#race oneshot

[heliads]

All in the Words

Based on this request: "race and some of the newsies are hanging out with yn and yn is acting all tough. They keep trying to make her drop that attitude by making jokes, and race flirts with her as a joke. Yn gets all nervous and blushy so he just keeps going thinking its adorable until yn fires back and he kinda dies"

me when i flirt with someone and they instantly perish

masterlist

Dawn comes and goes, and you are not there to see it. Normally, this would fill you with more than a small amount of fear– miss your morning schedule, and you’ll be hours behind when it comes to selling newspapers. Newsies live in the daylight hours, shouting slogans and catchy headlines as long as there are still people out on the street who can see enough to hand you coins. It does make it difficult to get up so early each morning, but it’s not like you have a ton of options otherwise.

Yet when you open your eyes this morning and see not sunrise but a well established day, you feel not a bit displeased with yourself. After all, why should you? Today, as it turns out, all newsies across the city will have a day off. The newspapers don’t like printing on holidays, so you can get off scot free for the whole set of twenty-four hours. Nothing says special like that.

For newsies, days off are a bit of a mixed bag. There is, of course, the immediate response to hearing that you won’t have to get up at dawn and spend too many hours out on the streets hawking papes. That would explain the shrieks and calls of glee from some of the younger newsies. Older ones, too. The second Jack Kelly heard about the holiday, he muttered something about having to talk to someone and hurried off in the direction of the New York Sun. You have a feeling he’s tracking down a particularly pretty journalist.

It’s great to think that you won’t have to work. However, you aren’t a newsie for the thrill of it. Not working means you don’t get paid, and that’s far less fun than one would care to imagine. That’s why you’ve been carefully saving your pennies for weeks now, just trying to make sure you’ll have enough to cover today’s costs before your job comes back the next day. It’s a life spread thin, to be sure, but it’s what you’ve got, and you don’t intend to waste it.

Still, sleeping in is pretty nice indeed. You allow yourself one last moment of leisure before dragging yourself out of bed. Most kids in the Manhattan Lodging House have partaken in the same delights– more than half of them are still sleeping peacefully in their bunks. You do your best to get ready as quietly as you can, and shut the door silently behind you.

By the time noon rolls around, the rest of your friends are up and at ‘em. Most of you are choosing to either kick back and relax in the Lodging House or go look for trouble somewhere else in the city. You heard Spot popped in once to check on a deal with Jack, but other than that, there are no threats in sight.

None to your physical health, at least. Threats to your peace and quiet still exist. You’ve barely sat down on your favorite threadbare armchair in a corner of the main room (the title being won by a good few rounds of fisticuffs, all solidly settled in your favor) before your name is being tossed around by some of the newsies nearby. You have a feeling that they’re trying to be discreet, but their whispers sound more like shouts when you’re indoors instead of yelling to be heard in the streets of Manhattan.

Four boys are causing trouble today, as it appears. Race, Jojo, Albert, and Romeo. All of the newsies are good friends– you have to be, at any rate, or you’ll lose your head with the godawful conditions of being outside all day– but these four are no exception. They’re the closest of anyone here, exceptions being Jack and Crutchie.

Today it seems they’ll be proving their camaraderie by trying to get a rise out of you. This isn’t anything special. You have a bit of a reputation for being stone cold, but can they blame you? Girls have to fight twice as hard to stay alive in this city, so what if you’re more here to keep yourself afloat than make friends? You’re nice when you have to be, but you keep your distance when you want it. Just because you’re not flirting all the time doesn’t mean you hate the rest of them.

The ‘Hattan boys know you don’t hate them, but that doesn’t stop the four newsies nearest you from trying to win you over anyway in the only method they know best:  being annoying and turning everything into a joke. Romeo tries his luck first, shooting his shot with a tip of his cap and a wink. You arch one derisive brow, which is all it takes for him to give up and head back to his friends.

Albert is next. He starts off strong with a story about a dream he’d had last night about pretty girls going out with him, but you cut him off thoughtfully with a recollection of a dream you’d had recently where all boys left you alone under pain of death. Struck out, he gestures for Jojo to take over.

Jojo’s attempts at flattery are so awful that you give up on trying to entertain yourself by watching them fail. You reach over for a paperback Katherine had left behind on her last visit to the Manhattan Lodging House. The book serves the dual purpose of letting you ignore the laughter of the boys and also hiding your face for the last of their attempts.

See, you can ignore Albert or Romeo any day. They’re just friends, just coworkers. You’ll never see them in any sort of romantic light. The problem comes with Race. Race is charming. Race is cute. Race is the only one who has ever been able to get through the strongest of your walls. It doesn’t matter if he’s just doing it as a joke, if Race flirts with you in the slightest, you will be affected by it.

Best to make sure he can’t tell, then, so you prop up the book in front of your face and pray he can’t see the slight smile that makes its way across your lips when Race tries his hand at flirting. It wasn’t even a good pickup line. Still, it worked, and that is absolutely devastating to your reputation.

The worst part is that he knows it, too. Even though you do your best to act as if you’re absolutely fine, you can tell by the triumphant tilt of his head that he knows it. Y/N’s got a weakness at last, and it’s Race. Of course it is.

The other boys don’t seem to have caught on, though, they’re just laughing raucously amongst themselves about the usual. Albert calls something out to Race about wanting to go take a tour of the shop next door, but Race doesn’t even look back, gesturing for them to go on without him without turning even once.

“You should go with them,” you say as indifferently as you can.

“Why?” Race asks, cocking his head to the side, “I’ve got a far prettier sight in front of me right now.”

You roll your eyes, but even you can feel the slight heat pricking your cheeks. “You’re insufferable.”

“Apparently not,” Race muses, “or you wouldn’t be smiling at me.”

You do your best to hide the offensive expression away, but your best attempts at staying serious just make your smile more stubborn. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” he says happily, “it’s not just because of me, is it? I bet Y/N L/N would never be susceptible to something like a boy.”

“Not even to a cute boy?” You ask, eyes wide with pretend surprise.

This, of all things, makes Race stutter over his words. You didn’t think it would be possible for Race to get nervous over someone flirting with him, but apparently you were wrong, because he’s all but shaking in his boots right now.

“That’s sweet of you,” he manages to eke out.

You grin. The tables have turned. “Funny,” you say, “I didn’t think Race Higgins would ever be susceptible to something like a girl.”

“I love it when you pay attention to me,” Race retorts, but it carries far less of the easy confidence he’d had earlier. In fact, Race looks like he can’t believe his eyes.

“I’m sure you do,” you muse, “Shame it doesn’t happen more often. If I knew you were going to react like this, maybe I would have started flirting back earlier.”

“I think you should keep doing it anyway,” Race whispers.

You laugh. “Only if you flirt back.”

“Oh, always, sweetheart, you know that,” Race says.

It’s easy to smile after that. Maybe Race has been flirting with you for a while, but maybe he’s meant what he said all along, too. It’s good that you’ll have plenty of time to figure him out, then. Yes, plenty of time indeed.

newsies tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @misguidedswagger, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie

[cutielando]

mr. and mrs. ~ oscar piastri

Summary: Wedding of the year is finally here between the two favorite youngsters on the grid. Everyone is invited!

Words: 1.3k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Oscar and Y/N.

Y/N and Oscar.

Everyone knew them, everyone loved them.

Ever since the young Australian lad had entered the Formula 1 world, Y/N had entered it with him. Always by his side, always attending his races while also attending university.

They had been together for many years, practically having invented the term “highschool sweethearts”. Despite Oscar’s busy schedule and Y/N being at university, they always made it work, never letting the distance affect their relationship.

Moving together to the UK had represented the first sign that they were both in it for the long ride. Packing up their entire lives and moving across the globe to follow their dreams proved that their relationship and the love they had was real.

Real and pure.

When Oscar got the opportunity to drive in Formula 1 and Y/N started her studies, the time they spent together shortened by a significant amount, but they managed to make it work.

They talked on the phone every day, texting when neither of them could speak on the phone, they took every opportunity to visit each other when they had free time, with Y/N visiting Oscar at his races or Oscar coming home when he would have 2 weeks off between races.

They made it work.

But Oscar wasn’t satisfied. He needed something more. He needed something that would put his mind at ease when he would be away.

He needed to officially make you his.

Towards the end of the season, you had a few weeks off uni and decided to join your boyfriend in Qatar for the Grand Prix.

You hadn’t really chosen the best race to attend, the heat and the humidity making it really strenuous on your already tired body. But seeing the smile that Oscar had while doing the grid walk with you by his side made it worth it.

Being there for Oscar’s sprint win had been the highlight of your entire year. Seeing him cross the checkered flag first, seeing his name on that first position on every monitor around the paddock, the feeling was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

Up until the moment Oscar got out of the car.

He made his way over to where you were waiting for him after he celebrated a little with the team, taking off his helmet and balaclava and giving them to one of his assistants.

“How about that?” he asked, chuckling as he pulled you into his arms, careful not to squeeze you too tightly because he was sweaty.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Os. I can’t believe I was here for your first win” you said, your voice muffled because you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“It’s technically not considered a win bec-”

“Shut up and enjoy the moment” you interrupted, making him chuckle and continue hugging you.

As he let go of you, you didn’t notice him reaching for something behind his back, not even his assistant subtly handing him something as he appeared again from the garage. All you could focus on was him, and nothing else around you.

It only really hit you when Oscar lowered himself down on one knee in front of you, a red velvet box in his hand.

“Oh my God” you said, your eyes widening and your hands flying up to your mouth.

All around you, the McLaren team gathered in a circle, phones ready and cameras rolling to catch the sweet moment on camera.

“Y/N, I don’t even know whether words will suffice to say what I want to say right now. You’ve been by my side since we were kids, you moved to the UK with me and left your entire family in Australia just for me, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, I frankly don’t think I could survive on my own if you weren’t here. I want to grow old with you, I want to have kids with you and build the life we’ve always talked about having. Y/N, will you marry me?” the words got stuck in your throat, so you settled for nodding feverishly.

The entire team around you cheered, but you could only see Oscar. As he got up and slid the ring on your left hand, you threw yourself into his arms and softly cried, the moment far too emotional to be able to hold back.

Your engagement had become national news in a matter of a couple of hours. Every media channel from the world had written about Oscar’s proposal in Qatar, speculating about when the wedding would be and whatnot.

It didn’t even feel like it had really happened when you stared at the ring on your finger, the feeling foreign but so welcome and like it was meant to be.

You and Oscar had multiple talks about when you would get married, where you would have the wedding and many other problems that came with being away from home and everyone’s families.

Which is why you decided to have the wedding back home in Australia.

After the season was finished and the winter break came, you and Oscar had started planning the wedding, which you settled to have after the last race before the summer break. He had already sent invitations out to the rest of the drivers, all of them very eager to attend the young lad’s wedding.

Lando was especially thrilled, but couldn’t help making jokes about how he had never thought Oscar would be the one getting married so young.

“What did you do to him, Y/N? You charmed him pretty damn well” he’d always joke whenever you guys would hang out in the garage before a race.

Yours and Oscar’s mothers took care of most of the things regarding the venue, the flower arrangements and catering, wanting to take the load off of you while you were halfway across the world.

The only thing that you had to worry about was picking your wedding dress and flying over to Australia to get married.

And when the day had finally come, excitement flowed through your veins.

Nicole and Oscar’s sisters had helped do your hair and make-up, your mother only watching as she sobbed quietly in the background.

“Mom, you’re gonna make me cry too if you don’t stop” you told her as you watched her through your mirror, making the other girls laugh.

“I just can’t believe my baby is getting married” she laughed, wiping her tears and walking up to stand behind you.

You smiled and took her hand, mostly to calm your nerves as well.

You were really getting married. And to the love of your life, which was a plus.

After you were prepped and ready to go, your father came to fetch you to walk you down the aisle. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you held his arm tightly and clutched the flower bouquet tightly in your other hand.

But your nerves disappeared like they had never even been there when the doors opened and you locked eyes with Oscar waiting for you at the end of the aisle, Logan beaming behind him as his best man.

The ceremony went by in a blur, the only focus on your part being on Oscar. You only vaguely remembered saying your vows and saying “I do”, your memory only having imprinted the first kiss you two shared as husband and wife.

You were positive that nothing could ever top this moment, getting married with all of your friends and families present, stepping into your new life with Oscar by your side.

Nothing could ever be better.

Nothing could top you becoming Mrs. Piastri.

Being Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.

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[fadedncity]

give me the greenlight

wc: 19.0k…y'all i genuinely don't know how

pairing: mark x fem!reader

cw: smut, street racing au, childhood friends to lovers, non idol au, college au, lil angst, fluff, mention of other idols, slight allusions to a toxic ex, alcohol consumption, use of marijuana, mark's lowkey a big flirt, switch!mark, switch!reader, auralism, thigh riding, dirty talk, pet names, praising, teasing, marking, fingering, semi public sex, car sex, oral sex (giving/receiving), exhibitionism (barely), multiple orgasms, protected sex, aftercare, way more plot than i expected, lmk if i missed anything

[9:16 PM] FRIDAY

"Come on. The cops are gonna bust it before we even get there!" Summer stomped her heels like a whiny child.

"You know these things never start on time, we will be fine," you said, coming down the stairs.

"You could always go ahead of us and we'll meet you there," Nyla said, checking herself in the mirror, "Oh wait, you can't drive," she deadpanned.

"Only temporarily," Summer rolled her eyes.

"Only until your suspension is lifted," you reminded.

"One of you could let me borrow a car. It's only an issue if I get caught." Summer says matter of factly, like either of you would side with her.

"That is the issue, sweetie, you did get caught." Nyla pats Summer's cheek.

Summer crossed her arms, again acting like a moody toddler.

"Let's go," you grabbed your keys off the table, "Thought you didn't wanna be late." You said to Summer, heading out the door.

With an annoyed huff, Summer gathered her things and followed you and Nyla out the door.

The three of you got into your car, the gentle purr of the engine coming to life once you put the key in the ignition, sending vibrations through the entire vehicle. Music filtered through the speakers as you pulled out of your spot and took off down the street.

"Hyuck said to make sure you turn your lights off when you're coming up," Summer relayed a message she received from Haechan once you were halfway there.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," you waved off.

You turned off your headlights once you neared the exit, moving offroad. You carefully drove into the woods on unpaved ground, heading deeper into the darkness as the distant streetlights weren't doing anything to assist your sight anymore. 

"I always hate this part," Nyla says from the passenger seat.

"Gotta make sure we don't get caught if any cops are hiding around here." You said.

"I know, but it always feels like the beginning of a horror movie. And you know the hot ones always die first," Nyla pouted.

You found the opening in the fence, worn down from being driven over so many times, and pulled into the abandoned army base, finally able to cut your lights back on.

The sound of music playing and tires screeching on the pavement could already be heard from the runway the meet was on, and you were still a few hangars away.

You slow down once you reach the crowd taking over the runway. People move out of the way as you cruise down the road, looking for a spot to park.

"Ain't that Johnny over there," Summer pointed from the backseat.

"I'd recognize that giant beanstalk anywhere," you say before honking your horn, startling the Aquarius and getting his attention.

"Wow, the princess actually graces us with her presence on this lovely night," Johnny curtsies, and you scoff.

"Just move out the way before I run your ass over." you tell him.

You backed your car into the spot next to Johnny, and your friends practically jumped out of the vehicle before you could put it in park. You hadn't even closed your door when Johnny embraced you in a tight hug. 

"Jesus, John, gonna crack a rib," you gasp.

"Feels like we don't see you at these things anymore," He let you go.

"Come on, it hasn't been that long. I was here like a few weeks ago."

"For like 20 minutes. You left before you could even see me smoke Jungwoo," he crossed his arms over his chest.

You remember that night. You had totally forgotten the assignment you had due at 11:59 and raced back home to turn it in on time.

"Shit. That's my bad. You know it's just stuff with the garage and school and…stuff," you trail off.

"Yeah, I get it," Johnny slung his arm around you, "You're doing good though, kiddo," you both started following behind Nyla and Summer as they wandered off.

"How do you figure?"

"Made it further than me. I had already dropped out by this point," Johnny said, sharing a laugh.

The music came from every direction with people displaying their boosted sound systems out of their trunks. All cars of different makes and models lined the sides of the track. The ones not focusing on the races were too busy gawking at the expensive modifications under the hoods of those showing them off.

"Last chance. Winner take all," you instantly recognize Chenle's voice over the rest of the clamor.

You watch Summer reach into her bag, giving Chenle an indescribable amount, looking proud of herself.

"Who're you betting on?" Johnny asks her. 

"Yeri, duh," she answered. 

"You sure that was a good choice?" he teases.

"Obviously. Hyuck ain't got shit on her." 

"Yeah, alright," Johnny rolled his eyes, taking a bit of offense himself.

"Where is Haechan, by the way? He's up next," Jeno says.

"Over there talking to Jaemin," Chenle nodded to the opposite side of the runway where Jaemin's car was parked.

You spotted the back of Haechan's head, speaking to Jaemin through the window of his car, probably checking the police scanner and making sure you're all still in the clear, no doubt. Then your eyes land on the guy standing next to him, recognizing his silhouette.

"Oh my god, is that-" Summer starts.

"Mark Lee?" you will your vision to focus from this distance to see clearer. "Mark's back in town and no one said anything?" you hit Johnny's arm.

"You would know if you were here." Chenle shrugged.

"I'm sorry, who is Mark?" Nyla asks.

Everyone turned and looked at Nyla.

"Mark Lee? How do you not know Mark?" Summer says, showing Nyla his Instagram.

"How did you pull that up so fast?" Renjun asks.

"Holy shit, he's good," Nyla says, impressed, and you already know Summer pulled up one of the videos of him racing.

"Better be. I taught him." Johnny smiles like a proud father. "We all go way back," he says, "Ain't that right?" Johnny nudges your arm.

Way back. 

Way back when you used to spend hours at the garage with your father after school and only knew Johnny as your father's best and favorite (unconfirmed) employee. And Mark was some boy from your high school that you didn't even know until you went to your first dig.

Way back doesn't even feel that far away anymore now seeing him. It almost feels exactly like the night you met after you snuck out to the first car meet.

"If your father knew you were here, he would lose his shit. If he found out I let you drive, he would have my head. You are not getting into any car—getting behind any wheel tonight under any circumstances. Do you understand?" Johnny said. 

"But-" 

"Aht, I mean it," he said, shooting you down before changing the subject, "You know Mark, right?" Johnny asked. 

"No, I don't know Mark." 

"Well, this is Mark," Johnny said, yanking the boy out of a conversation to introduce the both of you. "You mind keeping each other company, and make sure she stays out of..everything," Johnny not so quietly muttered to Mark. "I'm up next, so be good while I'm gone," Johnny patted your head before he hopped in his car, leaving the two of you alone. 

"I can't image he's much less of a jackass at work." Mark joked. 

"He definitely isn't. I don't think it's something he can turn off," you laughed before you looked over at him, "How'd you know I'm from the garage?" you asked. 

"Johnny said you might be here tonight. He talks about you all the time, like a little sister he's never had," Mark tells you. 

"Oh really? What else has he said?" 

"You're one hell of a driver."

"Come on, it's starting," Summer pulling on your arm, tore you out of your thoughts, and you realize Mark's no longer in your sight, having lost him in the crowd.

People gather on either side of the runway, cheering as Haechan's electric blue supra pulled up next to Yeri's lavender-wrapped GT-R at the spray-painted line that served as the starting and finish line.

Chenle stood in front of them, looking at both drivers. He raised his arms, both drivers reviving up their cars. Haechan burns out his tires, kicking up smoke behind his car before Chenle drops his arms, and both speed off past him down the road.

Through all the commotion, you spotted Mark again, and before you could even think about it, you were already weaving your way through the crowd to get to him.

"So you thought you could just come back to town and not say anything to anybody?" you say, getting his attention.

Mark's eyes light up, no longer concerned with the race upon seeing you.

"I just got in yesterday, but heard you were gonna be here tonight. So I thought I'd surprise you."

"Consider me surprised."

You take the time to notice everything about him, the things that have changed and the things that haven't. Like his hair, no longer dark with the typical schoolboy cut. It's now grown out and blonde—that was as much as you could tell from the beanie it was all tucked underneath. But nothing about his face is much different than how you remember it. Still the same soft eyes you can get yourself lost in and the sweet smile that used to bring one to your face.

"So who's your money on?" Mark asks you.

"You know I'm not throwing anything unless I really got something to lose," you say, "But if I did put my money on one of them it would definitely be Yeri. She's winning this."

"Yeah, she's a good driver but don't you know what Haechan has under his hood?"

"Yeah, but it's no match for what's under Yeri's. And I would know. I put it all together myself," you smiled proudly.

You heard the cars approaching, closing in on the finishing line. From this distance, it's hard to tell who's winning, but you aren't as eager as the rest of the crowd cheering on either side to see who would make it to the end first.

The cars blurred past you, wind whipping behind them, blowing your hair out of place a bit as you turned to Mark.

"Now would you look at that," you smiled as Yeri was announced as the winner, "I know it's been a while Mark, but the last thing you should forget is that I'm always right."

"Trust, there isn't anything about you I could forget," Mark says before excusing himself to provide Haechan with moral support.

You don't know why fluttering kicks up in your stomach at his words, and you can't fight the smirk that stretches across your face as you watch him walk away. But you try to ignore it and go to congratulate Yeri on her win.

[10:32 PM] 

"Okay but like I almost had her," Haechan continues to explain. 

You hadn't been listening to Haechan, finding yourself too entranced with looking at Mark talking to Jungwoo and Somi a few feet away from you; you didn't even notice Nyla approaching.

"So like were you two a thing?" Nyla asks, startling you.

"What? Me and Mark?" you furrow your brows, "No, no, we were just friends."

"You were close?" she asks.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." you tell her.

"This one yours?" Mark asks, getting your attention.

"I'm standing next to it, aren't I?" you reply, running your hand over the top of your car.

"And as good as you look doing it, I just wonder if you're still as good at driving it as I remember."

"You think I lost my touch while you were away?" you push yourself away from your car, shortening the distance between the both of you.

Mark shrugs, "You tell me," he smirks.

"You know I'm more show than tell," the corners of your lips turn up.

"Is anybody else seeing this?" Nyla looks around, asking.

"Like old times?" you smile.

"Just like old times," he replies.

"For how much?" you ask.

"Let's just settle with $200 for now, nothing too serious."

"Afraid I'd clean you straight out?" you teased, "Fine by me."

Everyone's now tuned into the exchange between the two of you, a mix of reactions to what was going on with you and Mark.

"Oh shit, this is gonna be good," Haechan slid off the hood of his car, engaging in the action.

"Are they really doing this right now?" Renjun asks.

"You best believe they are. Time to make a profit—Place your bets now!" Yangyang began yelling into the crowd as you and Mark started your cars.

"You two ready?" Ten asks, standing in front of your vehicles at the starting line.

"Unless Mark's having second thoughts," you look over at Mark in his car.

Mark smirked, "Are you?"

"Hell no," you revved up your engine.

With Ten's signal, your foot hovers over the gas pedal. Bringing his hands down, you and Mark take off down the runway.

You're instantly transported back to the summer nights you and Mark spent driving around abandoned warehouses and garages.

You remember staying out for hours—most times til the sun came up, trying to perfect drifting. The amounts of tires you blew out and dents you inflicted on the car you had then led the two of you to spend your days in your father's garage, repairing the damage.

You prepare yourself for the turn coming up on the track that had been carved out. It's almost as if you and Mark move in perfect sync as you shift your gears. Your tires glide on the concrete, smoothly drifting your car around the corner, a bit of smoke trailing behind you from the burning rubber.

With as fast as you were both going, you should've expected the race to end as soon as it started. And when you both drove over the finish line, it was almost hard to tell who won. But you had Mark by a fender.

"I see you have forgot I always win too," You say to Mark as Ten hands you the money, "But that's the first real race I've had in a while, so thank you for that."

"If you're really that appreciative then how about we go again," Mark offers.

"I don't wanna take anymore of your money, Mark," you say teasingly.

He rolls his eyes before leaning out of his car, "If you really don't, how about if I win, you let me take you out."

It was the last thing you expected to hear come out of Mark's mouth. You would almost describe his demeanor as cocky, but you've seen cocky, and the confidence has never looked so good on someone.

Who is this man, and what has he done with the Mark Lee you knew? 

But you weren't going to back down just because your heartbeat picks up, and you know it's not just from the adrenaline.

"How about when I win?" you ask.

He pauses, thinking for a second before saying, "You get my car."

Your eyes light up at the proposition, "Have fun walking home tonight, Markie," you laugh.

"Bitch, if you don't let him win," Summer says, coming up to your window.

"There's no way in hell I'm doing that. Do you see that car?" you say.

"Do you see that man? He wants to take me out, who am I to put a question mark where the universe placed a period?" Nyla says, looking at Mark while he talks to Haechan.

"Look, if there are no hard feelings after I give that car a few adjustments, maybe a new paint job, and Mark still wants to take me out, he can," you shrugged.

"Trust me, he'll want to. He's been eyeing you all night." Summer hits your arm.

"Shut up, he has not," you swat her away.

"Excuse me, ladies, but if you don't mind, my man Mark has a date to win," Haechan says, making it clear who he was rooting for.

"Yeah, keep on wishing, Hyuck," Summer yelled back, "You better fucking win now." she tells you.

It was Jeno this time who stood between both cars raising his arms, giving you and Mark the signal to get set. With a nod, Jeno drops his arms, and your car accelerates, taking off, Mark right there beside you. Your entire focus was on the road ahead of you, not even Mark, who would steal glances at you from time to time.

You start getting some distance between your cars, already thinking about the new rims you'd order. But all that flies out the window when you spot a cat in the road ahead of you.

You had two choices; stop or swerve into the muddy ditch to your left, as any third option would leave someone getting hurt, so you didn't even consider it. Slamming on the breaks, you come to a quick stop as the cat stands in front of your car.

"Motherfucker," you muttered under your breath.

As Mark passed you, you swore you could've heard his laugh in the wind.

You swerved around the cat, applying heavy weight to the gas, getting back into your lane, and catching back up with Mark once you approached the turn. By the time you reached the top end, you were only about an inch away from pulling ahead of Mark's car.

You heard the distorted whirls of screams filter in through your windows as you both drove over the line, everyone cheering for the winner.

"Fuck," you whined.

You really wanted that Evo.

"Did you actually let him win?" Summer asks, stunned.

"Fuck no. There was a cat on the runway, I didn't wanna hit it," you say, slamming your door shut.

"Are you serious?" Renjun asks with a laugh.

"How the fuck else would there be a way to explain how I lost?" you say.

"You wanted to let him wi-" Johnny's cut off by Mark's hand over his mouth.

"It's true, I saw it run across," Mark attests, "But still if rules are rules and winning is winning..." he shrugs with a smile.

"You got lucky, Mark. Don't let it go to your head too much," you cross your arms over your chest.

"May be a little too late for that," Mark says, eyeing you up and down.

"Jesus, were they always like this?" Nyla asks, handing Johnny the money she placed on you.

"I have no idea where the fuck any of this came from. What am I even watching right now?" Johnny says, taking the cash.

"Hey! Did you bet against me?" you ask Johnny.

"Sorry, kid. It's just business," Johnny yells back, counting the money.

"Fucking traitor," you grumble.

Then you hear the static coming from the coms (walkie-talkies, but the boys say it's immature and insist on saying coms instead), Jisung relaying something to Chenle.

"Oh shit," Chenle said, "Cops! Cops are coming!" he yelled.

Everything stopped, and everyone scattered like roaches when the lights came on.

People were running in all different directions, jumping into anything on wheels to get away. You got into your car, searching the crowd for Nyla and Summer because you weren't gonna leave without them if they arrived with you. But you caught them getting into Jaehyun's car, so you drove away.

You heard the sirens getting closer, watching the red and blue lights flash in your rearview as you made your getaway from the old army base. Only you and a few others had the same idea of using the same way you came in to get out since the cops were coming from the main entrance, trying to round everyone up. Or at least the ones that weren't fast enough.

You cut off your headlights, driving through the woods to get to the highway, when you heard your phone vibrating in your cup holder before answering it.

"You guys okay?" you ask Nyla.

"Yeah, pretty sure everyone made it out. Where are you?" Nyla asks.

"On my way to the garage to drop the car. Then I'm going over to Johnny's."

"Alright, we'll see you there."

"Alright." you hung up.

[12:26 AM] SATURDAY 

As you walked up to Johnny's street, you could already see the partying had continued as if it was never interrupted.

Cars were double parked, taking up the entire street in front of the house. People were scattered all over the lawn, still carrying on as if you all didn't just have to run for your lives to end up here. You could already hear the music from inside Johnny's house as you walked up the front steps.

"You know, the whole point of coming over here is to lay low and not attract the attention of the cops right back to us again." you say to Johnny, finding him first on the front porch.

"It'll be fine, none of the neighbors are gonna complain," Johnny says without an ounce of worry on his face as he rolls a joint.

Before you walk into the house, you stop and ask Johnny again, "You really bet against me?"

"Look, it's not that I think he's the better racer," Johnny pauses to wet the ends of the papers with his tongue, "But you weren't gonna pass up a chance to let him take you out," he teases.

Johnny begins laughing as you hit his arm, "I told you it was the fucking cat."

You leave Johnny, still laughing, on the porch, entering the house. Making your way through the crowded hallway, you reach the kitchen, finding Nyla, Summer, and Jaehyun along with Goeun.

"Finally, what took you so long? Almost hit another cat on your way over?" Summer asks, sipping on her drink.

"Haha, very fucking funny," you spit, flipping her off.

"Here, calm down, and take this," Johnny hands you the lit joint.

"Where do you even think the cat came from? Was it alone? What if it was a mother and she had a litter? Oh my god no, we have to go back and find it," Goeun asks, making it very clear she's already a few shots in.

Now if someone brings that cat up one more time…

"Can we please just stop talking about the cat," you sigh, taking one last drag.

Passing off the joint to Jaehyun, your mind was already growing hazy, your body feeling less weighed down, and you wandered out of the kitchen. You spot Jaemin and Jeno in the backyard smoking with Somi, Mingi, and Doyeon. Somi lifts the joint toward you, offering before you tell her you're good for now. You were then drawn to the living room when you heard Haechan's voice going back and forth with another's.

"Dude, stop running me over!" Haechan complained.

"Stop getting in my way!" Sunwoo yelled back.

The two boys had planted themselves in front of the TV, quickly moving their fingers over the controls in their hands as they played GTA. Aside from the ones entertained by Hyuck and Sunwoo playing, the living room was packed with others dancing, drinking, and smoking, so you didn't even attempt to make your way through.

You spun on your heels and continued to meander around the house. But you were stopped in your tracks when you were approached by Mark.

"Peace offering?" Mark hands you a drink.

"You know I'm not actually mad about losing, Mark," you take the cup from him, sipping the contents as he leans against the walls next to you.

"Does that mean, if I would've just asked you instead; a date or my car, you would've chosen-"

"Your car, definitely," you say, "Mark, you're cute and all but your car...That's like a wet dream on wheels," you tell him, and he bursts into laughter. 

"You think I'm cute?" he asks, raising a brow at you.

It registers that that is what you said to him, even without realizing it. But it's not like it's a lie, so you don't deny it.

"I do." Always have. "And fortunately, you still have your car. So where do you plan on taking me in it?"

"I'm not telling you that."

You scoff, "Why not?"

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises." you whine.

"You didn't seem to hate me surprising you tonight."

"That's different."

"You'll like this one," Mark tells you.

"What if you're wrong and I hate it?"

"You won't." Mark wasn't going to crack, depriving you of the information.

"Fine. But when I imagine you've planned out the most extravagant date of the century, and it doesn't meet my expectations and turns out the be the worst date of my life, I will never let you live it down, Mark Lee," you say.

He laughed at your dramatics, "I'll take that chance."

"Can I at least know when to expect this to happen?" you ask.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"I can be."

"Perfect. I'll pick you up at 6."

"Who gets dinner at 6. We aren't seniors, Mark."

"Who said I was just taking you dinner?" he tilts his head. 

"You've only been here about 36 hours and I've only known you're back for three of them, how could you have possibly planned something already?"

"Just gotta trust me," he says, lifting his cup to lips, "And wear something nice. Not too nice. But nice."

"Wow, Mark, that is so helpful." 

"I do what I can," he smiles at you rolling your eyes. 

Mark only breaks eye contact when he feels the intruding gaze of another.

"Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but why does Leo look like he wants to hit me with his car."

Ignoring any subtleties, you turn to find exactly what Mark was talking about. Across the room, you see Leo leaning against a wall, drinking his beer, and glaring at you and Mark. 

You scoff and wave it off, "It's nothing. He's just trying that big bad intimidating ex-boyfriend shit. Thinks it's actually gonna work and bring me right back into his arms," you sip your drink.

"No way you dated him," Mark stares at you, jaw dropped, "Jesus, I leave and you suddenly lose your taste in men."

"Shut up," you shove him with a laugh.

A soft smile comes to your face as you find yourself getting lost in Mark's eyes. That was until you were interrupted by someone calling your name to get your attention.

Mark could feel his posture correcting itself as Yeonjun approached the corner you both occupied, you with open arms.

Yeonjun was another ex of yours. But you only dated for a couple months in high school before ending things on good terms, agreeing to just stay friends.

"Should've known if there was gonna be one person to actually get you out there on the track, it would be Mark," Yeonjun says, "What's up, man," he greets Mark.

"Hey, man," Mark nods.

It's not like Mark had anything against the man. They were pretty well acquainted through you and the other mutual friends he shared with Yeonjun. But it was the little prick of a feeling some may describe as a bit of jealousy Mark gets when he sees Yeonjun with you sometimes. Especially now, considering how close you and Yeonjun were before, Mark can only imagine what it's like now, and he's suddenly regretting all the time he's missed.

"Yeah, since he's not a little bitch and can actually give me a race worth my while," you tease Yeonjun, putting a smile on Mark's face.

"Oh, I know you're not grouping me in with the rest of them," Yeonjun pointed over his shoulder, "fell for the trap last time, and it cost me a Camaro."

"Don't worry. You know she's been in good hands," you say.

"Yeah. And you wasted no time with a new paint job, I see," Yeonjun crossed his arms over his chest.

"It was very much needed. I don't know what it is with you guys and that horrendous orange," you scrunch your face.

"So pink was the obvious answer?" Yeonjun asks.

"It's fuchsia, actually. And yes, it was," you nod, making both of them laugh. 

Your exchange with Yeonjun is cut short when he hears Wooyoung calling him from the other room. 

"I'll catch you guys later. Good seeing you, Mark," Yeonjun nods at Mark as he leaves, Mark doing the same.

"So, let me get this straight; you raced me in a car you already won from Yeonjun, trying to win mine," Mark crosses his arms.

"First, you offered up your car. Second, I've never had a Mitsubishi," You say.

"Good thing I won then," he laughs, and you shoot him a death glare. "Thought there were no hard feelings," he responds to your expression.

"Don't start poking the bear, Lee."

[3:37 AM]

You and Mark barely separated from one another all night, the two of you now sitting in the backyard, still smoking the joint Jaemin left for you two to finish.

"You okay over there?" Mark's voice breaks the peaceful silence and brings you back to reality. You look over at Mark, and your face splits into a smile before you burst into laughter.

"What?" Mark starts laughing along with you.

"Nothing. Sorry I'm just.." you couldn't find the words to even describe what's going on in your head right now, "incredibly high," you sigh.

Mark continues laughing with you, soothing the embarrassment you feel prick up your spine. 

"I missed this. And I missed you," Mark says.

"Me too," you smile, "All I could think about the whole night was how much it felt like the first time we met."

"Oh, you mean the same night Johnny almost got bagged?" Mark starts laughing uncontrollably as the memory comes back.

"Yes," you begin laughing as well.

"Do you remember the panic on his face when he was running," he manages to say between gasps for air. 

"I've never seen Johnny so scared," you say, your lungs begging for oxygen as you continue to laugh.

"I heard my name, you two talking about me?" Johnny steps out onto the deck.

"Yeah, and that first meet I went to when I saved your ass from the cops," you say.

Johnny scoffed, "What are you talking about?"

"Dude, how could you not remember?" Mark asks, "It was right after you raced Changkyun and you were busy talking to Yves and Jun when the cops showed up." he says.

"But good thing you left the keys in the car and since Mark was too busy freaking out, someone had to do something," you add.

"Alright, I was not freaking out," Mark says.

"It was a mild freak out," you say to him.

"Huh," Johnny nods, looking as if he's going through the archives of his memory, "I very vaguely remember that happening," Johnny says as he lights another joint.

"Maybe if you didn't smoke so much you'd remember," you mutter, sipping your water.

"I know you're not talking," Johnny pointed at you with the spliff between his lips.

"Sungchan's passed out on the front lawn," Haechan comes outside to tell Johnny.

"Okay, find Jeno or Jae and move him upstairs," Johnny says.

"Jeno already left and no one's seen Jaehyun in a while," Haechan says.

"Shit," Johnny sighs, taking a drag, "Mark, come on," he hits Mark's shoulder.

"Now how'd I get dragged into this?" Mark asks.

"Man, just come help us get him upstairs," Johnny tells Mark. With an annoyed grumble, Mark gets up, and you laugh as Mark follows the other two back into the house.

You only went back inside to refill your cup with more water when you bumped into Yeonjun again.

"Hey, you're still here." Yeonjun says.

"Yeah," you answer with a lazy smile.

He laughs at your hazy state, "You good?"

"I'm great," you reply.

Yeonjun smiles, "Well we're about to head out. Do you need a ride home?"

You only had two choices; either walk home or crash here at Johnny's. But now Yeonjun's presenting you with this third choice, and it definitely is tempting.

But Mark.

"I'm good," you nod.

"Okay, I'll see you later."

"I'll see you," you wave as Yeonjun runs off to catch up with the rest of his friends, getting into Hwiyoung's car.

This is when you finally notice how much things have calmed down. The cars lining the streets were no longer taking up the whole block. Now, the house was cleared out of mostly everyone, save for the ones who were crashing there for the night. 

"Are you heading out?" Mark asks, coming down the stairs.

"I mean, I probably should. I'm exhausted and I've got to rest up for this big date we have tomorrow," you say.

"You're not driving, right?"

"Of course not. I'm not too far."

"I'll take you."

"Mark, you are not driving either," you say, knowing he's also been drinking and smoking.

"I know. I'm walking you," Mark says, "Let me go grab my phone," he brushes past you and back out to the backyard.

"Hey," you heard from someone else coming down the stairs.

You furrow your brows at your roommate, "You're actually still here? Where have you been all night?" You ask Nyla.

"You know…around," she answered.

It was then you noticed Nyla wearing a shirt she didn't leave the house in, but you don't say anything about it at the moment.

"You ready to go?" Mark asks you.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Nyla asks.

"Yup," you answer.

"Do you want me to go with you?" she asks.

"Do you want to go with me?" you ask her.

Before she can answer, Jaehyun comes down the stairs buttoning up a shirt he wasn't wearing before, smirking at your best friend as he walks past to the kitchen.

Nyla looked internally conflicted, so you made the decision for her. "You can stay. Mark's gonna walk me home."

"Mark, you're an angel," Nyla grabs his face. "I love you. Text me when you're home," she says to you, kissing your cheek.

"You better be using protection. I'm too young to be an auntie," you say sternly to her.

"You'd be one hot auntie, though," she winks over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

"You sure would be," Mark mumbles as he leans against the doorframe.

"Mark, don't start with me," you glare at him as you walk out of the house.

"What do you mean?" he asks, following you.

"The Mark Lee I knew couldn't flirt to save his life. But now, you keep saying things like that and with you looking like this," you sighed, "It makes things confusing."

"How?" he asks.

"Cause you're Mark."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

You don't know how you're supposed to answer him. "I'm not telling you."

"Well, do you want me to stop?"

You took a second to answer, "No."

For a few minutes, you only walked in comfortable silence before you broke it. "So how long are you staying?" you ask.

"Don't know yet. My brother's wedding is next month so I came back to help with preparations and stuff. But I don't know, might stick around for a while after."

You gasp, "Oh my god, your brother's getting married?? No fucking way, congrats to him."

"Thanks, I'll pass it along," he smiled.

"I bet your mom's excited."

"Yeah, and fortunately for me, it's got her too preoccupied to be any way worried about my dating life," he says. "She still asks me about you, you know. Says she misses you."

"Aw, I miss her too," you pout.

Okay, so maybe you downplayed how close you really were.

From the moment you met, it didn't take much for you to become friends. Once you had realized you went to the same school and were even in some of the same classes, you grew close. Mark introduced you to all his friends, who then became your friends and vice versa. Any time he got word of a meet happening, you were always the first person he texted, saying he was already on his way to come get you. Mark would walk with you after school to your father's garage and let you teach him a few things about fixing up and modifying cars. Your families were both fond of the relationship the two of you had; Mark's inviting you to dinner almost every week, and yours never minding having Mark over for breakfast Saturday mornings.

As you turned down your street, you were then reminded of Mark's last night here. After his going away party, he walked you home just like this for the last time before he left.

"I've missed you too, Mark. Really," you tell him once you reach your house.

You hug him, and he wraps his arms around you. Hugging him now is much different than the last time you had. You had cried into his shirt, squeezing him so tight you didn't want to let him go. And a part of you wished you didn't. But at least letting go this time doesn't hurt as much as it did the last.

"Goodnight, Mark."

"Goodnight," he says.

"I'll be seeing you," you say, making your way up to the door.

"You'll be seeing me," he reassures, waiting for you to enter your house before walking back to Johnny's.

[5:43 PM] SATURDAY

"Can I get a time check?" you ask.

"Almost quarter to 6," Summer answers.

You started cursing under your breath, rushing to apply your mascara.

"Wow, I've never seen you like this?" Nyla says.

"Like what?" you ask, never taking your eyes away from the mirror.

"Nervous to go on a date with a boy," she says teasingly.

"First, I'm not nervous," you point the mascara wand at her, "Second, he's not just some boy," you turn back to your reflection.

You heard your phone vibrate with a notification and looked at the text from Mark.

[5:49 PM] mark:  omw to come get you 

Fuck. And you weren't even dressed yet.

"Shit—okay, maybe I am a little nervous," you left your vanity and threw off your robe to slip into your dress.

"You really like him, don't you?" Nyla asks.

"You don't know the half of it," Summer interjects.

"What is that supposed to mean?" you ask, struggling to zip your dress.

"Bitch, are you for real right now?" Summer deadpans, helping you with the dress, "You were so unbelievably head over heels for him in high school."

"I was not," you defended.

"You and Mark seem to be the only ones who didn't know that," she zips you up.

You couldn't think of anything to say to that, but thankfully you didn't have to anymore once your phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"I'm outside," Mark's voice filters through the speaker.

"Fuck," you mutter, "Okay, sorry, I'm almost ready," you tell him.

"No worries, I'll still be here."

You hung up and ran around your room, looking through your closet and frantically throwing things out of the way to find your shoes. 

"I literally just saw them. Where the fuck are they?" you say to yourself.

"You mean these?" Nyla pulls the heels from under your bed.

"Thank you," you grab the shoes and slip them on.

"Damn, you look real good," Summer compliments as you finish putting on your jewelry.

"Do I really?" you ask, making sure your hair is sitting just how you want it.

"Hell yeah," Nyla agreed.

"Okay," you take a deep breath, smoothing out the silk draped over your body before leaving your room.

"Have fun!" Nyla yelled after you.

You step out of your house to find Mark leaning against a black Porsche you recognize as one of Jaehyun's instead of his signature red Mitsubishi Evolution. You would be disappointed if he didn't look so good standing next to the car.

Mark pushed himself away from the car when he saw you coming down the steps, completely in awe. Meanwhile, you were just focused on not tripping and stumbling down onto your face.

"Hi," you walk up to him. 

"Hi," he seemed speechless, "You look…shit. I mean, not like that—You just look beautiful."

"Thank you, Mark," you grin, "You're looking pretty fine yourself."

"You know, I try," he smooths out his jacket, "Shall we?" he opens the passenger door for you.

You smile as you step toward the car, Mark taking your hand, helping you in before closing the door and rushing over to the driver's side.

Once you've clicked yourself in with the seatbelt, you look up to see Mark staring at you. "What?"

"Nothing," he clears his throat, pulling off.

You tried not to get too lost in looking at Mark, staring out the window instead, trying to figure out where he was taking you. But then you feel his hand brush against yours when he reaches for the gear lever. You couldn't help it, letting your eyes wander over to him. Curtains of blonde hair hung slightly over his eyes as they were focused on the road. Your eyes drift down to the material perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, taking note of the color he chose to wear, a deep shade of blue, one of your favorite colors.

"We're here," Marks says, and you snap out of it, looking around to see where he's brought you. Mark exits the car first and comes to open your door for you.

"Mark, you didn't."

"I did," Mark smiled, "Put this on," he handed you a lanyard reading VIP.

"Where the fuck did you get these?" you ask.

He ignores your question and holds his hand out for you instead, "Come on."

You slide your hand into his and follow him toward the entrance.

As Mark leads you to your seats, you realize you're not in the packed sections with the rest of the screaming fans. But instead where most executives, family members of racers, and people with enough money to buy their way into this section were. Your eyes were as wide as continental tires as you sat down. 

"Mark…" now it was your turn to be speechless.

"Does this meet your expectations?" he asks as you look around in awe.

"No," you say, "Definitely surpassed them."

The crowd erupted into cheers as the drivers walked out to their cars.

"Oh my god," you gasp, "It's him."

Kim Jongin, or as he's famously known, Kai, walks out. He brightly smiles at the fans screaming his name and waves into the audience. You're too starstruck to move. And even think your heart has stopped beating when Kai looks in your direction.

"Mark! You made it," Kai walks over to you and Mark.

"Told you I would, man," Mark greets Kai, "I also said I would introduce you to one of the best street racers I know."

Kai looks at you, his smile never faltering as he extends his hand to shake yours.

"Holy shit," is all you can say as you shake his hand, "I'm like a huge fan," you tell Kai.

"So I've been told. I've also heard you put up some serious game out on the track," Kai says before one of his crew members calls him to his car. "I gotta run, but how about you guys stick around after the race and come down to the pit."

You're certain your jaw's already on the floor, in complete disbelief that this is happening right now.

"Yeah, for sure," Mark says.

Kai waves at you one last time before running off to the track, putting on his helmet, and jumping into his car. Once you were out of your trance, you hit Mark's arm.

"Ow!" Mark rubbed his bicep.

"Since when the fuck do you know Kai?" you ask.

"Since Kevin was just getting into the NIRA circuit. I went to one of the digs with him and that was where I met Kai."

You've been following Kai's career practically since it started back when you were a high school freshman. You probably even watched the exact meet Mark was talking about. 

"And you've just been sitting on this piece of information, waiting for what to tell me?"

"For this." Mark answers.

"I can't believe you," you mutter, turning away from him. 

[8:32 PM] 

As Kai tended to the post-race press, you and Mark waited for the first-place winner in the pit. You were busy drooling over what was under the hood of Kai's car while Mark conversed with Shohei, a pit crew member.

"So what do you think?" Kai reappears, asking you.

"I think if I was out there on the track, I'd have a reason to be scared," you say, "An FR9 engine, a nos wet fogger system, and forged pistons," you only list off the components you can see from just taking one look, impressing the racer.

"You really do know your shit," Kai smiles, "I like her," he says to Mark.

"Yeah, me too," Mark smiled at you.

"Wanna take her for a lap?" Kai asks you.

"Me?" you point to yourself, "In this?" then to the car.

"Why not?" Kai shrugs, handing you a helmet.

"She isn't exactly dressed for-" another crew member, Eunseok, started.

But you kick off your heels and grab the helmet, making sure your dress doesn't hike up your legs too high as you slide through the window to get into the race car.

"Man, she's got this," Mark reassures Eunseok as Kai gets in the car with you.

"You good in there?" you hear Mark's voice from inside the helmet.

"You know I'm more than good," you reply.

"And don't I know that for damn sure," you hear the smirk in his voice, "But I've talked you up to pretty much everyone here, so don't embarrass me," he says light-heartedly.

Your barefoot steps on the gas and a smile splits your face as you burn out the tires before accelerating. The wind whipped against your skin as you picked up speed. You felt like you were flying as Kai hysterically egged you on from the passenger seat.

Mark could hear your laughter through the com piece in your helmet, telling you're having the time of your life with the way you round the track. The car roared around the corners, and you felt the G-forces pushing you back into the seat. At the end of the lap, you pulled the car back into the pit, taking the helmet off to catch your breath.

"Now that's what I call driving!" Kai exclaimed as he got out of the car from the passenger side window.

You pulled yourself out of the seat and exited through the window. Mark was right there to help you even though he knew you didn't really need his assistance. You feel Mark's arm around your waist, the other the under your thighs, helping you out of the vehicle and letting you hold onto him to put your shoes back on.

"Between that and everything else I've been told, you better hold onto her, Mark."

"I don't think there's any other choice. She's stuck with me," Mark grabs your hand, "We should probably start leaving now before we're late." Mark says to you, looking at his watch.

"It was good seeing you again, and it truly was an honor to meet you," Kai bowed as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles.

"The honor was all mine. And you know, if you ever need a tune-up, or tires changed or even a buff, my garage always has its door opened for you," you smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," Kai nods with a smile.

"What are we even getting paid for, then?" Seunghan raised his arms.

Once back in the car, Mark weaved through the traffic of spectators leaving the stadium to get on the highway. You didn't notice Mark still holding your hand, only driving with one hand so his fingers could stay intertwined with yours until you reached the restaurant.

[9:41 PM]

"It was just so crazy. To feel that much power in the grips of my hands." you continued. You couldn't help but talk through the entirety of dinner, recounting the events of the night; Mark not minding one bit.

Mark slides his hand closer to yours across the table, taking your hand in his.

You trail off, suddenly losing focus while looking at Mark. Even in the dim candlelight of the restaurant, you can see how Mark's eyes hold the stars as he looks at you.

"You don't have to stop," Mark says, "I like listening to you," he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"And I just like looking at you," you say, "Still think I'm going to wake up from this dream at any moment."

"You dream about me often?" Mark asks teasingly, leaning on the table.

"Oh, Markie," you lean closer too, "You really don't know the half of it, huh?"

"Why don't you tell me then?" Mark says, his eyes falling down to your lips.

"I'd rather show you," you say before kissing him.

You were never one to really be for public displays of affection, but with Mark, here and now, it just felt right.

"I've wanted to do that ever since sophomore year," you tell him once you pull away.

"Deadass?" Mark asks, raising his brows.

You laugh at his stunned expression, "Deadass, Mark."

"So Renjun was right," he mumbles to himself.

"About what?"

"You having a crush on me in high school."

"Seems like you were the only one who didn't know," you shrug.

"Well, don't act like you didn't know I had one on you too," Mark says, and your brows raise, "Wait, really? You didn't know?" he asks.

"Of course, I didn't Mark. How was I supposed to?"

"I don't know. But I mean, it was pretty obvious," Mark says, and you scoff.

You could pretty much say the same to him. 

"God, I'm such an idiot," Mark shakes his head, and you laugh, squeezing his hand. 

"My idiot," you kiss him again.

[11:56 PM]

With the night coming to an end, you feel a slight pang of sorrow as Mark nears your house.

Mark's hand holding yours, squeezes lightly, bringing you out of your thoughts once he's parked on your street. He kissed the back of your hand before exiting the car, opening your door, and helping you out. 

You slide his jacket off your shoulders and hand it back to Mark for him to toss into the backseat.

"So," Mark starts.

"So," you take a step closer to him.

"You can truthfully tell me if it really was the worst date of your life," he said with a smile.

You roll your eyes, "Maybe it wasn't."

"Damn, it does feel good being right."

"The night isn't over. There's still time for my answer to change."

"How much time?"

You look at your phone, "Two minutes and 30 seconds."

Mark was the one to initiate the kiss this time. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against his body. You allow Mark's tongue to slip into your mouth, and he hums at the taste of your lipgloss mixed with the wine you drank. Mark pulls away so you can both catch your breath, and you rest your forehead against his.

"Well?"

"Well, this has officially been the best date I've been on," you smile.

He lifts your chin, getting you to look at him, and kisses you one last time.

"Goodnight," he says.

"Goodnight, Mark," you begin to walk up your front steps.

"Wait," Mark stops you, "This isn't gonna be a one time thing is it?"

"Do you want it to be?" you ask.

"No."

"Okay. You'll be seeing me, Mark."

"I'm counting on it."

Walking up to your door, you see the movement of the curtains in the window and shake your head as you put in your key. As expected, the moment you enter your house, you're met with Nyla and Summer waiting for you.

"Date must've gone well," Summer says.

"What makes you say so?" you ask.

"That was pretty intense between you two out on the steps, and you're still grinning like an idiot," Nyla tells you.

"I am not," you deny with said grin still plastered on your face.

[1:34 PM] MONDAY

Mark steps onto the front porch, joining the rest who were outside. He finds you among them in Johnny's driveway, working on Jungwoo's car.

"Whatcha doing?" Mark asks, approaching you.

"Jungwoo says it doesn't sound right so I'm trying to adjust the cylinders and change the air pressure intake," you say.

You might as well have been wearing an expensive white dress and standing at an altar with the way Mark's looking at you. Mark watches as you carefully maneuver your way around the engine, sure not to interfere with anything valuable.

"Try that," you tell Jungwoo, who was sitting behind the wheel.

Jungwoo started his car and revved up the engine a few times, the loud roar sounding like music to your ears. You smile, satisfied, and close the hood of the car.

"You are an angel, you know that," Jungwoo says, appreciatively kissing your cheek before wandering off.

"Yeah, I know," you smile, turning to Mark, "Hi."

"Hi." you notice Mark lick his lips as he eyes you.

"What?"

"Nothing. That was just kinda hot," Mark tells you.

"Yeah? All this sweat and grease really doing it for you?" you joke, wiping your hands with a rag.

"You're definitely doing it for me," Mark says, pulling you toward him by your waist.

Mark kisses you, and you practically melt against his lips. You have to fight the urge to run your fingers through his hair, waiting until you properly wash your hands. You circle your arms around his neck instead, but things don't get too heated as your phone starts ringing.

"You mind?" you ask Mark. He hands you your phone, and you step away to take the call. 

"Everything okay?" Mark asks as you return to him.

"Yeah," you tell him before turning to everyone in the front yard, "So, how many of you love me enough to come swing by the garage with me?" you sweetly smile at your friends.

You aren't given a direct answer, but they all move from their spots and start getting into their cars, Mark following you to yours and riding with you.

. . .

You knew signing for the delivery wouldn't have taken long, but no one seemed to be in a rush to leave as they all busied themselves around the autobody shop. 

"Damn I really have missed this place," Mark says, looking around with a soft smile. 

"You know you've been equally missed," you tell him.

"Say it ain't so. Mark Lee, is that you?" you hear your dad's voice behind you.

"Yes, sir," Mark extends his arm to shake your dad's hand.

You try to continue focusing on the paperwork in front of you as the two exchange small talk before your dad mentions having Mark over for dinner.

"Oh, I couldn't impose-" Mark started.

"It wasn't imposing before, and it still isn't now," your dad says, "Your mom would love to have him over for dinner," he says to you.

"She would," you agree.

"Great, come over next Wednesday," he tells Mark before Soojin pulls your dad away to deal with a customer.

"Come with me," you round the desk and take Mark's hand. 

Mark follows your lead through the shop as you take him to where some of your friends congregated around Shotaro's station. 

"Hey, Taro. You busy?" you ask, getting his attention.

"Not really," Shotaro says. 

"Mark, this is Shotaro. Shotaro, this is Mark." you introduce them.

The Sagittarius' eyes widen as he extends his hand to Mark, "Holy shit, I've seen you race. You're like a god."

"Wow, thank-" Mark begins.

"Alright, I wouldn't say all that," you say.

"Have you seen him drive?" Shotaro asks.

"Of course, he's the only person that can keep up with me. But he usually never beats me over that line," you say with half a smirk.

Shotaro's brows furrow, "Wait, you race?"

Having only been working here a few months, you don't blame Shotaro for not knowing.

"I don't as much as I used to," you say.

"This isn't the first time I've heard this. Why is that?" Mark asks.

You shrug. "I don't know. I guess between school and helping manage this place I kinda lost my enthusiasm about it," you look down at the spare tire on the ground, softly kicking it, suddenly feeling everyone's eyes on you, "And it kinda just wasn't the same without you."

Mark looks as if he's endeared by what you've said. But you clear your throat and quickly change the subject.

"But anyway, how did the dry system hold up?" You ask Shotaro.

"Pretty good. Better than my last one," Shotaro tells you, lifting the hood of his car.

"Holy shit, where did you find these parts?" Mark asks as a few of you gather around the automobile. 

"Only knew one place to find them. So I had them imported from Yokohama," Shotaro says.

"Shotaro, you're definitely riding with us to race wars," Hendery says. 

"You guys are going too?" Shotaro asks.

"Yeah. Actually, speaking of, how many of us are going to race wars?" Jaehyun asks.

You and Mark used to talk about going to race wars all the time but never got the chance to when you were in high school because your parents would never let you. And by the time you were able to go, Mark wasn't there to be with you, so it just didn't have the same feeling without him.

"Pretty sure all of us here. Probably the rest of the others, too," Jeno says.

"Mark, you're coming?" Jisung asks.

"When is it?" Mark asks.

"It's supposed to be the beginning of next month, but the exact date and location haven't been posted yet. I'll let you know once I find out," Jaemin says.

"Okay," Mark nods, "As long as it doesn't interfere with my brother's wedding, I'll go."

"You could always not go?" Chenle jokes.

"Dude, he's my brother, and I'm the best man."

Everyone now turns their attention to Mark.

"What the fuck? Since when?" Ten asks.

"Since I found out my brother was engaged," Mark answers.

"So you just don't tell anyone shit around here anymore?" you joke.

Mark playfully rolls his eyes, poking his cheek with his tongue.

God, why is he so hot. 

You curl your arms around his, "Mark, you have to come. We've always wanted to go together," you pout.

"I know, I know," Mark holds your hand, "If I can, I will. I promise."

That was good enough for you for now.

"Okay."

[6:50 PM] THURSDAY

"Hello?" you answer the phone.

"You still at the garage?" Mark asks.

"Yeah, but I'm about to leave in a few minutes."

"Wanna come over to my place? Watch a movie and maybe drink this bottle of wine I have sitting in front of me."

"I'll need to go home and shower first. I'm all sweaty and greasy," you say.

"I don't really mind. Sweat, grease, and all."

"Well, I do. So I'll be over in an hour."

Mark kisses his teeth, "Fine."

[8:02 PM] 

Pulling up to Mark's house, you don't know why you expected it to be any different than how you remember it. But it was the same color and layout and even still had the dent in the garage door from when Yuta accidentally backed into it.

Mark answers the door wearing an old t-shirt, shorts, and glasses. Those goddamn glasses. 

"Hi," Mark smiles at you.

"Hi," you step into the house, allowing Mark to pull you in for a kiss. "You miss me or something?" you ask.

"Guess you can say that."

Slipping off your shoes and jacket, you follow Mark into the living room.

"Your parents here?" you ask.

"Nah, they went with my brother to meet the future in-laws," Mark answers. "You want a glass?" he points to the wine bottle sitting on the table.

"Yes, please," you sigh, collapsing onto the couch.

"Long day?"

"Yeah, but it's nothing I'm not used to." you take the wineglass he hands you.

Mark listens to you go on about your day after he asks, only briefly interrupted when he goes to answer the door for the delivery of the food you didn't even know he ordered. After eating your fill of pizza, you continue to watch the movie. You notice how much closer you are now than when you first arrived. You went from sitting right next to Mark to being seated between his legs, your back against his chest.

"Now, I gotta ask, who's your favorite?"

"Spider-man? Garfield for sure. I love the other two but The Amazing Spider-Man has a special place in my heart," you hold your hand over your chest.

"You were supposed to say me," Mark grumbles, rolling his eyes.

You laugh, turning to him, "Mark, you only dressed up once senior year, and that's cause you lost a bet."

"But you can't say I don't make a good Peter Parker," he says.

"Only if I can be your MJ," you joke.

Mark closes the space between you, softly pressing his lips to yours. Having seen No Way Home enough times opening weekend, you didn't mind Mark distracting you from the rest of the movie. You reposition yourself to straddle him and bring your lips back to his. The hands Mark has on your hips move down to cup your ass. Then you start laughing.

"Sorry, did I overstep?" Mark asks, moving his hands away.

"No, you didn't. It's just..nothing, sorry," you apologize. 

You start kissing him, cupping his face before you feel his two hands on your ass again, unable to stop the giggles bubbling in your throat.

"What?" Mark can't help but laugh now. 

"I'm sorry. I just can't stop thinking about your hands on my ass."

"What's so funny about that?" he asks.

"Nothing. It's just, I can't believe my best friend, Mark Lee, is kissing me with his hands on my ass," you cover your eyes, trying to explain. You shake your head, trying not to overthink this too much. "I swear I'm not laughing at you. I'm just nervous, I guess."

"What for?"

"Because it's you," you say, peaking at him through your fingers.

"I make you that nervous, baby?" Mark pulls your hands away from your face with a crooked smile. 

Is he trying to make you spontaneously combust?? 

"Maybe," you answer.

"Think I can do something to change that," he says, "Come here," he juts his chin toward you, signaling you to kiss him.

You let all thoughts fade away as you leaned into Mark. You grab the sides of his face, pressing your lips to him.

Mark keeps his hands off you until he can practically feel the desperation in your body, letting your hands roam all over him.

Feeling Mark's hands slide up your thighs to your ass made you softly moan into his mouth as he pressed you into his groin.

"Mark…" you breathe shakily.

"You need something?"

"Yeah, you."

You could hear your heart banging against your chest like a drum as you followed Mark up the stairs to his room, your hand in his.

Entering his room, you can see it hasn't changed much either. The same posters are still on the walls, his guitar sitting in its designated corner by his bed, and the small piles of clothes scattered over the floor. You didn't have the chance to get a good look at much else as Mark's lips were back on yours once he closed the door.

The backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed before you fall down onto it. Mark looks down at you lying on his bed, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips, taking his glasses off, and tossing them onto the bed. Mark grabs one of your legs, making space between them for himself, bringing his lips back to yours. Once he starts kissing your neck, you know you're already done for. 

"Mark, please," you arch into his touch.

"What, baby?"

"Touch me."

"I am touching you," he smirks, nipping at your jaw.

"God, since when were you such a fucking tease," you say, making him laugh.

"You mean here?" he asks, cupping your sex.

"Mhm," you tug your teeth between your teeth, nodding.

Mark looks into your eyes as he undoes the string of your sweatpants, making sure this is okay. When you don't tell him to stop, Mark slips his hand into your pants, pressing his fingers to the damp cotton, still acting as a barrier, keeping you from what you want.

"You this wet for me, princess?"

You shutter at his use of the pet name, "Yes."

"Mmm," he hums, watching your body react to the smallest of his touches. Mark then pulls your underwear to the side and teases your silt with his middle finger. Your jaw drops, silently moaning when you feel one of his fingers breach your walls. 

"Damn, baby, you're soaking for me," Mark smirks against your navel, moving your shirt out of his way as he kisses his way up your stomach.

"Mark, don't say things like that," you whine.

"Why?"

"Cause it's turning me on even more," you roll your hips into his hand.

"That doesn't sound like a reason to stop to me," he stopped kissing your skin once he reached your sternum, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Good. I'm only getting started," Mark pulls his hand away.

Before you could even protest, Mark's tugging your sweats down your legs, your panties along with them, getting you to lift your hips so he could throw them to the floor. You watch Mark lower himself to his knees on the floor before the bed, directing each of your legs over his shoulders. He softly kisses your inner thighs, nipping your sensitive skin between his teeth.

Mark pulls you closer to his face, looking up at you with eyes blown wide with lust. You try to keep your composure when Mark's tongue licks a fat stripe up your slit. Mark moans at the taste of you, and holds your legs apart as he buries his head between your thighs. Your small whimpers gradually grow into cries of Mark's name as he brings his fingers back to your core, slowly sinking two digits into your pussy.

"Fuck, that feels so good," you comb your fingers through his hair as he catches your clit between his lips.

Your back arches into the air, and you tug harshly on his roots, making him groan into your pussy. Mark's middle and ring finger curl against your velvety walls, moving in a come hither motion once he finds your sweet spot. Between the movements of his head and his fingers pumping in and out of you, you can feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

"Mark.." you sharply moan, "P-Please, don't stop," you beg.

Mark could feel his shorts growing uncomfortably tight the more he heard you moan and felt your pussy flutter around his fingers.

"You wanna cum for me, pretty girl?"

"Yes, Mark, please."

If your eyes didn't flutter shut, you would've caught the smirk on his face before he attacked your clit with his tongue.

At this point, you're no longer able to form full sentences. Mark's mouth makes you lose your senses and every coherent thought you have.

Mark's fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, keeping you from squirming too much as he eats you out like a man feasting after days of starving. 

"Oh my god!" your eyes roll back, "M'gonna cum," you warn through a whimper.

Mark never let up. The pace of his fingers picking up and his tongue flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves had your toes curling. Your legs closed around his head once your orgasm hit you. Your cries and trembling legs went unnoticed by Mark as he was too enamored with the feeling and taste of you in his mouth.

"Mark, Mark, Mark," you whine, softly pushing his head away.

You open your eyes to find Mark with his fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off them. Even through your fatigue, seeing him with messy hair from you pulling on it and his face glistening with your juices reignited your insatiable desire for him.

"You okay?"

"Okay? Am I okay?" you raise a brow, "Mark, I can't remember the last time someone made me cum like that from just going down on me," you throw your arm over your eyes, still coming down from your high.

"I'm glad to be of service, then," he moves your arm away, kissing you.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning around his tongue when it clashes with your own, tasting yourself on his lips.

You flip Mark onto the bed without breaking the kiss, and he rests his hands on your thighs, roughly kneading your flesh. You hum, feeling his hard clothed cock resting between your folds, Mark grabbing your ass to get you to roll your hips into his, letting a sound that closely resembles a whine climb up his throat.

Mark chases after your lips when you pull away, opening his eyes to see you admiring him.

"You're so pretty, Mark," you say, softly brushing his hair out of his eyes, and you swear you heard a whimper slip from his swollen lips.

Mark blushes, turning away from you so you don't notice. But you do. You grab his jaw, making him look at you, and pull him close enough, your lips to ghost over his.

"My pretty boy," you kiss his lips.

His cock stirs beneath you as you kiss your way down his neck. You tug on the collar of his shirt, getting Mark to pull it over his head, throwing it to the floor next to your clothes. You run your hand down his toned chest, a light trail of hair on his lower stomach disappearing into his shorts.

"Can I?" you ask, hooking your finger in the waistband of his shorts.

"Yeah," Mark nods.

Once his pants are off, you're both left in only one piece of clothing; his boxers and your shirt.

You kneel between his legs while Mark sits back on his hands, just watching you. Resting your hand on his leg, you softly squeeze his thigh before slowly sliding over to the bulge in his underwear. Palming the outline of his heavy cock has Mark tilting his head back, but not too much so he can still watch you as you waste no more time and release his dick from its confinements.

Your eyes widen, and the corners of your lips twitch, seeing his cock spring free, lightly slapping against his lower stomach. Precum dribbles from his slit and your mouth practically waters. You wrap your fingers around his length, smearing the beads of precum with your thumb. His cock twitches in your grasp, a raspy groan falling from his lips and shooting straight to your core.

"Mark, please tell me you have a condom somewhere in this house," you look at him through your lashes.

"Second drawer," he nods to his nightstand.

"Were you stocking up for this?" you ask, finding the industrial-sized box.

"No," Mark laughs, "Donghyuck 'gifted' that to me after our first date."

"Now, why would he do that?" you ask, straddling his thigh.

You already know your friend can have a perverted way of thinking, but you wanted to hear Mark's reasoning.

"Cause I couldn't stop talking about you in that fucking dress," he grips your waist, "Let's just say it was a lot harder to keep my gentlemanly manners than I thought it would be that night."

"As much as I appreciated the consideration," you say, "I wore that dress hoping you would've taken it off me," you lean into his ear.

"Fuck me," Mark groans under his breath and digs his fingers into your hips.

You grin, kissing him. Since you're distracted, Mark snatches the condom from your hand and pushes you onto your back. He sits back on his haunches, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and tears the package with his teeth before rolling the latex on and pumping his cock in his hands a few times.

Laying there with your hair splayed out on the pillows, your bottom lip between your teeth, and your thighs desperately itching to rub together at the sight of the man before you, Mark slowly begins losing his grip on any sort of restraint he has left. Mark wraps his arms under your thighs, pulling your hips closer to his. You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second as Mark keeps his eyes locked with yours, rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds. 

"Mark, please," your voice was barely above a whisper, yet Mark still heard the traces of desperation. 

The blunt head of his cock presses against your slit before being enveloped by your slick pussy. He takes his time easing into you as your walls open up for him.

"Oh, god—Mark," you choke out, feeling the way you have to adjust to his size.

"I know, I know, baby," Mark coos, "It's okay. Just relax for me," he soothed his hand up and down your leg.

You nod, and Mark starts kissing your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back to give him more access to mark up the side of your throat. As Mark sinks his teeth into your skin and can feel how incredibly wet you become, your pussy practically sucking him the rest of the way in.

"How're you doing, princess?" Mark kisses his way back up your neck. 

"Fuck, Mark, you feel so big," you roll your head back onto his pillow. Mark smiles, peppering your face with kisses while whispering sweet praises. 

"Let's just take it slow then, okay," he says, slowly drawing his hips back.

The feeling of his cock dragging against your walls as he slowly left your heat, only to fill you up again, had your eyes rolling back. 

"I feel so…you make me feel so—Full," you stumble over your words, moaning. 

The chuckle that leaves his lips leads a new wave of arousal to flood through your body and clench around him.

"And you're doing so good for me," he kisses your jaw. Mark continues slowly moving his hips, using deep sensual strokes to fuck you. Now fully submerged in pleasure, you beg Mark for more.

Mark grabs your leg hooked around his hip and begins picking up his rhythm. Bringing his eyes down to where your bodies were connected, he watches his dick disappear between your folds. Mark's shallow pants slowly transition into broken whimpers. You're just barely holding on, and Mark continues coaxing you closer to the edge.

"You're making me feel so good, Mark," you tell him.

Mark tries to conceal his noises, burying his head in your neck, but you disapprove. 

"Come on, Markie," you direct his face to look at you, "I wanna hear you, pretty boy," you grin, running your thumb along his bottom lip.

"Fuck~" he whines.

"Don't stop, baby, m'so close," you say.

"M-Me too—fuck, you feel so good," his voice fluctuates.

"S'all for you, pretty boy," you tell him, and you almost cum from his whimpers alone.

"God, stop calling me that," Mark pants, screwing his eyes shut.

"Why?" you smirk, bringing your fingers beneath his chin to make him look at you.

Damp strands of blonde hair hung in his face as he opened his lust-filled eyes, "I won't be able to last any longer," he answers.

"You gonna cum for me, Mark?" you roll your hips into his, making him deeply groan.

Mark holds your jaw with one hand, keeping intimate eye contact as he repeatedly thrusts into you. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip before pushing his finger into your mouth, and you eagerly accept.

"Not until you cum for me first," he says, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and bringing it to your clit.

"Oh—fuck, Mark, please," you cry.

Mark lowers himself to kiss you, muffling both of your sweet noises.

You frantically search for something to grab onto, finding Mark's shoulders first as you cum. Your pussy clamps around his cock, sending Mark into his own orgasm. Soft, breathy moans fill your ears as Mark's hips stutter, and he fills the condom with his cum.

"Holy shit," he drops his head to your shoulder.

You softly run your fingers through the strands of his sweaty hair as he kisses your damp skin. Pressing his lips to the side of your neck, Mark finds your lips meeting in a lazy kiss.

"Wait here," he tells you, the huskiness of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You whimper as he slips his cock out of the pulsating warmth of your pussy, leaving you clenching around nothing.

After tossing the condom into the trash and slipping his boxers back on, you watch Mark shuffle out of the room. He returns with a wet cloth, pulling your legs apart and wiping away the stickiness clinging to your folds.

"Are you okay?" Mark asks. 

"Yeah."

"You're very quiet," he lays down next to you. 

"I'm thinking," you say, turning in his direction. 

"About?"

"You," you answer, "There's no going back after this, Mark."

"Are you okay with that?"

"Am I?" you smile, "I'm not saying that cause I regret this, Mark. I'm saying this as a warning cause it'll be harder for you to get rid of me now," you wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek. 

Mark laughs, resting his hands on your lower back. "I can't image I would ever want to anyway," he kisses you.

[9:43 PM] SATURDAY 

"No one even knew Yuta was back in town until today, how did so many people find out?" Summer says as your car nears the entrance to the parking garage.

It had taken you nearly ten minutes to move up in the line of cars that had formed. You're just glad you got here when you did, considering that the line was now streaming down the street.

Since Yuta had sent out the location at practically the last minute, you weren't expecting the dig to have this big of a turnout. You don't even know how Yuta set it up, but since the renovations to the parking garage weren't nearly finished yet, it was closed off from the rest of the public. Which meant for you, it was the perfect place for races to be conducted without having to worry about any civilians.

You finally reach the barrier gate where Yunho and Changbin are standing post.

"Hey, Sunny," Changbin says to Summer.

"Hi, Binnie," she sweetly smiles as she hands him the money for the entry fee, "I'll see you in there?" she asks.

"Yeah," Changbin smiles, "You're good to go, y/n." he nods to you.

"Okay, what the fuck was that?" Nyla asks Summer as you start following the cars down to the underground level.

"What?" Summer asks.

"You and Binnie?" You raise your brows, "When did that start?"

"It's nothing. We're just friends."

You and Nyla share a glance in your rearview mirror. "Sure, whatever you say," Nyla drops it.

Just as you reach the bottom level, you see Haechan driving in the opposite direction, and you roll down your window to talk to him. 

"Where are you guys going, we just got here?" you ask Haechan.

"Damien called Jaemin out," Hyuck tells you, "Come on," he waves at you to follow him.  

You tail Haechan's car up to the third level and easily find a few more of your friends, or rather their cars, knowing they're somewhere close by. Parking between Jungwoo and Xiaojun's cars, you gravitate toward the cluster of your friends, spotting a mop of silky jet-black hair among them.  

"Yuta!" you walk up with open arms to be embraced in a hug.

"I know I was only gone for two weeks but seems like I've missed a lot anyway," Yuta says, "So, where is lover boy Mark?"

"He's on his way," you say. 

"I can't believe it took all these years for you two to finally get together," he teased.

"I'm starting to get tired of hearing this," you roll your eyes playfully. 

"Well, it's true. You two were so ridiculously down bad for one another," Yuta teases, and you lightly hit his arm.

More people begin filling in as they anticipate the race about to go down. Jaemin's car sits at the starting point, along with Damien's. Now the only thing you're left waiting for is Johnny, Yangyang, Hendery, and Jaehyun to set up their positions around the so-called track.

"Fuck this," your impatience gets the best of you, and you snatch the walkie-talkie from Chenle's back pocket, "Are we ready?" you ask.

"Track's all clear, we're good to go," Johnny responds to you. 

Once you have confirmation from all five groups, you take the lead and stand in front of the cars. 

"You guys already know the rules. It's five levels from here to the top. Whoever makes it there first, wins," you clarify, "Ready?" you ask Jaemin and Damien. 

They both nod and you motion for them to inch their cars up just a bit so their bumpers line up exactly. You raise your hands, and the crowd begins cheering as both cars rev up. You drop your arms, and you're engulfed in the smoke their burnouts left behind as the cars whipped past you. As everyone else runs for the elevator and stairs to get to the rooftop before Jaemin and Damien do, there's only one person not moving along with the herds of people, walking toward you instead.

"You're probably the hottest race marshal I've ever seen," Mark says as you turn on your heels, almost crashing right into him.

"Mark," your face splits into a smile, cupping his face and kissing his lips.

"Miss me, baby?" he asks with a chuckle.

"Yeah, pretty boy," you tease.

Mark kisses you again, firmly keeping one hand on your lower back.

"Hey! Y'all can suck faces later, but get your asses in here now!" Summer yells from the elevator. 

Remembering the race, you grab Mark's hand, run into the elevator, and head for the top floor. 

Since Yangyang and Jaehyun were exclusively live-streaming the entire race for people to watch from the different levels they were on, everyone's eyes were glued to their phones, waiting for Jaemin and Damien to reach the top. You all watch from Jisung's phone as Jaemin takes the lead once he passes Ten on the sixth floor, drifting the turn up to the seventh, and you smile proudly since you had been the one who taught him how to in the first place.

You can hear the tires screeching and the deep resonance of the engines making their way up each floor. Hitting one last turn and perfectly timing his gear shift, Jaemin drifts his car up the ramp. The cheers of the crowd were deafening as everyone celebrated Jaemin's win, even himself, with a few victory donuts.

You would've been right there alongside everyone else, congratulating Jaemin on his win if Mark hadn't used this chance while everyone was distracted and not paying attention to either of you.

Your back meets a concrete wall with a soft thud while Mark's lips attack yours.

"What's with you, Markie?" You ask.

A low groan rumbles in his chest, "You're just so…fucking beautiful."

"Thank you, baby," you kiss his nose.

"Hey, Mark!" someone calls him, "How about you lay off your girl for a bit and let us see if you're still the big shot you thought you were in high school," Sean says.

You turn to Sean with your brows raised. The only thing holding you back from wiping that snarky grin off his face is Mark's arm still wrapped around you.

Mark's entire demeanor was calm as he nodded at Sean, "Alright. Me and you, right now," Mark says.

You follow Mark back down to the ground floor to get his car, riding with him. He holds your hand the entire drive back up to the third level, where spectators had already lined the pathway, expecting the next race.

"Do I really need to wish you luck?" you ask Mark as you look over at Sean overconfidently revving up his engine.

"I know I can take him. But I'd still appreciate it from you."

"Baby, you got this," you kiss his lips.

Mark watches as you sit back and lift your hips, reaching under your skirt to pull your panties down your legs. You hand the bunched-up lace to Mark, leaning over to his ear. "But just hold onto these just in case. Your good luck charm," you smirk.

Mark chuckles as he shoves your underwear into his pocket, looking over at you with a smile playing on his lips. "You just wait until I can get you alone," Mark pulls you in for one last kiss before you get out of his car.

You join everyone else on the sidelines as Yuta riles the crowd up. Mark looks over at you and winks. Yuta raises his arms, and Sean dramatically burns out his tires while Mark comfortably sits back in his seat. With him looking so relaxed, settling into his element behind the wheel makes heat pool in your lower stomach. Subtly pressing your thighs together, you begin to regret handing over your underwear, feeling the warmth between your legs.

"Go!" Yuta yells, and both cars take off. Summer grabs your hand, leading you to the elevator to head back up to the top floor.

As you all wait for Mark and Sean's cars to near the final level, the door to the stairwell swings open, and Nyla trudges through, making her way over to you all.

"Why're you out of breath?" Jeno asks, receiving a glare from Nyla.

"Jae and I were on the fourth floor, and those steps.." she gasps, "are no joke." Once she finally catches her breath, Nyla tells you, "I left my bag in your car, I need your keys."

You reach into your skirt pocket and pluck out your keys, handing them to Nyla before she heads for the elevator. Turning your attention back to the race, you recognize the sound of Mark's engine, and you smile as his car drifts up the ramp, beating Sean. Mark's tires screech against the pavement before he takes his foot off the gas and gets out of his car. The crowd rushes Mark, celebrating his win, you along with them.

"I told you you had him," you say to Mark.

"I'll say it was your good luck charm that secured it," he smirked.

But all the celebrating is cut short when you see people running before you hear the sirens making their way up the levels of the garage, and Mark instinctively grabs your hand.

"And I think that's our cue," Renjun grabs his drink and gets into Jeno's car.

It's hard to tell which direction the sirens are coming from as the sound bounces off every surface in the open space.

"Get in," Mark says to you, Summer, and Jisung.

You trust Nyla enough with your car to not even be concerned about it and jump into the passenger seat. Mark wastes no time shifting into drive once you're all inside and starts looking for an escape route. He avoids the exit everyone else was trying to leave from as a traffic jam starts building up, and people honking their horns isn't helping to get things moving.

"Is that Chenle?" you hear Summer ask from the backseat. You then turn your head to see the blue and red lights shadowing Chenle's silhouette as he runs toward Mark's car.

"Dude, come on!" Jisung yells to Chenle, opening the door.

Chenle dives head-first into the back seat, throwing himself across Summer and Jisung's laps.

"Go, go, go!" Chenle exclaims. Mark presses his foot on the gas and begins speeding away.

Finally finding a clear exit, Mark floors it before yanking his e-break as a police car turns the corner. You hear the cops' megaphone telling Mark to stop driving and for all of you to get out of the vehicle.

"Mark," you call him warily.

"I know," he shifts gears, "Hold on," he says, reversing the car, looking through the rear windshield over his shoulder, and putting his hand behind the headrest of your seat.

Mark expertly drives his car backward, turning the wheel with one hand, and the police continue to chase after you before Mark reaches another exit. Ending up back on the city streets, you lose the police tail, and you feel a sigh of relief throughout the entire car.

"Yeah I'm with her, Mark, Chenle, and Jisung," you hear Summer say. "Ningning's with Nyla and they have your car," she tells you as she's on the phone.

"Thank god. Tell them to bring it to Johnny's."

"They're already on their way."

Mark's car drives up to Johnny's house around the same time everyone else arrives. Just like always, the party goes on as if nothing had happened. Summer, Jisung, and Chenle get out of the car, Chenle already retelling the events of what just happened to Yangyang and Haechan when they meet in the front yard.

You and Mark don't get out yet, the two of you just silently holding each other's gaze. Mark had one hand lazily thrown over the wheel, sitting back in his seat as he eyed you.

"Mark, get out of the car," you tell him.

"Why?" Mark asks.

"Between the way you just handled that and the way you're looking at me right now, I can't promise I can hold myself back any longer."

Mark's eyes drift down from your face, tugging his lip between his teeth. The corners of his lips curl up as he takes his car out of park. Mark pulls his car into Johnny's garage, and the party fades into a dull hum once the door shuts. You and Mark are now alone, only in the presence of the other dormant vehicles in the garage. 

Mark turns his car off, and you push yourself out of your seat, leaning over the console to kiss him. Mark's hand blindly fumbles with the seat adjuster to move his seat back and allow you to climb into his lap. 

"What's gotten into you?" Mark asks, smiling against your lips. 

"You," you card your fingers through the soft blonde curls, "Mark, you're just so..hot," you roll your hips into his. Mark's hands slide up your thighs, slipping under your skirt. You can already feel the wetness dripping onto Mark's jeans, the rough material deliciously dragging against your clit. You moan around Mark's tongue, and he grips your body tighter. You accidentally lean against the wheel, hitting the horn, startling yourself and Mark.

Mark laughs along with you, "Backseat?"

"Backseat," you nod before climbing into the back of his car.

Now with more room, you grab Mark and comfortably settle in his lap. You feel the bulge in his jeans against your inner thigh and roll your hips into his. Mark's head falls back against the window, and you take the opportunity to kiss his neck. Mark's eyes flutter shut as you cradle the back of his head and sink your teeth into his skin. The moan that falls from his lips causes you to get wetter.

"Mark?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can I?" you ask, slipping your hand between your bodies and palming him through his pants.

"Yeah."

You slide out of his lap and quickly undo the button of his jeans. You waste no time trying to get his clothes off and just pull his cock out of his underwear, your mouth already salivating.

"Oh, Mark," you clench your thighs together, "You're so pretty."

His breathing becomes shallow as he says, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, baby," you kiss the tip of his cock before kitten-licking the drips of precum leaking down his shaft.

Mark sharply gasps, and the grin on your face grows bigger. You let spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his dick to assist your hand, jerking him. You wrap your lips around the sensitive tip, slowly sucking him into your mouth. Mark softly groans, placing his hand on your head. He brushes your hair out of the way so he can see your face.

"My god, look at you," he swipes a string of spit hanging from your lips when you come up for air. You playfully bite his thumb before taking his cock back into your mouth.

Hearing Mark's heavy breathing slowly turn into breathy whimpers encourages you to take more of him down your throat. You feel one of Mark's hands sliding down your back, flipping your skirt over your ass. He dips a finger into your pussy, humming approvingly when he feels how wet you are.

You are grateful his windows were tinted well past the legal limit just in case someone drunkenly stumbled into the garage.

"You get this wet from just sucking my dick, princess?" Mark smirks as he plays with your folds. "Such a dirty dirty girl," he calls you, making you moan around his cock and clench around his fingers. You lose focus and drop your head to his thigh.

"Mark," you whine as he curls his two fingers against your soft walls.

"Come on, baby," he strokes your head, "You're doing so good for me."

You slide his cock back into your mouth upon his words, swirling your tongue around the tip. Mark rests his head against the foggy window and utters soft praises between moans.

You smile, "You sound so pretty for me, Mark,"

"Feels so good," he tells you.

"Gonna cum for me, pretty boy?"

"Yes."

You ignore the burn in your arm and pump his cock faster in your hand. "Cum for me, Mark. I know you want to."

"I do, I do—fuck—I do," his voice cracks.

Your name mixed with his moans, had you dripping down your thighs. You bob your head to the same rhythm as your hand. Mark's thighs twitch, and he bucks his hips against your face. You feel the warmth filling your mouth as Mark cums. Waiting until you feel his cock soften against your tongue, you pull yourself off him and swallow his cum.

"Fuck," he sighs, "You're so good to me."

"Anything for my pretty boy," you kiss him.

Mark grabs the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He pushes his tongue past your lips, tasting the lingering saltiness in your mouth. Mark pulls you back on top of him to straddle his thigh. You start grinding your hips against his denim-clad leg.

"As much as I like having you beneath me I think I like seeing you on top of me more," Mark says, looking up at you. "That feel good, princess?" he asks, purposely flexing his thigh.

"Yes," you whimper.

"You that desperate, you gotta fuck yourself on my thigh like this?"

"For you, yes," you tell him.

Mark cups your ass beginning to direct your movements as he holds eye contact with you. You can't take it anymore and bury your head in his neck. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I'm gonna cum," you mumble against his throat.

"Already?" he teases. Mark pulls your face out of the crook of his neck. "Let me see your pretty face when you cum for me."

"Mark," you grab onto his shoulders.

"Yeah, sweetheart? Say my name."

"Mark, please."

You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your manicured nails into Mark's skin.

"That's it, baby. That's my good girl," he rubs his hands up your thighs, and you continue to ride out your high.

You slump against Mark's body, and he holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

"That was so hot." Mark says.

You smile into the kiss, "The things you do to me, Mark Lee."

You hear a knock on the door, and Mark rolls down the window just a crack to see who it is.

"Yes?" you say to Johnny, standing outside the car.

"In my garage? Really?" Johnny placed his hands on his hips like a disappointed father.

"It's my car," Mark says.

"In my garage."

"Jesus, here he goes."

"We'll be out in a sec." you say to Johnny before rolling the window back up.

"I'm not finished with you yet," Mark says as he buttons up his jeans.

"Neither am I," You grab his hand as you exit the garage and head toward the house, "And I mean…Johnny does have four other spare bedrooms," you say, and Mark smirks at you, following you into the house.

[11:25 PM] WEDNESDAY 

"Are you sure you like it?" Mark asks you for what seems like the fifth time tonight.

"Mark, why would I lie to you?" you ask.

"I don't know, you just seemed to love the blonde so much," he says, running his fingers through his silky dark hair.

Knowing Mark was planning on dying his hair back before his brother's wedding and seeing how his roots started to grow, you should've expected the change sooner rather than later. But still, you were surprised when he showed up at your parent's house for dinner, and you answered the door to find the brunette instead of the blonde you were expecting.

"Yeah, but you're still pretty, babe," you comb your fingers through his hair, making him lean into your touch.

"Thank you," he sheepishly smiles, lowering his head, attempting to hide the blush from the others rather than you. "So, I have a question for you," Mark says.

"What is it?" you ask.

"How would you like to-"

"Race wars date and location just dropped," Jaemin announces, standing from his seat.

With all of you sitting around the living room, you all wait for Jaemin to tell you.

"Well, are you gonna tell us?" Jeno asks impatiently.

"Not with that attitude," Jaemin scoffs. He clears his throat as if he's making an official announcement, stating the location before saying the date, "It starts next Friday-"

"Next Friday? Like the Friday after this one?" Mark asks.

"That is…what next Friday means?" Jaemin says.

"Mark, no," you start.

"I'm sorry," Mark looks at you apologetically.

"Wait, what?" Nyla asks.

"My brother's wedding is next Friday."

"Couldn't you just come afterwards?" Johnny asks.

"Not with that long ass drive. I know I'm good, but I'm not that good."

You were wracking your brain for every possible scenario you can come up with so that Mark would be able to go with you.

"I don't know if I'm the only one thinking this but why can't you just come down Saturday?" Chenle asks.

"I mean he could, but they changed the rule with check-in to keep too many locals from taking up space. So check-in is only available Friday. He wouldn't be able to race." Yangyang says.

"What's so wrong with that?" Summer asks.

"It's his first race wars. You really think he'd want to sit on the sidelines with you all weekend?" Renjun asks.

"Now, you listen, Huang-" Summer starts.

The bickering among your friends continued as you sit quietly, still thinking.

"What if I went with you?" you ask.

"To my brother's wedding?" Mark questions.

"I'm not trying to forcefully invite myself. But if I go with you, you and I can do that drive. We'd get there pretty late but I'm pretty sure if I talk to Taeyong I can work something out."

"You wouldn't be inviting yourself since I was just about to invite you myself."

"Really? You were gonna ask me to come as your date?" you ask, endeared.

"Well I was gonna ask you to come as my girlfriend—I mean technically you'd still be my date, but my date as my girlfriend-"

You hear nothing else after girlfriend. His girlfriend. Mark's girlfriend.

"Mark, are you kidding me?" you ask, genuinely in disbelief.

"No?"

You grab Mark's shirt and kiss him. That definitely got everyone quiet.

"Woah, woah, what did we just miss?" Haechan asks.

"I'm taking your answer as a yes," Mark says to you.

"Yes, Mark. I will come to your brother's wedding as your girlfriend," you can't help the grin stretching across your face as you say it. You then move your legs out of his lap and turn to the rest of the group. "Alright, so here's what's going to happen," you start explaining your plan to everyone.

[7:21 AM] (next) FRIDAY

"Sunny, let's go!" Nyla yells from the front door.

"I'm coming," Summer replies, dragging her oversized suitcase down the steps behind her.

Following her down the stairs, you meet the rest of your friends outside. You make sure you've packed everything you'd need for the weekend in your car before you hand your keys over to Sungchan.

"Sungchan, do you understand how much I'm trusting you right now. This is my baby," you tell him.

"Yes, I know. I promise I'll be careful with her," Sungchan nods.

You watch as Shotaro helps the younger boy hook your car up to the rig connected to the back of Sungchan's vehicle.

"Kun just called me before he boarded his flight, and said the house is ready for us. And we should really get a move on if we don't wanna hit traffic," Hendery says.

"Though I do appreciate Kun letting us use the vacation house, why isn't he going?" Goeun asks.

"He's flying out to Shanghai to meet up with Winwin. He said the car scene out there is some next level shit," Yangyang says.

"So what I'm hearing is we're making a trip to China soon," Summer says.

"Can we get to this race wars first?"

"We'll see you and Mark later tonight?" Nyla asks before she gets into Jaehyun's car. You confirm with a nod. "Have fun." she tells you.

"You too. But not too much without us," you say.

"No promises," Jaehyun playfully winks at you before driving away.

[1:19 PM]

As your Uber pulls up to the venue, you feel the smile rushing to your face when you see Mark outside waiting for you. He opens your door and holds his hand out for you.

"Wow, baby, you look…damn," he licks his lips as he stands back to get a full view of you.

"Mark, knock it off," you laugh.

Mark excitedly squeezes your hand as he walks you inside, his body seemingly buzzing.

"Babe, you okay?" you ask Mark.

"Yeah, I'm just excited to introduce you to everyone."

"We basically grew up together, Mark. Haven't I been introduced to practically everyone."

"Yeah, but not as my girlfriend," he grins.

You both made your rounds for a bit, Mark proudly showing you off to everyone before he got called away when all the groomsmen were needed for pictures, leaving you to wander over to the bar.

"I see all this secret pining has finally come to an end," you hear a voice from someone at the bar beside you. Seeing the cousin of the bride wasn't surprising, but you're still happy to see him after all these years.

"It was about time, wasn't it," you say to Doyoung.

"I'll say. It was exhausting watching you two be in love and not say anything to each other," Doyoung says.

"In love? Okay, now you're over-exaggerating," you roll your eyes, sipping your drink.

"Taeil, back me up on this," Doyoung calls his friend.

"On what?" Taeil asks, turning to you two.

"This one and Mark being so obviously in love since high school."

Taeil turns to you and starts laughing, "Oh, you're serious?" he stops laughing, "Well he's right."

"Taeil, you're not supposed to take his side!" you cross your arms over your chest.

"Sorry, kid."

Once it was time for the ceremony to start, the wedding coordinator ushered everyone to their seats. Before the groom came out, Mark walked down the aisle along with the maid of honor. 

"You ready for that to be you next?" Doyoung asks Taeil as Mark's brother walks out. 

"Am I," he smiled at his girlfriend, who stood along with the rest of the bridesmaids. 

"I'm sorry did I miss something?" you ask. 

"Oh right, I'm engaged, by the way," Taeil says nonchalantly as music for the bride starts playing. 

"What the fuck?" you try to whisper, "Oh my god, since when?"

"Since last month," he answers. 

You don't have time to celebrate the news anymore, with Doyoung shushing the two of you as the groom and bride start their vows. 

The last time you attended a wedding was before you could even drive, so you barely remember what happened, but you can count you weren't as emotional at the last one. It may also have to do with your proximity to the couple, almost feeling as if you were watching your own brother get married. You try to keep your composure as the bride continues on her vows. 

"There's nothing in my life I regret since it had all led me to you. I knew I loved you from the second we met. You've seen my at my bests and worsts. You know about all the good, the bad, the ugly, the dirty, yet you still accept and love me as I am. All the days I've spent with you, laughing, crying, smiling, yelling and there's not a single one I would take back or change-"

You can't stop the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn't really think the bride's vows would tug at your heartstrings the way they did, and all you can think about is Mark. Your eyes find his already looking at you.

As the tears fall, you give him a small smile before mouthing, "I love you," to him.

Mark tries to fight the smile coming to his face, not wanting to draw attention to himself before he mouths back, "I love you too."

You hadn't even realized the tears were streaming down your face until Doyoung handed you a tissue.

"Thank you," you whisper. 

"It's just so beautiful, isn't it?" Taeil asks, also crying and pulling out his own tissues.

[5:57 PM]

Between dancing and socializing at the reception, while waiting for the cake to be cut, you and Mark ended up leaving later than you originally planned.

By the time you were in Mark's car and on the road, the sun had started to set. Mark had one hand on the wheel while you had the other in your lap, fiddling with his fingers. You look over at him, your chest filling with warmth as you take in the way the pink and orange hues contour his features.

"You know I meant what I said before," you break the silence.

"I know," he kisses the back of your hand, "I just didn't expect you'd say it first."

"Why's that?"

"Because I know how guarded you can be with your feelings sometimes," he explains, "But still, I've been in love with you since I was 16—It's kinda crazy actually, I didn't realize it until I was already on my flight to Korea."

You ignore the tears pricking your eyes as you lean closer to Mark, peppering his face with kisses.

"I love you, Mark Lee."

[10:13 AM] SATURDAY

You wake up with the sun shining on your face. You turn over, searching for the warmth of Mark's body. Considering how tired you both were, practically collapsing onto the bed when you two finally arrive some time after two this morning, you're surprised to not find Mark still sleeping beside you, his side of the bed empty.

"Mark?" you call him without opening your eyes.

"Yeah?" you hear him reply.

"Where are you?" you ask, eyes still closed.

"I'm right here, baby," you hear his voice a lot closer as the mattress sinks under his weight.

You feel his lips on yours. Still half asleep, your reaction was delayed before you kissed him back.

"This early in the morning, Mark?" you ask with a lazy smile.

"As hard as it was to stop myself yesterday, I also have a feeling we'll be pretty busy all weekend, so I'll take every chance I get." he says.

You laugh as his nose ghost over your throat, sending goosebumps all over your skin. Mark slips his hand under the shirt of his you were wearing and cups your breast in his hand. You arch into his touch, nibbling on his bottom lip. Your head sinks into the pillows when Mark rolls the pad of his thumb over your perky nipple. Mark doesn't take his eyes away from your face as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

Your hand finds his hair, and your fingers curl around the messy dark locks as he swirls his tongue around your areola. He gently tugs your nipple between his teeth, and you roll your hips against his thigh between your legs. 

"Mark..." you finally open your eyes to look at your boyfriend.

"Can I?" he asks, toying with the hem of your panties. 

"Please," you nod. 

Mark pulls your underwear down your legs and grips your thighs as he comfortably settles on his stomach. He guides your legs over his shoulder while leaving a trail of kisses and small bites up your thighs. Mark runs the tip of his tongue along your slit, humming when your juices land on his tastebuds. 

"Oh my god, Mark," your nails lightly scratch his scalp. 

He moans back at you in response, the vibrations from his mouth sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. Your eyes screw shut, and you bite your lips so hard you're afraid you've drawn blood. You try with everything in your body to stay quiet. But with Mark messily eating you out, languidly moving his skilled tongue against your walls, you can't even stay still, let alone be quiet. 

"Please, baby, don't stop," you tell him. 

Before you even register the knock on your door, Summer enters your room, and your entire body freezes. 

"Hey-Where's Mark?"

You glance at Mark under the covers between your thighs, out of sight, and he smirks. You try to hide your reaction as he teasingly kitten-licks your clit. You squeeze your thighs around his head and quickly rush out an answer for Summer. 

"He went to go refill his tank before we go out today," you say. 

"Oh, okay. Well, breakfast is ready in ten, then we're all leaving around 11. Cool?"

You nod. "Yeah, yeah. We'll be ready by then."

Once Summer leaves, you barely have time to be relieved with Mark picking up like he never really stopped, making you cum on his tongue. 

"Fuck, Mark," you squirm, letting your orgasm wash over you. Mark continues lapping at your folds until he's satisfied. Coming from under the covers, Mark wipes the lower half of his face with the back of his hand. 

"What the fuck was that?" you ask, breathless. 

"You told me not to stop," he grins, and you roll your eyes, "You can't even act like you hate me 'cause I know you love me," he kisses you. 

"I'm beginning to rethink that decision," you tease. 

[2:24 PM]

Having been out in the sun practically all day watching races and even taking a few rides yourself, you decided to give your car and yourself a break from the sun. You parked under one of the canopies Johnny set up and took a seat on your hood. Coming back from watching Chenle race Ningning, you spot the top of Mark's head through the crowd, beginning to make his way over to you.

The look on his face can only be compared to that of a kid in a candy store. You love watching the way his eyes light up talking about the race, rambling on and on, you not minding one bit.

"So, is this everything you hoped it'd be?" you ask Mark.

He nods, subtly parting your legs to stand between them. "And so much more," he kisses you.

"Hey!" someone yells, grabbing everyone's attention, "how about you and me," Leo calls Mark out.

"Alright, how much?" Mark asks.

"No money," Leo smiles before turning to you, "I win, I get to take you out."

"As fucking if," you slide off the hood of your car, Mark instinctively wrapping his arm around you before you can get too far, some of the others coming to your defense as well. "You already had your chance and fucked that up. What makes you think I'll willingly put myself through that again? You wanna try and make yourself feel better by racing him, it'll be for two grand take it or leave it," you say to Leo.

"So he can have a shot at winning a date through a race but I can't?" Leo asks.

"Because he didn't try to win me over like I'm just a pink slip, and he doesn't have an ego bigger than an eighteen-wheeler."

"Fine. You're on, Mark," Leo nods at your boyfriend, "But we'll see if you'll feel the same when I beat him across the line," Leo smirks at you, and you scoff.

Spectators gather on either side of the runway, cheering for either racer as their cars pull up to the starting line. You had been suspiciously eyeing Leo the entire time he sat in his car with that stupid grin on his face.

"What's wrong?" Mark asks you.

"I don't doubt that you can beat him. But I don't trust he won't try anything," You say before walking up to Taeyong while Sean talks to him. "I'm riding with Mark," you tell Taeyong.

"What? You can't," Sean crossed his arms.

"There aren't any rules against it," Taeyong says.

"And how exactly do you think that'll help your little boyfriend? It can throw off his equilibrium and slow him down," Sean tries looking down his nose at you.

"Which is why you're gonna get your ass in that passenger's seat and ride with your little bestie over there," you point to Leo's car, "I mean, it's not like you haven't already gotten your own front row experience losing to my little boyfriend," you tilt your head. Sean grumbles before he walks over to Leo's car, and you get into Mark's.

"We're really doing this?" Mark asks.

"Ride or die, remember?" you hold out your hand.

Mark smiles, finishing the quote as he takes your hand, "Ride or die."

a/n: i’m telling y’all ever since ay-yo, mark has been living in my head rent free—currently the owner of a few properties, if you will. this is the longest thing i’ve ever written and tbh it would’ve been longer if there wasn’t a text block limit so i did the best with what i had 😭 and like i said before all my knowledge about cars is based off the fast and furious movies so…thank you so much for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33 tag list <33: @chardonnayyyy @aliceinwhateverland @itzz-me-duh @nctevia @sirens-dreams @pieddpiperr @yujuvly @scarletsknight

[f1daydreamers]

𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐬 [𝐌𝐕𝟏]

gif credits: @overtake

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

Summary: Seeing your boyfriend play with his nephews stirs emotions inside of you. While it may be the first time you and Max have acknowledged it, it may also be the last.

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, like one mention of alcohol, mentions of an unknown future, parenthood, lmk if I've missed anything!

Word Count: 1.0k words (3 mins reading time avg)

...

The sun dipped below the Monaco skyline, its rays streaming through the expansive windows of the apartment you shared with Max.

In celebration of his successful '23 season, you both agreed that throwing a rather modest dinner would be the perfect way to bring everyone together after a demanding year.

You'd dumped the last of the dirty plates into the sink, thanking Vic as she was already some steps ahead of you, cloth and disinfectant spray in hand as she wiped down the table.

Casting a quick glance around, you confirmed the absence of any stray cutlery, leaving only everyone's respective cups.

However, both your mind and your movements abruptly hit pause, as if your heart had taken the reins, softening at the sight of your boyfriend playing with his nephews, attentively listening to every word they were saying, whether it was meaningful or mere babble.

You smiled as Luka got up and wrapped his small arms around Max's neck, his hand rubbing up and down his little back.

Your eyes even threatened to well up a bit at the wholesome scene. As you brought your fingers up to your face, Max's gaze lifted to meet yours.

You fake-coughed, pretending to shield your mouth, averting your eyes and busying yourself, desperately trying to regain your previously lost train of thoughts.

Max couldn't help softly smiling to himself, but his moment of retrospect was interrupted by a few taps on his cheek from his nephew, who was determined to recapture his uncle's attention.

…

As the evening progressed on, you constantly found your mind plagued with thoughts that unravelled a potential future with him, one that included the laughter and chaos of children.

Yet, a persistent counterargument resounded in your thoughts, reminding you that neither would be ready, both still traversing the barely begun stages of real adulthood.

The internal conflict tugged at your emotions, creating a fine line between the yearning for a future adorned with parenthood and the sober acknowledgment of the unadorned present. As the dinner gradually transitioned into an intimate gathering with hushed conversations among the group that remained, you politely excused yourself.

Max's arm, once comfortably wrapped around your body, now gracefully descended onto the sofa behind you. With your hand placed flat on his thigh, you leveraged yourself up, slipping out of his gentle grasp.

He let maybe five, ten minutes pass by, granting you some alone time should you have needed it.

But eventually, he placed his beer bottle on to the corner table, crossing the lounge before pushing open and then shutting one of the doors to the apartment balcony.

Lost in thought, your mind had barely registered the sound, your body jolting when his hand pressed into the slight dip of your waist.

You sighed when you recognised the touch a few seconds later, turning your head to meet Max's rather sympathetic eyes.

"Sorry," he quietly apologised. You shook your head, dismissing the need for one. Turning to face him, you wrapped both your arms around his torso, gently resting your head against his chest - a hug he warmly welcomed.

"Want to tell me what's going on in that big brain of yours?" He asked, and you could practically sense the smile creeping onto his lips. He had an uncanny knack for knowing when you needed to unload your thoughts, and his intuition was always eerily accurate. You sighed, feeling his grip on you loosen as you pulled away. Leaning against the railing behind you, Max took one step closer, then another. Pursing your lips, you realised how pathetic this may possibly sound when vocalised. "Just watching you with your sister's kids. It got me thinking, I guess."

Your boyfriend already had a strong inkling as to where this was heading, but he patiently granted you the time and space to elaborate.

He arched an eyebrow. "Thinking about what?"

You lightly shrugged, pressing your bottom lip up to your top. You hesitated for a moment before the next words left your mouth.

"You know, family and stuff. Kids."

Max studied your face for a moment. "Kids, huh?" He said with a knowing smile.

You avoided eye contact, answering with a simple, "I don't know."

He chuckled softly. "Is 'I don't know' code for 'I do know but I'm scared to share my answer' because you think I don't know mine?"

Caught off guard, you silently cursed that eerie sixth sense of his, tensing as you looked up into his eyes. They were light, despite the depth of the topic.

You frowned. "Well, do you.. want children, I mean?"

There was a warmth in his gaze, one that offered you comfort. He looked over your face, his shoulders slumped as if the walls of undiscussed territory had crumbled without much of a fight.

"With you, yeah."

Your frown deepened, but this time, a different emotion flickered in your eyes.

His admission was unexpected, and a pleasant shock washed over you. The corners of your lips twitched as surprise softened into a tender smile. For a moment, your gaze lingered on his face, searching for any sign of jest or hesitation, but you didn't find any.

"If you're ready, then so am I." He added.

And just like that, the hours you spent wrestling with your own thoughts now dissipated into the evening breeze. You held back the surge of emotions within you, searching for the right words.

"Really?" you managed, but not without a quiet sob escaping at the end.

Max chuckled, rolling his eyes as he pulled you into him, embracing you for the second time tonight.

"So fragile," he teased, and you smiled despite the tears streaming down your face.

"Shut up," you retorted, your voice a mixture of laughter and tears.

There was a moment's quiet before your boyfriend spoke. "On second thought, why do I need a baby when I've got one right here?"

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, your voice muffled as you tried to argue.

"Babies cry a lot more."

"Hmm, between you and a newborn? I'd say it's pretty even."

You lightly slapped Max's stomach with your hand; his laughter eventually melting into a warm smile, and he pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head.

...

Masterlist

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗦 sebastian vetteln x fem! italian! reader (fluff) “. . . in whixh neither iof you speak the smae language, but can still understand each other through petals. you might not speak german and he not italian, but who can't speak flower?”

( master list | more of sebastian vettel ) ( requests | taglist )

Seb closed his eyes, freezing in his spot. he felt you gently brush his hair from in front of his face and clip the locks with the rest of his hair on his head.

When he opened his eyes again he couldn't look away from you, watching you brush the rest of his golden locks behind his ear gently. "Sembri così carino." [you look so cute] you giggled once you looked at the finished result. Sebastian vettel in a red apron holding a the batch of soil that still held the shape of the pot from which it was recently removed, with his hair pinned to the top his head with a hello kitty hair clip leaving his forehead exposed,

"danke." he mumbled with a little nod, trying to supress a smile which only resulted in an upside down smile. The blond didnt even realize he was staring, watching you go back to tending the garden until his mom jolted him out of his trance.

Spring was coming and your aunt decided to invite the her friend next door for a brief exchange of soil since she had extra and Heike Vettel could work a little on her own garden as well. This is where things get fluffy.

It was the moment Sebastian heard his mom mention the house across did his brain turn into mush and heart beat in rush.

the poor boys thoughts got up tangled up he swore he could hear his mom calling him to go with her because he was already putting his shoes on. And he did end up going with her because what kind of mom would Heike be to look her son in his big gorgeous blue eyes when he's all joyful and and say no?

"Es ist eine Überraschung, dich zu sehen, Sebastian." [a surprise to see you, sebastian] he greeted the middle aged woman back polietly as the two women went off to the kitchen. Slipping his shoes off, the blond went to follow when his eyes caught motion outside the back glass doors.

You're here. Now Seb's heart was truly pacing, seeing the sight of you gave him a sense of relief and anxiety. The italian girl that comes and spends the spring with her aunt every spring, thats what Sebastian knew you as. Every spring, once a year since he was a kid, you'd come over.

He remembers swinging at a park when he was 10 with his friends when he only really went there because he knew you'd be there riding your bike that day. Or that time he was 14 and instead of working on his kart inside the garage he worked in front because he wanted to impress you when you walked by.

Now that he was 19, he should probably do something about it. but the gust of the anxiety in his blood wasn't letting him, so he just stood by the sliding door a watched as you gently tend to the growing garden, removing plants from the pots and adding them in the raised bed.

Seb thought you looked beautiful and elegant, tending to nature and decorating the little garden despite it not being that big or having much to work with. And when you noticed him and called for help ( he assumed since he didn't speak italian and didn't understand your instructions ), Seb found himself in the apron, helping you preen flowers or add them to bed or pots or decorate little corners with stones.

This was fun. And what his mother found funny was the fact that his nature as a driver makes seb constantly keeps his hands clean - which is the total opposite of the situation he's in at the moment, fingers all dirty with soil stuck under his fingernails.

"Sebastian!" The blond jolted, looking back at his mom who couldn't help but laugh at his appearance. She left him out of his sight for 40 minutes and finds him barefoot and admist labour, holding a little pink carnation with his bangs held up with a hello kitty clip.

If it was any other woman, the blond would've ripped the clip out, washed his hands and feet and walked right out with his mom. If it were any woman he wouldn't even be helping her garden or letting her touch his hair. But this was you, the nice and kind and graceful- he could go on, but the point is that Seb found himself lucky- blessed even that you went out of your way to make sure that he was comfortable and not hurting his eyes.

Sebastian tried to hide the embarrassment looking away. He wasn't supposed to look so . . . whatever softie he looks like right now. "lass uns gehen." [lets go] his mom waved, tried to hold in her giggles. "Nein, nein, verlass ihn, sie haben Spaß." [no no, leave him, they're having fun] your aunt defended, also trying to supress her joy.

Seb huffed, furrowing his eyebrows ready to say something to defend his reputation but the words never left his mouth and his eyebrows uncreased quickly and eyes his eyes softened.

"Prenderò questo, si stresserà se rimane in aria troppo a lungo." [i'll take this one, it'll get stressed if its out in the air too long] whatever you said, seb agreed with you, gently and carefully handing over the pink flower, his hands and fingers brushing against your a few times, which might have been on purpose.

"Komm lass uns gehen. Lassen Sie die Arbeit im Stück." [come on, lets go. leave y/n work in piece] The blond sighed, stepping off the greenery and onto the pavement to hose his legs off as your aunt walked his mom to the door. "fermati di nuovo qualche volta." [stop by again sometime] he didn't even realise you'd walked right up to him. He gave you a little smile, still having no idea what you were saying but understanding your intentions.

if Sebastian could blush anymore than he already was, he would. You putting a little flower on his ear did it for him, and the smile you had as well as you waved before getting back to work.

Sebastian couldn't erase the smile of his face, looking at the flower in his room all giddy like a girl in a romcom. He went to dinner and back, sitting at his desk and admiring the plant. It was a while before he realized something.

FLOWERS HAVE MEANINGS! Seb remembers seeing a book with the title having the word that looks language. LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS!!

If Haike vettel didn't know something was up, she did now. "Wohin gehst du?" [where are you going] she asked, standing in the kitchen to ready dinner. "der Bibliothek." [the library] Seb answered as he ran jumped down the stairs and jumped into his shoes, shouting a bye before shutting the door after him.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"ähm … Hallo." [uhm, hi] The blond greeted shyly once you opened the door. You greeted him with a smile and a 'ciao'. The feeling of seeing your eyes light up once he held up the pot with the purple flowers. Morning glory was the flower. 'affection' was the meaning, to reply to your 'you're lovely'

"sono adorabili." [they're lovely] you smiled widely taking them politely once he held them out for you, leaning in to smell a flower from the bunch. Sweet. it took you a second before it clicked in your head. The blush and bashful smile told Seb what he needed.

that was the first time seb gave you flowers, and definitely not the last. You received them often, even when you're in italy. the boy never seized to surprise you. it started off simple like blue salvia (thinking of you) up till pink Camilla (longing for you). Seb remembers that pink Camilla day very well, the 2008 Italian grand prix.

He made a call to the florist near you Friday night before and spent the morning worrying if you received the flowers or even understood them. He remembers sitting in his torro rosso on Sunday morning, playing with the hello kitty hair clip you gave him the year prior, fidgeting with it as it sat on his fireproof sleeve from under his race suit so he could sneakily wear it throughout the grand prix and maybe get a little luck to win the race he was starting from pole, in front of all the other hungry sharks.

his favourite part about that weekend was winning the grand Prix with you watching, kissing the camera which he wished was you. He won your home grand prix, what possible flower could be waiting for him when he gets home?

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Despite already moving out from his parents home by at this point in his formula one, Sebastian still went back. Spring was on its way and so were you.

You remember this day very well, you hadn't even finished unpacking when the doorbell rang. You didn't even have to check to see who it was, you were already running down the stairs and pulling the door open. Yours eyes lit up upon seeing the blue eyed blond, a giggle falling from your mouth as you stepped aside to let him in.

as he stepped inside, Sebastian pulled the small packet of seeds from behind his back. Yellow tulips. The way your smile light up your face as you excitedly pulled him to the garden before he could take his other shoe off.

Seb wansn't sure if he picked the right flower. he's been standing at the local florist for an hour or so with his now little own language and archive of flowers book, trying to find the correct flower.

theres sunshine in your smile , desperate love , hopeless love

sebastian sighed internally, watching you walk around the garden in progress. He put a smile when you returned. You held out your hands for him, and he complied letting you give him the jonquil.

returned affection , love me , desire

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Ciaaaaao." You called out through the the flower shop once you heard the entrance door ding. You stepped out from behind the counter, feeling the whole room light up at the sight of your blond, hiding his face a boquet of tulips.

"Seb!" you giggled stepping towards him making the boy peak from behind the petals, a wide smile on his face. he giggled happily lowering the bouquet, welcoming you in a hug. red tulips? you thought, squeezing him in the hug briefly before pulling away and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

declaration of love

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Y/N," Sebastian called gently, making you peel your eyes away from the stand of fruits in the busy farmers market. You looked to your husband eho had an exited smile holding something behind his back.

"what are you hiding?" you scolded, trying to see, only to be met by a gorgeous a pot of jasmine. "Sebastian," you scolded, making the grown man pout. "What are we going to do with a jasmine tree? We have a whole meadow at home."

"Read the flowers," Seb scolded back playfully, nudging you. he'd think that after 12 years of marrige youd still have all the meanings memorized.

unconditional and eternal love

"i think the bees will like these peaches, can you get me strawberries for the bumble bees? potted ones." "or we could just grow them." Sebastian countered as he walked away only to be pulled back gently.

He smiled widely upon seeing you gently tuck a forget-me-not and a primrose in his hair above his ear. "very well then." the blondie kissed your cheek before going to get the things you asked for.

eternal love , true love , i cant live without you

[loganshouseofworship]

Can you do something with Logan that is super angsty? Maybe you two get in a fight over his career and your career? Then both of you realize that you can live without each other and end up getting back together.

Thank you!!

I can’t live without you — Logan Sargent x reader

“I can’t do this anymore Logan,” you said, cramming your clothes into your suitcase.

“Do what? What’s going on?” Logan asked

“Stand by and watch as Williams destroys your career” you said.

“Williams isn’t destroying my career, what are you talking about?” Logan says slightly, raising his voice.

“Yea they are Logan but you're so blinded by your loyalty to the team you can’t see it” you yelled through the tears.

“Wait a minute, you can’t leave!”

“Yes, I can” you said, your voice steady but tears were flowing down your face. “I can’t do this anymore”

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore!” Logan yelled as you went to slam the door shut, but Logan grabbed the door and stopped it.

“That team is destroying you Logan, it's taking its toll on your mental health. you can’t keep putting yourself through this” you said, as you put a hand on Logan’s arm.

“Williams doesn’t care about you. They used your signing as a PR move to bring in more American formula one fans and you're too blind to see that” you tell him.

“Don’t say that! Williams cares about me! They brought me in, they believed in me!”

“That’s just what they want you to believe. They’re using you…I don't know why I'm wasting my breath. I know you're going to stay. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean you left a team that loved you and cared about you, and now you're throwing it away for a team that's going to drag you through the mud.”

“Stop. Stop saying those things.” Logan said harshly. “I’m not throwing anything away. My loyalty to Williams is what’s been pushing me to do my best and not make a mistake.”

“Keep telling yourself that Logan” you say finally leaving the hotel room.

“No, wait!” Logan yelled into the hallway as you shut the door. You kept walking and didn’t turn around.

“Damnit!” Logan yelled.

“She’ll come back, she’ll come to see that it’s all going to be okay.” Logan muttered to himself.

Hours later, Logan was sitting in front of his laptop in the dark looking at old pictures of them together.

A photo of you two, looking happy came into view.

“Maybe loyalty isn’t the most important thing?” He whispered to himself.

A few weeks have gone by since the Australian Grand Prix since the night you left Logan alone in the hotel room. Logan’s home race was coming up and he wasn’t going to lie he was nervous as all get out.

Logan missed you and he realized that you were right about the team. They didn’t care about him, not like you had. Fans started noticing that Logan was looking more tired and exhausted than before the bags under his had darkened. They looked so dark that it looked like he had black eyes.

Logan’s eyes were red from lack of sleep, from stress, from working nonstop to show the team what he was made of. He looked so worn out, and it was breaking your heart. You knew that he was pushing himself too hard, and it was beginning to take a toll on his mental health, and you just wanted to be there to support him.

The race weekend was approaching, and he was still working late into the night, trying to perfect his setup. Logan’s exhaustion was beginning to show, he looked like a shell of himself. He had lost weight, and his eyes were dark and sunken. The fan base was starting to get worried about him.

You weren’t doing much better yourself. You were worried sick about him, every day. You’d lost weight, you could barely sleep because all you did was worry and think about him.

Your friends tried to comfort you, but you weren’t listening to anyone, you were focused on one thing, on getting him back.

You would spend all night and day looking for flight deals online, trying to find a way to get home and see him again. But every time you looked, they were all sold out. It felt like the universe was against you, but really it just wanted you to wait a little bit longer, to wait until the right time to reunite you.

You would constantly check the calendar, seeing how many days there were left before you could get on a flight and see him again.

Time was passing so slowly, and it felt like it was never going to end. But then finally, the day came when your flight was confirmed, and you were on your way back.

You were just hours away from seeing him again, but the feeling of relief and anxiety were equally strong. You knew you wanted to see him, but at the same time, a part of you was scared of what he would say, or that he might have moved on.

You landed in the US, and you could barely contain your emotions, you were nervous and excited, and a million other things at the same time, as you got to your car. You just wanted to get to the hotel and see him as soon as possible, but at the end of the day, you also wanted to get it right, to do this the right way.

Your stomach was in knots as you pulled into the hotel, and you felt your heart racing. You couldn't believe you were actually doing this, you couldn't believe you were actually back in the US.

You took a deep breath, and walked through the doors into the hotel, up to his room.

You stopped in front of the room, taking a moment to collect yourself before knocking on the door.

After what felt like an eternity, he opened the door. Logan’s face had gone pale, and the stress and exhaustion that had been weighing on him disappeared.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his mouth was dry, and he could barely get the words out.

“I had to see you, I had to come back” you replied, trying to get the words out.

He opened the door wider, inviting you in, you slowly walked past him, and he could feel the tension in the air.

“I’ve missed you” Logan whispered, his heart began to beat faster and faster, he was overcome with emotion, and he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“I’ve missed you too” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, and burying your head into his chest.

He pulls you even closer to him, not letting you go.

The air felt thick between the two of you, neither wanted to break the embrace, neither wanted to talk, neither wanted anything more than to feel close to each other again.

Finally, after a long moment, he broke the embrace and stepped back, wiping his eyes, he had almost cried right then and there.

“I’m-I’m so sorry” he said, unable to stop the words from pouring out.

“For what? “ You asked, you had no idea what he was apologizing for. All you knew was that you wanted to be in his arms again.

“I know I’ve been distant recently, and I haven’t been there for you” he said, taking your hands in his. He stared into your eyes, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your face.

“I just…” he began, but choked up, unable to find the right words. His lips trembled, his face twisted in regret and guilt.

“Just what?” You asked gently, trying to understand what was going on.

“You were right, my loyalty to the team has taken everything from me”. He said, his voice cracking as he fought back the tears.

“What do you mean?” You asked, he was starting to not make sense, was he just tired, it must be that, because you had no idea where this was coming from.

“You were right about the team, you said that they didn’t care about me, that they were using me as a PR move. And I tried to deny it, I tried to deny everything you said, but it’s all true…”

“I’ve pushed myself to the point of mental exhaustion, and all for what, I’ve been so blind thinking that I needed to do this, but the truth is I don’t, I don’t need Williams, I need you…” He said, staring back at you.

“Do you need me?” You said, his words caught you off guard. The reality was hitting you, he needed you, he didn’t need the team. He needed you.

“Without you, I’m lost” he said finally, admitting it out loud, he took a deep breath. “I’ve been so worried about losing Williams, and I should have been worried about losing you.”

“I need you Logan , I've missed you so much” you said, tears now spilling down your face.

“I’ve missed you too” he said, wrapping his arms around you once again. You could feel the tension in the air subside, and the stress that had been weighing on you both disappeared. It felt almost as if you’d never been apart.

His grip tightened around you, not wanting to let you go, like he needed to hold you just a little bit longer. You could feel him taking deep breaths and his heartbeat steady. It was like he needed the two of you to be as close as possible for a minute, as if he needed to make up for lost time.

“I’m never letting you leave again” he said softly, tightening his grip once again. You could feel his heart rate settle, and you could feel the tension ease even greater. It felt like home.

@a-casual-romantic @amatswimming @bblouifford @bbtoni @jinx53 @jeffs77 @toasttt11 @hrts4scarr @faithshouseofchaos @vellicora

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife reader? He's sad that Lewis crashed during the race and he felt that it was his fault. She assured him that it was not and comforted him. Maybe some surprises for him. I'll let you decide what it was. Just something fluff and cute. Tag me later!! Thanks! :))

Mercedes Madness - Peter Bonnington x Wife! Reader

Plot: Lewis doesn't have a great race, going from Pole Position to a DNF at his home race. A lot played part in the cause of the crash but your Peter Bonnington cant help but feel like it's his fault. But his wife will always be there for post-race comfort!

Credit to husbono for the GIF

It was a great weekend for Mercedes at Silverstone, they had Lewis in pole position and George next to him in P2 meaning they had the whole front line to themselves and would be able to defend from the Red Bull and McLaren that sat behind them in P3 and P4.

This was a race-weekend you were invited to every time as it was a big home race not just for the team having Lewis and George driving for them, but for you and Peter where it was also where you both grew up.

Having Lewis and George locking out the front row on the Saturday ahead of Sunday felt like a good omen for you.

However that is not how the race went down, both car's seemed to have cooling issues making it shaky and just generally harder to drive. The pit stops on top of that seemed to be slower than they had all season and communication on the pit wall at Mercedes had been awful, causing George to slip down into P6 and eventually caused Lewis and Carlos to get into a accident where Lewis wasn't able to turn his car wide enough to leave room for Carlos.

Commentator: Oh and look at that, contact between Sainz and Hamilton and he's off. The man who was set up to win it all is OUT! There's no way he can recover that car!" Commentator: Oh! Here's Bono on the radio. Bono Radio: Sorry Lewis, race over. Lewis Radio: Yeah sorry I couldn't bring it home. Bono Radio: We'll talk in debrief tonight, wasn't a good day!

Carlos was able to continue his drive, only needing to pit for a new front wing but Lewis had to retire the car.

Toto was unhappy of course, what could have turned out to be the best weekend for Mercedes since 2021 turned into a complete shit-show with how disconnected the team were.

After the race, and all the interviews and the debrief, you and Peter drove home in complete silence. You could tell he just needed some time to think, he liked doing that. Sometimes you would worry he'd send himself into a pit of bad thoughts but he always came back with a nod and a soft smile to let you know he was okay.

As you pulled into the drive way he walked straight to the bedroom, you quickly followed after him seeing him getting into some lounge wear before crawling into bed wrapping the covers around him, laying while looking up at the plain white ceiling.

"Baby, you know today wasn't just on you right? The whole team was a mess!" you offer, watching over his expression and the way he's breathing in and out slowly.

"I could have done things different..." he sighs looking over at you.

"Mmm, but so could the engineers... and Toto, and even Lewis. But we'll make a comeback in Spa, I know you feel as though your to blame and yes maybe you could have called out better strats but the race is done... George still got the team points. But if you keep your mind open on this race, it'll be the same in Spa!" you advise pulling him into a hug which he accepts slinking a soft hand around your waist.

"I don't know what i did to deserve you!" he sighs rolling over onto his side and kissing you softly.

"Let's get some sleep, tomorrow will be a better day" you say still holding onto him.

The next morning you quietly got out of your bed, making your side as quietly as possible so you didn't wake up your sleeping and clearly exhausted husband.

You went and got yourself ready in the family bathroom rather than the ensuite in your room, not wanting to wake Peter up. After getting ready for the day you ventured out for the morning errands you'd told yourself you'd do.

You wanted to surprise Peter with an entire relax and restoration day. You hit up your guy's local spa/gym asking for a few treatments you know Peter liked to get for later on in the day. You then went to the cinema and purchased two tickets to a film that Peter had been wanting to see but due to all the travelling he hadn't had the chance to.

You then went to his favorite bakery buying a large box of all of his best sweet treats he would enjoy after race weekends.

Finally you ended your trip at the shops buying a ingredients for a special dinner you'd cook him tonight and a few snacks that you guys would take into the cinema with you.

You come home, stepping into the door with all the shopping bags clutched in every way you could possibly hold them before chucking the car keys on the entryway table.

As you step into the kitchen your husband rushes up to you helping with the bags.

"Where have you been?" he asks looking over you, a small frown on his face.

"Just out!" you smile opening the fridge and checking the current food in there to see what was still in date.

"I woke up and you weren't here!" he admits with a groan and hugging you from behind.

"Mmmmm I've been planning for Peter Day!" you grin turning round.

"What is Peter Day?" he asks cocking his head to one side.

"Well, we'll start of with a run. Then we'll go to the Spa, and then the cinema and out for a light lunch. Then we'll come home and I've got the ingredients for your fav!" you smile, placing a kiss on his cheek before reaching into the tote bag that held some of the ingredients in and showing him before placing them in the fridge and cupboards.

"You did all that for me?" he asks.

"Well, it's been a tough weekend darling. You deserve some you time!" you smile, and he pulls you in for a hug putting his face in the crook of your neck. A relaxed sigh leaving him.

"Thank you really I love you so much. God what did i do to deserve you!" he smiles looking over you, kissing you one more time before helping you with the rest of the shopping.

"Okay, go get some running gear on! We'll go round the trail you like, even though it kills me!" you joke, knowing he preferred the uphill route because of the views rather than your nice job around the lake your house was next to.

"As much as I love your treats for today, promise me we can have a home day together tomorrow?" he asks looking over at you, and you nod because a home day was a rarity in the Bonnington household.

"Yeah, a home day sounds great love!"

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[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg)

chapter 1 - a female rosberg?

warnings - none at all

The 2018 Formula 1 season commenced. The Abu Dhabi sun beat down mercilessly on the Yas Marina Circuit. The air buzzed with anticipation as teams scurried around their cars, a symphony of clanging wrenches and hurried conversations. Lewis Hamilton, ever the picture of focus, adjusted his helmet, the familiar silver and black of Mercedes a second skin.

Across the paddock, laughter erupted from the Red Bull garage. Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, and Carlos Sainz huddled around a phone, their faces contorted in mirth. Max Verstappen, the ever-competitive Dutchman, rolled his eyes but a smile flickered across his lips.

The arrival of Christian Horner, Red Bull's Team Principal, silenced the chatter. "Alright everyone, time for introductions," he boomed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Welcome, for the 2018 season in Redbull Racing, the one and only…"

Lewis braced himself, expecting the usual suspects. Ricciardo, Perez, maybe even Alonso making a comeback.

"Y/N Rosberg!" Horner finished, a flourish in his voice.

A collective gasp rippled through the paddock. Lewis whipped around, his visor reflecting the harsh desert sun. He couldn't believe his ears.

Y/N was a force of nature. A whirlwind of talent and sharp wit, she'd taken the junior racing scene by storm. By winning every category in her rookie season, the sister of the great Nico Rosberg was the it-girl of the racing world. Sarcastic and fiercely loyal, she'd carved a niche in the tightly knit paddock, adored by everyone but Lewis. He, still smarting from his championship battles with her brother, Nico, couldn't help but see a reflection of his old rival in her steely blue eyes.

Y/N, oblivious to the stunned silence, grinned, her voice dripping with mock seriousness. "Don't worry, everyone, I don't bite… much."

Lewis felt a familiar rage bubble in his chest. Intense feelings of fear and anger overcame him. His rival's sister, Nico's sister. Here. In his territory. As a scramble of reporters snapped pictures of Y/N, everyone shouted questions at her. "Is this a way to get back at Lewis?" "Will we see another silver war?" "Are you going to crash him?" Y/N stood unimpressed by the naive questions. Her gaze flickered onto Lewis, a wave of overwhelming nostalgia overcoming her. But upon remembering her brother and the tears he shed due to his fight with Lewis, she slipped on a mask of indifference. After all she was making history as the first ever female F1 driver and this was war.

She was going to avenge her brother and prove to everyone just how good of a driver she was. If she happened to destroy Lewis's ego along the way, that was just an added bonus :)

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[producedbyhanjisung]

⎯ N'OUBLE PAS DE VIVRE. christopher bahng chan

🎧 : bang chan x female reader

TROPE. streetracer!au, fake dating au

WORD COUNT. 5.9k

WARNINGS. drinking, mentions of drugs, illegal activities, streetracing, smut

PARTS. one, two, three

SYNOPSIS. y/n, new to seoul, south korea, has yet to find the crowd she wants to roll with. that is, until she hears one of her best friends babbling about the hottest topic of the city - the streetracers. specifically a group known as "stray kids". when y/n finds herself in the backseat of one of the racers' cars, she is thrown unexpectedly into a world much different from the one she was raised in - and perhaps has found the crowd she wants to roll with.

SMUT WARNINGS. kind of dirty talk not really, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving) (there will be more in the other parts)

n'ouble pas de vivre. ⎯ don't forget to live.

"What if I told you that I fucking hate you?" You glance over at your father, eyes lidded. You know you're high out of your mind, and you know that you don't really mean it - you haven't meant anything you've said in the past three hours.

"You don't hate me." Your father flips the page of his book absentmindedly, practically ignoring the fact that you're screaming in his face.

"I hate you!" You yell, and as if trying to make your point, you smudge the end of your cigarette on the wall. Part of you hopes that your father will stand up and reprimand you - the other part hopes you can continue getting away with your outrageous behavior.

"Why do you hate me, Y/N?" He finally looks up, locking eyes with you.

"You tore me away from my home," you say finally, sitting down against the wall. "I want to see my mom."

"You know damn well where your mother is." A flash of anger tears through your father's face, before quickly fading. He composes himself, straightening his suit. "Your mother is dead, honey."

You realize that you're crying now, but you couldn't give less of a fuck. Your father - this man who you've never met before in your life - has never chosen to care about you before the death of your mother. Why on Earth would he choose to care now? What was so important that you had to pack yourself up from New York and cross the fucking world to get to Seoul, South Korea?

"Fuck you!" You yell, standing quickly and moving through the hallway, up the stairs and to the bedroom that you've never slept in before. This is not your childhood bedroom, or the one that your mother always kept ready when you were away at college, or even the one at your ex-boyfriend's house - what on Earth were you going to do without Soobin here?

Some deep, hidden recess of you understands that this situation isn't your father's fault - in fact, you're sure he'd much rather be out partying and bringing home anyone he pleases than babysitting for an eighteen-year-old walking depressive episode. You know that he doesn't want you here, and you don't want to be here either.

So why won't he let you leave?

The thoughts make their way hurriedly through your mind, as though they're late to a business meeting in some other deep cavity of your skull. Soon, the rushing puts you to sleep, and you're left to dwell alone in your subconscious.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒

When you awaken again, it's nearly six am. With class two hours later, you get up slowly and get ready for your day, brushing your teeth and donning your clothes that look much too American for your liking.

"Can we pick up Soyeon?" you ask as you exit your father's house, looking over at his private driver, who just bows and nods at you. You're at Soyeon's apartment fifteen minutes later, and the pretty blond grins as she jumps into the backseat of the sports car with you, clutching her bag.

In your entire two months living in Seoul already, you've made all but one friend - Jeon Soyeon. An aspiring underground rapper with a taste for expensive sunglasses. She splays out across the backseat, letting her legs drape over your lap as she hangs her head out the window. "How mad was your dad last night?" she asks, tilting her head at you as she swings her head back in to examine your face.

"Not mad," you say, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. You catch a glimpse of the driver wrinkling his nose, but you ignore it, taking a drag and blowing a puff of smoke at your friend's face. "He wasn't upset at all until I brought up my mom. I don't think he cares that I was smoking and stuff."

Soyeon pretends to pout. "You're lucky. My mom is such a cunt about all that stuff. 'That shit kills you, Soyeon.' Like I don't wanna die already!" she giggles, and you can tell that even now, at seven-thirty in the morning on a random Tuesday in March, Jeon Soyeon is high out of her mind.

"I'm so glad we ended up in the same psych class," she says, bloodshot eyes glancing up at you. "Life would be so boring. All those fucking do-gooders are fucked."

"You're fucked," you say, pushing her playfully.

"So are you, bitch!" she laughs.

Not long after, you've arrived at the university that the two of you take classes together at. You get out of the car, shouldering your bag and stepping out onto the green, Soyeon following behind you. Around you, students bustle around, lounging between classes, hand-in-hand with their lovers, trying to run from a one-night-stand without being seen. You smile as a girl runs from bush to bush, trying to fix her mousy hair and hide the fact that she's still wearing the dress you saw her in at the party last night. In fact, you remember taking off that dress. You wonder how she ended up at someone else's dorm.

Soyeon hardly notices anything, running a little ahead of you and jumping into a much-too energetic cartwheel.

"Who'd you end up going home with last night?" you ask her, jogging a little to catch up.

"Some guy. Chi . . . Ji-something? . . . no . . . Sung? . . . Jisung? I think that's what his name was."

You nod. "Was he nice?"

"He was cool," Soyeon says. "I've seen him and his friend a few times at the rap shows. Sometimes one of them gets up and does a little freestyle. He's pretty good. He's part of a street racing group though, did you know?"

"Street racing?"

"Come on, don't tell me they don't have street racing in America."

"No, they do, it's just like not something that happens a lot. And most American street racers don't go to prestigious universities, either."

"Haughty haughty." Soyeon wiggles her eyebrows at you, nudging you gently. "Most stoners don't go to prestigious universities either. And here we are, strolling into a fucking psych lecture in a prestigious university."

You take your seats beside each other, waiting for the lecture to begin.

"You should come with me. Jisung asked if I wanted to come see a race tonight. He said I could get a backseat pass and everything." She winks at you, and you shake your head knowingly. "Seriously though. It could be fun! Maybe you'll find your new calling."

You roll your eyes. "I'd rather not," you say.

So, how exactly did you end up here, fourteen hours later, sitting in a crowded back-alley dotted with girls showing too much skin and guys showing off their fancy multi-colored cars.

"This doesn't seem like a street race," you tell Soyeon, fixing your dress. It's practically vanta black and too short, but Soyeon said it complimented your figure and you didn't want to fight with her.

"That's cause none of the big leagues have shown up yet. These are all just bozos who get off on girls in small tops."

"You do realize that you're a girl in a small top, right?" You glance over at Soyeon, who is dressed in a flattering bikini top and jean skirt, showing off her delicate body.

Soyeon turns around and wiggles her ass at you. "Damn right I am." She stands back up, ignoring the whistling and claps that erupt around us at her little display, and leads me over into a semi-vacant corner of the lot. "Look, they're starting to show up. I'll give you a rundown of the big groups, yeah?"

You nod, looking around.

"See them, over there? The four girls? That's Blackpink. Their racers are Lisa and Jisoo - some of the best girls in the league." She points off at a group of four girls, standing beside two cars - one black and one pink.

"Them? Ateez. Hongjoong is in charge of them, I think, but he doesn't race." She continues rattling off names that don't mean anything to you - Itzy, Seventeen, Le Sserafim, P1Harmony, and a few others. Finally, she pauses. "Look, there's Jisung. He's with Stray Kids."

"Stray Kids?"

"Mhm. They're at the top right now. Four racers, four mechanics, but they practically all do everything. Look, those four are the racers. They have names, I'm sure, but everyone calls them by their racer names. J.One - that's Jisung - and Spear.B and I.N. And that's CB97. Jisung, Changbin, Jeongin, and Chan."

"Chan is cute."

She looks over. "You think so?"

You nod, watching him. His hair was short-ish and hung in dark curls that framed his face nicely. He had a piercing on his nose, and wore a fitted black shirt and jeans that looked way too big for him. Even so, it was clear he was ripped, and held himself with confidence, even amongst the rest of his team.

"You and every other girl here," Soyeon says. "He graduated from the school we're going to last year."

You nod again, hardly able to form words as you watch his graceful movements. You barely pay attention as Soyeon spouts off the rest of the members, then drags you over to say hi to Jisung, who grins and kisses her on the cheek as the two of you come up to them.

"Who's this?" he asks, turning to you.

"Y/N," you say, bowing slightly.

He laughs. "None of that, let's be informal. No one here gives a fuck. Soyeon, can you come help me with something?"

Soyeon nods, giggling and blowing you a kiss as Jisung whisks her away.

"Great," you say quietly to yourself. "Alone."

"Not alone," says a deep voice behind you. You turn, finding yourself face to face with none other than CB97 - Chan.

"Oh, no?" you ask. "I look pretty alone to me."

He shakes his head, leaning against the car. "I'm here, aren't I?"

You nod, trying to hold back your urge to scream and kick your feet like a little kid. "I suppose so."

"American?"

You sigh. "Mhm."

"We can speak English then, love." You look up quickly as the boy switches from Korean to English, what sounds like an Australian accent layered thick over his pretty voice.

"Oh, okay."

"Ever been to one of these before? Races, I mean."

You shake your head. "First time. My, uh, my friend dragged me out here actually. She's with Jisung, I guess? They went to go work on something together."

Chan shakes his head. "Of course they are. Soyeon is your friend? She's trouble."

You nod. "Tell me about it."

"I'm Chan, by the way. Bang Chan. Everybody around here calls me CB97 though."

"Do you want me to call you that?" you ask, looking up at him.

"You can call me Chan, pretty girl. Now, do you have a name? Or should I just keep calling you pretty girl?"

"Pretty girl works for me." You smile. "My name's Y/N though."

"Y/N." He mutters the name over and over, as if turning it over like a coin in his mind. "Cute."

"Thanks."

"Chan!" You both look up at a redheaded boy who called his name, waving him over to a deep purple car.

"That's my queue." Chan winks at you. "Here, um, can I have your number?"

"I, yeah, do you have any paper or something to write it on?"

"CHAN."

"I'm fucking coming, Minho." Chan presses his hand to his temple, eyes closed. He turns back to you. "Let me grab my phone, it's just in my car-"

"Ten, nine, eight . . ."

"You know what? Fuck." Chan practically manhandles you over to his car, opening the backseat and basically tossing you in before getting in the driver's seat.

"What the fuck?" you snap, sitting up as the door is closed behind you.

"Hang on," Chan says softly, and you watch his eyes flit around the dash, searching for problems with his car. He drives slowly up to a white line in the road, lining up with three other cars. You don't recognize either of the drivers on the other sides of Chan. "Come up front," Chan says quickly, patting the passenger seat. "Quick."

You do as he says, climbing up to the passenger seat of the car and buckling your seatbelt quick.

"I hope you don't get motion sickness." He tries to joke, glancing over at you. You glare at him. "Look, I'm sorry. I really didn't want to lose you in the crowd or anything and I couldn't find my phone and I didn't have enough time, so I just- I don't know. I just brought you in here with me. I'm sorry."

You sigh. "I can't even pretend like I'm upset. You're really fucking hot. You know what they always say: n'ouble pas de vivre."

"What is that, French?"

"'Don't forget to live.' Yeah, it is."

"I've never heard that before."

"It's basically like saying 'fuck it' to the world."

"Maybe I like that saying. Look, if you wanna get out-"

You look over at him. "Hell no. I have too much social anxiety to walk off the track like that."

Chan cracks a smile. "Then buckle up, sweetheart."

"I'm buckled."

He reaches over, and you find your heart pounding in your chest as he tugs on your seatbelt, making sure it's tight. "I'm not stopping once we start," he says. "This race is important."

"I wouldn't expect you to." You flash him a smile. "Relax. It's cool."

"You say that now," he says, cracking his neck in a jerky movement.

You roll your eyes, slumping back in your chair. In front of you, a tanned woman wearing hardly a bikini steps out in front of the cars, holding a red flag in each hand. She raises the flags, and Chan tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

The woman raises both flags. You hardly see her drop them before Chan's foot is all the way down on the gas, propelling the car forward. You let out an involuntary yell, and you catch Chan grinning out of the corner of your eye.

The race is over as soon as it had begun. Chan won - not surprising, considering the reckless way he drove - and looked over to smile at you as you pulled back into the lot. "Enjoy it?"

"I'm never ever getting in a car with you again."

He snorts a laugh. "I liked the part when you were screaming."

"What, the entire time?"

"Something like that."

"Don't you have to go greet your adoring fans?" you ask, only half joking.

"I'd much rather sit in here and talk to you."

You pretend to run your fingers through your hair to hide the smile that flits across your face.

"Do you live anywhere around here?" he asks.

You shake your head. "Other side of the city."

Chan presses his lips together. "It's getting pretty late . . . my apartment is close by. If you wanted to, you could stay there for the night. I have a feeling your friend will end up there too."

"You share an apartment with Jisung?"

He nods. "Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin. Loud fucking group."

You smile. "That sounds nice. You're not gonna like, kidnap me and eat my kidneys are you?"

"If I wanted to kidnap you, I'd have already had plenty of opportunities for it. As for eating your kidneys, I can't promise anything." Chan looks over at you with an expression that sets your heart pounding in your chest.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that, you freak."

The name calling is playful, but Chan pretends to be offended, opening his mouth in feign shock. He moves to say something, but he's interrupted as a pretty boy with longer hair knocks hard on his window, making a disgruntled face and pointing for Chan to unlock the door.

"Hey, Jinnie. This is Y/N, have you met her yet?"

The man shakes his head, then bows a little at me. "I'm Hyunjin."

"Nice to meet you." You smile at Chan's roommate.

"She's coming back with us tonight," Chan tells Hyunjin. "Her apartment is across town, so I figured that would be fine."

"Sure, like Jisung and Soyeon won't be loud enough as it is."

"We're not going to fuck, asshat." Chan pulls Hyunjin's beanie off his head, getting out of the car to dance around him playfully. You get out too, laughing at their antics.

"You have any more races?" Hyunjin asks as he snatches his beanie back.

"Not tonight. Do the others?"

Hyunjin shakes his head. "I'm gonna head back now. Let the others know."

Chan nods. "We'll be there soon."

For the remainder of the evening, Chan's arm is locked around your waist, keeping you close to him, as though you getting in the car with him was some sort of unspoken oath that you would be by his side the rest of the night. He takes you around to meet the other members of his crew, then a few others. You recognize a few from Ateez, who Stray Kids seem to be particularly close with. Finally, Chan announces that the two of you are leaving. Minho and Felix are quick to catch up to Chan and you, asking if they could catch rides with Chan.

As you approach his car, you move to get in the backseat, expecting one of the other boys to take their position next to Chan. You jump a little as Chan grabs your wrist, opening the passenger door for you.

"Well I'll be damned," Felix says, grinning at the display, "Channie's whipped for you, Y/N, you should be proud."

Minho grunts in agreement from the other side of the car. Chan rolls his eyes at both of them, helping you in the car then going over to his side and getting in.

The ride back to their apartment is talkative, with Minho and Felix telling you embarrassing stories about Chan and cracking jokes from the backseat, with Chan occasionally chiming in to make fun of them too. He keeps looking over at you, like he's checking if you're safe, even though you're no longer doing eighty on a city road.

You finally pull up to a nice-looking apartment building, and everyone gets out. You follow the three boys to the seventeenth floor, to apartments 17A and 17E, which are each across the hall from each other. Chan bids goodnight to Minho and Felix, who enter 17E, and unlocks the door to 17A, smiling at you. "Tired?"

"Not particularly, why?"

"'Cause I can smell the weed that Hyunjin got out."

The rest of the night is a blur, filled with smoking and weird pastries that Changbin practically pulled out of his ass and really good music that, apparently, Chan likes to make.

The next morning, you wake up in Chan's bed with a raging headache and only half dressed. Chan is sitting on the floor, reading a book. You mumble something inaudible, and he turns to look up at you.

"Morning," he says, smiling as he shuts the book and moves to sit next to you on the bed. "How do you feel?"

You groan, mashing your head into the pillow.

"Yeah, I figured as much. Here, take some Tylenol." You don't even look at the pill and cup of water Chan hands you as you down it.

He runs a hand through your hair, looking down at you. "Take your time, pretty girl. I'm in no rush, and I have a feeling you aren't either."

"Thank you," you say, reaching up to gently trace patterns on his wrist.

"You know, it's funny."

"What is?"

"We met each other last night."

You open your eyes. "What?"

"It seems like we've known each other forever, don't you think?"

You blink, sitting up a little. "Yeah, it does, honestly."

He smiles. "I guess that's good, right?"

You nod, looking around. "Is this your room?" There's posters of bands and cars on the wall, a collection of CDs and vinyls littering his half-open closet, and a rack of clothes waiting to be folded.

He nods. "Sorry, it's kind of messy."

You shake your head. "It's homey. I love it."

"You do?"

"Mhm."

"You could come over a lot more, you know. I like having you here. It was nice sleeping next to someone for a change."

You look up at him, eyes widening.

"What, you didn't expect me to sleep on the floor, did you? Not even for you, pretty girl."

"Stop calling me that, it doesn't apply in this situation."

"Yes it does." Chan rolls his eyes, touching your face tentatively. "You're absolutely gorgeous. Even with your makeup everywhere." He laughs softly, running a thumb under your eye to collect the bits of mascara that came off while you were sleeping.

"Thanks," you mumble.

"Come on, I'll help you up. Hyunjin made waffles for everyone."

You let Chan lead you into the main section of the apartment, where Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Soyeon are all sitting around a table, looking out the window over Seoul.

"Morning," Chan says, making his way to the kitchen part of the room.

A round of "morning"s chorus from the other side of the room.

"I'll get you some, go sit," Chan tells you as you join him in the kitchen. You do as he says, moving over to the couch to sit next to Soyeon, who's wearing a sweatshirt you've never seen before.

"Where's that from?" you ask. "It's cute."

"It's mine," Jisung says, smiling. "I'm glad you like it."

Soyeon nods. "How was it with Chan last night?"

"I have no idea," you tell her. "I have no memory of last night past taking the blunt from you."

She grins. "He was pretty adamant about you guys not having sex."

"I don't think we did, actually. I was fully clothed when I woke up."

"That's a good sign," she says, nodding solemnly. "I wasn't, so . . ."

You push her playfully, laughing.

Chan finally joins you all on the couch, grinning as he hands you a plate of waffles. As you move to take a bite, you're surprised by the sound of the doorbell. Hyunjin jumps up to get it.

"Chan!" he calls from the front of the apartment. He darts back into the living room. "It's your mom!"

Chan blinked once, then twice. "My mom?"

"Dude, she's right outside!"

"Fuck!" Chan says. "Y/N, I'm about to ask you something that you might not want to do, and you totally don't have to. My mom texted me last night to ask where I was and I told her I was out with my girlfriend. Is there any way you could, maybe, like, pretend to be dating me?"

You stare at him. Is this not something out of those romance books you read when you were younger? And Chan, the super mega hot street racer wanted this?

"Yeah, of course," you say.

"Okay." Chan breaks into a smile, and you hear Hyunjin let his mom in.

Everyone stands up, moving towards the door as a short, pretty woman enters. Chan steps forward, pulling her into a tight hug. "Mom! Why'd you come up, I thought you were gone visiting Hannah?"

"His sister," Changbin mouths to you, and you nod.

"I thought I'd take a layover in Seoul on my way to LA," the woman says, smiling.

"How long are you here for?"

"Two days. Now! Enough about me! Where's that pretty girlfriend you were telling me about?"

Chan laughs, nodding. He turns and takes your hand, pulling you forward next to him. He wraps his arm around your waist, kissing your forehead. "This is Y/N, Mom."

Chan's mom takes your hands in hers and smiles at you. "You're gorgeous, darling, I can see what Chan has been saying about you."

You look over at him for a split-second, then back at his mother. "Thank you so much." You smile.

She pats your face, then looks up at Chan. "And you dilly-dallied with that Libby for so long. I can't believe this beautiful woman wants to be with you."

"Mommmm," Chan says, groaning.

"Alright, alright. I just wanted to drop by. Would you all like to come out with me for dinner tonight?" his mom asks. "You can ask the other boys too, I know you eight don't like to go places without each other. And Y/N, you're welcome to come as well. And um, you dear." She smiled and bowed a little at Soyeon, who blushed and bowed back.

"We'd love to, Mrs. Bahng," Jisung says.

Everyone shares a few more goodbyes before Mrs. Bahng exits, leaving the six of you.

Chan turns to you immediately. "You're my literal savior, thank you so much. I mean, seriously."

"You should give her some better thanks than that," Jisung says. "Y/N just saved your ass."

Chan looks down at you. "I'm sure we'll work something out."

You can't help but feel an explosion of butterflies in your abdomen. Chan's gaze is fairly seductive as he watches you, eyelashes fluttering. You look back up at him, lips curling into a smile.

Barely an hour later, Chan and you are sitting on the porch of the apartment together, smoking a blunt that Jisung pulled out of his sock drawer.

"You know," Chan says. "I could give you a better thanks." He looks over at you.

You're not sure if it's the marijuana filtering through your body, or if he actually is, but you swear you've never seen a hotter man in your life.

"Oh yeah?" you ask. "What did you have in mind?"

He looks over at you pointedly, as if letting you know with his eyes.

"What?" you ask.

"I could eat you out," he tells you.

You cough, a puff of smoke leaving your lips. "You could what?"

"That's what Jisung told me to do. I'm just following what he said. But I like you. You're pretty. Actually, you're super gorgeous. You might actually be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I definitely wouldn't mind eating you out. Or just kissing you. Or just touching your lips wouldn't be that bad either . . ."

You tilt your head, smiling as he rambles on.

Finally he pauses. "You're really pretty."

"You're pretty fucking hot yourself," you tell him, passing the blunt.

"You think so?"

"Have you seen yourself?"

He laughs. "I'm glad you think so, Y/N. You don't have to make up your mind about it anytime soon, just, like, let me know, you know? It's the least I can do."

"Actually, I have an idea," you say.

Chan looks up. "Yeah?"

"I've never had sex," you say bluntly. Then you pause. "With a guy, at least. And I'm not good at kissing anyways. Here's my proposal. I'll keep pretending to be your girlfriend for as long as it takes, but you have to teach me all this stuff. How to like, give blowjobs and such."

"You've never given a blowie before?" He looks up in surprise. "With your pretty lips?"

If this were any other man, you would've found that comment horrendous. But this was Christopher Bahng, so you were perfectly okay with it.

"Sure," he says at last. "That sounds like a fair deal. N'ouble pas de vivre. When should we begin?"

You shrug. "Whenever, I guess."

"Well, it's only fair you get something today, cause you directly helped me today," Chan says.

You giggle, starting to stand. "You want me to suck you off, Channie?"

He shakes his head, standing from his chair and pushing you back into yours. One hand presses your lower abdomen, pinning you in place while the other pushes your legs apart, spreading them as he gets on his knees in front of you. "I don't want that to be how we start. I wanna taste your pretty pussy."

You blush, not used to the foul language he's speaking, but writhe anyways as he rakes one hand up your thigh, gently tugging on the hem of your shorts. "Hips up."

You do as he says, lifting your hips for him to let him slide both your panties and shorts off. "The others-" you start to say, but Chan stops you.

"I've caught them in much more compromising positions," he says. "This is nothing, babygirl."

Babygirl. You're once again reminded of your new life motto: if this was anyone other than this man saying these things, you would absolutely die. But, because it's Christopher Bahng, you'll let it slide.

"It's not?"

He shakes his head. "Just relax, okay? Let me do it all, yeah?"

You nod slowly, letting him push your legs apart, leaving you bare to him - and anyone unfortunate enough to be on the roof of the building over. You hardly cared, however, because he looked up at you with a smug grin on his face, face slowly moving toward your cunt.

"Chan," you say softly. You're not sure what you're trying to say to him by saying his name, but he just shakes his head and delves between your legs.

You moan softly as his tongue flicks against your clit, and you feel one of his fingers running up your thigh, all the way to tease your clenching hole.

You moan a little louder as he kisses your pussy, running his tongue between your folds and all around, slowly letting a finger slip inside you. Before you know it, there are two inside you, gently massaging your g-spot, which he seemed to have no trouble finding.

There's a new sort of tension in your stomach, building up as he continues his ministrations. You feel his nose brush against your clit, pressing harder against it as he licks around your hole, working around his fingers. Without warning, you're cumming hard, shaking and moving to close your legs around his head. "Oh, baby," you hear him say, his voice teasing. "That felt good?"

Chan pries your thighs back open, fingering you through your orgasm as he watches your face in awe.

You slump in your chair as you come down from your high, and Chan smiles, standing. He helps you back into your panties and shorts, then sits you back down, smiling. "You look beautiful when you cum. I mean you look beautiful always, but like, particularly when you cum."

You blush, not expecting such a blunt compliment.

He continues on, much to your dismay. "You just looked so . . . fucked out, I guess. Like you were fucking ascending or something. You looked gorgeous."

"I'm glad you think so," you giggle a little. "Um, thank you for that."

"Anytime." Chan grins. "Literally, anytime."

You smile. "I'll let you know next time."

Chan nods. "So, um, I have a race tonight. Do you wanna come with me? I think the boys might stay back, and it's nice when someone rides shotgun."

"Sure," you say. "It was fun last time."

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒

That night, you find yourself standing in front of the mirror in Chan's room, with Soyeon sitting on the bed behind you. Chan is in the shower, playing some odd assortment of music, and you're trying to figure out what to wear to his race.

"When it comes to these things," Soyeon is explaining to you, "the sluttier, the better."

"Do I really wanna dress like a slut though?"

"Yes. Always."

You turn and look at what she's holding out to you. You unfold the first item - a low-rise jean skirt. "My whole ass is gonna be hanging out, Soyeon."

She shrugs. "I like your ass. Chan obviously likes your ass. You have a great ass. Let it free, mama."

"For the top?" you ask, rolling your eyes.

Soyeon chucks something at you.

"This is barely a top."

"Let your titties free!" Soyeon crows.

You giggle. "How much have you smoked so far tonight?"

She shrugs. "I lost count at six hits. Wanna make out?"

Chan walks out of the bathroom just as she says this. He pauses, looking at you, then at Soyeon. "Don't let me stop you, ladies." You hardly pay attention to what he says though, because Chan is shirtless. He has a towel draped around his waist, his dark hair is wet and curly and shaggy on his head, and his torso, good god. His torso is muscular and defined, with a full six pack, monstrous pecs, and muscular arms.

Soyeon stands, holding out the skirt and top to Chan. "Don't you think Y/N should wear something like this tonight?"

Chan tongues his cheek, examining the clothes. "I think Y/N should wear whatever she wants to wear. But, I think you'd look fucking hot in these."

"Seeeeeee, sweetie? I've got your back. Go put these on."

When you emerge from the bathroom after your changing, you feel like a different woman. Soyeon was definitely right about her outfit choice for you. A nice pair of heels, a low-rise jean skirt, a black halter top that hardly covers your tits. She ended up throwing a thong into the bathroom too at some point, which you now have pulled up past your skirt, hooking over your hips to show it off a little.

"You look hot," Soyeon says, a puff of smoke curling from her mouth as she speaks. Chan is waiting at the mirror, staring at you.

"You look pretty." He clears his throat. "Not pretty. Like, drop dead mega hot."

"Slutty, cunty, I love it!" Soyeon squeals and jumps up, grabbing your hands and pulling you in a circle.

"It's okay?" you ask.

They both nod aggressively.

"Come on, let's go ask the other boys how they like it."

You're surprised at how comfortable you are already in the apartment with the boys. Jisung and Hyunjin are watching TV on the couch, and you gladly give them a little spin to show off your outfit. Changbin is in his room, lifting weights, and he whistles at you, telling you how much cunt you're serving.

As you and Soyeon exit Changbin's room, Chan catches you in the hallway, arm looping around your bare waist. "I have something for you, if you want it."

You tilt your head, looking up at him as Soyeon continues back into the living room, leaving the two of you alone in the darkened hallway. "Oh?"

He presents a long golden chain from his pocket. "It's a belly chain. I thought it might suit the outfit tonight. And also, Soyeon told me you wouldn't wear it unless I gave it to you. So . . ."

You roll your eyes. "I would have worn it. It's pretty though. How . . . how do you put it on?"

"Turn around," he says. You do as he says, and you feel him loop the chain around your waist, clasping it at the back. "I like it," he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "You really didn't have to dress up or whatever for tonight, but you look beautiful."

"Thank you," you say. "I figured Soyeon was right. I should try and fit in with the crowd there."

"Are you ready to go?"

You nod. "Ready when you are, racer boy."

PART TWO COMING SOON!!

this might end up becoming a series so lmk how you guys like it!!

[heliads]

Hi friend! I love your writing and I was wondering if you were taking requests could you write a racetrack x reader oneshot where they’re not that close but they have both been secretly crushing on each other, and they finally admit it to each other after they have to do a project together? You can take it from there!

this is me, taking it from there

masterlist

There is no better gossip in Manhattan than the stuff Katherine Pulitzer brings to the table. Talking to her, you understand why no one in this godless city is able to turn her down for an interview, why no piece of information is ever far from her reach. She has ways of sinking her claws in you, pulling and tugging until you end up telling her your entire life story.

All this, and she’s still the best friend you could ever ask for. Katherine’s been busy as of late, the thrills of having a full time job that she loves, but you still make time for her whenever you can. Right now, the two of you are cloistered in a corner of the Manhattan newsies’ Lodging House, watching the sun sink beneath the horizon through a few cracked windows and keeping each other up to date on everything that’s happened since your last get together.

Katherine has her legs propped up on a table nearby, arms crossed as she surveys the scene. You swear she grows less and less ladylike every time she visits, although that’s surely due to no small share of influence on your part. You’re a wreck already, and you’re determined to drag her down with you. She loves it, you know that.

Jack Kelly has already joked a thousand times that the two of you could take over the whole of New York City if given three days and some cool weather, and you have no doubt that it’s true. That’s the best part of a good friend, you think, there’s nobody here who knows all the ways your brain clicks and whirs except Katherine.

Well, she doesn’t know one point of interest. See, Katherine is convinced that you’ve got a crush on somebody here, that surely you’ve set your heart on at least one of the newsboys. She’s trying to figure out who that potential suitor could be. Unfortunately, given her successful track record when it comes to figuring out stories, you’re fairly sure that she’s going to solve this problem soon enough.

You try to distract her anyway, on the off chance that it might work. “I don’t know why you’re so set on this whole idea. Why would I like anybody here?”

Katherine scoffs, eyes roving the packed Lodging House. “You, Y/N, live in a house full of cute boys who all but worship the ground on which you walk. There’s no way you don’t have a crush on at least one of them.”

You arch a brow. “That seems fake.”

Katherine gestures vaguely at herself. “It worked for me, didn’t it? Once upon a time, I was just like you. Stubborn, hardworking–”

You cut her off with a grin. “Utterly devoted to herself and not other newsboys?”

Katherine holds up a finger in agreement. “See, I thought that at first too, but look at me now. I found Jack and I’ve never looked back.”

You chuckle. “Just because you accidentally fell in love with the most infuriating boy you’d ever met doesn’t mean I’m going to do the same thing. What caused that, anyway? You two bantered one too many times and suddenly you thought he was your sun and stars? That sort of thing is totally absurd. Why would enemies ever fall in love?”

Katherine casts you a knowing look. “You’d be surprised, trust me. Besides, you’re missing one important fact: he was cute. Also, he has a heart bigger than this entire city. I didn’t realize that at first. Now, who’s your crush? I know there has to be one.”

You sigh. “Good luck on that front. I don’t like a single one of these boys like that.”

Katherine’s eyes spark. “Not even Race?”

You freeze, and although you force yourself to breathe normally as soon as you can, even your half second delay doesn’t go unnoticed. Damn Katherine and her eagle eyes.

“What? Race, what about him?” You say, doing your best to remain as innocent as possible.

It’s too late, though. Katherine knows. “Goodness, it is him, isn’t it? I knew it.”

Your eyes widen. “No you didn’t. You’re just lucky that you tossed out that name first.”

Katherine laughs. “I’ve known for weeks. You stare at him so much you’d think the boy was a priceless headline. It’s kind of cute.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks. “I’m glad you’re having a good time with this. Look, I don’t feel the same way about Race as you did about Jack. I’ve talked to Race maybe once since I started being a newsie. I just think he’s good looking, that’s all. The feeling will fade in another week.”

Katherine steeples her fingers together. “I’m willing to bet otherwise. All you need to do is get close to him. Just talk to the guy, okay? I swear it’ll be different then. You’ll be irrevocably in love.”

She clasps her hands to her chest in mock theatrics, and you shove her in the shoulder, making the other girl laugh. “Alright, alright, Juliet, you can cool it. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Katherine’s grin, though, is a little too knowing. It sets your suspicions racing. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” she says, and you can’t help but wonder what your friend’s got in mind.

It would be great if Katherine weren’t half so cunning, or half so connected to the leader of the Manhattan newsies. When a week comes and goes and suddenly Jack starts talking about how he wants everyone to settle into partners for selling papes, you smell a bad deal. Katherine’s got her hands in this, you can tell.

Your fears are confirmed when Jack calls for you and Race to work together. Supposedly, the ships coming in and out of a nearby harbor have changed, leading to a sudden influx of potential customers around the city blocks. Jack wants the two of you to work together to make sure you can handle all of the new arrivals. 

Although the explanation makes sense, it’s a strange partnership. This seems like an important opportunity, right? Jack is only having two people work together because he wants to make sure not a single visitor goes throughout their day without having been sold a paper or ten. Why, then, would he have you and Race be partners, especially when the two of you have never worked together before? You’re untested in the face of a grand opportunity. It makes no sense.

Or, it would make no sense, were it not for the fact that Katherine surely set you up. You don’t get a chance to see your friend for another couple of days due to some major deadlines on her end, so you won’t be able to confront her about this for a while. The only option you have, then, is to weather this storm and stay so close to your crush until this whole thing blows over.

Race is only half as surprised about this as you are. He whistles as the two of you walk over to the streets near the harbor, occasionally breaking up his melody to point out interesting things the two of you pass. He keeps glancing at you as if he expects you to take off running and abandon him for another friend, but when you don’t, his nerves seem to settle.

You were expecting this whole affair to be stilted and awkward, featuring you tripping over your own words as you try to act normally. You’re not used to being this close to Race; usually, he’s just out of reach, across the room or down a street. He’s a painting to you, a portrait of brilliance that has never been yours, not even to name or touch.

All of a sudden, he’s now feet away, within arm’s reach and looking at you for casual conversation. You didn’t realize his eyes would be this blue up close, nor that his smiles would come so easily for something you said. It’s almost unsettling to be so near him. Usually, you can hide your longing looks through distance, but here, you’re on display. 

Race can tell whenever you’re staring at him because he has nowhere else to look but at you. He certainly takes advantage of it, too– every time you’re unable to keep your eyes from straying to him a second longer, more often than not he’s already turned towards you. The two of you engage in the same immediate shift away, both of you pretending you weren’t looking at each other, but you repeat the same process soon enough. Away and back again, away and back. 

Halfway through the third day, Race says something quietly to you under the guise of rearranging the papers in his bag. “I’m glad Jack put us together.”

You glance up at him in surprise, although for once the boy refuses to meet your eyes. Apparently his papers require a serious amount of attention, because he can’t seem to drag his gaze away from them.

“What?” You ask, not sure if he was even talking to you.

Race’s face flushes a little, but he keeps going anyway. “For this assignment, I mean. We haven’t really spoken before this, and I didn’t know you all too well, but I feel like I know you now. I’m glad we got the chance to talk more often, I mean.”

You smile, and a moment later, Race looks up at last and smiles as well. “I’m glad he had us work together too. I’ve liked getting to know you.”

Race’s face brightens at that. “See, I felt the same way. Always knew you were cool, right? I just never got the chance to check it out for myself.”

You laugh. “We’ve been in the same house and in the same job for years. You’ve had plenty of chances.”

Race playfully shoves you with a free hand. “Rude. You could have done the same thing, you know. I’m not the only one with the ability to speak.”

“Ah, but I thought I’d give you the chance to be a gentleman,” you say, “I wanted to be nice.”

Race scoffs. “Oh, because all of us newsies are nothing but gentlemen. I know I’m incredibly handsome and all that, but I’se never claimed to have manners.”

You grin. “Does that save me from having to be a proper lady? It’s never fit me half as well as Katherine, I can admit that.”

Race frowns. “Of course it does. You know, every now and then I see the two of you walking together and I’m never sure if you’re one of her rich friends or not. Trust me, you’se as ladylike as they come.”

Your brow furrows. “I didn’t realize you saw us. Or paid enough attention to notice us, for that matter. Hell, before Jack put us together I didn’t think you even knew my name.”

Race’s eyes widen. “Why wouldn’t I know you? Y/N, sweetheart, I’m hurt. If I’d known you thought that little of me, I’d have introduced myself a lot earlier.”

You laugh. “You’re calling me ‘sweetheart’ now? You really are taking this gentleman thing to heart, I can see that now. I’m sorry to have ruined your image. Consider me proven wrong. You did pay attention to me.”

The corners of Race’s lips twitch up into a smile despite his best attempts to silence it. “All the time, sweetheart. Far more often than you thought, believe me.”

He glances again once he says it, and you realize that Race might have been keeping a more careful eye on you than you thought. It makes you smile.

“You wouldn’t be the only one looking,” you say carefully, “I saw you too. Just didn’t think you were seeing me.”

The two of you have been walking down the block, but Race stops all of a sudden, looking you straight on with an intensity you haven’t ever seen on him before.

“I saw you all the time,” he whispers, eyes a deeper blue than ever, “I still do. I don’t think I see anybody but you.”

Your breath catches in your chest. You’ve pictured this moment, or something like it, dozens of times in your head, but those were only fantasies. This, though, this is real, and suddenly you don’t know what to say. All of your imagined responses suddenly bleed dry.

Race’s gaze flicks to your lips, and suddenly you know the perfect answer. With the last bit of your courage dancing like sparks around your eyes, you lean forward and kiss him. You’re close enough that you can feel Race startle when you do, but then he’s kissing you back with enough force that it’s your turn to be surprised. How long has he been wanting this? Perhaps just as long as you.

When the two of you break away, Race’s forehead is tilted against yours, his breath soft on your cheeks. “That was certainly something, sweetheart. I’m beginning to think that I should have asked us to be selling partners a long time ago.”

You laugh quietly. “We still have plenty of time.”

And so you do. Today seems endless, next week a blessed eternity. You have all the time in the world to explore this love, and in the meantime, you need to set up an appointment with your best friend. You certainly have a good story to tell.

newsies tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @misguidedswagger, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie

[cutielando]

goals ~ oscar piastri

instagram au

synopsis: Oscar and Y/N's relationship is everyone's favorite, the fans saying they crave a relationship like theirs.

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

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yourusername life lately 🩷 tagged: oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri ❤️

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user3 it's amazing to see how much she supports him though

user4 i know, she's been with him for a long time. it’s cute to see how proud she is of him 🥹

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oscarpiastri back to work, always with me💗 tagged: yourusername

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yourusername always ❤️

oscarpiastri ❤️

landonorris wasn’t i third-wheeling enough during the break?

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landonorris …i don’t know

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user3 how long have they been together?

user2 close to 3 years. they are childhood best friends as far as i know

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logansargeant you never pay attention to me when she’s with you😭

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user6 they are goals 🥹🥹🥲

yourusername has added to their story

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caption: my outfit for today’s race 🧡

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yourusername proud doesn't even begin to describe how i feel 🧡 tagged: oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri you were my lucky charm, couldn't have done it without you 🧡

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pierregasly ...

oscarpiastri ...

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oscarpiastri we celebrated in style last night tagged: yourusername

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yourusername yes we did 🥵🥵

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mclaren you’re not making our job any easier, y/n - PR

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oscaaaaahpastry not y/n being scolded by McLaren 💀💀💀😭

lando.norrriiiiizzxxx imagine the PR nightmare she causes behind closed doors we don’t get to see 😭

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yourusername same

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maxverstappen1 🤐

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[f1daydreamers]

𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐑𝐮𝐧 [𝐌𝐕𝟏]

gif credits: @overtake

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being caught in the rain without an umbrella isn't fun, but when you're with Max? Fuck it.

Warnings: literally fluff and a tad bit of argumentative banter?

Word Count: 1.1k words (4 mins reading time avg)

…

As you set your glass down, Max straightened in his chair. There was a restless energy radiating from him, a clear sign that he was ready to leave.

"Finished?" He inquired with a subtle hum, and you responded with a silent nod.

With grace, you retrieved your bag from the ground, rising from your seat and tucking the chair neatly back in place. The waiter, ever vigilant, collected your empty plates, and you extended your gratitude with a smile.

As you both made your way toward the exit, you acknowledged the doorman with a gracious thank you, and he obligingly held the door open for you.

However, the moment you stepped out but still shaded by the awning above, the heavens burst open, drenching the world with an unrelenting downpour.

Goosebumps instantly formed on your arms, and you shivered, the chill creeping down your body.

Max shoved his wallet back into his jacket pocket, his gaze shifting to meet your eyes as your head turned in his direction.

"M, the umbrella," you mentioned casually, expectant in your tone.

Max quirked an eyebrow. "What umbrella?" Your head swiveled entirely to face him, a glimmer of hope that his apparent confusion was part of a playful ruse.

"Very funny," you muttered, attempting a strained grin.

"What's funny?" Max inquired, genuinely perplexed by your reaction.

With an audible sigh of exasperation, you pointed skyward for emphasis. "Max, you do know what an umbrella is right?"

"Babe, I don't know what umbrella you're talking about." Max's bewilderment was written all over his furrowed brows and the slight tilt of his head, as if an invisible umbrella had eluded his understanding.

You replied as calmly as you could, "what do you mean? The umbrella, our umbrella." Unfortunately, the perplexed expression on your boyfriend's face remained unchanged, and another gust of harsh wind ruffled your body.

"I didn't bring our umbrella," Max confessed, his brows furrowing as he patted down his jacket pockets, searching for the missing item.

You crossed your arms, a mix of irritation and disappointment etched across your face. "I told you to bring the umbrella."

Max's shoulders slumped, and he withdrew his hand from his pocket, his expression reflecting regret. "No, you said you were bringing the umbrella."

Your frustration gave way to a puzzled expression as you uncrossed your arms, "I said to bring the umbrella, not that I was bringing the umbrella."

There was a brief pause, during which Max's regretful expression slowly transformed into one of realisation. He replayed the conversation in his mind and finally spoke up.

"Oh, you did say that, didn't you?" He admitted with a sheepish grin, his hand absentmindedly rubbing his neck.

"Yeah," you replied with a sigh, deciding that there was no use in getting mad now.

Max took a step closer, draping his arm around your shoulder, and you couldn't help but smile at the small gesture of warmth it gave.

"We could get a taxi," you looked up at his suggestion and scoffed. "The apartment's literally down the road."

Looking around, you pursed your lips. "We can wait here for a bit, maybe the rain will let up."

Max nodded, and you leaned your head on his shoulder as he sqeezed his arm tighter around your body. But after a few minutes of waiting, the rain showed no signs of stopping, so you both exchanged a resigned look.

Max's lips curled into a grin as his hold on you loosened, pulling his jacket off of his arms and resting it on your shoulders.

"You know what, babe? Fuck it. Let's make a run for it."

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his sudden enthusiasm. "Are you insane?" Max wasn't one to refrain from sharing his weird and wonderful thoughts but this one kinda had you thinking a few screws had loosened.

His expression remained determined. "Come on. We can't stay here forever."

His proposal filled you with a mix of excitement and trepidation, but you'd be lying if you said he didn't have a point.

"Fine, but if I go down, I'm taking you with me." He smiled and extended his hand out to you.

"Deal." You chuckled, shaking his hand before he intertwined them together. As you both left the relative shelter of the awning, the relentless downpour immediately drenched you to the bone.

Your footsteps echoed through the empty, rain-slicked streets, a symphony of splashing and laughter in the otherwise silent night.

Max held your hand firmly, not letting go for a second, as if the strength of his grip could keep you both upright on the slippery pavement. His shirt stuck to his frame, and water streamed from the ends of his tousled hair.

Your clothes were heavy and clinging to your skin. Your laughter, mingling with Max's along with some curse words, echoed through the empty streets as you both raced toward your apartment complex.

By the time you reached the entrance of your apartment complex, Max pulled open the door and shut it quickly behind you.

Your hearts were racing, and you were both completely soaked. Water dripped from your hair, and you could feel it running down your skin.

Max let go of your hand, standing in the lobby of the building, panting and dripping wet. "Well, that was fun," Max said with a grin, his eyes light as he messed with his hair.

You couldn't help but smile back, your heart still pounding with exhilaration. “Yeah, fun."

With a shared chuckle, you both headed for the elevator, leaving a trail of raindrops behind you which the cleaner would probably resent you for in the morning.

He pressed the button for your floor, and the doors shut. The confined space felt cosy and intimate, and you couldn't help but meet Max's gaze with a knowing smile.

He brushed a strand of wet hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender, despite the fact that both of you were absolutely soaking.

His grin widened as you shivered, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. The taste of rainwater on your lips was sweet and refreshing, you smiled as he pulled away.

He didn't move far though, "you know," his whispering voice a little husky, "we should probably get out of these wet clothes."

You met his suggestion with a glint in your eyes. "You think? And whose idea was it to go running in the rain, hmm?"

Max laughed, a deep and hearty sound that filled the elevator. "Alright, alright, it was a team decision."

You hummed and he leaned in again, kissing you a couple more times as the elevator made its ascent.

When it finally reached your floor, you reluctantly pulled away from your boyfriend, knowing that you needed to get out and change into dry clothes.

"Next time, bring the umbrella please," you said, your smile lingering.

Max's eyes sparkled with mischief as he responded, "After that? I'm never bringing it again."

...

Masterlist

[dreamauri]

Floral Whimsy — Seb is drunk, and then he tries WWE finishing moves on her on a bed for fun!

‧˚⊹ 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗦𝗘𝗘 𝗠𝗘 ଓ :: 𝗦𝗩𝟱 ‧₊˚⤾   ─ ୨୧ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ :🪴: ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ୨୧ ─ ╮ ┇lI'm wheezing, this was such a good ┇idea and i thank you with my life. ( the fact that ┇I had to search up wwe finishers . . . )!! ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( sebastian vettel  x  wife! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( fluff )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 215 )  ╰ 🫧  :: ⁠ content warning — ( drunk seb )

"Seb." You tried to hold in your laugh as you watched your husband singing while circling you on the bed. "Seb, you're drunk." "Thy is a full moon tonight. We must celebrate." He replied in Shakespearian.

You had just finished fixing the light bulb above the bed and seb had returned from drinking with Kimi.

"Let's get ready to rumble!"

You weren't fast enough to dodge or brace for what came next. Seb lunged at you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He lifted you up easily, flipping back and landing on top of you.

You wheezed with a laugh as Seb landed on top of you, waving his hand in front of his face. "You cannot see me." "Seb, my love," You tried to get up again only for the German to execute the most perfect and smooth head scissors takedown. Sebastian even banged his fist counting down from 3 before standing up and crowning himself champion.

"Thank you, thank you. Si Raggazi!" You couldn't help but crack a laugh at the italian spilling from his tongue as he tied one of your belts around his waist pretending it was the title belt.

[loganshouseofworship]

Pink tulips a symbol of friendship — Logan Sargent x platonic!reader

Tagged — @amatswimming @bblouifford @disneyprincemuke @faithshouseofchaos @faithsotherhouseofchaos

Logan knew that you were having a tough week and as one of your longest-standing friends, he took it upon himself to make you feel better. On the way to your apartment, Logan stopped by the store and picked up some of your favorite snacks, ice cream, and drinks and continued with his mission.

Halfway through his journey to your apartment, he made one stop it wasn’t planned but he saw the florist stand from the corner of his eye and thought fuck it.

Looking at the selection of flowers his eyes saw a pretty Bouquet of pink tulips. Logan remembered you saying that tulips were a symbol of friendship.

“I would like these,” Logan said, picking out the pink tulips and handing the florist the money.

“Great choice,” the florist said. And with that Logan was back on track.

Once at your place, Logan knocked firmly on your apartment door. Hearing your footsteps making their way down the stairs, he grew a smile and waited. Once the door opened he extended both hands with the bouquet in one and the takeout bag in the other.

“Hey, you.”

He smirked softly seeing you, hoping that maybe this would cheer you up at least a bit.

“Hi.” You said letting Logan in your apartment

"I brought you flowers," Logan said smiling

"for what?" You asked confused

"There has to be a reason?" Logan questioned.

“You didn't have to do this.” You said taking the flowers from him to admire them.

“I know I didn’t but I wanted to.” Logan replied, handing over the shopping bag “I also brought you some of your favorite food and drinks, and also grabbed an ice cream for myself.”

He had grabbed enough to feed both of you, he figured that after what you’ve been through, you didn’t deserve to eat alone.

“I figured a fun night would help, maybe watching a funny movie.” He said smiling, waiting for you to step aside so he could come in.

“The tulips were specially for you.” He laughed “I mean I don’t know who else these are for.” He chuckled again, “Besides I figured, I could just use them as an excuse to see you.” His smirk grew to a grin “Plus I figured you probably need some cheering up, I know I’ve been a while so no hard feelings if you tell me to leave.”

“No, of course not.” You replied, your face growing a warm smile at how thoughtful your best friend was.

“You’re truly something,” you said hugging him tightly

“I’ll grab some plates and stuff.” Logan replied, breaking the hug as he took it as a sign to start getting everything ready. “You just go ahead and sit down.”

He gave you a gentle push toward the table, you did as asked and then sat down.

Logan went over to the kitchen area, placing the plates and napkins on the table as he started setting up all the food. It looked quite extravagant, especially for just the two of you.

Once everything was done, he poured two glasses of the wine he had bought, before he sat down opposite you.

“To friends.” He looked at you as he brought the glass up to his lips and took a sip. “To better days.”

The two of you had a wonderful night, a night that was full of laughter and banter. It had even helped lift the depressing mood you’d been in. A smile had been permanent on your face ever since the moment Logan walked through the door, with his thoughtful gifts. He truly was a good friend.

[sports-on-sundays]

our tree / CL16

Summary: Charles x childhood friend!reader - Another little idea.

Warnings: four time skips, little kiss scene, kind of melancholy at the end

Requested?: Take a wild guess.

Author's Note: I hope you read and enjoy, because I'm super proud of this one! 🥹🥹🥹. I actually think I was reading a fantasy book when this one came on me strangely enough.

"Alright, well, make sure to stay together! And stay in the orchard!" your mother called as you and your friend rushed out the door, running to get out the moment your mother said it was okay.

"Okay, Mama!" you called back, slamming the screen door behind you. You and your friend, a light haired boy with bright eyes and the name of Charles, ran together, racing each other automatically, without even establishing it, both of you just being very competitive kids.

Yes, Charles was a competitive kid, alright. Everyone knew that much. Definitely probably more competitive than you, but that wasn't very hard. Charles was more competitive than most people.

The young boy was running so fast, trying to beat you, that he tripped, falling right on his little chubby face. "Charlie!" you gasped, bending down next to your friend. But then you scolded, "Charlie, you gotta be more careful. Remember what Mama told us?"

Charles looked up slowly. He had a little scratch on his cheek and a mark of dirt across his forehead. His bottom lip curved forward for a moment, before he sucked it back, sniffing, refusing to cry. "I'm okay," he assured, pushing himself back up to stand.

"Are you sure?" you asked nervously.

"Of course," the little boy said, brushing himself off, still pouting a little. But he raised his hand to wipe his eyes and continued on.

You frowned. "Your knees are all scraped up. Maybe we should go back to the house..."

"No!" Charles frowned right back. "Come on. I'm okay." He showed his little toothy grin, which wasn't full, as he had a few gaps in his mouth where adult teeth would soon grow in. He held his hand out to you.

You took his little hand in your little hand and said with a little pout, "As long as we just walk now."

"You sound like my mama now!" he groaned, but agreed to it.

The two little kids walked along, until they reached the bottom of the hill that your house stood on and got to the little dirt path that led through the apple trees.

"Can I show my favorite tree, Charlie?"

His tiny little cute nose crinkled up as he asked, "How could you have a- a fav- favorite tree?" At that point, you were much more fluent in your speech than Charles, so some of the bigger words you could say just fine, he struggled with.

You grinned. "Come with me, and I'll show you." You tugged him by his hand, leading him through the orchard, until finally, you reached your tree.

It was tall with spindly dark branches and the biggest, reddest, juiciest apples you'd ever seen. There was a little crevice under it where you fit perfectly, and it's old frame provided a large area of shade.

It felt like a magical tree, and as Charles's big hazel eyes looked up at it, you could tell he saw it, too.

"Can I have an apple off it?" the young boy asked boldly.

You nodded and went to the truck, being, at that time, the taller of the two of you. You slipped your foot in the perfect slot in the tree and hoisted yourself up. You climbed a bit as Charles watched you, picked a big, red, ripe apple out of the tree, and tossed it down to Charles. He caught it and was about to take a big bite out of it, before you said, "Wait a second, Charlie!"

He looked up. "Huh?"

You climbed back down and hopped on the ground, grinning. "Do you know how to clean an apple? Make it super shiny?"

Charles frowned, perplexed. "Without water? No."

You grinned proudly and rubbed your apple on your shirt all around, saying, "It works."

He stared a few seconds, before trying it. "I don't know..." he began, studying the apple.

"Either way, it makes it taste better. That's what my papa told me."

"Alright... can I eat it now?"

You giggled and nodded. "Yeah."

You watched as he took a bite out of it, and his eyes lit up. Apple juice ran down his chin as he exclaimed, "You're right! This is the best apple ever."

You grinned. "See? It's my favorite tree."

He beamed back. "It's mine, too," he responded, avoiding having to say 'favorite' again.

About ten years later

"Y/n!" your mother had called one day from the downstairs floor. "Charles is here!"

You hopped out of your bed as soon as you heard that, slipping on your vest, boots, and backwards cap, before heading down the stairs and went to the door.

There was Charles. You couldn't help but smile when you saw the handsome teenage boy, with his dimples and sparkling eyes. "Hey, Charles. It's been a while."

He shrugged a bit. "I've been really busy with racing and stuff..."

He awkwardly glanced away, so you asked, "Well, do you want to go for a walk in the orchard? I mean, if you have time, of course."

He smiled brightly at that. "Yeah. I'd like that."

You exited the house together, letting the screen door slam behind you. You walked down the hill in silence, but once your feet reached the dirt path through the apple trees, Charles muttered, "I've kind of missed you, a lot. And this orchard. I mean, I don't know. As kids, we used to always play in this orchard. We spent hours here. You know?"

You nod slowly. "Yeah, I get what you mean. Totally... Sometimes, I'm sad I'm growing up. Like, I remember when we were little, and nothing was weird and it all felt normal. We were just happy to have fun."

Charles nodded, seeming slightly relieved that you seemed to think the same way as him. "Yeah. I feel the same way."

As you walked, suddenly your hands brushed each other, and both of you felt your faces heat up as you avoided each other's eyes and were more aware to keep your hands to yourselves.

"So... Is your favorite tree still standing?" Charles asked softly.

You grinned. "Of course it is. Charles, that tree will never fall."

He grinned back at this response and said, "So I'm assuming the apples are still good as ever?"

"For sure. Want one? We can go down to it."

Charles grinned even wider at this and said, "Yeah, let's go."

When you reached the tree, you stood on your tip toes, trying to reach an apple to pick for Charles, but suddenly he laughed, saying teasingly, "Here, I'll get it." He grinned and reached up, easily picking the apple. He looked down at you with a smirk. "Now I'm taller than you, huh? You used to be the taller one."

You rolled your eyes. "Charles, boys always get taller than girls in the end."

He shrugged and commented teasingly, "Should I rub it on my shirt? Does that clean it off?"

You blushed, glancing away, feeling embarrassed butterflies in your stomach at his little teasing. "No, no. That's just a stupid little thing."

He chuckled more and took a bite, shutting his eyes, savoring the sweet taste. "Just as good as I remember it," he commented with a grin.

You smiled, kind of nervous to ask this, but said softly, "Uh... Can you pick one for me?"

He grinned. He loved to be able to help you, and immediately picked one for you. You stood by the big tree, eating your apples, before Charles finally said, sounding more tense than before, "Hey, uh... Y/n? Can I say something kind of weird to you? Like, I mean, serious stuff, now..."

You blinked, looking up at him with a concerned look in your eyes. "What is it?"

He sighed and gestured for you to sit down under the tree together. So you sat side by side in the shade, and he murmured, "So... I just wanted to say sorry."

"For what?" you asked in surprise.

"I don't know. With all my racing, we never get to see each other anymore. But I think about you a lot..." He trailed off, avoiding your eyes as his cheeks flushed. "Like, you're on my mind a lot, I mean."

You nod slowly. "I think about you a lot, too..."

He swallowed and muttered, "I know this probably won't mean much in the end, but... I think I kind of like you."

Your head shot up, your eyes wide. "You... Like, like like?"

"Yeah. Like, really like. A lot. More than..."

"More than friends?"

"More than friends," he confirmed, nervously fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie.

You glanced up at each other at the same time. And Charles, without another thought, leaned in and gave you an awkward kiss on your cheek.

Your whole faces flushed as Charles blurted, "Sor- Sorry."

"It's... It's okay," you murmured in embarrassment. "I feel the same way, too, I think..."

About ten years later; current time

Your mother slams open the screen door with a big smile on her face, saying, "What a surprise this is! Look at this- my daughter and son-in-law!"

Charles chuckles a bit, letting go of your hand as you go to hug your mother as he says, "Not son-in-law yet."

"Yes, yes, Charles," your mother says quickly, as if it's clearly obvious the two of you are going to marry each other anyway, so he's basically already her son-in-law. "So," she turns to you with a big smile. "What made you decide to just show up all of the sudden?"

You shrug with a smile, looking back to Charles. After hugging your mother, you connect your hand right away back with Charles's. "The other night we were just kind of thinking about, you know. The old days. Playing in the orchard. And my favorite tree, and everything. And we figured, why not make the trip here to go for a walk through it again?"

"Oh, and not even to see your mother!" she scoffs with a playful smile, saying, "Come here, Charles. I haven't seen you in quite a while." Charles laughs and gives your mother a little hug as well.

"Mama," you say with a little smile. "Do you mind if me and Charles just go for a walk in the orchard? Then we'll be right back to the house to visit?"

She smiles understandingly, and nods. "Yeah, you two go on. And take your time," she says with a wink, "because maybe once you get back, the apple pie I'm making will be ready."

You grin and say, "Let's go! Your pie is the best!"

Charles laughs, entwining his fingers in yours, saying, "Thank you, Mrs. Y/l/n. We'll see you in a bit." He waves as we begin walking down the hill together, swinging our connected hands a little as we walk.

It has rained recently, though, so the ground down the hill is a little slick. So suddenly, your foot slides forward, and you squeal, bracing yourself to feel your bottom hit the ground hard-

But Charles's hands are there, on your back and the bottoms of your thighs. He says with a chuckle, "I've got you." He pulls you up and links his arm with you to steady you more as you finish walking down the hill.

When you make it to the path, neither of you guide the other toward your tree, because now, after all these years, you both know exactly how to get there.

You're not sure when 'Y/n's tree' became 'Y/n and Charles's tree', but either way, you like that it's kind of like both of yours now.

When you reach it, Charles immediately reaches up to pick out two of the best apples on the tree. You sit down together under the shade, not caring if your bums get a little wet, and Charles eyes you teasingly as he begins rubbing it on his shirt.

You chuckle. "It does make it more shiny."

"Rubs the dirt off," he comments, taking a bite out of it.

You sit together, eating your apples. Charles has his arm around your back, and you lean against his shoulder. Once you're both finished, Charles comments, "Taste of my childhood."

You grin. "It's just an apple."

"No, but the apples from our magical tree don't just taste like any ordinary apples, and you've always known that."

You chuckle a little. "Good point." You love that little childish side of him.

After a few moment of silence, Charles says softly, "Do you think we have a few minutes to spare before we start walking back up to the house for some of that apple pie?"

You shrug. "Probably. Why?"

He leans in closer and says softly, "Because I wouldn't mind licking some of that apple juice off your sweet lips."

You giggle a little, rolling your eyes, but shift closer to him.

With one hand caressing your cheek and the other gripping the nape of your neck, pulling you in closer, he presses his lips against yours in a heated French kiss. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth. When he finally pulls away, there's a hungry look in his eyes, and he doesn't even seem to realize the string of saliva connecting your mouths.

You let out a little breathy gasp, murmuring (and admittedly probably ruining the moment a bit), "Ew..." as you wipe your mouth to break the trail of saliva between the two of you.

He chuckles a bit and murmurs, "You're adorable. You know that? I just want to have you all to myself. Do what I want to do to y-"

"Hey, hey..." you giggle, patting his thigh a little. "Can't get too carried away, can we? We've got pie to get to eating inside."

"Right," he smiles, taking your hand and standing up with you.

"But maybe when we get home. How does that sound?"

He nods, bringing you closer to himself. "That sounds good. I look forward to it."

About ten years later (warning: just chose a random name for the girl)

You slam open the screen door, holding your little toddler in your arms, saying, "Say bye bye to Grandmama."

Your mother laughs as your daughter waves her chubby little fist and says, "Bye, bye, G'andmama..."

You walk outside onto the porch, where Charles is already standing, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking out at the orchard.

You smile, putting a hand on his back. "Want to take Viola out for a walk in the orchard? Would you like that, sweetie?" you add, looking to the little girl.

"Yes!" squeals the baby, squirming to be put down.

You set her down on the porch, and Charles takes her little hand with a smile. You take her other hand, and the three of you begin walking down the hill together.

Halfway down, Viola slips, but both your hands holding hers keeps her from falling. Charles chuckles and says, "Be careful, sweetheart."

She just giggles, tugging her parents toward the little dirt path at the bottom of the hill. When you reach the bottom, Charles says gently, "Want to see me and Mama's favorite tree, Viola? It grows the best apples in the world."

You laugh as your daughter looks up at her father with big, wide hazel eyes- same as her father's. "The best?"

"Oh, yeah. You won't want to eat any other apples, ever again, after you try these."

You smile. "I grabbed a knife before we left to cut it up for her."

Charles smiles, giving you a little kiss on your cheek as you hand him the knife. "Good idea. You're so thoughtful. And considerable. I wouldn't ever had thought to do that."

"Mama! Papa! C'mon!" your baby whines, and you both laugh, following the toddling little girl down the little dirt path of both your childhoods.

When you reach the tree, this time, Charles reaches up and picks three apples. "It's kind of a magical tree, isn't it, Viola?" he asks with a little smile as he hands you an apple.

But she doesn't respond, and instead stares at Charles in slightly disturbed confusion.

You chuckle, looking to see Charles rubbing the apple on his shirt. He laughs and explains, "It makes the apple shiny, Viola."

"Really?" she asks with wide eyes.

"For sure," Charles respond, exchanging a little look with you. Then you and Charles sit down together under the tree, and your daughter comes over and climbs on Charles's lap, watching as he cuts some thin slices off Viola's apple. "Here," he says, handing one to the little girl.

Her eyes widen even further when she tastes the sweet fruit, and she giggles, "The best!"

"I know!" Charles grins excited, ruffling her hair a bit, which is the color of your hair.

You smile, leaning against his shoulder, watching as your daughter in his lap raves and giggles about the apple.

And, then, Charles starts talking.

He talks about how he used to play with you all the time when you were little.

He tells his daughter how when he was a younger teenager, he began to fall in love with you, but with all his racing, he couldn't see you much and come to the orchard.

He tells her how when he was an older teenager, he confessed how he felt to you.

And how after that, you and him got closer and closer.

Until years later, you had your wedding.

And now here she is, your little girl.

You swallow, suddenly feeling emotional about the story. The story of your lives together.

"Papa...?" Viola says, concerned. "How come Mama...?" she trails off.

Charles looks at you and smiles. "Are you crying, baby?" he teases softly, wiping a tear from your cheek.

You chuckle. "I guess I just like to hear you telling the story."

He chuckles and kisses your cheek, murmuring, "I love you."

You lean into him further with a little smile and shut your eyes, listening as Charles and your daughter continue babbling softly with each other.

Here, in the shade of your tree.

Our tree.

Someday, your daughter will show her friends your tree. And that screen door will never stopped being slammed shut.

But someday after that, you and Charles will grow older, together. Your tree won't always be there. Someday, you'll eat the last of it's apples, and it will say farewell to this world, just like everything else does.

But by then, your love won't need something to symbolize it in order to stay alive.

Because love is the one thing that will never end.

It goes on forever.