#fastest car ever made | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tokkiwrites · 3 months

Text

┈─ 𖧷 Dirty Diana 🍷

ㅡㅡㅡ in which you want to surprise your dad with his favorite band tickets. you're really lucky when you stumble upon the lead guitarist, Joel Miller, at your local grocery store. things escalate- but you do get those tickets.

★ ͘rockstar!joel miller, fem!reader, dom joel, sub reader, afab reader, p in v sex unprotected, rough joel, age gap, dumbification of reader, hair pulling, slapping, head m and f receiving, creampie, kind of size kink if u tilt your head, joel has tattoos and a piercings (yummy), sir kink, almost pet play, lots of pet names. drinking, mentions of cheating. lmk if i missed any!!!! (pic in the banner doesn't describe readers body!! there for the aesthetics) not proofread

you've never been a rock fan. sure, you'd enjoy listening to the songs your dad played on your 3 hour long car rides, the ones he always sets as his ring-tone...

but you were in a dilemma nowㅡ there's a giveaway of sorts with tickets to your dad's most favorite band from the early 90's, but to even have a chance at those tickets you need to submit a video of yourself singing one of their songs.

now you would ask your dad, but the first thing that made you this set on getting those tickets was surprising him with them on his upcoming birthday. you'd buy them, but they're either sold out or 200 bucks on shady sitesㅡ and you're a broke college student on winter break.

you sigh, closing your laptop and throwing it on the other side of the bed. you stare up at the ceiling, counting the little neon stars you've had there since you were 10. they always calmed youㅡ made your brain less foggy, even for just a few seconds.

groaning, you throw your legs around, frustrated and disappointed in yourself. this would've really made his worries slip away, for a bit, after what happened with your mom. you still can't wrap your head around why your mom chose her exceeding in nothing, 2 palms of receding hairline co-worker. i mean, he was richㅡ super fucking rich, but was it worth it? your dad didn't deserve it.

you wipe the tears you've just now realized were dripping down your face. "i need something to drink." sniffling, you put on your plush jacket, get some slippers , and spray on some perfume. "at least need to smell presentable if i look likeㅡ" you stare into the mirror, laughing to yourself, "that."

you stroll out of your house and down the street. you were lucky for the grocery store just about 7 minutes away, give or take. it wasn't that small but it wasn't big either, at least not big enough so that you learned form a young age where all of your favorite iles were.

"Hi, Miss Sammy!" you greet the cashier, an old friend of the family and sort of an aunt to youㅡ you remember when she'd let you stay after school in the back of the store up until 5 pm, when your dad came to pick you up. "Hi, honey! How's winter break treating you?"

"'s fine... I'm glad to be back home with dad." you smile and her gaze softened. "Well if you ever need anythin', you let me know sugar, mkay?" you nod, walking to the furthest part of the store, where all of the drinks were. you look around, trying to find the cheapest thing that can get you dizzy the fastest. really deep in your mind you failed to notice someone coming up to your side, breaking the silence.

"Rough day?" you jump, taking one step back before you turn around to see who it was.

"Yeah, you could say thaㅡ wait." you pause. holy shit. you couldn't believe your eyes. "I know you! You're thㅡ" he presses his fingers agains your lips, and oh, it sends a shiver down your back. "quiet down, darlin'."

you nod, whispers-yelling, "You're Joel Miller, right?" he sighs, smiling at your question, and your eyes light up. this is perfect, so, so perfect. "My dad loves you guysㅡ you and your band."

"that so?" your arms flare up, smiling so big. "you've no idea! 's why i was so excited to hear about you coming to town. Wanted to surprise him."

"wanted?" Joel quirks his eyebrows up, his voice dropping an octave. "Yeah, well, i found out pretty late about it and - well, they're super expensive now, as you'd imagine.." You sigh, turning back to look at the bottles catching the white light of the room. "jus' wanted to give him something to be happy about, you know?" You reach out to grab a 16$ bottle of wine you know is too sweet, but it'll do. trying to lift the mood, you try your hand at a joke. "guess my only option is to fuck somebody who has those tickets." you look at him and his brows are furrowed. stupid, stupid, stupid joke, stupid you.

"so-rry, didn't mean toㅡ"

"that so, pretty girl?" Those words go straight to your core, causing you to nip at your bottom lip, stiff like a stone. "Now, you can't just say somethin' like thatㅡ" Joel leans in closer "'n not answer me."

you look up at him, and you finally get a better look. there aren't many pictures of him close up on the internet, mostly grainy ones where you can barely make out his tattoos. you gulp, eyes traveling across his face: a brow piercing, a full beard with patches of gray, a neck tattoo with a ravenㅡ he looked surreal.

"y'gonna answer me, angel-face? or do i need to pull out those words myself?" god, you were practically dripping on the linoleum of the store, cheeks ablaze and words tangled in your throat.

"I'm ㅡ" he traces his inked fingers across the exposed part of your neck, chuckling at your demeanor. "I live 5 minutes away." you blurt out, causing his eyes to widen. "maybeㅡ come over?" god, what were you doing? you sure hope not to regret your words later. but right now, two things you knew for certain: you were way too turned on, and he was way too hot for his age.

Joel smirks, his fingers lingering on your skin. "Well, darlin', seems like fate's on your side today." He grabs the bottle of wine you were holding, examining it. "I ain't lettin' you drink that, girl." he scoffs, picking up a bottle of Giulio Ferrari from 1992, not even looking at the price. "Let me spoil you a bit, yeah." you can't even say a word, you pathetically whine, as your knees wobble like jelly.

Joel puts the hoodie over his head and looks down at you, his firey stare making your cheeks burn up all over again. "y'know the lady?" he asks, motioning his head towards Sammy who was busy playing Rummy on her phone. "I do, old familyㅡ well, like family." He nods, patting your shoulder, "you go ahead, wait f'me in front of the store by that coffee machine. I'mma pay real quick, yeah?" you nod so fast, way too excited with those butterflies tying knots in your stomach, you head to the door.

"Bye, Miss Sammy!" you wave, and she just hums and gives half of a wave back "buh-bye, sugar." too fixed on her phone. As Joel pays for the bottle of wine, he glances back at you exiting the store.

"Lead the way, darlin'. Let's see if we can work something out." and oh, the way those words make you drip in anticipation. the way you were so eager to have his hands all over your body- those tickets were the last thing on your mind right now. You both head towards your house, the cold air adding a sense of urgency to the situation. You couldn't believe how needy he made you with just a few words. Small talk fills the short journey, with Joel sharing stories from the road and you nervously responding.

Once inside your home, Joel looks around appreciatively. "Cozy place you got here." you nod, leading him to the kitchen. "your daddy home?"

"no.." you fumble your steps as you hurriedly put two glasses on the counter for Joel to fill up with wine. Joel smirks, sensing the tension in the air. "Just us, then," he says, pouring the wine into the glasses. The rich aroma of the aged wine fills the room as he hands you a glass. "Cheers to unexpected encounters," he toasts, clinking glasses with you. The wine is exquisite, but the real intoxication is the electrifying presence of Joel. Tattoos adorned his body, his fluffy hair laid perfectly, strands of gray standing out; the way his muscles bulged through his shirtㅡ you could see it all better now.

"feels like you're about to eat me, baby. way you're starin' me down." joel chuckles. "sorry I'mㅡ sorry." you nervously sip from you glass trying to put out the fire in your core, his voice making it ten times harder for you. "now, how you gonna get what you want if you get so shy on me, hm?"

joel steps closer to you, and your chest burns, heaving up and down as his arms snake around your waist and settle onto your tummy. "ain't you a big girl? thought you were- how you so eagerly invited such an old man into your home when your daddy ain't around." he rubs through you, a squeaky whimper slipping past your lips as you felt his bulge against you. "oh, she likes that, don't she?" you breathe out "god.."

"not god, baby..jus' me." he chuckles murkily.

"please..." you plead, palms now on top of his as you slowly turn your head to expose your neck further. "please what, babygirl?"

"please, sir..t-touch me." you back your body further, prompting joel to groan and tighten his grasp on you. "jesus, girl." he laughs "dirty little thing." his rough hands make their way under your lace trimmed long-sleeve, grasping at you breasts.

"no bra, baby?" he asks, swirling his thumbs across your sprung up nipples, and you moan a quiet 'no'. "what if your daddy walks through that door right now, huh?"

"dont care..." you lean more into his touch, intoxicated from it and his scent, a hint of smoky wood, and a touch of muskㅡ he smelled delicious. you couldn't wait to have him on your tongue.

"'course you don't. needy little whore wants an old man to fuck her senselessㅡ need me to fill ya up with this cock til you're dumb and can't think no more." you moan, so eagerly shaking your head as you press your ass onto his hard-on, getting joel to wrap his thick fingers around your throat and spin you around to face him. "not so fast, girl. wanna see ya beg, can you do that f'me angel?" his graps grow rougher, and you mewl out a string of yes, yes, yes, whilst dropping to your knees, as he instructs

"eyes up, babyㅡ there she is." joel strokes your face before delivering a harsh slap onto your already red cheek. moaning, you rub your thighs together as to evade just a bit of pressure in your cunt. "pretty little slut. so pretty like this." he growls, taking a handful of your hair "go on now. beg. tell sir how bad you need his cock."

and you do. you beg and plead, press your face against his thigh like a little puppy. you don't take you eyes off of his, prompting yourself with his boot under your clothed cunt. "please, sir.. v'been so good..." and you start moving slowly, cheek now flush against his crotch. you moan and rut against him, heat washing over your whole body. you wanted to make him proud, you dont know what came over youㅡ you were so drunken and you didn't know if it was because of the wine or because of joel.

the way he stared down at you, his pupils almost like an eclipse to his hazel eyes, lips half hidden behind his mustache. The way his piercing gaze holds yours, unwavering and commanding; he was rough and enticing, mean in just the right wayㅡ his voice dripped like honey and you couldn't hold but lick it up and let it poison you through and through.

"atta girl." you looked so vulnerable. so innocent. so raw and ready for him to taint and infect you with his all. he unbuckled his pants, leaving them a bit open at the top, perfectly for you to see the strain his thick cock put onto his briefs. "c'mon. don't make me wait, baby..." you didn't need to hear more, eagerly pulling out his erect length, letting it slap onto his clothed belly. you could drool at the sight, all though you're pretty sure you already were. he was bigㅡ huge even, the biggest you've ever seen. it was girthy and had veins running down it, tip red, dripping with precum. "too b-big-" you manage to let out. "you'll make it fit, puppy. for me, yeah? c'mon, let me fuck that pretty mouth." and you softly reply with 'yes, sir' before he yanks at your hair and directs his dick right between your lips. "open. widee openㅡ there you go." he encourages you as you try your best to fit that monster into your mouth. it hurts and your chin stings as joel slowly stars to thrust his length into you mouth- or at list what fits of it.

"pretty slut. look so good with her mouth full of cock." joel hums as you whine around him. "like this cock, baby?" he knows you can't answer, mouth too full and brain to fuzzy. "so cock stupid, can't even speak." he laughs. you've never felt like this, god, not even imagined something like this. yet there you were with someone who's twice your age fucking your mouth. "what would your daddy say?" you whine and squeeze around nothing, nails digging into the back of his knees. joel can only laugh as he puls out, rubbing his tip over your lips to collect the drool that mixed with his precum, and smear it all over your rosy cheeks.

you felt so dirty. but it felt rightㅡ for a good cause, right?

he slaps your face with his length before pulling you up by your hair, bending you over the kitchen counter. "gonna let me fuck you, babygirl?"

"yes-" you wriggle into his hold. "yes, what?" hes prying "yes, sir." you obediently reply. "good fuckin' pup." he doesn't even haltㅡ joel pulls down your pants at once with your panties. he delivers a harsh slap before trailing his digits right between your legs. "poor lil' cunt. look at 'er." he coos. "crying for this cock."

"please, sirㅡ mmhg.." whining, you try to rub yourself onto his fingers, but he quickly slaps you again, this time on the side of your thigh. "don't be a greedy bitch. you take what i give you, understand?"

"y-yes, sir, pleaseㅡ" he clicks his tongue before kneeling, spreading your pussy lips as he does, leaning in and blowing onto your sensitive clit. you jump and moan in frustration. "i know, baby, i know." he spreads your legs further, finally landing a soft and teasing lick between your folds. it doesn't take long for joel to go at it, sucking and licking at your cunt like theres no tomorrow, your desperate pleads to come only fueling him. "not yet, angel-baby." he gorans, picking himself up. "want you to come 'round my cock. want you to come while i stuff you up nice 'n good." you nod, not even half sure what you heard, you were too dizzy and the sudden lack of stimulation drove you mad.

joel positions himself behind you, lifting your leg up so one of your knees rests onto the counter. he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, wanting to pull more from you, to get you even needful. you couldn't barely muster to hold yourself up, letting all of your weight on Joel, deprived pleads rolling of your tongue.

when he's content with the teasing, he starts to ease into you. it's like you're awakened from a trance, fully aware of everything, and every fiber of your body. it all vibrates as a sting spreads through your body, and you squeeze around Joel. "fuckkㅡ so fuckin' tight, baby- I'd think were a virgin if i didn't know what a cock slut you actually are." he laughs somberly before plunging straight into you. your tongue luls out, tears on the brink of your eyes as you cand only squeal out pathetic moans and incoherent blathers. "shitㅡ ! squeezing me so good, baby"

and he goes at you, diving deeper and deeper with each hit of his hips, one palm holding your leg up and one pressing you face flush on the cold surface of the counter. "like that? like it when an old man has his way with ya, huh?" you can't hear him, you barely make out his words; your eyes roll back and spine arched as he plummets into your cunt. "fucked you stupid, huh? dirty girl." joel snickers, feeling your walls squeeze around him as he takes one of your palms and places it right on top of your belly. "feel." and, fuck, you feel. his cock reaches so far into you it bulges through your pelvis; you feel it and you're jelly all over again.

he takes both his arms and hold you by your shoulders, hit after hit after hit sending you deeper into oblivionㅡ and you can only moan and cry as you feel your orgasm approaching. desperately, you clench around his cock, sending joel into a frenzy. "wanna come, pup? tell me." he's stern and rough with his request. "hhhaㅡ y-yes, plea-se..." you don't know if you're crying because you feel too good or because of how desperately you need to come.

"come then, make me proud, baby." you writhe as the knots in your core begin to untie, shaking under joel whilst it hits you like a wave of warmth and frost at once. it doesn't take long for him to reach his limit, digging his nails through your thighs, gritting his teeth as he leaves bruises onto you, you wish would never go away.

"need'a come babyㅡ shit! where, tell me where baby." you feel him so deep, you're drunk on him, vision blurry and mind fogged up. you usually don't say this. "in-side- inside, sir, please.." you beg, and you don't wait more than two more seconds as joel spills his warm seed into you, causing you to lick your lips as if you could taste it. Joel holds himself over you, panting as he trails soft kisses onto your back. "did so good, babygirl." you smile stupidly, rolling your hips against his.

"soㅡ" he makes a pause. "you still want those tickets?"

⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 hoohououiuoooio hi guys im kind of pretty obsessed with joel rn so i gotta quench my thirst. this has 3.1k words. hope u like it!! muahhhh thank u again for 150!!!! if u see any grammatical errors no u didn't.

#joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #joel miller fic

421 notes · View notes

strangemagicc · 21 days

Text

Nobody Has to Know | Chapter Two

masterlist | <prev | next>

pairings: modern!brother’s best friend!Eddie x fem!Reader

summary: the next morning Eddie is adamant about ignoring you but that only lasts so long

author’s note: I think this is the longest chapter for anything I’ve ever written and I enjoyed writing it so much. There’s just something about Eddie lately. I hope you enjoy sweetness because next chapter will be a little sour 🖤 comments/reblogs and feedback is always so appreciated ! I want to hear from you 🫶🏻

w/c: 9.4k

warnings: cheating (technically not reader or Eddie), smut - oral (reader and Eddie receiving), fingering, discussions of trauma/injuries relating to a car accident

“Oh shit!”

Eddie could hear your worry as he rounded the corner. His heavy boots loud against the plastic tiled floor catching your attention.

The fear was vibrant in your eyes when you turned to him, a quiet cry for help and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene.

The kettle in the popcorn machine was overfilled, smoke billowing from behind the glass doors as you stared in horror.

Charred pieces of popcorn fell into the vat, the burnt smell wafted around you and filled the air.

“Way to go Little Lipton,” he laughed and moved around you to turn off the machine.

“Alright,” he sighed heavily, “this one is going to be out of commission for a bit so we’ll need to make sure that one is always prepped with fresh kernels,” he tilted his chin to the only other popcorn machine and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Out of commission?” Your voice rose an octave, face twisted in horror. His words raising alarm.

“Yeah,” he laughed as though his next words were obvious.

“We have to clean this one before we use it or all the other batches are going to taste like shit and that’s not the easiest or fastest task.”

“He’s going to kill me,” you groaned and dropped your head.

He being your manager and a major pain in your ass since the day you started working here. He wanted things a certain way; candies lined in a specific direction, cups displayed for the customers to see, popcorn made to perfection and not burnt until it turned to dust.

“Probably not kill, just maim,” Eddie shrugged with a crooked grin and stared down at you with amusement as you collected your thoughts.

“You never told me what to do if I burnt the kernels,” you abruptly looked up at him and swatted at his arm playfully.

“That’s because I told you not to overfill the kettle and never thought you’d ignore that tidbit,” he sighed dramatically, “guess that’s what I get for thinking.”

Reflexively he moved out of arm’s reach before you could do any serious damage.

Eddie enjoyed the way your lower lip jutted out, the way your forehead creased between your eyebrows when you were mad and fuck, were you pissed.

It had been nearly two weeks since you started working at Hawk Theater, trying to save up for the new camcorder you’d been eying, and Eddie had been assigned to train you.

Or his form of training which was a lot of “this is how they want us to do it but this is what works.”

The problem was that you’d been distracted.

It was the way his smile lifted to the side and the way he tied his long curls into a messy ponytail. And sometimes, the sun would shine through the glass and hit his eyes just right, making them look like molten honey.

You couldn’t help the nervous flutters that sprung when he was near, your childhood crush resurfacing with teeth and taking hold of you.

It made it hard to listen, to remember the instructions he told you like not to fill the kernels past the very obvious line or else.

He never expounded on the or else but negative consequences were heavily implied.

“You’re such a jerk,” you rebutted but the venom fell flat, the insult sounding endearing to Eddie’s ears.

“You already knew I was, sweetheart. Don’t know why you expected anything different now that you work with me,” he began cleaning out the popcorn machine. Dumping the burnt kernels into the trash can before adding the cleaning solution to the kettle.

Your heart was still fluttering, replaying the single pet name over and over again.

“Guess that’s what I get for thinking,” you mimicked him and began helping him clean so the two of you would be ready for opening in thirty minutes.

Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye, the way your gaze was lit with mischief as you teased him and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“Are you two trying to set this place on fire?” Mark Huntzberger, the manager, bellowed as he came down the stairs from his office eyeing the mess you had made.

He descended with a stern, critical eye that shifted over the concessions stand and back to you.

You couldn’t help the way you shrank under his scrutiny.

“I know this may just be some summer job to you, girl, but this is my livelihood. If you can’t get it together by the end of the week I will make sure this one fires you.” He turned his attention to Eddie whose face had gone flat, eyebrows set in a straight line. Jaw tensed.

“It was an honest mistake,” Eddie interjected.

“Clean it up,” Huntzberger ordered and disappeared into the ticket booth.

“Why did I think this was going to be easy or fun?” You questioned more to yourself than to Eddie, shoulders tensed.

You tied the trash bag containing the kernels and pulled it from the can.

“Because the town fuck up works here, how hard can it be?” He nudged you with a wink.

“Move over, Eddie. Someone’s about to take your place,” you giggled and walked towards the exit doors that led to the alley behind the cinema.

“Don’t do that, it’s the only thing I got going for me,” his grin grew wider as he followed behind you.

He was all self-deprecation all the time and you began to wonder how much of it he really believed. A pang of sadness twisted in your gut.

The summer air was suffocating with its humidity and the stench of spoiled food wafting from the dumpsters.

You began to lift the bag over your head when Eddie took it from you and hoisted it in the metal canister.

“Y’know it’s not true, Ed’s,” you began, looking up at him. Eyes squinted from the intensity of the sun.

“What’s not?” He questioned, leaning against the brick wall that hid the dumpsters from the rest of the alley.

“That you don’t have anything else going for you,” you cleared your throat, “you have lots of talents-“

“Ah, yes, I am known for my natural ability to annoy and antagonize,” he interrupted and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m being serious! I mean, I don’t know many people who can learn a new song on the guitar half as fast as you. Didn’t you learn Master of Puppets in like a week?”

You remembered that?

“And what about all the stuff you know about cars? Or the random tidbits about pop culture and music? You’re like an encyclopedia britannica,” you continued.

“For all things useless,” he corrected and you poked his side causing him to flinch away from your touch.

“I mean it!” You insisted, eyes wide. Endearing. The same look you got when you were excited about something and Eddie laughed, ears turning a shade of red from the attention you gave him.

“You’re just trying to flatter me so I don’t fire you,” he joked and you continued to look up at him with a dramatic bat of your eyes, inching closer.

“Is it working?” You retorted, exaggerating the breathiness of your voice.

“Flattery always works with me, sweetheart,” he winked and turned back to the building.

There it was again.

Your heart stopped, skipped, and started again as you willed your legs to move. You watched his retreating frame, eyes boring into the back of his head.

“You coming?” He didn’t stop walking and you took wide steps to catch up with him, walking in stride back to the theater.

Before you went back through the door you grabbed his arm, eyes pouring with sincerity.

“I meant what I said, Eds,” he looked at you with a questioning perk of his eyebrow.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you swallowed hard and squeezed his arm before pulling open the door, the cold cinema air greeting you.

Eddie watched your retreating frame for a moment, a little taken aback, before following you to the concession stand.

The two of you fell into an easy silence as you worked.

You wiped the counters and finished cleaning the popcorn maker as instructed by Eddie while he set up the rope dividers in between each register, making sure things were organized just as Mark liked before the doors opened.

You were ready for the day; doors unlocked and fresh edible popcorn ready for the masses. A mass of moviegoers already lined up at the ticket booth.

The two of you rested against the counter waiting for the first customer to approach when he leaned over to you, warm breath fanning your ear.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

It was the first time he said your name. Acknowledged you as something other than Little Lipton.

The first time Eddie saw you as more than just his best friend’s little sister.

Eddie clamored into his trailer, heavy boots dragging across the worn carpet as he trudged to the kitchen and swung open the fridge, grabbing a six-pack that was nearly gone.

He spread out on the couch and chugged one can before reaching for another, eyes darting around his home. Eddie had it to himself for the week, Uncle Wayne out on another cross-country drop-off, and now the silence engulfed him.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly as the seconds passed and his thoughts clashed with each other.

Eddie tried to keep his attention on the TV as you entered the room for the fourth time that afternoon and Rick shook his head.

“Dude, I think my sister might like you,” your brother laughed as you disappeared back into your room.

Eddie scoffed at his words but the thrum of his heart would’ve given him away if Rick could hear it.

“I’d never date your sister,” Eddie nudged his arm against Rick’s, eyes trained on the video game as he sniped an enemy target.

“Like I’d let you,” he chuckled.

Eddie’s brow twisted in confusion and it wasn’t lost on Rick when he turned to him to emphasize his point.

“Oh come on, I love you man but there’s no way in hell I’d let my sister date a guy like you.”

Eddie chuckled along with Rick to conceal the sting of his friend’s words

He knew all the things that people didn’t like about him. His hair, his tattoos. The bad reputation he’d more than earned but to hear it from his best friend made it sting more.

He wondered if you saw him that way; a loser with no future. Just the town freak and he promised he’d never put himself out there to know.

Eddie pressed his palm to his eye, Rick’s words reverberated off his skull as he grappled with the feelings he’d long ignored.

The feelings that had sprouted and made a home of him since the summer he worked with you.

Eddie could still feel your lips against his, the electricity that hummed in his veins and he wished it had lasted a moment longer.

He made a mistake, a huge mistake, and winced every time he thought about the look on your face when he pushed you back into the passenger seat.

Eddie knew if it went further you’d only regret it once the sun came up and you’d sobered up. Once the realization hit that you’d slept with the pariah of Hawkins and he couldn’t live with you seeing him that way, with you regretting him.

Not when he already saw it in so many eyes around town.

He wasn’t exactly someone you could take home, someone you could brag about or show off a picture of. He knew that much, had been told that much so he accepted it to be true.

When girls got with Eddie they expected fun, they expected drugs, and a quick hookup.

Some of them never talked to him again, pretended they didn’t know him when they ran into him and others told him that being with him made them realize they’d hit rock bottom.

God, he couldn’t handle you telling him that he was your rock bottom.

Eddie decided it was better to ignore it, to ignore you. Better to pretend it didn’t happen despite the way he felt to spare himself from the regret he knew you’d feel.

It was a rainy day, fat drops bouncing off the windshield as your father drove. Faster than usual. In a hurry but you didn’t know where to.

The air conditioner was off creating a layer of condensation on the windows, making your legs stick to the leather seats of your family’s beat-up station wagon.

You drew butterflies on the glass, finger tracing against the cool pane. Grin wide as your drawings exposed the gray of the sky, the way the dark clouds rolled against its expanse.

The low hum of Strawberry Fields Forever played over the radio but your parent’s voices were louder.

Angrier.

Your mom sniffled and you leaned up in your seat to see if she was crying, the length of her hair concealing her face from view.

“Mama,�� you pushed against her seat with your sneakered foot but she didn’t respond.

“Jude, please pull over. I can drive.” Your mom insisted, tugging at your father’s arm but he shoved her off.

You unbuckled your seat belt and pulled at your mom’s shirt trying to get her attention.

“Mom.”

But your voice was cut off, muffled below the volume of the radio as your dad’s hand reached for the dial turning it until your ears rang.

You shrank back into your seat, lower lip jutted as you looked at them. No longer able to understand what your parents were saying, the scene in front of you a mix of gestures and twisted faces leaving you confused.

Your mother pulled on your dad’s arm again and he shoved her off, turning his head to look at her. Mouth wide as he spoke but you still couldn’t understand what he said.

Everything else became a blur of lights and pain.

Endless pain shooting from your leg and throughout your body.

Your cries wracked your body but were silent to your own ears.

The scene around you a mix of broken glass and lifeless eyes.

Then darkness.

You woke in a cold sweat, tank top clinging to your body uncomfortably.

Behind your eyes, your head pounded in a steady rhythm, one that matched the way your heart was racing. Bile began to rise to your throat, the nausea that always accompanied the nightmare.

The sting of your leg a reminder of the accident, of the pain from that day.

You pressed your palms into the skin of your thigh massaging the muscle marred by a thick scar that was a shade lighter than the rest of your flesh.

It ached like it just happened, like you were ten years old again trapped in that car and you groaned trying to bring yourself back to the present. Tried to ground yourself with the distant sound of the coffee maker and the smell of burnt toast.

Slowly you came back to the present, heart settling into a steady rhythm as you glanced around your room.

Sunlight streamed through your sheer curtains in brilliant rays, yellow hues painting your walls and highlighting the dust that danced through the air.

You threw your head back against the pillow, not ready to face the day. Images of the night before flooding your vision.

Simon and Rachel, her mouth pressed to his. The way she smiled up at him, held his hand.

The scene too familiar for a random drunken hook-up.

You pressed your palms into your eyes, rubbing until you saw swirls. Until you were reminded of Eddie’s stunned face as you sat in his lap, hands on his chest. The way he bucked into you.

The way he pushed you back into the passenger seat.

“Fucking idiot,” you groaned with embarrassment, pulling your pillow over your face as you let out a scream.

You stayed concealed under the pillow, contemplating jumping into the lake and disappearing altogether. Not ready to face Simon and Rachel. Or Eddie.

You flailed your body as another wave of embarrassment rolled through you, causing your pillow to fall from your face.

The incessant buzz of your phone caught your attention and you looked at its illuminated face. The screen full of notifications that you could see without grabbing it.

Hesitantly you reached for it, eyes pouring over all the texts.

11:55PM

Simon: Guess you decided not to come tonight?

12:00AM

Simon: helloooo?

12:23AM

Simon: so you’re just going to ignore me now cos I asked you to go out?

Simon: not like we can’t do date night another time, wanted to go have some fun for once

1:03AM

Simon: so you did show up

Simon: you left with MUNSON?

2:30AM

Simon: you’re really just going to ignore me?

2:33AM

Rachel: (Y/N)?

Rachel: Simon is really worried about you

7:49AM

Simon: We need to talk

8:36AM

Rachel: Text me when you’re awake

You swallowed the emotion that arose and wondered if their guilt had kept them awake, if it had eaten at them or settled into their chest. Felt whenever they breathed.

Were they even capable of that?

Slowly you pushed the sheets off the bed and forced your legs over the edge one by one until your feet were planted firmly in the plush carpet, your back still pressed against the mattress. Your phone forgotten, lost somewhere in your bedding.

You willed yourself off the mattress and clamored out your door, mind focused on getting a glass of water to cure your dry mouth.

The throb of your head returned and fuck, why did you drink so much last night?

The smell of burnt toast grew stronger as you stumbled down the hall causing your stomach to twist into knots and you could only assume it was your brother’s fault.

“Is it really that hard to cook toast, Rick?” You complained loudly as you reached for a glass on the top shelf and turned to the sink.

Blissfully unaware that there was a set of eyes on you, watching as you whistled and filled your glass to the brim. Foot tapping to a song that only you could hear.

Eddie watched you, a little petrified like a deer caught in the headlights.

He knew he’d see you, it was your house after all, but he wasn’t prepared for how much he’d see.

His eyes traced over your legs, focusing on the swell of your ass. Watching as you leaned over the sink to get a better view of the lake from the window, exposing just a glimpse of your ass cheeks.

And it’s like you knew what you were doing, knew that he was watching and driving him just a little bit insane.

He swallowed harshly, refocusing his attention back on his breakfast. Doing his best to ignore you like he planned.

“If it isn’t little miss sunshine,” your brother greeted, words dripping with sarcasm.

You turned around to mock him but stopped in your tracks, eyes practically bulging out of your skull when you noticed Eddie and you gripped your cup harder.

Had he been sitting there the whole time?

He quietly nibbled on a piece of bacon. Avoiding your eye contact entirely.

Your embarrassment flared and god, you wanted to crawl into a hole to disappear entirely.

Blinking rapidly, you shifted your gaze from his frame to Rick.

He situated himself at the table, grabbing a plate and shoveling food onto its surface. Eggs, bacon, and the incredibly burnt toast.

“Have work today?”

“Like I do every Saturday,” you shrugged, tone bored and doing your best not to glance at the metalhead out of the corner of your eye.

You took a sip of your water, focusing on the way its cool temperature slipped across your tongue. Focusing on anything else.

“I’m not going to be able to take you to work. Mrs. Wheeler needs me to take a look at her car and then I’m picking up some extra hours at the shop.”

You had yet to overcome your fear of driving, already having a hard time being a passenger in a car.

“Can’t mom take me?” you questioned but Rick’s head was already shaking as you spoke.

“The transmission is acting up in her car, need to look at it,” he stated around a mouth full of food.

“Then how is she getting to work?” You set your cup onto the counter sharper than you intended and folded your arms over your chest.

“She’s not, has one of her headaches again,” he gestured to his own head and shoveled more food into his mouth.

“That’s why I need the overtime and for you to go to work, we need the cash. Next deal isn’t coming in before the light bill is due.”

Your shoulders sagged, the constant stress of bills weighing heavy on you.

“I can just walk or get an uber,” you suggested with a tight smile, reaching over to grab a piece of bacon. The walk wasn’t that long.

“Your uber is already here,” he pointed to Eddie and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head.

Not happening.

“I can just walk,” you reaffirmed quickly causing Eddie’s eyebrow to quirk.

“Why are you acting like such a brat?” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not, just don’t want to make Eddie go out of his way for me.”

You unfolded your arms and gestured absently towards him.

It was mostly true anyway, you didn’t like the idea of returning to the scene of the crime or spending the twenty minutes it would take for him to drive you to work in awkward silence.

“He’s not, stop being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” you scoffed. “Besides I can just ask Simon to give me a ride,” you shrugged nonchalantly, taking another bite of bacon. Rick didn’t need to know that you weren’t talking to Simon and definitely wouldn’t be getting a ride from him.

Eddie’s elbow settled against the wooden dining table as he watched you, the way you so easily lied to your brother.

“Jesus, fine, whatever.” Your brother raised his hand up to get you to shut up and chugged his orange juice.

You reached for another piece of bacon but this time off his plate. Rick reached for your hand, shaking the piece out of your grasp, and turned to you, face twisting in disgust when he noticed what you were wearing.

“Go put some clothes on before Eddie gauges his fucking eyes out.” He wiped his mouth and waved a dismissive hand at you, chuckling at his own joke before biting into the piece of bacon that you tried to steal.

Eddie chuckled along with your brother, his pale cheeks blossoming pink and you sneered at him.

“Oh, I’d really hate for him to do that,” your voice dripped with sarcasm as you rolled your eyes and disappeared back down the hall to your room.

You pressed your back against the wooden door, annoyance making a place in your chest and overtaking any embarrassment you’d previously felt.

No, Simon wouldn’t be giving you a ride but neither would Eddie. You’d rather risk showing up a sweaty mess than sit in a car alone with him.

What you hadn’t planned on was for it to start raining. One of Hawkins’ sporadic downpours graced the sky as autumn settled into its foliage.

The maple leaves had already started turning yellow, their brightness a contrast against the gray sky. The air smelled of the evergreens, the sharpness of their leaves mixing with the sweetness of the maple trees.

You took a deep breath as you continued your walk, the road feeling longer in the bad weather.

Your converse trudged through the mud splashing dirt onto the cuffs of your jeans. Your white assistant manager shirt clung to your skin leaving little to the imagination and you crossed your arms over your chest.

There was a small part of you that wished you had just taken the ride but there was a bigger part, the more prideful one, that was glad you hadn’t.

Not after the way he laughed at you, at the thought of even being attracted to you. When you’d just mauled him the night before and this would be the perfect time for lightning to strike you down.

To end your misery, the embarrassment clinging to you once again like your clothes did.

In the distance, you could hear a car approaching and you moved further into the dirt to avoid being hit hoping it wasn’t a creeper or a new serial killer looking for his next victim.

But it was worse.

It was Eddie.

Smiling at you from his rolled-down window, van driving slowly on the road's edge.

“Are you that fucking stubborn?” He asked, although he already knew the answer.

“Go away, Munson.”

You didn’t look at him, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Simon a no-show, huh?”

You clicked your teeth, trying to appear nonchalant. Like the words didn’t dig at you.

“Doesn’t appear so.”

His shoulders sagged as you continued to ignore him, deciding to appeal to your sensible side instead.

“You’re going to get sick.”

“So?”

And why did he think you could be sensible?

He groaned and sped up only to stop the car just in front of you to block your path. You stopped in your tracks, listening as he climbed out of the driver’s seat and rounded the car.

“Are we really going to do this again?,” he questioned as he trudged toward you. Boots slamming into the mud. Curls a little wild when he looked at you.

“Do what?” You gave him an innocent smile, eyelashes batting dramatically.

Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Just get in the fucking car,” he stated through gritted teeth, his annoyance only making your grin widen.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather gauge your eyes out?” Your voice dropped low, mocking Rick’s tone. You dropped your smile, gaze a little cold as it met his before and you pushed past Eddie.

He threw his head back, face to the sky. Of course, you were pissed about that.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He turned to you, watching as you continued to walk away from him.

“For driving me home last night and making out with me or for laughing at me this morning?” You turned around and began to walk backward, arms lifting from your side. A little tired, a little defeated and you stopped beside his van waiting for his answer. Concealed from the rest of the road.

“Laughing at you,” his voice was earnest, “I didn’t mean it.”

You nodded, his words a salve to that wound but still, there was the mortifying way he pushed you away from him.

Eddie began to walk towards you, drawing closer. The scent of his cologne invading your senses.

“Sure you aren’t sorry about the making out part?” You questioned, eyes trained on his amber gaze as he approached.

He swallowed roughly and debated whether he should be honest and simply shook his head.

You shrugged your shoulders trying to appear flippant, to seem as though his reassurance didn’t affect you the way that it had. Heart hammering wildly, legs a little wobbly because Eddie Munson didn’t regret kissing you.

“Well that’s good, I’m glad neither of us regretted it,” you turned from him, missing the way his gaze lit up at your words. The reassurance that he needed.

“Now you can go on your merry way and pretend that you gave me a ride. I promise I won’t tell my brother that you didn’t.”

His hand was warm against your arm as he spun you to look at him.

Your shoes slid against the wet earth from the force and it was for a brief moment that you saw him before you crashed into the soft mud.

“Fuck-“ your curses were synchronized as you fell and pulled him atop of you, his weight causing you to groan from the sudden impact.

Eddie’s knee was slotted between your legs as he lifted his weight onto his forearms, brown gaze boring into your eyes. An apology on his lips when you began to laugh. Giggles filling the air around you.

You looked at the evidence of your fall, your white shirt was painted brown, ruined, and marred from the mud. Your hair was a mess of dirt that clung to your face.

Eddie was void of any dirt, the only evidence was the mud that soaked through the pants of his jeans and it was a little bit annoying.

Slowly you reached your finger up and slid it across his pale skin with a wide mischievous smile. Chuckling at the way his eyebrows married at your actions, the way his jaw jutted to this side and he shook his head.

“You brat,” he lifted a hand and attempted to copy your actions as you tried to wiggle away. His free hand stilled you, holding you by the waist his he dragged the other across your cheek.

His playful smile mirrored yours.

“You jerk, I have to get to work!” But your tone didn’t match the light in your eyes.

“I don’t think Huntzberger wants you hovering over the popcorn, let alone walking into the building, like this.”

His eyes roamed your body, noticing the way your nipples were pebbled against your shirt. The way your jeans hugged the flare of your hips as you squirmed beneath him.

Your breath hitched as he took you in, chest rising and falling at a quickened pace that wasn’t lost on Eddie.

“How much time do you have before work?” His voice was a little gruff, affected, and it took a moment for you to form a coherent thought.

Your eyes blinked rapidly, hands resting on his chest absently and you cleared your throat.

He lifted off of you and reached a hand to help you up but you pulled him down into the mud beside you.

“You little shit!” Eddie looked at himself, the mud that clung to his jacket and jeans.

“Oops,” you shrugged and leaned out of his way as he threw mud at you.

“I have like two hours,” you laughed, looking at him completely amused.

“How long did you think it was going to take you to walk?” He lay there defeated, chuckle matching yours.

“I don’t know, it was just in case-“

“In case what? You had to fight a pack of wood rats to get through?”

“Shut up,” you shoved his face from yours, mud caking his cheek.

Eddie gasped at the same time you did, realization dawning as he tackled you back into the mud.

It was like the whole world fell around you, ceasing to exist except for you and Eddie. His muddied face hovering above yours, long fingers digging into your sides as you wiggled away from him.

Your giggles filled the air and you pushed at his chest.

“Stop! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Tears sprang in your eyes as you pushed against his chest, dirt seeping further into your clothes as you lay there at his mercy.

“Say please,” he insisted and you shook your head, hands gripping his shirt,

For a moment he stopped, fingers stilled at your sides and he smiled at you mischievously. Face moving half an inch closer and your smile faltered briefly, gaze darting to his lips and back to his eyes. Their deep brown staring back at you, a light in them you hadn’t seen.

“You don’t regret it?” He questioned, needing reassurance. His breath fanning against your face.

You shook your head already knowing the “it” that he thought you regretted and he leaned closer, his lips a whisper above your own.

Shaky breaths mixing with yours.

Your heart skipped as you anticipated the first touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

Eddie pulled away, slowly. Hesitantly.

“Think we should get you back home,” he looked down at your dirtied clothes and chuckled, face hovering above yours and you tried to hide your disappointment as you nodded in agreement.

He pushed himself off of you wiping his hands along his jeans before stretching out his hand to help you up.

Your palm slid against his, caked dirt pressing against his warm hand and he pulled you against him. Sliding his hands down until they settled on your waist.

His nose traced yours as his fingers dug into your hips and he swallowed hard.

The composure he’d always managed to maintain quickly slipped away.

You tilted your face and ran a hand against his jaw, cupping his chin. Your thumb lazed against his stubbled flesh drawing circles in his skin.

“Fuck it,” Eddie’s lips pushed against yours.

The press of them made you gasp, just as soft as you remembered but more fervent than before.

His tongue pressed at the seam of your lips, swiping against yours when you opened for him.

He was sweet like spearmint and you hummed.

Exhilaration thrummed through you as you pulled him closer, arms wrapping around his neck.

Chest to chest.

Hearts synchronized, each beating at a rapid pace and you wanted the moment to stretch on.

For the kiss to never end.

Thunder cracked in the air and the two of you looked up at the darkened sky just as the rain began to fall.

Eddie looked back at you, dimpled grin wide as the first drop hit his cheek and you yelped when the first drops began to cascade against your cheeks.

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, enjoying your surprised gasp. The way you instantly melted into his touch.

“Will you please get in the fucking car now?”

You nodded rapidly, your hand slipping into Eddie’s warm palm. Allowing him to pull you towards his van and into the passenger seat.

Your house was silent, the volume of your mother’s television low behind her bedroom door. Rick had long since left, his car missing from your driveway.

Slowly you tiptoed inside and pulled Eddie behind you like a teenager sneaking a random boy in. As though Eddie hadn’t been inside your house a million times before.

You slid the deadbolt into the door and turned to him with a wide grin, making his heart pulse with nervous energy.

His thoughts raced with uncertainty. Insecurity and god, what was he doing in his best friend’s house holding hands with his sister?

What if you didn’t regret it now but you did later?

Because you were bound to.

He was adamant you were.

Your lips made his thoughts dissipate, self-doubt replaced with a need he could no longer ignore. You both kicked off your muddy shoes, their soles landing with a soft thud against the tiled floor.

His smile grew under your kiss as you led him through the house and to the bathroom, legs moving backward as you tugged at his shirt.

Your back hit the wood of the door louder than expected and he broke apart from you, stilling to listen for any movement. His concentrated face made you giggle as you pulled him through and closed the door.

“Scared, Munson?” Your voice was teasing as you pushed him against the wooden frame and reached for the lock beside him. Twisting it until it latched.

Less than shy.

A little needy.

Challenging gaze trained on his as you pushed his leather jacket to the ground, grinning as it landed with a thud.

It was like a game, each of you teasing and feeling like you were about to explode.

He shook his head in response, crooked grin broad as he dipped his head closer to yours. Enjoying the way you leaned towards him instinctively already anticipating the moment his lips would be on yours.

“What was it you said last night?” His voice was gruff, eyebrow twitching up as he waited for your response.

You watched as Eddie traced his fingers up your arm, the warmth of them felt beneath your shirt. His pace was agonizingly slow as he created a trail to your face and rubbed an affectionate thumb against your cheek.

Your mind was swimming, eyes trained on his lips just inches from yours. Loud need surpassing any form of a coherent thought and he enjoyed how you were affected.

How you were a little dumb from just one kiss, from the press of his body against yours.

“Come on pretty girl, I know you remember,” his lips grazed against your cheek settling on the sensitive skin between your ear and your neck.

He pressed a kiss against the sensitive flesh, smiling as he felt your shudder.

“I said,” you swallowed and closed your eyes as he began to suck at your skin. The sensation driving you a little mad.

“Go on,” he instructed, breath warm against your ear.

“Nobody has to know,” your fingers tangled into his curls holding him against you. He hummed against your skin, tongue darting against the spot he just sucked.

“If you don’t want them to,” you finished, relishing the way his teeth grazed against your flesh. The way his warm breath made goose flesh sprout along your arms.

“Is that what you want?” He questioned heart hammering against his ribcage. The same self-doubt sprouting. A little mocking.

“I just want you.” He pulled away to look at you, brown eyes boring into your own. Measuring your sincerity. Not finding a hint of doubt. He swallowed hard and pressed a kiss to your lips, sucking your lower lip between his. The sensation making your toes curl and your hands tangle in his shirt.

It felt like there was electricity in the air, the hair on your arms standing on end as it buzzed around you.

The surface of his tongue dragged against your lip and you slid your own against his, matching his pace. He savored the way you tasted, swallowing your breathy moans as he led you further into the room until your ass pressed into the edge of your sink.

Eddie kissed the edge of your mouth, your jaw, your neck and lifted you to sit on the counter. Your small yelp made him smile against your skin as he pushed your collar aside and began to unbutton your shirt.

“Is this okay?” He asked, voice soft. Hands quickening as you nodded your response. The fabric dropped from your shoulders and into the sink, your breasts only concealed by the thin lace of your bra.

His cheeks blossomed red as he admired you, eyes trained on the bud of your nipples pressed against your bra and swallowed hard.

“You’re so beautiful,” his gaze met yours. Eddie’s voice sounded strained, as though he were struggling somehow and you began to push at the soft cotton of his black t-shirt. Running your hands at the patch of hair that led into his jeans up to his chest. Pushing his shirt up with your ascent and over his head, your teeth sinking into your lips as he stood before you. A new intimacy to the exposed skin you’d seen before.

It was your turn to make him shudder, to make goosebumps sprout as you dragged your fingertips down his abdomen and to his handcuff belt buckle.

Eddie’s eyes darkened as you unfastened it and tossed it aside, his fingertips tracing lines up your arms. Leaving behind a trail of electricity where they touched.

He lowered his head, breath warm against your skin as he placed kisses on your shoulder, peppering them up to your jaw.

He pulled at the straps of your bra and reached behind you for the clasp, unhooking it. Your bare breasts pressed to his chest, heat rising to deepen the color of your skin.

Eddie’s mouth was back on yours in an instant, kisses frenzied.

Need overpowering any thought as he made work of the button of your jeans while you made work of his with clumsy hands.

“Take these off,” you pushed at his chest and jumped from the counter to remove yours until you were in just your panties. Bare chest heaving with excitement.

His breath hitched at the sight of you, his hard arousal less restrained against the material of his boxers.

You kissed him again, slower. Deeper. Teeth grazing his lower lip as you stroked him over the thin material of his boxers. Smiling as he shuddered against your lips you pulled the rest of the material down.

Eddie’s hands dug into your skin as his hard cock sprang free against your stomach, the girth of it making your eyes snap open wide from the touch alone. Your pussy clenched as you thought of the stretch he would be and you needed him inside you.

He pushed your panties down until they fell to your ankles and walked you backward towards your shower, the cold of the glass door making you gasp as it touched your naked flesh.

Briefly, the two of you pulled apart.

Eddie’s pupils were blown, darkened by a different kind of hunger and breathing became difficult under his fixed gaze.

You began to stroke his hard dick rubbing your thumb against his tip, mouth-watering to have him pressed into your cheek as precum leaked down your hand.

Eddie swore he died and went to heaven as he watched you get down on your knees in front of him, your tongue dragging across the underside of his shaft.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, bucking when you wrapped your lips around his tip. Cheeks hollowed out as you teased him inch by inch until he was pressed against the back of your mouth. It felt like you were swallowing his dick the way you pulled him into your throat, gagging as you looked up at him. Slobber collecting around his cock and dripping down his balls.

His hands fisted in your hair, watching you bob up and down his cock, dragging your hand over his shaft as you did.

Eddie whispered your name and it only made you more needy for his cum, wanting to taste his warm load against your tongue.

“Baby, baby,” his grip on your hair tightened and you stilled, eyes looking up at him with your mouth still wrapped around his cock.

“I’m going to finish before we even get started if you keep doing that,” his voice was a little strained as you pulled back releasing his tip with a small pop.

“That’s okay,” you whispered as you continued to stroke him.

He shook his head and stilled your hand, fingers wrapping around your wrist.

“Not yet,” he lifted you up and kissed your swollen lips as he reached inside the shower to turn the hot water on, steam clouds quickly filling the room.

A small giggle escaped you as Eddie hoisted you up, fingers gripping your ass. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, hands twined around his shoulders as he carried you into the warm water.

Your fingers slipped into the curls at the nape his neck until his chest was pressed against yours.

Your mouths were frenetic, all teeth and tongue. An animalistic need that came over you.

His fingers gripped you tighter as you slid your wet arousal against his shaft. The tip of his cock teasing your tight entrance.

Eddie pulled away and groaned into your neck. Teeth scraped against the sensitive flesh and you moved your head to expose more of the skin to him.

His tongue slid against your pulse, feeling the way your heartbeat thrummed wildly underneath it.

You tangled your fingers into his curls bucking against him, sliding your slick folds against his length, enjoying the way his hands clutched your hips tighter. Trying to hold onto the last of his restraint.

“I don’t have a condom,” he whispered, and you stilled.

“There’s always next time,” you promised with a kiss and Eddie couldn’t believe there would be a next time.

His lips locked with yours as he unwrapped your legs from his waist, setting your shaky legs underneath you.

Agonizingly slow, his mouth trailed down your chest. Tongue swirling around your budded nipple. Pulling it into his mouth with a gentle suck.

Your head fell against the tiled wall, nails scraping at his back as he showed your other breast the same attention. Kneading the other with his free hand.

His kisses trailed down your sternum, tongue grazing against your abdomen. As he neared your mound he lifted your leg, hooking your knee over his shoulder.

Steam billowed around you and against the glass panes, separating the two of you from the rest of the world. Water rolled down Eddie’s back soaking into his hair as his tongue left an agonizing trail up your thigh until he reached your center.

You gasped at the first swipe of his tongue, bucking as he parted your sensitive flesh.

He took his time, lapping at your already dripping arousal. Humming as he tasted you.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, returning to your thigh to press kisses into your skin. You tilted your head back against the wall, his affected voice playing in your head on a loop.

“I knew you’d be this sweet,” his voice was gruff, vibrating against your inner thigh as he sucked and bruised your skin before returning to your aching cunt.

His tongue darted in and out of your sopping pussy, enjoying the way your quiet moans reverberated off the walls.

The way you bit your lower lip to keep yourself from moaning louder.

He began to rub gentle circles against your bundle of nerves and it felt like your mind became void of thought, ears whirring with the sound of your beating heart.

You wrapped your fingers in Eddie’s hair to keep you grounded, almost losing balance as he pulled your clit into his mouth with a gentle suck.

He teased your slick folds with his finger, prodding your entrance. Gathering your slick arousal before slowly inching inside of you until your walls were wrapped around him.

Eddie’s finger curled inside of you, pressing against your spongy center. A spot you were never able to reach on your own.

It had you seeing stars, moans growing louder and you covered your mouth to muffle the noise.

He groaned, about to cum at the sight of your pleasure with you wrapped around his finger. Slowly he added another digit, stretching you until he was knuckle deep. Your juices dripped down his hand as he quickened his pace.

The lude squelching of your pussy made his eyes roll, his tongue darting quicker over your sensitive clit.

Your grasp on his hair tightened as you began to ride his face, chasing the release you needed.

You bit back your moan and glanced down at him.

Eddie Munson was on his knees in front of you, dark brown eyes watching you as you ground your pussy against his face. His curled fingers darting in and out of your cunt, mouth sucking your clit. Freehand keeping you spread apart for him.

You gripped his hair, pulling at his curls as you began to come undone. Eyes slammed shut, the pleasure deepening until it felt like your entire body was a live wire thrumming, unfurling at your center.

You moaned his name over and over, the only word you knew how to say. No longer able to form a coherent thought as your pussy pulsed with the strength of your orgasm and Eddie didn’t move. Lapping at your release, relishing at the way you tasted as you coated his tongue.

He removed his fingers from you steadily, pressing kisses gingerly to your inner thigh, your abdomen, and up to your breasts until he was standing over you.

Eddie peppered a trail of kisses along your neck and up your cheek until his lips were pressed against yours.

You hummed as you tasted your release on his tongue, dragging your nails up his abdomen and to his chest. Enjoying the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

“Eddie,” you whispered his nickname between kisses, eyes still closed as his mouth worked against yours but your lungs were desperate for oxygen. Burning for a reprieve.

You pulled away slightly and peeked up at him through your lashes. Lungs constricting for a different reason. Obsidian eyes framed by long lashes looked back at you with an intensity that made you swallow harshly. Eyebrow pointed up as he waited for you to continue, to tell him what you’d planned to say.

His face was framed by his dark wet curls as they clung to him, porcelain skin blossoming a rosy pink from the temperature of the water, and holy, Eddie Munson was beautiful.

The kind that made your heart stutter, stop, and start again.

The kind that could have you dedicate paragraphs and soliloquies to describing the intensity of his gaze, the effect of his crooked smile.

The kind that had you staring at his lips, a little dazed and you could blame it on the world-altering orgasm. Could blame it as a side effect of the billowing steam around you. A little suffocating in its intensity.

“Yes, sweetheart?” His gruff voice broke through the silence, your train of thought, nose rubbing against yours and you crooned. Needy hands pushed at his chest and spun him around until his back was the one pressed against the wall.

Your fingers created a trail back down his abdomen and through the patch of hair that led to his cock.

“It’s my turn,” you whispered against his lips and began to stroke his length.

His jaw went a little slack, gaze trained on your teasing smile.

Watching the way you created circles against his tip, your other hand massaging his balls.

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips and began a trail over his jaw, settling on the sensitive skin of his neck.

Your tongue grazed his skin, enjoying the way his dick twitched in your hand as you began to nibble gently. Sucking the sensitive spot into a bruise. Eddie groaned, head tilted against the wall as his hands explored your body. Caressing your tits, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

His hands moved to your hips as you trailed down his chest, kisses peppered down until just above his cock. You watched him from above your eyelashes, gaze trained on the dazed look in his eye as you dragged your tongue along his shaft. Swirling it along the top, the taste of precum salty against your tongue. You moaned at his taste, eager for him to coat your throat in his release.

Your head bobbed an inch and off again, teasing. A wicked smile on your lips when you looked up at him.

Eddie was on the brink of destruction, about to explode from the sight of you on your knees once again and this time he wouldn’t last.

“Such a fucking tease,” he grunted, fingers rubbing the side of your mouth. Tugging until you opened wider for him. He pushed his thumb in, groaning when your tongue swiped his finger. Sucked on it, releasing it with a loud pop. He rubbed your drool against your lips, watching it bounce back into place and you were back on his cock again. Not allowing him a moment longer to think as you sucked viciously on the tip while you fondled his balls.

Eddie’s moans grew louder and you clenched your legs together, aching for him to stretch you. The image of him pumping into you spurred you to take him deeper and you pulled him further into your mouth, cheeks hollowed out as you took him inch by inch until he was hitting the back of your throat.

He knotted his fingers into your hair, guiding your head up and down as you began to increase your pace. Until he was fucking your face. You concentrated on breathing through your nose, your tongue swirling while your hand gripped him. Stroking in sync with the movement of your head. Slobber coating his pubes and dripping down his balls.

“Holy fucking shit,” he cursed, listening as you gagged around his dick and it felt like you were swallowing him whole.

“I-I’m gonna come,” Eddie stammered, voice strained. You hummed against his cock, needy for him to finish. He pumped one more time until he was spilling into your mouth, warm come hit the back of your throat.

You continued to suck on his cock, milking every drop out of him. Ascending to his tip to lick him clean, enjoying the way his tangy spent tasted against your tongue.

Eddie’s body turned rosy, goosebumps breaking along his flesh. The orgasm rolling through him, felt deep in his gut and he swallowed the deep groan stuck in his throat.

His fingers were still twisted in your hair and slowly he released his tight grip, eyes opening to see you still on your knees trailing kisses over his softening arousal and back up his torso.

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him as if this wasn’t your first time together. Comfortable, shyness tucked away somewhere and hidden from sight.

“Hi,” you smiled at him fondly, voice softer than when you first entered the room. Eddie rubbed an affectionate thumb against the apple of your cheek, fondness evident behind his half-hooded eyes.

“Hi,” he whispered back and held you close, pecking a soft kiss against your lips. Fast as if it were a habit.

The two of you stood there, warm water hitting your back. Shrouded in steam and under the after-sex glow. The kind of glow that painted Eddie’s cheeks a permanent shade of pink and you didn’t think he could look any cuter.

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to be late to work,” you giggled. Not eager to move, unsure of what would happen once you did.

“Shit, I forgot that’s why we came back,” he laughed with you. This morning’s conversation felt like eons ago.

“‘S’okay,” you grinned, “Mark will be fine without his AM for a bit. Just need to get cleaned up.” You began to push off his chest but Eddie held you there and reached over for the bottle of shampoo.

“I can help you get cleaned up,” he offered, already reaching around you and putting too much shampoo onto his palm before you could respond. He rubbed it between his hands before massaging it into your scalp.

The smell of coconuts mixed with a floral scent filled the air as you mulled, enjoying the way his fingers felt in your hair.

“Oh my god-” you groaned, neck relaxing into his touch. Eddie chortled, enjoying the way that you melted into him even more.

“Does that feel good?”

“Munson, did I ever mention how talented you are with your hands?”

“I think you may have given me a hint,” he retorted, heavy on the innuendos and you slapped his chest lightly.

“Something about my mouth too,” he added, moving only slightly as you lifted your hand to swat him once more. His fingers still rubbing against your scalp, suds forming and lifting into the air.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered into his neck and his grin grew.

“Little Lipton thinks I’m cute,” he mused but your smile faltered as you pulled away from him. He looked at you quizzically, sudsy hands dropping from your scalp.

“What is it?”

You pressed your palm to his chest, putting space between the two of you. Taking a deep breath.

“I’m not Little Lipton,” you sighed, drawing invisible circles into his skin.

“Or Speilberg.” You rolled your eyes because as much as you hated, or pretended to hate, that nickname there was a part of you that felt a certain fondness for it. However small.

“It’s (Y/N),” you swallowed, “I want you to call me by name.”

He nodded but you didn’t look at him, eyes focused on the constellation of freckles that dotted his chest. The tattoo he let your brother do several years ago.

Eddie pushed your chin up so you’d look at him. At the sincerity that hid behind molten honey.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, your name never sounding any sweeter, and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Eddie,” and he never realized that his name could ever sound saccharine on someone’s tongue. How it would be to hear it wrapped in affection. A hint of budding adoration.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, to the tip of your nose before gently pushing your back into the water to rinse the shampoo from it.

tag list*: @sharnnnnnn, @hsllfirescoops, @gri959, @bexreadstoomuch, @bourbonbl0nde, @mrsjellymunson, @micheledawn1975, @sweetdazequeen, @auntbaby, @vintagehellfire, @alwayslindie, @fentiibratzz, @findmeincorneliastreet, @take-everything-you-can, @kellsck, @mewchiili, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @cozmiccass, @ali-r3n, @the-unforgivenn, @trixyvixx, @emxxblog, @hereforshmut, @the-sylver-dragon, @pixxiestixs, @cosmorant, @chloe-6123, @kaita, @givemethatheart-breakingstory-rn, @brinleighsstuff, @lightcommastix, @birdysaturne, @meabhogr, @bl0ssomanddie, @hugdealer, @serenadingtigers, @fishwithtitz, @adamsbubblegumbitch, @fangfatale, @aspectsofyou, @5tud10-54r4h, @dontcrydaddy

*if you requested to be tagged but were not listed it was because your blog did not pull up to verify your age or there was no indication that you are 18+

tag list is closed

355 notes · View notes

fxrmuladaydreams · 7 months

Text

picture perfect (cl16)

charles x redbullphotographer!reader , max x reader (platonic)

summary: charles’ confession to you is anything but perfect

notes: leave me some blurb requests and I’ll hop on them as soon as I can 🤍 also i couldn’t write this without the line, and i didn’t really know how to end it so i hope it’s okay

If someone had told Charles that he’d be nervous at the sight of the Red Bull hospitality building, he’d have thought they were crazy. He had never once felt afraid of anything that had to do with the team. Not Max, not Checo, not Christian, not even the fact that they had the fastest car on the grid.

But right now, he could practically feel his heart in his throat. He’d been pacing back and forth, past the entrance to the building for a little while now. He could just walk in, but he was sure that someone would take a look at him in his overwhelmingly bright red attire and promptly escort him back outside.

He really didn’t mean to fall for the new Red Bull employee. Really, he didn’t even know most of the people who had worked for the team. It was all Max’s fault honestly.

He had bumped into the two of you a few races back. You had a camera hanging around your neck, your eyes glued to Max who seemed to be explaining something to you, neither of you really paying attention to where you were going.

Your eyes caught his for a moment, then quickly moved back to the dutch driver. Max noticed the flash of red and greeted Charles. He then introduced the monégasque driver to you, one of Red Bull’s new photographers. You shook his hand and gave him a soft smile before continuing on your way.

From then on, it seemed like there was some higher power that had kept pushing you into his life. He ran into you at media events, during race weekends, even when some of the drivers got together to hang out he’d find you sitting alongside Max, chatting with the others there.

Charles had tried to talk to you on multiple occasions, attempting to get to know you, but had never quite gotten it right.

He remembers when he approached you at a press conference. He asked how you were enjoying your job with Red Bull, joking that Max must be a hard subject to photograph. He remembers that was when he heard you laugh for the first time. Your eyes crinkled and your smile lit up the room. He broke out into a grin as well, his heart swelling with his little achievement, before he was pulled away for his media duties.

Then there was a barbecue hosted by Christian Horner, where he tried to get closer to you in a private corner of Christian’s yard. A cool breeze came in as the sun went down, and he had noticed you wrap your arms around yourself. He removed his Ferrari jacket and placed it over your shoulders. You pulled it closer against you and thanked him.

He thought he might kiss you that night. You looked perfect wrapped up in his jacket, with the moonlight shining down on you. Everything was perfect until Max came over and swung an arm over your shoulder.

“Fraternizing with the enemy?” He asks you. Before you can answer he laughs and looks over at Charles. “Don’t try to steal her mate. She’s Red Bull through and through.”

He couldn’t get a word in before Max was dragging you away to another group in the yard. Charles kept an eye on you though, his bright red jacket still hanging off your shoulders.

But today was the day he was finally going to do something about the feelings that had been consuming him. That’s how he found himself pacing in front of the Red Bull building.

It was simple really, all he needed to do was to see you, and tell you how he felt, how you made him feel. He could feel his palms get clammy just thinking about it. No girl had ever made him this nervous before, so why did you?

“Good morning Charles.” Christian’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Did you need something?” He stepped outside when he noticed the bright red figure passing back and forth.

Charles clears his throat. “No, I am just waiting for-”

“She hasn’t come in yet.” Christian smirks.

A light blush spreads over Charles’ face as he tries to find a response.

“It’s okay, she likes you just as much as you like her. You should see all of the Ferrari photos on her camera.”

Charles’ blush intensifies as he smiles, thinking about you sneaking photos of him.

You make your way down the walkway, talking with Max as per usual, Charles’ jacket draped over your arm. You glance ahead and spot Charles, giving him a smile and a small wave.

He meets you at the entrance to the building, briefly greeting Max before his attention is drawn back to you.

“Here’s your jacket back. Thank you for letting me borrow it.” You tell him, holding out the jacket.

His hand brushes against yours as he takes it from you. “No problem.”

You move to step around him, but he blocks your path. “Can I speak with you? Alone?” He glances at Max, who raises his hands and steps away from the two of you.

You can see Charles take a deep breath and shake his hands out as you take a step away from the building.

“Is everything okay?” You ask him.

He nods his head yet keeps his eyes trained on the ground in front of him. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” You take a step towards him and rest a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

He looks up at you, then shuts his eyes, letting out a sigh. “God, you just make me feel sick.”

You drop your hand and take a step back from him. “What?” An offensive tone is clear in your voice.

His eyes shoot back up to you wide and alarmed. “No! No, no, no! That’s not what I meant!” He tries to step towards you, frowning when you take another step back. “I meant it in a good way.”

“I make you feel sick in a good way?” You raise your eyebrows at him. Part of you is ready to just walk past him and forget this exchange ever happened, but the other part feels slightly sorry for the poor boy clearly struggling to find the right words to convey his emotions.

“I am stupid. I am sorry.” He shakes his head, about to turn away and walk off, but pauses as his heart skips a beat when he feels your hand entangled with his.

You give him a small smile and nod your head. “Start over. Is everything okay?”

He takes a deep breath then takes a moment to just look into your eyes. You give him an encouraging nod, and all of a sudden the words come easy to him.

“I like you. A lot. I like seeing you during race weekends. I like seeing you when we’re just hanging out with friends. I’ve never really been afraid or nervous about anything, but you’ve changed that. I get nervous when I’m around you, and it’s not because you’re from Red Bull.” He laughs. “The point is, I like you, and I’d like to continue seeing you, possibly in a more romantic setting?” His cheeks flush pink as he waits for your response.

You can feel your face heat up at his admission as well, looking up into his sea green eyes. “I would like that very much Charles.” You tighten your hold on his hand.

He holds his jacket back out to you. “I think you should keep this then. Red looks good on you.”

“I think I’d get killed if I wore a Ferrari jacket in there.” You nod back at the Red Bull building, spotting Max, who stands inside, quickly turning away as if he wasn’t watching the whole encounter.

He glances over at Max and scoffs, shaking his head.

“Hey.” You tug on his arm, pulling his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Alright.” He smiles as you lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek before leaving him to go inside.

The rest of his day seems to drag on as he waits for it to end so he can see you. A text appears on his phone that sends a jolt of happiness through him.

Y/n ❤️

You make me sick too by the way ☺️

He laughs as he texts you back.

❤️Charles

That didn’t go as smoothly as I wanted it to go

Y/n ❤️

It was perfect 💞

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #formula one #formula one x reader #cl16

928 notes · View notes

rookthorne · 1 year

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

You were the warmth and light to Bucky’s shadows and brooding nature — a match made in heaven, and it was a miracle that a certain someone realised as much.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿ Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✿ 2.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✿ Fluff, mention of alcohol

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✿ My very first grumpy x sunshine fic, and it was hella fun! a huge thank you to all those who listened to me deliberate what the hell to do with it! ✿ A huge thank you to @mxaether for the fact checking and guidance - you were a huge help!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✿ Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✿ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟯 — Tattoo AU — Masterlist

𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The anniversary of 107th Ink was always going to be special, and this one perhaps was one of the biggest years – seven whole years since both Bucky and Stevie had walked through those doors with a dream, a dream that had flourished and blown up with their combined talents and charisma.

In order to celebrate, 107th Ink had announced a surprise flash day. And, as anyone would have expected from the fastest growing tattoo parlour in the area, it was chaos – actually, chaotic was an understatement, and for this very reason, you had parked your car a block away from Bucky’s shop with a box of donuts in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other.

You would be a sight for sore, tired eyes, that was for sure.

Bucky’s Harley was parked on the verge, the shining red paint and reflective chrome shone in the light of the setting sun. The many rides you had taken with Bucky on that very bike came to the forefront of your mind, and you smiled fondly at the memories; the time he had taken you down the back roads for a picnic after you had finally convinced him to put his machine down, or that time that he took you down the highway, resting his hand on yours that had looped tightly around his middle.

You and Bucky had been friends for years – he was certainly by far the gruffest and honest to god most intimidating man you had ever met, but somehow, he softened around you. Ever since Natasha had introduced you to him, you had felt an instant connection to the infamous brooding vet, and it left the two of you on a path you had no idea how to navigate. It was becoming difficult to ignore the butterflies that crowded your entire being when he flashed you a rare smile, or called you his Sunshine.

But that was a thought for another day – Bucky needed his Jacks and Stevie would need his donuts, not to mention Nat and Peter squirrelling away what they could of either offering.

And, after your own intense and exhausting day with work and clients, you had to admit, it would be nice to see your friends.

The door to the shop swung open with a clink of the bell, and you took in the scene. Bucky’s interior design choices screamed Rock’n’Roll with guitars lining the walls, all in various states of artistic liberty of designs and signatures. Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me played quietly over the hustle and bustle, a constant background noise amongst the many conversations held between artists and clients you could only just hear. Soft lighting illuminated the entry and reception where black leather couches were placed cosily – no clients were lazing about so you suspected they were all in the booths. The shining tiled floor reflected the reds of the walls and the mahogany oak accents like it was freshly polished.

Bucky’s standards of professionalism and cleanliness were high, and hell hath no fury for anyone that compromised them.

“Hey, Sunshine!” A bright voice called from an open door – Peter’s booth, and you looked over to see the aforementioned excited apprentice poking his head out. “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes-” You stifled a laugh, smiling instead. “Bucky is just over there,” Peter said, gesturing towards a closed door. “He’ll be out soon, nervous client.”

“Thanks, Pete,” you said, and he grinned at you and the donuts in your hand before disappearing back into the booth.

As expected, time passed slowly and you watched while a couple of clients milled out of the booths – Stevie’s, Nat’s and Peter’s. You caught sight of Stevie and Nat occasionally, and they spared you an excited wave or smile when they could – their gazes drifting to the treats you had brought with you.

The sun had set by the time Bucky’s booth had any sign of movement. His door opened and a timid young woman appeared in the doorway – she was speaking over her shoulder and once she glanced towards the couches, you gave her a soft smile and she walked past you to Peter at the front desk to pay.

Peter greeted her happily and began the process of the transaction, but heavy boot falls in the booth made your gaze snap towards the source, smiling wide at finding Bucky leaning against the frame, arms crossed so his tattoos rippled and moved with the corded muscle. He was staring at you with a blank expression, null and void of any tells, though there was a glimmer of happiness in his eyes that filled your heart and fuelled the butterflies to a dull roar.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you!” You rushed, getting to your feet just as the young woman left the shop. As soon as she was out the door, there was a collective exhale of breath in relief. “Tough day?”

“What gave it away, Sunny?” Steve groaned as he stood in the doorway of his own booth, rubbing his face and mussing his hair and neatly trimmed beard. “It seemed that flash day means all the tough clients come outta the woods at once.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nat piped up, stretching to the ceiling and cracking her back. The burgundy leather jacket she wore gleamed in the low light while it complemented her creeping neck tattoos. “I had all the sweet ones then.”

“Yeah, because you intimidate the shit out of ‘em, Nat,” Bucky said, a brow raised in challenge. Nat only shrugged, a coy grin on her blood red lips.

“Today was fun though,” Peter yawned, and you watched as Bucky and Steve rolled their eyes in unison.

“Trust the apprentice to be all rainbows and shit,” Bucky mumbled. “Let’s close up for the night. I wanna go home.”

Everyone left the reception in favour of returning to their booths, and you followed behind Bucky, bottle of Jacks in hand. The donuts lay on the table amongst the neatly stacked portfolios for later – that’s if Steve and Nat didn’t run off with them before you could walk out the door.

“How are you feeling, Buck?” You asked, watching as he flexed his left arm and clenched his hand in a fist before releasing it with a wince. “Are you alright?”

Bucky looked over at you and nodded once. “‘M fine, sweetheart,” he said softly while he cleaned up the tray of ink caps and the rest of his station. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m good,” you said, maybe a little too quick, because Bucky’s gaze snapped up and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “I’m being honest-”

Slowly, Bucky stepped around from his cart and came to stand right in front of you, his gaze heavy with that critical eye and his habit for problem solving. “No, you’re not, Sunshine.”

Damn it, you cursed in your head, and it must have traitorously flickered across your expression because Bucky hesitated only slightly before his arms suddenly enveloped you and pulled you against his chest. The sudden movement forced a quiet, “oof!” from your lips before you could bite it back – though the feeling of him holding you, as rare as it was, was never unwelcome.

“I know you like hugs, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, his voice just a low rumble in his chest. “Jus’ lemme hold you for a minute, alright?”

Your heart seized and tears burned in the corner of your eyes at his words. Bucky held you so tightly and you were forced to loop your arms around his middle while you rested your cheek on his shoulder – it was indescribable.

Touch was not something Bucky gave freely – sure, it was his job to touch and manipulate and move clients, but it never meant anything more than him just doing his job. He never initiated a hug to Nat, Steve, or even Peter, it was something entirely off the table for him, though here he was, pushing past what he would normally be comfortable with and initiating such a tender embrace to you.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you mumbled. Bucky squeezed you tight for just a second in reply, and when he relaxed his hold, the vice in your chest had lessened significantly.

“Jus’ wanna take care of my girl, ‘s all,” Bucky said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear, but you stiffened.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky hastened, his voice suddenly sharp and he pulled away, leaving you standing by the chair, dumbfounded and in shock. “Forget I said anything, let’s get outta here, huh?”

“No, no wait,” you rushed forward, grabbing his arm while you felt your eyes shine with tears – from what: fear, shock, or happiness, you couldn’t tell. “What did you say?”

A long stretch of silence passed before Bucky met your pleading gaze, but he was frowning slightly, as if he was considering every outcome in the blink of an eye. It was unbearable, and you shook his arm slightly, ignoring the way the muscles didn’t budge under your grip.

“I said I wanted to take care of my girl.”

The tension cracked and split like a whip had cleaved through it, and a heavy breath left your lips. “Your girl?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding stiffly.

“Are you-” You tried, but stopped. The sudden dryness in your mouth made it difficult to form the words. “Are you saying… what I think you’re saying?”

Bucky held your stare. “Yes.”

“Oh, my god,” you rushed, and you slammed into his chest to wrap your arms around his middle again – this time he was the one that let out a surprised “oof!” before he wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“Took you fuckin’ long enough!” Steve cried suddenly and you whirled around. Somehow, while engrossed in your panicked train of thought, and Bucky being stuck in his own version of panicking, Steve and Nat had quietly opened the door to eavesdrop. “Nat, you owe me fifty bucks.”

“Dammit,” Nat grumbled before her heels clicked on the floor, the sound muffling the further she walked away.

The fact that they had placed bets on this didn’t leave you feeling surprised in the slightest, if you were honest – Nat had known something was up, naturally, and she made it a point to stare expectantly whenever you would become flustered by literally anything Bucky did: paying special attention to you, calling you Sunshine, or how he was fiercely protective of you, all of which you found out when you went out to coffee with her. She had snorted and laughed at the obviously hilarious expression of shock upon finding any of that out – you had thought you were subtle, dammit.

Stevie, well, he was Bucky’s best friend – you can only hide so much from the person you were with most, if not all of the working day. It also didn’t help Stevie was a nosy sonofabitch on the best of days. “Can’t make a plan without all the variables, Sunny,” Stevie would say smugly whenever you questioned him, a proud, knowing smirk on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You glanced up at Bucky to see him burning holes through the door to the back of his friends as they made a hasty retreat – there was no way he was clued in on that little game.

“Hey, guys, wait up!” Peter yelled as the bell sounded, followed by his rushed footsteps. “See you tomorrow, Boss!” Bucky didn’t reply as the door closed behind Peter and the shop was silent again – just the two of you.

The slight furrow in his brow and the pensive frown on his lips made your hands grow clammy with nervous sweat; you couldn’t tell what Bucky was thinking, and it was infuriating.

Minutes stretched by, or seconds, you couldn’t tell – you were trapped in his gaze, lost in the thoughts racing through your mind, did he truly mean what he said?

You startled slightly when Bucky’s hand suddenly cupped your cheek, not having seen him move his arm. “So,” he said slowly. The softening of his eyes made your heart flutter – this was your Bucky, a gentle, soft soul that looked out for you.

“Bucky?” You whispered. Bucky only hummed quietly, moving his hands to hold both of yours, the cold bite of his rings caused a shiver to crawl up your spine.

“What d’you say, Sunshine?” Bucky asked, still slow and thoughtful, like he was weighing every word. The tension grew to be unbearable and it was all you could do to keep your breathing even, you wished his intense gaze would waver, or he would look away – just for a damned second.

You licked your lips, shuffling your feet on the spot. “That depends on what you’re as-”

“Be my girl?”

Time stopped. Your heart stopped, ceasing its pounding rhythm for a millisecond before kick-starting thunderously. Sure, he had called you his girl more than once, but hearing him ask if you would be? You prayed to whoever would listen above that you would survive this, for you were floating on cloud nine and you did not want to come back down.

“I-I,” you stumbled, growing even more flustered at the glint in his eyes – you couldn’t tell what he was feeling but you felt pinned, in the best possible way. “Yeah, yeah I want to be your Sunshine, Buck-”

Your stomach swooped at the sudden and entirely unexpected feeling of his lips on yours, and his hands – god, his hands, one moved to hold the side of your throat, the other cupped your face. He set the pace easily and you eagerly followed, you had been craving this for so long that it was almost unbelievable.

To make doubly sure you weren’t dreaming, more than the desire to touch him, you ran your hands up his arms to rest them on his broad shoulders and you felt him smile into the kiss. “It’s real, sweetheart, ‘m here,” Bucky said against your lips, and you sighed happily.

The warm smile Bucky gave you as he pulled away made you miss his touch, even though he had only taken a single step away. “I’ll finish cleanin’ up and then we can get outta here, we have a lot to celebrate, Sunshine, don’t we?”

The butterflies in your stomach became a frenzy at his words, and you nodded shyly. “They’re going to lose their minds, aren’t they?” You mused, sitting on the rolling stool while you waited for him to finish up. “Nat and the guys, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, zipping up his case. “Yeah, they will, the bastards. Bettin’ on their fuckin’ boss, I oughta fire all of ‘em.” You laughed heartily and Bucky smirked.

Once Bucky’s station had been tidied and cleaned for the next day, he reached a hand out and you accepted it happily. “Let’s get outta here, I gotta treat my girl to a nice night, huh?”

“Only if we take your bike,” you said, squeezing Bucky’s hand and he looked over at you curiously. “I want to fly.”

Bucky only chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t have to tell me twice, sweetheart.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #Connect4AU #JAS #rookthorne's works

2K notes · View notes

leclucklerc · 7 months

Text

Check Point MV1 - 00. Opening Sequence

Pairings: Max Verstappen x Actress!Reader

Summary: She should've realized that coming back to Formula One after quitting the sport years ago is a bad idea. Especially considering that most of your childhood friends and rivals from your karting days are now in the paddock.

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist Next

The thing is, y/n l/n loves racing.

Maybe it's in her blood, maybe it's the way she was raised, maybe it's her calling. She doesn't know. All she knows, is that all her life, she had been in love with racing.

It's the way her eyes lit up when her father gave her her first kart. It's the way she absolutely relishes in the feeling of adrenaline and wind as she swept through the track. It's the way she would laugh and play with the kids during racing weekends.

As a young child, watching her father drive the world's fastest car in the highest form of motorsport has been fascinating. More than fascinating, really. Watching the man that she could proudly call dad living his dream as he made his way to become one of the most legendary figures in formula one.

The red car that always finished first. Her dad who always climbed out, fist pointing towards the sky - as if he's communicating or thanking with a higher power - as cheers and yells full of excitement reverberated through the air.

She could still remember the bright red flags being waved in the air. How the tifosi's cheered for her dad, how the race track became the liveliest place on earth.

To the young y/n, everything had been so fascinating.

Reynold l/n had been a four time formula one world driver's champion under Ferrari. One of the most legendary drivers to ever existed, someone that had inspired so many young children to take up the challenge of formula one.

One of them, is his own daughter.

It was the main reason why she took up karting at such a young age. Wanting to feel the thrill and excitement just like her father. To see, what made this sport so addicting and so so enthralling. To share this love with the father that she had loved so much.

And yes, y/n loves it.

She absolutely loves it. How her heart would be thumping wildly as she could hear her father cheering in the distance. How with each race, she felt as if she was closer and closer to her father. How she would won races, smiling and laughing, imagining the small podium as an actual Formula One podium.

It was amazing, it was addicting.

Besides that, anyone with two eyes can see that y/n has a talent in racing. At first, her father had worry immensely that she would stand out in a bad way considering that she's a girl in a male dominated sport. That she would be pushed around or be belittled by the people around her.

That worry turns out to be unfounded considering how amazing the girl is at the track. After all, she's not only a girl who's karting. She's a girl who's winning in karting. Y/n always stood on the podiums with her male counterparts, proving that yes, a girl can succeed in this sport. That gender has nothing to do with talent and hard work.

Her racing trophies could be seen lining up the walls of her house, accompanying her parents. His father would boast his daughter's apparent talent in racing to everyone that would listen and well, everyone will listen to Reynold l/n if he started talking.

If anyone had asked her what her first love is, she would say racing.

Racing is her first love, no doubt about that. Though, racing, is not the only thing that she loves.

Because the thing is, as much as y/n loves her father, she also loves her mother. As much as she had idolized her father, she too, idolized her mother greatly.

The beautiful Nicole Merle-y/n had been Hollywood's icon once upon a time. Or maybe, she still is. An amazing actress with beautiful face and peerless talent. A woman, that had become an icon in the entertainment industry. Many of her movies had become a classic, spanning generations upon generations.

Back during the height of her career, she would become the muse of so many musicians. Love songs would be made while thinking of her, and romantic movies would be produced with her as a lead actress.

Just like her father races, as a child, y/n too had watched her mother acted in front of the cameras. The way the woman could shift her emotion so seamlessly, how tears would drop from her eyes on command, how she can command the attention of the room with a single glance.

Her mother is a woman that y/n aspires to be.

A femme fatale that can make men fall in love with a single glance. An independent woman with her own value and stance. An actress, that shine in front of a camera so brightly.

During her younger years, aside of racing, y/n also acts during the off season. From smaller roles as a side character in her mother's films or even the main character in a movie with a child protagonist. Similar to karting, it was not long before people realized that oh, she's also talented in this.

As expected of her mother's daughter. As expected, from the child of Hollywood's icon.

She's the youngest actor to be nominated for an Oscar for her lead role. She actually won an Oscar for her supporting role despite her young age. Many people thinks that she's the second calling of her mother. The next Hollywood's A-lister that will take the entertainment industry by storm.

Y/n l/n, a girl who has everything.

For the longest time, y/n had insisted on doing both. That both racing and acting is important for her and there's no way she can let one of them go-

"The Ferrari driving academy wants you in their program," said her father after one of her race. The adrenaline is still high and she's still holding her first place trophy tightly. "They want you to debut in GP3 shortly."

Y/n blinked at that.

From besides her, her mother let out a laugh. "Ah, isn't that amazing?" she said. "Did the academy called you?" The last bit was asked directly towards her father.

Her father shrugged. "Stefano also called," he said as they walked towards their car. "He said that there's a possibility that y/n is going to become one of... Ferrari's future talent for their F1 team."

And, isn't that the big news?

Stefano Domenicali is Ferraris' formula one team principal. He's the team principal of the team that her father used to drive with and won three driver championship. He's the team principal of one of the top team in formula one.

He's also a man that seems interested in her talent.

"Amazing," said her mother. "It's an amazing offer!"

"I know," said her father too. "But this also comes with a consequence."

Time seems to stop at that. His father didn't even have to clarify what the consequences are because the three of them know.

"Darling," started her father as he crouched in front of her. "You know what this means right?"

Y/n nodded, eyes staring at the older man. "If we accept that offer, I'm going to be a full-time racing driver," she started, small hands hugging the trophy on hand tightly. "I- I have to follow a sportsman training, which will take a lot of time and strength." She continues.

"Yes," said her father. "That is true."

"Which means, I can't do both racing and acting anymore," said the girl, eyes flicking towards where her mother stood, also staring at her. "I have to give up acting if I want to accept that offer."

Her father ruffled her hair. "You can take your time to think about this," said the man. "Max also got called up for Red Bull Driver Academy recently right? Maybe you can discuss this with him."

The girl nodded at that. Her childhood friends did told her that he was being called up for Red Bull junior program a few weeks ago. He had been so excited and she too, had been excited for that.

"What about you, Dad?" she asked, desperately trying to avoid his gaze. She doesn't want to see any doubt or disappointment on his eyes. "Which one do you think I should pursue?"

"Well," started the man. "You tell me, it's your life darling. It's your decision, I don't want to influence it in any way."

"Y/n" said her mom gently, caressing her cheek. "Both of your father and I had talked about this," she said gently. "It really is your decision; we don't want to force you."

Y/n stared at her.

Racing or acting.

She loves racing and yet at the same time, she also loves acting. The two activities that she loves the most in the world.

From the start, she knows that both of them needs a lot of dedication and time. That to do both at the same time would be impossible. Still, she held out toward the small hope that maybe – just maybe – there's a possibility that she can do both.

If she takes up the offer, she probably have to move to Maranello and live there or somewhere close. There's a chance where she won't have enough time off to shot any movie of series. There's also a chance that when she finally got into GP3 or the higher category, racing will consume her life fully.

Y/n loves racing, she really do.

But can she gives up acting for racing?

Or can she give up racing for acting?

Reality came crushing down and it is time for y/n to choose.

"And that's the story of how I almost became a Formula one driver," laughed 24 years old y/n l/n with a charming smile. "But I guess, all of you know what decision that I made that day."

Amidst the bright studio lights and setup, the female positively glows. From the way her black dress hunched elegantly as she sat, towards the magnetic gaze that she directed to everyone in the room. When y/n l/n is in the room, it's impossible to look away from the female.

It's no wonder that the highly acclaimed actor had won many awards over the years. Many of her works had been praised highly and even won many many oscars. To anyone who had seen the female act, they all would've thought that she was born to do it.

So it's a bit surprising to hear that not only the female almost gave up acting, she almost gave up acting to be a racing driver.

Jimmy Kimmel let an actual laugh at that, half disbelieving. In his hand, a picture of y/n's karting days could be seen by everyone on the studio. She could see the small racing suit as well as the bright pink helmet that her father gave her years ago. Certainly, it brings back memories.

"I mean, that is an interesting story!" said the man as he put down the picture. "Formula one is so different from being an actress!"

"I agree," she said good-naturedly. "it would've changed the trajectory of my life tremendously."

"But tell me, did your father got mad by your decision?"

The actress let out a twinkling laugh, eyes creasing. "He's upset for maybe a day or so," said the female, remembering how her father had said that he was not disappointed but sulked around the house for some time. "Though we made up when I cooked him a breakfast in bed a few days later."

"Amazing!" said Jimmy, laughing at the answer. "It's like choosing between your dad and mom, right?"

"For sure," she said. "When I ended up choosing to act my mom was so smug about it. Though, that doesn't mean my love for the sport has dwindled, me and my dad still follow the races often on tv."

Nodding, Jimmy decided that it's time for them to change towards the next topic. "Speaking of Formula one, the Miami Grand Prix is around the corner," he started, learning forward a bit. "Are you going to attend?"

Y/n tilted her head a bit, making sure that the camera captured her charming points. The question hangs in the air as she began ponders the answer. Truthfully, the last time that she had come into a formula one race in person was back when she was 17. It was fun, meeting all of her dad's friends and she even had the chance to tour the paddock and watch the race from the Ferrari's garage.

Though, over the years, as she became busier and her schedule became more packed, following the sport live is almost impossible. After all 22 races in 22 countries is a lot and she can't possibly tune in live to every each of them.

The Miami Grand Prix this year is different.

While formula one had always been a popular sport back in Europe, it had never taken off in America. At least, until the last few years. She began noticing more and more people talked about formula one in LA. Maybe it's because of the Netflix documentary? Or maybe it's because there's a change in management? Who knows.

All she knows, this year Miami Grand Prix will be different from any other races. Every celebrity that she knows will be there. Literally.

Even if she has no interest in Formula One, she's sure that her agent will somehow make her attend the event. Either for publicity or maybe as the brand ambassador of one of the sponsors. After all, there is no way she'll miss out the hottest event in the past few years.

"Hmm," she hummed playfully. "I mean, I do have a father-daughter bonding day scheduled in Miami GP," she said, making cheers and claps erupted in the studio.

Laughing, Jimmy nodded his head. "Great then!" he said. "Are you excited to see the sport that you almost become a star in?" asked the man. "Maybe you will have a change of a heart in the upcoming grand prix."

"Doubt it," she said cheekily. "Considering my movie will be released this month."

"And that ladies and gentlemen, is the final plug for the night, Product of Glory will be out in theatres at the 1st of May!"

With that final say, y/n let out a beautiful smile as Jimmy did his closing ment as he thanked her for her participation in the show before she exited the stage.

#formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfic #f1 fanfiction #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #Max Verstappen fanfiction #Max Verstappen x reader

564 notes · View notes

redflagshipwriter · 1 month

Text

Hot Ghouls in your area ch 6

part 1

Masterpost

Danny felt like something scraped off the pavement. Through an act of absolutely heroic willpower (and outright fear of Jazz trying to help him rebalance his workload) he made it through his morning classes.

He staggered away from campus, brain buzzing tiredly over numbers and formulas and also his accidental concubine.

Nope. He shook his head rigorously. “I need a pick me up,” Danny decided. He ignored the common sense that said ‘coffee isn't going to fix this.’ Sure. That was true. But it wouldn't hurt, would it? And he was way overdue for the first meal of the day.

He shouldered his way into a café near campus. This wasn't one of the most convenient ones or one of the trendy ones with different seeds or organic whatever baked goods on rotation.

Nah. It was dark, mostly empty, and multiple tables were along the wall with nice views of the windows and door. The only other customers he had seen in this place were 50+. Well, there had been a high school girl inside once, but she'd clearly come in because her grandmother was the owner. Danny beelined to his preferred table and unloaded his backpack onto the spare chair before he gratefully collapsed.

Ah. Dark. Quiet. He slouched onto the table a bit.

“You look tired,” said the owner.

Danny lifted his head just enough to give her a cheesy smile. “Can I get a coffee, please?” He croaked. “And- is it still lunch hours?” They stopped doing lunch at two, didn't they? Shoot. What time-

“I can do lunch,” she reassured. She scribbled something deftly onto a pad of paper. “Roast beef sandwich set?”

“I will protect you with my life,” Danny vowed.

She laughed and turned away, but he was for real for real. Danny forced himself to sit up enough to look around his surroundings. He wanted to stay awake. He had just one more class today - a 4 to 5:30 lab. Once he got through that, he could go to bed.

Huh.

He accidentally made eye contact with a young guy holding up a book. Danny lifted a single wave and then looked away awkwardly.

‘Wait a second.’

Danny did a double take.

Yes. Yes, that fucker was holding up a copy of a book from the library in Pariah's keep. It had ghost writing on it.

The guy slowly, pointedly lifted an eyebrow. He was- he was hot and huge and Danny had seen him lift like 200 lbs of books like they were nothing at all.

Danny flushed bright red and buried his face in his hands.

Okay. Okay, so that was Jason's face. How had he found Danny??? That was absurd. …Was it a threat? It felt kinda threatening. Was he in like, danger? Danny pulled his hands away from his face and squinted as subtly as he could at his hellion of a ghost spouse. What kind of sick mind game was it to lurk along his daily route and passive aggressively remind him that he should be working on their divorce?

Worse than that. This was the fastest anyone had ever found his personal identity. Fear and confusion trawled around his gut. How? Literally how? Danny raced back through his memory of their conversation and kicked himself over every misstep he could remember. Clearly, Jason had been prodding him for enough information to trick him into doxxing himself. It was a betrayal, honestly.

Wait. The burner phone. Danny didn't know how, but Jason must have been able to track it. It was a trick.

Danny gave him a nasty look when he figured that out.

Jason pretended to be absorbed in his book. The bastard!

Danny got tenser and tenser, the tendons in his hand flexing into visibility on top of the table.

He felt guilty about not dropping everything and then resentful that apparently Jason wanted him to. He had other things to do, okay? His school life was important.

“Here's your coffee.”

“Thanks,” Danny said automatically, and moved his hands to free up space for the cup and little container of cream. He immediately spooned in sugar and dumped in all the cream. He was way too grateful for something to do with his hands. He breathed in steam and then took a careful sip. It was a good chance to steal another glance at Jason through his lashes.

Jason was still pretending not to pay attention to him.

What was his deal?

His plate came. Danny ate mashed potatoes and gravied meat with more viciousness than usual, casting dark looks at Jason over the vividly orange carrots he speared into his mouth.

The sugar, caffeine, and confused anger hit his nervous system and converted itself helpfully into energy. Danny buzzed with energy. He was going to tell Jason to back off, he decided. The guy still hadn't moved other than to sip at what had to be ice cold tea by now.

“Do you have a problem?” Jason drawled. For the first time, he shut the book and fixed his green eyes directly on Danny.

“I was wondering what your problem is, actually,” Danny shot back. He gave a pointed look to the book. “Real funny bringing that out in public.” His gaze tracked back up to make eye contact and then his brain stuttered.

Holy cow. That was an ecto sheen on his eyes.

‘... I've already contaminated him?’

“It's just a book,” Jason said, voice full of fake confusion. As if he hadn't brought it there to make a point!

Yeah, okay. Danny scoffed. “Whatever, asshole,” he dismissed. He dug money out of his wallet and slapped it on the table to cover his lunch. He barely remembered to grab his backpack through the haze of anger. “I'm sure I'll see you soon.” He took the time to aim an ugly face at Jason on the way out, pulling his lower eyelids down and sticking out his tongue. He barreled out the door while Jason was still sputtering in his fake ass shock.

Boo! That jerk!

#red hot ghouls #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main #jason todd #danny fenton #Jason fails to enjoy a nice cup of chamomile

236 notes · View notes

taeraemisu · 8 months

Text

i found you ; gunwook zb1

synopsis ; gunwook and reader were lovers in their past life but a certain accident kills the two, separating them. gunwook, who remembers all his past lives, made it his personal mission to find reader over and over again, even if it meant living multiple lifetimes without them

genre ; based on see you in my 19th life ! (was listening to one of their ost while writing this) reincarnation, soulmates if you think, angst, i-love-you-in-every-universe, deaths

pairings ; gunwook x reader, mentions of junhyeon

word count ; 1.5k words

“look at what i got!”

gunwook looks up and sees you wearing a new semi-formal outfit. the both of you were in his house, just wanting to spend the day together. gunwook shows you his signature smile and ruffled your hair. maybe there are good things to look forward to in life. “i think you look great, what’s the occasion?”

“no occasion, i just wanted to look good.”

gunwook smiles again and pokes your cheek. he does not hesitate to show you how much he adores you. he had lived so many different lives that he never bothered to find love, but yet you, were different. knowing most of his lives were short-lived, he never hesitated to tell you how much you mean to him. this time though, he is praying for a life where he could grow old with you. “you always look good,” he says, admiring you once more.

you blushed slightly and hit his shoulder playfully. “you and your way of words-“

he grins and gives you a hug, cutting your words off. “let’s go out today. we can’t let that good outfit go to waste, can we?” he holds your hand and picks up a few of his belongings, before leaving the house and heading to the car. he opens the car door and lets you go in first. “after you, my lady,” gunwook says in a british accent. you laughed at his words and get in, gunwook closing the door after you before getting into the driver’s seat.

you both drive off, you admiring how gunwook looks while driving. how could you get so lucky? you were not that affectionate of a person but gunwook knew that he means to you as much as you mean to him. “hey gunwook have i ever told you-“

the screeching of the tires rang throughout your ears, causing the both of you to flung forward and back, your foreheads bleeding upon impact. glass shards flew everywhere, cutting your skin before you passed out momentarily.

no, no, no! gunwook panicked when he regained consciousness, barely able to open his eyes. the both of you were now on the ground, the car flipped over. he quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and crawled his way towards you, unbuckling yours and trying to drag you out of the car with as little energy he have left. “yn! wake up! please!” he pleads, tears pouring out of his eyes. he pokes your cheek softly, hoping you wake up. he feels his energy start to drain away and he knew he did not have that much time left.

“yn, you can’t hear me but-“ his voice cracks and he lays down beside you, losing his energy. “i will find you, please, remember me.” gunwook was crying by now, you weren’t responding to him. “i will remember you so promise me you will, please?”

sirens were ringing in his ear and he wanted to see you do any sort of sign that you heard what he said. why was life so unfair? why did his current life end so early when he was finally happy?

“yn, i-“

and it all went black.

first life without you . .

gunwook groans. he was reborn as the son of a conglomerate family. although his current life is luckier than most, he could not enjoy it.

you weren’t here.

he did not know where to start. how could he find you? what are the chances you will remember him? or your past life? he was currently 23 years old, twenty-three years without you.

“i arranged a blind date for you,” his father enters the room, giving gunwook the details. he sighs but doesn’t protest. going on blind dates was the fastest way to find you.

he went on the date, but he did not like it. she was someone who was arrogant and believed she should get her way, which was so different from you that it disgusted gunwook. he left halfway through the date, not wanting to deal with her further.

how much longer could he live without you?

third life without you . .

gunwook was reborn as the son of a nice couple that owns a family restaurant. gunwook took full advantage of the fact, serving and helping out as much as he can. with more customers, the higher the chance he could find you.

he has now lived forty-eight years without you, his previous two lives being short, but it wasn’t worth living if it meant you weren’t around.

“this is for table 2.” his mother handed him a tray with stir-fried noodles with mayonnaise all over it and tempura on the side. gunwook looked at the dish. it was your favourite food. he remembers the first time he has seen you eating this particular combo and how unappealing it looked, but you were adamant on how good it was. gunwook had once took a bite and realised it was actually delicious but because he did not want to admit you were right, he would make the dish behind your back.

the memory brought a smile to his face and he quickly went to serve the dish, a little hopeful but to his dismay, it was someone that he immediately knew wasn’t you.

“enjoy your food,” he says, a little disappointed before turning away.

sixth life without you . .

gunwook has now lived a hundred and fifteen years without you. in this life however, he was blessed with the ability to sing and dance. in fact, his name was the one he was given when he first met you. he was park gunwook again.

“you should audition to be an idol!” his friend, kum junhyeon, would constantly tell him but gunwook would always shake his head, disagreeing. he does not want to bring any attention to himself, when he still could not find you.

“you being an idol or famous could help you find that person you have been wanting to find-“

gunwook did not have to listen further. he immediately recorded and posted a video of him singing to a song and it went viral almost immediately. he has been scouted by companies to train under them but he declined them all, hoping to stay independent. junhyeon, however, has taken the role of his manager, helping gunwook edit videos and secure any deals.

a year or so have past by since then and gunwook made a small name for himself. he performs at small cafes and restaurants and holds small fanmeetings every now and then. only to find you, of course, but yet, he was making very little progress.

“the fansign starts in a few minutes,” junhyeon mentions, preparing gunwook before he gets on stage. “maybe the person you like is here?”

gunwook sighs. he does not want to give up but his chances are getting slimmer and slimmer. “i don’t know man, what if they aren’t here?”

junhyeon gives his friend a sad smile. “even if they aren’t maybe …” his eyes goes all over the place, finding a way to cheer his friend up. “i am sure they are cheering for you from afar!”

gunwook returns a smile before heading onto stage, greeting fans and soon, the autograph session begins. an hour or so passed, the autograph session ending but with no sign of you. he has lived over a hundred years without you, how much longer must he live till he finds you again?

“no luck?” junhyeon asked, patting him on the back. gunwook shakes his head, disappointed but not surprised. junhyeon drops him off at home, assuring him that there is a right time for everything. he drives off, leaving gunwook standing in front of his apartment block.

disappointed and sad, gunwook heads to the nearby convenience store. he did not have the urge to cook anything. he goes in and bought a few items for himself, planning to have his late-night snack in the store itself. he opens a bag of chips and pops a few into his mouth when-

“i didn’t go to the fansign.”

gunwook, intrigued, turned to look at the person who was sitting a few chairs away from him, talking onto the phone. for a moment, he thought it was about him but he wasn’t that famous so he dismissed the thought away, not wanting to stare.

“i wanted to okay! but my boss needed me to work and i just … didn’t go. it’s probably better that way, i would have panicked and not talk at all as soon as i see the park gunwook.”

gunwook’s ears perked up and looked right back again. the way the person said his name felt all too familiar.

“there will be another chance in the future-“ the person turned to looked at gunwook and that’s when everything clicked.

it was you.

“i have to go, bye.” you hung up the phone and stared at gunwook, embarrassed that you were just fangirling over him when he was right beside you. but an unknown feeling came over you as you look at him. then, everything clicked.

“i found you.”

“it’s you.”

#taeraemisu #zb1 #boys planet #zb1 imagines #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone #park gunwook #gunwook x reader #gunwook imagines #zb1 gunwook #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 oneshots #zb1 scenarios #zb1 reactions #park gunwook x reader #zerobaseone x reader

549 notes · View notes

fandom · 1 year

Photo

Poles, podiums, and the best of the rest.

Who are all these handsome young men in colorful jumpsuits that seem to have taken over your dashboard this year? And where exactly are they going in those really fast cars?????

Over the past few years, Formula 1 has spread into all corners of culture, and Tumblr is no exception. People around the world have learned about F1’s 70 years of history, its international circuits in cities like Monaco and Abu Dhabi, and its Grand Prix schedule of Free Practice, Qualifying, and the races themselves. Tumblr being Tumblr, though, it’s really all about the drivers: 20 of them per year, two for each of the ten official teams. Add in all the other assorted characters that orbit around the current grid, and you have quite the lineup to follow each weekend.

F1 and its fast boys have been appearing in our Week in Review lists as far back as 2020, and on last year’s Year In Review Athletes list, drivers took up a healthy 6 out of the top 10 spots. This year, the sport’s domination of the dashboard kicked it up a notch: There was an 18% increase in engagement with the Formula 1 tag in 2022 compared with last year, and Lestappen (aka Max Verstappen/Charles Leclerc) became the very first F1 ship to hit a Week In Review ships list on July 10, 2022.

A lot of this might have something to do with the growing popularity of Netflix’s Drive to Survive docuseries, which follows the twists and turns of each F1 season, shining a light on the personal lives of the drivers and their team members. Tumblr’s interest in the sport just feels natural: with all of its drama, excitement, and contained, charismatic, and frequently controversial ensemble cast, it seems tailor-made for Tumblr users who enjoy sports anime and adventure dramas.

So, what’s the pitch for F1? Whether you root for the underdog or support the champion, there’s a storyline for you. The interweaving backstories of the drivers, many of whom have grown up driving together since they were kids, are like catnip to Tumblr’s love for characters with history. And, of course, there are the races themselves—high-tech cars going hundreds of miles per hour. What’s not to love?

Or, as @gaslightgirlsummer puts it: these men are all millionaire tax evaders trying to kill each other and/or themselves in the fastest cars on the planet (that are worth more money than most people will ever have in their lifetimes) on a weekly basis.

Whether a longtime fan or newly interested, you’ve probably seen F1 around Tumblr this year, featuring in fan art, GIFsets, and a plentiful amount of very silly memes. But, in case you’ve ever been curious about who Tumblr loves the most, here are the top 35 Formula 1 tags in 2022, featuring not just current drivers but retired drivers, reserve drivers, upcoming drivers, race engineers, and team principals, too.

Lewis Hamilton

Charles Leclerc

Daniel Ricciardo

Sebastian Vettel

Max Verstappen

Lando Norris

Mick Schumacher

Pierre Gasly

George Russell

Carlos Sainz

Yuki Tsunoda

Valtteri Bottas

Alex Albon

Esteban Ocon

Fernando Alonso

Lance Stroll

Sergio Perez

Toto Wolff

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Kimi Raikkonen

Oscar Piastri

Antonio Giovinazzi

Nicholas Latifi

Nico Rosberg

Christian Horner

Michael Schumacher

Callum Illott

Jenson Button

Mattia Binotto

Nyck De Vries

Peter Bonnington

Mark Webber

Zak Brown

Nico Hulkenberg

And, because it wouldn’t be Formula 1 without a Constructor’s Championship, here’s the ranking of teams on Tumblr:

McLaren

Ferrari

Mercedes

Red Bull

Aston Martin

Haas

Alpine

Alfa Romeo

Williams

AlphaTauri

#year in review #formula 1 #tumblr2022

2K notes · View notes

digitalsymbiote · 2 months

Text

The Solar Sprint

You ever heard of the Cannonball Run? It was a thing back on earth, back before corpo wars. It was an unsanctioned race across a continent. Folks would trick out cars with extra fuel tanks, police scanners, the works, and just burn their way from one ocean to the other. Driving for something like a day straight, avoiding cops all the way, and only stopping to refuel. Kinda wild, don’t you think? A test of speed and stamina, seeing how hard you could really push your vehicle.

That’s what the Solar Sprint started out as, you know. First time someone ran it, the Jovian blockade was still up. They blew right past the military lines, their mech too fast for any of those combat frames to catch. It was big news at the time, everyone thought it was some secret R.O.M. tech built to break the blockade. Turned out it was just some wrench-head who wanted to see how fast they could get from Mercury to Neptune. The crazy fucker actually did it too, straight shot from the solar collection station on Mercury, all the way to the NDS Research outpost. The scientists there nearly shit themselves when the Runner went blasting past their observatory like that. Can’t imagine they saw any frames out there that weren’t clunky research models before then, especially with the blockade still up.

There’s still footage of the first sprint up on the Net if you look. Some cargo hauler caught footage of the Runner nearly side-swipping his freight ship between Earth and Venus. There was a leaked clip of them breaking the Jovian blockade too, but you might be hard pressed to find that one these days. runners sometimes carry hard copies though, so if you run into the right people you might be able to see it.

It became a whole thing, y’know? Kind of a fuck you to the corps, the wars, all of it. Building frames in a different way, not just for blowing each other up. Was a kind of creative revolution, an expression of freedom. Corps can’t keep us down, yeah? Something like a thousand runners tried it over the next couple years. Not all of em made it; some of em got caught by the blockade, some of em their frames couldn’t handle the trek. But enough of em made it that it started to become a real competition. Who could make the sprint in the fastest time? Folks posted on forums about crazy ideas they were coming up with for propellants, aerodynamics, you name it. Gearheads across the net had a brand new obsession to pour over.

Soon enough though, the corps caught on, realized it was easier to sanction the thing than to try and stop people from doing it. Enough cargo freighters crashed, enough blockades ran, it became more profitable to make an event out of the thing. The Sprint lost some of it’s luster after that. Speed frames plastered with sponsorships and built with corpo parts didn’t really capture the energy of the original run. The yearly Sprint is technically open to public teams, but any self respecting Runner isn’t gonna attempt it during sanctioned times. Kinda defeats the purpose of it all if they clear the shipping lanes and wait for optimal conditions, right?

Every once in a while though, you might spot somebodies custom frame sitting in orbit around the solar collection station. And who knows? They might be the next crazy wrench-head to break that record.

#cybernetic dreams #mechposting #mecha #mechs #mech pilots #writing #microfiction #short story

165 notes · View notes

stormberry-12 · 10 months

Text

faceless // P1: the mask... take it off ~ charles leclerc x reader

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader

includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n".

Bold Italics are the past.

Normal Italics are thoughts or radio messages.

summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

Come on y/n! you told yourself. You could feel the car beneath you hum as you broke smoothly into the corner, speeding up once again on the straight. Repeating these movements over and over like clockwork, as you did laps around the track, maintaining your position in first.

Throttle.

Break.

Turn.

Repeat.

Driving in a car as nice as a Red Bull felt euphoric, the car was sleek and fast. You glided across the pavement with the perfect amount of traction, you could overtake in your sleep.

"Nice work 66, you've lapped the back of the grid. Tsunoda coming up on your right at P20." your race engineer informed.

Clicking on your voice changer and the radio you responded, "Roger, thanks Rick,"

You lapped multiple people, continuing to feel at ease behind the wheel, your race could not be going better and you were well on your way to pulling ahead of your competition in the championship standings.

But you see, that was kind of a stressor...

Your boyfriend Charles had no fucking clue you were racing, hell he didn't even know you had ever stepped foot near a car before you met him. When you got the call from Christian Horner that he wanted you on the team you were beyond ecstatic, but of course, being the first woman in Formula One, there were some hesitations.

You had never had a huge social media presence and the thought of interviews made you nervous. Not to mention the massive fan population of Formula One that you felt already stalked you enough after meeting Charles.

Voicing your concerns with your new team principal was not a problem, and to be honest it sounded like he agreed with everything you had to say. Making you feel confident about your choice, even if you had nerves going into this alone and keeping it from your boyfriend.

"I completely understand y/n," Christian said over the phone. "I think if we send you out into the media, the drivers and them will eat you alive, not saying you couldn't handle it but that is a lot of unnecessary pressure."

"Yes," you replied. "And I want to be taken seriously, I believe people not knowing I'm a woman might just make my life a whole lot easier."

"And this is why I picked you y/n, you're serious about your work and are smart about it. I think this year is going to work out just fine."

You and Christian whipped up the plan to create a mysterious persona. You would use a voice-altering device at all times, people called you 66, no interviews or media were ever allowed, and absolutely no one could know your real identity. Not even your teammate Max, who had clearly been fuming since Horner started to favor your superior driving skills on the track, without even having a name.

"Box, box," Rick quipped, pulling you out of your thoughts, that sounded about right. You were about to take the second pit of your two-stop strategy. Replacing your worn-out hards with fresh medium tires that would last you until the end of the race and warm up perfectly for fastest lap attempts.

You turned the last corner before the entrance to the pit wall came into view, slowing the car, you took a clean park just outside your garage. After a quick few bumps up and down your car was released again, rolling down the pit lane and back out into the race. That must have been the fastest pit stop of your life. You speed past a Ferarri to maintain your previous spot in first.

Holy shit, that was Charles.

You pushed the car to the max, pulling away little by little, trying to brush off the achy feeling you felt when you saw the bright red race car in your rearview mirror. But you didn't feel right and it wasn't the thought of Charles, not feeling as calm in the car as you usually did put you even more on edge. Something was off. Something was wrong.

It was taking more effort to drag the car around corners and every time you tried to break, something in your car hissed like a cat being held above water.

"Ri-ck-y, wha-at the h-ell is going on?" your masked voice shook over the radio from the tremor of your car.

"Um, looking at it right now 66,"

You knew it wasn't Rick's fault of course and he was always on top of things when it came to your needs during the race. You didn't need to panic, he would fix it.

Stay calm y/n.

Stay fucking calm.

"Oh no, once she starts quoting Micheal from The Office you know shits about to go down," your best friend Sarah cackled.

"STAY FUCKING CALM PEOPLE!" you shrieked, pulling smoking cookies out of the oven. You could hear Lando rolling around on the ground, laughing so hard he was crying.

"It's not on fire love, you're blowing out nothing..." Charles smirked, making Lando wheeze next to him.

"Okay, don't panic 66"

"I'm not fucking panicking-"

"Oi... watch your language," You could practically hear Ricky's smirk in his voice, except he seemed uneasy.

"Ok, dad,"

"66, focus."

"Right sorry,"

"I'm going to need you to box again,"

"WHAT?"

"I'm. Going. To. Need. You. To. Box. Again."

"FOR WHAT?"

"Your left rear tire is loose, I'm sorry mate,"

You felt like you were going to scream, how the hell does that happen? The simple pit stop your crew has been doing all year, and they can't put the tire on tight.

"UHHHHH" you groaned.

"I know, I'm sorry, box this lap please,"

You drove the car as best you could around another corner, the pit lane was still about half the track away so you would have to stick it out. Charles however, was gaining on you from your slow lap times with the wonky tire. Oh boy, Charles was really gaining on you.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The car jerked to the left, and you struggled to maintain control of the wheel. The back of the car shook as you pushed it faster, you could not let Charles pass you by this much, even if you got a fresh set of tires you wouldn't have enough laps to regain pole position. The red Ferarri pulled into view beside you making your heart clench and pulse quicken.

"Leclerc trying to overtake on your right," Rick warned, "Be careful with that tire!"

Too fucking late Ricky.

The back of your car slipped, sending both you and Charles hurdling toward the barriers. You braced for impact, head pulsing, ears ringing. You tried to take a deep breath, letting oxygen into your lungs, instead, they were greeted with thick grey smoke. You could see flashes of red around you and heard people screaming outside the car, why were you still sitting there?

"Mate! Do you copy? Get the hell out of the car 66!" Rick yelled into your ear.

Both of the cars had burst into flames. You removed your steering wheel and neck guard, holding onto the halo above you in order to pull yourself out. Your boot had gotten stuck somewhere under the seat and no matter how hard you yanked on your leg, it would not budge. Your body felt weak, and muscles throughout your body shook with fear and fatigue.

The radio must have failed at some point because Rick had stopped yapping your ear off, leaving you to your own thoughts and tears that had started streaming down your face.

"Please don't advance towards the fire!" someone shouted. "Mr. Leclerc!"

Looking up you saw Charles. He had weaved himself through a part of the car that was not in flames, holding out a hand to help you. Taking his hand you both used all of your strength to pull and release yourself from the cockpit of the car. Your foot popped free and survival instinct took over, sending you both running out of the flames.

"Thank you," you mumbled, making sure the voice changer was not damaged in your helmet before speaking to him.

Charles just grunted, lifting his visor, and then his helmet from his head. He pulled off the white balaclava as well and stuffed it into the helmet.

"What the fuck was that mate?" he asked, green eyes dark. You panicked and remained silent, to be honest, you didn't really know what you had just done. Pushing the car was one of the stupidest things you could have done with a loose tire.

You slowly backed away, you needed to get out of here.

"Mate what-?" Charles let out an aggressive sigh as you turned away. "I saved your bloody life after you tried to end mine! The least you could do is talk it out-" he was yelling now and you just walked away. You knew you would hear all about this later anyway.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to step into the medical car," a sharp-looking woman with glasses tapped her clipboard and then pointed to the car with her pen.

You just kept walking.

"Sir!"

"What a dick-" you heard Charles say in the distance, making guilt build up in your chest.

The tears continued to fall once more as you made your way to the Red Bull garage, you were glad the heavy helmet covered your face, and that you made the deal to never remove it. You could feel the stands of people staring at you, some cheered, some booed, other people stared with looks of fear or adoration. That crash was a mixture of emotions for everyone.

The stares continued as you passed the engineers to head to your driver's room. Guilt filled you when it came to the team as well, who would spend the rest of the week getting you a new car started for next weekend's race. When you closed the door to your room you could hear whispers through the walls, everyone was pissed.

"Christian, I want to know who I'm dedicating countless hours to mate," an engineer said. "He fucking fried the car, and now I'll be fixing it for the next 5 days, I don't even know who the guy is."

Christian, who was right outside your door said, "I know Matt, I'm sorry it's just not an option right now."

"But-"

"Thank you for understanding, if you'll excuse me."

The door opened in front of you and your team principal walked in, closing and locking it behind him before he turned to stare at you. You took the hint and removed the sweaty helmet from your head, fresh air hitting your sweat-soaked skin.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, recalling the crash clearly in your mind.

"And so am I," he said, face remaining calm, "Our race control should have been better than that and your tire should not be hanging off your car during the race."

You gave him a small grateful smile, "I lit the fucking car on fire."

He let out a hoarse chuckle, "That you did. Look, I'm going to let you go find Charles, keep your cover and shit. We can talk about this later alright, there are still some things I think we should discuss."

"Okay, thank you sir," you said and once he left you slipped back into your street clothes, sleek jeans, and a black shirt. Brushing your hair into a messy bun, and trying to touch up your makeup before exiting out the back alleyway towards the Ferrari garage. By this point the race had ended and the crowds were bustling giving you a perfect opportunity to b-line to where Charles and Lando were standing.

"You need to get a girlfriend, Lando," Charles spoke, hitting his friend playfully, "How bout that girl over there?"

Lando looked to who Charles was pointing at, "Eh, maybe,"

"C'mon mateee, she's pretty. Some might even say stunning, go talk to her!"

"This morning I saw a YouTube video with a puppy riding a motorcycle. So my bar for stunning is pretty high."

"Okay, but maybe there are different bars for different situations...?"

What the fuck were you listening to?

"The bar is consistent, the only time I set the bar low is for limbo. Always keep the bar raised no matter what."

"Uhm, okay, your funeral," Charles said before spotting you, his face lit up and Lando turned over his shoulder to see what Charles was looking at.

"Look who it is!" Lando cheered. "Your girlfriend, Charles. Maybe you should focus on your own love life and not mine..."

"Where were you?" Charles asked, ignoring Lando. Pulling you into his side and placing a kiss on your head.

"Bathroom," You replied curtly, "needed to compose myself."

"Were you crying?" Charles questioned, eyes looking concerned.

"No." you grumbled, wiping away access mascara from under your eyes.

"Well I wouldn't blame her mate, you gave everyone quite a scare with that crash," Lando shrugged.

"Oh, I'm sorry baby, I promise I'm alright," your boyfriend cooed, pulling you into his chest for a tight hug. You chuckled and relaxed into his scent. Lando was called away after a few minutes leaving you and Charles alone.

"Should we head back to the hotel?" he questioned.

"Yeah," you sighed, squeezing his hand as the two of you walked to his car. He opened the passenger door for you before heading around to his side. Turning the key and pulling out of the parking lot he blasted his favorite French rap music that you didn't understand.

"Uhh, what a day," he sighed.

"That looked like a nasty crash," you replied, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Oh, yeah I'm fine," Charles said, "I hate the other guy,"

You gulped at his words and tried to keep your voice steady, "Yeah, we don't even know who he is though..."

"That's also a problem, like we get it, he's good. Hell, he's amazing. But now he's fucking up other people's races by being selfish, and then hiding behind his visor because he's too much of a coward to own up for the mistakes he and his team make-"

Holy shit. Is that how people saw you? A coward?

As Charles ranted on you felt your breathing quicken, images of the crash fluttered through your mind. What would happen if Charles found out about your secret? This was the best relationship that you had ever been in, you felt genuinely loved and cared for. The butterflies in your stomach never ceased when he was around, no matter how many times he complimented you. You hadn't fully said it to him but, shit, you were in love.

Would he break up with you if he found out you had been lying?

Was it hot in here?

"Woah love, are you okay?" Charles asked pulling you from your thoughts. "You zoned out there for a second"

"Mhmm! I'm fine!" you forced a smile.

Charles's green eyes narrowed as he frowned, "You know you can tell me anything right?" his hand reached over the console to rub your thigh, reassuringly.

"Of course,"

He leaned over to place a kiss on your forehead before he continued to drive, he continued to talk about his race, and you hummed in agreement. You had back-to-back races so another one was just around the corner, you needed to pull yourself together. Growing less anxious as the night went on, a beautiful sunset captured your attention as the colors faded behind some hills, but the word coward still screamed in your mind that night as you drifted off to sleep.

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

Current Tag List: @xxelin @summerslike11 @inlovewith-fictionalcharacters @trashcanrat @gramelda @magicman090909 @femalestarlord @captainbaeameric @cilliansfriend @heyheyheyggg @marvelobssesedperson

#charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc tag list #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #faceless driver trend #f1 #formula one #storms library

611 notes · View notes

cheriladycl01 · 2 months

Text

Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P6

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid.

Credit to countingstars-17 for the GIF

Of course your time in South Korea with Charles had to come to an end eventually, you guys had made the most of the sight-seeing and even managed to meet up with Carlos and Lando before all heading to Japan, you guys went straight to the track on Thursday for media duties.

Throughout the weekend it seemed you were the only one actively looking out for Charles, when you were walking through the paddock with your PR manager, you weren't listening to her. Your eyes tracked every individual person around you, trying to get a glimpse of the one face you wanted to see.

However, whenever you did spot Charles, he was never looking at you. He's be talking to a mechanic, or Joris, or Fred, or fans, or the latest celebrity in the paddock, but he never glanced over at you.

The first time you'd spotted him, you'd shouted his name and ran over to him with a big grin on your face. You didn't know who it was that he was with, but when you went to pull him in for a hug, he almost felt like he just leaned into the side not really paying much attention.

You then felt embarred at how you'd childishly run up to him, you knew that was an issue for you, for the first time in years the Grid was aging rather than putting their trust in rookies. Charles was now 28, you were 22 so there were obvious differences in how you both acted but you didn't think it would affect it this much!

FP1 was shocking, the car had no grip on the Japanese race track and you were all over the shop. But it wasn't just the car's fault. Mentally you were else where, cringing at the thought of what Charles possibly said to the people around him once you'd left.

FP2 wasn't any better, coming in 18th fastest on the grid. Everyone was frustrated, they couldn't work out what was wrong. You were frustrated with yourself and the team were frustrated that they couldn't work out what was wrong with you.

FP3, again wasn't much better, it got to the point where you were forced to go to the medical tent because you weren't being yourself at all.

You sat there while the doctor did his tests, everyone thought it would be a wrist or shoulder twist that was messing you up, but you told them you were fine. Of course the German team refused to not give the best to their young driver, so one of the mechanics and social media team sat with you waiting.

"Well, you seem fine physically. Blood pressures normal, you've not reported any strains or pains, anything going on up here?" he asks tapping the side of your head lightly.

"I'm fine, just an off weekend." you mumble, not only were you annoyed that your lack of confidence in yourself was giving you a lack of confidence of your driving and decision making.

"Give me 5 minutes!" he says leaving the room, he comes trotting back in with another man, who looks to be more casually than the doctor.

"Hello!" you smile quietly at the young man, a similar age to you, maybe slightly older.

"Hi Y/N, Dr Martin tells me that maybe you'll benefit from me" he smiles taking a seat in the chair opposite the one you were in.

"Hmmm?" you ask confused.

"I'm a specialized sport athlete related therapist. I think you are going through a down week, and I want to help you. Free, and off the books for this convo, then we can talk about potentially any needed in future sessions" he offers.

Talking to him about everything was actually really relieving, you were able to confide in him in a judgement free zone. Of course Charles ignoring you was the tip of the iceberg, but there had been underlying issues since you'd been announced as coming into F1.

You left the session with a clear mind, using the pointers he gave you when you left the room to get back to the Audi garage and to start Qualifying.

"Hey, I heard you went to the medical tent, everything okay?" Alex asks with Lily by his side.

"Erm yeah, nothing's wrong. Ready to race!" you grin at him, before pulling your race suit up and tightening it. You had your social media manager do your hair in a low plait before pulling your balaclava over the top, you were hopeless when it came to your hair under your helmet.

You walk out to where you car is pulling you helmet on it was a nice and new special one for Japan, decorated pretty and pink with cherry blossom which you new everyone would go crazy for.

Qualifying was crazy, you managed to get through Q1 coming in P5, which shocked everyone. You were driving like a completely different person than you were for the last two days. Q2 and you came P1, you flew round the lap, you and the car flying round the corners and pushing hard along the straights. Q3 and you placed P2, not a pole but there you were front row on the grid next to Lando Norris in P1 and Yuki Tsunoda in P3.

If you got a good start tomorrow, maybe just maybe you could take your first win.

Everyone congratulated you on a phenomenal drive, starting on the front row tomorrow while defending from Yuki and Charles behind you. Most of the interviews people could tell you'd been breathing a different air since you came out of the medical tent.

Two unidentified team principles put in a complaint asking for a drug swab on you as your change in driving was almost instantaneous making the FIA launch an investigation into you and Audi over the weekend.

"What happened in the medical tent Y/N, we need to know to let the FIA know..." your manager says on the Sunday, you'd had a good night sleep only to wake up to all the allegations and the investigation into Audi.

"I, I just met with the therapist, the reason I wasn't driving the best was because I've been struggling with the pressures that come with being an F1 driver, it's very different than F2. I didn't know it was illegal to ask for help..." you sass, not wanting to hear anything more before going out to do the track walk. You remain silent, thinking about everything going on, when you walked past other teams you heard the whispers, and the rumors coming from them.

"Y/N is it true?" you hear from your left as your walking back to the Audi hospitality to get lunch before the race starts.

"Sorry?" you twist turning around to see Charles and Carlos stood on the steps of the Ferrari motorhome.

"That's you've been using performance boosting drugs?" Charles frowns crossing his arms in a disappointed kind of way.

"You've got to be shitting me right now. Sorry I have to get to the Audi garage, I don't have time for this" you say turning away and walking off, but an arm reaches out and grabs yours.

"Tell us" Charles says.

"Let go of me Charles, it'd fine if you want to go round believing stupid rumors but i thought after the weekend in Korea you'd know the kind of person I am" you raise your voice. You rip your hand away before going back to Audi. You storm into your drivers room, trying to hold back the tears until they just fall out. You sit down on the edge of the sofa in there, turned away from the door.

"Y/N time to get in the car" a voice calls out knocking on your door. You primitively pull your helmet on, so no one can see the tear stained cheeks and your watery eyes.

"The FIA have come to a conclusion about your case, we just heard but it wont come until after the race" you engineer says pulling you to one side away from everyone else.

"That's a good thing, they are still letting you race. Which means they've taken on board your toxicology report and see you are clean, they've also got statements from everyone involved and Andrea is asking for a formal apology to you" he explains, you just nod, getting into the car and taking the wheel from him.

The race was, well. You crashed out actually going into turn 11. You were defending from Lando and Max who had made his way up the grid when they both tried to over take you either side. They pinched you in on the tight turn neither of them giving you room to move, and your wheels got destroyed. You were sent flipping over crashing into Lewis's front wing on the way. The race was red flagged, giving Lewis a change to fix his front wing and any damage that occurred to Lando and Max's car.

With the DNF, you were rushed straight to the medical tent to be checked out. After the rest of the day was a blur, the FIA confirmed a 10 second stop go penalty for both Lando and Max, as it was a very dangerous crash that caused you injuries and the car significant damage.

Your PR manager came with you for media duties as you were a little, spacey from the pain medication they'd given you and you weren't 100% capable of understanding things.

"So Y/N, it's been an interesting race today lets look at the finish board" he says handing you the clipboard knowing you probably wouldn't remember the lay out.

P1 - Yuki Tsunoda in Alpha Tauri

P2 - Charles Leclerc in Ferrari

P3 - Oscar Piastri in Mclaren

P4 - Alex Albon in Audi

P5 - Max Verstappen in RedBull

P6 - Lando Norris in Mclaren

P7 - Liam Lawson in Alpine

P8 - George Russell in Mercedes

P9 - Logan Sargeant in Williams

P10 - Lewis Hamilton in Mercedes

P11 - Carlos Sainz in Ferrari

P12 - Zhou Guanyu in Williams

P13 - Daniel Ricciardo in Alpha Tauri

P14 - Kevin Magnussen in Haas

P15 - Fernando Alonso in Aston Martin

DNF- Y/N in Audi

DNF - Lance Stroll in Aston Martin

DNF- Pierre Gasly in Alpine

DNF - Valtteri Bottas in Haas

DNF - Sergio Perez in RedBull

"Yeah it was, imagine driving 47 laps of a 53 lap race in 3rd, 2nd and 1st to crash out" you try to joke but it comes across blunt. Your PR manager explains your not angry just disappointed.

"Yeah, it was a spectacular race from you Y/N and I assume your happy with the statement the FIA released about you?" he asks and you look to your manager in confusion.

"I've been in the hospital all this time, I haven't been told anything" you admit, looking confused.

"They cleared the allegations, and explained the real reasoning why you were in that tent, and that your toxicology results came back clear. How did it feel to be accused?" he asks, pushing the mic closer making you flinch back a little.

"If I'm being honest ... this weekend has been the shittiest weekend of my life and I'm just glad its over. I'm going home and I'll see you all in Australia" you mumble, but the interviewer wasn't done.

"Just one last question Y/N did your team-mates and other colleagues fight against what their teams brought forward or were they in on these false allegations?"

"Considering my name has come out of everyone and their sons mouth this weekend its safe to say I know who is fake as fuck" you frown. You walk off like a boss, sticking your middle finger up when he goes to ask you another question.

"Okay, home time! You are most definitely not of sound mind to be doing this" she frowns pulling you away.

Alex had been there for you through the whole weekend even when 'evidence' to help the allegations came forward. Same with Lando and Daniel, but the people who really shocked you Like Charles, Carlos, Lewis, Sergio and Max who all had something to say were the ones that hurt the most.

"Australia's in two weeks. Come back with a completely new mindset yeah?" your PR admits rubbing your shoulders before sending you on your way.

You make one last phone call before you get into your Audi to drive to the hotel.

"Hey Chris, about those therapy sessions... how do i start paying for them?"

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 one shot #cl16 x you #charles lecrelc

148 notes · View notes