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rae-writes · 10 months

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just a few more

Diavolo, Barbatos, Mephisto + two bonus characters // 3.k wc

*disclaimer: this is written as poly!romantic mc + all dateables

not only did Mc bag the seven lords of hell, they also ended up bagging the prince, his butler, and his highest ranking noble. Yk, as they should.

a/n : we’re gonna pretend Diavolo didn’t say he couldn’t form a pact with us just bc he’s the prince/future king because I think that’s a load of shi—

It all started with you mentioning how pretty you thought Barbatos’ pact was. You said it casually- in passing- when you and the brothers had been over for tea. They were all fighting (with the exception of Lucifer and maybe Beel and Satan) over who’s pact mark looked the best when you dropped the bomb.

“Come oooon, Mc! You don’t havta pick a favorite or anythin’, just tell us which one looks the best!”

“That’s the same thing, moron!”

“OI!”

Smiling, you picked the choice least likely to start a fight, “I think Barbatos has a pretty sigil. Solomon showed me once.” Yep- there definitely wasn’t any room to argue when they all had their jaws on the floor.

Oh, but you sent a shock of heat straight through Barbatos, who was the last one expecting your particular reply.

Not even the uproar from the brothers or the shit eating grin from his master could make that heat dim. In fact, it only grew stronger at the mischievous smile you sent him.

And then you showed up on the castle’s doorstep, bruised and bleeding, while crying out his name.

“B-bar— Barba-tos! Barbatos!” it was the only coherent thing he could decipher as he watched you sob violently into his chest, fist clutching his shirt so hard he almost thought it’d rip.

You’d been in the Devildom for so long now, it was a shock that anything could scare you this badly- but when you managed to choke out that a group of demons ganged up on you, the butler felt searing hot threads of possessiveness and rage grip at him.

They’d touched you- hurt you. You were probably crying out for him while you fought your attackers and he didn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear it.

The final blow to his wavering resolve came only an hour later :

“Why didn’t you call one of the brothers? You could’ve gotten fatally wounded if you hadn’t been using your magic.” He was scolding you.

And you were smiling. “I didn’t want one of them at the time. I wanted you.”

…oh.

“B-rb…Ba-rb-os…Barbatos!”

He blinked, staring at you blankly, “Huh?” Did he really just space out?

“I said I’m sorry for worrying you and putting my life in danger. I’ll be more careful next time and call on my pacts.”

Your pacts. Pact. “May I have the pleasure of entering a pact with you?”

Surprised, you stared at Barbatos like he had three heads for a moment. “Me? A p-pact with me? But I thought—“

Barb interrupted by grasping your hands and bringing them to his lips, “If you think I do not trust you, I must ask you to think again.”

You watched him press your intertwined hands against his chest, where his heart is, before he was leaning closer- closer than he’d ever been.

“I trust you, Mc. Do you trust me?”

Voice nothing more than a whisper and without a trace of hesitation, “Yes. I’ll make a pact with you- I want to make a pact with you.”

Barbatos’ eyes darkened ever so slightly as he gave you a genuine smile, “Excellent.”

Then his lips were on yours and your hands broke apart so he could cup your face while yours went straight to his hair and you could faintly feel the tingle of your new bond but kissing him felt too surreal for you to even begin deciphering where it was located.

7 -> 8

†

Mephisto was certain he only tolerated you due to your closeness with the seven brothers and his lord- it’s all anybody heard him run his mouth about when you were mentioned. But when he got scolded by his kid brother for saying such things about you, he simply decided he had to see what everyone saw in you- and boy, was he straight up beat down with the realization.

“Good morning, Mc.”

Without even questioning why he was suddenly speaking to you out of the blue, you smile brightly and stop walking, “Morning, Mephisto! I like your tie, is that one new?”

He blinks in surprise— you…noticed? “Yes, it is. I thought I might change things up every now and then.”

“It’s pretty! Like you!” Not even embarrassed at such a bold comment, you point in the direction of the newspaper club’s office (which was opposite of the student council’s- where you were supposed to be going), “I’ll walk you to your office so we can talk some more, yeah? I don’t get to see you much!”

One day he caught you taking care of his little brother and the feelings just intensified.

“Now, now, none of that. You’ll make your eyes all swollen-“ you wiped away the boy’s tears, “and then your little head will hurt-“ your hand ruffled his hair playfully, “and we can’t have that, can we?”

Mephisto watched you carefully doctor his brother’s scraped knee, not noticing his feet were moving until he was right beside you.

Smiling at the excited ‘big brother!’, you glance up in acknowledgment before placing a bandaid over the injury. “All better!” You kiss his knee, giving him another on the forehead before helping him stand.

And as you and Mephisto watch the younger demon run off with a wave, he can’t help but feel the slightest bit miffed at the kisses you’d given said demon. It must’ve shown too, because—

“Oh, ‘Phisto,” you couldn’t stop giggling, even after you’d grabbed his face and pulled him down, “If you want a kiss, all you have to do is ask.”

You kissed him on the cheek, patting it afterwards, before leaving with a grin (and leaving him behind with a blush and a hint of possessiveness).

Not even a full week after that, Mephisto quickly decided that you simply couldn’t go any longer without it.

“Form a pact with me.” He stamped down the urge to shuffle nervously under your surprised stare, “..please?”

Your expression slowly morphed into a giddy smile, “I’d love to make a pact with you, ‘phisto.” Feeling the familiar warmth of the forming sigil, you beamed at him.

He could feel it too; the bond threading itself together— his first (and only) pact. “Mc…” his tongue felt like lead but he knew what he wanted. All he had to do was ask. “May I have a kiss?”

“As many as you want.” You sounded breathless as you brushed over his lips with your own, connecting them eagerly once he grabbed onto your hips.

He nearly jumps when you grab onto his tie, though he steels himself and pulls you even closer, not daring to break the kiss for more than a couple seconds at a time. Now that he’s felt this…Mephisto doesn’t think he can live without it.

8 -> 9

†

Your pact with Diavolo, while he truly wanted to have that relationship and bond with you, mostly happened due to childish jealousy. He’d dealt with your happy ramblings about your pact with Barbatos for months, but then…

“Another pact? With Mephisto? How ever did you manage that?”

Either you didn’t notice the strain in Diavolo’s voice or you simply didn’t bother pointing it out, your smile stayed as you hummed happily.

“I didn’t really do anything. ‘Phisto just came up to me all of a sudden and asked to make a pact.”

“He asked?” If Diavolo wasn’t bothered before, he sure was now. Mephistopheles in a pact? It was simply unheard of, and now, he was the only demon in your group without a pact with you. “I see…”

It was such a petty feeling, because truly, he was thrilled for all of his friends— Diavolo just felt undeniably left out despite no one treating it that way [but him].

“I swear if the four of you stubborn bastards don’t take a break, I’ll make you!” giving a deadpan stare, you crossed your arms and stood in front of the demons seated at the student council table.

Mephisto relented immediately, having heard of what exactly you can do with your pacts, and chose to go get some coffee. Lucifer- after a quick staredown- followed the noble, but not without leaving a kiss on your hand in silent ‘thanks’. Barbatos and Diavolo, however, remained in their spots.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Mc, but we really must finish; these are documents for RAD’s-”

“Barbatos. Take a break.” you watched his hands release the papers involuntarily, smiling at his incredulous stare, “At least go eat something. Please.” when Barb reluctantly stood from his chair, you turned to Diavolo and leaned to rest your forehead against his. “Just because I can’t make you, doesn’t mean you’re exempt from this. Up- come on.”

And while his heart was practically beating out of his chest at the care you showed for him, that ugly jealousy still churned inside him at the clear display of difference in your relationships between him and the others.

Everything finally bubbled over the day you confessed to him :

“Apologies, Mc, but could you…repeat that?”

Ducking your head to hide the flush of your cheeks, you fiddled with your fingers, “I like you, Dia- if that wasn’t already obvious, and Barbatos and a few of the others agreed that I should tell you and ask if you’d like to date me too…”

Diavolo answered a bit too fast and desperate for his liking, “Yes! I-I mean, yes, I would be overjoyed to be in a relationship with you, Mc.”

“But?” you squinted, knowing something was- and had been for a while- on his mind. “What’s wrong? You’ve been like this for weeks.”

“Nothing is wrong, I just…” Follow his heart or follow the rules? “I just want to be in a pact with you like all the others.” he averted his eyes, feeling childish when he spoke those feelings aloud.

You only giggled, “That’s it, huh? I would love to enter a pact with you, Dia. Wait- are you even allowed? As the prince and future king, I mean?”

As soon as you agreed, his hands were already cupping your face, “I don’t care-” his lips finally, finally met yours as his feet began moving, walking you backwards until you hit the wall, “-I decide what I want and I’ve wanted you for so long, been jealous of the others for so. long.”

With the pact etching itself into your skin, you couldn’t deny him anything in that moment, completely enamored with the way Diavolo was practically begging for you, still, even though he already had you.

9 -> 10

+bonus

When Simeon fell completely, wings black and horns protruding from his head, he desperately needed something to ground him while he worked through his new body and new status.

“They’re so pretty, Si.” You were brushing through his wings softly, smiling at the contrast it brought to your glittery nails, “Your horns, too.”

Simeon shifted, nervous despite your words at letting anyone else see his new form. “Do you really think so?” his spine straightened at the feeling of your lips pressing kisses down his back.

“I do. You’re so beautiful- angel, human, or demon.” Nuzzling your head into his neck, you smiled against the skin, “In fact, I’m going to have to fight off so many demons just to keep you to myself.”

That made him chuckle, body relaxing into yours easily, “Nonsense…that might be quite a sight, though.”

Adjusting wasn’t hard— he thinks he had an easier time at it than the brothers, but he couldn’t help but feel something was missing.

It was difficult to not fiddle with his outfit, but in Simeon’s defense, this was his first time at one of Diavolo’s formal parties as a demon— and the first time everyone saw his demon form.

Tsking, you gently slapped his hands away and re-straightened his shirt. “Don’t pay any attention to the staring. You’re just too pretty to look away from.”

He knew it was because, in all technicalities, he was a fallen angel, even if he’d been human before this. But he also knew that if anyone was an expert in unwanted spotlight attention, it was you.

“I’ll try not to, thank you, Mc.” Simeon smiled at your pleased expression, “May I have this first dance?”

As the night went on, he watched you dance with the other nine demons (and with the other members of Purgatory Hall). Everything was like it always was- nothing changed after he became a demon. Still though….

“Simeon!” you called out with a bright smile, hand waving him over to join the dancing circle you, Mammon, and Asmo had created.

He felt as if there was something absent in him, something he couldn’t describe. “I’m coming.”

Finally, Simeon figured out the missing puzzle piece.

Laying with you, clad in only your underwear, always brought him a sense of love and tranquility. He simply couldn’t get over how vulnerable and exposed you were willing to be around him.

“Siiimeonnn~” you sang, laughing when his eyes fluttered sleepily. Your fingers carded through his hair, making him hum in delight, and you hummed right back at the faint feeling of his nails tracing over your pacts.

He continues to trace the slightly raised skin, not thinking too much about it until you mumble something about how he’s always had a fascination for the marks adorning your body. At that, Simeon sits up quickly, all traces of tiredness gone.

You follow his lead worriedly, “Simeon? What’s-”

“Make a pact with me. Please, Mc, please, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more- I knew something was missing when I became a demon and now I know it’s because everyone else is bonded to you but me. I couldn’t have that with you as an angel or human but I can now. Please, Mc, allow me to be selfish just this once.”

“Oh, Si…” there was an undeniable warmth blooming in your chest. “You never needed a pact to feel bonded to me— you’ve always been perfect the way you are.”

Simeon let out a shaky breath, allowing you to shift closer while his heart thumped wildly in anticipation.

You moved even closer, and closer still, until you were practically in his lap. “You can be as selfish as you want with me. I’m yours, and now-“ your lips brushed, “-you belong to me, in turn. I’m honored you trust me enough for this, Simeon, of course I’ll make a pact with you.”

And although your lips have met in this dance time and time again in the past, and will surely do the same in the future, it still sent shivers down his spine and heat to his face.

When his hands move to trace your pacts out of habit again, his is the first he finds- guided by your own hands- and devils does that make Simeon’s head spin; he’s finally complete.

10 -> 11

++extra reverse!bonus [no specific demon form]

For someone with 72 pacts and ongoing shameless attempts at getting Lucifer into one, it surprisingly didn’t occur to Solomon once you became a demon (in his defense, he was more focused on your well being and adjustment).

“You need to stop scratching, Mc. I know it itches, but you’re going to get an infection. You’ll get used to them eventually.”

While he was lecturing, you were practically boneless in his lap, keening as he softly rubbed your horns and applied ointment on the irritated areas.

“Are you even listening to me?” He huffed in false annoyance, feeling a smile fight its way onto his face when you whined at the loss of his touch.

Nudging your head against his hand, you stubbornly huffed right back. “Yes. Don’t be mean- feels good. You're so sweet to me…”

“Don’t get used to it, darling apprentice. You’ll learn how to do this yourself eventually, too.”

And while you did in fact get the hang of caring for your own demon form, you simply enjoyed when he did it instead.

“You know, each of the ten demons you have wrapped around your finger would jump at the chance to help you.”

You hummed in agreement, curling in on yourself at the blissful feeling of Solomon grooming your extra appendage(s).

He lifts a brow, “And yet I’m still called, why? No complaints here of course, but I am curious.”

“Want you.” Stretching, you shift onto his lap to be closer, “Don’t you want me anymore, Sol?”

Solomon inhales sharply, tilting his head so you have more room where you’re nipping at his pulse point with your sharpened canines, “Of course I do, Mc.”

The lightbulb finally goes off in his brain when he catches you glaring at his bare upper body, to which he’s all too happy to oblige you :

“What’s with that look?” Based on the tone of his voice, he very well knew what said ‘look’ was for.

You bared your teeth anyway. “You’re mine.” nails scratched over the pacts on his lower stomach as your hands gripped and prodded at every small inch of bare skin you could see.

Solomon wanted to see just how possessive a new demon could get. Did you have those instincts yet, especially since he was already yours beforehand? “I am. So why don’t you prove it?”

“Gladly.” Your voice came out as a low growl, hands finally coming to a stop when your fingers brushed ever so slightly below his belt. “I think mine will go riiight…here.” You pressed down over his pelvis firmly.

He tried not to stutter, “o-oh?” but he could feel the blush snaking up his face.

“Make a pact with me, Solomon. ‘S not fair you have so many marks but mine…mine’ll be the prettiest, though…especially on you.”

“Fuck- yes, I’ll form a pact with you, Mc—“ Solomon’s back arches at your pact etching into his skin, having forgotten the feeling, but the knowledge that it’s yours makes it all the more better.

“mine, mine, mine. Is this proof enough, or do I need to prove it further?”

#obey me x reader #om x reader #barbatos x reader #om barbatos #diavolo x reader #om diavolo #mephisto x reader #mephistopheles x reader #om mephisto #simeon x reader #om simeon #solomon x reader #om solomon #obey me drabbles

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lelengerine · 8 months

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but i love you, teaser.

pairing | jaemin x reader

synopsis | for someone who prefers keeping to yourself, just how did you end up in the position of vice president for your class? not to mention, your partner is the sparkling golden boy of the school, na jaemin.

genre | class officers au, a lot of the grumpy x sunshine trope, fluff, angst, mutual pining, reader uses she/her pronouns, jaemin uses a nickname for reader (angel), cursing, more to be added in the full release

wc | 0.5k for the teaser, est. 3k+ for the entire fic!

notes | i'm back and happy birthday to our dearest nana <3 i originally wanted to finish everything so i could post it for his birthday but i think it's better i don't rush the writing for this one,, hence the teaser :D likes and rbs are highly appreciated!

m.list → send in an ask or reply to be added to the taglist!

your breathing turns ragged and heavy as you try keeping up with jaemin’s own feet — your only passing thought wondering how the boy in front of you hasn’t faltered a bit from his brisk jog amidst the empty school hallways.

the two of you were tasked to submit the class attendance folder to the teachers lounge at 7 in the morning, a daily hinderance to someone who’d rather laze around in the classroom to get a couple more minutes of sleep before the first bell would ring, someone in the likes of you.

“na jaemin! god, slow the fuck down.” you finally huff, falling behind in your steps to catch your breath.

your classmate turns around on his heel at the call of his name, “maybe you’re simply too slow, angel.” he flashes an award-winning grin while tightly holding the important folder to submit, his actions doing nothing to ease your exhaustion.

“my bad, this angel doesn’t have two feet in the air to fly whenever she wants.” your reply is enveloped in sarcasm, chest heaving at a calmer pace than a few moments prior.

“you gotta live a little, run a bit more. maybe then, you’ll take off.” the quote-esque words have you grimacing at the thought, believing it to be a sense of false, cringe worthy hope provided by the boy.

“the only thing about to fly is my fist to your face, na.” you grumble, an arm ready to hit the boy with full force as soon as your mind gives confirmation to do so.

jaemin brings a hand over your curled-up fist, halting your swing before it even happens. “nuh, uh. you wouldn’t want to risk that on your stellar school record, would you?” he tuts with a knowing look on his face, “how ironic for an angel, indeed.”

“you’re the only one that calls me that anyways.” you retract your hand back down slowly after being flustered by the mention of your student record, still eyeing the boy in front of you — the bright expression on his face remaining in tact.

“it’s because i think it suits you.” he simply puts it, turning his back on you to continue walking towards the teachers lounge.

“and how exactly does that make sense?” you inquire, trailing him from behind, and the boy knows he’s garnered your attention for the second time today.

“why should i trouble myself and explain it further?” he returns the query back in your hands, still looking ahead of him. “do i get something in return?”

“that’s just childish, na. we’re seniors.” you remind him with the roll of your eyes, somewhat glad he couldn’t see you from his position.

“hey, i don’t do things for free.”

“you do class president tasks for free.” you quickly point out, the familiar door that leads the the teachers lounge finally coming into view at the end of the hallway.

“that’s rather inevitable, isn’t it? being in this position just means its part of my responsibilities.” he shrugs, slowing down his movement now that he sees the destination ahead.

“you’re just being boring.” you groan in protest, detesting how the boy is trying to be difficult with you.

he turns around once more, albeit much more abrupt than the first instance, making you almost bump into his back side. “then how’s this? i’ll tell you the reason during the upcoming school festival.”

“fine.” you reply, straightening your clothes out after that brief moment of getting frazzled. “you can’t take that back now, na.”

“wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #jaemin #jaemin fluff #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles

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stateofcharles · 2 years

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we have your back - LH44

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

word count: ~ 2,1k

warnings: hurt/comfort, harsh language, sexism, RB team

summary: (requested by Anon) Hello! Can I request one with LH44 where you work at Merc, and are like the little girl for everyone in the team, and in one race someone from other team is really mean to you so he defends you 🙏🏼💕

a/n: first request yay :) i added something to the end, lemme know if you like it. keep sending me your ideas, i love reading them and i’ll try to work on them asap <3

“Good morning Y/N!” Angela greeted you as you entered the Mercedes garage that Thursday for media day. You were wearing your Mercedes merch, as usual, and you had sunglasses on the top of your head.

You were a quite known figure in the paddock: despite being very young, recently graduated, you had been working in the F1 world for 2 years already. Everything had started thanks to your dad’s long friendship with Toto Wolff. The Austrian man had always been a constant presence at your house, ever since you were a kid, and when he knew about your studies he hadn’t hesitated to offer you an internship at the Mercedes factory.

Saying that everyone had loved you ever since the first day was an understatement: your outgoing and friendly personality had immediately caught everybody’s attention, especially a certain British driver’s.

You and Lewis had gradually gotten to know each other and you had developed a strong bond. Despite the age gap, you were great friends and you both knew you could count on each other whenever you needed it.

Over time, it was crystal clear that you were born to work in that environment, you were a natural talent, and it didn’t take a long time before you had a stable job.

While everyone in your team was really happy and proud of you, it was no secret that some other team didn’t believe the same. More than once you had been told about Marko’s and other Red Bull’s workers bad-mouthing you. The most popular rumour spread by them was that you had gotten your job because you were hooking up with one of the drivers or - even worse - with Toto. That latter was disgusting: Toto was almost a second father to you, how could that thought even cross their mind?

Despite your numerous attempts not to listen to them, those words hurt you. You had always been confident about your capabilities and you really didn’t want some stupid man to ruin that state. That day someone thought it differently though.

“Hiya Ang!” you greeted the woman back, then asked “is Lewis already here? I have some documents he should read before the interviews begin.”

“I’ve seen him heading towards his driver’s room about ten minutes ago, but I don’t know if he’s still here.” You smiled and nodded, then you headed to the drivers’ zone, where you knew you could find the boy. In fact, you saw him just leaving his driver’s room, so you called his name, drawing his attention.

“Hey beauty!” he smiled at you, genuinely happy to see you, and then engulfed you in a big hug.

“Hi Lew,” you untangled from his arms, immediately handing him the papers, which he gazed confusedly at, “Just some stuff I was told you should read before the conference.”

“What about?” he asked.

“You know, the usual, about which journalists will be there and the kind of questions they could be asking you.” you answered boringly; that pattern would repeat itself almost every race weekend, you knew it by heart basically.

“Well, then I don’t care.” He handed it back to you, “You know that anyway I’ll do whatever I want” he stated with a devilish grin.

“Yeah, sure.” You grinned back, it was impossible not to be affected by his beautiful expression.

“See you later Y/N, gotta go!” he was almost leaving you but before you could wave back, he surprised you by leaving a sweet kiss on your cheek.

You stood in the hallway, unable to move: these interactions weren’t new, but in the past they had always come after a specific event. That was the first time he had acted so spontaneously. You couldn’t deny you had liked it, that would have been hypocritical.

__________

Lewis was sitting in the conference room together with Pierre, Daniel, Mick and Alex. You had managed to sneak in just a couple of minutes after the beginning, and were now standing in the back of the hall. No one had noticed you except for him, his face had immediately lightened up when he saw you, and that had made your stomach clench. You were falling for the driver you worked for, how could you be so pathetic?

You were too busy drooling all over him that you hadn’t heard the question he had just been asked. You were alarmed by his expression, which suddenly became serious, too serious.

“Sorry, can you repeat, I think I misunderstood.” He was tense, you could tell it by both his tone and his body position: he had brought his elbows on his knees and he was staring intensely at the journalist, his eyes meaning just Tell me I misunderstood because otherwise you’re dead.

“Uhm yeah, sure.” The journalist, a man in his 50s, had as well sensed Lewis’ mood shift, and he was clearly trying to readjust his question. “Have you heard about what’s been said this morning about your team?” He was testing the waters, scared that he may have overstepped.

“No? I didn’t have this pleasure but enlighten me, please.” He was sarcastic, meaning that he had perfectly heard the first question.

“Ok, then-” the man stopped, he was blatantly nervous. “In a press conference this morning it has been said that someone from your team has been hired thanks to some favours done to the people from high up, and it was sworn they would bring evidence.” He had said it all in one breath, and he was now waiting for Lewis’ answer, like all the others in the room. Everyone was silent, and you could see some photographers getting ready as soon as Lewis took a deep breath before replying.

“May I ask who spread those rumours and who are they about?” The boy was still incredibly calm, but you could sense he was soon to blow up.

“I can’t- I mean I was told not to-” the man was stuttering, utterly scared by the Britishman. It was impressive how towering his presence was, he could silence everyone with just a glare.

“Perhaps I should rephrase my sentence: tell me now who said so and who they were talking about. It’s not a question, it’s an order.” He was clearly getting angrier and angrier, you knew he couldn’t stand anyone being disrespectful towards his team, which had been his second family for almost 10 years.

The journalist sighed desolated, clearly knowing what he had gotten himself into and that he was anyway going to be screwed. “Christian Horner, this morning during an interview for a Dutch channel, and he was talking about Y/N Y/L/N.”

Lewis didn’t seem to react at the beginning, but then he let out a sour giggle before stating, “Why was I expecting it?”

The room was dead-silent, no one dared speak or move. Your heart started pounding and you could see your vision blurring because of the tears: knowing about the rumours was already humiliating, but hearing them from a complete stranger who seemed to believe them was something else. The fact that now Lewis was conscious was even worse. You thought that you were the only one in the team who was aware of them, but now you knew that it was just a matter of time before news would be spread everywhere, and you would start getting hateful messages from anyone.

When Lewis finally decided to speak, you were still petrified and were barely registering his words. “First of all, tell Horner to mind his fucking business and worry about his team and his team only. Also remind him that the trophy here is for winning the races, not for who spreads more bullshit about other teams, ‘cause he seems to be a pro in this.” His voice was pure ice, but he didn’t seem to want to stop.

“Secondly, nobody from the team owes you any kind of explanation, but since apparently this is the only way you’ll shut up, then I guess it’s on me. Y/N was hired because she’s incredibly talented, she has proved more than once that she has all the requirements and she’s perfectly qualified to work with us, she’s even doing better than many other people who have been there since before her arrival. And then I’d like to ask, but this is just my impression, why hasn’t anyone said anything about Elliott? He’s a friend of Angela’s and he was hired just a couple of months ago, though no one seemed to care about it, am I wrong?” As he kept speaking, you couldn’t help but stare at him, a sense of protection was flowing from his eyes to your body.

“Avoid this kind of sexist comments because if you think they’ll get you some popularity then you’re completely wrong. And now I’m leaving, I don’t care about this shitshow anymore.” As he finished his speech he stood up, he placed the microphone on the chair and headed towards the door. Just before exiting, he seemed to remember something and you saw him walking to you, before grabbing your hand and leaving through the fire exit.

You weren’t really paying attention to where he was leading you, still startled by what had just happened, but before you could realise you found yourself in his driver’s room. Again, he hugged you tightly before whispering in your ear “Let it go” and then was when all your walls broke down. Tears started streaming over your cheeks and then on his shirt, but he didn’t seem to care, he just lifted you up and then sat on his couch with you still clinging to him.

He nuzzled your neck with his nose, an incredibly intimate gesture that immediately calmed your sobs. When you looked up, you were met with the kindest hazel eyes and the softest smile you had ever seen. He left a kiss on your forehead, one on your nose and then he pecked you on the lips. You widened your eyes but he didn’t seem to notice any change, as if it was routine for him to kiss you like that.

“You know you don’t have to listen to what some idiot rambles about you right?” He didn’t even wait for your answer, he just kept going on, “Here we all know your value, you are perfect to work here and I know Toto saw that something in you.”

“I- it’s just so difficult Lewis,” your voice was still broken and you let out a deep sigh, “I know I can make it but it’s horrible because their words creep in my head.”

“Why have you never told me about it? You know I’m here for you, right?”

“I know that and I’m extremely grateful to you for this but- I don’t wanna be a burden and I wanna show them I can make it on my own, you know that?”

“I get it but-” he paused, as if he was looking for the best words to voice his thoughts, “This world can be overwhelming and cruel. No one will blame you if you look for help, especially during these first years. The team and I are more than willing to support you in your journey sweetie, just don’t keep all this inside, it’s not healthy.” He left another kiss on your forehead, as if he was sealing his promise.

You couldn’t help but throw yourself in his arms, shaken by that day’s events but extremely grateful for Lewis and your team having your back. You were still processing everything that had happened in the previous hour that you almost forgot about the kiss. Though apparently they boy hadn’t.

“Can I ask you something?” he was suddenly… nervous? You nodded and he went on, “I know maybe now it’s not the best of times, but I was wondering if- well if you’d like to go out together tonight.” Wait, was he blushing? Lewis Hamilton, 7-time world champion and the man who had just silented a whole room just with his gaze, was blushing… because of you?

You came back to reality when you realised his words. “Go out… like a date? Me and you?” You couldn’t believe your ears, was that really happening?

“Yeah, that was the idea.” He scratched the back of his head, a sheepish smile on his lips, on those flawless lips that had kissed yours just a little while before.

You took his hand in yours, squeezing it, while this time it was you who left a peck on his mouth. “I’d be honoured to.” You whispered back, and you could swear that the smile that adorned his face after was the brightest you had ever seen.

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lestappenforever · 2 months

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So, pre-season testing over, let’s talk numbers. Specifically, comparing the numbers of the past 3 days. (This is just by looking at the time sheets, and some stuff I found on twitter these past couple of days, and I will be doing a full analysis as much as I could after subscribing to F1 TV as I want to be able to look at all the data, the telemetry, tyre deg, etc)

Day 1 saw Max topping the board with 1:31:344, followed by Lando with 1:32:484 and Carlos 1:32:584, on that day, Charles was 1:33:247. To look at this, Max was the best during day 1. And let’s not forget the fact that Max was in C3, kind of used, they were not fresh tyres when he went on this run, and he was on a considerably high fuel load, almost as much fuel as a full race. In addition to the fact that this was day 1, on a track that is known for its high temps, and its improvements as time pass. Charles was not able to pull times as Max or Lando or Carlos because he was in the morning run, aka the worst run of the track, as the weather was very war (track temp being around 38) and the track was literally being used for the first time in a while.

Day 2 saw Carlos topping the timesheet with a 1:29:921, while Checo was on 1:30:679 followed by Lewis who pulled a 1:31:066, while Charles pulled a 1:31:750. Again, Charles went in the AM session, temps are high, track is only getting better. And let’s bot overlook the fact that Carlos pulled the 1:29 on C5 tyres, Charles didn’t use any softs yesterday.

Finally day 3, which saw Charles at the top if the time sheet with 1:30:322, followed by George who managed a 1:30:368, followed by Zhou, who got a 1:30:647 and then Max with a 1:30:755. This was in the best track conditions, but the times by Charles, George and Zhou are not indicators for next week, and we can’t consider them for the first race next Saturday. The reason is that Charles, George and Zhou were on C4 tyres, softs in testing, but nit Bahrain’s softs. The tyre compounds used in Bahrain are C1, C2 and C3. Which means that Max only used the tyres to be used on a GP weekend, and he topped the timesheet today with these tyres, pulling the fastest time with them, and only being 4th while the top 3 are using softer, faster, newer and grippier tyres.

Now from these, we can conclude a couple of things: 1. Red Bull are apparently very very very tyre friendly. I mean, from that Twitter screenshots earlier were showing the tyre deg and the fact Max improved his time as he used the tyres (or could just be he’s insane, which he is) 2. The Ferrari is good, better than last year that is for sure, and the fact that they were among the top in most sessions, impressive work from the Scuderia who hopefully are able to do good this year, and don’t fuck up in other areas if the car is as good as it looks. 3. Mercedes are worrying, not being able to top the timesheet at any session, and the drivers from other teams are able to pull better times on same tyre compounds, and Lewis even went on C5 today, yet Checo and Carlos beat him by quiet a bit?! 4. McLaren were very omnious, like the car looks good and is pulling good timings, but Idk, the fact that they only topped one timesheet, despite lando and oscar being two very good drivers, Idk. 5. ZAK BROWN YOU SHOULD BE SCARED, RB ARE COMING FOR YOU (no more context the RB looks good and Yuki and Daniel were extremely impressive) and 6. Adrian Newey is the GOAT nothing to add your honor.

Of course this is just by watching some of the testing (I watched all day 1, about 3/4 of day 3 and none of day 2) and this is just by timesheets and twitter. I’ll still try to analyse the data further (trying to work in F1 as an engineer and I’m hoping to convince the teams with any of that) and of course, race week is just around the corner, so We Shall See……

(Again, so sorry for the rant. But you’ve literally become my comfort person who I could rant to and geek out to in F1)

I love your brain so, so much. Can I live there? ❤️

As someone who hasn’t had time to watch much of the testing at all due to work, this is incredibly well summed up and really gives an insight into all the things I've missed. Thank you so, so much for sharing this, you seriously have no idea how happy it makes me to see you in my ask box.

I'm so excited for next weekend, and I'm so excited for your full analysis, like damn. I will be seated.

(Never apologize for ranting in my inbox — I love every single word you write and you are welcome at any time. And it makes me so happy to know I'm your comfort person, are you kidding? That is such an honor. ❤️)

#Asks #agentofchaos001 #agentofchaos001 ❤️#My beloved #The joy your asks bring me is actually insane

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yeongwonie · 2 years

Text

STUPID CUPID! — 50

SYNOPSIS. alone on valentine’s day, you decide to sign up for the student council’s fundraiser: a matchmaking survey, hoping to at least get a few laughs out of the whole ordeal. little do you know, park sunghoon (your archenemy since junior high) has the same idea. but it’s fine! your student body president, kim sunoo, would never tamper with the matching system, right?

note. last chapter! i’m so grateful for all of the love and support u’ve all given me on this smau truly, it’s been an amazing experience writing it and because of it i’ve gotten to meet so many amazing people as well ^^ like i said ystd i’ll be posting the mlist for my next smau tmrw (it’s for jake wink wonk) so i hope you enjoy that as well! thank you for reading as always and i love you <3

+ please rb if u want to!! it rlly helps w/tumblr’s algorithm :))

masterlist

⤎ prev | 50 — stupid cupid! (written; 1.1k)

YOUR FOOT TAPS ABSENTLY AGAINST the tile flooring of the restaurant. looking out of the window and across the small intersection, you can see the side of a humble, slightly worn-down building: your old middle school. in the early morning, it’s nice to reminisce on the years you’d spent in that very building alongside sunoo and sunghoon.

a sigh escapes your lips as you read every single item on the menu for the fourth time, then pull out your phone. you hadn’t expected them to be early, but you’d been sitting in the booth and waiting for over ten minutes. a typed out expression of your frustration sits above your keyboard, and your fingers hover over the send button as you hear the little ding of the bell placed above the restaurant’s door.

“what took you so long?” you scold as sunoo and sunghoon, both clad in coats with the collars standing straight up, approach your table.

“sorry,” sunghoon says, sliding into the booth next to you. sunoo takes the seat directly across from you.

“someone made us go back because he forgot something. twice,” sunoo grumbles, then winces lightly in pain as sunghoon presumably kicks him in the shin under the table.

“no worries.” you sit up straighter in your seat, looking first at sunghoon, then at sunoo. interlacing your fingers and resting your chin on your hands, you smile. “so.”

sunoo frowns at you. “so?”

“so, we’re finally back here together. this feels special somehow.”

next to you, sunghoon’s looking past your head and out of the same window you’d been staring at earlier, eyes tracing over the roof of the school, the courtyard, and the front gates. you follow his gaze and, if you squint hard enough, you think you’d be able to see into the classrooms, probably still identical to how they’d been years ago when the three of you were attending.

inside those classrooms, you’d met sunoo, who was so bright and cheerful even as a preteen, and sunghoon, who’d stolen your favorite eraser and was so quiet sometimes it stressed you out. you weren’t able to pinpoint the exact moment they’d shifted from classmates in your mind to your best friends. the thought made tears prick the back of your eyes.

“it is special,” sunghoon affirms, refocusing on you. sunoo nods, and looks up from his menu.

“okay, hurry and decide what you want to eat,” you say, trying to take an authoritative tone although it comes out slightly rushed with how close you were to tearing up. “we don’t have that long before first period.”

sunghoon, sunoo, and you spend the better part of the next half hour sitting in the booth, happily eating your breakfast. it makes you happy, being able to be with them both like this. once the check is taken care of (sunghoon insists on paying, talking about some agreement he had with sunoo as he grabs your hand to keep you from slipping your card into the clipboard [though, he doesn’t release it once you relent]), you stand up and stretch.

“you’re welcome,” sunoo grins at you while he pulls on the sleeves of his coat.

“for what? sunghoon paid,” you furrow your brows at him.

“i’m basically the reason you two are on speaking terms again.”

“definitely not, it was kind of a stupid idea,” you laugh.

“you’re also kind of the reason we didn’t speak for like a week,” sunghoon adds. you begin walking to the door of the restaurant, bowing slightly to the staff standing behind the counter, then exiting.

“no way, that was all you two,” sunoo glares at the two of you once you’re outside standing on the sidewalk. he eyes sunghoon carefully, trying to tell him something with the raising of his brows, but sighs when sunghoon only tilts his head in confusion. “i’m gonna head to class early, student council things. see you guys later.”

sunoo walks away briskly, waving over his shoulder and leaving you and sunghoon standing by the entrance.

“we still have,” you check your phone, “15 minutes. what do you want to do?”

“i have something for you, actually,” sunghoon says as he gingerly releases your hand and reaches into the inner pocket of his coat.

“what? why?”

“it’s white day, right? i brought you chocolates,” he smiles tenderly.

“but i didn’t get you anything for valentine’s day,” you pout.

“you got me a few days of pity from my friends,” he says. “sunoo didn’t make fun of me for a whole 48 hours, he felt so bad.”

you open your mouth to say something, but he pushes the package into your hands. you carefully accept the heart-shaped box, then peel off the bright orange sticky note stuck to its surface.

“for my soulmate,” you read out, ears growing warm despite the morning chill.

“that’s you.”

“thank you, sunghoon.”

“of course.”

you hug the box to your chest and feel something in the pit of your stomach flutter at the thought. you’re holding a white day gift from park sunghoon, your best friend turned enemy turned friend turned…

“does this mean i can finally change your contact name from future girlfriend to girlfriend?”

“that’s probably the lamest way you could’ve asked me to be your girlfriend,” you chuckle, lacing your fingers with his once more. “but yes.”

he pulls you into another kiss and you can feel his smile pressed softly against your own.

“good,” he whispers. “i’m glad.”

you pull a little closer by his hand, then slip both of your hands into one pocket of your coat. tilting your head just a bit so it can rest lightly against his shoulder, you begin the walk back to campus.

in a way, you feel proud, both of yourself and of sunghoon. despite everything you’ve done to each other, every cruel thing you’ve said, you’d still managed to end up here, hand in hand, hearts fluttering in sync. you look behind you, and the outline of your junior high grows blurry with the distance.

“can we skip first period?” sunghoon asks quietly, squeezing your hands and shooting you a pleading look that breaks you out of your thoughts.

“i don’t think your record can handle another detention,” you answer, shaking your head.

“but it would be worth it.”

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el-writes-things · 8 days

Text

day one - "you're my new pillow"

day one of the 30 day writing challenge woohoo!

this one is for the quanyin fans :3 i love them very much they're the sweetest ☀️🌙

sorry if it's slightly ooc! i haven't written for quanyin... ever... this is literally my first fic for them which is surprising but yeah!

you can read the fic here utc or on ao3 (i'm putting more context for it on ao3 too!)

rbs and comments are super appreciated :) esp as a small writer, they're very encouraging!

day two >

“Shixiong… I’m so sleepy…”

Yin Yu took a glance at the number of stops that remained before they would return to their home station, then tapped the screen of the phone that sat between him and his boyfriend. The numbers on the bright screen, flashing above the song they were listening to together, informed him that it was nearly three in the morning.

The pair had gone out into the city to watch a movie together, planning a whole day around the nine-o’clock showing in the evening. It only took one mishap with the sudden pouring rains and Quan Yizhen’s mix-up with the navigation that resulted in them missing the movie. They’d gone to eat dinner while they waited and caught the next screening, which had ended at two, leaving them to catch their train with exhausted and addled brains, nearly boarding the wrong train before finally managing to collapse into the seats that would bring them home.

“We’ll be home in half an hour, Yizhen. Will you be okay?”

Quan Yizhen groaned dramatically, burying his face in Yin Yu’s shoulder. “I’ll die before we get there.”

Yin Yu’s lips twitched upwards in a smile and he scooped up the phone to rest in his lap, moving closer to Quan Yizhen.

“Do you want to know what this reminds me of?”

Quan Yizhen mumbled a generally affirmative noise, moving to rest his head more comfortably on Yin Yu’s shoulder, and Yin Yu went on.

“Back when we were in high school, the sparring club… you’d do this all the time. You’d sprint all around the gym and yell and challenge people to duels and tackle people and come running back to me with some kind of bruise or bump. And then…” Yin Yu trailed off, and gave Quan Yizhen a look.

The curly-haired man beside him let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “Go on…”

“And then you’d exhaust yourself. Before practice was even over, you’d come back to me and tell me that you were thirsty and tired. I’d tell you to sit down, and I’d pass you my water bottle-”

“Because I’d either left mine at home or drank all of mine-”

“Exactly. As if that wasn’t enough, you’d take my water bottle and drink all of my water.”

Quan Yizhen covered his face in his hands. Pink blush tinged his ears. “Shixiong, you were a saint.”

“I was?” Yin Yu teased. “I’d say I still am.”

His boyfriend huffed in mock-annoyance. “Finish your story, you bully.”

“Why? You already know it.”

“But I like it when you talk about it. It’s cute.”

Yin Yu gave a soft, dramatic sigh and reached around to wrap his arms around Quan Yizhen's middle. “Fine.

“So, you’d run up to me complaining about how sleepy you were. I’d let you drink all my water and then you would flop down on the gym floor and close your eyes.

“I’d scold you and tell you that you’d catch a cold if you slept like that-”

“Which I never did! You were wrong,” Quan Yizhen insisted. His eyes were half-closed, but a self-satisfied smile spread across his lips.

Yin Yu snorted. “Maybe I should tell this story more. You would’ve definitely caught a cold, but I told you to either use a sweatshirt as a pillow or put your head on my lap. Now do you remember?”

“Yeah,” Quan Yizhen said. His face was soft, making him appear a few years younger. If Yin Yu unfocused his eyes, he could pretend they were back in the gymnasium of their old high school. “I always picked your lap.”

“Mhm. Then, before I knew it, you were snoring away with your head on my lap and Coach was yelling at us for being lazy.”

Quan Yizhen’s face scrunched up. “Coach hated me.”

“She did not.”

“No, she definitely did. I didn’t care though. I hated her too.”

Yin Yu grinned at that. “You did. Anyway, that’s what I was thinking about.”

The train rumbled to a stop and a flow of bleary-eyed late-nighters and foul-smelling drunkards exited. Their subway car was nearly empty now, save for a single college-age boy wearing black headphones, scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, and an exhausted looking couple leaning on each other, eyes closed. Yin Yu watched them through the haze of his memories, nostalgia burning behind his eyes. Those days had been so long ago, he’d almost forgotten to miss them.

As if Quan Yizhen was reading his thoughts, he sat up and gave Yin Yu a broad smile. “That’s a great idea. You’re my new pillow!”

With that, he flopped down across the bench they sat on together. He stretched and yawned enormously, resting his head on Yin Yu’s thigh. His golden sun earrings glinted brightly in the flashing lights passing by as their train whipped through tunnels.

“Yizhen!” Yin Yu said, half-amused and half-exasperated.

“Shh,” Quan Yizhen said, closing his eyes and pulling his dark blue jacket tighter around himself. “I’m sleeping.”

He did look rather peaceful, fluffy hair pooling around his head in a golden-brown halo that caught the harsh fluorescent glow and turned into something almost like sunlight. Yin Yu relented easily.

“Alright, fine. Sleep well, my favorite shidi.”

Quan Yizhen sighed happily. “I’m your favorite. I knew it.”

“You always were,” Yin Yu feels compelled to inform him. He moves one hand to rest lightly on Quan Yizhen’s shoulder. Quan Yizhen reached up and grabbed that hand, as simply as if it was breathing.

When Yin Yu finally looked away from the sight of his sleeping boyfriend, he caught sight of a dark-haired man across the train from him.

His long, jet-black hair was braided down his left side, secured by a dark purple ribbon. The space beneath his eyes was dark with sleepless nights and the heavy weight of stress. His black sweater didn’t fit as perfectly as it used to, hanging slightly loose around his shoulders.

But it was hair braided by his boyfriend’s loving hands, palms calloused with years of hard work, full of tenderness just for him. They were eyes that sparkled with happiness, not the same exhaustion he used to feel in high school, trying his best to feel like he measured up to everyone else around him. They were shoulders that didn’t slump, cutting a bold figure, confidence spilling out of the way he held himself.

Yin Yu smiled at the man in the reflection, and the man smiled back.

#yin yu #quan yizhen #quanyin #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #heaven officials blessing #tgcf fic #writing

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