out of the bed then stopped and turned to look down at him for a fleeting moment. He was still, breathing normal, eyes closed. He hadn’t woken up.

A soft sigh of relief left you. You about faced again and snuck away towards the kitchen. Anything to quell this pang of hunger that curled and boiled deep inside of you. In all of your years, you’ve never felt like before. Even if you hadn’t ate the day before, and you had.

The open kitchen was dark as you worked inside of it, not needing light on to see. You worked diligently. Two bowls of fruits and a plate of dried meat was your preparing meal. Even that seemed not to be enough for you in the sight of your eyes.

Unease crawled up your spine. Instinct roared its head. A growl rumbled from the depths of your chest as you leaned over your prepare food, eyes darting out to the open space. Your teeth bared.

Ahtaal stood in the doorway of the kitchen, posture lax but eyes watchful. Your growl lessened until he took a step towards you. One of your hands slammed down on the counter. Part of the warnings that ranged from you not to step an inch closer. This was your food. No one would take it from you.

Through the darkness of the ship, you saw the way his head jerked back and he didn’t move any closer. The whisper of your name rolled off of his forked tongue. Questioning. Your piercing gaze refused to move away from the threat that could take away your nourishment. Food you were desperate to consume but not with him there. Eating would be an opportunity for attack.

His dark form stepped back and eased the pressure his presence seemed to caused to you. Your growled lightened slightly but your eyes didn’t wander. They were pinned strictly on him. His brows furrowed before he slowly knelt down. Anything to appear he wasn’t a threat to you, his mate. Submissive as the position seemed, he did it for you.

Your name fell from his tongue again. That’s when your scenes, this primal instinct started to clear. You shook your head, eyes flickering down to the floor. All of your thoughts scrambled as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

One of your hands covered your mouth. What was that? Terror overtook every emotion inside of you. Your gaze met his again but as the prey you were. The exit was blocked by his kneeling body. Your heart pounded like a bird desperate for escape. You back away from him and the food, back meeting the wall opposite to him.

“Little one?” he softly called out to you.

Those Bad Bloods. They had done something terrible to you. There was something terrible wrong with you now. Your terrified gaze met his again. Then, you bolted.

Strong arms ensnared around your torso before you could escape. Heat pressed against your back. Your nails raked down thick scales, failing to cause any damage. Your legs kicked and hits his thighs and stomach but did nothing to deter him. Ahtaal traps your back to his chest and stand. Now, you were up in the air as he pinned you to him.

The restless sleep and everyday waking up more tired than the day before caught up to you. The adrenaline couldn’t keep up. You slowly go limp in his hold, chest heaving for breaths.

Ahtaal sets you back down on the ground and spins you around to face him. Those dark eyes of his are scanning every inch of your face and body. They narrowed down on your eyes. His hand pinched your jaw and dragged your head up. “Your eyes… they’re lightly glowing,” he grounded out. You felt his claws digging into the flesh of your cheeks for a moment.

His gaze continued until it notices the rough patch on your chest. The red giant pushes you back until your shoulder blades touched a wall. A hand softly encircling your throat to keep you pinned. He leaned down. His free hand running over the textured skin. You hissed and squirmed in his hold. “Stop, that hurts,” you whined, voice grumbler than usual.

Next, he moved his mouth to the crook of your neck. You felt his tongue rung across the skin there. Ahtaal tensed and growled shortly.

“You smell like a Yautja.” Instantly, you thought he was thinking you were somehow cheating on him or the Bad Bloods scent still lingered on your skin. He pulled back to look you in the eye again. “But it’s your scent.” The words were softly spoken, as if in disbelief.

The hand trapping your neck drifted up to cup your cheek. “What did they do to you?” he snarled but the anger was directed at the two who stole you from him. The question was meant mainly for himself but opened for you to answer.

You swallowed hard, chest still heaving to calm your racing heart. “I-I don’t know,” you cried, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “Something’s wrong with me. Everything’s too loud. Everything’s too much. The air is too dry. It’s cold. My skin… I can feel everything!” Even his hand touching you was starting to drive you insane. The texture was rough against your sensitive skin.

Everything went still. But you could easily hear the engines rumbling, his heart pounding. You could smell his concern, his confusion, his anger. You could read him the same way he could read you.

His furrow deepened before his hand softly left your cheek. It was instant relief. Less contact. Less touch. Less everything.

“I keep the ship colder for you. I lessen the humidity for you,” he muttered and returned to his full height, gaze blank. He was working overtime in his mind. The gears spinning quickly to come up with a solution. You stood leaning against the wall, fingers twitching with the need to rip your own skin off again. “And… you can see in the dark, can’tcha?” Your weak sigh answered him, eyes closing to block out everything.

He took a couple of steps back and shakes his head, trying to deny this. Internally, he was attempting to put the pieces together. To figure out what they have done to his mate. Yet, none of it made sense. The site he found you at… those Bad Bloods, they- his mind stopped there. Pausing as the realization dawned upon his form. Experimented. On you. His mate. They had injected something into you to change you from his perfect mate.

A deafening growled tumbled from his chest. Your hands slammed over your ears at the sound. A pained cry leaving your chapped lips. He stopped immediately and even flinched himself. Pauk.

Instantly, his first mission was to find a way to fix this. To fix you. To save you. To help you. A firm, stern gaze passed over his features. He reached out and tilted your head back. Your eyes sliding open to find the dark gaze of your mate on you. “I will find a way to help you. I will scour this entire universe for a cure,” he grounded out, voice low to help ease the pain it may cause to you.

The Yautja was beyond pissed. He wished to go back when he slaughtered those two Bad Bloods and made their death even longer. For all the pain they have caused you that’s currently injuring you. His mandibles clicked against one another in a harsh way.

You believed him. You knew he would. He’s been through thick and thin with you. You are his as much as he is yours. The corresponding marks etched into the backs of your shoulders was physical proof enough. He grunted with a nod then glanced over at forgotten food. “It seems like you have a Yautja appetite,” he stated and pulled away from you. You dipped your head and also gazed at the dishes.

“Come,” he called and strolled over to the plates. Ahtaal picked up all three skillfully and brought them over to the table. “Eat. Eat everything you desire. It will take you time to grow accustom to this new side of you. But I will help you in every step of the way.” If it didn’t hurt, you would’ve hugged and kiss the alien to death.

Slowly, you moved over and gingerly sat down in a seat he designed for your smaller statue. Until your hunger was satisfied, he fed you whatever you wanted and needed. In that moment, you knew you could never want or need anyone else besides him.

[erose-this-name]

Kabru is such a brilliantly written character, one of the best in Dungeon Meshi (which is a high bar as it is, most of the main cast are similarly genius). 

His thing is that he is very friendly and nice confident and maxed out his charisma stat, but is also kinda ambitious and manipulative. But not in an overtly malicious way. Which kinda scares me.

The most impressive thing about him, writing wise, is that it’s all show-don’t-tell. He very frequently uses his charm and empathy and understanding of how people think in really clever ways.

We’re often walked through his thought process of how he does these social deductions. We’re never told he’s scarily charismatic, besides other characters reacting to him being scarily charismatic.

Kabru is a natural-born leader and social engineer with superlative skills in both, which makes him the perfect foil for Laios, who’s too autistic and unambitious that he’s not even the de facto leader of his own party that he’s the official leader of. He’s so bad at leadership that his party just, sort of, doesn’t have a leader. They just kinda argue and do stuff.

What’s also neat, and perfectly inline with Meshi’s general theme of clever and logical subversions of fantasy tropes, is that Kabru’s character design in no way clues us in on this fundamental character trait of his.

He’s sort of a human fighter / knight archetype, which in the language of fantasy RPGs is a class most would associate with being a white bread jock, chivalrousness optional.

(Laios subverts the same trope in the same way. It’s really funny that the walking exposition dump of the group looks like the character creator default preset spec’d as the most generic class available.)

If Kabru was a bard or noble and Laios a wizard, their character traits would be far less interesting

Even better is that we would expect someone who looks like Laios to have Kabru’s personality, and vice versa. Their character designs are flipped; the confident super charismatic leader is a short wide-eyed twink, while the slightly naive and very autistic monster enthusiast is a tall conventionally attractive Aryan lookin’ mf.

(see what I mean by Kabru being such a good foil for Laios?? No wonder everyone ships them, they’re perfect for each other!)

Yet, their designs also work for them. Kabru just has a face that’s easy to talk to, his piercing blue eyes and curly hair gives him a false sense of naïveté, while his iconic 👁️👁️ expression hints that there’s actually quite a bit going on inside his head. Meanwhile, Laios believably looks like someone who doesn’t know what hair conditioner is. His armor’s collar gorget thing is also pretty dorky.

You can’t trust people like that (I mean overly charismatic people with a manipulative streak, not blue-eyed twinks) because you can’t know what their real motives are. You can’t know they aren’t pretending, you can’t know they aren’t trying to or haven’t already manipulated you. How could you? When he has so much more social intelligence than you do, average socially awkward Tumblr user? He’s touched all the grass!

In episode 16 (spoilers, btw) Kabru finally meets Laios’s party, who he’s been trying to find and fight for the better part of the season, and he just decides that no confrontation is necessary. Like, immediately upon meeting the guy. Just from how Laios looked at him. He figures that since Laios didn’t seem to recognize him, they either have never met meaning he has the wrong guy, or Laios forgot meaning he didn’t think it’d be a big deal, meaning the treasure was a trap or something. Which is pretty in line with Kabru’s established ability to always roll nat 20s for every charisma and deductive reasoning check, so cool.

But he doesn’t even seem curious about which of those cases is true. (He might be interested to find out some of the treasure wasn’t dangerous, but accidentally got thrown off a bridge). Much to Rin’s dismay, he’d rather just not bring it up because that could upset the leader of the party he might be working with for the foreseeable future.

Actions speak louder than words. So, all we really learn in this scene is that Kabru’s goals and M.O. can change on a dime, and that he values reputation and political capital more than money and vengeance. More than his own party’s desire for those things. Not only is he someone with a silver tongue, but he knows its value and is determined to use it at every opportunity.

Kabru and his party might not be very good at fighting or surviving in the dungeon, in fact their frequent TPKs are a running gag. But, he also doesn’t need to be when he can just manipulate Laios’ and Shuro’s much more proficient parties into helping him.

So far, Kabru seems like the most likely one to become king of the dungeon or whatever the mcguffin is. He is the only protagonist so far who has said that’s an actual goal of his. He’s said that he doesn’t think someone like Laios who isn’t a born leader should get it.

In fact, Kabru seems to have very strong opinions on what kinds of people should be allowed to adventure in the dungeon, evidenced by the fact that he murdered an entire party over it, justified or not. Kabru seems to think that Kabru is such a leader, and he’s probably right about that, but what kind of leader? 

What would Kabru do with that kind of power if he gets it? Because I’m not sure. All I know is that he is the kind of person with the ability to use real political power to its full potential. For good, or for very, very bad.

I’m not saying that Kabru is evil or that he’s secretly gonna be the surprise villain. I dunno, I haven’t read the manga. He could just be a nice guy that’s just, like, is like that. Everything he’s done could be justified by the explanations he’s given. He actually reminds me a lot of one of my IRL friends, and I’d trust him with my life.

But, I can’t help but feel a distinct sense of unease whenever he’s on-screen. I try not to trust confident natural-born leaders like him right out of the gate. I don’t like that our instinct as humans is to blindly follow them without thinking about it.

Tyrants and psychopaths also use confidence and charm and a friendly demeanor to make people think they’re a good guy, while manipulating everyone into thinking their self-serving actions are altruistic. Benevolent, confident, skilled leaders do exist. But there exists many more snakes wearing their skin. Wolves rarely bother with sheep’s clothing, they dress as shepherds and sheepdogs.

Anyway, my point is that I think it’s kinda neat that it’s possible to overthink this much about a character whose probably just a nice guy that is the mirror opposite of an autistic person. Writing that kind of ambiguity is hard, and employing it in this way is inspired.