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arlertwhore · 21 days

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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: paige is your sneaky link & you wear her jersey to surprise her after a game.

warning (s): smut → dom paige, slightly sub reader, power play, pussy eating, fingering, nipple sucking… etc MINORS DNI

word count: 1.5k

author note: not edited, wrote late at night, and rushed ending kinda.

Paige Bueckers was NOT your girlfriend. Neither of you even had the bandwidth to focus on romance — her, with an intense basketball career occurring outside of her dynamic with you, and you, an essential slave to your university studies.

That's what made it feel like fate when you guys first met at the Uni New Years Party. Genuinely, you both believed so, and had told one and other that before fervently making out in the washroom that exact night. Granted, you were both insanely drunk, but Paige could recount the story like it was yesterday that she saw you, single, hot, and dancing unbotheredly, though it'd been three months already."Gosh, you were just sooo cute. I was asking KK & all em', 'Who is she? How is she single?' And then they're like 'Oh, she's focused and questioning, not the romantic type,' and I was thinking, 'She's perfect.'"

Despite knowing that Paige and you are not dating, and that she really appreciates your understanding of casual, which is why she's consistently fucking just you, you can't help but feel butterflies when she describes your existence as perfect.

As an athlete, a great one at that, nothing was ever perfect to Paige. Except for you. And shit, whenever you recalled her slew of admirers at your school, on the net, and among her fans, the fact she deemed none of them were worthy of her undivided attention like she had with just you made you spiral.

You loved being her only girl. You loved being the epitome of perfection to Paige Bueckers, UConn's star. Her game tonight, televised, had ran late, and you thought she'd be too exhausted to come over and play, however, after winning, she was fired up and soon sent you a picture of her in an Uber, telling you she was on her way.

Most nights, sometimes early mornings, it was the same routine. She would come over, you would buzz her into the building, let her into your apartment, and she'd shower before fucking you into oblivion whichever way she pleased. It was always fun, varying some nights. This night though, to celebrate UConn's first win of the season, you surprised her by wearing her jersey. 'Bueckers' read the back, '#5'. When you opened the door, Paige was wearing a white shirt, grey sweats, and glasses, her hair in a half-neat, half-disheveled bun. She looked so hot.

You could feel yourself getting wet at the mere sight of her. She was on her phone due to the wait for you to open the door, and she hadn't yet looked up from the gadget as she chided playfully, "Let's start opening this door faster, ma. I waited long enough to get to you all-da—" She stopped; blue eyes fixed upon your body and her jersey and your body in her jersey. You giggled teasingly. "You like it, P?" you asked, guiding her much taller stature into your apartment by the wrist with considerable ease. Paige, who usually held control, was left dumbfounded at the sight of you. "My gosh, baby," she murmured softly, the wrist you'd just been previously holding pulling you closer into her body as the other hand rubbed down your smaller frame, smoothing circles into your lower back until she gripped a handful of your bare ass, making you moan. "Paige!" you whimpered, cheek against cheek, breathlessly. "C'mon, P, play nice with me." you purred sensually. She licked her lips, pleading, "C'mere," her voice low and laced with desperation. You wouldn't listen, though, reveling in your effect on her and how she was breaking, wanting to be in control for once. You buried your face in the curve of her neck, tracing tender kisses along her most sensitive spot, coaxing out heavy, breathless sighs from the taller blonde. Your hands found her hair as you sucked a spot onto her neck, intertwining into it and unraveling her updo as you worked on her, leaving it in disarray.

"Y/N," she exhaled shakily, "Baby, quit that, or I'm not playing nice with you tonight." she warned, tone determined to repossess her dominance. Paige never really called you 'babe,' or 'baby,' — nothing sweet like that. Typically, her nasty mouth — the one that satisfied you and degraded you all at once — was calling you a dirty slut or whore, and when it got intense, she'd make you call your ownself things. She was immensely losing it talking sweetly, and this was a stark reminder.

"Do you want me stop, Paige?" you murmured, pausing briefly only to speak before delving into her neck again, licking a hot stripe up her new purple hickey before nibbling on her ivory skin. Paige suppresses a groan, reducing it to a tiny indelible noise.

"I do," she responds positively, her hands on your waist, smoothing down your ribcage before gently lifting your jersey up until her hands were underneath it. "I don't know if I wanna keep this on you or take it off," she husked conflictedly, kneading your tits.

"You're so fuckin' pretty, angel, you'd look so good both ways." Paige surprised you when her hands fell low again, lifting you up and forcing you to cling to her body as she carried you toward your bedroom. The entire way there, your lips had been pressed against each other's, and though it was risky, you trusted Paige's coordination as an athlete. Before no time, you had made it safely into your bedroom, and she gently placed you down on the mattress before stripping off her white tee.

After discarding of it somewhere amongst the dimly lit room, she slides her body between your legs, pressing her pink lips against yours and her strong knee into your bare bottom half, the friction causing you to whimper into the kiss. Moments later, she pulls away from the kiss briefly and gazes down between you both, inspecting the now dark grey sweatpants for any signs of damage, her mouth slightly agape as she marvels at the sight of your slick that's coated her pants. "You're such a slut," she says in a sultry chuckle, "I can't believe you're this wet for me and I've barely even touched you yet," she breathes out in disbelief.

"I'm your slut, Paige. Touch me," you beg. She slips her fingers inside you, torn between focusing on the way your face contorts in pleasure as she scissors you open or on how effortlessly you accommodate her lengthy digits. She decides on both, using her free hand to push the jersey up before latching onto your nipple and sucking gently, as if she's unsure about how you might respond to the intense pleasure you're experiencing.

She watches you attentively, so beautiful and immersed in pure pleasure, your mouth parted with little gasps falling from your gorgeous lips as Paige presses against the sensitive pad inside your pussy that aligns with your clit on the outside. She ceases sucking. "I want to watch you play with it," she states. You're dazed, out of breath with your head cloudy, and you manage to murmur, "W-what?"

Paige doesn't say anything. She resumes her attention, this time on your left nipple, nibbling gently, and she guides your hand down to your clit with her free hand, assisting you in beginning the circular motions upon it. The stimulation of each pleasure zone on your body has you arching your back, whining out Paige's name in a mantra. "Fuck, P, mmph," you gasp, body on fire, "Please don't stop, mommy, I'm so fucking close." you plead, voice trembling with need. You swear you could hear your heartbeat momentarily, the intensity building to an unbearable crescendo as you teetered on the edge of release. But Paige did say she wouldn't play nice, and she smirks up at you deviously. “Tell P how good she makes you feel,” she commands, her pace slowing to an agonizing speed as she relished in the power dynamic at play. You knew the game she wanted to play; still tinged with the frustration from your earlier encounter where you had taken control.

Too horny to care, you proclaimed, "You make me feel so good, Paige,” voice filled with longing. “I love your fingers so much, yes,” moaning as she gently accelerated, indulging your desires just as you indulged hers: submission, each of you surrendering to the other’s needs, finding pleasure in the delicate balance of power and desire. "Good girl," she praises against your chest. "You're a good fucking slut, right?"

You nodded, "Yours." closing your eyes, unable to keep looking into hers. She looked too good. Paige was fortunate that you were rendered immobile by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. If you could move, you'd pounce on her with an aggressive kiss. Her hair cascades around her shoulders, her glasses still perched on her nose, and that cute appreciative smile she gives you as she nastily, relentlessly fucks her fingers into you sends butterflies swirling in your stomach.

It'd been three months being with Paige and the fact that the golden star of UConn is here, with you, not even an hour after basking in the spotlight of victory, is surreal. She generally was. It was surreal to gaze upon such a stunning girl as you reached the peak of bliss, cries of pleasure mingling with the realization that you were climaxing, hard and long. And through it all, she maintained eye contact, talking you through it, her gaze unwavering. "Cum on my fingers, baby, I want to taste you. I want to see you do it. C'mon," she coaxes, her voice dripping with desire as she urges you on.

You were drowning in her. And soon enough, she was drowning in you, having creamed all over her fingers. Paige pumps thrice more before bringing her fingers to her mouth, her tongue swirling around them as she savored your taste, gaze locking with yours in a dirty exchange of desire. "Tastes as sweet as you are," she remarks, chuckling softly before offering her fingers to you to clean off the rest. "Say ahh," she commands, and you eagerly comply, seeing the benefits of giving into Paige, sticking out your tongue out to allow her to place her fingers into your mouth. "I want them spotless," she demands, her tone filled with authority as you bob your head, licking the remainder of cum off her fingers. "Suck on them," she says, her eyes smoldering with desire as she watches you suscept, eager to fulfill her wishes.

When she's satisfied, she kisses you deeply, her lips igniting a fire within you as you revel in her taste. As she stands up, removing her bottoms, you can't help but admire the sight before yourself. Paige, the girl you were with, had the most exquisite pussy you'd ever seen. You were grateful to be the only girl allowed to experience it, but it truly was a treasure. The harmony and balance of each feature always left you in awe, and you excitedly anticipate the pleasure of eating her out, knowing that it's a demonstration of your complete submission to her. You don't wait. The instant her sweats come off, you yank her by her bra, pulling her onto the bed. There's no time for her to assert dominance as you take control, dropping to your knees below the bed and holding her knees in each hand like they were stirrups.

Her underwear still on, you tease her, licking a stripe against her clothed cunt, tongue flexing at her clit and dampening the spot. "Love this pussy," you groan, voice filled with desire as you used a finger to play against her folds, eliciting a frustrated moan from her. "Stop, Y/N," she pleads, voice scorned with true confliction, torn between the desire to surrender to pleasure and the need to regain control.

"Just wanna hear it once, P," you smirk up at her. "Say please, Number Five." She bites her lip, throwing her head back, causing her glasses to fall off, her bare eyes now locking with yours. It's difficult to maintain your composure under her intense gaze, but you manage, licking another small stripe against her underwear, causing her to jolt. "A-ah, fuck," she moans, trying to close her legs, but you hold them open. "I just wanna make you feel good, Paige, and I can tell you wanna feel good too. Say it."

She exhales, her voice pleading, "Please, Y/N," as she pulls her underwear aside, revealing her glistening pink folds. Your mouth waters. "Can you eat my pussy?" she asks, so politely you wanna kiss her, but you wanna eat her more. She holds her underwear to the side, and you accept the invitation, tongue exploring her wetness with fervor. Her hands flies to your head, something to anchor herself onto as she squirms away from your powerful tongue. You coast her back, however, and suction her clit into her your mouth, moaning into her pussy. Paige isn't a loud girl, but she's having trouble restricting her moans. The scent of her arousal fills the air, driving you wild with desire as you delve deeper, savoring the taste of her essence. As you continue to lavish your attention on her, the intensity of her pleasure builds, her grip on the sheets tightening and knuckles turning white as she writhes beneath you. You feel her body quivering with each flick of your tongue, moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment. You spit down onto her, making it sloppy, merely adding as a plus to the rawness of the carnal energy between you two. Her wetness coats your lips and chin, the sound of your movements mingling with her cries of ecstasy. And as you bring her to the brink of release, a tear runs down Paige's face, a testament to the overwhelming intensity of her pleasure. But you don't let up, determined to bring her to the peak of pleasure and beyond. With each lick and suck, you push her closer to the edge, until finally, she shatters beneath me, her body convulsing in waves of bliss as she succumbs to the ecstasy of her climax. The night was far from done. Your jersey was still on, and you still wanted to play.

guys i wrote this because there’s lit no Paige smut on here pls pull thru

Send me req btw!! I’m def considering writing again

#paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers #smut bueckers #smut #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #iowa wbb #wbb #march madness #ncaa tournament #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #paige x OC #wlw post #pb #Paige x fem reader #uconn women’s basketball #uconn vs iowa #smutwccb

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stuffeddeer · 5 months

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first time kissing with the sillies… ada!dazai is defo more experienced and pleasant, but kissing pmzai would be so awkward, giggly and full of teeth

shidjeicbwichwkcbsjbcjebdjehcjcbe biting scratching chewing going crazy jumping up and down

PT2 (kinda)

15!Dazai would be so inexperienced and childish fhuisehfu hold on lemme do smth .

“Haah!~” Dazai leaned back as he let out a huge breath of air, face bright red with a big grin on his face. His reaction made you flustered, not expecting such a dramatic response to a little kiss (even from Dazai).

It had been very heat of the moment: a sudden and quick press of your lips on his (could it even be described as a kiss?) to celebrate the two of you becoming official partners - dating. Two seasoned mafiosos were acting like giddy children just from holding hands for the first time and telling each other how they felt.

And now, Dazai had his face buried in his hands, working hard to try and steady his heart rate. “You— th-that— ” It was rare to see Dazai so speechless, causing your own face to heat up as you stepped back.

“Sorry sorry sorry!” It was reflexive the way you apologized, one hand over your mouth and the other gripping your shirt just above your heart.

“Don’t you dare apologize!” He finally looked back up at you from his hands, huge grin still plastered on his lips as he grabbed you by your hands. “D-do it again!”

LET 15!DAZAI BE A KID 🗣️🗣️🗣️ he’d be so silly and EXPECTANT that greedy jerk.. The second you give him one (1) small kiss, he’s all over you begging for more. But god forbid you ask for a kiss, then he’s teasing you about how you want him so badly and you’re sooo pathetic and whipped for him— he’s the worst!!!! And he will not work on it!

PM!Dazai would be, like anon said, still a little awkward, but definitely more put together. He’d be anxious to initiate, looking anywhere other than you as he tried to figure out the best way to go about it. Probably some experience with kissing would be under his belt by this point, so it wouldn’t be just a peck on the lips: He’d be a bit more committed, but still pull away after only a few moments just to see how you’d react.

When you showed signs of reciprocation and wanting more, Dazai would just pull you back in once again, smiling and giggling as he refused to let your lips leave his this time. His eyes would be screwed shut so tightly, hands resting awkwardly on your biceps and squeezing gently… He just doesn’t want to let go!!! Once you basically pry him off with a crowbar, he’s flushed and heady, turning away from you and letting out a groan. He’s embarrassed a little bit by his actions, but turns back around once again so he can tease you (common across all Dazais). It’s his way of trying to get you to say you enjoyed it :( so tell him he is a very good kisser and you like him very much so he can grin proudly and tell everyone that his partner says he’s an amazing kisser!!! (Even if you technically didn't!!)

ADA!Dazai would be smug but needy, pulling you in for kiss after kiss. You’d part away after the first one, ready to hear some teasing remark or cocky retort, only to find his lips back on yours once again. One hand would move to hold your waist gently, the second holding you in place cupping your cheek as he’d press more and more upon your lips. The soft feeling of your lips on his causes his whole body to tingle, barely aware of how many times he’s pulled you back in as you let out a small chuckle. He does not care, just repeating the process over and over and over—

“Dazai!” You’d yelp, lightly chastising him. It's punctuated with a giddy giggle that Dazai loves the sound of.

He’d gaze at you adoringly, eyes half lidded and smiling with his cheeks pink. With a teasing tone, he'd reply, “You sayin' you want me to stop?”

And he’d be kissing you again before you could reply. All Dazais are the type to chase your lips after a kiss, but ADA!Dazai in particular is terrible about it. There is never just one kiss with him, even if he promises that’s all in between whines! Do not give in!!!!! You’ll be stuck all day :(

“There are worse places to be trapped, right?”

Beast!Dazai… ougghhh. His first kiss with you would be so somber, like he knows what he’s condemning you to by allowing the both of you to remain in close proximity. It’s slow and almost cold, the way he gently presses his hands into your sides and lets out a heavy breath against your lips, eyes shut tiredly. It’s solemn, but also peaceful - the only time Dazai can just sit with everything he has to do. He’d pull away slowly, a sad smile on his face as he sees your flustered look and wide eyes…

Your last kiss with him is almost worse. It’s needy: hands moving everywhere they can and eyes shut so tightly as he prays to be anywhere else, be anyone else while pouring every emotion that fills him to the brim right onto your lips. He’d mutter an apology right before and so many words of gratitude right after. You cup his face gently, asking him what was wrong, but Dazai would just pull away, leaving you all alone.

someone ask me to do this again bc i've already written more ideas

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libraryofloveletters · 8 months

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Find Your Way Home

Daniel Ricciardo x Engineer!Fem!Reader

Warnings: the curse that is mclaren racing, < mclaren/zak slander, the highs and lows of Danny's career, monaco 2016, horner warning lmao, a few bitter words, angst, unspoken feelings, sadness, 2022 silly season and a few swear words.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: after plotting this, i realized that The Red String Of Me And You follows a similar timeline but this one is more detailed and sooo much sexier of me so enjoy it :)

---

RedBull Racing - 2014; Montreal, Canada.

Under-qualified crossed your mind every time you got into your chair on the pit wall.

You had recently graduated and you were lucky enough to snag a job with Red Bull Racing. You were told it would be a job at the factory, that you would be handling the reviews from the races from an engineering point of view.

Now you were sitting on the pit wall in Montreal, your driver in your ear. "Are we set?" His voice came through.

Your eyes scanned over the screens, pressing the button. "We're all set, Daniel."

Daniel was gunning for his first race win and you've been hoping and praying every weekend that he'd win. It was your first time as a race engineer and you were starting to think you two hadn't fully clicked yet, hence why you've yet to get a win.

He starts in P6 and his teammate Sebastian, was in P3 this weekend. There's a lot of pressure when your teammate is a 4 time world champion and you're sure Daniel felt it, especially on weekends like this.

You sat patiently, buzzing into him once more before they started the countdown. "Be safe."

"Safe is my middle name, y/n."

"Whatever you say, Joseph." The use of his actual middle name earned you a laugh. The radio falls silent; three, two, one, lights out.

It's a gruesome 70 laps, there's overtaking left and right, Daniel fights his way up to P3 and you're praying he can do what he does best. You watch as the laps count down towards the final one.

67, 68, 69, and into the final corner. The navy car crossed the line and it takes you a second to catch yourself. Christian squeezes your arm from next to you, a massive grin on his face when you register what just happened.

"YOU DID IT!!" You shouted into the radio, Daniel's laughter and hollering filled your ears and your heart with love and happiness, "we did it!" he shouts, correcting you.

Everyone's running, you're following the mechanics to under the podium, all of you squished up against the fence like sardines as the navy team awaited their two drivers.

Daniel had won, followed by Nico in P2 for Mercedes and Sebastian in P3 for RedBull.

Seb runs over to his half of the garage, there's a sea of navy and everyone is mixed up together but when Daniel gets out of his car, he's looking for one person and one person only. He spots you, a big smile on your face and even though he knows you'd never admit it, there are tears in your eyes.

The driver jumps straight into your arms, putting all of his weight on you and the fence. A few of the mechanics squeeze into the hug, holding Daniel so he doesn't crush you.

Your hands cup his face, well what would be his face under the helmet. His visor is lifted, brown eyes meet yours; the crinkles by his eyes signalling to the massive smile under the helmet.

"We fucking did it!" His shout comes out muffled.

You smile, nodding. Daniel is standing again, still holding onto you. He leans into you, arms wrapped around you with his face buried in your shoulder. You kiss the side of his helmet, hand reaching down to rub the top of his back. You internally gag at the dampness that meets your hand but that was the least of your concerns.

Daniel just won his first race.

Proud was an understatement.

RedBull Racing - 2016; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

He could taste the victory.

The win was reaching out to him, the finish line on the tips of his fingers and he could feel it slipping away from him.

"Pit now," you called to him, Daniel was confused by your sudden decision. "Tyres are good, y/n."

"Team decision, please pull into the pit lane."

Daniel groans letting you know he'll be there in a few seconds.

You saw when he pulled into the pits, watching as the mechanics scrabbled to get the tyres ready in time. They had Daniel sitting there, his position falling with each wasted second.

"What the fuck!" His radio was still on, you weren't even sure what you could tell him in that moment to make him feel better. He pulls out with a sense of speed you'd never seen before. He finds himself racing to beat Lewis coming out of the pit lane but the Mercedes turns into the corner before he gets the chance too, overtaking him.

"Why did we pit?" He asks you, you pretend not to hear him as you look over at Christian. The older man gives you a look, urging you to answer the driver.

Daniel calls your name once again, his voice making you want to cry; all of the horrible emotions mixed in with the guilt of the horrible pit stop made you sick.

You finally answer; "team decision."

He scoffs, it's like you can feel the tension over the radio, see the way his hands tighten around the steering wheel as he goes into the tunnel. "Bullshit, y/n."

"I'm sorry Dan-" "Stop, nothing you could say will make this better."

And with that, the radio fell silent. The nauseous feeling builds with each passing second, your leg shaking and your eyes staying fixed to the screen until Daniel crosses the finish line in P2.

It was better than nothing but you knew he could have won the race, you knew he would blame the team, blame the crew, blame you for this loss.

Christian squeezes your shoulder as he gets up, a smile on his face - his quiet way of telling you good job. He knows how difficult drivers can be, especially when things like this happen. The race engineers are the first to take the blame, you called him into the pit so you'd take the brunt of the anger.

You nod, hearing Daniel's voice over the radio, "place?"

"P2. Well done, Daniel."

"Okay."

Daniel stood next to Lewis, Checo on the other side of the Mercedes driver. It was quiet as you watched Daniel shake the champagne bottle, spraying over his fellow drivers. He had a smile on his face but you knew he wasn't happy. You knew him like the back of your hand and once again, the nauseous feeling creeped up the back of your throat, the feeling strangling the life out of you with each passing second. You had to go, you couldn't stand there and watch him like that, knowing you were the one he was blaming.

And that he did; not in so many words but the bitterness in his voice and way he spoke was enough to tell you he did not want to be there.

The interview replayed in the debrief that afternoon, the press officers wanting to go over something he had said.

"It hurts, this one hurts a lot. More than any other."

His words hurt you.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him, let alone be in the same room as him. There was a sense of despair, you couldn't shake it.

It wasn't until you were about to leave that you found yourself turning back, walking in the direction of his driver's room. You stopped outside the door; D. Ricciardo, 3 - with an Australian flag beside it. As you were about to knock, Michael opens the door, a bit shocked to see you.

"Is he in there?" You asked quietly and he nodded, stepping aside to let you in. Michael shuts the door on his way out, leaving the two of you alone.

Daniel's yet to turn around or yet to realize you were there. "I'm sorry," you speak, your quiet voice startling him. "I'm not sure what went wrong."

"Everything did."

"It wasn't my decision."

"You're my engineer; when I'm out there, it's me and you. It was your decision, y/n. Only yours."

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I really am."

"Nothing you can say will fix it, and I know you're sorry but right now, I don't want your sorry."

You nod, taking a step back. "Then what can I say? Or do?"

"You can leave," his arms fold over his chest. "Because if you stay, I might say some things I can't take back. I know we aren't cool right now but I don't want to hurt you, y/n."

"You already have," you give him a tight lipped smile, the sadness clear across your face. "Goodnight Daniel."

RedBull Racing - 2018; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

It was off to a good start, Daniel had managed to give it his all and snag pole position on Saturday. He was in a good mood, there's a smile on his face and the sun was shining down on Monaco which was a nice change from the rain that was setting up in the morning.

The cars on the grid, the drivers counting down the seconds to lights out. You buzz into him, waiting to hear the little click. Daniel's breathing comes through from his side.

“50% done, remember?” You tell him.

“50% done.” He says, the radio goes quiet as he waits for lights out.

Daniel drove amazingly, despite the issues the car was giving him. He finds himself aggravated half way through the race, the car giving out on him and losing power; thus losing hope in himself. The win was slipping through his fingers all over again with each passing corner and turn.

The weight was lifted off his shoulders when you watched him cross the finish line as the winner.

"P1 baby!!!!" You shout into the radio, Daniel's hollering fills the line and a big smile on both of your faces. "We fucking did it!!" He laughed, driving his cool down lap.

You were by the fence, watching as he climbed onto the halo of his car. Daniel's hand in a fist, placed on his chest as the team cheered. You're sure you've got the goofiest grin on your face, squished between Christian and Adrian.

Much like he did after his first race win, he makes a beeline straight for you, his arms open as he jumps into yours. Once again, you find yourself struggling to hold the man up but you try your best, arms wrapped around him.

Daniel's squished against you, your hands on his helmet, holding where his jaw would be. "Got that other 50%."

"Redemption day baby!" He shouts, giving you one last squeeze.

The rest of the afternoon was like heaven on earth; the smell of champagne, RedBull and chlorine covered everyone, you all watched as Daniel dived into the pool of the energy station.

"Come on!" He shouts to you but you shake your head, "I'm not getting in there."

Daniel pulls himself out of the pool, running over to you. "Dan, no." Your finger stuck out to warn him, the man comes closer. "Stop it," you get up, about to run away. He grabs you before you get the chance to run away, his arms wrapped tightly around you before he jumps into the pool.

"Daniel!" You scream when you get back up to the surface, "oh my god!" You laughed, your hand passed over your face to wipe away the water. He laughs, swimming - more like blobbing his way over to you, his race suit was weighing him down.

He grabs your arm, pulling you to him. The team photographer takes a photo of the two of you; arms wrapped around each other, covered in disgusting pool water with the world's biggest million watt smiles on your face.

You smile at the man next to you, "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm proud of you," he smiles, hugging you once more. "I couldn't have done it without you."

RedBull Racing - 2018; Abu Dhabi.

The announcement over the summer break threw everyone for a loop.

Breaking News: Daniel Ricciardo set to join Renault Racing for the 2019 season.

You weren't sure how to handle it or what prompted it.

Well that's not entirely true; after Monaco, things went downhill fast. There was bad result after bad result and it was weighing heavily on him.

When he returned from the summer break, you didn't say anything to him about the departure from the team. You knew he must have thought about it, you don't just up and leave a team just like that. It was a hard decision for him to make.

The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel worse.

It was his last day, the race was over and Daniel had made his rounds to say goodbye to everyone. You had been busy when he made his way around the garage and hospitality but you felt like a general goodbye wasn't enough for the man who you have spent almost every day with for the last 4 years of your life.

You knocked on the door of his driver's room, Michael smiles when he opens the door. "Come in, y/n."

Daniel turns when he hears your name. "I uh, I forgot something in the garage, I'll be back." Micheal says, announcing that he's leaving so you'd get a moment of privacy.

The two of you were quiet, looking at each other for a moment before you spoke.

You break the silence. “So this is it?”

“Yeah.” He nods, shifting from one foot to the other. You hum, lips pressed together as you look around. You'd never seen the room so empty. “Do you really have to go ?”

Daniel smiles, “afraid so, bags are packed.”

“You could always unpack.”

He smiled, his heart aching at the sight of you. You reached out, your hand placed on his warm cheek. “But you’ll come back, right?”

A sad smile on his face, bringing his own hand up to rest on yours. “In another life, maybe.”

“You promise?” You stuck your pinky out towards him.

He nods, interlocking his pinky with yours like you were children. “I promise.”

Renault Racing - 2020; Imola, Italy.

The rain poured down, the night sky as dark as it could possibly get as you pulled your hood over your head; the race hadn't gone as well as you'd like but you were no longer needed for the night, on your way back to your hotel for some sleep and then home before you head off to Turkey.

You could barely see where you were going let alone hear anything over the rain. The sudden shelter over you caused you to look up; an umbrella, a black and yellow one to be precise.

The man next to you smiles when you turn to see who was next to you. "Hello stranger," he grinned, the big smile on his face.

"Hello Daniel," you smiled.

The two of you hadn't spoken much since he left RedBull, it was a hi and a hello here and there in passing but you've yet to have a proper conversation. Frankly, you aren't sure what to say without it being awkward.

"Need a ride?" He asks, his arm over your shoulder to pull you away from the rain. "If it's not too much trouble." You pull the hood off of your head, flattening a few fly aways.

Daniel leads you towards the parking lot, holding the umbrella over your head until you get into the car. The man backed out of the parking spot, the sound of the rain on the windshield filled the silence, you translated the road signs in your head as he passed them by.

"You looked good up there today," you say quietly, Daniel glanced at you when he came to a stop. "You were always suited for the podium."

"Top step though," he smiles and you nod in agreement. "I'm sorry.. about the race. Sucks for Max and Alex."

You shrugged; A DNF for Max and P15 for Alex, so all in all, a shit weekend. "That's racing, what can you do?"

"The good and the bad." He pulls off when the light turns green. "You know how it is," you smiled, picking at the chipped nail polish on your index finger.

"Daniel, can I ask you something?"

"Oh full name, you've got me shakin' in my boots, y/n; but yes you can."

You shift in the leather seat, smooth and expensive and suddenly you're aware of how wet your hoodie is. The question you wanted to ask slips away momentarily as you think of how much this must be damaging the seat.

"Y/n," he calls out to you, glancing over to make sure you were alright after you had gone quiet. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Why are you running, Daniel ?"

The question catches him off guard, the car comes to a stop as he pulls into the parking lot of your hotel. His jaw hung open a bit as if he was unsure how to answer you; which he was. You watched as he blinked, trying to gather the thoughts in his head into a cohesive sentence.

"I'm not."

You can't help but chuckle; those who are running never seem to realize that they are, in fact, running.

"You are. You have a habit of doing that, Daniel."

You reach over, your hand rests atop of his; Daniel's skin is warm in comparison to yours that's still ice cold from the rain. His free hand moves, his index finger tracing up and down your hands, from your knuckles down to your wrist; another habit of his. He would distract himself during boring debriefs, his fingers pinching at yours under the table.

He's quiet, still unsure how to answer the statement that he knows in his heart was true. His fingers wandering over your hand, the raised skin by your thumb felt out a pattern identical to his; a rose in the same spot only slightly smaller in size.

Daniel had talked you into it. Another habit of his, getting you to do things you'd never do otherwise.

You were scared, you thought it would hurt but somehow he managed to talk you into it. There you were in his hotel room, Daniel's hand in your free one as you two got matching tattoos.

It felt like a million years ago - so much has changed since then.

You speak again, breaking the silence. "I hope you find what you're looking for at McLaren. You deserve some peace, Dan. You and I both know it."

McLaren Racing - 2021; Monza, Italy.

Back where he belongs.

A hell of a drive, something only Daniel could have pulled off after the horrendous start that was McLaren. You knew it was the car, not him; if anyone asked you, the car was always at fault. Daniel was one of the most talented drivers you had ever come across and had the pleasure of working with. You'd tell anyone who asked, anyone who'd listen to you.

It was a lacklustre weekend for the team; Checo was in P5 and Max had a DNF after an accident with Lewis, which caused both drivers to lose out on points that were needed for the championship.

Despite RedBull not having a driver on the podium, you and a few of the mechanics that used to work on Daniel's side of the garage went to watch the podium to cheer him on.

You watched as he and Lando did a shoey, your face twisting into disgust much like the younger McLaren driver. Valtteri watched in a bit of confusion and disgust, shaking his head as he took a swing of champagne from the bottle like a normal person.

The champagne bottle in one hand and the other on the railing as he climbed up. Daniel shouts, a big grin on his face as he lifts the bottle above his head. Everyone cheers for him, clapping and shouting for the winner. You were needed back in the garage for a meeting so you couldn't stick around long but you made sure to text Daniel.

To Daniel Ricciardo: Congrats winner! Back on the top step.

You got caught up in the meetings, back to back that felt never ending. Eventually you have a chance to check your phone but when you feel your pocket, it's not there.

You must have put it down somewhere. You find yourself retracing your steps, asking each person you saw as you passed by.

"Y/n!" GP calls for you, getting your attention. "Looking for this?" He holds up a phone with a navy blue case, your initials inscribed in gold on the bottom.

You let out a breath, "how'd you know?"

He hands the phone over to you, shrugging. "You know I always know." You roll your eyes at your co-worker's theatrics and thank him for your phone before walking off. You see you've missed a few messages so you scroll through. One in particular catches your eye.

From Daniel Ricciardo: Thanks boss lady! Congrats to you too, you helped make me the man I am today.

The message pulled on your heart strings; it was true. You and Daniel were so young when you got paired up together. You learnt a lot about life and yourselves, how to be a good person and what you wanted from life, and most importantly, how to get it.

You grew up together and Daniel would always hold a special place in your heart.

McLaren Racing - 2022; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

You couldn't believe it.

After everything he's done for the team, he'd hurt him like that. What could you expect from a team when their CEO was a walking snake?

It was a chain reaction.

Sebastian had thrown everyone for a loop in Hungary, announcing that he would be retiring at the end of the 2022 season. That left Aston looking for a replacement that came from Fernando. There was an opening at Alpine now which they just assumed they'd fill with their reserve driver, Oscar.

Safe to say Oscar wasn't a fan of that plan, actually he wasn't even aware of that plan.

While all of this was going on, Daniel had publicly committed to McLaren for the next season and McLaren was giving away his seat to different drivers behind his back, including none other than Alpine's reserve driver, Oscar.

Eventually it did come out that Daniel would be leaving McLaren at the end of the 2022 season to no fault of his own.

Returning from the summer break, everyone is left to face the music; particularly Daniel.

His music shuts off when he pulls the key from the ignition. You had forgotten your pass in the car, walking all the way back to the parking lot to get it.

"Morning, y/n!" Daniel grins, stepping out of the car.

You smiled at him, knowing you can't show the anger you were feeling to that wretched team he has to work with for the rest of the season. "Morning, Danny. How are you?"

He laughs.

The question feels so stupid, he feels so stupid. Obviously there's the obvious, he's angry, upset, sad, mad; at who was the question. There's so many thoughts in his head, he isn't sure how to answer your question.

"Daniel, c'mon. Seriously. "

"I'll be okay, y/n. Life works in weird ways."

A huff slips past your lips, arms folded across your chest much like a disapproving mother. "Life working in weird ways is finding something you thought you lost years ago, not you getting sold out of your seat without your knowledge."

He gives you a sad smile, nodding in agreement. "I know."

You can't help but reach out, a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be okay."

"I always am, aren't I?"

Red Bull Racing - 2022; Abu Dhabi.

Headphones covered your ears, legs folded under you as you went over the last set of race footage.

You hadn't heard the door open, your eyes glued to the screen only looking away to scribbling something down on the page next to your laptop.

You barely get a second to look back before someone's hands over your eyes, startling you. Instinctively, you brought your own hands up, grabbing the person. The raised skin along the wrist and the arms was enough to signal who it was but the smell of his cologne filled the room. You let go of his arms, pulling the headphones off your ears.

Daniel smiles, his hands on your shoulders before you stand up and turn to face him. “Miss me, miss me, now you gotta-“

“Gotta what, Dan?”

“Kiss me,” he says, his signature cheeky grin on his face. You can’t help but smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You smooth the wrinkles on his navy blue shirt, admiring him in the colours that meant home to him, to you.

Your hands held his face, “you came back.”

“Pinky promises are sacred.”

“That they are.”

Scuderia AlphaTauri - 2023; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

He's back on the grid, his focus was on racing.

Daniel's excited to be back, it felt good to be back. Racing wasn't a burden anymore. Yuki was happy to have him, his new teammate welcoming him with a smile and a hug as did the rest of the Alpha Tauri team before he made his way to his driver's room.

The door was unlocked, left ajar slightly. Daniel just assumed the team was doing a last check, making sure things were in order.

He wasn't expecting a person to be in there. He found a woman, her back turned to him as she scribbled down something on the board.

He knows that handwriting from anywhere. The words let's fucking go written in all caps in bright blue.

"Hello," he calls, you turn with the marker still in hand. "Hello," you smiled.

Daniel can't help but laugh, "what are you doing here? Come to welcome me back ?"

"Something like that."

At that moment, Daniel noticed you weren't wearing your usual navy blue uniform. Today was different; a different logo, a different cut.

"What are you wearing? Why are you wearing that?" He points to the Alpha Tauri logo on your shirt.

Your brows furrow, a bit confused by his reaction. You thought he'd be happy to see you. "Do you not need a race engineer or.. you're just gonna wing it? Maybe you could borrow Michael to do it?"

"Don't be a smart ass," he rolled his eyes, dropping his bags as he walked over to you. "Thank you," he whispers, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You pat his back, trying to wiggle away from him. "No need to thank me, we have a lot of work to do."

"I've barely been here for 5 minutes and you're already hassling me."

"Someone's gotta do it," you smiled, leaving him there to settle in.

It wasn't until it was time for practice that you saw the man again, you're across from him on the pit wall, looking over the stats before you hear the radio buzz.

“We all set?” He asks.

You look over the screens. “All set. Be safe.”

“Safe is my middle name, Y/n.” The words remind you of the path you walked along many many years ago.

You smiled, waving to him as he pulled out of the garage. “Whatever you say, Joseph.”

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holllandtrash · 1 year

Text

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 6)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 6 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

days off mean lounging around, sharing meals and potentially sharing intimate movements? it's getting harder and harder to push your feelings for lando aside, even if there is a voice in the back of your head reminding you getting involved with a british driver (but that voice sounds a lot like charles' so its easy to ignore)

word count: 5.8k tags/warnings some social media aus

if anyone read this part when it was originally posted im so sorry, something got messed up and like half of the chapter didnt post sooo here it is now

“I am not watching another one of these stupid vampire movies.”

Lando had kept his mouth shut all day. He didn’t complain when you put Twilight on, craving a bit of nostalgia and a reason to lounge on the couch for the foreseeable evening. He didn’t say anything when you put New Moon on, he just gave you a questionable look when you spoke in unison with Jacob Black when he said the iconic ‘Bella, where the hell have you been loca’ line.

By the time you started Eclipse, the third in the series, Lando stood up from the couch. Your attention had been divided between your phone and the movie for the majority of the day so you really weren’t paying attention to Lando until you realised he was spending a good chunk of time in the kitchen.

You lifted your head, “What are you doing?”

“Driving a race car,” Lando called back, tone dropping with sarcasm, as he pulled out a knife to start cutting the vegetables he had taken from the fridge.

You sat up a bit straighter, eyeing the red pepper on the cutting board, “I don’t like red peppers.”

“There were peppers in your omelette this morning,” Lando scoffed, turning to look at you.

“Those were green peppers. I don’t like red ones.”

“They are literally the same thing.”

“Not to me.”

Lando held the pointed end of the knife in your direction, “You are making my life very difficult right now.” When you just flashed him a smile and turned back to the movie, Lando put the red pepper away and swapped it for a green one.

You weren’t even sure what he was making, but it smelled good so you kept quiet for the most part.

You tried to tell him you were allergic to whatever seasoning he just pulled out of the cupboard and in response, Lando put a handful of it in his hand, walked over to you, and blew it directly into your face.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes as you grabbed a tissue to rid your face of what you assumed was some sort of combination of dill and garlic powder.

“You should be thanking your lucky stars this recipe didn’t call for cayenne pepper, you ungrateful shit,” Lando laughed as he returned back to the kitchen. Now you really stayed quiet.

When he returned, you had your defences up, flinching as he approached you as you were scared he was going to throw something else in your face. Lando only rolled his eyes and handed you a bowl and a bottle of sparkling water.

You sat up and took a look at the Greek inspired chicken bowl. With layers of rice, protein, a variety of vegetables topped with feta cheese, it made your mouth water before you could take the first bite.

“Maybe you should open up a restaurant,” you suggested when he sat down next to you.

“Let’s just open one together.”

“In your dreams.”

Lando took a sip of his Perrier water and nodded in agreement, “Sounds like a pretty good dream to me.”

You ate dinner and kept watching the movie, choosing to ignore that comment. Lando asked a couple questions here and there, needing clarification on who some characters were that he had missed when he was making dinner, but you had the feeling he was as into these movies as you were.

Until it was nearing eleven and you had just put the final movie on. Breaking Dawn Part 2. And Lando snatched the remote from your hands, pausing it at the opening credits.

“I am not watching another one of these stupid vampire movies.”

You stared at him in shock, “You said we could do what I wanted today!”

“I didn’t think that would involve ten straight hours of a vampire-werewolf love triangle that is making me want to rip my eyes out,” Lando exclaimed with a laugh, his words cutting right through your heart.

You ripped the remote from his hands and sat up, pointing at the tv, “The Twilight Saga is a cinematic masterpiece.”

Lando threw his head back and laughed, “Oh really? How many Oscars has it won?”

“It won MTV’s Best Onscreen Kiss in 2009.”

“I feel like this isn’t information you should just know off the top of your head.”

You groaned and pressed play, “Can we just watch it? It’s the last movie.”

“You watch it, I’m getting ready for bed.” Lando tousled his hand through your hair before using you as a crutch to stand up. You pushed him out of the way as he walked in front of the tv and he made another comment about how this was one of the worst series’ he’s ever seen before walking into the bathroom.

You turned your attention to the screen, but when your phone started to ring you turned it down and saw Arthur was calling you to check in, ask if you’d be at Silverstone and what not. It was an innocent enough conversation, until he asked where you were.

“At a friend's house,” you sat up a bit, thankful that Lando wasn’t anywhere near you to make this conversation more difficult.

“Oh, which friend?”

Fuck your mind went blank.

You said the first name that came to mind, “Laura.”

Arthur laughed, “Who the hell is Laura?”

“Oh you’ve met her before,” you lied through your teeth. “Blonde, has the piercings-”

“That describes about half of your friends,” Arthur cut you off, probably not caring too much who you were with, as long as you were somewhere safe. “Have you talked to Charles lately?”

Aside from a few texts, you really hadn’t heard from your brother since you left Canada, “Not much, why?”

There was a bit of hesitation, “No reason, just wondering.”

Any other day you would have called Arthur out on withholding information from you. Something must have been going on with your brothers for Arthur to even ask if you had spoken to Charles, but Arthur ended this phone call almost immediately after, making up some bullshit training excuse.

You made a mental note to call him out on it next time you spoke, but until then you returned back to the vampire-werewolf love triangle Lando despised so much.

When the bathroom door opened, you glanced in that direction in time to see a cloud of steam protrude into the hallway. You wouldn’t have paid any more attention to it, had Lando not immediately followed and stepped out of the bathroom.

With nothing but a towel hanging around his hips.

You really tried to focus on the movie. You would have been fuming if you stepped out of the shower in nothing but a towel and Lando couldn’t stop staring at you, but this was the first time you’d seen him like this and it was quite distracting.

You’d seen his shirtless pictures on instagram. You’ve seen clips of him changing shirts in Lando edits on twitter or tik tok, but this was different. Holy fuck was this different.

Beads of water clung to his skin, accentuating the dips and curves of the muscles in his back. He shook out his head, running his fingers through the wet strands of hair to try and keep the curls from sticking to his forehead.

And then he looked at you and you knew you had been caught staring.

“I’m just going into the room to change,” he told you. It had been your room for the last few weeks, but he still had all of his clothes in the closet. You nodded, mentally telling yourself to not look down at where the towel sat on his hips.

But you couldn’t do anything about pulling your eyes off his body as he walked down the hall and shut the bedroom door behind him.

It took you a second to pull yourself together after that.

Lando was hot.

You knew he was attractive, everyone who had eyes would agree to that. He had cute, boy-ish features and a magnetic smile that made it hard to look away. Like a lot of the drivers on the grid, Lando was good looking, he had that going for him.

But he was hot.

Hot enough to make you temporarily forget about one of your favourite movie series, hot enough that you couldn’t say a single word to him when he told he was just going to change, hot enough that you were now imagining what he might have looked like without the towel.

You sat up straighter, forcing these thoughts out of your mind. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about Lando like that so when he walked out of the bedroom, you didn’t even let yourself look at him as he sauntered down the hall. In the corner of your eye you could see him make himself a cup of tea in the kitchen. When he asked if you wanted one, you could only shake your head.

It was hard to focus on the movie knowing Lando was right there. You weren’t even watching, you were just pretending to because you needed something to look at that wasn’t him.

When he sat down next to you, he carefully put his cup of tea on the coffee table and leaned against the back cushions with a heavy breath. He was sitting a few inches closer to you now than he had been before, you weren’t imagining that. He had the hood of his jumper pulled up around his head, his arm resting behind his neck and neither of you said anything for a little while.

Until Lando, not even pulling his eyes from the screen, asked, “Were you checking me out?”

In response, you grabbed the pillow that had fallen on the ground and smacked him right in the face with it. Lando laughed, but he couldn’t dodge it, instead letting it fall to his lap and eyeing the way your cheeks turned red and how you refused to look at him.

“That’s a very violent way to say yes,” there was a smugness to his tone. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking.

“I wasn’t.” You practically hissed, “I looked at you, there’s a difference.”

You were definitely checking him out when he stepped out of the bathroom.

But he didn’t need to know that.

Lando wasn’t going to let this go, “It’s okay, I check you out sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes, deciding that if he wanted to start this game, you would play dirty. “Yeah I bet you absolutely drool at the sight of me in the Ferrari garage talking to Carlos.”

But that didn’t deter Lando like you thought it would. He shifted on the couch to face you, arm resting along the back of it, “Okay can you tell me about that? Like is there something going on there?”

You finally looked at him, eyebrows raised, “Going on with…?”

“You and Carlos.”

You snorted, “No.”

“But you guys are close.”

“We’re friends.”

“Nothing more?”

“If we were more I probably would have called him last night instead of you, don’t you think?”

It was a sentimental thought, but your tone was bitter and Lando caught it, like you couldn’t believe you were actually talking about this. But Lando didn’t know that this was an ongoing conversation with those that were close to you and Charles. People jumped to their own conclusions and while you did like Carlos, you would never see him as anything more than a friend.

“So what are we?”

Now you felt forced to pause the movie. You turned on the couch, crossing your legs underneath you as you stared at the British driver, “Are we really having this conversation?”

“I just want clarification, is all,” Lando said, a hand held up in defence before you could give him any more attitude. “You didn’t call Carlos because you guys are just friends and nothing more, but you called me.”

“You’re thinking too much about this.”

“I’m thinking about it the right amount,” Lando retorted. Still, you were unimpressed and he could see that. Through your blank stare and semi-scowl, Lando got the impression that this was not how you wanted the night to end.

But he had a point, whether you admitted it or not.

Lando was who you called. Even if you didn’t remember it, he was who you wanted to be with last night, he was who you missed.

However there was something he seemed to be forgetting.

“I don’t date drivers, Lando.”

“I know, I know, and I don’t want to keep having this conversation but I also don’t know where we stand,” he tried to reason with you, he wanted more than just the same rejection you’ve been giving him for a while now. Flirting was fun, hanging out with him was exhilarating and while you knew it couldn’t turn into anything more, Lando wanted you to think otherwise.

“We’re friends,” you said, point blankly. You needed to remove yourself from this situation so you grabbed the empty bowl that had been sitting on the coffee table and you walked to the kitchen.

You shouldn’t have been surprised when Lando followed.

“Friends who kiss?”

“Once,” you pointed out, dropping the bowl into the sink, making sure your back was towards him. “We’ve kissed once and it didn’t mean anything.”

Lando scoffed, you could practically hear his eye roll as he stood behind you, “It didn’t mean anything? Really?”

No, but that’s what he needed to hear. You didn’t want Lando to know that you were conflicted, torn between knowing that you shouldn’t want to hang out with him as much as you did and wanting him to kiss you again. You didn’t like the level of comfort you two had reached and you hated that his presence made you as happy as it did.

So he needed to believe the kiss didn’t mean anything and maybe if you said it enough times, you’d believe it to.

“It didn’t mean anything,” you repeated, hands resting on the edge of the counter. “It was the thirty second deal. Once you reach zero you’re done.”

But Lando wasn’t as naive as you were.

“And how many seconds do I have left?” He asked, standing mere inches from you. If you looked up and to the right even slightly, you’d catch his eyes.

A sharp exhale passed through your lips, “Eleven.”

Lando gently took hold of your wrist and spun you around to face him. With your back pressed up against the counter, you were limited to what you could do or where you could look. You were practically forced to meet his hazel eyes and you were frozen when he lifted his hand up to the side of your face.

His fingers were gently, resting right where your neck met your jaw as he closed the gap even more, dropping his face to yours. He didn’t kiss you, but he came horribly close. Instead, letting his nose nudge yours as his lips parted.

You found yourself reaching for the front of his jumper, curling your fingers around the material to hold him against you. Each breath carried more and more anticipation, your heart nearly pounding out of your chest as Lando hovered his lips right above yours.

He had eleven seconds left, but he wasn’t going to rush into them. He just wanted to prove a point.

You wanted to kiss him.

“Lando,” you were so quiet. You weren’t even sure what you were asking from him.

You were frozen in place and Lando’s breaths were in sync with yours and each second that passed where he didn’t kiss you only drove you more and more insane. It wasn’t fair.

“You can’t tell me this doesn’t mean anything,” Lando’s words were laced with timid desperation. He wanted you both to be on the same page and as terrifying as it was to admit, that build up, the moment before the kiss, meant something. You shouldn’t have wanted him as bad as you did.

You applied the slightest bit of pressure to his chest. Lando got the hint and stepped backwards, giving you the space you needed to think clearly.

“I just-” the fear of Charles finding out flooded your mind, followed by the media spinning this out of control and then images of a Ferrari-McLaren crash were at the forefront of your thoughts. You shook your head. “I need to go to bed.”

Lando wasn’t going to push to get anything else out of you. He watched as you slowly walked down the hall. You didn’t dare give him one last look before collapsing on the bed and calling it a night.

——————

The upside to yours and Lando’s friendship, or relationship, was that each new day was exactly that. A new day.

You woke up in the morning and neither of you addressed the almost kiss you shared last night. Lando didn’t ask again if it meant anything and you were able to focus on getting ready and doing your makeup without any intrusive thoughts.

Because you had watched most of the Twilight movies yesterday and that was all you wanted to do, it was Lando’s choice today. He had been texting furiously all morning and even stepped outside to take a few calls, leaving you with more questions than answers.

And he wouldn’t give you any hints. It was a surprise, apparently. He even asked if he could blindfold you before you got into his car and a simple glare in response told him that that would never happen.

During the drive, you both took turns picking the song. Lando would question most of your choices, mostly because a lot of the artists you liked were French, but in return you would judge the majority of the British rap that he chose.

“Can you please just tell me where we’re going?” You asked, noticing you were driving further and further out of the city. “You’re not kidnapping me are you?”

“I’m not kidnapping you.”

“Is this another date?”

“Not a date either,” Lando answered.

You couldn’t imagine what the outskirts of London had to offer. You tried to ask more questions, but they were all shot down. And when the road you were on turned to dirt and gravel and you could no longer see any sign of city life, you turned to him again.

“I need a hint or something.”

“You are so impatient,” Lando laughed, reaching over the console to give your leg a playful squeeze. “We’re almost there. I promise- well, I think you’ll like it.”

Almost was a stretch. It took another fifteen minutes before he turned down yet another dirt road, thick forestry on either side. You couldn’t begin to imagine what he had in store.

And then you saw a few trailers parked in front of a steel dome with a garage door. It took a second for you to realise there was a dark green car parked in the garage and a few people hanging around it.

“What is going on?” You asked him, but you weren’t surprised when all he did was smile.

Lando pulled his car off to the side, using a few fingers to wave at the other people who were apparently waiting for him. He then turned the car off and gave you one of his familiar, charming grins.

“Ready?”

“I don’t know what you signed me up for, so no.”

Lando didn’t let you ask any more questions before he opened the door, quickly scurrying to the other side of the car to open yours as well. He helped you out and you watched as two of the people that were in the garage started making their way over to you.

You recognised Max Fewtrell, Lando’s best friend. You’d never actually met him before, but you’d seen him at races and all over social media. The girl next to him was also familiar with dark brown hair and beautiful features, but you couldn’t place a name.

With his hand on your back, Lando and you took a few steps forward. He gestured towards Max first, “This is Max, that’s Ria-” he looked at you to introduce you to his friends. “This is Y/N.”

Ria Bish, now you knew where you recognised her from. She was part of Lando’s Quadrant team.

And both her and Max were wearing Quadrant merch. Merch that you hadn’t seen before. And usually Lando made a habit of wearing his own clothing whenever he could. Behind them, you finally spotted a skeleton crew of camera operators.

You looked up at Lando, “What the fuck is going on here?”

Ria sort of chuckled, “You didn’t tell her?”

“He doesn’t tell me anything,” you shook your head.

But now you were able to figure it out. The new merchandise. The Quadrant team. The camera set up.

“You’re dropping a new collection,” you said, finally it wasn’t a question.

And that wasn’t the only surprise.

Lando was positively beaming, “And I want you to model for the photo and video shoot.”

Your jaw dropped as you tried to tell if he was playing some sort of joke or not. The way he looked at you told you that he wasn’t lying. Ria and Max wore similar excited expressions, clearly you were the only one left out of this decision.

Modelling wasn’t new to you, but usually your agent contacted you when you had a new job. You didn’t show up to a set with no warning and by the looks of it, this wasn’t even a professional set. This was something Lando had set up with members of his own team.

“I’m not-”

“You don’t have a choice,” Lando interjected before you could turn this down. “I’m pretty sure we agreed that today we did what I wanted to do.”

You thought about it for a moment before a new concern came to mind, “How long have you been planning this?”

Lando scratched the back of his neck, “Honestly, I always knew I wanted you to model this collection. It just worked out that we could do it today.”

“But why-”

“Danny’s never asked you to model one of his collections, has he?”

Oh.

That’s what this was about. Your driver ranking. You told Lando to get creative and he was doing exactly that. He knew you lived in your DR3 merch, he knew you admired the third Red Bull driver, but Daniel had never given you the opportunity to be part of his collection drop.

Max handed him a purple top which he just handed over to you, looking quite proud of himself as he draped his arm over your shoulders, tugging you against his side.

“Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fun,” Lando encouraged. You held out the t-shirt to look at the design as Lando kept trying to talk you into it. “The fans will love it.”

“Charles will not.”

“Who cares what Charles thinks?”

You tilted your chin up, eyebrows raised, “You know, usually I get paid for these types of jobs.”

And it was your fault, really, for using a suggestive tone. For letting your gaze drop to his lips. For forgetting that two of his friends were literally standing right in front of you, watching this interaction.

Lando ran with it. He just dipped his head towards your ear, using a volume that only you could hear, leaving Max and Ria to wonder what they were missing.

“I’m sure we can figure something out later.”

Thank god for Ria catching the way your cheeks turned red. She grabbed hold of your wrist and pulled you away from Lando before the innuendos could get any worse, “Come on, I’ll show you the trailer to change in.”

You walked with Ria, waiting a few seconds before looking over your shoulder at Lando who had jumped right into a conversation with Max. But he was watching you too, his gaze darting towards you as he spoke, but trying not to make it obvious.

Ria unlatched the door to the trailer and stepped back for you to walk in, “Can I ask how your brother feels about all of this? About you and Lando?”

“Oh he doesn’t-” you paused on the steps, sending one more look towards the British driver.

You should have said, there was no ‘you and Lando’ but instead your instant response was to say that Charles was unaware. And even though you had no idea what was going either, there was certainly something.

But you just shrugged, “Charles doesn’t know anything.”

Ria eyed the merch in your hands. You were both thinking the same thing, but she was the one to voice the thoughts, "I guess that's about to change."

ynleclerc

liked by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 25,351 others

tagged: landonorris, team_quadrant

ynleclerc quadrant OFF ROAD* collection drops soon i think?

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landonorris nice

riabish ♡♡

danielricciardo this feels like a betrayal?

ynleclerc still love u ❤️

inthepaddock that last pic is my 13th reason

usersainzz carlos has been awfully quiet

charles_leclerc what is this

landonorris merch drop mate

You told Lando not to respond to Charles’ comment, it would only feed the fire. But then you saw him click ‘reply’ and you weren’t quick enough to snatch the phone out of his hands. You tried, but Lando just held the phone way out of reach.

The photoshoot had been fun, you could admit that, but the entire car ride back to his place, your stomach filled with nerves as you debated posting a collection of photos from it. You wanted to support Lando, you wanted to show off the new clothing, but you were terrified of what Charles would say.

Lando held the door open for you to step into his flat and he could see you were still fighting with yourself. He snatched the phone out of your hands and swiped through the pictures.

“If you’re so worried about what he’ll say, don’t include the last one.”

“But I like the last one,” you admitted with a shy smile. It was one that Ria had snapped when you walked out of the trailer in the all purple attire. And maybe you were the one that pulled Lando to your side to get a photo of the two of you matching but he was the one who dropped his head right next to yours.

And then you were the one who held the side of his face, resulting in a pose that looked very…

“We look like a couple,” Lando voiced your concern as he sat down on the couch, pulling out his own phone. “I love the picture, I do, but if it's causing you this much anxiety, don’t post it.”

When you sat down next to him, you glanced at his phone screen and saw that he was swiping through the photos as well. Taking a few extra seconds to examine the ones of just the two of you. When he zoomed in on your smile you rolled your eyes and playfully pushed your hand against his face.

“You had fun, right?” Lando asked, turning his attention to you. Not the you on his phone screen, the you that was sitting so close to him that he could feel the faint movements of your body with each breath you too, so close that he could see the worry lines in your forehead and guilt in your eyes.

But you nodded, “I really did.”

He grinned from ear to ear, “So am I up to third now? In your driver ranking?”

You sighed heavily, “It appears so.”

Lando curled his hand into a celebratory fist. You ignored his childish ways and looked at your Instagram post again. You really did have a good time today. Getting to know some of Lando’s friends was entertaining, especially when they were able to tell you all of the stories that Lando wouldn’t ever share himself.

It shouldn’t have mattered how your brothers would react, you were happy. You had a really fucking good day.

So you posted the four pictures.

Lando commented immediately. When you asked him if he had your post notifications on he just muttered a quiet ‘no’ and tried to hide in the hood of his jumper.

And then Charles saw it. His ‘what is this’ comment made you feel sick and you begged Lando not to respond but Lando loved making your life difficult and even though his response was innocent enough, you weren’t surprised when Charles’ name appeared on your phone a few seconds later, his ringtone burning through your ears.

“I’ll answer it-”

“You absolutely will not,” you snapped at Lando. “You will stay quiet. If you so much as breathe too loudly I will shave your head in your sleep.”

Lando believed you. You weren’t one to bluff.

You stood up and answered the call, mentally preparing yourself for a scolding.

“Hey Cha-”

“Why were you with Lando?” He asked. Not even a hello or a how are you. Just straight to the point. “Why are you promoting his brand?”

“It was a job,” you looked at Lando, but there was enough space between you that he couldn’t make out what Charles was saying on the other end. “Lando was in the city, he asked if I wanted to participate and I said yes. It’s not a big deal.”

It was a lie. It wasn't a real job and Lando didn't force you in front of the camera. If you wanted out of the photoshoot, you could have said no.

But you wanted to be part of it.

“It’s kind of a big deal, Y/N,” Charles didn’t sound annoyed, he sounded genuinely mad at you. “You’re my sister and you’re promoting another driver's merch? How do you think that makes me look?”

“I don’t think people are thinking about that,” you scoffed. Charles wasn’t one to have selfish tendencies, so this was really coming out of left field. “It was a photoshoot, Charles. Don't try to create a problem when there's not one. You don't care when I wear Daniel's merch."

"Daniel isn't driving."

"That's not the point and you know it."

Charles had something against you

There was silence on his end. You thought about just hanging up and ending the conversation there. Otherwise this would have turned into an argument that neither of you would win.

But then he just had to keep it going.

“Do you-” Charles paused again. You knew where he was going and you really regretted not hanging up when you had the chance. “Do you like him?”

Even though Lando had no idea what sort of conversation you were in the middle of, he was still watching you carefully. When you turned your head to look at him, you felt stuck. Conflicted. This was not how you wanted to feel.

“Peut-être,” you said, eyes locked on Lando’s. Maybe. Maybe you did like him more than you were willing to let on, more than you wanted to.

Making the switch to French was a dead giveaway for Charles, “Are you with him right now?”

Again, all you could say was, “Peut-être.”

Lando was trying to piece together what you were saying. With his eyebrows pinched together and jaw tightened, you could see he was concerned. The photoshoot was his idea and now Charles was taking his frustration out on you, he felt responsible.

“Je dois partir,” I need to go. You said quietly. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

“No, don’t hang-”

You pulled the phone away from your ear and left it on the counter in the kitchen. Lando stood up and walked over to you as soon as he knew the conversation was over. He gently put his hand on your back and kept it there as he turned you to face him.

“Look I knew Charles wouldn’t be happy but I didn’t think-”

“Don’t,” you shook your head, rubbing your hand over your face in distress. “It’s not your fault. None of this is and I shouldn’t even care what he thinks.”

“But he’s your brother, so you’re going to care.”

All you could do was shrug your shoulders. This was a lose-lose situation for you. If you distanced yourself from Lando, you wouldn’t be happy. If you stayed with Lando, if you let yourself be happy with him, Charles would distance himself from you.

Lando lifted his hand to the side of your face, thumb brushing over your cheek, “Can I ask- what does ‘peut-être’ mean?”

You leaned into his touch, “It means ‘maybe’.”

“Maybe what?”

God were you really going to tell him?

It was hard to keep your eyes on his, every voice in your head told you to just turn around and walk away. Leave this conversation now otherwise you’d be digging your own grave.

But it was so easy to tune out those voices when the whole world stopped as he looked at you.

“Maybe..." you started, taking a breath, “maybe I like you.”

Lando smiled, well it was a mix between a smile and smirk, hearing the words that he'd been waiting for. “Maybe?” He asked, heavy on the sarcasm. “Only maybe?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he licked his lips. That fucker knew what he was doing. His gaze dropped to your own lips for a second, “I have eleven seconds left, yeah?”

You nodded and the last thing you caught was the devient glint in his eyes before he connected his mouth to yours, making the move that you were reluctant to.

Your lips moved in slow synchronisation, there was less of a hurry this time compared to at the hotel, both of you wanting this moment to last. Lando’s fingers slipped into your hair, your hand found his chest before it slid up towards his neck instead, bringing him closer to you, if that was even possible.

Lando’s grip tightened on your side and every thought in your brain, the countdown that you should have started, Charles’ disapproval, all of it vanished and instead there was him and only him.

It was like Lando was kissing you with every inch of his soul. Like he was trying to use this moment to replace all of the words he couldn’t say because he knew you wouldn’t listen anyway. It was the kind of kiss that you could get used to, that you wanted to get used to.

Breathlessly, you pulled away. Lando rested his forehead against yours, the pads of his fingers brushing against your cheek as he swallowed.

“Times up,” you whispered, both of you aware that it had been a little longer than eleven seconds.

“It doesn’t have to be, you know that right?”

You could have more than just those expired thirty seconds. You could have every day with him if you wanted, Lando not only hinted at that but he had also made it so blatantly obvious that he wanted you.

This wasn’t about a stupid driver ranking anymore.

Somewhere over these last few weeks, there was a shift. Lando didn’t just care about working his way up, he cared about you. He wanted to make you happy, he wanted to see you smile, be the reason for your laugh, spend every possible minute of the day with you if it wasn’t a race weekend, and even then, he wanted to see you at the Paddock more than anything.

Lando liked you.

And it was terrifying, but you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore. You couldn’t mask them with sarcasm and eye rolls. You couldn’t hide it anymore. You wanted more than just those thirty seconds.

You wanted him.

masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader if i forgot anyone im so sorry

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ranhaitanisgf · 4 months

Note

Hi!! Could u do headcannons for chifuyu, kazutora and baji with a gf who has a older brother in their gang? (Toman and valhalla)

you'll be friends, right!?

synopsis: how will they act when your older brother is in their gang?

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ first req of the new season new year new me :3 srsly tho its sooo nice to b taking new reqs after finishing up my old ones ! thank you so so much for requesting anon, and i hope everyone enjoys !! xoxo

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ chifuyu matsuno, baji keisuke, kazutora hanemiya x gn!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 2.5k+

masterlist

chifuyu matsuno:

❥ the fact that your brother is in toman is something that you’re surprisingly able to hide from him for a good while; chifuyu is kind of easy to lie to, (one of his only faults). well, it wasn’t that you exactly lied to him per say, you just…didn’t mention it. that’s not a crime, right?

❥ okay, maybe it’s a bit of an exaggeration. chifuyu is strangely perceptive and maybe has noticed that you’re keeping something from him, but it was easy to hide the fact for so long because he trusts you. he trusts that you wouldn’t keep anything important from him that concerns safety and he trusts your judgment. he doesn’t want to be the kind of boyfriend that is controlling and needs to know everything about your life, so he makes sure to tell you that you can come to him with anything and leaves it at that.

❥ you actually find your brother to suddenly be a useful source of information for once! at first he didn’t want to tell you anything about toman, but with your incessant nagging you finally broke him, earning useful information about things that were going on. it wasn’t really like you understood any of it, but you wanted to have an idea of what was going on with chifuyu, (because he definitely wouldn’t be telling you anything about it).

❥ your brother isn’t sure why he shouldn’t talk to chifuyu at all, but he only avoids him so that he doesn’t hear any more nagging from you, (it’s easy for him to avoid him anyways since they aren’t in the same division).

❥ there are times when you accidentally let it slip that you know more about toman that you’re supposed to, which makes chifuyu feel a bit skeptical, but he usually writes it off as you overhearing him chatting with his friends about it.

❥ when chifuyu finally finds out that your older brother is in toman, you aren’t even there. it happens after a meeting when he overhears your brother with his friends complaining about you, talking about how you had eaten all the snacks in the house and had left the empty bags in the cupboards just to piss him off.

❥ normally, chifuyu would have ignored it and assumed it was someone with your same name, but it caught his attention because you had told him about that specific thing. you’d laughed to him about how funny it would be to see your brother so pissed off, promising him that you would record it and show him, (he had to admit, it was pretty funny). and now that he’s looking at the guy…the dude looks exactly like your brother.

“oi…c’mere a second…” “ah shit…”

❥ now that chifuyu has figured it out, your brother wasn’t really in any sort of mood to try and make some sort of half-baked explanation. he just admitted that he was your brother straight-up, saying that you had told him to avoid chifuyu while at toman meetings.

❥ imagine your surprise when you opened up your window for your brother to sneak back home and saw chifuyu right behind him.

“oh wow, chifuyu! haha, what’re you doin’-?” “(y/n), i know.” “well!”

❥ he isn’t mad at you; he just doesn’t understand why you hid it from him. in his eyes, it doesn’t really seem like a huge deal and he doesn’t think that he’s done anything to make you think that he would be mad, so he’s really more confused than anything.

❥ when you explain to him that you just wanted to be able to know when he’s going through a hard time in toman, he feels like you’ve literally taken his heart hostage. of course, his love for you before was absolutely endless, but the fact that you went through that much trouble because you wanted to know what was going on with him…it did something to him, (he ended up staying the night that day because he didn’t want you to leave his arms).

❥ after that, it’s surprisingly chill. your brother and chifuyu are friendly now, and it also eases your worries more. despite the fact that they both consistently assure you that nothing will happen to them, you feel better knowing that they can look out for each other and have each other’s backs, (more like chifuyu can have your brother’s back, since you’re sure your brother is useless).

❥ it also means that you get to see chifuyu more! he’ll sometimes come home with your brother after a toman meeting, coming in to see you and have some quality time with you that the two of you didn’t get to have during the day, (it was hard to consider the time you see him in school as quality time).

❥ he sometimes ends up falling asleep in your room, so it’s a mad rush when one of you wakes up in the morning and realizes what happened, (neither of you regret it though).

❥ you don’t tell him this, but sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and realize that the both of you have fallen asleep. you just don’t have the heart to wake him up when he’s sleeping so peacefully, so you decide that the two of you will just deal with it in the morning, (what? you’re not doing that because you like to hear his morning voice! what a wild accusation!).

baji keisuke:

❥ literally already knows.

❥ it’s a bit of stretch for him to know every single member in toman, (he might be able to do it if he really put his brain to work) but your brother is in first division, so it’s kind of hard for him not to know. he takes pride in having a good relationship with all the members of his division, so it wasn’t hard for him to put two and two together when he saw the resemblance and the same last names.

“(y/n), your brother is in toman.” “well, yes. you have a good eye, kei.” “haha, sarcasm, very funny. why didn’t you say anythin’?” “i dunno, i didn’t really see any point.”

❥ he gives up on trying to see your point, instead deciding to just agree with you.

❥ of course, baji would go to a lot of lengths to protect the guys in his division, but he makes sure to keep an extra eye on your brother. it isn’t because he doesn’t trust your brother to handle himself, but more so because he knows that if anything did happen to him, you would be devastated, (as much as you say you don’t give a shit about your brother, keisuke knows you care).

❥ baji would do damn near anything to keep you safe and happy, so he makes sure to tell chifuyu and ryusei to also keep an eye on your brother. he keeps it on the down low though, not wanting your brother to know that he was paying more attention to him.

❥ because baji knew your brother before he knew he was your brother, they are pretty chill with each other, hanging out with the rest of first division after meetings sometimes.

❥ this also means that whenever baji is over to your place, you and your brother are lowkey (highkey) fighting over who gets to hang out with him.

“well he’s my friend; i’ve known him for longer!!” “okay, well he’s my boyfriend!! that automatically trumps friend, so he’s mine!” “uh, do i get a say in this-?” “no!”

❥ it’s quite entertaining.

❥ in all seriousness though, you didn’t know how nice it would be for baji to be so chill with your brother and the rest of your family until it actually happened. you’re not sure why, but it gives you a sense of comfort and happiness seeing him interacting with them all, especially when he gets along so well with your brother, (it’s not because you give a shit about your brother, okay?!).

❥ adding on to this, ryoko has basically accepted you as her second child, accepting you into the family immediately and treating you as if you were her own blood. you would say that she treats you like she treats keisuke, but given the fact that she physically tries to fight him makes you retract that statement.

❥ she also will regularly invite you and your brother over for dinner, saying that she needs to get to know her future family, (it makes baji let out a giant sigh and makes you blush a bit, but neither of you say anything refuting it).

❥ both your brother and baji have made an agreement to never tell you about anything that goes on in toman. you’ve tried to go against it and ask them to explain more to you, but neither of them will ever share more than very basic information about anything that’s going on, (even when you constantly pester them about it). it pisses you off that they claim it’s for your safety; how would knowing simple stuff about what’s going on put you in danger?

❥ they will never budge.

❥ the three of you regularly play mario kart with each other; of course, you always come out on top, which makes the both of them accuse you of cheating, (how would you have even done that?!). sometimes baji will invite chifuyu as well, which you think makes it even more fun.

❥ despite the fact that you always bag on the both of them for doing dumb stuff and being in a gang, you suppose that you get why they do it. it isn’t because they want to make trouble and be violent with other dudes, but it’s for something more, and you can appreciate that, (it’s practically the only reason you stopped pushing to know everything that was going on with them).

❥ baji and your brother are the official (y/n) protection squad, mean mugging anybody who looks at you sideways at school. you’ve been wondering why they have been following you around everyone, but you immediately shooed them away when your friends told you what they’d been doing.

“you guys can’t just be doing that to everyone who looks at me!! have some faith in people, will you?!” “no.” “absolutely not.”

❥ it’s okay, they’re just doing it because they love you.

kazutora hanemiya:

❥ when kazutora and your brother first met, you swore that you could see the hostility swimming in both of their eyes, the both of them becoming extremely stiff and staring at you.

“this is the guy you’re dating?! you can’t be serious!!” “(y/n), this is your brother? jeez, i feel bad for you being related to him…”

❥ neither of them had been willing to give up why there was such bad blood between the two of them, so you had to threaten kazutora with not talking to him for a whole month before he confessed.

“i kinda…beat him up… “what?!”

❥ you weren’t sure who to be more angry at, so you decided to wait to hear the full story and then decide.

❥ it took a lot of threats and pushing, but you finally got it out of kazutora. apparently, your brother had been sent on some kind of side work mission of picking up some money from another gang when he’d been ambushed, essentially getting robbed for all the money and leaving him with nothing.

“how much was it?” “...10 million yen…” “WHAT?!”

❥ you decided to drop the matter, finding kazutora completely innocent; hell, he was a better person than you. if you had 10 million yen and the person who was supposed to pick it up let it get stolen…you definitely would have killed him, (not seriously, but still, 10 million?! how does some random gang even get that much money?! how is that possible?!)

❥ now that you were aware of the bad blood between kazutora and your brother, you found it rather funny to watch their interactions whenever you had kazutora over, the awkwardness between them unmatchable. neither of them wanted to incur your wrath, but they also both had their pride to uphold, so they just flatly would greet each other and would shuffle around each other, (you were always shaking from holding your laughter in).

❥ in all seriousness though, you don’t like the fact that they are both in a gang. even though neither of them would tell you anything, you had somewhat of an idea of things that were going on due to a friend of yours whose boyfriend was in toman. of course, you know next to nothing of the gang dynamics in tokyo, but you weren’t entirely sure that the gang they were in was…good…wouldn’t toman be better?

❥ they immediately rejected your idea when you pitched it to them.

❥ you have no way to know this, but kazutora very very subtly will keep an eye on your brother, although it’s completely for your sake. he isn’t really sure if you care too much about him, but even kazutora knows that losing a family member is devastating, so he will do whatever he can to keep you from having that burden placed on you.

❥ your brother consistently grills you whenever you go out with kazutora, acting all high and mighty as if he’s ever actually done anything useful for you. he gets real quiet though when kazutora actually shows up, suddenly becoming quiet and shuffling to his room.

❥ there’s a part of you that wants to have them make up so that it isn’t so damn awkward, but you’re not sure how to go around that, (you also think it would be funny if this keeps going on). they both have the kind of personality that wouldn’t let them apologize nor forget about the incident, so it was a bit of a stalemate.

❥ you think the only time you’ve ever seen them actually team up to work together was when you started complaining about having some girls in your class teasing and making fun of you for your style. it seriously wasn’t anything crazy, and certainly wasn’t anything like bullying, but they seemed to take it very seriously.

“hey…are you haruta?” “huh? yeah, who’re you?” “stop bothering (y/n).” “what???”

❥ they stopped teasing you after that, but it came at the cost of some of your reputation; there is now a rumor that you have two delinquents at your beck and call who do your dirty business for you. great.

❥ when you confronted the two of them, they pretended like they had no idea what you were talking about.

“you two punks did this, huh!?” “sounds like you’re makin’ things up. i didn’t do anything like that.” “dunno anything ‘bout that, on my momma.” “we have the same mom you dumb fucking idiot.”

❥ maybe there is hope for a friendship between them after all.

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shy-taylorsversion · 2 months

Text

Want You Back | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Inspired by Want You Back by Maisie Peters

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Over a year ago, Y/n started hunting with the boys. Her and Dean's friendship became more than anything she ever had before. Then he hurt her like never before. The worst part was she didn't really care.

Takes place somewhere in season 6 after Sam got his soul back. Flashbacks are during season five.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing (minimal), canon-level violence, few innuendos, and mentions of things. Reader is kinda sad and desperate. Angst. no happy ending :(

A/N: Hi!! After a year of trying to write a complete fic to post, I finally did it. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors, I relied on Grammarly lol Also I had no idea how to write the action scenes but tried my best. I really don't know if this is worth much but I had so much fun writing sooo I hope you enjoy it!! (gif not mine)

March 2010

Y/n’s phone buzzed, drawing her attention from the hunter drunkenly blabbering in her ear. They’d just wrapped up a quick hunt, a werewolf somewhere in northern Montana. She didn’t even really know the guy but Bobby had given him her number to ask for help. She agreed, not really having anything more to do. He was fine for a hunter, other than he never shut up and was getting too handsy for her liking, and him being on his fifth drink wasn’t helping.

She opened the message, not recognizing the number. Bobby had to stop handing it out to whoever.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Whatcha up to?”

The phone fell into her lap. There was only one person she ever let get away with calling her that, or anything really, and he didn’t come around often.

“Depends, who is this?”

The response was almost immediate.

“Don’t do me like that, Y/n”

She could almost see his stupid grin on the screen and had to look away to control the heat rising in her face. Within five seconds and two texts, Dean Winchester had turned her into a giggling schoolgirl with a crush.

“I’m at a bar, what do you want?”

“Ah, a girl after my own heart. Which one? I wanna see you.”

In any other universe, she would have assumed he had ulterior motives. She had the first few times she’d received that text but ended up spending the night hiding her disappointment. He only wanted to see her. He’d meet with her wherever she was. A bar, a motel, a diner.

They’d spend hours talking about everything. She’d tell him stories of her recent hunts and the hunters she was stuck helping. He’d tell her of whatever they’d been facing. On rare occasions, when it was super late and they were sprawled on her bed, in a half-drunken stupor, he’d tell her about Sam or their dad. He’d mention their childhood and what he was put through. One night, he even mentioned a girl named Cassie, he skirted around details but Y/n understood.

They’d fall asleep like that, on top of the covers of a dirty motel bed. The next morning, he’d take her to breakfast, hug her goodbye, and then he was gone.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again.

“I miss you.”

Her blood ran cold as she stared at the screen. He’d definitely never said that before. They just never went there and maybe this wasn’t him going there but it was different. Without another thought, she sent him the address.

Present, April 2011

“What Dean did wasn’t ok, you know that right?” Sam said through the phone. “He never should’ve left like that. We just really could use your and Bobby’s help on this case.”

Y/n sighed in response. What could she even say? That she knew, that she understood. That it still didn’t matter because even through all of the anger and hurt, she’d take him back tomorrow.

Not that he’d ever actually been hers. It was only half a spring, barely two months.

It didn’t matter either way. There was a job to be done and she had to do it. She could put her feelings aside for a few days.

“He always left like that, not like I’m surprised.”

“Look, I’ve gotta go but please, Y/n, call us if you need anything. We’ll be there soon.“

“Bye, Sam.”

The call ended, leaving Y/n leaning against the railing of Bobby’s porch. The early spring wind whipped around her and she hugged her flannel closer, looking out onto the empty road.

It had been over a year since she’d seen either of them. She knew of everything that happened to them. Sam going to hell and coming back without a soul. Dean, living a normal life for over a year with a woman and her kid.

Y/n didn’t know her, only hearing about the situation from Sam and Bobby in passing. She knew her name was Lisa and that Dean cared for her. Maybe more. She knew that Dean had promised Sam to live a normal life after he jumped into the cage. And she was happy that he got a year of peace. She was.

She could picture him helping in the kitchen, wearing an apron with flour smeared across his face. He’d probably set up family movie nights and weekend outings and birthday dinners. He’d been happy and okay. Against all odds, he had gotten out.

That didn’t stop the wave of hurt that washed over at the thought of him, all domestic and soft.

The click of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. Bobby stood there, a knowing look on his face.

“C’mon kid, let’s see if we can figure out something before those boys get here.”

A few hours later, Y/n stared at the book in her lap. She’d been rereading the same paragraph for thirty minutes. Every time she’d get drawn into the book, the house would creak or the wind would blow and she’d be snapped out of it.

She kept waiting for the door to open, for footsteps to trail down the foyer and into the living room. She couldn’t even begin to prepare for what the next few days were going to be like. Her only plan was to act as normal as possible, which was already proving to be difficult.

A pit formed in her stomach, there was a lump in her throat and her head was clouded. The whole room was hazy and it felt like she was watching herself exist.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until something wet hit her hands and slid onto her jeans. She quickly wiped her eyes and tried to focus on the book again. The lines blurred together as more tears filled her eyes.

God, she was sitting here crying over some guy. She was a grown woman, she had to get over this. It was pathetic at this point.

“You know, what Dean did was wrong. Leaving like that, not telling you what happening.” Bobby said, walking into the room, a stack of books in his hands. “I love the kid but he’s a real dick sometimes.”

He meant well but she swore if one more person said that Dean had done bad, she was going to go crazy.

She knew that. More than anyone, she knew. She was the one who spent months hunting with him, helping him and Sam figure out how to save the damn world. They’d spent nights wrapped up in each other, more than ever before. Farther than before.

She was the one who woke up to an empty bed with no trace of him anywhere. He never responded to a call or a text. Never even let her know he was alive.

He’d left like an assassin.

Part of her couldn’t even blame him. It probably had been for the best because if he’d told her what the plan had been, she’d have begged.

In the end, he’d got to be a coward and she salvaged some amount of self-respect.

“I know, Bobby.” She said, giving him a small smile, “I know.”

The door creaked causing Y/n to jump, earning her a concerned look from Bobby.

She smiled at him again, trying to reassure him. She could tell he’d been worried about her lately. He was justified in it. She’d been on edge and closed off for the last year and a half.

She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She’d known these boys for the better part of her life, it wasn’t a big deal.

Sam rounded the corner first, entering with a slight grin. His eyes immediately found hers and without warning he pulled her off the couch and into his arms.

Y/n let out a surprised laugh as her feet dangled off the ground and the life was squeezed out of her.

“I missed you too, Sam.” She said, unable to hold back more laughter, “Put me down now.”

Her feet hit the floor and Sam stepped back. She looked him over, still smiling.

“I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

A set of footsteps grew louder causing Y/n to look up, only for her to meet two green eyes.

The breath was knocked out of her and she was all too aware of the pit in her stomach again.

Ignoring the pairs of eyes on her, She spun on her heel to face Bobby.

“Let’s get started?”

March 2010

“I call shotgun!” Y/n yelled as they walked out of the diner and took off towards the Impala.

She was probably being unfair. She’d barely shared the passenger side in the few weeks she’d been with the boys. Sam was getting huffy about it, she could tell but she enjoyed the view more from the front. Sitting in the back she’d miss the way Dean’s hands looked gripping the steering wheel, the way his lips moved as he mouthed the lyrics to whatever was on the radio, or the way his eyes would flicker to hers for just a split second.

Dean had also finally let her DJ and she didn’t plan on giving that rare privilege away anytime soon.

“C'mon, dude. It's my turn.” Sam whined, “My legs are starting to cramp.”

Sam beat her to the car which wasn’t surprising since he was literally the size of one. She was close to giving in when an arm landed on her shoulder. Dean nudged Sam out of the way, ignoring his protests, and opened the door.

“Sorry, Sammy.” Dean’s eyes never left hers as she slid into the seat, “Need my Darlin’ by my side.”

Present, April 2011

Cracked wooden planks creaked under Y/n��s feet as she followed the boys and Bobby into the abandoned house. It was pitch black. She blinked her eyes, trying to adapt to the lack of lighting.

According to Sam, a nest of vamps had been holed up there for weeks. They’d started leaving a trail of bodies, teens who’d come through as a dare or curiosity. She didn’t know the exact numbers racked up in that time but it was enough for Sam and Dean to ask for help.

Dean motioned for them to split up, two taking the downstairs and two going up. She went to follow behind Sam who had taken off into the next room but Bobby beat her to it. She would’ve fought back but it wasn’t exactly like she could cause a scene right then.

She followed Dean up the stairs, cringing every time the stairs groaned underneath their feet.

Dean slowed as he hit the final step before a long, dark hallway. Y/n was a step behind him. His body nearly covered her. She shifted to the side to peer around him.

Both raised their machetes, trying to keep their breathing quiet as they waited for any sign of movement.

A crash came from down the hall. Dean started towards the sound, Y/n following close behind. The complete darkness put them on edge. Being minus one sense in a house of at least ten fanged bastards, not fun.

The floorboard creaked behind her causing her to flip around, just in time to dodge the first vampire of the night.

She swung her machete, hitting its arm. Distracted, she brought down the weapon. Its head hit the floor.

Dean yelled out from behind her. She flung herself around to hear him fighting off, what she guessed was three on his own. Her presence seemed to catch the attention of one of them because it charged at her.

She dodged, the vamp lunged again grabbing her by the arm. She twisted out of its grasp. Using the angle to her advantage, she swiped her leg around, knocking it off balance. Its head rolled away as its body hit the ground.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned to try to find Dean. She still couldn’t see him but she could hear him panting a few feet away.

She was yanked forward. Hands gripped her forearms tight enough to leave bruises and slammed into the wall. Her head buzzed on impact and she forced herself to stay upright. Its fangs grazed her neck and then its head dropped to the floor.

Dean stood in front of her, so close she could feel him breathing, rather than hearing it. Without thinking, she reached out to him and landed on his arm. She went to pull away but his other hand grasped her wrist, holding her in place.

“Thanks.” She breathed, “You good?”

“Yeah, You?”

She wished she could see him, make sure he was being truthful. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with honesty. But in the dark, she had no choice but to trust him.

“I’m fine.” There were definitely bruises forming in her arms and her head was still spinning but she’d had worse.

Dean’s hand dropped her wrist. She ignored the deflated feeling in her chest and dropped her arm back to her side.

Without warning, he ran his hands over her arms and up her shoulders. She tried to pull away but he didn’t stop.

“What are you doing?” She whisper-yelled.

“I literally heard you hit the wall, Y/n,” He said, running his hands over her head, checking for any bumps.

“I am fine.” She tried to swat him away but he grabbed her wrists mid-air and pulled them to his chest.

The air was humid around them. She heard him panting. Leather and sweat invaded her senses. Any focus she had before vanished.

He was here, touching her, after so long.

Silence enveloped them. The only noise was their panting.

This was wrong. Sam and Bobby were probably fighting for their life downstairs and here they were, doing whatever this was.

She was about to pull away when a loud yell came from downstairs.

The moment was broken. They took off down the hallway and stairs. Staying close to not get lost in the dark.

They hit the last few steps as a vampire, charged at them.

Dean swung his machete and it fell to the floor.

They moved further into the first floor of the home, finding Sam and Bobby fighting off at least four vamps each.

They split up, him going to Bobby and her going to Sam.

None of the vampires were aware of her yet. She grabbed the syringe of deadman’s blood out of her pocket and plunged the needle into the closet to her.

Now they knew she was there.

Two turned towards her giving Sam time to take down his remaining one.

Both charged at her, hissing. She ran in between them.She flipped around, slicing the blade in an arc. The one on her left doubled over at the impact.

She swung.

The right one lunged at her. She pivoted and cut the blade up.

Its head hit the floor.

She looked around the room, a slight beam of moonlight flooded the house now. She made out Sam helping Bobby up from the floor, right as Dean took down the last vampire.

The room was silent other than everyone trying to catch their breath.

Dean’s eyes found hers. She forced herself to look away. Sam interrupted the non-moment.

“Time for drinks?”

Y/n and the boys decided to go out. They were leaving soon but everyone needed time to wash off and get ready.

She dragged the black liner across her eyelid, double-checking to see if it smeared the shimmery brown eyeshadow she’d already put on. The cracks in the old mirror made it kind of hard to perfect the make-up but it would have to do. She already changed from her bloodied hunting clothes into a clean pair of jeans with a simple tank top. She didn’t own much and traveled with less.

“Broke mirrors are bad luck, ya know?”

Dean leaned against the doorframe, flannel pulled taut around his crossed arms.

She ignored the pit that had reappeared in her stomach and continued applying her lipstick. She flipped through ideas for a response. She could yell at him to get out or cry about how much he hurt her. Instead, she opted to act like nothing was wrong.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who broke it.” She said, shoveling her makeup back into the bag, still never meeting his eye. She stood and gathered the rest of her stuff into a neat pile on her bed. Her back was completely towards him.

She heard him walk into the room and the door clicked shut.

“Y/n, look at me.”

She turned around and looked up at him. Her eyebrows raised like he was boring her. In reality, she was struggling to breathe. Her hands shook and a lump was stuck in her throat.

Her eyes glanced over his face. His jaw was set but eyes were soft. She knew where this was going.

Dean took a deep breath before starting.

“Look, what I did-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Dean Winchester.” She spat.

“I just-”

“No. You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to say that what you did was wrong or how sorry you are. You don’t think I don’t know that what you did was wrong? Everyone keeps telling me that. Bobby, Sam and now you. They kept telling me how horrible of you that was like it wasn’t me. Like I wasn’t the one who spent months with you, like I didn't help you figure out how to stop the fucking apocalypse. Like I didn’t stitch you up after every hunt or spend every car ride next to you. Like I wasn’t the one who would hold you after you woke up screaming or it wasn’t me who spent every single night in your fucking sheets.”

Every ounce of refrain she’d worked to keep was gone. Hot tears were streaming down her face as her eyes bored into his. He didn’t try to interrupt her but his jaw twitched and body tensed.

“Like it wasn’t me who woke up two months later to an empty bed. You were gone, Dean. You left without a word. No text, no note. Nothing. You fucking left me. And then I found out you were with some other girl for a year? So yeah, I know that what you did was bad.”

Somewhere in her speech, she’d moved close enough for their chest to touch. Her finger was stabbing into his chest. He didn’t move, was barely breathing but she wasn’t finished.

“Maybe it was cheap to you, or maybe it was some fling to pass the time but it was real to me. It was all I had. You were all I had.” Her voice broke at the last word and she dropped her hand. Her head fell as she cried. Over a year of built-up heartbreak exploding in one moment was too much.

His hand found hers and placed it back on his chest. She looked back up at him, his other hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes as his thumb wiped away the remaining tears.

“Do you want to know what the worst part is?” She whispered, eyes still shut. “I’d be yours again if you wanted. If you asked. How pathetic is that?”

“Y/n.”

She opened her eyes to look at him despite her embarrassment.

“You are anything but cheap or pathetic.” His voice was thick and his eyes were glassy. She’d seen him in so many different states but she’d never seen so much emotion written across his face.

“Ask me then. Ask me to come with you.”

His expression darkened and he dropped his hand from her face. He took a step back and looked away.

“It’s not that easy.” He said, shaking his head. “It's never that easy.”

She let out a bitter laugh.

She wasn’t even surprised. She should’ve been disappointed or furious but she was just over it. She was tired and desperate. And if she couldn’t have him, he needed to go.

She wiped a hand down her face and glanced back into the mirror assessing the damage her outburst caused. She started wiping off the messed-up liner before starting to reapply. Dean stood behind her, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Get out.” She said without hesitation, her voice as steady as possible.

He opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it. He walked towards the door but stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

“For what it's worth, I am sorry.”

The buzz of conversation filled the packed-out bar. Sam found them a small booth in the corner and was now talking about a new piece of lore he’d found about some Egyptian god. Most of the time, she loved hearing what he had to say but right now all she could focus on was Dean's hand trailing up and down the woman’s hip. He never even sat down with them, finding himself a spot at the bar, next to a pretty blonde. She’d watched for half an hour now as he grinned at the girl, whispered in her ear, and bought her a drink.

She wanted to puke or cry or both. She decided to get drunk instead.

She went to take a sip of her beer only to realize it was empty. Motioning to Sam she was going to get another, she slid out of the booth and made her way to the opposite side of the bar from Dean.

She planned to order a shot of some vodka and another beer but she couldn’t catch the attention of either bartender.

A body bumped up against hers causing her to stumble. A hand wrapped around her waist to catch her. She almost jerked away but she looked up to find a familiarly unfamiliar pair of dark green eyes and dark blonde hair.

The man was by far the prettiest she’d seen all night.

“I am so sorry, It's packed in here. Isn’t it? Nowhere to stand.” He had a slight southern drawl and a boyish charm about him.

“It is. Can’t seem to even order a drink.” She smiled at him.

“You see, now that had to be fate or something because I was just wantin’ to buy you one.” He grinned and waited, almost seeing if she’d allow it. His hand was still on her but she found she didn’t really mind.

The room was fuzzy and she could only make out the man in front of her. Even then, he was a little hazy and she had no idea what he was saying, only that his mouth looked pretty as he said it.

Y/n didn’t know how long it’d been since the handsome stranger volunteered to feed into her night of drunkenness or even how many she’d had so far. She vaguely remembered him buying her the first shot and then the second and maybe a third. They made small talk, she gave some bullshit story about what she did for work and where she was from. Somewhere in between she had a fourth, fifth, and sixth one.

And somewhere between the seventh and now, she’d lost track of Dean. She didn’t even know if he was still there. She did know that the new guy made her feel ok, at least for now. His hands never left her and the drinks never seemed to end.

She could barely remember the events of the day. Maybe by tomorrow, she wouldn’t remember any of it, or at least a girl could hope.

But right now, she didn’t feel like crying or throwing up as long as she didn’t think of it.

She decided in her drunken haze that maybe this was what she needed. So when the stranger asked her if she wanted to leave, she agreed. And when he leaned down to kiss her, she let him.

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