#was about being sorry and he was looking right at porsche

[ae-azile]

Progression, Chapter 27: Preview

Chay: Kim and I have a son now. 🥹

Khun: Kim’s PREGNANT?! 🤰🏻 Kim! Why wouldn't you TELL me? 🖕🏼

Kim: I don't have the parts for that. 

Chay: Don't remind me 😞

Porsche: I'm going to ignore you just saying that and instead ask for clarification. Whose baby did you steal? You're too young to be a parent. You have your college interview and practical coming up. 

Macau: Does P’Pete’s dad have another baby he was mistreating that you took?

Pete: I am in this group chat, Macau. 

Macau: Sorry 😬

Chay: He's not a human baby! He's a dog! 

Porsche: Chay! Dogs are a big responsibility! What about college?

Chay: I can walk him on some parts of campus! You are acting like I can’t take him anywhere. And even if I can't take him somewhere, you are acting like you won't watch him. 

Porsche: I won't! You got yourself into this mess! I'm not taking care of him! 

Chay: Meet Koda! 

Porsche: …I will protect him with my life. 

Pol: Awwwww ♥️

Khun: HE IS THE CUTEST DOG IN THE WORLD!!!! I’M AN UNCLE!!!! ❤️🧡🧡💚🩵💙

Nalin: You already are an uncle, Khun! 🙂♥️

Arm: Why are you in this group chat???

Nalin: To gather stray gossip about you. You're SO interesting despite how boring you can be. 

Arm: Who added you?

Nalin: Why do you not want me included? You could just be grateful that I take an interest in your life? 

Arm: Huh? 

Porsche: Did he pose like that? 

Chay: Yes! He was jumping for a ball. When I pulled my phone out to take a picture, he looked at me, then stood up on his hind legs and gave me that look! He's SO smart and sweet. I love him more than I have ever loved anyone. 

Porsche: Wow. Kim and I are RIGHT HERE. 

Kim: He has said it fifteen times to me and your ma already. We both accept it. He's a sweet dog. Great actor too. He acted sickly and depressed while we were at the shelter. We took him to the pet store and that all stopped. He kept pulling us through the aisles and taking all the toys he was interested in off the hooks. 

Chay: And he got every single one because he deserves them. 🥰

Kim: Not for his abilities on a leash. 

Chay: Fine. He needs some practice on a leash. But he doesn't jump on anyone unless you prompt him to jump up on his hind legs. He's perfect. And he wasn't faking being sick, Kim. You know he has problems. We can both see the polyp and inflammation in his ear! But Kim is telling the truth. His personality changed within minutes. It must have sunk in that he finally found a loving home. ♥️ Mindset and support can do wonders to alleviate depression and chronic pain! He's not even 3 yet and the staff said his asshole owner dropped him off there when he was only 8 months old! He was there for over two years and no one showed him any interest because of his ear problems. I can't believe that vet wouldn't come out and operate on him for another week. That's why we got a hold of Phoenix’s vet. We dropped his paperwork off at the office and he said he could do the surgery in two days. 

Kim: Probably for the best. That way, you aren't stressing about it and compromising your interview and practical. 

Chay: Or when we meet with your label next weekend. 

Kim: OUR label. 

Arm: Are you both sitting at the park together but talking through here? 

Chay: You all are free to jump in at any moment. 

Nalin: Your dog is really cute, Chay! I love dogs. ♥️

Macau: You do? I do too! I’ve been thinking about getting a dog. 

Vegas: Since when? You've never even had one. 

Macau: I've always wanted one. 

Nalin: If you get one, Preeda volunteers at a rescue near our apartment. 

Macau: I'll go there first ☺️

Nalin: 😁

Arm: 🤨

Vegas: 🙄

Pete: Do you have more pictures, Chay? 

Pete: Very cute. 🙂

Kinn: I'm looking forward to meeting him. 🙂

Tankhun: I am too! 🤗 Although, it is bad timing. 

Chay: Getting Koda today was PERFECT timing. 

Kim: He will not take any critique that includes Koda’s name in it. Watch it. He's come up with three songs about him in the last twenty minutes.

Porsche: Aww. Are they good?

Kim: They’re…songs. 

Tankhun: I'm not critiquing a new family member. But I was going to reach out in a bit to see if you, Kinn, Vegas, and Macau were available tonight. I wanted to go to Yok’s together and rent out the VIP room for long overdue brotherly/cousinly drunken bonding!!! 😩

Vegas: You want to get drunk together?

Tankhun: Of course! 

Vegas: What's your angle?

Tankhun: Finding out Pa’s angle is my angle! And I want to spend time with my brothers - who know him the best, as well as with you and Macau - who hate him the most!

Vegas: How did the breakfast with him go? 

Tankhun: He arrived set on ending the relationship and ended up taking away Arm’s guard status!

Nalin: You don't have a job anymore, Hia???

Tankhun: He gave him a better job. Arm is to solely focus on the technical aspect of our security system. The only duty he will be keeping from his time as head guard is overseeing the intake and routine trainings. To fill up his time, Pa has offered him the Chief Information Officer for the Theerapanyakul Luxury and Amenities Brand. And then, he called him “son.” 🤢

Vegas: Sounds like he actually approves, but has taken an interest in him. That sucks. 

Macau: Congratulations on the new job, Arm. 🙂

Arm: Thank you? 

Vegas: 🙄 Suck up. 

Arm: What? 

Nalin: Glad you're not jobless. You get dangerous when you're bored. That's what Malai and Hansa always say.

Arm: They exaggerate. 

Pol: You literally built toy cars that explode on a slow work day. 

Vegas: YOU built those? 

Tankhun: To be fair, I gave him the idea. 

Vegas: Well, I figured that. 

Tankhun: Let’s get drunk together and move past it! Macau too! 

Vegas: No Macau. 

Macau: Hia, I am legally allowed to drink now. 

Vegas: Not around me.

Macau: Fine. I will just go somewhere else and drink. Alone. 

Vegas: You won't. 

Macau: Why can't I see you drunk? You're a messy drunk, aren't you? 

Vegas: No

Tankhun: I can't speak for Vegas, but I can assure you I am incredibly classy and low-key when I am under the influence. 

Arm: 😂🤣😂

Tankhun: ARM, YOU ARE ONE TO USE THOSE EMOJIS TO TRY AND ACT LIKE YOU ARE A BETTER DRUNK THAN ME! 🥃🍻🕺🏼⛳

Pol: I don’t remember Arm ever golfing when he was drunk…

Nalin: I want to see Hia drunk. 

Arm: Absolutely not. 

Tankhun: I promise we will have a girls’ night, Nalin. I am in full support of Arm inviting you girls to spend time with Pete, Pol, and Porsche. If you choose to drink together, that's your call. But I feel like an exclusive hang out with my brother and cousins is needed at Yok’s

Nalin: Fine. I will crash your hangout at Pete’s, Hia. 

Macau: I will be home too. Hia doesn't want me to go to Yok’s. Sorry, Khun. 

Vegas: Changed my mind. You can go. 

Macau: It's okay. I don't want to make you feel weird. That's how nice I am. 

Tankhun: You're going, Macau. It's required! 

Macau: Whatever…

Nalin: 🫶🏼

Tankhun: Aw, Nalin. You're so sweet. ♥️ you too! 

Chay: Kim can go. Koda and I will be fine. We're heading back now. 🙂

Tankhun: Yayyyyy! I can't wait to meet my new nephew and spend time with my brothers and cousins tonight!!! It will be so much fun!

Vegas: If you say so? 

Macau: …Yay.

Tankhun: Oh, fuck off! We all made up! See you at 8. 🖕🏼

#progression 27 #progression preview #progression spoilers #text scene #kimchay fanfic #armkhun fic #kimchay fic

[seventh-fantasy]

“I’m used to that by now. Ever since I could remember, the dirty work were for us to do. If there’s something wrong, they suspect us first.”

a lie and some truths.

#kinnporsche #asiandramanet #kinnporschesource #vegas theerapanyakul #bible wichapas #kinnporsche the series #my posts #kpgifs #jielin's edits #thai drama #drama #vegas #LISTEN I JUST HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS SCENE #i already liked this bastard but after this i am ride or die for him #it may just be me going crazy but the only one blatant lie he tells to porsche in this scene #was about being sorry and he was looking right at porsche #otoh he looks away when he talks about his life and feelings #it is him baring some sort of vulnerability for his goals but who said those vulnerabilities arent real? #and i just love it!!! so!!! much!!! #pathetic evil man manipulating his own emotions and tragedies to paint a sympathetic picture to his prey!!!!! #the sad gloomy look!! the more i listen to him the more i am going to willingly walk into his trap #ALSO ANOTHER THING I DON'T FEEL NORMAL ABOUT FROM THIS SCENE #the chinese subs i always watch registered vegas referring to kinn as 二哥 second brother and i just die a little #i really dk what it is in thai but it 100% sounded like vegas didn't say 'kinn' #EITHER WAY #if it's true. him calling kinn that in front of porsche is ofc him pretending to be nice in front of porsche #BUT THE IDEA OF HIM CALLING KINN 二哥 IN GENERAL IS SO SO SO BAD FOR ME 😭😭 #nice respectful family boi #(up next i need a scene of vegas physically harming himself to get/protect smth he cares a lot about it's just in line with how i see him) #(he's crazy like that)

[jaeeyaaasworld]

Car Shopping - LN4

Featuring: Lando Norris x reader

Warning(s): disrespectful car guy, Lando being basically a trophy boyfriend, Lando being a cutie (GOD THIS IS SO AWFUL. I'm sorry but I just got back to writing, pls have mercy on me)

Summary: Y/n decided to finally buy her dream car since she was a child, Lando is accompanying her but the car guy is misunderstanding.

Y/n, a pretty famous model, shouted her boyfriend name in the Monaco attic, entering the living room and sitting on the couch next to Lando, her boyfriend.

"I'm gonna buy it"

she started, earning a confused look on the Formula 1 driver.

"you're gonna buy... what?"

he asked, trying to understand what she was talking about, but suddenly his eyes widenened with realization.

"is it the YSL heels? no, princess, I was gonna get them for you"

he whined, making Y/n aw at his antics.

"you are gonna get them for me? that's really sweet, but it's not them"

she said with a big smile, making Lando furrow his eyebrows.

"is it the Minaudière make up by Dior, then?"

he tried, but getting a shook of head from Y/n.

"come on, Lando. think harder"

Y/n insisted, looking at him with big doe eyes, making him understand in an instant.

"the Porsche. you're getting the Porsche GT3 RS"

Lando said, sitting up with the biggest grin that you've ever seen. with just a nod of your head, Lando was already hugging you tightly, yelling at the top of his lungs as he pulled you on top of him on the couch.

"are you for real?"

he asked, pulling back a little to look you in the eyes.

"I checked if the dealer in Monaco had it in their site, and it says that they could get it shipped here"

you squealed as Lando yelled again and pulled you back in the hug.

"gosh, I'm so happy. are we going now? can I come with you?"

he asked, making you nod your head and get up to get ready to leave.

Time skip: at the dealer

Lando was parking his McLaren in the parking lot when you walked into the big shop and started searching for someone to help you.

the faint voice of someone almost arguing caught your attention.

"it's a girl, shut up John, you got the last one. look at that bag, her husband it's surely filthy rich- hi"

a guy came in front of you, as you recognized his voice as the guy that was arguing with the other worker earlier, noticing how his eyes were setting on the Birkin Lando had gifted you for Christmas.

"my name is Mike, how can I help a pretty girl like you?"

he asked, a sick smile on his lips that almost made you gag. you put a smile on anyway, since you were a really polite person.

"uhm... yes, hi. I read on your site that you can get the blue Porsche GT3 RS shipped here, right?"

you asked politely, making Mike's eyes widen and nod his head.

"sure, come I'll help you"

he said, starting to walk towards his computer, the sound of your heels clicking on the ground echoing on the walls.

"no husband?"

Mike asked, sitting at his desk and searching around for what he needed.

"my boyfriend is parking his car outside"

you corrected him, making him nod.

"you know what you're getting into?"

Mike asked again, making you smirk as you wanted to put a stop to his teasing and attempts to fool you.

"of course I know"

you said, hearing a faint 'damn it' come from the man behind the desk.

"alright, the car is gonna cost a bit much, but I'm sure you already know that since you know what you're getting into. I mean, it's a Porsche, there's not much I can do about it. so... the price is gonna be 320.000 euro-"

"WHAT?!"

Mike couldn't even finish his sentence that Lando's shout could be heard from the other side of the open door.

"that's a robbery-"

he started, but your raised hand stopped him as you got up from the seat in front of Mike's desk. you gave Lando your Birkin as you leaned on Mike's desk.

"Mike, that price is 60.000 euros over the actual price. I accept the fact that you didn't recognize me, but you surely recognize my boyfriend, right?"

the car dealer gulped as he nodded his head.

"now... don't you feel ashamed trying to scam a girl that's been around cars since she was a child and is now in a relationship with a Formula 1 driver? don't you think that I might really know what I'm getting myself into, huh?"

you asked the man, still leaning on the desk.

"I'm far too good for letting you still sit on that chair behind that desk"

you finished, a scoff left your lips as you took your Birkin back and walked out of the concessionary with Lando's hand on your lower back, opening the door for you.

"princess"

he called before you could reach the McLaren, making you hum and turn towards him. Lando placed both his hands on your arms in comfort.

"I know you're angry. why don't we go to that fine restaurant that you like and take a walk around the track, just the way you like?"

he asked softly, getting a sad nod in return as he pulled you close, his lips on your forehead.

"my princess"

he sighed, kissing your lips and smiling down at you.

"I'm gonna make sure we have a consultation with another dealer next time, promise"

#formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 x you #f1 fluff #lando x reader #lando norris #lando imagine #ln4 #lando #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader

[starkwlkr]

mother (no, literally) | f1

I’m so happy you guys are loving this series 🫶🏼 this one has a bit of a time skip lol

part 1 part 2

“Did you hear the news?”

“What news?” Lando asked. It was the first race since coming back from summer break and Lando was excited. He had arrived a bit early so he could eat breakfast with his grid mom, but the mention of ‘news’ stopped him.

“Y/n is out of for the rest of the season. Porsche announced it yesterday.” His PR manager, Charlotte, told him.

“Who’s taking her seat?” He asked.

“Juan Manuel Correa.”

Lando stayed silent. He started to think of the worst possible scenarios. He knew she went to to Mykonos with Charlie for her break since she posted on Instagram and texted him that she got him several gifts. Did something happen on her vacation? He prayed that she was okay.

“Do you know if Adam is in the garage?” Lando asked.

“Yeah, he’s still there.”

And so Lando was off to the Porsche garage in search of their team principal. He definitely had the answers. After greeting the engineers, Lando spotted Adam talking with Juan Manuel Correa.

“Hey, man.” Lando greeted the older man. “Where’s Y/n?.”

Both Adam and Juan Manuel looked at Lando with a sorry look. “Did something happen to her? She didn’t text me anything about leaving Porsche.” Lando wanted the truth.

“She’s not leaving. She’s taking a break and don’t ask me for how long, I have no idea when she’ll be back, but for now we have Juan and I’m sure he’ll do an excellent job. Excuse us, we have to have a short meeting right now. Don’t worry, Lando, she’s not sick or injured. She’s fine, actually she’s more than fine.” Adam squeezed Lando’s shoulder as he passed by to get to his team.

“Do you know something?” Lando asked Juan.

“It’s not my place to tell.” Juan said then excused himself to follow his team principal.

Lando figured that if it was one thing bad then surely someone would tell him. But he received no answers.

TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY MARK WEBBER’S DILFNESS

The F1 off season was here and Lando had plans. First, he needed to see his grid mother. It had been months since he last saw her and everytime he tried to make time to go see her, she wasn’t home. He found it odd, but at least she responded back to his messages.

Y/n was in her LA home with Charlie making dinner. She had found several recipes she wanted to try out. Her belly had grown, obviously, and she couldn’t hide it anymore. When she went out with Charlie, she would wear baggy clothes, but now those same baggy clothes couldn’t hide her bump.

“I’ve been thinking.” Y/n mentioned, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and eating it. “We never talked about godparents. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“I assumed Lando would be the obvious choice even if he doesn’t know about the baby.” Charlie replied, grabbing a strawberry and eating it.

“He was my first choice the second I found out. But I thought that you would choose one of your friends or costars from sons of anarchy.” Y/n stood up from her chair to check on the mac and cheese in the oven.

“If you think Lando should be our baby’s godfather then he should. He’s a great kid, babe. He’s technically your first kid.” Charlie teased.

“I miss my grid kids.”

The doorbell had rung meaning Lando had arrived. It was Charlie’s idea to have dinner with Lando to tell him the news. Well . . Once he noticed the big baby bump on Y/n, he would get an idea. While Charlie went to answer the door, Y/n got the mac and cheese out the oven.

Lando had gotten used to being around Charlie. Sure, he was a bit skeptical at first, but once he got to know the man, he knew that Charlie was the one for his grid mom.

“Hey, mate. How was your flight?” Cherie greeted Lando once he opened the door.

“Same as all the others. How are you and the missus?” Lando asked, bringing in his suitcase since he was going to stay with Y/n and Charlie for a couple of days.

“We’re great. Y/n was counting down the days until you got here. She’s in the kitchen. Babe? Lando’s here.” Charlie announced as him and Lando walked towards the kitchen.

The younger driver was stunned when he saw how much Y/n had changed. It it wasn’t a bad change, it was the best change. She smiled at Lando and walked to him to give him a hug.

“You’re pregnant! That’s amazing! Oh my god, you’re going to be an actual mum!” Lando gasped. “Is this why you’ve been hiding?”

“Pretty much. I didn’t want to make my pregnancy public until the birth. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. But it’s more than okay. Baby Hunnam is healthy and growing so fast.” Y/n explained.

“I’m happy for you. Wow, you’re going to be a mum.” He said it as if he couldn’t believe it. “Congratulations to both of you. Do you know the gender yet?”

“We decided to keep it a secret until the birth.” Charlie added.

“Well I think one thing is certain. Baby Hunnam is going to have a lot of overprotective uncles when they make their paddock debut.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 driver!reader #lando norris #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #george russell #oscar piastri #logan sargeant #mick schumacher #alex albon

[captainfern]

Breed

Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Breed” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary – you and price meet up off base. you fuck lol. • rating – 18+ [mdni] • wordcount – 4.6k • warnings – fem!reader, praise kink, breeding kink [i'm being so fr it's in bold], unprotected piv, oral [f!receiving], price is a whore for you <3, strong language

(let me know if i missed any warnings! ok hope you like <3)

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

You had been off base for all of four hours.

It was supposed to be a weekend away from your colleagues and the cutthroat environment of a military job. You planned on enjoying a peaceful couple of days with the company of excessive amounts of alcohol, a spa, and that one situationship you had been dealing with for the past year.

So now, before your holiday even begun, you were already regretting even leaving.

You sat in a quaint little bar: complete with all the bells and whistles to make it seem like a 1920’s speakeasy. The light was dim, settling the room in a golden ambiance, as people conversed with each other, nursing crystal tumblers of dark liquor or caressing the thin neck of martini glasses.

You reclined into the plush leather sofa beneath you, a glass of— as the familiar bartender described it— your usual in your hand. You swirled it around your glass, watching the liquid slosh against the sides as your “situationship” rambled on about something (you had stopped paying attention five minutes ago).

“I mean, he drove to work in a Porsche and I drove a Jaguar,” Max downed the rest of his beer. “I think we both know who has the superior taste in cars, don’t we?”

“Mhm…” you hummed, taking a sip of your drink.

Max had never been the most interesting person— hell, he was actually really fucking annoying. His only redeeming quality was that you could fuck him and not feel guilty about leaving the next morning. Convenience, really.

Max peered at you over the rim of his pint glass, cocking his head to the side as he placed it back onto the table. “Something on you mind?” He asked, sounding genuinely worried.

You looked up at him, slightly startled. “Oh, no, sorry. It’s just been a long day—”

“Okay, great, now can I finish my story?”

You blinked at him as he continued, rambling on with no real punchline to his story— he was just trying to make himself seem richer. At this point, you were cringing. Embarrassing.

After a while of putting up with… whatever the hell Max was even talking about, you excused yourself. You popped to the bathroom, drawing out the process of washing your hands by a good five minutes, before reluctantly exiting the bathroom.

You collided with a wall.

Well, it wasn’t a wall. The wall was a man.

The body you crashed into immediately steadied you: two strong arms wrapping around your upper body, pressing you gently to a taut abdomen. You gasped out as the wall, smelling strongly of bergamot orange and whiskey, settled your firmly on your feet and held you within arms reach. Large hands gripped your shoulders, completely enveloping them.

You screwed your eyes shut, waiting for a drunken insult of some kind. “Shit, I am so sorry—!”

“Sergeant?”

You looked up, locking eyes with your captain. Captain John Price, the man responsable for leading your taskforce.

“Captain? I… I am so sorry.” You rambled, taking a step out of his reach and fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt. “I wasn’t looking where I was going—”

He laughed, deep and melodic. “S’all right, love. You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

“No, sir.”

“Oh, none of that crap,” he smiled, nudging you softly. “John’s fine. Or Price, if you really prefer it.”

You nodded, hiding a small smile. “Alright, Price.”

Price looked you up and down, taking in your attire and the way you had dolled yourself up. He let a small smile fall onto his lips as he leaned back against the standing-table he was situated at, elbow across it.

“Who’s got you dressed all nice, love?”

You rolled your eyes. “I was meant to be on a date, but it isn’t going well at all.”

His smile faded. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing major,” you said with a shrug. “Just an old… friend. He loves to talk about himself, and he hasn’t asked about what I’ve been up to since I got here.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“Two hours.”

Price let out a low whistle, shaking his head slowly. “Sounds like a right arsehole, that one. Why don’t you just head on home?”

“I’d feel guilty—”

“You kill people for a living, sergeant,” Price quipped, grabbing his whiskey tumbler and raising it to his lips. “I doubt you’d feel guilty about leaving this tosser.”

You watched him take a sip of his drink, licking the liquor off his lips as he placed the tumbler back down. You sighed, realising that he was probably right, before squaring your shoulders and setting a determined look on your face. Price laughed at your expression.

“I’ll tell him I’m leaving.” You said.

Price chuckled, giving you a wink. “You go do that, love.”

You left Price and crossed the bar, to where Max was sitting on the couch, smiling at his phone. He was typing fast, and didn’t even look up when you cleared your throat to get his attention, now standing just a few feet from him.

“I’m leaving,” you said simply. “Thanks for… the company, I guess.”

Max looked up, shutting his phone off and shoving it into his pocket as he got to his feet. “Are we not gonna fuck?”

The words leaving his mouth sounded horrid, and you withheld a grimace at his desperate tone. You shook your head, “No, we’re not.”

He scoffed. “So this has been a complete waste of time, then?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded as he shoved past you and vanished out the door. He left you with the bill and, not only that, but he was your ride— and you heard the unmistakable sound of his Jaguar revving it’s engine and tearing off down the street.

You blinked, dumbfounded, at the door, trying not to let the stinging of embarrassed tears fall from behind your eyes. With a frustrated sigh, you were about to head to the bar and pay when Price stopped you, walking into your path.

“Come on, love. I’ll take you home.”

You shook your head adamantly. “Price, no, I’ve gotta pay—”

“I’ll put it on my tab,” he said simply. “Now, come on. I’ll take you home since that fuckwit wants to leave a lady stranded here.”

He ushered you gently out the door, a large, warm hand on your lower back. He didn’t let you protest: he just simply guided you out into the chilly night air. His body heat was warm against your back as he led you towards his car. His smell was intoxicating. You had the sudden urge to just whirl around and rub yourself all over him, collecting his scent like a cat.

Um, what the fuck— suddenly crossed your mind.

When you both reached his car, he opened the passenger door for you and allowed you to slide into the seat, before closing it and moving to the other side, clambering into the driver seat and slotting the key into the ignition, the car rumbling to life.

Once out onto the main road, he cast you a quick glance, both hands on the wheel, running his thumbs along the seam of the wheel’s curve. “We’re you staying?”

You gave him your address, and he raised a brow. “A penthouse suite, eh? We are clearly not being paid the same.”

You laughed, warm in his car. You smelt that same scent of bergamot citrus and whiskey floating through the car. It was tainted with cigar smoke and mint. You wanted to get the smell tattooed into your fucking brain.

The drive to your flat was comfortable. You talked with Price as though he was an old friend and not your boss. He seemed to enjoy your company, too: sparing subtly glances in your direction whenever you laughed, or whenever you got particularly excited when telling him a story. His eyes twinkled.

A few minutes later, Price had pulled up outside your building, killing the engine and hopping out of the car. You went to protest, but he moved and opened your door, beckoning you outside with a small wave of his hand.

“I’ll be walking you to your door, sergeant,” Price said, almost sternly. “I’m a man of my word. I said I’d take you home, so I will.”

Ignoring the heat in your cheeks, you allowed him to gently lead you across the foyer and into the lift. You hit your floor level and as the doors closed, you suddenly became aware of how close you and Price were to one another. You could feel his body heat. You could feel the gentle brush of his chest against your back every time he breathed.

Maybe it was the small amount of alcohol coursing through your veins, but you suddenly felt hot. Like, underwear getting wet kinda hot. In the corner of the lift, you shifted your legs, pressing your thighs together as the lift travelled upwards.

No way you’re horny right now, you thought as the lift doors opened.

You were quick to depart, hurrying down the hall and reaching your door in record speed, fumbling to get the keys out of your purse. You felt Price sidle up behind you. When you finally got the door open, you pushed it and stepped into the doorway, flicking the light on before turning and looking up at Price.

“Thank you so much for bringing me home,” you said sincerely. “And I am genuinely sorry if I ruined your night.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You didn’t ruin my night. I’m always here if you need me, love.”

You bit your lip. The way he said that was way to hot for the way you were feeling right now. You could feel the flush creeping up your neck, and it seemed that Price took notice.

He cocked his head to the side, appraising you. “Are you alright, love?” He asked, reaching a hand out and placing it heavily on your arm. It was a solid form that was warm and strong and you had a sudden urge to just bite it.

What the fuck.

“Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You said. Liar.

Price raised a brow, looking at the way you squirmed under his gaze. Now, he wasn’t stupid by any means— he could read your body language like a book and it made a triumphant smile flicker across his face.

He shifted the hand on your arm and dragged it to your chin, gripping it carefully and lifting it, forcing you to look up at him.

“What do you want, love?”

You blinked at him.

He tutted. “Don’t get shy on me now, sergeant. Tell me what you want. What’s getting you all worked up, huh?” He stroked your jaw, your cheek, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “You like the way I talk to you? You like when I call you love?”

You let out a quiet whimper, nodding. He smiled down at you, leaning in as though he was about to kiss you. But he stopped, mint and whiskey laced breath fanning across your face.

“Use your words when you speak to your captain.”

You swallowed. “Yes.”

“Yes…?”

“Yes, sir.”

He hummed, pleased. “That’s a good girl.” And then pressed his mouth to yours. It was possessive— his tongue breached past your lips, plunging desperately into your mouth as you tried to keep up. You wound your arms around his broad shoulders, sliding fingers into his hair and gripping the strands. He groaned into your mouth, pushing you further into your flat without breaking the kiss.

He slammed the door shut and locked it blindly, opting to move you around and slam your body up against it. He cupped your jaw with one hand, shifting his other to run down your side, brushing over your hip and settling on your upper thigh. He squeezed it as he slid one leg between yours, jutting his knee upwards and pressing it against your clothed core.

You let out a strangled whimper, choking on the possessive nature of the kiss as Price pressed your body against his knee, using the hand at your hip to help you move against it. You stuttered on a moan, breaking the kiss to take some short breaths, the pressure on your core alleviating the building sensations.

“This what you want?” Price grinned against your jawline, placing kisses there. “You want me to make you feel good, love?”

You nodded desperately, moaning out a pathetic “yes, sir,” before he was whirling you around and guiding you deeper into your flat. He eventually found your bedroom, and pushed you onto the bed. Your back hit the silken sheets, and he wasted no time in following you; pressing his body to yours and immediately reattaching his mouth to yours hungrily.

As the two of you kissed, he gently began to pry your clothes from your body. He slipped your shirt off, making quick work in popping off your bra. He moved down, planting kisses along your chest and across the swell of your breasts. He then drew his tongue, hot, over your right nipple before taking it into his mouth. You moaned loudly, huskily, gripping at his hair as he sucked. He moved to your left one, and repeated the process until you were a whimpering, needy mess beneath him.

After a moment, he leaned back and admired the hickeys he had created over your soft skin, running calloused fingers over them.

“This okay, love?”

You nodded, reaching up and looping your fingers around his belt. “Yes, sir.” You whined, finally managing to undo the buckle on his belt.

But he stopped you, gently pushing your hands above your head before he dipped down and kissed you again. The way he licked into your mouth made you squirm, fingers flexing beneath his strong grip. He released your arms, running his hands along the bare skin and all the way past your shoulders, over your breasts and along your sides.

His eyes never left yours as he popped the button on your pants, pulling them down your legs and throwing them across the room. When the cool air of your room hit, you realised just how wet you were— favourite pair of underwear, soaked through. Your face lit up in embarrassment as you felt Price’s eyes drift down your body.

“S’all for me?” Price uttered, finger skimming the edge of your underwear. He hooked his finger beneath it and let it go with a snap against the plush fat of your thigh.

You felt hot all over when you mumbled out a “yeah.”

“Yeah?” He pulled your underwear down your legs, dragging his hands heavily along your skin alongside it. Like your pants, he flicked your underwear across the room. Then, his hands were on your thighs and in the blink of an eye, you were flipped over.

Price lay on his back, arms wrapped around your thighs. You straddled his chest, hands resting on his pecs. Your fingers brushed through his chest hair as he looked up at you, an expectant look on his face. Your stomach flipped.

“Price…” You whined.

“Sit on my face, love.”

You hesitantly shook your head. “I don’t want to hurt—”

“Come on, darling,” Price drawled, tugging you forward. “You won’t hurt me.”

You let out a stuttered sigh as your thighs rested either side of his head, and you slowly sank your aching cunt down onto his face. You huffed out a load moan when he licked a stripe up your folds, before plunging his tongue right into your dripping heat. You snatched at his head, pulling his hair as your hips shifted against him— his nose nudging your clit, his tongue drawing animalistic sounds from your mouth.

“Price—!”

“That’s a good girl,” Price uttered against your core. “Ride my face, love. Take what you need.” He had an iron grip on your thighs, helping you rock yourself against his mouth. “Such a pretty, wet cunt. Tastes so fucking good.”

You moaned at his words. Your captain speaking to you like that with his face drowning in your cunt. What the fuck—

“P-Price…” You breathed. “Gonna… gonna come.”

He moaned against your cunt— the vibrations making that coil in your stomach tighten. He squeezed your thighs, running his tongue up your folds and swirling it around your clit, repeating this action a few times.

You felt yourself drawing tight, a thin sheen of sweat gathering across your bare skin. “Price—”

“I know, darling, I know,” he said. “Come for me. Come in my mouth like a good girl, yeah?”

“Yeah, fuck, Price—!” You came with a moan of his name, gushing into his mouth as your hips stuttered against his face. You felt him groan beneath you, tongue working you through your orgasm.

After a long moment, Price re-surfaced— shifting you carefully onto your back and hovering over you. You smiled hazily at him, seeing his beard slick with you, shiny. He hummed, pressing his mouth to yours.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you, sergeant?” He said into your mouth.

You could taste yourself on his lips, his tongue. You hummed a response, too busy stroking his facial hair, feeling your own arousal sticky on your fingers.

When Price pulled back, his lips were flushed and his dark eyes glassy. His eyes scanned your face.

“Price?” Your thumb stroked his cheekbone.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” He grumbled, deep and low from his chest. “Gonna let me fill this pretty cunt?”

Your eyes widened momentarily as he shifted his gaze down your body. You arched off the bed when his hands went back to travelling down your sides. He sat back on his heels, spreading your legs as wide as they could go, warm hands on your inner thighs.

He stared at your dripping core, and you watched him harden even more in his pants.

“Such a pretty cunt, eh, darling?” Price ran two fingers along your folds, collecting a shiny mix of your arousal and his saliva. He brought his fingers to your mouth and shoved them roughly passed your lips. “Tastes fucking heavenly, too.”

You choked on his fingers, moaning. Wrapping your tongue around them, you noticed his pupils dilate even more as he watched you.

“Jesus…” He pulled his fingers out, then began tracing them along your core again. He watched his fingertips slip between your folds, and then watched the way you writhed in anticipation each time his fingers skimmed your aching hole.

“Fuck, just— Price, please—” You warbled, body hot. You could feel your arousal leaking out of you, pooling below your arse on the bedsheets.

Price laughed lowly, before sinking two fingers into your desperate cunt, right up to the knuckle. You keened, a high-pitched moan filtering between your lips at the intrusion. His digits were thick, dragging against your gummy walls, stretching you open with obscene squelching noises.

He cooed at you as he added a third finger. “Take it, darling. Such a good girl taking all three, aren’t you? This pretty cunt’s so good for me. Just for me.”

You moaned and wiggled against the bed as he pumped three fingers inside you. You felt full, satiated. Your slick was dripping down his hand, his wrist and sliding into the hairs along his forearms.

“Making such a mess, and I haven’t even given you my cock yet…” Price drawled as you fluttered around his fingers, hips bucking.

“Price, sir, need you to fuck me.”

He didn’t relent the movements of his fingers, and you felt your second orgasm building strongly within you. He tutted, clucking his tongue as he thrusted his fingers into you. “Want you to come on my fingers first. You can do that, can’t you, love? Come all over my fingers before you can come on my cock.”

You whined, forcing yourself to nod and nod and nod as your orgasm towered over you, looming like a shadow. “F-fuck, m’gonna—”

The words died on your tongue as your orgasm ripped through you, a blinding pressure released from your abdomen. A wet gush of arousal flooded beneath you, and you felt it. As you shook, legs trembling, chest heaving, you heard Price chuckling to himself as he retracted his dripping fingers.

“Such a messy girl,” he mused. “Look what you’ve done.”

You used your remaining strength to look down at where he was— his shirt splattered with your arousal, wet dripping onto his lap. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but Price prevented you from shying away. He dragged himself up your body and placed kisses as he went— ending his exploration by settling a deep kiss to your mouth.

“You gonna let me fuck you now? You deserve it, don’t you? Been such a good girl for me, letting me eat that pretty cunt.”

Such lewd words coming from your captain’s mouth— a man of such impressive status and honourability— was slightly disconcerting. However, you couldn’t find into yourself to care, nor think about the HR nightmare the two of you were in the midst of causing.

All you were focussing on was ripping open your tear-lined eyes and watching as the captain— your captain— shed himself of his dress shirt and then his pants. When he pulled down his boxers, you literally tossed your head back and moaned, much to the amusement of Price— who chuckled lowly at you, gripping his cock at the base.

“Want it that bad, darling?” He mused, leaning forward to run the head of his cock up and down your glistening folds.

“Yes, fuck—!”

“Ask nicely,” Price placed a couple of soft kisses along the underside of your jaw. “Good girl’s ask nicely, don’t they?”

You whined out some pathetic excuse for a please, lifting your arms to thread your fingers into his hair as he hovered over you. His body was heavy against you: the weight of his cock firm against the soft skin of your inner thigh.

Price lined himself up with your dripping cunt, slowly pushing in. He released a low groan from the depths of his chest as his cock slid into your tight heat, your cunt fluttering around him. You joined him, breathing out panting moans as he sunk deeper and deeper.

With one final push, Price’s cockhead was nestled up against the plug of your womb, pulsing within you. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily.

“You feel… Jesus Christ— you feel so good, love. So tight around me,” his voice had a whiny undertone. “Can I move, darling?”

You nodded, full. It’s like you could feel him in your chest.

With a deep grunt, Price dragged his cock all the way out until the wet tip of him rested at your entrance— before he pushed back in roughly. You jolted, moaning as he set a pace that you hadn’t at all been expecting. You felt the need to be stabilised, your hands groping across his shoulders, down his back, along his arms. Your hands travelled down his torso, feeling the rigid planes of muscle and wiry hair.

Price panted in your ear. “Such a— fuck— such a good girl. Being such a good girl for your captain, darling. Making me— hngh— making me so proud.”

Your stomach and cunt fluttered simultaneously at the praise, eliciting a moan from both you and Price. He was truly fucking you into your bed: the mattress creaking along with the bed frame; the cushioned headboard knocking gently against the wall. Somewhere across your apartment, your radio was playing— you’d left it on before you left for the evening— and Breed by Nirvana was playing. Fitting for the occasion, considering—

“Fuck, gonna come in this tight fucking cunt,” Price groaned. “Gonna fill you up so good. Gonna stuff you full ‘o me.”

You writhed beneath him, back arching off the bed and aching nipples brushing against his chest. You were getting close, judging by the way that familial coil was tightening in the depths of your belly. Tighter and tighter as he fucked his fat cock harder and harder into you, deeper and deeper against your cervix.

A thin sheen of sweat lay across your skin, glowing. Price didn’t care, clearly, as he peppered kisses across your chest, sucking bites onto the base of your neck as he rutted into you, hips slamming against yours. You felt one of his large, warm hands slide from your waist and across your pelvis, settling a finger on your sensitive clit.

You whined, and he shushed your gently. “Take it, darling, take it. I know you can… come on.”

Price rubbed tight circles against the bundle of nerves as he fucked you, hitting that same spot within you that had you seeing stars behind your eyelids and whimpering his name repeatedly.

It only took a couple of seconds for you to reach your peak.

“Price, m’gonna come,” you gasped, trembling and snapping your eyes open. “Please, sir—!”

He groaned, gruff and pleasure-strained. “That’s a good girl, darling. ‘Course you can come. Come all over my fucking cock and show me how much of a good girl you are for your captain.”

Yeah, that was it.

You came, for lack of better words, violently. You legs shook, knees trembling as you arched your back off the mattress. Your body pressed tight to Price’s, his cock angling deeper as he fucked you through your post-orgasmic haze. Your breaths came in pants, face flushed and clit throbbing.

Price meanwhile was nearing his peak as well. He was fucking you into your silken sheets like a scene out of some kind of porno— large hands gripping at your waist, your thighs; eyes travelling hungrily down your body to where his cock repeatedly entered your tight hole. His cock was completely slick with you, his pelvis and lower stomach splashed and glimmering with your arousal.

“Gonna fill you up so good,” Price groaned, eyelids fluttering for a moment. “Come so deep in this cunt you’ll feel me for weeks— ruin you for any other man, eh, love? That fuckwit from the bar has nothing on me.”

You didn’t even have the energy to moan like you really fucking wanted too. Everything he was saying was going straight to your aching cunt, and it was probably sending you to an early ovulation. You felt like you craved him.

Price suddenly grabbed your hand, bringing it downwards to where his cock slammed into you. He pushed your fingers around your hole so that you could feel where his fat cock entered you over and over again. You moaned at the feeling, just as Price knocked your hand aside and folded you in half— pressing your legs up against your chest. A mating press.

He was huffing now, drawing near his climax as another one built within you.

“One more time for me, love.” He said and Jesus Christ you didn’t need to be told again.

Another orgasm overtook you before you knew it was there: drowning you and leaving you gasping as you gushed around him, hands gripping the back of his neck for support. You sighed out his name, airy and exhausted, as his thrusts began to lose rhythm.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he uttered. “So good for me. Now ‘m gonna fill this cunt so good— shit— fucking breed you nice and full. Might take, eh, love? You’d love that wouldn’t you? Love being all nice and fat with my kid, and I’d fuck you whenever you wanted— hngh, Jesus— give this needy cunt my cock whenever you wanted.”

These words were coming out of your captain’s mouth… Soap is never going to believe you.

Price let out a low, almost whimper of a sound as he thrusted sloppily a couple more times. “Take it, darling, fuck. Take my come. Fucking take it like my good girl. So proud of you.”

He came with a shudder and a deep groan: warmth flooding your insides and splashing deep into your cervix— helpful thanks to the fact you could feel him in your guts.

The both of you breathed heavily in tandem until his cock softened inside you and he pulled out carefully. His come oozed out of your hole, and he shoved it back inside with two fingers.

Price cleared his throat. “I’m gonna have to do a lot of paperwork to get us out of whatever mess we’ve just put ourselves in.”

You sighed. “Let’s not talk about work when you’re knuckle deep in my pussy.”

Price stopped talking, leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

#cod mwii #captain john price #captain john price x you #captain john price x female reader #captain price #price x you #price x reader #call of duty #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #captain price smut #price smut #fem reader #captainfern #captain’snirvana

[livefastdrivefaster]

My Other Half | CL16

Pairing: Charles x Reader

Summary: When Charles accidentally scares you, leading to him anxiously taking care of you. Complete fluff.

Word count: 900 words

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

An old Porsche was sitting in your garage. You managed to get it at a great deal, mainly because the car was close to falling apart. Almost every part needed replacing or some kind of work, and you were beginning to question if you should’ve just built a car from scratch at this point. But you weren’t opposed to the idea of a project, and you had been dreaming of owning this very car since you were young, so Charles stepped in to give you the best birthday present ever.

Because of how old the car was, the suspension was completely worn out. You decided to buy the necessary replacement parts and change it out yourself. You had worked on many cars before, so you weren’t afraid of the challenge, you just really needed to get this one right because the parts were astoundingly expensive. You were underneath the car, connecting the suspension parts to the undercarriage when Charles came home to your shared apartment. 

Not finding you in the main apartment, he knew you were likely downstairs working on the Porsche. Your boyfriend always told you there were too many things about you that he loved to count, but he especially adored your passion for your arguably unique hobbies, but how amazing you were at it all too. You always blasted music through your headphones while working, so you didn’t hear Charles come down into the garage to see you. Seeing your legs peeking out from under the car, Charles smiled to himself, lowering himself to the floor to surprise you. 

At the same time, you realised you had mistakenly grabbed the wrong size wrench for the bolt you were trying to loosen, and turned your head to look for the right tool lying somewhere near you. 

You weren’t expecting to find a face an arm's length away from you. You screamed and instinctively shot up, hitting your head hard on the metal framework above you. Recognising the face as Charles, your body relaxed and you lowered yourself back to the ground, placing your hand over the part of your head that made contact with the car.

“Ah! Y/N, are you okay?” Charles called out, reaching his arm out to you. 

You could only groan in pain as the initial shock of the hit wore off. Charles slides his body underneath the car to lie next to you, petting your head sympathetically. 

“Can you move? Can I get you ice? How much does it hurt?” Charles blurted out his questions at a rapid-fire pace, and you could tell his voice was close to breaking from worry. 

“I’m okay.” You say, giving him a weak smile before rolling out from beneath the car. He follows your movements, moving quickly in his desperation to get back to being next to you. 

You sit together for a moment in silence, backs against the evil, pain-inducing Porsche. You hear Charles mumbling about ice before he jumps up from beside you. 

“I’ll get ice, my love.” He says, darting off upstairs. 

“You don’t have to, Charles, it really isn’t that bad!” You call after him. 

It was. But you didn’t want to send Charles over the edge into a nervous breakdown. You hear some commotion from the kitchen, and the almost certain thud of Charles falling down a few stairs before your boyfriend appears next to you. He crouches down next to you, steadying himself with an arm placed beside your head, and gently places the cool ice on your forehead. You flinch from the harshness of the temperature, and Charles immediately withdraws from you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’ll only sting for a moment, I promise.” He says quietly, slowly placing the ice back on your pain. You wince a little still, but forget about it all when he leans into you. The remnants of the cologne he applied this morning, mixed with the sweet smell of his post-gym skin filled your senses. You wish you could bottle his scent, and keep it in a locket around your neck forever. It was addicting, just as yours was to him. 

“Mon preux chevalier (my valiant knight).” You sighed. He smiled at you shyly, before dropping his arm beside your head to cusp your face. 

“I am no knight, I did this to you.” He says, concerned eyes darting between yours, rubbing circles into your cheek with his thumb. 

“Yeah, sneaking up on me was pretty stupid, huh?” You say, half-suppressing a cheeky smile.

“Oh,” he says slowly, catching onto your joke, “not my fault you get all jumpy around me, hm? Almost like you have a crush on me, yeah?” 

“Just a little one.” You say, giggling lightly.

His cool complexion breaks at this, unable to stop the soft laugh bursting up his chest, born from the heart you warmed with your mere presence. The moment is brief, but encompassing. Despite the years you had spent with Charles, every day felt like the first night of a young couple’s honeymoon. Giddy and loving. 

“Does it hurt still?” 

“Not at all.”

He tentatively removed the ice from your head, his green eyes glimmering in the golden light of the dying day. Slowly, ever so slowly, he encompassed your body in his own, leaning down to place the most gentle of kisses on your hairline. 

“Ma moitié” 

(My other half)

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #ferrari f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles x reader #leclerc #leclerc x reader #cl16 imagine #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc imagine

[angsthology]

“i am on work trip vacation” — or an alt title: what happens when a group of f1 drivers go on a getaway together

a houseboat sounds like a great idea! ...right?

a/n HELLAUR this was mostly inspired by that one mofy episode “lake life” which to me is very underrated i love that episode SO much. anyway here it is it kinda ended up not how i wanted it to be in the first place but oh well :)

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD

to be perfectly honest, no one really remembered whose idea it was for them to do this. theoretically, it did sound like a good idea until someone else had the amazing idea:

“what if we rented a houseboat… for all of us…”

the group blinked at the suggestion.

roo, who had been standing next to lando mumbled to him lowly, “are we that close?”

the question made the two turns to each other for eye contact, when their eyes met, lando shrugged.

their attentions were brought away when max spoke up from his seat.

“yeah, but who is paying?”

the group turned to look at each other before agreeing through eye contact and all turn to the dutch driver.

“what? why? this isn’t even my idea!”

“yeah, but…” the group turned to the first porsche driver, “you keep winning…”

he threw his hands in the air, “what?! what does that have to do with anything?”

“you make the most money…” lando answered for her, the words slowly forming in his mouth, “you bought a whole aircraft, a boat won’t hurt your wallet.”

in response, he got a look from the redbull driver.

the woman next to him walked forward, “how about this; you’ve ruled the land, the asphalt if you must; you’ve also had your reign in the air, isn’t it time for you to have something to dominate the seas…?” she carefully propositioned, eyes searching the unreadable dutch looking for any sort of answer.

until eventually, his eyes lit up looking her way, “you’re a genius!” he exclaimed.

“i know, thanks.” she smugly smiled at his reaction.

shortly after, the man speedily walked off somewhere else leaving her with the rest of the grid.

she huffed with a smile playing at her lips, “men are so easy.”

fast forward to where they are now; lando trying to figure out the concept of charles’ attempt at eggs, the latter suspected to be on some kind of edible (currently being silently investigated by george and alex), lance passed out on the couch in an interesting position with his blanket over his face to shield it from the sun, the rest out on deck or still asleep in their rooms.

just as lando did another poke of his… egg? roo walked down the steps from where all the rooms were, eyes still lidded with sleep, hands stretching with a yawn.

“mornin’.” she greeted, the rest present in the room strung along good mornings as such.

walking over to the smell of burning, she felt the ground tilt to the side, making her lose her balance following where the dip goes. the rest in the room too fully woke up at the tilt—a large horn following. lance, emerging from his blanket and sitting half up grumpily, lando quickly grabbing his plate of eggs to stop it from falling off the counter (though, he regretted doing so, he would much rather the eggs get eaten by the floor rather himself.)

the aston martin driver on the couch then snatched the walkie-talkie on the coffee table next to him and barked into it, “VERSTAPPEN!”

max, happily conducting in his captain’s deck, apologized through the walkie sheepishly, “ehe—sorry.”

from out on the deck, came the sound of the french, “honey, slow down, you are waking up the kids.” just as he put the walkie-talkie back on the table next to him, pierre heard the response coming from the same channel,

“gasly, i will throw you overboard.”

just as he grumbled that, the second haas driver stumbled down the stairs, face still a little sleepy (naturally).

“someone’s grumpy this morning.” he commented before taking a seat next to alex on the dining table behind the counter where lando hastily stared at a piece of his egg.

“fuck off.” he grumbled before covering his face with his blanket once more.

george, sat across of mick, stared at his co-worker still drifting off on the table, “‘horn wake you?”

“no, radio.” he mumbled.

the girl finally went back to walking over to the ferrari driver in the kitchen.

“what’s cookin’, mcqueen?” she greeted.

he looked back to her smiling then continuing his focus on the pan, “eggs!”

the woman looked towards the brit with a plate on the counter, raising her brows for confirmation. in response, he frowned with his eyes closed, shaking his head.

at that, she walked over to the fridge and grabbed the carton of orange juice, pouring it into a cup before walking over to where lando sat and hauled herself up into the stool.

“here goes nothing.” she heard the whisper from the side, looking over to see lando carefully putting the piece of egg in his mouth with his eyes closed.

she cringed when she heard a crunch coming from his bite.

“i think that was a shell…” he cried.

the girl beside him frowned and pat his back just as carlos walked down the stairs, behind him two large dogs followed.

she gasped at the sight, “good morning, babies,” she greeted sweetly, crouching down to pet the two dogs.

passing by, carlos smiled, “good morning, sweetheart.”

roo gave him a side-eye as he passed, snickering, she said, “sure.” her expression then turning to one of adoration when she pat her dogs once more.

her attention moved when charles greeted his teammate, “good morning, calos, how do you take your eggs?”

“like god made them,” he said before cracking an egg and pouring them straight into his mouth.

everyone turned to him in shock and disgust, roo herself shrieked at the sight.

“what the hell is wrong with you?!” she yelped in disgust.

charles, face straight, “oh, right, i forgot about that.”

from the dining table, george questioned, “you do that every day? i just do it when i have a nasty hangover…”

carlos looked at him and paused, nodding before answering, “yes.”

roo then laughed smugly into her glass.

“what are you laughin’ at sally?” asked the spaniard.

“i don’t get hangovers.” she bragged, hand reaching over to the bowl of fruit in front of her. her smug face dropped when she held the too-light banana, “what the fuck? are these fucking plastic?!”

charles then turn around and grimaced seeing the look on her face, “oh, yeah, forgot to tell you.” he the paused, contemplating on what he says next, “if you see a bite mark on the apple… no you don’t.”

george then intruded, “wait, wait. i want to go back to how you don’t get hangovers…”

“yeah—how does that even work?” alex asked next.

she shrugged, “well… how it works is that… i don’t drink. —besides champagne that is,” she added with a smile.

“wait what—”

she clapped her hands together, “conversation’s over, i’m going to take my kids for a walk—lando, stop trying to feed them your eggs they only eat things that are edible.”

the ‘cook’ turned around fully offended, “hey!”

“so…”

“please don’t try to make conversation. it’s bad enough you’re here.” again, it wasn’t like she was trying to be rude, but it often came out like that. —she really did hope lando didn’t take it like that.

he scoffed, “oh, come off it, you love me.” he said, while throwing a hand over her shoulder.

the four—lando, roo, bennie, and jet, that is—were currently wandering around the island their boat had docked to. so far on their walk there hasn’t been anything interesting in the island besides the occasional inhabitants of the island (ones that are only visible to the woman anyway).

suddenly, lando let go of her shoulder and went to check his pockets, “oh, right, that reminds me; these has been weighing my pants—”

her attention unmoving, she cut him off, “that or you need a belt.”

he rolled his eyes and continued, “whatever, can you hold this in your pocket.”

finally, that brought her out of her trance, “oh wait—”

she turned around to warn him but it was too late, lando had dropped the item in the pocket hole of her pants only to see it fall to the ground instead.

“wait what—” he grabbed the item off the floor and tried to put it back in her pocket, seeing if he had missed it before only to see it fall to the ground through it again. “what the hell?” without warning, lando put his hand in her pocket all the way through and low and behold; his hand had went through it and peaked out of the bottom of her pants.

he stared at her in confusion.

“yeah, i was going to tell you: my pockets have holes in them.”

“well, no shit, i can fit my entire hand through this—hell, i can even fit both.” he asserted almost going high-pitched. his eyes then changed, visibly remembering a detail she mentioned, “wait—pockets? as in both?”

she rolled her eyes, “yes, drama queen. now can you get your hand out of my pants, do you know how weird this looks?”

“oh, yeah, to who? the wind?” he stated sarcastically as he pulled his hand out of her pocket—if it can still be called that.

the girl was about to answer but her eyes caught something that made her eyes almost pop out of their socket. her hand immediately takes a hold of lando’s upper arm.

“ow!”

ignoring his complains, her eyes still trained on whatever it is she saw and started pulling on his arm.

the brit was still busy complaining on how hard her hand’s grip on his arm was to look up but he still managed to answer, “what?!”

“i think—i think we should uh—go back to shore, y’know, it’s almost lunch, they could be looking for us.”

“no it’s not, it’s only like—” he checks his watch, “—eleven am.” he continues to complain.

but when he couldn’t feel as much pain as before he looked up to see his friend already gone along with the two dogs. he threw his hands in the air, “wha— damn it, roo!”

when he made it back to the beach, she was nowhere to be found, instead he was met with the rottie instead, “oh, hey, bennie, where’s your mum, huh?” he crouched down to give the dog a scratch behind his ear, bennie barked in response.

he—the dog—then turned around and walked over to the side where a white and minty-green volleyball laid, piquing an interest from lando.

when he walked over and grabbed the ball, he heard a call from the other side of the beach.

“oi! you wanna join us for a game?” danny yelled with his hands cupped around his mouth.

without another thought, lando stood up and ran over to the group and joined them. surprisingly enough when he looked to his left, there his friend stood after ditching him in the woods.

he threw his hands in the air when he saw her, “here you are! what the hell was that earlier?”

opting for the easy way out, she replied, “saw something you can’t, you don’t want to know.”

lando—who she knew would steer clear of any further topics involving her abilities—accepted the answer quickly and went back to focusing on the upcoming game.

“so, what’s the game here?” asked the brit.

“it was gonna be two on two but since you’re here i guess, three it is. whose team do you want to be in?”

lando then mulled over his options, go with daniel and mick against roo and zhou or… the other way around. then he remembered just how strong the girl was—he got flashbacks from various sports he had played against her and ones he saw her play, he wasn’t risking it.

“i think i’m gonna stay here, what about you, though? you need one more player?”

the australian looked around until his eyes landed on the rottweiler, a grin made its way to his face, “bennie! c’mere boy!”

when the rottie obliged, roo’s jaw dropped in betrayal.

“first mick! now you too? betrayed by my own boys…”

the german shrugged.

after that, the game went on for a good few minutes. along the lines of those minutes the following had happened;

“what the hell, dan?!”

said man had done an overhand serve with the ball, accidentally aiming it straight where the woman was hitting her upper chest—luckily enough she had managed to save it. but, still, she was a little bit offended.

he couldn’t help but laugh at his own actions—which he swore he didn’t mean to do.

still laughing (all the while the game was still going on), he continues to apologize through it, “i am so sorry karen smith, i swear, it was an accident.”

after that little incident, the girl made it her number one mission to find the right timing for payback.

when she did, she gave it her all into passing that ball hitting it towards the australian’s lower region.

unfortunately for her and luckily for him, he dodged just in time letting it hit the sand instead—unfortunately giving her team a point.

daniel and mick’s eyes were still trained where the ball had landed, seeing how harshly it hit the ground—daniel looked at it more with relief than he’d like to admit.

he turned around from the ball to look at her with ‘offense’, “dude!” he threw his hands up.

without wasting another breath, she pointed at him threateningly, “you hit my boobs! —i target you.”

in return, daniel raised both his hands in surrender and walked backwards to grab the ball and resume the game.

an hour or two later the game finished with daniel and mick on the losing team, leaving the other three in a high.

after high fiving both her teammates, the girl embraced the two men in purpose of gloating, she made sure to say audibly, “so, how did it feel like scoring your first win, boys?” she asked the two, though her eyes stayed on the two opposing teammates.

zhou smiled happily, seemingly glad that he could just participate at all, “feels pretty good, i must say.”

although lando wasn’t quite impressed by her question, “man, shut the fuck up.” he said, slipping out of her embrace to make his way over to the dock with the other five following behind.

“that’s not fair, you play aggressive.” daniel complained half-jokingly.

she was taken aback, “no i wasn’t, are you sure?”

knowing her, he knew her words were genuine(ly confused).

he wrapped his hand and smiled down at her cheekily, muttering lowly, “you don’t know your own strength.”

when they arrived on the boat, the first thing she saw the moment she stepped on the last step up was pierre, still calmly perched on his sun lounger with only his sunglasses protecting him.

the girl stared at him with questioning eyes, “have you moved? like, at all?”

“non.”

she all but shrugged, leaving him to burn under the sun.

when she entered the kitchen slash dining room slash living room, she was greeted with the hypnotizing smell of the food that filled the table—well, what was left of the food.

just as she was walking around said table, she heard the tapping of paws against the wooden floor and before she knew it, she was tackled by the doberman happily greeting her.

“hey, sweetheart, where have you been?” she scratched the dog’s head happily accepting her affection then suddenly being approached by a smaller collie she weren’t too familiar with, “and you… brought a friend?” she carefully stretched her hand out to pet the mystery puppy, “and who do you belong to buddy?”

“mine, actually.” the blonde thai entered the room with a water bottle in his hand. “his name’s otter, or, otto.”

“awh,” she pouted at the information before looking down at the puppy once again, “i love you.” she unhesitatingly hugs the puppy who then wags his tail with even more energy.

alex was about to comment but she beat him to it, “hey, what happened to everyone?”

“uhh—i think esteban took lance out on a boat,”

“i didn’t know ocon was capable of that.”

“not every two-people getaway is in the purpose of murder.”

“sure, tell yourself that.”

“whatever; charles is terrorizing yuki somewhere and carlos went to the bait shop in the island with george.”

“bait shop? is that a bar? there’s a bar here?”

“no– just a normal bait shop… for… fishing… you do know?”

“yes.”

“oh, hey, that reminds me; i’ve been meaning to ask, why didn’t fernando agree to this, again? i would assume he would jump at the chance at the first mention of lake.”

the alpine driver was currently calmly lounging on his chair doing whatever it is people his age does when suddenly two of the younger drivers on the grid appeared behind him.

he paused whatever he was doing when he felt the presence of two demons giggling behind him, he turned around quickly with a flat expression.

“what do you two want?”

they only giggled when he look at them dead in the eyes, earning raised brows expectantly from him.

the man heard whispers of “you say it”, “no you say it” bounced back and forth from the two.

“just say it.” he ordered the moment they got on his last nerve. (well, they were already on his last nerve the moment they arrived but now it was in the negatives.)

the british of the two decided to be the one to start, “we just wondered why… how—”

“we were just wondering why you haven’t turned to dust under the sun.” she cut him off.

now giggling again, lando continued, “it’s just we’re worried, this lake trip is going to have a lot of sun exposure.”

“we still like you, nan.” she finished, both of them continuing their giggling spree.

“you know what, that’s it.” he stood up from his chair, no longer feeling the relaxing peace and quiet he did before, “just like that, i’m not going. you kids are driving me crazy and i need this break.”

their faces dropped at the sudden ‘outburst’, both of them scurrying behind him to beg and plead for his mercy.

“uhh—he already had other plans.” she paused, then looking over him, “and what are you doing here?”

“trying to find a frisbee for the three of us.”

she tilted her head in question.

“me, otto, and… jet.”

“oh. alright, go nuts.” she then stands up from the ground, popping her head out the window that goes out to the deck, “mick, lan, dan, zhou, any of you eaten anything yet?”

she got a chorus of no’s and not yet’s in response.

“i—you are seeing this, correct?”

“looking at the same thing as you are.”

after a good lunch break with the four men, they all had went their separate ways to spend the afternoon and after a lot of exploring, roo found her way back to the deck where the alphatauri driver is still lounging. though now he is fast asleep, —and sunburnt.

she didn’t say anything else opting for nodding her head and slowly moving to the sun lounger beside her—vision directly facing the burnt french.

seeing as she was no longer standing next to him, he crouched down, “what are you thinking about, cariño?”

she shrugged, “nothing… just going to relax here.”

safe to say he did not trust her answer, he squinted as he stood back up.

the spaniard crossed his arms, “can i trust you…”

at that, the woman looks up craning her neck, she then pulls down her sunglasses to bat her eyelashes at him with a sweet smile.

he couldn’t help but reciprocate her energy. with one last smile, he turned around, and by chance he was met with lance who were just passing by. he grabbed the aston martin driver and whispered warningly—all the ‘sweetness’ from his previous encounter dropped, “that is a smile of a con-woman. do not trust her, watch her.”

before lance could even react, carlos was already long gone.

something bad had happened. he left for ten good minutes and he already heard the french-accented sound of agony coming from the deck.

next thing he knew, he was already there with the rest of the drivers all crowded there too to witness what just happened—arriving just in time for the sound of splashing on the side of the boat could be heard.

roo was already there with her hands on the side of the boat, looking down at the man overboard.

all the drivers followed where she was and where her eyes were brightly looking at with a cackle, squished together to all stand along the boat railings to see the emerging alphatauri driver from under the waters.

the girl, still laughing her ass off was getting cursed out in french, even hearing her full name coming out of her mouth.

carlos immediately snapped his head towards her direction, “what did you do?!”

she was still far too busy laughing, leaving the frenchman to answer angrily for her, “espèce de connard!” he cursed at her, “she fucking slapped my sunburn!”

that statement itself had made lando spilt a single cackle, zhou and mick covering their mouth in self-control after imagining pierre’s words.

said man give the three a large glare that didn’t really change their state.

the spaniard then turned to lance with eyes wide, “i told you to watch her!”

“i’m not her babysitter!” he defended, “—lando is! i gave him a fifty-dollar bill to do it!” he continued his defense. (which quite frankly didn’t help him much.)

“so you gave a child a job to watch another child?!” carlos fumed.

“i— well you got me there.” the canadian shrugged and let go of it.

lando, hearing his name, quickly chimed in with offense lacing his tone, “hey! in my defense; i handed the job over to charles!”

everyone then turned to the resident monégasque. he threw his hands in defense, when he spoke his tone a lot less defense-y more reasoning, “what? i am on vacation, i’m not babysitting!”

of all this happening, they all failed to notice the angry frenchman emerging from the stairs—skin red and dripping with lake water.

his wet steps walked slowly towards the culprit—the war criminal in a diy ripped clothing, “count your days.” he threatened lowly, accent thicker than usual, before walking inside the houseboat funnily, body still aching from his ‘little’ predicament.

te1enoviyuh 🎵 Pitbull, Marc Anthony • Rain Over Me (feat. Marc Anthony)

liked by awstenknight, f1, and 6,835,736 others

tagged: carlossainz55

te1enoviyuh D.O.G. — drivers only getaway

two notes for this one:

pierregasly i am... sorry, truly

@ all of u, youve all behaved accordingly so i gift u this picture he took when my phone went missing apparently

see all 2,836 comments.

selvnika oh this gave me a whiplash actually

dunphyrrari selvnika ure so right for this queen

thesainzist HELLO

thesainzist GOOD MORNINGGG SAILOR

thesainzist i thank u for ur service u are a god 🙏🏼

pierregasly die

siriuslyricciardo pierregasly NAHH I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED ON THAT BOAT

backbiteroo pierregasly tea is BOILING

te1enoviyuh backbiteroo his skin actually

pierregasly te1enoviyuh PÉRIR

mclarenovia watch them be super cryptic about this whole getaway

sixteenparx awsten at the scene of the crime once again 📸

awstenknight sixteenparx CAN YOU JUST LET ME LIVE

sixteenparx awstenknight no

aepsainz YARG

aepsainz on behalf of chillination we thank you and owe you for your service we will never forget this 💪🏿

sebastianvettel Have fun!

liked by te1enoviyuh

taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra lemme know if u wanna be added &lt;3

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x female reader #f1 smau #formula 1 smau #formula one smau #formula 1 x oc #tine’s roo vs the world #lando norris x reader #pierre gasly x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lance stroll x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #charles leclerc x reader #george russel x reader #alex albon x reader

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

omg hihihi!!! im obsessed with the fic you wrote for niki and james and i was wondering if you could write one for ayrton senna? maybe with the reader being his teammate and its their first season and just him falling in love with her? idk tbh. its criminal that theres so little fics of him im obsessed with him currently xx

old money — AS27 x reader

cw: car crash

note: fr there are no fics about him and he’s one of the most handsome men i’ve ever seen. also i love old f1 vibes

masterlist

When you first met him, you immediately noticed how oddly he was looking at you. You couldn’t get whatever he was thinking, so you just assumed he didn’t like you. For a time. Then one day something changed.

You crashed in Imola. You got out of the car without even a scratch, but the faces of the people when you returned to the paddock with the ambulance made you guess it mustn’t have looked good from the screens.

And there he was. Despite the very few words you exchanged since you knew each other, rushing towards you, none other than the best driver on the grid, your rival and teammate Ayrton Senna.

Brown eyes filled with worry and hair still soaked in sweat, he called your name and took your arms in his hands. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I– I think I’m okay. I just got scared.” You didn’t know why you were telling your feelings to him, you just didn’t think much about it.

“Me too.” For a moment you thought he was gonna pull you in a hug, but he didn’t. He just softly put a hand on you cheek and then let go of you. “Glad to know you’re well, pequena.”

You found Ayrton standing in front of his Porsche Cabriolet at the end of the day. It was getting dark, few people were still in the paddock to celebrate his victory.

You hurried to reach him before he left. “Ayrton.” He turned around, but you know he was already looking at you from afar. He clearly had a shower because he smelled fresh and the red overalls had given way to a white elegant shirt. “I wanted to congratulate. Also, thank you for worrying about me earlier, you kind of reassured me.”

“No need to thank me.” He made a pause. You wondered if it was time for you to go. “You know, I was going to dinner with a friend but he won’t be able to come. Would you like to join? I have a reservation for two.”

You stared at him, surprised by the invitation, then looked down at your own jeans and blouse outfit. “I don’t know if I’m suited for the situation.”

“You are.” He opened the front seat door for you. “Let’s go.”

The restaurant was a villa in the Emilian countryside. You had never seen such a beautiful place in your entire life.

The dinner went very well. You ate pasta on a table in the garden. There were warm lights that made the location very cozy. Ayrton was so sweet, very different from the fierce man everybody saw on track. You talked about the race, but not only. You learned more about his personal life and viceversa. He asked if you were seeing someone, you shook your head. “And you?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

You thought of the gorgeous girls he was often photographed with. You didn’t believe yourself to be that pretty.

“I’m sorry if I’m not very talkative between one race and the other, I’m just trying to stay professional.” His freckles were as glaring as ever in that light. After his words, you realized you may have misinterpreted his detachment. “But when you crashed today… I don’t know, it seemed dangerous from my point of view. The thought of not seeing you next to me anymore scared me a lot.”

Spelling those words, Ayrton was playing with the glass of water in his hand, his eyes shyly looking downwards. “So I wondered if you’d like to hang out. Outside of work, I mean.”

In his own words, that was a declaration.

“I–“ That was what you wanted since you saw him introducing himself in that conference room, however you knew how risky the situation you were putting yourself into was. But right there, looking up at you with those eyes full of hope, surrounded by that magical place, he was so handsome. “I’d love to.”

#ayrton senna #ayrton senna x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #formula 1 #f1

[suivyfx]

So you heard everything?

Mirage x f!reader

you were a bit of a mechanic, and whenever noah’s car got wrecked you’d usually help him fix it up, until you find out it’s an..Alien car thing??

includes ✧ fluff, slight x Noah

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“Jeez, Noah. This car is a beauty for sure but maybe you shouldn’t get such an old car.” You rolled out from under the car with a wrench in your hand. “Haha..maybe I should do my research next time.”

You and Noah had known each other for around two years and were pretty close friends. He had recently bought a Porsche, silver with blue stripes down the middle. Of course you were happy for him, he even took you on joyrides! It’s just that you hadn’t expected him to be able to..afford it? Not saying that’s he’s poor but Porsches are mad expensive, you chose to mind your business though.

After you finish up, your phone starts to ring. “Sorry Noah, gotta take this.” Once you exit the garage, his gaze immediately fixates on the car. “Cmon! Can’t we just tell her already? You torture me every time I have to stay quiet during our joyrides!” Mirage whined. “I just don’t wanna scare her, Mirage. I mean your a giant machine!” Hearing this, Mirage gasped. “Giant Machine?! We’ve been through thick and thin and that’s what you call me? Besides, didn’t you try to beat me with a pipe when you first met me? Sure she’ll be freaked but someones there to reassure her this time, cough cough, you.” Even though they were currently communicating through the radio, you could still hear the sass in Mirages voice.

Noah thought about it, and he couldn’t deny that Mirage was right. Besides you would find out sooner or later anyway. “Fine, let’s wait for her to get back.” Hearing this, Mirage cheered. “Woohoo! I can’t wait!”

.

.

“I’m back, sorry that took a while.” You smiled as you came back in the garage. Noah looked a little timid so you asked him if he was alright. “Yeah, yeah I am. I just uh- need to show you something. Please don’t freak out too much..” Hearing him say this made you nervous. Noah barely acted like this, so he might be very serious. And ‘please don’t freak out?’ What the hell was this man about to show you?

As you were looking at Noah, you began to hear shifting noises from the Porsche. Once you looked over, you saw a machine guy. Wait wtf? “What the fuck..” Eyes widened, jaw almost on the floor..what were you looking at right now? You subconsciously began to back up. “Listen I know he looks like a bad guy but trust me, he means no harm!” “Bad guy?! What’s up what all these names you’ve been calling me man? Not cool dude, not cool.”

The both of them looked at you, who was still visibly shaken. In attempt to befriend you, Mirage walked up to you and kneeled to your level. “The names Mirage, I already know who you are.” He smiled. You were pretty scared at first, but after seeing his friendly attitude you loosened up a little. “Okay..yeah, I’m Y/n.” Mirage grinned and patted your head as he stood.

“See? That went great! You were worried about nothin’!” Mirage looked at Noah who had a relieved look on his face. “Wait a minute, if you’re the car does that mean..you heard, everything I said?” You asked, praying the answer was no. “Yup!” fuck. “Humans have the most interesting stories.” You glare at Noah, him just smiling looking in the other direction knowingly.

Before you could scold Noah, you begin to hear that same shifting noising. You look in amazement finally being able to see Mirages transformation. “Now that I can talk, what’d you say we go on a joyride? The three of us? You can sing your heart out just like you always do.” Noah walks up to passenger side and opens the door for you, gesturing you to get in. “M’lady?” He teased, knowing you were embarrassed. “I’m so gonna kill you for this, Noah.”

.

.

“I think I’m gonna vomit..what part of that was a ‘joyride’ to you?!” You say, wobbling out of the car. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, trust me.” Noah said, glaring at Mirage. “What can I say? I gotta go fast! Haha, get it? Cause it’s what Sonic says?” Mirage joked, resulting in no laughter “Anyways im going to get some food, want me to bring you back some, Y/n?” Noah asked heading towards the door. “Ah, sure.”

Once Noah left it was just you and Mirage. “Well well well, just the two of us sweetheart! Y’know I don’t think we got to properly get to know each other, so why don’t we talk a bit about ourselves, yeah?” Blushing a bit at the name, you agreed. “Sure, why not?”

.

.

About an hour past and you realize how much you enjoy talking to Mirage. He’s so enticing, nothing like the last men you’ve been with, literally. “You listenin?” Mirage asked, noticing your daze. “Oh, uhm, yes sorry, what did you say?” After a few seconds of silence, Mirage chuckled. “Ohh, I get it. You were so mesmerized by my dashing looks, huh? I knew you’d fall for me.” Your eyes widened, face heated. “What?! D-don’t get cocky..”

Mirage moved closer to you and lifted your chin with a single finger. “Cmon..just admit it. I have an affect on you.” His optics bored into your orbs. “…fuck it.” You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He was kinda surprised, but quickly reciprocated. Mirages lips were like nothing you’ve kissed before, so smooth yet metallic, nonetheless very pleasing.

After a few seconds you two pulled apart, an immediate smirk plastering his face. “I guess Love at first sight really is real, huh?” You smiled up at him and leaned closer. “I guess so, wanna prove it?” And with that you both locked lips once again, a new relationship emerging.

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i hate this. i might make a smut with mirage

#mirage x reader #rotb mirage #rotb x reader #noah diaz #noah diaz x reader

[igotanidea]

Lesson one - Xbox and helmet

(Dick Grayson x reader)

Summary/request: Dick teaching reader how to drive (or how to not drive XD )

***

“Oh come on! You let Kori drive your car!”

“That’s not the word I would use since she stole-“

„tomayto, tomahto!”

„Y/N…”

„Do not Y/N me! She did drive your car!”

“Well sorry to break it to you sunshine but-“

“Do not say that!”

“Kori actually knows how to drive”

“Richard John Grayson!!”

“What?! It’s true! She can!”

“And I’m your girlfriend!”

“So what, that’s an argument for everything now?”

“YES!!”

“Y/N….”

She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest, turning back to him. If the most important argument of being in a relationship did not work on him, Y/N was more than ready to give him cold shoulder, quiet days and ignorance just to get her way. Maybe it wasn’t mature but this method proved to be effective in the past, cause her beloved Dickie could not go without her hugs and kisses for more then couple hours.

“Come on, sunshine, do not get all moody. You know I hate it when you’re mad at me…” he whispered moving closer and wrapping arms around her from behind, nuzzling into her hair and neck, planting a little kiss on her cheek.

“I’m not mad at you…” she muttered leaning on his chest, enjoying the comfort his embrace brought her. “I’m mad at myself…..” her exasperated sigh was quite a surprise given the fact she was not so open lately.

“At yourself? Why?” Dick spun her around in his arms, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead, observing her with the intensity that was supposed to read her mind.  

“Cause I’m way behind….”

“Way behind? I don’t—Oh….” The realization dawned on him.

“Yeah… exactly….”

“Sunshine, there’s nothing wrong with-“

“Guilt, intrusive thoughts, frustration, fear-“

“What?” he frowned in confusion of the nouns coming out her mouth, not making any sense.

“That’s everything that’s wrong with not getting a driver’s license in time.”

“And terrorizing your boyfriend to drive his arm and leg expensive porsche. I’d rather have you on the passenger seat where you're able to give me that little kisses of yours while driving”. he grinned and she rolled her eyes. “Ok, you know, how about we take it down a notch. There’s no need to go fast and furious on the first lesson. We can use that old ford for now, how about that?”

“You kidding me now? It’s not even about me, but I can’t imagine you getting inside the car that’s lower than S class.”

“Yeah, see how much sacrifice I make for you?”

***

It was almost impossible to focus on the gears and pedals and steering wheel and all the rules and road signs, while having Dick on the passenger seat.

Generally speaking, in any other circumstances, it wouldn’t even be funny, rather pressuring, but seeing him barely fitting in the little space, with knees right below his chin, folded in a way only an acrobat could, but one that definitely wasn’t comfortable….?

Hilarious.

And dangerously distracting.

Which became obviously obvious to both of them when Y/N almost took a wrong turn and hit the highroad.

“NO!” Dick yelled lunging at the steering wheel miraculously saving them from a dumb death under the wheels of a truck, but not from the loud sound of horn and lavatorial gesture send their way. “Y/N! What the-? Don’t close your eyes, you’re the driver for God’s sake! Y/N!”

“Sorry!” she squealed letting go off the wheel completely losing her cool.

“If I’m dying I want to go down in some spectacular way not in a car accident!”

“I’m sorry!” she squealed again. “Not my fault you’re a bad instructor!”

Dick perked up his ears, send her a terrifyingly teasing smirk and made a few sharp turns and twist, in a absolutely not-showing off way, getting them back to the parking lot where they started lesson one.

Falling back on his seat with a self-satisfaction expression, brushing one hand over the other, waiting for her reaction.

He didn’t expect the silence.

“Y/N…?” with a  few more acrobatic twist he turned to look at her face.

“I’m fine—” she stuttered, despite the pale face and widened eyes that actually brought some guilt into him.

“Hey…” he squeezed her hand in a reassuring gesture “I think your first lesson turned to be quite successful. We both survived.”

“Thanks to your instincts, not my skills.”

“Well-“ Dick searched for the right words “at least you know that as long as I’m with you, you can always feel safe. Which obviously makes me the best instructor you could ever wish for, right?” he pecked her lips quickly before leaving the car, circling it and opening the door for her, offering a hand like a real gentleman.”

“What are you doing, Dick?” Y/N unfastened her seatbelt putting both feet on the ground “I can leave this diabolical invention by myself.”

“Sure. But imagine- after having done your license – pulling out in a fancy car at one of Bruce’s party, dressed in an expensive, exclusive dress, all eyes on you as your handsome boyfriend escort you to the door. I’m only giving you a foretaste of the feeling.”

“On the empty parking lot in a shabby ten year old ford?!”

“Precisely. You need to anchor in that image to help you motivate. We’ll build from it. I promise to help you, ok?”

“Cause you want to keep an eye on me or the other road traffic participants?”

“It would be a bit embarrassing if I had to detain my own girlfriend for a road offence, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not a police officer!”

“I’m a detective, it’s pretty much the same, besides if I see someone drive in a zigzag pattern, raising some suspicions about the driver's condition –“ Dick shrugged innocently pulling her to her feet and holding close to his chest “it’s my civilian duty to prevent any harm from happening.”

“Civilian duty?”

“Yeah, that’s why on your second lesson we’ll be doing theory rather than practice. I’ll even buy that fancy expensive Xbox F1 simulator I had my eyes on for a while….” His eyes became a little blurry and voice drifted off “but it’s all just for learning purposes. All for you. Not for me, I’m selfless!”

“Of course you are Dickie.” She chuckled “absolutely selfless “but if you’re investing in my knowledge in the form a console game, I’ll invest in your safety and purchase a helmet just for you.”

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff

[schumigrace]

My life will, quite literally, never be the same.

I moved to the motorsport county for a multitude of reasons, but having Silverstone on my doorstep was at the top of the list.

The mileage counter in my beaten-up racing green Vauxhall has racked up most of it's digits on the A43 through Towcester, I can tell you the exact position of every road sign painted with a brown rectangle, a chequered flag next to the word "Silverstone". I could tell you which direction the track is in from anywhere in the world, as if it's Wing shaped roof hangs like a petrol-laden North Star. All roads lead to Silverstone, you may say (no-one has ever said this)

So, Grace, I hear you asking, how often do you go?

Never.

That is, of course, until I received an email from God herself (the Aston Martin F1 Team Marketing Analyst) informing me of my invitation to their AMR24 Launch. An invitation I very obviously accepted, after 24 hours worth of crying, screaming, and stalking said marketing analyst on LinkedIn to make sure this was not in fact some messed up kind of joke

So it's 7 in the morning, I'm doing my usual commute through the god-awful traffic hell that is Northamptonshire, only this time I'm not going straight ahead on the Silverstone Bypass, I am taking the ever elusive right turn into the brand new Aston Martin Technology Centre and being handed a visitor's pass

The first thing I notice is that they've only gone and put a bloody AMR23 (with the new livery) right in the middle of the lobby, it's covered up at this point, and I'm staring daggers through the cover just daring it to be riddled with carbon fibre underneath. AMR team members are floating around like green angels everywhere I look, shelves are adorned with this past year's trophies (I make a comment to a passing team member - "you'll need more shelves after this year", she chuckles and moves on - I try not to take this is a bad sign)

8 o'clock hits, the official launch video plays, and the cover is removed. jesus fucking christ she's green. thank fuck. I can go home now.

Oh, hang on, is that Mike Krack?

Shit it is.

Mike has a shakedown to run of course, so he doesn't hang around for too long. He's confident in this car though, they've been working on it for years, and he's sure we'll be quick out of the gate. Off he goes across the road to the garage. "Don't worry," they say, "you'll be going over to watch the cars on track too."

Sorry, can you repeat that please, I believe you just said we are going to go over to the track to watch the cars.

"Yes of course, but not before we ply you with cake and coffee, naturally, oh and also Pedro De La Rosa is here along with Jessica Hawkins. Do you want to chat to them?"

I ask Pedro where he and Fernando went to dinner last night. Somewhere in Oxford I think, I stopped listening, I was thinking about how much I would be willing to be a thir-

Anyway.

At this point no photos are allowed for the rest of the day, they are literally building the car right in front of you no you cannot put that on social media.

We're heading across the road now, along the Hamilton straight and up around Stowe, we head past the Porsche Experian Centre and I make some vague comment about Webbonso that nobody picks up on. Nevermind. We turn left just before Maggots and Becketts to head towards the pit lane, and into the Aston Martin garage.

The smell of petrol is so overwhelmingly strong and I make sure every single cell of my lungs is scarred from it. A batak machine is being set up and I joke "wouldn't it be funny if someone beat Jenson Button's world record today". Someone did, not even 5 minutes later. A wave of "get Jenson on the phone!" fills the garage.

I turn around, Stoffel Vandoorne and Felipe Drugovich are on a stage talking about how exciting it is to see the car, or at least they're trying to look excited. I'm not sure Drugo knows what that even means.

Lawrence Stroll is talking to a mechanic and I can literally hear the thousands of dollars dropping into his bank account with every heartbeat. Surely his son is nearby? Oh yes, right infront of us. Imagine that. (Lance did of course look gorgeous, his racesuit tied around his waist, laughing with his engineers like the whore he is)

We're heading over to the PU station now and the wonderful AM team member is talking us through the specifics of it, but I haven't heard a single word she has said, because unfortunately for her Fernando has decided to enter the garage at that exact moment. I am stood near a space heater, and he locks eyes on me (nope, the space heater) immediately. He makes his way over and sticks his backside directly towards the heater and my face is about as red as the radiator.

"Good morning! How are you?"

I have so many words to say to you right now, and not a single one of them is in a language that either of us can understand. I think I eventually vomitted up some form of acceptable response, however, because he smiled at me.

"Are you cold?"

"Only a little" I respond. Not anymore, I'm picturing myself under you, I think.

I totally lost a good hour after this because there's not a single memory here for me to put into words, damn you Alonso

The blur fades with the freezing air outside, and we're stood on the pitwall. Sky Sports are here now and have us doing media stuff, I run as far away from them as possible and climb onto the pitwall. FIA, if you're reading this, I promise I kept both feet on the ground at all times.

They tell us the shakedown isn't going to plan, suprise surprise, and you actually cannot see the car on track today. I mentally curl into a ball and sob the whole way back to the AMRTC but all of a sudden we are being led to mission control and the composite engineering stations and they are, literally, building a car infront of us whatthefuckishappening

By this point I have recovered from my minor sulk - Grace this is literally the best day of your life get over yourself - and then we're being told that as an apology they have hired a room in the Hilton Hotel opposite the pitlane, free food and drinks for as long as we want, oh and... cars on track. all. day. long.

Whilst writing this i received another email from biblically-accurate marketing analyst god asking for feedback. I think a string of letters indicating incessant shrieking will probably do the trick

#grace at aston

[mousydentist]

February 9th T-5 Days

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else came here.” Chay looks up from his phone to the door of the music room where a boy is peeking his head in. Kim, Chay thinks his name is. They sat together on the first day of classes, and Kim asked to borrow a pen. 

“No worries, you can come in, if you want. It’s just me.”

Kim hesitates for a second before grinning. “Thanks. You’re Chay, right? We have calculus together.”

Chay groans. “Please don’t remind me of that torture disguised as education.”

Kim laughs, sitting next to him and pulling a lunch box out of his bag. “So I’m not the only one who thinks that?”

“Nope,” Chay confirms. “And I bet you’re also thinking about how it’s taught by an old geezer with a stick up his ass, which I have to agree with.”

Kim almost chokes on his food, looking at Chay with a mixture of confusion and amusement. “I’m not sure I would’ve put it that way, but you’re not wrong.”

Chay laughs. “Do you come here a lot, by the way? I come here almost every day, but we’ve never crossed paths.”

Kim nods, swallowing a bite of food before speaking. “I do too, but I usually have student council meetings during this block.”

"Student council?"

"I'm the president."

Chay whistles, impressed. He probably should've known that, but he doesn't care much about class events.

"Cool," he says, then tilts his head. “Do you play?” he asks, gesturing at the decorative little guitar pick dangling from Kim’s necklace.

“Yeah, I do, actually. You too?” Chay nods. 

“Do you have one of your own?” Chay asks, and he sees Kim’s eyes light up.

“I do. I don’t mean to brag, but,” he says, leaning in as he pulls out his phone to show Chay a picture.

After that, the flood gates open. They talk for hours. Not hours. They talk for the whole lunch break, but it feels like hours. Chay’s never had a better first impression of someone. Whenever he meets new people, even when he first met Ohm, he tends to be very polite, smiling kindly and being slightly reserved. But today? He feels like he can’t stop talking, and Kim returns his enthusiasm in kind. It’s like they’ve been good friends for years, rather than strangers until thirty minutes ago. He's surprised how nice it is to hang out with Kim, but maybe that's his own biases about The Popular Kids creeping in.

Their interests seem perfectly aligned, and they don’t run out of things to talk about the whole time. Chay wants to invite Kim over so he can show him the guitar Porsche got him for Christmas, and they can play together. It’s very weird, since Chay’s never wanted to bring anyone over, let alone someone he just met. It’s not even that he thinks Kim would decline, Kim seems just as thrilled as he is to be sharing these kinds of conversations.

To be honest, he feels a little special to see a side of the boy he doesn’t show to just anyone. Well, at least, he’s never shown it to Chay before... He feels a little less special after that thought. This is probably how Kim is with all his friends, and since Chay’s never had a proper conversation with him before, it would make sense that he’s never seen it.

They talk all the way up until the bell rings, letting them know they have five minutes to get to their next class, which, conveniently, is one they share. Chay stands and cracks his back, stiff from how he was leaning back on his arms. Kim waits for him to grab his bag before they start walking together.

“Valentine’s Day is coming up,” Kim says, holding the door open for Chay. “Have anyone special you’re gonna buy chocolates for?”

Chay chuckles a little. “Not me. I’m too busy trying to graduate.”

Kim nods his head, looking forward as they walk through the halls.

Chay bites his cheek. It’s the first awkward silence since they started talking, and he doesn’t like it at all.

“What about you?” Chay asks to get the conversation flowing again.

Kim just shrugs.

Having no idea what to do with that, Chay keeps his mouth shut. 

When they enter the classroom, Chay walks slowly, not sure if he’s supposed to sit in his usual seat or follow Kim. When Kim sits down and doesn’t acknowledge Chay, he takes it as a sign and almost starts to walk past Kim to his seat down the aisle, but he pauses, bites his lip, working up the nerve. 

Finally, he turns back to Kim and holds out his phone.

“Can I get your number?” Chay says, which immediately sounds more forward than he was hoping for. But Kim just blinks at him, then chuckles and hands over his own phone. Chay quickly types his number in, and when he gets his phone back there’s a new contact: kim :)

#KimChayEndorphins #KimChayFicFest #part 1/5 #prompts: #chocolates #casual intimacy #tags: #fluff #high school au #kimchay #kinnporche the series #kpts fic #my fic #ao3

[itsanidiom]

15 DAY BL CHALLENGE - DAY 9

Most Visually Pleasing Love Scene

This is so hard...I like all the love scenes...and I usually save these posts for my friday #hœ q hahah ANYWAY...

You'd think I'd pick The Sign, right? While I do think the love scenes are GORGEOUS, I actually don't LOVE a few things about them. First off, the purple non-diegetic lighting makes it look too FANTASY and takes me out of the reality. Second, in the shower love scene (the one that isn't in Tharn's head lol) there is this one shot that they repeated. That repeat takes me out of it a bit too. Sorry if you didn't notice it and now you will every time you rewatch.

ONE MORE AGAIN~ lol it's a nice shot but whoever edited the scene does annoyingly use it twice...

LAST THING I SWEAR! Unfortunately the pixelation is also such a mood killer. They did a better job on the third love scene (first non imaginary one lol) using TACTICAL OBJECT PLACEMENT. I much prefer that to pixelation.

If they'd made the colouring more natural, didn't pixel censor, and didn't repeat shots, The Sign WOULD HAVE HAD my favourite love scenes hands down, for sure.

SO MOVING ON! My completely unasked-for complaints about The Sign's OTHERWISE STUNNING Love Scenes aside, that leaves me in a toss up between two scenes...it also makes me think maybe I have a thing for mirrors and bathrooms because my top two are:

The KinnPorsche Mirror Handjob

I know I'm more of a VegasPete stan when it comes to KinnPorsche, but THIS SCENE! Oh my god...it is so gorgeous. See, as much as I complain about the coloured lighting in The Sign, I think KinnPorsche did it better. I prefer the diegetic lighting in KinnPorsche. Like this is a club bathroom and it has green lighting. It makes the scene more REAL and not FANTASY without sacrificing that cool green lighting. It also really hammers in the jealousy after Kinn caught Vegas with his man. I think there's a whole breakdown somewhere about the meaning behind colours and the reflection in this scene, but I just love being able to see Kinn's expression at the same time as Porsche's while they're facing each other like this. It's gorgeous.

Speaking of mirrors...

The My Beautiful Man Bathtub Mirror

Okay so the conversation that happens right before this aside—because omg Kiyoi's cnc kink is too real lol has someone written that fic? asking for a friend...—KIYOI'S LITTLE CHEEKS! They are SO PINK. I just love how he like literally asked for this and then he's all shy and embarrassed and he doesn't usually take baths so YOU KNOW he was already turned on and over heating and he spins toward the mirror but then he just has to look at himself while Hira starts touching him and...[becomes rubber ducky]

#BLChallenge2k24 #thank you for coming to my TED Talk #lol #the sign the series #the sign #my beautiful man #utsukushii kare #kinnporsche #kinnporche the series

[the-cookie-of-doom]

hmm here's a prompt -- and no pressure to do this one if you don't want to!

porsche enlisting kim's help to find a gift for kinn. that's what porsche tells kim, anyway (he just wants to get to know kim a little better).

Anything for you, my friend! I have clinical in like an hour so I'm not going to finish this, so here's part 1 of Five Things Porsche Learns About Kim (bc ofc this is going to be a whole Thing)

When Porsche puts his mind to something, nothing can stop him. He's stubborn that way. Him and Porchay wouldn't have survived if he wasn't. Life has been throwing cheap shots at Porsche for his entire life; he's learned to roll with the punches and come up swinging, grinning all the while.

All that to say, he gets what he wants. And right now, he's decided what he wants, is a relationship with his little brother's boyfriend. Because there's nothing Porsche is more stubborn about than family, and that's what they are, now, whether he likes it or not.

Kimhan Theerapanyakul is about to learn the hard way that the Kittisawats are a package deal.

The first thing Porsche learns about Kim is that he's a squirrely little bastard. He weasels his phone number out of Chay - after finding out that Kinn didn't have it saved in his own phone, which will be a conversation for later - but Kim doesn't any answer any of the flurry of phone calls and texts that Porsche hurls his own way. Apparently, according to Porchay, Kim has memorized all the numbers of everyone important enough to be worth his time, and doesn't bother with anyone else.

What if someone has to borrow a phone? Porsche had asked.

Sucks to be them, Chay replied, with a silly smile that might mean he's kidding, or it might mean he knows exactly how ridiculous Kim is being, but still somehow likes him anyway. Porsche would prefer the former but he's almost certain it's the latter, and he's trying to figure out exactly why Chay would like him so much.

Because as far as Porsche can tell? Kim is more akin to a feral cat than anything else. Keeps his distance, sullenly watches Porsche anytime they happen to be in the same room, looking away only to scan for the nearest exit - which he takes at the earliest opportunity - and Porsche is certain Kim has actually hissed at him once. Probably not.

Since Kim won't answer unknown numbers, Porsche is forced to stoop to his level. Kinn's phone is of course out of the question, which only leaves one other person, at least only one Porsche can easily access, guaranteed to have it.

He's holding a struggling Porchay in a headlock while the phone dials. It only rings once.

"Hello, love," Kim greets, his voice warm and syrupy and so, so fond that Porsche has to gag, just to see the way his brother flushes.

"I'm sorry, Kim!" Porchay shouts. He's still struggling, digging his hands into Porsche's sides. "I tried to stop him!"

"Porsche." And there it is, that flat tone Porsche is used to.

"Hi, Kim, how's it going?" he asks casually.

"Goodbye.

"Wait, wait, wait!" It's no use. The line is already dead. Porsche releases his brother with a groan, and doesn't fight it when Chay snatches back his phone. "Why does he have to be so difficult?"

"Kim doesn't like being cornered, hia," Chay scolds him. "If you just talked to him like a normal person-"

"He won't let me! He keeps running!"

"You're intimidating!" Porsche doesn't believe that for a second. If Kinn wasn't intimated by him, no way his murderous little brother way. "Maybe you're coming on too strong? He probably think you're gonna kill him for, y'know..."

"No, I don't know." Porsche side-eyes Chay, who's no longer making eye contact. "Do I need to kill him?"

"No!"

"Should I want to?"

"Hia, No!" Chay throws his hands up. "See! This is why he won't talk to you! You're embarrassing."

"Good. Also, I don't care. I want to talk to him, and unless he wants me to lock you in your room and forbit you from seeing each other for the rest of your life, he better cooperate."

Chay lets out a sigh like the weight of all the world is bearing down on him. "I'll talk to him," he mumbles, sullen.

#cookie writes #kimchay #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawat #porsche kittisawat

[misspoetree]

So the lovely @haahka and I were talking about Tay and how it's a bit sad that the fandom only ever seems to send him on shopping tours or focus on his fashion (you guys know that I'm obsessed with the KinnPorsche Fashion myself, but it's just a little...unadventurous, you know).

And then I got waaay to deep into headcanons with the equally lovely @tumsa (I'm not even sorry for the spam 😌❤).

Now, there are two things I want to do: first, I'd love to hear more Tay headcanons - feel free to throw them at me (as an ask, in the tags, added to this post, whatever you prefer). Because I'm really curious. 👀

And second, I'm going to share a few of mine:

Tay is way more capable than anyone thinks. (But no one needs to know that.)

People treat Tay like a princess within the show - I mean, he isn't even allowed to help in the kitchen at Porsche's. But I don't think Tay IS a princess. I think it's a protective façade. Because letting oneself be underestimated is a (survival) strategy in a world of money and constant power struggle, and a smart one at that. Yes, Tay is really good at reading people in general, but I also feel like people tend to let their guard down around him. Because he's kind, and understanding, and compassionate - and he seems harmless, a bit spoiled even. His 'softness' puts people at ease, makes them talk, makes them more honest than they probably should be. He's not a threat after all. I bet he knows a lot of things he shouldn't. I bet he's smart enough to use that knowledge (to help other people, to help himself, if needed). And I bet Tay could be fucking dangerous if he ever chose to (and wouldn't that be exciting 👀).

I also like to think that Tay has a strong survival instinct that goes beyond 'pretending to be incapable'. He and Kinn have been friends for ages, their families know each other, he basically grew up surrounded by mafia. He probably witnessed Tankhun's kidnapping back in the day. The horror and trauma of it. Tay's family is rich. He's close to the Theerapanyakuls. To the future head of the family. But he DOESN'T have an army of bodyguards following him around. And the downside of 'being harmless' is looking like an easy victim. Tay is too smart to be unprepared. So in my headcanon he knows how to handle a crisis, knows how to deal with danger, knows how to survive. Knows how to get out of the country quickly, how to get money without leaving a trail, how to get an unregistered gun. How to land a mean punch even though he hates it, how to apply (good) first aid EVEN THOUGH HE HATES IT. (I do think that he really isn't a fan of physical stuff, so the princess image is not completely off. Or, well, he lets it work in his favour.)

Tay's reaction to being hurt, being really hurt, is to shut his emotions down completely.

I don't enjoy how Tay's often written as dramatic and over-emotional in his confrontations with Time after what happened at Hum Bar. He isn't sober when he catches his boyfriend shoving his tongue down another man's throat, and well, his boyfriend is shoving his tongue down another man's throat. So of course he's fucking angry. And emotional. Right then and there. But the thing is, Tay had time to think, time to cool off in those other confrontations. And that's just the way to describe Tay's demeanor then: cool, cold, like ice. I like to think that he just freezes over. Turns into a statue of neutral disinterest. Just imagine: someone like Tay, always so kind and compassionate, staring you down with an expressionless face, not reacting to anything you say, looking close to fucking bored. Imagine what that would do to Time, always so full of himself, always so used to getting reactions out of Tay. Walking straight into a wall of ice. Completely out of his element. Really forced to put the work in for once. And it truly is hard work to break through to Tay once he closes his feelings off from you. A little bit of grovelling might be necessary. (That said, dealing with his emotions like that isn't good for Tay either. Of course not.)

There's...'something' between Tay and Vegas, some kind of understanding

I never got over TAY asking after Vegas in the final episode. Or the way Tay watches Vegas as he passes him during the auction. So I'm having a lot of fun wondering about the 'relationship' between Tay and Vegas, or how potential interactions could have gone down.

I mean, Tay 'belongs' to Kinn. We know that Vegas wants everything that belongs to Kinn (I bet he thinks Kinn must have fucked a pretty boy like that at least once. Even though it's not his usual type. Why else would he stick around?). Tay's caring and understanding. We know how Vegas can react...to something like that. (Not him falling in love after one free therapy session or something like that.) Tay is really good at reading people, he is really good at reading Kinn. And we know Vegas is not so different from Kinn (in some ways), even though he would murder anyone suggesting something like that to his face. Or maybe that's exactly what Tay does. Telling that to his face. As Vegas tries to seduce him, in the earlier days. But Tay doesn't try to wound him with that, to be cruel or mean, it's just an observation, spoken in that calm and understanding tone of his. And a younger Vegas is so shocked by that statement that he just...stops? And stares at Tay who just keeps going with that warm look in his eyes and those observations that hit a little too close to home until he can't take it anymore and turns on his heel to...definitely NOT run away like a dog with his tail between his legs.

Vegas keeps his distance after that. That princess isn't worth the effort, he tells himself. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe he stops trying to seduce Tay, yes. But they end up talking again. And again. Because Vegas desperately needs to know what Tay meant with those things he said. And there's just... something about their conversations that keeps Vegas coming back. Until (stealing some thoughts from @tumsa here <3) Tay tries to convince Vegas that the competition between him and Kinn is dumb. Vegas does keep his distance, then.

And Tay gives up trying to help, trying to make him see how futile all of this is because it's clear Vegas won't listen to anyone but his father. But he still cares about Vegas, and seeing all the things Vegas does to himself without realising, seeing that ever-growing self-destructive obsession with Kinn sits like a leaden ball in Tay's stomach. The knowledge that he can't do anything to help is a bit like its own form of torture.

Anyways, (stealing again from @tumsa) Tay definitely ends up going to the hospital to visit Vegas. In secret, of course. And seeing Vegas and Pete together, seeing Vegas being changed by love, seeing him try to be a better person for Pete, putting all this effort in to make it work - maybe all of this forces Tay to reflect on his own love life for once. To reflect on the things he wants. The things he deserves, after all.

Nearly everyone had a crush on Tay, one time or another

You guys know the thing we do with Vegas? Like how VegasPete is the holy grail of endgame ships but it's so much fucking fun to ship Vegas with everyone and to imagine all his possible encounters and escapades? Because he's manipulation, seduction and psychological issues stacked on top of each other and wrapped in a velvet shirt?

Well. I like to do the same thing with Tay. For more or less opposite reasons. Because he's understanding and warm and compassionate and smart (and really pretty). In a world full of violence and trauma and repressed emotions, only sharp edges. I mean, who wouldn't crave the warmth, who wouldn't want to bathe in the sunlight for a while? I'm pretty sure people are falling en masse for Tay. And I think Tay doesn't always know how to handle it. Or genuinely doesn't realise what kind of effect he has on those poor bastards for doing nothing more than showing them a bit of kindness. Or maybe he's simply choosing to ignore it because he only has eyes for one person and one person alone.

Anyways, a lot of fun directions to go with this last headcanon for now. (And I'm keeping it intentionally vague and without examples because otherwise, this would turn into a multichapter fanfic I don't have time to write just now. 🤡)

#it's a bad idea to post this when there's so many other things I should be doing #and I have to go back to work tomorrow #but that hasn't stopped me before has it 🤡 #and I had way too much fun writing and thinking about this ngl #(was there infj projection involved in this? maybe. MAYBE IT WAS) #anyways - I'd love to hear and collect some more Tay headcanons <3 #and I leave it to @haahka to share that one headcanon with you that started all of this 😂❤ #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche headcanon #kinnporsche tay #vegas theerapanyakul #timetay #because the kinnporsche brain rot is still real

[haeseolar]

the gaze of the angels

guild hunter au - kinnporsche / archangel!kinn, hunter!porsche

rated G, 2.7k words

twitter

based on a scene from the first book in the guild hunter series, angels' blood. for context, angel's create and handle vampires as they work under them. porsche as a hunter tracks any unruly vamp who has escaped and brings them back to their 'owners', in this case, the arch/angels.

----

“Give me one good reason I should be talking to you on my day off.”

“Well, hello to you too, Porsche,” Arm, the director of the Hunter’s Guild, says, his voice no less sarcastic even through the phone line.

Porsche snorts, kicking off his boots into a heap by his front door. He’ll fix that later; right now, he has one thing on his mind: to relax.

“I’m waiting,” Porsche replies, clicking his tongue in annoyance. He’d never hang up on his best friend-cum-boss, but the temptation grows as he wanders into his apartment - his haven, his sanctuary - and feels in his gut that whatever Arm is about to tell him won’t be anything good.

“Well,” Arm begins and then goes so quiet Porsche has to check to make sure they’re still connected. “Your holiday is being cut sh-"

“No fucking way!” Porsche cuts him off, coming to stand in the middle of his kitchen.

The marble top island is more cluttered than he’d like it to be, but he’s been nonstop working for the past 3 weeks on one of the hardest hunts of his life. A rogue vampire had gone insane, slaughtering more people than he could count on his fingers. Despite being a crazy lunatic, the bastard had been smart, and led Porsche on a wild chase until he finally caught up and sent him back to his angel owner for her to deal with. He’d barely had time to sleep, let alone clean.

“Porsche,” Arm’s voice is hard - stoic and with no room to argue, taking the tone that the director of the Guild should have. This wasn’t a friendly chat - this was a business one through and through. “You’ve been requested.”

Porsche scoffs, “That’s nice, but -”

“By an archangel.”

Porsche feels his whole world go quiet. “It’s not April Fool’s Day, Arm,” He says shakily.

“I know, and I’d never joke about this, but…” Arm sighs, and it’s a frustrated one. “We’re between a rock and a hard place. I tried to deny his request and said you’re off duty for the foreseeable future, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Fucking archangels, Porsche thought, the voice inside his head spiteful. He’d never be able to say it out loud without dire consequences, but in the privacy of his own brain, he’ll curse them out as much as he wants. They’re selfish creatures, living in their high-rises to look down upon all mortals, ruling over the cities they claim as their own without a care in the world. As long as they’re happy, nothing else matters.

“What does he want?”

“They wouldn’t say. His lackeys who called up were very secretive, even with me,” Arm grumbles something under his breath with the same amount of disdain Porsche feels. The archangels are famously hard to work with. “I’m really sorry, and I will do all I can to make this up to you - but you have to meet him tomorrow.”

“Which one?” Porsche asks, mind going a hundred miles an hour. He went through all the ones he knew - the ones he’d already worked for. He’s had to clean up more of their messes than he can count, but of course, they do nothing but deposit a grand sum of money in his bank account and go about their day without even a simple thanks.

“Archangel Anakinn.”

The name cut off all of Porsche’s internal ramblings. That name had fear instilled into it, each letter dripping with the promise of death if you defied him. The archangel of Bangkok wasn’t exactly known for his niceties; even Porsche, who had fought rogue vampires twisted with bloodlust beyond any form of rationality, who stood up against anyone or anything not caring about the consequences, starts to feel anxiety creeping in.

“Fuck me,” Porsche let out, leaning against the counter to keep him up. His knees felt weak. “Let me guess, I’ve gotta go on my own, too?”

He could feel the wince through the phone as Arm answered, “Yep.”

Double fuck, Porsche curses. “Ping me the time and location.”

“Porsche -” Arm began, but Porsche hung up before he could finish, not in the mood to talk anymore.

He glances around his apartment, at the warm woods and white accents, at the trinkets and paintings spread around that he’d collected in his travels, and breathes in the scent of incense to try and ground himself. There’s no use in avoiding the inevitable, so he looks outside his window at the hotel situated opposite his apartment building. It towers above him, each window lit with shadows of activity behind them. It’s a building that never sleeps, with all sorts of goings on happening in the secrecy only immortals had the pleasure of knowing.

Porsche’s phone pinged with the details of his meeting for tomorrow.

Director Arm:

Tomorrow, Theerapanyakul’s Hotel, 09:00 am sharp.

Memorising the information immediately, Porsche knows that if he takes a few steps forward, he’ll be able to see the rooftop of the hotel - the Theerapanyakul’s Hotel. It doesn’t have any railing or safety bordering it, as there would be no point. It’s a landing and takeoff point for angels, and they could fly, their giant wings sprawling outwards so wide that even to this day, Porsche finds himself pausing whatever he was doing to stop and watch. He’d spent countless hours since he’d moved into this apartment spying on them, watching them come and go, equally fascinated as he was repulsed by their royalty in society.

Each angel had their own set of wings, and no two were the same. One pair had caught his attention the most out of all he’d seen, and he’d seen plenty at this point. Porsche recalls ones that were so wide that they had almost blocked out the entire sky, so dark in colour that it seemed as if a black hole had opened up in their place, if not for the red tips of the feathers that were visible even from so far away. Porsche has never met Archangel Anakinn - but he knows him. He’s seen him, watched him, studied him the best he could from afar as he admired each descent and take-off from flight, the beauty of his wings too tempting to look away from even for a second.

Porsche walks forward, eyes rising upwards until he can finally see the rooftop, hoping to catch a glimpse of them. To his dismay, the rooftop is empty, so instead he imagines what it’ll be like when he is up there tomorrow, and if he’d survive the meeting long enough to continue admiring the view of the angels he so frequently indulged in

-----

“Alright, alright! I get it, no need to push,” Porsche says, wrenching his shoulder away from a heavy-handed vampire. 

The impudent thing just glares at him, his fangs poking out, just begging for the hunter to act up within the hotel. Everyone knows that you behave when in a general radius of an archangel, let alone when you’re in one’s territory. The vampire looks young, but the smell radiating off of him could only mean age - and Porsche doesn’t mean a few years, but hundreds. He looks overly serious, with his perfect ponytail and miserable atmosphere, which only makes Porsche want to prod at him even more to see if he can get a reaction out of him instead.

“Get in.” The vampire orders, shoving Porsche into an open elevator. 

“Does your boss not teach you any manners?” Porsche mutters under his breath, nose scrunching up in distaste at the vampire’s scent now clinging to him. 

Each one smells different, much like each angel’s wings - it’s part of their DNA, their defining feature. This one smells sour, his scent warped with internal rage and something sad, almost as if he’s left it so long that it’s gone off, twisted and rotten. It’s clear that he hates Porsche, so much so that it’s leaking out of every pore.

“What did you say, guild hunter?” The vampire snaps, eyes narrowed in malice.

“I said, did your boss not teach you any manners?” Porsche repeats, enunciating each word clearly, not caring about the consequences. 

“Why, you -” The vampire begins through gritted teeth until the elevator doors open and let in a gust of wind so strong it threatens to knock him off balance.

Porsche blinks, his eyes drying out immediately as he takes in the scene before him. He hadn’t even noticed they’d made it to the top, caught up in the brewing fight. The vampire grabs his arm, dragging him out and practically throwing him forward. Porsche’s senses are all going off, each one struggling to acclimate to a slew of incoming smells, sounds, and feelings. 

“Khun Kinn, he’s arrived.”

“Thank you, Big. You may go,” A voice replies, so smooth and luxurious that Porsche’s stomach clenches. 

He watches as the vampire - or Big, he supposes - bows and takes his leave, looking like nothing more than a trained puppy in front of his master. Porsche holds back the urge to sneer, but he reigns it in.

 

Even though he’s completely open out here, the wind is strong and loud, it’s warmer than he expected, the sun shining directly into his eyes. He squints, trying to gather his bearings as he looks out across the expanse of the roof, focusing on a shadowy figure at the opposite end. Even without fully seeing him - Porsche knows who it is. 

Archangel Anakinn.

There’s no doubt in his mind, no second guesses, as his mere aura alone is enough to suffice. The great span of his wings flutters, rising and blocking out the harsh glare of the sun, bringing everything back into focus. Porsche blinks, black spots dotting around his vision as he adjusts until he can finally see who he is truly facing.

His breath catches in his throat, eyes widening without his permission as he takes in the archangel. Anakinn’s hair is perfectly styled, not a hair out of place except the purposely left-out strand that catches on his eyelashes, even with the harsh winds that are whipping Porsche’s clothing and hair around relentlessly. It’s as if the earth has stopped moving, stopped existing, covering Anakinn in an eternal peace where he’s untouchable. Porsche’s eyes carry on moving, desperate and wanting to take the man in. They follow his masculine brow bone and down the gentle slope of his nose, cataloguing each mole and curve, straight angle and harsh cut of his jawline. 

Even hidden, Porsche can sense the sheer amount of strength hidden within his body. It’s not all physical, although he doesn’t doubt that he is just as strong in that sense as he is in any other, but the archangel naturally exudes such a vibe that Porsche feels dizzy. Anakinn’s clothes are simple - a white shirt that stands out starkly against his black wings and is open enough to show off the cut of his pecs, along with a pair of tight slacks. He mustn’t feel the chill, either, as any sensible person would at least wear a jacket up here.

 

Porsche’s eyes flicker back up to meet Anakinn’s, and where they are a natural brown colour, there’s nothing normal about them. It isn’t just one shade, but hundreds, maybe even thousands, that meld and entwine amongst each other in his irises, glowing almost golden with how rich they are that Porsche fears if he looks for too long, he will lose himself forever amongst them. 

“Done looking, Hunter Porsche?”

Porsche visibly jolts at the address, shuddering back into reality as he snaps out of whatever daze he is in.

“It’s not often I find myself face-to-face with an archangel,” Porsche retorts, willing the heat on his cheeks at being caught to fade away.

Anakinn smiles, barely a tilt of his lips, and yet Porsche feels he’s being treated like a child. It’s humouring - demeaning - like the angel opposite him sees him as nothing more than a toy to entertain himself with. It wouldn’t surprise him if that’s exactly what was happening, but it pisses him off either way. 

“We’re a private bunch,” Anakinn replies simply, gesturing to the table to the side. Porsche follows his hand to the breakfast spread laid out for them. “Shall we have something to eat, and then begin?”

Porsche shrugs, too stiff to be casual, but it at least forces his muscles to loosen, “Sure.”

Anakinn waits until Porsche moves first, and even with his back turned, he can feel eyes following him with each step. Before he can drag a seat out for himself, Anakinn asks from right behind him:

“Did Big treat you well on your way up?”

Porsche spins around, not having felt or heard anyone creep up on him. His heart is in his throat, his hand on the knife that was hidden in his jacket sleeve, the blade peaking out as he’s ready to attack. It’s lucky he just about caught himself from stabbing the archangel, too on edge from nerves.

Anakinn glances down, catching sight of the knife, “I see you weren’t checked for weapons.”

“I was,” Porsche replies instantly, and even though it’s delayed, he finally gets a waft of the archangel’s scent. His mouth waters - it’s not like anything he’s smelled before. It’s sensual, sweet, and musky - cloying and addictive. “Your people just underestimated me.”

“Oh?” Anakinn’s eyebrow raises, and it’s so unfairly attractive that Porsche feels a pulse of violence rise in him. “I assure you, no one in this building would dare do such a thing.”

“You don’t need to flatter me,” Porsche says cuttingly, sliding the blade back into its rightful place. “I know you chose me for a reason, and I’m damn good at my job, whatever it may be.”

Anakinn hums, eyes appraising as they trace over his face and down his body, and back up again. Each bit they cover leaves hot trails behind, burning his skin even through layers of clothes. “What if I wanted to flatter you?”

Porsche’s heart seizes, his throat clicking as he swallows. “Just add a couple thousand onto my pay check, and we’d be good.”

Anakinn steps closer, boxing Porsche in, pushing his lower back into the chair behind him. It digs in at an uncomfortable angle, precariously balanced on something that could move and leave him unmoored and unstable in his stance. Their chests are almost touching, and Anakinn’s scent gets stronger, sweeter, and more enticing. Porsche can see Anakinn’s wings out of his peripherals, and the feathers look even softer than he could’ve ever imagined. He wants to reach out and touch, but he doesn’t dare.

“Only a couple thousand, hunter?” Anakinn tilts his head to the side, deceptively innocent, “I think you’re worth more than that.”

“You haven’t even tried me yet,” Porsche replies, and he’s not sure what he’s talking about - whether it’s the hunt he’s about to be debriefed on, or something else. Even worse, he’s not sure which one he’d rather be discussing.

“We can change that,” Anakinn says, voice low, words rich and honeyed, as his eyes drop to Porsche’s lips. 

They linger, only for a moment, and then they’re gone, along with Anakinn’s presence. Porsche gasps in shock, turning back around to face the table, where the archangel is now sitting down, poised as if he’s on a throne and not a garden chair. 

“So, you’re not a cheap worker, hm?” 

Porsche drags his seat out, watching as the screeching sound of the metal against the concrete doesn’t make the man flinch. He flops down onto it, relishing in the plush softness of the cushion beneath him. 

Folding his arms over his chest, Porsche replies: “I’ll rinse you dry, but I’m worth every penny.”

Anakinn’s eyes search him again, this time more intense, not even bothering to hide the roaring desire and attraction in them. “Then I suppose I look forward to working with you, Hunter Porsche.”

Porsche smirks, shifting in his seat, leaning into the warm bubbling sensation caressing his skin at such a gaze directed at him, the base of his spine tingling with it. He can’t wait to see what Archangel Anakinn has in store for him.

#kinnporsche #my writing #kinnporsche fic #kinnporsche the series #kpts