Race Me! [t.Shoto x gender neutral! reader]

Chapter 4

(Key: Y/N, Hitoshi, Denki, Shouto, Katsuki, Kirishima, Momo)

^last chapter^

***a pink Porsche 911,

a red Frisker Karma,

an yellow McLaren Senna,

a black Challenger,

and gray a Audi R8

"What the h*ll is going on here..."

"I have no idea"***

As Hitoshi and I were standing in place like a deer in headlights, the drivers of each car had stepped out of the drivers seat. Soon enough the driver to the pink Porsche that just happened to fit the 'Barbie trademark' had made his was over.

"Hitoshi! You didn't tell me you were racing tonight!"

"I'm not. Just though I'd let the new kid into small town racing."

While Hitoshi was talking to this blonde stranger I got my keys out of my car. You can never be to sure around strangers, bougie or not. I put the keys in the pocket of my jean shorts.

"Yo, Y/N!"

I look up to see Hitoshi waving me over with Mr. Blonde waiting at his side. I make my way over to the two young men in the making. As I was walking I noticed what our 'surprise visitor' was wearing a white t-shirt with a black jean jacket and a ripped pair of jeans to match. He would defiantly be considered handsome in today's standards, then again so could everyone else that just 'happened' to dropped by unexpectedly.

"Y/N, this is-"

"Your future boy toy, if you'll have me-"

The boy was interrupted by Hitoshi hitting some decency into him and continued what he was saying before he was inturuppted.

"His name is Kaminari Denki, and is possibly one of the most stupid living thing on the planet at the moment."

"Oh come on Hitoshi! You could of at least called me handsome, help ya boi OUT!"

"I can't believe this talking Barbie has a name. But, as Hitoshi said: I'm Y/N."

"Oh great, another Hitoshi! The THOUGHT of the two of you being friends terrifies me"

While Denki was screaming his lungs out, I see the red Frisker from earlier and its driver pulling into the makeshift course along with a white 1998 Challenger. Both engines trying to roar louder than the other. The flagger, my god, her beauty would defiantly be a distraction if I was the one racing. Her black hair resembled that of a goddess and so did her pale fair skin that resembled that of a pearl. Her slim fingers held a bandana that was once on her wrist now in the palm of her hand. She rouse the bandana as a symbol of 'get ready boys'. Those engines still going, it would be a sin to think that they would ever to be silenced. It was all a blur as she threw it on the ground.

The two cars flew with the wings of speed as they both prayed to win this race of speed and only speed alone. The sight itself reminded me of when my father used to race, the sight was indeed nostalgic. So much so that it felt like I was only taken back to when he was alive, when he was behind the wheel, when I could see that want- no- it was desire in his eyes. The desire to win and to take home his winnings.