#I also escaped the hotel after :) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ja3yun · 14 days ago

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Sweat for Me | P.JS

stranger! jay x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, alcohol consuption, tipsy ynjay (all consensual), strangers to lovers, creepy men in clubs, but jay saves the day, not proofread anything else lmk! w.c: 7.8k synopisis: after a stressful week you go to the club to let loose and forget your problems, and jay is there to lend the perfect helping hand

a/n: hi! this is pure self indulgence because i saw jay at the prada event and went feral so, this is for my jay girlies! also, please do not have sex w strangers in clubs !! take it to a hotel and save yourself the embarrassment of getting caught. as always, comments, reblogs, and feedback is all appreciated! i love you guys, and see you at halloween for serial killer!jake <33

Walking into the club, the heat envelopes you first, thick and heavy, clinging to your skin like a warm, damp cloak. Fog from a nearby smoke machine waves across the air, softening the strobe neon lights above, and the bass from the DJ pulses right through the building, shaking the floor under you and setting your heartbeat to a new rhythm.

Every breath you take is a cocktail of scents - alcohol, sweet perfumes, musky cologne, with faint notes of sweat and cigarettes threading through. Ahead, bodies sway and stumble, arms flung over each other’s shoulders, laughter and shouts lost and misinterpreted in the pounding music. Faces are flushed, eyes are glassy, and heads are thrown back in abandon.

And you need to catch up.

For a lot of people, this is their place of hell and you completely understand why; it stinks, people are rude, and alcohol turns people into caricatures of themselves that are less than flattering. But for you, this is the perfect way to unwind after a stressful week.

You feel at home here, because it’s the one place where everyone is allowed to embarrass themselves and no one will bat an eye. You can let loose and just forget who you are, even for a minute. Sure, you need to avoid the creeps who think they’re entitled to touch you just because you exist and it’s a dark club, but just escaping reality for a night? It’s worth it in your opinion.

You weave through the crowd, brushing past clusters of people lost in their own worlds, and head straight for the bar with your two best friends, Yuki and Dosie. You’re already rehearsing the orders in your head, knowing exactly what they'll go for. Tonight’s plan is simple: drink hard and fast, percentage over pallet, because if there was ever a week that called for it, it’s this one.

Dosie’s been grinding through double shifts as a nurse, Yuki’s buried under her endless university schedule, and you…well, work’s a whole mess you’re not about to think about right now. All you need to think about is forgetting every bollocking from your boss and get fucked up.

Reaching the bar, you lean against it, the girls just behind you as you order three double vodkas and cranberry - a dash of lemonade for Yuki since she hates the tang of the cranberry. You always ask her why she orders it if she hates it, but she insists that she needs to get more fruit in her diet, that and the other reason every woman drinks cranberry.

When they arrive, you dunk the black paper straws into each glass and pass them back, clinging to yours for dear life. It takes you all your strength not to down it right there and there, but you’ll be civilised since it’s your first one. You’ll leave the chugging for your third or fourth drink.

As you weave through the crowd, following your friends to the dance floor, someone brushes against you. It’s not a hard bump - thankfully not enough to spill your drink - but it’s just enough to bring you to a halt. Your pet peeve is people who push past without so much as an “excuse me,” and you’re definitely not about to be that person. So, you look up to apologise…

And that’s when the world around you slips away.

The man is beautiful, stunning, shaggable, and every other adjective for hot that your brain can muster, which right now is not a lot because you’re stuck in a trance. The dim light catches on his features, casting soft shadows on his face. His black hair is parted and finger-brushed out of his face in a way that seems effortless but perfect, framing his sharp jaw that you’re sure is only obtainable through the hands of Michelangelo himself. His lips, pink and oh-so-soft looking, curve into a smile, showing deep lines and crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He must smile a lot, you think, suddenly taken by this unexpected warmth, by the friendliness in his expression. If you were to bump into anyone else in this club, you’d be hit with nothing but arrogance and pissy attitude.

The flush on your cheeks deepens from mild embarrassment to a warm, undeniable craving of lust. You’re stuck, words caught in your throat as you realise you’ve been staring a bit too long. His expression shifts, his friendly smile turning slightly puzzled, as though he’s caught you mid-thought.

“Uh - sorry,” you finally manage, forcing out a small, sheepish laugh.

“For staring or for bumping into me?” He says it so casually, his eyebrows raised and lips smirking.

You swallow hard and laugh again, shaking your head to set yourself straight and form a coherent sentence, ridding your mind of the Boggle-like state it’s in. “For both, sorry.”

His eyes flick down and then back up, trailing over you with a calm, easy confidence. It’s the same gesture you’ve seen from at least five other men in the past 10 minutes you’ve been in this club, but somehow with him, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. There’s something about his gaze that makes your pulse quicken instead of setting off your usual alarms.

You pray to the heavens that he isn’t a creep.

But before you have the chance to find out, you’re yanked by your arm, stumbling as Yuki pulls you toward the centre of the dance floor. Her smile is innocent, and to be fair, she’s just here to have a good time with her girls, she doesn’t know that she’s just ripped you away from the possible man of your dreams.

Yuki drags you deeper into the crowd and you look back over your shoulder, your eyes finding his one last time. He’s watching you, hands casually in his pockets, a small smile playing on his lips. With a faint nod, he raises a hand in a playful salute, a silent goodbye as he lets you slip out of sight as if you were just a passing thought to him. But that look - the way his eyes linger for an extra second - stays with you as you’re swallowed up by the pulsing lights and music, unable to shake the feeling that this won’t be the last time you see him.

_____

As the hours fly by, you lose yourself exactly the way you’d hoped. Your arms sway above your head, a massive grin stretching across your face, every bit of stress and worry vanishing with each beat of the music. Adele’s beautiful and should-not-be-remixed-voice pulses around you in an EDM beat, but honestly? You’re having the best time, the way you intended to.

Tipping your glass back, you drain the last drop of your fourth drink tonight. You’re careful with your limits, always pacing yourself just enough to feel the buzz without going overboard and even though you wanna get plastered to the point you can’t see straight, you’re lacking right now.

“I’m gonna head to the bar,” you announce, raising your voice far too loudly over the music, alcohol dulling your sense of volume along with everything else. “You guys want the same?”

Yuki and Dosie nod eagerly, eyes gleaming with the effects of the night. They’re much faster than you with their drinks, and you can tell by their happy, slightly unsteady grins that every percent is hitting them. While this will be drink number five for you, they’re well into their eighth rounds, but you all seem to be on the same page, perfectly balanced in your shared state of i don’t give a fuck vibes.

Making you’re way to the bar, you slide into an open spot, nudging your way in beside a guy to your left and a girl to your right. You’re barely settled when you feel someone lean closer, just a little too close. You glance to your left, and sure enough, the guy next to you has turned his full attention on you.

“You good?” he drawls, his voice low and dripping with a forced charm. He’s got a smirk on his face and it’s obvious he’s had one too many. “Haven’t seen you around here before. You here alone?”

You try for a polite smile, keeping things neutral as you shake your head. You hate that you developed the habit of being nice even when uncomfortable just to avoid conflict. “No, I’m here with friends.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” He’s unfazed, his eyes roaming over you, lingering a little too long. “You know, a girl like you shouldn’t have to stand here waiting for a drink. I could get the bartender’s attention for you,” he offers, leaning even closer. His breath smells faintly of ciggies and rum, and you have to fight the urge to lean away.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” you say, keeping your tone light but firm.

He doesn’t seem to take the hint. “Come on, don’t be shy. A girl as gorgeous as you? You must get free drinks all the time.” His hand drifts to rest on the bar near yours, his fingers brushing too close for comfort.

The interaction is setting off all kinds of alarms, but you keep your cool, just begging the bartender to come over. “I appreciate it, but I can handle it.”

Still, he persists, his eyes flicking up and down like he’s sizing you up. “You know, you should really give a nice guy a chance. Not everyone out there’s gonna treat you as well as I would.”

It takes every bit of patience to keep from rolling your eyes. Luckily, just as he opens his mouth to say something else, a man stands impossibly close behind you, dragging you away from the burden to your left.

“Why are you talking to my girl?” the boy behind you says, voice low and dangerous, clearly warning the man away. His hips are placed respectfully on your waist and you can feel him hover just slightly, a little sign to show you that he’s just trying to help you and not add another dick to your problem.

Scoffing, the man eyes your saviour up. “Yeah, like I’d believe that. You’re punching, mate.”

Honestly, you feel a flicker of offence on behalf of your unexpected saviour, but he doesn’t flinch, no reaction whatsoever; his entire stance relaxed as he stares the other man down. “I think you’re the one out of your depth, mate,” he replies mockingly. “You look like a fucking rodent that’s been flushed down the toilet.”

You bite down on your lips, fighting to hold back a laugh. The last thing you want to do is rile this man up, but the person grabbing your waist seems to be doing a good job of that already.

The creep’s face flushes in anger, stepping an inch closer and you instantly take one back, your backside colliding with the boy behind you. Only then do his fingers dig into your hips, that protective instinct coming in full throttle. Considering he’s someone you’ve never met before, you’re surprised at his actions; no, you don’t expect every man to turn a blind eye when a woman is uncomfortable, but you don’t expect a stranger to step in as hard as this.

“Look, mate,” the creep sneers, trying to regain some of his earlier bravado. “You think you can just play hero and get laid? That doesn’t work, ain’t that right, kitten?”

He’s directly talking to you and your skin crawls with dread. First of all, the kitten has thrown you off and made you gag internally - if you had maybe one more drink and two shots down it would have been actual vomit. Part of you wishes you did so it would get this creep away.

“Um-”

“You’re arguing with me, not my girl. Don’t speak to her.”

The creep’s eyes darken as he takes another step forward, puffing his chest out to look bigger. “You want to go, then? You think you can take me?”

“Is that what you want?” your saviour replies, not backing down an inch, his stance firm and unwavering. “Because I’d be happy to show you just how far out of your depth you really are. You clearly can’t handle rejection, buddy.”

“I’ll fight you right now.”

“Try. Me.”

The next thing you know, the boy’s arm is instinctively shielding you, pushing you back and stepping in your place. His height finally comes into focus…in fact, you recognise him. It’s the guy you bumped into earlier, the one with the stunning smile and eyes that seemed to sparkle even in the dim light of the club. The heat of the moment makes your heart race, but not from fear. It’s a mix of adrenaline and something more exciting.

The invasive man glares, but you can see uncertainty creeping into his expression as he comes to terms with the fact that he’s not dealing with an easy target. He only signed up for a little back and fourth with you, seeing you as lesser than him. “You think you can just walk around like some tough guy? You’re nothing,” he spits, his bravado faltering slightly.

The boy in front of you rolls his eyes, unimpressed. “And you’re just a pathetic loser trying to hit on girls - my girl - if I need to repeat that. Seriously, just walk away before you embarrass yourself any further.”

The creep’s fists clench at his sides, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to throw down. But as he glances between the two of you, you can see the gears turning in his head, weighing out his options. Finally, he huffs out a frustrated breath, taking a step back. “Whatever, man. She’s not even that fucking pretty.”

With that, he turns and pushes his way through the crowd, leaving you and your unexpected knight standing there. You’re still processing what just happened when he turns to you, his expression shifting from fierce protector to something softer.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and genuine, the protective intensity still lingering in his gaze.

Again, just like earlier, you’re stuck for words, that pretty face sucking out any form of capacity you have. You open your mouth, but the response you intend to deliver is swallowed by the rush of heat that floods your cheeks.

You manage to nod, your voice barely above a whisper, your answer probably being swallowed by the music. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks to you.” The words feel inadequate, a mere echo of the gratitude swelling inside you. God knows how long you would have had to endure that man’s presence if it wasn’t for… “What’s your name?”

“Jay. You?”

“Y/N.”

He nods, humming and trailing those beautiful eyes across your features. “Suits you.”

You laugh, not fully understanding what he means by that but thankful as you accept it as a compliment.

He flashes a grin, a bit of mischief sparking in his gaze. "Do you get that often?" he asks, leaning in slightly to be heard over the pulsing music.

You shake your head, still feeling a touch flustered. "No, actually…"

"Good," he says, his smile softening. "Then I’m glad to be the first."

He is so good at catching you off guard, leaving you with a warm glow that tingles down to your fingertips and toes. For a moment, there’s only the two of you, his steady gaze holding yours as if trying to memorise every detail.

Finally, you find your voice again. “So, do you always swoop in to save strangers?” you ask, a small smile playing on your lips.

He chuckles, shrugging a little. “Only when they look like they’re in need of a rescue.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And I looked like I needed rescuing?”

“Not exactly.” His eyes flicker over you again, a hint of admiration there that he doesn’t bother hiding. “You look like you could’ve handled him just fine. But, you know...couldn’t hurt to step in.”

Something about the way he’s looking at you makes your heart beat a little faster. Before you can stop yourself, you reply, “Well, let me buy you a drink as a thank you, yeah?” you ask but you’re already back to facing the bar, waving down the bartender. “What’s your poison?”

Jay chuckles and puts his hands back in his pockets. While you find the action hot, he actually does it so he doesn’t place his hand on the small of your back and make you feel uncomfortable. Last thing he wants is you comparing him to that fucking weirdo who can’t read a room.

“How about you dance with me instead?” he suggests, tilting his chin up to the bartender as he grabs his attention and speaks to him. “Aperol spritz and a vodka cran, please.”

The order surprises you, causing you to tilt your head in wonder. “You know my drink?”

Shrugging casually, Jay picks the wallet from the back of his pocket and fishes out his bank card. “Not many red drinks out there,” he leans down to your ear, eyes still focused forward and not on you, “plus you smell sweet, just like it.”

Your pussy might as well be a mouth with the way it’s drooling all over your panties. It’s not what he said, but how he said it. So much control, his words barely above a murmur, each one landing with a precision that sends a shiver down your spine. He’s so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath near your ear, but he maintains just enough distance to keep things respectful. His subtle confidence makes the whole interaction feel like a slow burn, igniting something electric between you two without crossing any lines.

As he straightens up, the bartender holds out the card machine and he doesn’t even glance at it before tapping his card, his gaze finally meeting yours not caring about anything or anyone else but you. The hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips shows he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you, yet he doesn’t exude any arrogance at all.

"So," he says, handing you the drink once it arrives, "is this good enough for a dance? Saving you and buying you a round?"

You raise the straw to your lips, letting the drink cool you as you take a sip, hoping it’ll calm the heat simmering inside you. "I’d say it’s a solid start," you reply, managing to hold his gaze even as your heart thumps in your chest.

Placing his hand out in front of you, Jay waits for you to accept his offering and guides you to the dance floor. You completely forget that you’re supposed to get your friends drinks and leave every thought of them behind, your sole focus now on the man who has your fingers locked in his.

The music comes back into focus as he twirls you around to place you in front of him, a grin reaching from ear to ear as he watches you get into the beat of Levitating by Dua Lipa.

Jay’s eyes glimmer with excitement as he matches your rhythm, moving in sync with you as if this moment was something you’d both been waiting for all night. He keeps his touch light but undeniably close as his free hand finds its place on your waist as the beat pulses around you. You sway together, laughter bubbling between you both as he smoothly guides you through each beat, his own moves filled with the same easy confidence that’s had you hooked from the start.

You learn one thing about each other in this moment is that while Jay can dance and hold a beat, you absolutely cannot. Whatever you want to call the poor attempt of a hip sway, causes Jay to chuckle.

With his smile stretching wide as he watches your attempt at swaying, it’s obvious he’s clearly amused, but there’s nothing mocking in it; instead, he seems genuinely charmed. Shaking his head with a playful grin, he downs the last of his drink, tipping it back in one smooth motion, his eyes rolling back and making you think the worst thoughts before he reaches for your empty glass. With a quick, appreciative nod, he hands them both off to a passing floor staff member, barely glancing away from you.

Now with all his focus back on you, he gently takes your hands in his, guiding them around his neck. “Here,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing softly over yours as he brings you closer, “maybe this will make it easier.” He settles his hands on your waist again, the warmth of his touch grounding you as he guides your movements with steady confidence.

Your arms are now wrapped around his neck and the space between you all but disappears. He’s close enough that you can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong against yours, and his gaze holds yours, unwavering. “Better?” he asks, his voice low, just loud enough for you to hear over the music.

A little breathless, you nod. “Definitely.”

He chuckles softly, his eyes flickering down to your lips for just a split second before meeting your gaze again. “Let me lead you, yeah?” he murmurs, swaying gently to the beat, guiding you with such ease that you can’t help but fall into the rhythm with him. The room around you fades once more, and all that exists is Jay’s closeness.

Jay is so fucking good looking you could almost pass out in his grip. There are so many beautiful men out there, yet you can’t rhyme off a single name that compares to him. Granted, you cannot trust club lighting with anyone - even you look like Bella Hadid in dim light - but there’s no denying that if the lights came up and blinded you from your alcohol-induced haze, you would still be awe-struck by him.

But you’ve been so busy with his face that you’ve failed to notice his outfit, the softness of his cardigan tickles your fingertips and it makes you want to explore further.

Your fingers graze over the fabric of his Prada cardigan, marvelling at its dip against his firm chest beneath. The subtle luxury of his outfit stands out even here; the cardigan, perfectly fitted, highlights the breadth of his shoulders and the line of his torso, while his straight-cut jeans hint at his natural, laid-back confidence. And then there are his shoes - a little too fancy for the club you would say, but somehow just right on him, adding a touch of elegance to his casual charm.

Maybe that sums him up as a person. You don’t know for sure, but you suddenly want to.

"Aren't you warm?" you ask, your hands sliding down from his neck, fingers trailing over his chest as if drawn by some magnetic pull. The cardigan might be fine for any other occasion, but under the club lights, it seems almost criminally hot. Both figuratively and literally.

Jay shakes his head, his gaze darkening just a little as he leans in, his voice dropping to a low murmur, the musk of his perfume making you dizzy. “It’s okay,” he says, his eyes holding yours with a spark of mischief. “I’ve got nothing on underneath.”

The words, paired with his subtle smirk, hit you just as Sweat by Zayn begins to blare through the speakers, almost as if the song has been queued up for this exact moment. The sultry beat wraps around you both, amplifying the tension in the air, the lyrics speaking directly to the spark between you. You let your fingers trail along the fabric at the collar, testing his words, the barest hint of skin underneath sending a thrill through you.

It’s either the alcohol or the need that pulses through you that drives you to do what you do next, but your hands slip underneath his cardigan, palms splayed over his chest as you feel around his electrifyingly warm chest.

Jay’s breath catches just slightly, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of your hands exploring his chest. The smirk from earlier is gone, replaced by something deeper, more intense and daring, as he watches you with hooded eyes. He doesn’t say a word, but the way he leans into your touch, his body instinctively pressing closer, speaks volumes.

His hands grip your waist tight, taking your exploration as mutual consent to feel one another. Even if he asked, you would have given him it in a heart beat. You need this man in more ways than you care to admit right now. Call it the vodka talking or your heart, you need this man.

The intensity between you builds, the space between you shrinking until there's nothing left but expectation. You’re close enough to see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flicker between your lips and your gaze, as though he’s searching for confirmation.

His hand moves from your waist to cradle your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your skin, sending a shiver through you. His breath mingles with yours, warm and steady, and before you realise it, you’re both leaning in, meeting in the softest, most tentative kiss - like a promise whispered against your lips. It’s gentle, exploring, with the hint of a smile on his lips as he pulls back just a fraction, eyes meeting yours as if to say, Is this okay?

You answer by closing the gap again, lips pressing against his, melting into the warmth of him. The kiss deepens, but neither of you rush; it's a slow, consuming pull that leaves you both breathless, savouring every second. His fingers slide into your hair, your hands still resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch as your nails dig in just enough to pinch him. Every shift between you is perfectly attuned to the other, until the world beyond the two of you fades completely, leaving only the feeling of being right here, lost in him.

The rhythm builds gradually, his lips parting slightly to fit with yours in a way that feels like a perfect match, every movement is crafted to fit yours. Your fingers curl against his chest, caught between pulling him closer and steadying yourself, and he responds by shifting his hand out of your hair and to the small of your back, tugging you flush against him. Each tilt of his head, every brush of his lips against yours, feels effortless but charged, growing warmer, more assured.

Eventually, you break away, both of you a little breathless, foreheads nearly touching as you stay close, neither willing to fully pull back. You look up into his eyes, dark and filled with a quiet intensity that mirrors the rush in your chest. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you murmur, “Do you want to go somewhere…quiet?”

Dosie and Yuki would hate you for this recklessness. But then they would also hate you for not at least trying to bag a man as fine as him so, you can’t really win, and no winner means endless roads to take - so you’re choosing the one that gets you laid.

Jay’s lips tug into a small, understanding smirk, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, dragging it down as you see him contemplate whether to kiss you or give you a verbal answer. But obviously, he’s a gentleman - at least for now - and just simply nods.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he breathes out, letting you pull him from the middle of the dance floor.

You have no idea where ‘somewhere quiet’ could possibly be in a club in the middle of the night on a Friday, but you’re determined to find it. All these passing moments without him on your lips are torture; now that you’ve had a taste, you don’t ever want to stop.

You spot a secluded nook tucked away from the pulsating lights and eyes of the clubgoers. The dim, almost non-existent lighting creates a sense of intimacy and secretiveness that beckons you both. As you manoeuvre through the throngs of bodies, your heart races with anticipation, each beat echoing the exhilarating moment.

Once you reach the corner, you take a moment to catch your breath, your back pressed against the cool wall, a slight rush of adrenaline coursing through you. Jay stands close, his presence magnetic, and you can feel the warmth radiating off him as he leans in, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“This works,” he murmurs, a playful smile playing on his lips. His gaze flickers down to your mouth, and you can’t help but feel a rush of heat as you lean into him, closing the gap that feels impossibly charged. His lips are more of an addiction than the sweet treats you help yourself to after every lunch break.

You reach up, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, relishing the feel of his soft skin against your fingertips. His breath hitches slightly at the contact, and you can sense the tension building, a heady mix of desire and uncertainty hanging in the air. As he tilts his head, giving you an inviting look, the moment feels suspended, filled with unspoken possibilities.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low and husky, laced with a hint of mischief. You nod, emboldened by the intoxication running through your veins and the undeniable chemistry crackling between you.

With a swift motion, he closes the distance, capturing your lips with his. The kiss ignites like a spark in the dark, deepening as he pulls you closer, the rest of the world slipping away. You lose yourself in the sensation, the taste of him simmering, sending electric thrills through your body.

The kiss intensifies, his breath hitching as your hands grip his neck, thumbs brushing softly over his adam’s apple. The sensation of your touch there sends chills all through his body, and he lets out a deep, throaty groan that vibrates against your lips, raw and hungry, almost desperate for all of you. It spurs something inside, making your pulse race as his hands slide down, settling firmly on your hips before curving around to your lower back, guiding you even closer.

He presses his hips against yours, his mouth on yours fierce and wanting, as if he can't get close enough, as if this kiss is just the beginning.

“Is it fucking awful for me to want to fuck you right now?” he laughs out into your mouth, the scent of his multiple Aperols brushing over your vodka-induced state. Is the question warranted? Yes, because it is silly to try and fuck a stranger in the back of a club. Will you tell him that? Of course not.

“It’s not,” you begin, pecking his lips multiple times just to keep his taste on your lips, “I think it’s actually perfectly acceptable.”

He genuinely laughs as he presses his forehead to yours. His hands wander, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, lingering at the line where your top meets your skirt. Each peck you steal from him seems to make his restraint fray, and you feel the muscles in his arms tense as he holds back, as if he's balancing on the edge of control.

"Perfectly acceptable, yeah?" he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your jaw, inching towards the hollow below your ear. He nips gently, his teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver, and then he kisses the spot softly, relishing in every second. The hand at your hip shifts, sliding over the curve of your backside, fingers splaying possessively, pulling you firmly against him. You can feel his heartbeat racing under your fingertips where they still rest at his neck, matching your own, quick and hungry.

"Good," he breathes out, his voice husky, a little breathless, "because I don’t think I could stop myself if I tried." His other hand threads into your hair, tilting your head back just enough to capture your lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more insistent. You lose yourself in it, the world spinning around you, each kiss adding fuel to the fire between you, every touch making it harder to remember that you’re standing in a club with the thrill of anyone discovering you at any moment.

Jay’s hands seem to trace their own path, gliding from your hips to your lower back, settling briefly before sliding even lower, each touch sending a thrill through you. His fingers drift to the hem of your skirt, teasing along the edge as if testing your boundaries, watching for your reaction. It’s important to him that you don’t just get caught up in the moment, each of his movements are deliberate in asking for consent.

When you don’t pull back, his fingers dip down, skimming along your bare thigh, igniting your skin. He’s barely holding back, you can tell, and it makes your pulse quicken, knowing that a man so beautiful could want you so badly. His gaze flickers up to meet yours, eyes heavy-lidded, his pupils dark with intent. He lets out a small groan, mouth parting as he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, slow and tantalising, as though savouring each second he’s got his hands on you.

“You really wanna let me fuck you in this place?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours with each word, his fingers inching a fraction higher. The grip he has on you is firm, almost possessive, and you feel him hold his breath, reining himself in, barely keeping his restraint intact until you tell him yes.

Your lips curl into a faint smile as you nip at his bottom lip, voice barely more than a murmur against his mouth. “I would let you do it in the middle of the floor if it meant I got to feel you.”

The last of his restraint crumbles. His fingers dip further beneath the hem, his hand sliding along the curve of your thigh, gripping you with enough urgency to leave no doubt about what he wants. The air between you thickens, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, everything around you melting away as you sink deeper into this reckless, exhilarating moment.

Finally, his fingers brush against the fabric of your underwear, and the sensation is electrifying, a mixture of thrill and pleasure that has you pressing your hips instinctively into his hand. His lips curve into a smile against your neck, feeling your reaction, enjoying every moment of it as he nudges the fabric aside. His fingertips glide over your skin, exploring, teasing, before slipping between your folds, finding you already warm and wanting.

God, you are so glad you didn’t wear your M&S granny panties tonight.

A low groan escapes him, and he shifts his body closer, pressing you against the wall to shield you from the view of others, his free hand bracing beside your head so you don’t wack it against the wall behind you. He’s right there yet the careful control of his movements leaves you on the edge, craving more. His fingers trace a slow, deliberate path, flicking over your clit before moving lower, entering you with a gentle push that has you gasping. He’s watching you closely, captivated by the way your eyes flutter shut, your lips parting in a soft moan as he begins to move.

He works his fingers in slow, rhythmic circles, each stroke drawing a new wave of pleasure through you, His other hand slips from the wall, finding your waist again, pulling you closer, urging your body to mould to his as he holds you in place. The rest of the club feels a world away - there’s nothing but his touch, the tension coiling tighter with each movement of his hand, the low hum of his breathing mixed with your own.

“You feel so good,” he whispers, his lips grazing your ear, voice roughened with desire. The sound sends a pulse of heat through you, your heart quickly matching the lust, and you can’t help but roll your hips in response, pushing yourself against his fingers, craving more of that delicious friction. He shifts slightly, angling his hand, and his thumb brushes over your clit in a gentle, teasing caress that has your knees buckling.

Jay senses it, his hand tightening on your waist, supporting you as he picks up the pace, his fingers moving with more purpose now, deeper, each thrust building you closer to that edge. The rhythm he sets is perfect, each stroke drawing a new sound from your lips, each touch sparking with pure desire. His name slips from you in a breathless whisper, more like a spiritual chant, and he lets out a soft, satisfied chuckle, clearly revelling in the effect he’s having on you.

“Just like that?” he murmurs, his voice a warm rumble that makes you tremble. His thumb moves again, circling over your clit with just the right pressure, and the sensation is overwhelming, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter within you. You don’t know if it’s possible, but if some thumbs on earth are soulmates to a specific clit, but you’re pretty sure you just found yours.

Your hands grip his shoulders, fingers digging in, clinging to him as he brings you closer to the peak, his fingers curling inside you, finding that spot that makes you gasp, your entire body tensing as waves of pleasure wash over you. You’ve had boyfriends that took years to find your perfect spot, yet this man found it in 0.02 seconds.

With your climax coming in a desperate rush, every nerve tingles and every breath is shallow as he drives you higher. But before you can hear that orchestra in your ears and feel that flutter in your chest, he withdraws his fingers.

The look in his eyes is unmistakable, dark with intent lust, and he swallows hard, his gaze flicking down to his fingers, seeing your essence covering them like a delicious glaze. “I can’t…” he starts, his voice rough, thick with desire. “I need you. Right now.”

Before you can register the rush of frustration and want building up inside, he’s lifting you, pressing your back against the wall, his hands as his hand roam every inch of you, obviously desperate. You taste his need, his hunger, in the way his lips move over yours, the way he presses into you as though he can’t get close enough.

Your heart races in excitement as you wrap your legs around his waist, his hands gripping your hips, positioning you exactly where he needs you. You have never fucked in a club before and you would scold any of your friends who did, but right now, all you care about is Jay.

And the feeling is mutual on your tango partner’s shoulders. Every ounce of restraint he had is gone now; nothing is holding him back as he lowers his mouth to your neck, murmuring words between breaths that are nearly incoherent but fill you with a thrill.

He shifts, undoing his belt and pushing down his jeans and boxers just enough that he can still pretend he’s clothed and not raise suspicion, his hips press into yours, and the anticipation is electric, his cock throbbing. “Ready?” he breathes, his eyes locking onto yours, waiting for the slightest nod that will shatter the last of the resistance between you, bringing you both into the heat of what’s been simmering throughout the night.

Your heart thuds wildly in your chest as you nod, feeling every nerve in your body poised, waiting and he holds you steady against the wall. He adjusts his grip, his hands sliding under your thighs, lifting you a little higher, and the way his body aligns with yours makes you feel like you’re floating - that could also be the alcohol but quite honestly, you might just be drunk on the idea of his cock right now rather than the vodka.

Then, in one fluid motion, he pushes forward, filling you completely, and a gasp slips from your lips, the sudden pleasure stealing the breath from your lungs. His jaw clenches as he feels you tighten around him, his grip on your hips firm as he holds you steady. He doesn’t move at first, just stays there, feeling every inch of you wrapped around him, as though grounding himself in the sensation. You’re easily the most perfect pussy he has ever had, he’s tempted to say that you’re made for him, and while his heart might feel that way, it’s far too soon to think it.

A shiver runs through you, the stretch of him catching you off guard, and you can see it in his eyes too - the struggle to keep himself in check, the restraint that’s quickly slipping away. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he lets out a low, guttural groan. “You feel…incredible,” he breathes, his voice cloaked in nothing but pure lust, with the potential for something else hidden in there. But your mind is lost in a forest of thick and long cocks, wishing you could have had a glimpse of it before he stuck it inside of you.

The first pull back and thrust is slow as he takes his time, savouring every second, while also trying not to get caught. But as he moves, each stroke becomes more intense and that careful control unravels quickly. His rhythm fastens, his body pressing into yours with a growing urgency that matches your own. You’re completely at his mercy, and he at yours, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you, building until you’re lost in it, your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close, pulling him deeper.

He kisses you hard, a collision of lips and teeth, both of you too consumed to slow down and make sure no one is watching. His hands roam over your body, fingers digging into your skin with a possessive edge as he moves faster, quick to claim you. It might not be the best spot to prove it, but he wants you to think about him for the rest of your life, each time you have someone else’s cock inside of you, you should just think about how his tip kisses your cervix and bumps against your pretty walls in the most delectable way. Although, with how he’s feeling right now, he will try and make sure that you never have another person inside you again, this spot reserved for him only now.

He breaks away from the kiss, his mouth moving down your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin, and you can feel him fighting to hold back, to make it last. The sounds between you - his heavy breathing, the low groans slipping from his lips, the soft moans you can’t hold back - create their own rhythm, blending with the thump of the club’s bass in the background.

He shifts slightly, angling his hips, and suddenly, he hits that spot deep within you, sending a shockwave of pleasure that makes you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He tightens his hold, pressing you harder against the wall, his rhythm relentless as he focuses on that spot, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Your body feels electrified, every nerve on fire as he pushes you closer and closer to release.

“Jay…fuck, right there,” you moan into his ear, tongue swiping over the shell of his ear.

“You’re driving me mad,” he mutters, his voice strained, breath coming in short gasps. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” But he doesn’t slow down; if anything, his movements become even faster, his need matching yours, both of you racing toward that peak, that release that feels so close, just out of reach.

And then, finally, you can’t hold back anymore. The pleasure curves in a wave that crashes through you, leaving you gasping, clinging to him as your body shudders with the intensity of it. Your core tightens and body stills, a contrast to the people around you who are mindlessly and drunkenly swaying to the beats. You have never been more thankful for people being blottered with booze.

Jay groans, feeling you tighten around him, and with a final thrust, he follows, his body tensing as he spills into you, his face buried in the curve of your neck, lost in his own release. The spurts of his seed fill you and it’s only then do you realise that no condom was involved. Normally, you would curse yourself out, the stupidity of the act more reckless than driving a gold buggy on the M8, yet, the hot glisten of his cum filling you up feels so right.

For a long moment, you both stay like that, pressed together, breathing hard, the world gradually coming back into focus. His grip loosens, and he leans back slightly, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he meets your gaze, a mix of satisfaction and warmth in his eyes. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, gentler this time, a quiet contrast to the urgency that had consumed you both moments ago.

With each of you staring at one another in wonder, the dawning of realisation that you just had sex in a grotty, overpacked club finally hits you both, you just laugh, and Jay follows, placing his head on your shoulder as his move up and down in amusement.

Gently, Jay helps you steady yourself as you find your feet, his arm around you as he watches you carefully, making sure you’re all right. As you both adjust, smoothing clothes and buckling belts, you scan the room to see across the dance floor, Dosie and Yuki are still dancing, blissfully unaware of your absence for what’s been at least two hours now. You snicker, nodding in their direction, and Jay follows your gaze, his smile widening as he takes in your friends, clearly oblivious to your escapades.

“Hey,” he says, pulling your attention back to him, his eyes bright with a glint of hope. “Do you, uh…wanna grab something to eat?”

You raise an eyebrow, amused, feeling that flutter in your chest at his sudden shift from club fling to something more. “Eat?”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. “I mean, might as well get to know each other considering I owe you a Plan B, and then maybe a coffee?” He trails off, eyes dropping with a hint of boyish embarrassment and hopefulness.

A laugh bubbles up, and you give him a playful nudge. “Alright, let’s grab a bite…maybe some condoms.”

Jay’s eyes light up at the prospect of more with you, not just physically, but getting to know you, to learn everything about you, to just be with you.

“Sure, let’s go.”

_____

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#enhypen smut #enha smut #jongseong smut #jay smut #park jongseong smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #aj writes #i also only named this after zayns song it's in the story lmaoo

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champagnefountains · 9 months ago

Text

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).

It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief).

Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.

Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.

So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud.

“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?”

“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan.

The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.

Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks.

“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.”

There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”

A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard.

“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!”

Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake.

“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.”

“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?”

For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.

If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.

“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.

“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on.

Earlier on:

On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.

You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.

Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement.

“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”

“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding.

"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.”

You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot.

“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes.

“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?”

Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!”

“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page.

“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.

“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.”

There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.

“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you.

Currently:

Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear.

After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.

After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him.

Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie.

“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–”

“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.

As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.

“Oh, fuck no!”

Chapter III - Finale [x]

Thank you for reading!

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar

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tf2heritageposts · 1 month ago

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tips for runaways of abusive families

from one who did that

note: this assumes you are 18+ or will be 18+ upon escaping, and also american, sorry

BEFORE YOU LEAVE:

get your insurance information, ESPECIALLY YOUR HEALTH INSURANCE. you can use it until you're 26

have your ssn memorized

make sure you have a decent amount of money saved up, dependent on your situation

have your method of transportation figured out beforehand. are you leaving the city? state? general area? country? get it planned out

if you are planning on taking your pet with you, make sure you have food stocked up with you and bottles of water. i would also reccomend bringing a 1ml kids syringe if you have the type of pet that will stop eating/drinking in stress situations. also bring a form of cover like an extra shirt or towel if it is an easily stressed pet. also make sure you have a carrier, and if you're going on a plane, make sure it is up to the standard of your plane, as well as making s ure your type of pet is allowed on the plane, especially if its an "exotic" pet, aka anything thats not a cat or dog

i also may recommend stocking up some food but depending on your situation this may not be needed

stock up on any medications you may have/need

don't give your family any form of information they could use to track you down in the future, especially if theyre the crazier types

make sure to change your passwords on any technology you may be leaving form and log out completely on them. make sure you have no files they could use to find you

DURING:

leave at a time where you're 100% sure nobody will catch you. if you have a family member that comes home late from work, know when they'll be back and asleep

turn off ANY location services you have after you're already away from the house, even if it alarms them. you don't want them to figire out where you are

wear a jacket with pockets, especially deep ones

make sure you have your wallet, forms of id, etc

get ready to run as fast as you can

if you're leaving the state, especially via plane, DO NOT IMMEDIATLY GO TO THE AIRPORT, THEY WILL CHECK THERE FIRST! go to a hotel and spend 1-3 days there while they exhaust their time and figure you already left. THEN you can go

stay calm while you're in the process of leaving. the moment you hit the air, they legally can't do anything

keep any critter you have calm, especially if they can suffer health problems from stress

have your hotels booked in advance

AFTER:

dont give your family your address if they try to talk to you

if you can really, cut them off entirely. chances are theyre not gonna change

get an air mattress as soon as you can, we used doordash for one

figure out how you will be paying finances. if you're living with someone, great, if not, you may have to post donation posts on social media until you can get a job

be happy you escaped, good job! most people won't be able to do this so im proud you were

#not a heritage post

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natailiatulls07 · 2 months ago

Text

New wag in the paddock

Summary - Being the newest wag in the paddock can be quite daunting but with the right people around you, it's all okay

Warning - None <3

A/n - Slowly easing back into writing?? We'll see lol

Walking into the paddock with beyond nerve racking, with photographers just inside of the entrance and fans just outside of the entrance - I had no where to hide or breathe.

Luckily walking alongside me with Rebecca Donaldson, Carlos' partner. Because of our partners friendship, we were close friends. She had become someone who'd help me and become like a sister to me in the paddock and even beyond.

This morning particularly she had come over to mine and Landos suite to help me get ready for my first paddock day just after him and Carlos had left. Helping with picking out a gorgeous dress, helping with my makeup and also my hair. Like my own fairy godmother in a way.

'Wow there's a lot of people here...' I whisper in her direction, my eyes took in the busyness of a Sunday morning race day paddock. Next to me, I feel her laugh - She's used to this.

With a soft nod and a slip of an arm round my back, Rebecca is quick to reply. 'Yep it's a race day in Miami, you'll get used to it...' I feel her gently pushing me along, prompiting me not to run back out and go back to the safety of the hotel.

It wasn't long before she dropped me off at the McLaren hospitality. Wishing me good luck with a hug and a warm smile before I stand pathically watching her leave me to defend for myself - Almost like a child would whilst being dropped off for their first day of school. In a sense, it was exactly that; I had been dropped off and know expected to make friends until someone I knew would come and safe me.

I breathe in, turn on my heel and walk quietly into the McLaren hospitality. Inside it's modern and high tech, obviously very well thought out. There are multiple seating areas, some small groups accompanying a couple. I can smell fresh coffee as I walk over to a small sofa, sitting there anxiously.

Opening my phone, I can already see multiple notification from various social platforms. I hazard a guess that they are mostly all gossip sites tagging me in their posts.

But one notification stands out to me.

It's on instagram, informing me that I've been added to a groupchat. More specifically a groupchat for the f1 wags. My heart warms at their consideration and kindness, so this is what it feels like to be in a big friendship group of girls.

Soon a few messages start to load into the chat;

lilymhe - Heyyy Y/n! Welcome to the group, this is a safe space for you always xx

francisca.cgomes - Yeah all the girls are in this group so we all gossip, vent and help out in here! Girls support girls obv <3

carmenmmundt - Hi sweetheart!

kellypiquet - Literally if you need anything, send a quick message here and we'll help always x

alexandrasaintmleux - Babes I just saw the photos, you look STUNNING!!! <333

I don't even the big smile that forms on my lips, the feeling of acceptance heavy on my mind. Accidently I don't notice the person in front of me until I hear a soft cough. Looking up I recogise Lando trainer, Jon, stood waiting patiently with a small smile. I gasp at my oblivion. 'Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! You haven't been stood there long, gosh how oblivious can I get?' I nervously ramble.

I've only met him a hand full of times and to keep him waiting felt very rude of me. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head, prompting me to breathe out a sigh of relief.

'No don't worry, I came to get you cause you're boyfriend wants to see you before the race starts...' He explains, watching as I quickly gather my things - I don't want to keep him waiting any longer. 'Hey, no need to rush...' He chuckles, sensing my nerves. It'd be hard not to.

Notable I slow down, no longer rushing to collect myself. I let out a soft sigh, a smile screwing itself onto my lips. And once I have everything, I let Jon lead the way through to Landos garage.

As soon as we walk into the garage, my eyes are immediately drawn to Lando who is stood talking to a few engineers. With his classic smile on his face, something I really do adore is watching as he talks about his job - He really does love it, possible more than me.

I stand there for a few seconds, not wanting to intrude on his conversation. Around me the team work around the garage, clearly buzzing with pre race excitement, nerves and preparation - Something Jon went along with when we arrived.

Then suddenly, I feel eyes on me and I notice Lando walking towards me enthusiastically. As soon as I am in arms reach, I feel his arms slip comfortably around my waist. 'Hi...' I smile, slipping my own arms around his neck. 'How are you doing?'

Lando takes a few seconds, just staring lovingly at me before smirking. 'Good, better now that you're here. How did this morning go? You and Rebecca get here alright?' He questioned, very grateful that I had someone to join this morning.

I nod keenly, moving on to explain about my morning as my hand start to play with some of his mullet. 'Oh I was added to the wag groupchat, they're all really nice people. They said that I can talk to them about anything and ask for advice you know. I've only really met Rebecca so they don't they even know me but they still like accept me, I thought that was the sweet thing ever...' Unintentionally I go onto ramble about the other wags befriending me, only really stopping when I notice his gaze and gentle warm smile. 'Sorry I'm rambling...'

Looking around us, I can see some engineers watching curiously. A mix of his gaze on me, my realization and the engineers watching all make me blush deeply. 'No it's okay...'

His british cuts through my thoughts, reassuring me. 'I'm really happy that you got them beside you, they know what you're going through a lot more than I will ever so that's great!' One of his hands moves up to caress my cheek lovingly.

A comfortable silence falls on us for a few seconds, before I speak up once again. 'So are you ready for the race today? Is the car good?' I ask, despite not really understanding the sport I'm desperate to learn through Lando.

He turns, watching as the engineers do their final preperations and work and nodding confidently. 'Yeah all good! I've got my good luck charm with me and the car is set to do magic today!' Even the way he explains everything, there is a lot of excitement in his voice. I nod, careful to take in all the information he's telling me.

Our conversation continues for a few more minutes before he's notified that he has to make a move to get the car out onto the track. Quick Lando turns back towards me, smiling and pulling me into a tender kiss. 'I love you! Wish me luck!'

I return the same energy and excitement. 'Good luck Lan! You've got this! I love you too!'

1.2K

#formula one #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #mclaren #mclaren x reader #rebecca donaldson #lily muni he #carmen mundt #kelly piquet #alexandra saint mleux #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris f1 #kika gomes

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withleeknow · 4 months ago

Text

moonstruck.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst if you squint; they're in love <3, mentions of menstruation, there's a bit about orpheus and eurydice so you're not familiar you might want to look it up beforehand idk, not as edited as i'd like. not a lot of warnings here tbh it's just pretty mild and mellow saur 🤷‍♀️ (also i don't exactly love this but i hope you'll still tolerate it anyway lol) word count: 4.7k playlist 🎧: moonstruck - enhypen // this is how you fall in love - jeremy zucker ft. chelsea cutler // pansy - taemin // tightrope - zayn

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

Minho is the kind of love that you thought only existed in movies and fairytales. Make-belief, too good to be true, out of reach.

When he rests his head on your shoulder, drifting in and out of sleep like he’s been doing for the past hour or so, you give into the urge to stare at him in wonder. An angel on earth, if there ever was one.

His long eyelashes that you could only dream to have, the slope of his nose, his pink pouty lips, his impeccably sharp jawline, and even his fluffy hair that’s ticking your cheek as you look at him as if you don’t get to see him like this every day. But that kind of beauty is something that demands to be showcased in the world’s most exquisite museum and admired by anyone who comes across it.

Minho is beautiful in every sense of the word.

And you adore him. You do. You love him with every single beat of your pathetic little heart and then some.

Surely, you must’ve saved a nation in one of your past lives to deserve someone as ethereal as him.

Turning your face to the side, you press a kiss against his forehead. The touch makes him stir awake, eyelids fluttering open as he groggily looks around and stretches out his limbs, in the limited space that he has anyway. His sleepy voice asks you, “Are we there yet?”

“Not yet. I think they said we still have about forty minutes before we land. Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Minho shakes his head, covering his mouth when a yawn forces its way out. He straightens his back to his full height sitting down, then slumps against the seat a little bit. He rests his cheek against the top of your head while his hands find one of your own to hold in his lap.

He rubs the skin of your fourth finger for a moment before he eventually stills, lightly snoring again while you look out the window, gazing at oddly shaped clouds and blues and the reflection of the sun on the waters below.

–

After you’ve checked into the hotel, freshened up and readied yourselves to explore the scenery, Minho takes you down to the beach. It’s a little chilly, spring hasn’t yet settled into summer. Even with a light jacket on, you still shiver every time the wind rushes by like it’s playing with the waters. But it’s nice – the sea breeze in your hair and the sunlight on your face, your lover by your side, his fingers intertwined with yours as you walk along the shore together. The blue of the sea almost blending in with the sky where they meet somewhere out there on the horizon. Seagulls flying overhead, families enjoying their relaxing vacation, children playing in the sand way down the shoreline where all you can make out are blurry silhouettes dancing about.

It’s paradise on earth. It’s an escape that you desperately needed. Exhilarated doesn’t even begin to describe how you felt when he told you that he’d booked a Jeju trip for your anniversary.

He’s always been the perfect partner. Always knows just the right thing to do for you whenever you need a pick-me-up. He may not seem like it, but Minho is beyond caring and considerate. He’s a man of few words but he certainly makes up for it with his actions.

“Hey,” he says, pointing somewhere ahead of you. “Remember what happened there?”

“Hmm?” Your eyes try to follow the direction of his finger, until they find a spot where two people are sitting, watching the water in front of them, content smiles passed between lips as they talk animatedly. “Didn’t you confess to me there?”

He smiles as the memory resurfaces in his mind. “Did you know I almost chickened out?”

You two started out as friends way before you got together.

Three years ago, just a few months after you’d both graduated from college, Minho asked you to go to Jeju island with him. You thought it was a little strange – though not that strange since you had been on trips with him before, but it was always in a group setting with all of your other friends. Never just the two of you.

Nonetheless, you agreed. You wanted to get out of the city anyway. You needed a change of scenery to clear your head and to recharge. Everything was starting to become too much for you - being 22 and in limbo. You felt like you kept falling behind no matter what you did. Everyone was moving forward and you were running in place no matter how hard you tried to get out of that slump.

Everyone around you was outgrowing you and your little life, and all you could do was pretend you were fine.

It was one of the lowest you’d ever felt, and you suppose that was why you said yes to Minho’s invitation. A vacation didn’t seem like it would help much, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

A few days away, with nothing but the sun and the sea to help you get out of your own head.

A tropical paradise and Minho. It wasn’t the end of the world. There were worse things you could think of.

That, and the fact that there had always been something between you and him. Not crazy sexual tension or anything, but just enough of a noticeable spark. An inkling of something that neither of you ever acted upon.

“Did you?” you ask. “Didn’t you plan the whole trip back then to confess?”

“What? No. Why would I willingly do that when you could’ve rejected me? Then I would’ve been stuck in a hotel with you and on the plane ride back.”

You squint at him. “Then why did you take me on that trip?”

Minho shrugs. “Friendship trip to cheer you up.”

Years with him and he still makes you feel as warm as he did the first time you kissed. You gaze at him with what must be the world’s most lovestruck look plastered on your face. You reach up to press your lips to the corner of his mouth, then watch as a blush spreads across his cheeks.

“You did confess though,” you argue.

“Well, yeah, but that wasn’t planned,” he tells you. “You just... We were sitting right there,” he tips his chin toward the same spot again, “and you had my jacket on because you were cold. You were watching the sunset and you looked so pretty. I couldn’t help it. Almost chickened out though.”

You stop walking, and this makes him stop too. Minho glances at you with his head slightly tilted, wearing a puzzled expression.

“You never told me that,” you say.

“You never asked.”

Pouting, you tug him toward you until he’s close enough for you to wrap your arms around his neck. Minho is good, so incredibly good for you that sometimes you can’t possibly fathom how you even deserve him. He never meant to get anything out of it; he just saw that you were struggling and wanted to make it better for you.

Maybe you didn’t do a very good job at pretending, not if Minho could see right through you.

Before him, you had a fear of heights. Not the literal kind, but rather the kind of heights that often accompanies big leaps, big changes. A fear of falling, maybe that would be more accurate. Falling and failing and hitting rock bottom with no way to climb back up. A fear that you would always be stuck with this life forever, trapped in an existence you never asked for. A fear that no effort to escape your reality would be enough, and you’ll always be trailing ten steps behind even if you try twenty times as hard.

You pull him down so you could properly kiss him, your lips slotting together perfectly like he was made for you, like he’s the only person you’re ever meant to kiss in this lifetime. You can taste his smile, minty and happy as he moves against your mouth, his arms sliding around your waist to hold you to his body by the small of your back.

“If I had known,” Minho pulls away slightly, mumbling against your lips, “telling you that would get me brownie points, I would’ve told you ages ago.”

You roll your eyes with affection.

“So all this time,“ he says, “you thought I asked you on that trip just to get into your pants?”

“You did get into my pants on that trip!”

“Let me remind you that I only wanted to do something nice for you. You were the one who almost jumped my bones right then and there after I said I liked you.”

You slap his chest as he throws his head back in a hearty laugh. Minho takes your hand in his once more as he drags you along, savoring the cool sea breeze and the golden daylight dancing on glittering waters before the sun bids you goodbye.

Minho is the kind of love that makes you want to curl up into a ball and ugly cry for an hour straight.

In a good way, of course. In the best way possible.

So that’s what you do, on a fine Tuesday afternoon, sitting on a couch surrounded by three cats as you wait for him to come home, perfectly sheltered from the harsh sun outside.

He returns eventually, toward the end of your crying session. When he sees the pile of tissues on the coffee table, soaked with your tears and snot, his heart nearly falls out of his ass.

Minho drops everything, rushing to you like you’re on the verge of spontaneous human combustion because clearly, this is a normal reaction to have when you come home to a girlfriend who’s been sobbing in the dark for god knows how long.

That, and the fact that said girlfriend doesn’t cry very often. Not by herself and certainly not in front of others.

Doesn’t mean that you’re immune to the occasional bouts of tears whenever shark week closes in, though.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Another rush of tears breaks as you look at him. You wipe your eyes and your nose with the tissue you’re currently holding, before throwing it on the table to join the pile you’ve accumulated.

You launch yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. The sudden force takes him aback, makes him gasp a little.

He freezes as you cling to him like a desperate koala, before his hands slowly land on your back, rubbing slowly, hesitantly, as though he’s afraid he’s hurting you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why are you crying?”

“PMS,“ you hiccup your answer out, to which Minho only responds with a relieved Ah, his hands now moving more assuredly on your body.

“Anything hurt? Sore?”

“No. Just… missed you today. Love you a lot.”

There’s something saccharine in his gaze when he pulls back and regards you with his big doe eyes, softened and endeared, yet there’s still a twinkle of mischief peeking through the sugary glaze.

He moves to make himself comfortable next to you on the couch but still makes sure to keep a hand on you so you don’t grow impatient.

Once he’s effectively squished between you and the armrest of the sofa, he says, “You missed me so much that you started crying? You could’ve texted me, or called. I would’ve come home sooner, crybaby.”

“I didn’t cry because I missed you. I cried because I love you.”

He pretends to think for a moment. “I honestly can’t tell if I should be offended or not.”

You jab a finger at his ribs.

Sure, the mere thought of Minho brings tears to your eyes sometimes. It’s not really a secret anymore.

There’s something about him, just him, how wonderful he is and how all of the stars in the sky must have aligned themselves to make you and him happen. He’s the love of your entire life, there’s never been any doubt about it. Your other half, perfect for you.

You’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and you’re positive that you will never feel this way about anyone ever again. Your love for him runs so deep, so powerful that it overwhelms you at times, drowns you in nothing but affection for him and only him. A love that spreads like wildfire through your calm and sacred forest.

It’s cliché beyond words, that one day you would be having these thoughts about someone. You used to watch this kind of sentiment romanticized in movies, used to cringe and laugh at sappy lines in books and TV shows though there was always a part of you that longed for that kind of love.

You didn’t talk about it often, not even with the people closest to you. You always found it a little embarrassing to admit that you wanted love. To love and to be loved. There was something so utterly vulnerable in the act of yearning and isn’t it such a scary thing? To be vulnerable? You never saw the appeal in showing someone the deepest, darkest parts of you.

What if they leave? What if you bare yourself to someone and they deem you not worth staying for? How would you come back from that kind of rejection?

You suppose it always held you back - the fear of being open that goes hand in hand with the fear of being left behind. Maybe you have more fears than you’d like to admit.

Then came Minho.

No, that doesn’t sound right.

He didn’t come crashing into your life like a tidal wave and unraveled your every belief.

He was always there by your side, a calming presence that you could lean on when things got tough. A friend, a solid foundation. He’s the relief after every monsoon, the first day of sun after a long and harsh winter.

He saw you for who you were, all the messiest parts of you, and loved you anyway. In spite of your mess? Because of your mess.

He taught you that love isn’t always extravagant gestures and grand declarations that Shakespeare would applaud.

Love is acceptance. Love is staying with you on your gloomiest days and holding your hand through your dreariest moments. Love is lingering glances by the doorway before he goes to work because you’re half asleep but you’re still trying to reach for him even in your dreams.

It’s sharing joys and burdens alike. Reminders to eat and gentle wake-up calls. A photo of you in his wallet, a silly picture of him as your phone’s wallpaper. Giggling with him after he tells a joke not because of the punchline itself, but because his manic chortle is even funnier.

Love is Minho cradling your face in one hand and holding onto your shaking fingers with the other, his steady gaze holding yours, and his voice whispering gently in the darkest of nights, “Your storm is my storm.”

At the end of the day, love is pretty simple. Love is him.

“Do you ever think about Orpheus and Eurydice?”

Minho laughs, the sound vibrating where you lay your head, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing the skin of your waist over your shirt. “No, I don’t think about Orpheus and Eurydice.”

You figured as much.

Your fingers trace invisible patterns on his chest as you hum your acknowledgment. Then you ask, “If it was me, if you were Orpheus, would you look back?”

His hands pause their ministrations, a little taken aback by the question you suppose. Your brain tends to pingpong between the most random things sometimes.

“You know,“ he says with an even voice, though the corner of his mouth still curls upward in amusement. “Other people just ask the worm thing.”

“The worm thing is boring. And we both know you wouldn’t love me if I was a worm.”

“You wouldn’t love me if I was a worm either.”

“That’s true. I don’t like worms,” you agree, chuckling while your boyfriend scoffs. “Answer the question, would you look back?”

There’s no right answer because you’re not expecting a correct response. It’s a hypothesis that can never be tested because you aren’t a nymph and Minho isn’t a bard with the ability to sway all life with his music. It’s a silly thought but it’s one that you’re curious about nonetheless, just to hear what he would say. Why not?

You’ve read many interpretations of the tragedy. In some, Orpheus hears Eurydice stumble and turns to catch her fall. In others, he can’t hear her at all. The story will forever be among your favorites, one of the things that never fails to turn you inside out no matter how many times you mull over it.

Minho is quiet for a moment. You think he’s about to shoot back with a witty retort that he always has up his sleeves, probably something about how he would find a loophole and trick his way out of the deal, or that he would personally fistfight Hades to get you out of the underworld. This wouldn’t surprise you at all.

Instead, he says, “Yes, I would look back.”

But regardless of how you choose to view the myth, the ending does not change. Orpheus always turns around.

He turns around because he loves her.

Minho’s fingers slip under your shirt to brush your bare skin, angling his head sideways so he could kiss your forehead.

Maybe he’s just saying it for the sake of being romantic, for the sake of saying what seems to be the right thing. It’s an answer that you can never give substance to, but you believe him with all your heart.

You believe him. You do.

“If it’s you, I would look back.”

Minho is the kind of love that eclipses the sun and dims the light of the moon. The kind of love that drowns out all the noise and makes everything a little more bearable. Not just the most horrible things – your fears and struggles alike – but even the smallest, most mundane things.

If there’s one thing that you absolutely hate, it’s the smell of nail polish. You hate the way it lingers in the air even after the bottle has been capped, hate how the smell of toluene stains your fingertips even after washing your hands several times with scented soap.

Though, the only time you try to tolerate it is when Minho convinces you to stay in and pamper each other. Pizzas that he picks up for dinner and tiramisu ice cream for dessert. Face masks and fancy candles that you save for special occasions. SoonDoongDori napping on various surfaces in your living room, an old vinyl playing from the record player he got you for your first birthday you shared together after you started dating.

You each take turns doing the other’s nails on the carpeted floor. It’s become somewhat of a tradition that you indulge in every month, where you would spend cozy Friday evenings indoors just because neither of you can be assed to indulge in a “proper“ date night. Being hermits together sounds infinitely more appealing to you than any other alternative.

“I’m not done,” you say, snatching Minho’s hand back after he pulls it away to admire your work. You blow on his fingers to make sure that the layer of black polish you applied earlier is dry, then you’re reaching for a bottle of beige polish sitting amongst the ones scattered on the floor. You take a tiny brush from the nail kit - one that’s rarely ever touched because neither of you knows how to do nail art - and dip it into the sand-colored polish.

“What are you doing?“ he asks, watching as you trace some squiggly lines on his middle finger, the lighter color settling nicely on top of the black even if he has no idea what you’re trying to draw. “What is that?”

“Soonie,” you say simply. “When you flip people off, you can show them Soonie.”

You don’t need to look at him to know that his attention is fixed on you even though he doesn’t give you a response. You feel his gaze on the side of your face, soft and warm and never leaving for even a second. He doesn’t say anything while you work though, maybe he doesn’t want to mess up your concentration while you’re so engrossed in what you’re doing. He only chuckles at your answer, then nothing afterward.

You don’t mind the lack of conversation. It helps you focus better on what you’re doing because you’re no artist by any means. You can’t draw to save your life, let alone master something as intricate as nail art, but this is therapeutic. It’s perfect to help you unwind after a long week - doodling your beloved cat on your boyfriend’s nails while Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls sets the ambience. You’ll get the ice cream when you’re done with your impromptu project, along with a little headache from inhaling too much of the polish scent perhaps, but isn’t that a small price to pay?

You take your sweet time with the teeny tiny details, like Soonie’s delicate whiskers and the darker strips of fur on his face. He still turns out a little wonky, a little lopsided here and there but it’s not like you expected it to turn out like a Picasso.

The real Soonie seems to sense a disturbance in the force when he wakes up from his nap and saunters toward you curiously. You pick him up and sit him in your lap so he doesn’t come too close to the fresh polish on Minho’s nails. “Look,” you say with a proud smile, pointing toward the small cat doodle. “That’s you.”

He studies it for a moment, focused on your portrayal of him but then he’s quick to decide that he’s not interested anymore before wiggling away from your lap to go join Doongie on the couch. You chuckle lightly, watching him as he walks off, wondering if this is what it will feel like when your future children enter their teenage years.

When you turn back to Minho, he’s still staring at you, a dazed look in his eyes as he blinks slowly, his hand resting limply on his thigh.

“What?” you ask. “Do you not like–”

“Marry me.”

The rest of your question dies in your throat, wilting away like cherry blossoms when summer nears. He doesn’t break eye contact, still that dreamy gaze when he peers at you. Nothing has ever changed in the way that he looks at you.

For a moment, you’re too stunned to speak. You think anyone would be when their boyfriend drops a proposal out of nowhere while you’re doing each other’s nails in your comfiest sweatpants.

Everything that you’ve been afraid of comes bubbling to the surface, every doubt, every fear, even every fleeting insecurity. They manifest as a ringing in your ears, a buzzing in your head that makes it hard to think about anything at all.

But then he shuffles closer, closer and closer until his warm breath fans your cheek, his nose nudging your cheekbone gently. It’s similar to what Doongie does sometimes when you’re lounging in bed and he just wants some love.

When Minho takes your hand and laces your fingers together in his lap, everything stills. The rumbling comes to a halt, the distant thunder fading slowly into the background of your mind palace until it’s reduced to mere white noise. “Marry me,“ he says again, and his voice is so tender that you ache. Tender and sweet and so full of wonderful adoration. If you ever have to describe what love sounds like, you would say it’s him and his voice, right here and right in this exact moment.

“A little dramatic to propose just because I drew your cat.”

He chuckles, presses a kiss to your cheek before he ducks down to deliver another kiss on the side of your neck. Then he pulls back, just enough to get a clear view of you and your now glassy eyes.

“Bottom drawer in our bedroom,” he tells you. You can’t lie; you have half a mind to leave him here and go check. “I bought the ring two months ago, but I knew I wanted to marry you two years before that. I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to do it but I realized the perfect moment doesn’t exist, because every minute I spend with you is perfect. I love you so much. It’s not because you drew me my cat, by the way. I think I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you.

“I love your weird brain and your blanket-hogging ass. I love that you’re crazy enough to listen to a song literally over a thousand times without getting bored. I even love you when you set ten alarms in the morning and still manage to sleep through all of them. I know you hate your smile but it’s my favorite smile in the world. Did you know my favorite color is the color of your eyes? The best part of my day is when I get to come home to you and the kids waiting for me. I want all of you forever. I promise I’ll love you twice as much on days that you don’t love yourself. When we’re old and gray and we look like raisins, I’ll let you go first so you won’t have to spend a single day alone. I’ll–” He stops when you let out a teary giggle, no bite in his voice at all when he says, “Please don’t laugh at me during my big romantic speech.”

It only makes you laugh harder, though it’s just as emotional. If you focus on the other part of his sentence, you’ll only crumble into a million pieces right here. “How very romantic of you to include the visual of us as raisins in your speech.”

Minho rolls his eyes – fondly, of course. When he pretends to squirm away from you, you tug him back by the collar of his shirt to plant an apologetic kiss on his lips which he eagerly accepts.

“Please continue,” you say, smiling against his mouth. “Tell me all the ways that you’ll love me.”

“You ruined it. I retract my proposal,” he grumbles, but his arms betray his words when they tighten around your frame, holding you close to him to steal another kiss. Then another, and another, until your faces are wet with tears and you realize that you’re both crying.

“I’m sorry,” you say through sniffles and tears. “Please keep going.”

“Make it up to me first.”

“How?”

“Marry me,” he repeats a final time. “I’ll give you a better speech on our wedding day.”

Years and years from now, when you’re old and gray and look like raisins – as he so poetically put it – you’ll remember this moment down to every miniscule detail. How the cats’ peace is disturbed by your tearful giggles and the strange look they give you before wandering out of the room, in favor of somewhere without two crying idiots. How the record starts skipping but neither of you can be bothered to do anything about the obnoxious sound. How the material of his shirt feels when you bunch the fabric in your hands because you need to kiss him, need him to be as close as humanly possible.

You’ll remember the sob that he hiccups when you tell him through choked up whispers, “Yes, I’ll marry you,” and how his lips feel when they tremble against your skin. You’ll remember the way he holds onto you like a lifeline, because he’s always been your salvation for as long as you’ve known him. You’ll remember what happens after, later that night when he finally slips the ring onto your finger. The words he whispers into the crook of your neck, “You mean the world to me,” and the emotions in his voice when you both realize this is the start of the rest of forever.

You’ll remember everything, all of it, every clumsy touch and every graceless kiss. Ugly crying on the floor and yet, it’s more perfect than anything you can ever dream of.

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eroselless · 7 months ago

Text

I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME

Summary: You and Lando need to talk after what transpired on the car ride to the hotel. What will you both decide? [2.5k]

[lando norris x reader ]

MASTERLIST | Part 1 - LAY UR HANDS ON ME

Warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut, unprotected sex, oral, missionary

Note: Thank you all so much for the love, support and patience! I wanted it to be spicy but also a little soft, I hope it comes off that way. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3 I hope it's alright that I tagged everyone who commented on part 1! Happy reading, love you all!

The tension in the air is palpable. It’s fog clinging to the morning air, waiting to dissipate. It’s a sink threatening to overflow, every passing moment teetering closer to the edge of chaos. It’s a champagne bottle, waiting for just the right push to pop. Lando stands with his back to the hotel door as you stand in front of your bed, fidgeting with your fingers. The silence in the elevator and the walk to the room is almost frightening. The adrenaline from the car ride had slowly faded as you stood, frozen in place. Your palms feel sweaty, your heart pounding in your chest. You both stand in the limbo of uncertainty’s clutch.

“What if we just –”

“We can pret –”

Your words collide in the air, an awkward and strained laugh escaping the both of you. Doubt begins to gnaw at your mind, maybe he’s regretting it? You wonder. Maybe he was in need of some release and you happened to give it to him.

“If you want,” you begin tentatively, voice barely above a whisper. “We can pretend this never happened.”

Lando takes in a sharp breath, nodding. He shifts from foot to foot, bottom lip curled between his teeth as he nervously bites into it. He blinks, eyes watering. His chest begins to tighten up and he feels like he could break down then and there. Maybe in the spur of the moment, his lapse of judgment was the final straw that broke the camel's back and you’re eager to forget about the eventful ride over.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, sitting down on his bed. His voice is quiet, barely audible as he twists his fingers in his hands. He can’t bring himself to meet your eyes and stares down at your shoes.

A heavy silence envelops the room, and for a moment, the world seems to hold its breath, anticipation building in the man who sits before you. Blinking the tears that had snuck into your eyes, you shake your head. Your chest feels heavy as you answer him.

“No.”

The single word cuts through the air like a knife and hands there for a second. Time stands still for a moment as Lando’s head whips up to look at you. Time crashes down over you as he collides with you.

You weren’t quite sure of what you expected from your first kiss with Lando yet as his lips brushed with yours you couldn’t help but be struck by how perfect his lips felt on yours. His hands are cradling your cheeks, fingers pressing lightly into your skin as if he’s scared he’ll shatter you like fine porcelain. There is a delicate urgency in how his lips dance over yours. Years upon years of longing rising to the surface of your skin. His tongue slips past your lips, he can taste the remnants of the wine from earlier, a mixture of desire and indulgence.

His hands move with a purpose, one gently placed at the joint of your jaw, a possessive gesture that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins. The other rests firmly on the small of your back, pushing you closer with a quiet promise of ecstasy to come. He nudges your chin up with his hand, moving slowly and carefully.

He pulls away, eyes droopy and half-lidded with desire. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. You’re both heaving as you stand in the middle of the room, taking a moment to admire one another. The youthfulness and beauty of his face are so much more evident up close. It's nothing short of captivating. You had always thought he was handsome but now you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You can count the freckles scattered on his sun-kissed skin, the speckles of colour in his eyes are like shards of glass and his long lashes frame them beautifully.

His hands fall from your face, sliding down and behind your shoulders. “Turn around,” he says. You comply, moving to face the other way. His hands move over the expanse of your back and you get a flashback to the moment you sat in his lap, just under 15 minutes ago. His breath is fanning on your back, a familiar chill surging through your body again.

His fingers land on the zipper of your dress, tugging on it as he asks for your permission to take it off. You nod, collecting your hair to one side. He pulls the zip down, fingers dragging lightly over the increasingly exposed skin. He presses his mouth tenderly to your spine, pulling a shaky breath from your lips. He pushes the straps of your dress off your shoulders, sending the fabric to the floor. It leaves you standing in your underwear, having foregone a bra. You turn around to face him, eyes scanning his face once again.

His lips find their way to your jaw, nipping lightly at it. You push his blazer from his shoulders, moving to unbutton his crisp white shirt.

He shoves you lightly but with enough force to send you falling back onto the bed. He can’t help but admire you as you lay there. Your hair is out in a halo around your head and you're propping yourself up on your elbows, eyes wide as you gaze up at him.

He pulls his trousers off and you can see the shape of his cock through his boxers. Lowering himself on top of you, he litters kisses over your chest, lips coming to wrap around a pebbled nipple. You arch your back slightly at the feeling of his lips over the sensitive bud. Your hand goes to his hair, threading through it as he pushes his face further into the plushness of your tit. His other hand is snaking down your body, snapping the waistband of your underwear.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he moves down, sitting back on his knees. He pulls a leg up over his shoulder, beginning to trail kisses from your ankle to your knee. Your skin is soft and warm, goosebumps starting to bloom over it.

You’re nervous as he makes his way up your thigh, teeth teasingly dipping into the soft skin. You let out a gasp as he does so, moving his lips to your other leg. In an instant, he’s back at the top of your leg, at the junction where they meet. He kisses the damp fabric of your underwear, eyes peering up at you.

“Can I take these off?” He asks innocently. You hesitate, heart threatening to pop out of your chest. You nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. His fingers hook around your underwear, pulling them down swiftly. Your knees come together on instinct.

He lets out a small chuckle, moving onto the floor in front of the bed. He pulls you to the edge by the crook of your knees, pressing a kiss to each one.

“I want a taste.” He hums, only causing your heart to beat faster. His hands move up to take hold of your hips, pressing his cheek to your knees as if to ask are you ready? He waits until you’ve given him a small yet decisive yes before gently pulling your legs open. He goes straight to your sex, pressing his lips to your folds before spreading them open, making a v with his fingers. He teases you, letting out a single soft puff. His tongue darts out, dragging over the sensitive flesh but not over the part where you need him most. This causes your hips to buck up, aching for more of his touch. He continues, now plunging his tongue inside you.

“Fuck –” you moan out, body beginning to tremble with need as he shoves his face even closer. Your fingers pull harshly at his hair as he flicks his tongue expertly at your hole, his groan sending vibrations through your body. His fingers grip tight at your hips, grounding you in place. He sends a red-hot feeling through you as he fucks the muscle into you steadily. It pokes into a spongy, sensitive spot within you. He pulls away, blowing gently at the wet skin.

“God, baby. You taste so fucking good.”

He slips a finger in, thumb moving in careful circles over your clit, eliciting more moans from you. A smile is playing on his lips, as you feel yourself teetering towards the edge, a coil tightening in your gut. You cry out, a wave of pleasure washing over you. Your hips are bucking and your legs try to close around his head.

He doesn’t stop licking and sucking at you, easing you down from your orgasm. Your chest heaves and you shake breathlessly. He pulls away, his face glistening with your juices. His eyes sparkle with lust as he presses his lips one more time to the skin of your thigh. It’s a look you’d only imagined in your mind.

He stands over you, admiring how you look with your cheeks flushed and a light layer of sweat on your skin. Your chest is rising up and down quickly as you come down from your high. You’re staring up at him, eyes hazy and lips parted. You look ethereal, a piece of art hanging in a museum, the image of perfection.

Regaining your breath, your hands work on Lando’s boxers, pulling them down and letting his cock spring free. It taps lightly at his stomach, a bead of pre-cum on the red angry tip. You wrap a hand around it, thumb going to run over the crease of the head. Lando hisses and shakes his head at you begin to jerk your hand. His voice is strained as he tells you no.

“Not tonight,” he says, tongue heavy in his mouth. “Just need to be inside you.”

You nod, moving up the bed, into its centre. He crawls over you, showering your body with kisses as he does so. A kiss right over your pubic bone, one on your ribcage and the last one over the corner of your mouth.

He stares into your eyes as he pushes in, bottom lip trapped between his teeth to keep him quiet. He fills you in a single movement, one powerful thrust. Your breath hitches as he does so, lips forming a tight o. You can feel his cock hit you just at the right spot, the pleasure making your eyes roll back. The squeeze of your cunt around his cock was better than Lando could have imagined.

He’s pushing your knees up and wrapping your legs around his waist as he starts a slow grind. He rolls into you, pushing deeper and deeper as he goes. He feels so good, it’s almost unbearable. You’re completely at his mercy, his touch spreading fires in you, wherever it goes.

You're writhing beneath him as he kisses you. His tongue is darting into your mouth, stealing your breath away.

“You’re so pretty like this, baby” he says over the sound of himself sliding in and out of you with ease. The sound is slick and wet, it’s filthy yet it only makes you fall deeper into pleasure’s embrace. Your body molds perfectly into him and you find yourself wondering how you’d never noticed that before. All those times when he held you, when you held him. There were so many signs and you were both oblivious to them.

He pushes down on your lower tummy and it presses something deeper within you. It pulls a whine from your lips as your hands find purchase on Lando’s shoulder, pulling him down so you’re almost chest to chest.

“You’re doing so good for me” he mumbles, lips against the shell of your ear. You clench around him, the words only spurring you on. He continues to fuck you into the mattress, stroking your walls just right.

“Lan, I –” you begin to say. The buildup is getting too much as you feel yourself swing closer to your climax. Lando can feel it too. The spasming of your body, the slight arch of your back. The air is knocked out of your chest as the moment hits, pleasure crashing over you. His name falls from your lips like a mantra and he only pushes faster. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you now. He thrusts into you one last time before he tips over the edge, losing himself then and there.

You feel him let out a gasp as he collapses over you in a sweaty mess. His body is heavy laying on top of yours but it isn’t uncomfortable. His skin is sticky and his breath fans over your neck. You’re both breathing heavily as the energy in the room begins to diminish. Your hand goes to thread through his unruly curls as he peppers light kisses to the column of your throat.

He gets up after a few minutes, telling you to sit still as he does. He returns with a towel, gently cleaning up the mess you’ve made together. He tosses it away and crawls back towards you, pulling the cover over the top of your bodies.

He stills against you, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, mind only filled with thoughts of you. He can only really think of how flawlessly you fit together. Or the feeling of how delicious you feel pressed up against him.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to make a move,” he says, peering up at you. You smile, shaking your head. “And I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner.”

You both carry on there for a second, his cheek now pressed to your chest. His eyes have begun to flutter close as the gentle sound of your breathing slowly lulls him to sleep. His fingers are softly tracing circles on your ribcage where he holds you. There are no words exchanged between the two of you but there’s so much said in the silence as you cling to each other.

“Lan..” you whisper, voice soft. He hummed in response, squeezing you. You nibbled your lip nervously as the words waited in your mouth.

“I love you.” his fingers stop in their tracks. He let out a gentle, barely audible chuckle. You’re unsure of what his reaction is. He rises to his elbows and bounces slightly on the mattress, pressing a kiss to your stomach.

“Say it again,” he whispers, voice husky. His fingers are now prodding at your side and you let out bouts of laughter as he does.

“I love you.” he nips at the soft skin of your neck, evoking a laugh out of you. His energy seems renewed as his lips continue their dance over your skin and he gradually makes his way up to your face.

“I love you too,” he says, his smile wide, pulling you on top of him. “And I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

@noneofyourfbusinessworld

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@idontcare011

@mylifeislikecandycanes

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris

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soobnny · 4 months ago

Text

There is love on stage, and there is love in the background.

Or in other words, Hwang Hyunjin holds you in the quiet of his hotel room.

There’s gentle rain outside.

The pitter patter’s something that brings sound to his hotel room, save for the background noise of your barely volumed television.

Hyunjin is quiet beside you—not the awkward kind of silence that follows an argument, but comfortable. Like you could stay here for a few more hours and a day, and he wouldn’t complain.

This is his favorite way to be with you, he thinks.

With his bare feet tucked under your thighs, and your head falling limp on his shoulder, and the quiet on the couch where secrets and stories have been shared before.

It’s good to have you so close to him like this after one of the most fulfilling stages he’s ever performed on. Hyunjin thinks his heart couldn’t be any more full.

There was love on the stage hours ago with his fans, and there is also love in the background right now. With you. With only you.

You lift your head up when you feel his eyes on you, your eyes flash with something curious. His with something romantic.

“What?,” you ask, doe-eyed and a little puzzled.

“What?” he repeats the question, as if he wasn’t just caught staring at you.

There’s a smile on his face that tells you he knows the answer to your question, that fresh and plump and dewy smile with his dough cheeks. He’s playing innocent.

“You were looking.”

“Hmm, was I?”

Hyunjin leans down to peck your nose, before joining your lips together, and the giggle that escapes your mouth echoes more through his mind than in the air. Pretty and sweet and warm. You sound like someone from a romance novel.

“I think I’ll keep looking.” He whispers, and the fond smile you send him after kissing him makes his exhale audible. You can almost hear his blood rushing.

Crappy television is playing in the background, the type that only airs at 3am. Though, no one’s particularly paying attention. And you think Hyunjin should be sleeping from the way his eyes hood over, but he’s made it clear he doesn’t want to untangle from you.

At least, not yet. Not when he was starting to feel fumbly with the abundance of love he holds for you, not when he wants to hold you close like this the way he hasn’t been able to for a while.

His thumbs caress your waist, and your arm, and your neck, and any skin he can get his hands on. And every other second, he’d pull you close for the purpose of scattering a few kisses over your face.

This is the only way he can spend time with you amidst his hectic schedules.

You don’t mind.

He doesn’t either.

This isn’t something he gets to experience everyday, not when he’s busy the way that he is. Majority of him hopes he’ll remember exactly how this feels when he wakes up in the morning. And that he’ll have more moments like these with you.

“I love you, you know that right?” He feels the need to ask.

“I do. I love you too, you know that too, right?” You respond.

He hums.

There’s gentle rain outside, the pitter patter blending effortlessly with the way his heart beats. The two of you stay there for longer than necessary, and even longer when you fall asleep this way.

Hyunjin remains thankful for the rain, and the eventual sun rising, and the singing birds on the windowsill that greet him the moment he wakes up. Nevermind the way his body aches or the strained way his neck feels.

There is nothing that matters more to him than the quiet snores and the gentle inhale and exhale and the love that exists in his quiet hotel room.

He’ll stay even longer, he thinks.

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menagerofmischief · 1 month ago

Note

shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri

Dia's Diner Menu

shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare

Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader

TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping

WC: 2k

A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.

Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.

Why was this the worst night of my life?

We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off.

“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”

I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”

She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”

Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”

Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”

The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”

“It’s fine just put me in a -”

“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”

Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.

Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.

We have hated each other ever since.

“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.

“What!?”

Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”

✿ ✿ ✿

“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.

“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”

“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Shame it’s not fatal.”

✿ ✿ ✿

This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.

With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.

One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.

I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.

I came to a realization about three things, so goes:

Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.

He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.

He was grinding his very much hard cock into me - in his sleep.

My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.

I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.

I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.

The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.

A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.

He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”

The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”

“Wasn’t,” I whispered.

“What was that?” He growled into my ear.

“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.

His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”

Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.

I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.

I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”

In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare.

Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.

“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”

I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”

His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.

Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”

I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.

He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.

“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.

“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.

I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”

“That was one time!”

I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”

Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.

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incognit0slut · 9 months ago

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Sweet agony

After a tragic event, you believed you were unworthy of love. Spencer decided to prove you wrong.

warnings: (MINORS DNI!) fem reader, angst, explicit smut including fingering, unprotected sex

word count: around 3k

a/n: I did a poll the other day about writing angst with a sad or happy ending, most of you wanted a happy one. This is also written for @imagining-in-the-margins New Beginnings writing challenge.

"WHY CAN’T I LOVE YOU?"

The room held its breath as you met his gaze. You observed the glaze in his eyes, the tension in his muscles, and the subtle bobbing of his Adam's apple. The weight of unspoken truth hung heavy in the air, but instead of facing the question, you were surrendering to a different impulse.

Guilt and desire intertwined as you pushed him onto the mattress, letting the chaos in your mind take over. His body yielded to the unexpected force, and for a fleeting moment, you drowned out the unanswered question that lingered like a ghost.

Stress relief. Distraction. No strings attached.

That was what you agreed upon the first time you called him into your hotel room. What went on inside your head that night was a blur. But what stuck with you was the pain—not physical, but a lingering ache that your body still remembered from the way it bled tragically.

Working in law enforcement always came with risks, but being held captive and almost losing your life wasn't something you expected. The memories of the Unsub's touch on your skin, the scar he left behind, continued to churn bile in your throat even months after the tragedy. The repulsive was so strong you needed something else to distract you.

You needed someone else to distract you.

"Don't be gentle," was what you told him after you kissed him for the first time. The shock in his eyes was unmistakable—perhaps it was the rush of you making the move, or maybe it was the unspoken weight in your voice. Questions lingered in his gaze, a curiosity that always surfaced, but you knew how to silence him every time he opened his mouth.

Kiss his neck. Touch his skin. Grind your hips. Tell him how much you want to be ruined.

He hesitated initially, uncertainty clouding his expression, but eventually, he gave in because saying no to you seemed impossible. Despite convincing yourself that he was satisfied with this purely physical arrangement, you couldn't escape the undeniable truth. The hurtful look on his face lingered vividly in your mind after your first night together.

He had reached for you, and you backed away, flinching from his touch. It seemed cruel to deny him in one aspect while satisfying him in another, yet you craved the pain. And despite knowing that using sex as a coping mechanism wasn't the healthiest choice, or how denying his affection hurt him, he still came whenever you called.

He obliged to your needs without fail. He was at your mercy, caught in the complicated web of desire and restraint.

However, tonight was different. You told him to slip into your hotel room around midnight, the usual time you agreed to avoid any prying eyes. He came, as he always did, but there was something distinct in his posture. His eyes carried a deep pain, and when he spoke, you realized you could no longer avoid the inevitable.

"I can't keep doing this," he admitted, his voice breaking when you pulled him towards the bed.

Guilt swept through you but you couldn't stop yourself from throwing your arms around his neck. Instead of offering an explanation, you remained silent, your lips inches away from his.

"Why won't you let me in?"

He looked at you, eyes filled with a mix of longing and confusion, and the next question escaped his lips like a plea.

"Why can't I love you?"

His body yielded to the unexpected force as you pushed him onto the bed, crawling on top of him. The weight of the moment pressed upon your heart, a heavy ache that mirrored the confusion etched on his face. His eyes, wide and stained with tears, bore into yours. You couldn't escape the reflection of your own glistening eyes, tears threatening to betray the emotions you tried to suppress.

Shaking away the tears, you pressed your body against him and shut your eyes until you felt his soft lips against yours. The softest lips, with the most careful movements, had you moaning into the kiss. The softest lips that had you gripping his shirt in desperation. Those soft, soft lips melded seamlessly with your own, creating a sensation that electrified every nerve in your body.

You had never questioned your state of mind, but this feeling right now, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, was too much to handle. It was confusing and consuming your mind how agony could taste so terribly sweet.

As if sensing your internal struggle, he gently eased your body onto the bed next to him, taking it upon himself to undress you. You quietly watched as he slipped you off your clothes, noticing the way his breath quickened when you were completely bare before him, exposed, vulnerable. His eyes swept along your naked body as he settled back beside you.

The moment you felt his fingers brush your inner thigh, your senses went haywire. Every time he touched you, your body came alive with a burning hot desire. Every time his fingers brushed your skin, electricity surged through each limb.

A gasp fell out your lips when his fingers slipped down your slit and ever so slightly you rolled your hips, begging for more without words. He wasted no time, giving you exactly what you needed as his fingers moved up and down your folds, working you up further.

His fingers finally found your clit and you gripped the bedsheets, feeling his touch ease over your delicate areas with care. He started slowly, massaging small circles into your wet flesh and you gave in the pleasure, warmth bursting throughout your body without warning. Your head fell back, thighs clasping around his hand, and you rolled your hips—whimpering, moaning, so breathless all at once.

He then buried his face in your neck and you felt his warm breath against your skin. His lips trailed down to your shoulder, soft and slow, and when his stubbled cheek brushed against your pebbled nipple, you let out another moan. He tipped his head up, swiping his tongue against it before giving it a slick suck.

You couldn't help but bury your hand in his hair at the sensation. He grunted his approval, opening his mouth just a touch wider and drawing your breast into his mouth. He leaned back with a suck, gaze heavy on yours as his tongue swiped across your nipple at the same time two of his fingers slid into your wet cunt.

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as your legs fell apart even further. This was why you seek him. He could make you forget everything. In his arms, you could forget the weight of your worries, the complexities of your emotions, and the tangled web of desires and regrets that plagued your mind.

You were sure he felt the same way too. Despite the weight of his previous questions, they seemed to fade into the background, his focus shifted entirely to showering you with pleasure. His fingers began to work faster, drawing out every filthy sound from your body. It didn't take long until you couldn't hold back any longer.

His fingers began working in and out of your tightening walls once again just as his tongue flicked over your nipple. Your eyes screw shut until you were seeing white dots behind your lids while he continued to thrusts his fingers inside you. You were uncontrollably shaking as you took one final, deep breath before the pleasure consumed your entire body.

His name hovered on the tip of your tongue. Calling him Spencer felt too intimate, but calling him Reid felt distant, like a stranger's name upon your lips. In the end, you opted for neither, allowing your pleasure to be voiced through the raw intensity of your moan.

His response was immediate. He pulled his fingers away from your drenched heat but continued to work against your clit. The intensity of the moment consumed you, leaving you breathless as he gave you exactly what you wanted, testing your limits until you could hardly take it anymore and pushed his hand away.

When he finally pulled away from your body, a wave of dizziness washed over you, leaving you reeling in the aftermath of your orgasm. His lips lingered on your breast one last time before he slowly sat up. He started to peel off his clothes, piece by piece, each motion deliberate and unhurried. Your eyes flickered at the way his muscles tensed and flexed with each movement.

His physique wasn't exactly muscular, but the hard outlines of his body still captivated you. Your eyes drank in the sight of him, lingering on the way his chest rose and fell with the quickening pace of his breath, before trailing down the soft expanse of his stomach, tracing the tantalizing trail of hair that led further south.

It was right at this moment you would've pushed him onto his back like you always did, reveling in the thrill of being the one in control. Or sometimes you preferred him taking you from behind so he could pull your hair as he fucked you senselessly.

But tonight you were so captivated by him that when he slipped himself between your thighs, you didn't resist. Instead, you welcomed his proximity, the heat of his body melding seamlessly with your own. You also didn't protest when he pushed his cock inside of your heat, stretching you out, because the sensation had you whimpering and you found yourself holding onto his shoulders.

His motions were slow and gentle. He was careful as if he was still scared of doing something wrong even though this wasn’t your first time with him, but he took his time to enjoy the feeling of your walls clenching around him. And suddenly you wanted to submit to him, you gave in to him completely, letting him take over you entirely as he rocked his hips into you over and over.

He then grabbed onto one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder. You gasped as he pushed deeper in this position. He pulled away as he focused on the way his cock slid out of your wet cunt, leaving just the tip around your swollen lips, before thrusting into you again. He exhaled the heaviest breath when you clenched around him so tight that he couldn't help but dig his nails into the soft flesh of your thigh.

Heat flooded every inch of you each time he thrust into you, the tension coiled tighter as you tossed your head back. His eyes trailed between your connected bodies, watching the way his length moved inside you effortlessly with the way your arousal coated him.

"Y-You're so wet," he couldn't help but groan, and you could hear the slick noise as he thrust his cock into your dripping walls over and over again. "God, you feel so good."

His words had you sitting up as you prompted your weight on your elbows, your eyes falling onto the way his cock disappeared inside you. You whimpered when he snapped his hips harshly, burying himself deeper and deeper from each of his thrusts before he picked up his pace. Surges of warmth began to course through you and you couldn't suppress your desperate moans.

And when you could barely stand the pleasure any more, he suddenly pulled your leg off his shoulder before wrapping it around his waist. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, holding you in place while he ruthlessly thrust in and out of you. Your mouth fell open as you were taken aback by his sudden pace, your eyes instinctively glancing over to meet his gaze.

His face hovered close to yours, the beads of sweat glistening against his skin. A furrow creased his brow, and despite the intensity of his movements, there was a raw vulnerability in those warm brown eyes that held you captive, drawing you in with their depth and intensity.

The pleasure and sensation washed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf your senses as his gaze bore into yours. The more he looked at you, the more overwhelming the sensations became, until finally, in a moment of pure ecstasy, his name slipped past your lips for the first time.

"Spencer," you breathed, the sound barely more than a whisper, but he heard you clearly.

His gaze softened as he listened to you. He listened to your body, the way you tightened around his length, the way you moaned and huffed each time he thrust at the right spot. And because your gaze held an intensity he had never seen before, he couldn't help but utter the three words he had been keeping to himself all along.

"I love you," he whispered, the words escaping his lips in a breathless rush.

Warmth spread in your chest and you finally snapped. Your back arched off the bed, nails digging into his arm, and your legs wrapped tight around his waist, taking every long, deep thrust of his cock until a final gasp spilled from your lips.

As the pleasure bubbled and erupted between your legs, surging throughout your entire, trembling body, he quickly began thrusting himself wildly into you. With his fingers gripping the back of your neck, he held you close to him, resting his forehead on yours as he fucked you through the explosion of bliss.

The warmth swelled to reach every limb before your body was coming down from the high, so beyond sensitive you couldn't even form words. He continued to thrust himself into your dripping, spasming walls with wild force before he finally lost control. He huffed out a groan, his brow creasing and his eyes screwing shut. He rocked into your body so deep for the last time, surrounded by your warmth squeezing him as he finally released inside of you.

He gently loosened his grip on you, allowing your body to fall against the bed seconds before he lowered himself beside you. Normally you would tell him to leave and he would quietly slip back into his clothes. But tonight was different.

Now, you both lay on the bed, side by side, watching each other in the dim light of the room. You could sense his desire to reach out and pull you close, but he held himself back, respecting the boundaries you had set. Yet, despite the distance, you could still feel the heat radiating from his body.

There was so much affection in his eyes, it would normally scare you, suffocate you even, but somehow you felt drawn to him. It was as if the barriers you had carefully constructed around your heart were slowly crumbling away, and you found yourself reaching out.

Your fingers traced his jaw, the rough stubble grazing your skin. His breath hitched for a moment as he watched you with a mixture of wonder and longing. Despite the hesitance in your touch, he welcomed your caress, allowing you to explore the contours of his face.

As your eyes met him, you saw a reflection of your own emotions mirrored back at you, and a wave of vulnerability washed over you. The tears welled up in your eyes, glistening with unspoken words and unshed emotions.

"I don't deserve you," you whispered, the words hanging in the air.

Spencer moved on instinct. He reached out to gently wipe away the tears that glistened in your eyes, his touch a soothing tenderness that stirred something deep within you.

"You deserve so much more than you give yourself credit for," he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. "You deserve everything."

How was he so perfect? How was he able to see the goodness in you when all you could see were your flaws and shortcomings?

As you looked into his eyes, filled with unwavering love and acceptance, you couldn't help but wonder why he continued to stand by your side despite everything. Why was he still here, offering his unwavering support and affection, even when you pushed him away and blamed yourself for the scars that marred your soul?

"Why..." The question lingered on the tip of your tongue, begging to be voiced aloud, but you hesitated, the weight of the words too heavy to bear. "Why do you care about me?"

This time, he closed the distance between you, his arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace and you found yourself leaning into him. "I care about you because you matter to me," he replied. "Because you're worth caring about."

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you struggled to contain the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you.

"You deserve all the love in the world, you’re the most deserving person I know," he continued, murmuring against your hair. "I know you’re scared, but you’re not alone in this. You don’t have to be alone.”

A choked sob finally escaped you, the weight of his words hitting you with a force you couldn't grasp. You pushed yourself closer to him, seeking solace in the safety of his arms, letting him pull you even closer as his own voice trembled with raw emotion.

"So let me love you," he whispered, the words a plea and a promise rolled into one. “Please.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you finally allowed yourself to release the pent-up emotions that had been building inside you for so long. You cried for the lost time. You cried for him, for the way you had hurt his heart every time he showered you with affection he offered so freely and yet you had struggled to accept.

But most importantly, you cried for yourself, too—for the person you had been before the pain, for the scars that still lingered beneath the surface, and for the glimmer of hope that still burned within you despite everything you had been through.

With a silent nod against his chest, you finally surrendered as you allowed yourself to believe, if only for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, you were worthy of love after all.

The prompts I used are along the line of Character learns to navigate their everyday life after a traumatic event, and “You aren't alone in this. None of us are.” They’re kind of altered in this story but I think they have the same depth :)

#gifwriting #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #mentioningmargins

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suhlogic · 2 months ago

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paradise [kim mingyu x fem!oc]

summary: going to la union for a temporary escape from your busy city life was supposed to just be all about you, not until you meet a hot stranger at a bar and things escalate quite interestingly for the week.

warnings: slight age gap, dom!mingyu, sub!reader, unprotected sex, choking kink, creampie, size kink, praise kink, dry humping in a semi-public place, biting kink (slight), cum-eating

[🔞]

your city life proved to be exhausting, still navigating everything at 21 despite being independent and already moved out of your parents' house but the corporate life was a bitch to deal with on top of your mother nagging you to fulfill your filial duties as the eldest child to provide when they are still fully capable of supporting themselves and your younger sibling. so here you were, driving alone in your car on the way to la union to unplug for a week. the car ride was boring and tiring since your friends were all busy and you didn't want to ride a bus alone. finally, you arrived at your hotel early morning and got everything settled before you slept to make up for the exhaustion.

after a good few hours of decent sleep, you decide to get ready for the beach and put on a light red bikini that was just held together by strings that was properly showing off your huge tits. you also put on a skirt and a thin knitted coverup while your hair was up in a cute claw clip and grabbed your small tote bag on your way out to have some fun while the sun sets. as you reach the seaside, you decided to lay your towel on the sand and put your bag on it as you enjoyed swimming in the water basking in the sun.

[11:00pm]

after washing up back at your hotel room to grab dinner at the bar, you put on a pink dress with a thigh-high slit that was backless with just a pair of lace panties underneath. as you make your way into a chair by the bar counter and order your food, you mind your own business. after all, the fun doesn't start until the alcohol gives you enough courage to get fucked by a handsome stranger.

sipping on your cocktail was already affecting you and noticed that a tall handsome guy, with sharp gentle features and a short cropped haircut was eyeing you. his sun-kissed skin looking perfect under the strobing lights, athletically built body showing off through the shirt he's left the few buttons open with biceps practically begging to rip through its sleeves. but you weren't going to make it easy for him, catching his stares and waving back at the mystery guy. luring him to come over to your spot, and it fucking worked like magic.

his aura was intoxicating. the moment he leaned in to whisper something in your ear, he immediately had you hooked. "so what's a pretty girl like you doing in this place?" he smirked. you felt taken aback by his deep voice, his breath being minty with a hint of the gin and tonic he was drinking earlier. "just looking to have fun,although i've heard the real fun starts in the bedroom" you bite back with a smile from your pink glossy lips.

he laughed at the smooth rebuttal and reached his hand out to introduce himself, "feisty, i see...it's so rude that i didn't introduce myself. i'm mingyu by the way," he said. "and i'm _____," you shake his hand. "you know, i could show you a fun time what do you say?" his huge hand grabs the small of your back, the tension and close proximity making you yearn for his touch. the flashing lights and the music thumping on full blast against the speakers felt so right under the hot twinkling stars on a summer night,

"don't worry baby, they're too busy to care about what we're doing" he whispers as he holds you tighter and grinds his clothed member against your ass harder, "fuck, let's get out of here...my room." you whine as you begin to face him and grab his hand, leaving after paying your tabs.

once it was all settled, you and mingyu began to walk back to your hotel with hands intertwined together no one but the stars and the waves crashing against the shore witnessing romance brewing between the two of you as the music began to fade into the distance. the walk back to your place consisted of laughter and getting to know each other more, you began to learn that he was also getting away from the chaos of the city—family stuff, in his own words. not long after, the two of you made your way inside the elevator and pressed the floor where your room was.

you grab him by this nape and pull him in for a kiss, tasting your sweetness on his tongue and glistening pink lips which turns heated the moment your hands travel down his toned abs and into his boxers, feeling up his manhood—lengthy, thick and hard. you pull his pants down along with his underwear as his dick springs free slapping against his stomach past his belly button.

"will it fit?" you give him your best doe eyes as you begin to jerk him off, spreading his precum around the slit of his bulbous mushroom tip. "don't tease me, i need to be inside you now." he moans, the lust in his eyes darkening as he takes his dick in his hand and rubs it up and down your wet folds before inserting it slowly. his tip feeling hot and heavy against your wetness, moaning at how his dick feels inside you.

"didn't expect to pick up a hot stranger like you tonight..." you smirk, shifting to sit up on the bed while he grabs a towel to clean the both of you up and runs a bath. "i've had my eyes on you since you walked into the bar , i'm glad the night ended with you under me," he teasingly winks as he motions for you to come sit in between his legs and starts to wipe you down.

but mingyu couldn't help leaving slow and soft kisses down your cheeks and down your jawline as he cleans you up, "babe... don't start now, i can barely walk," you laugh, trying to suppress your moans. "i can carry you anywhere, don't worry," he whispers as you lean your neck to face him and pull him in for another kiss. after cleaning the two of you up, mingyu carries you in bridal style into the bathroom and helps you get into the bathtub and follows suit behind you and engulfs you in his warmth.

his biceps hugging you flush against his chest as you grab on his forearms biting at it softly and kissing it. you don't know if he''ll remain a stranger for the night or someone you'd be spending the rest of your life with but surely you hope it's the latter. he smirks at your antics and kisses your cheek, "happy 2nd anniversary, my love."

#svt fic #svt x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu imagine #kpop fic #mingyu x reader

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racinggirl · 9 months ago

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that's my girl

Lando Norris fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: it took me a bit longer as I have been quite busy this last week, but it's hereeee! I hope you like it, I have to say I love badass Y/N a lot, so thank you for the request! It's a bit shorter, but we need some variation in life, don't we? Let me know your thoughts! It's not proofread, so be aware for any minor mistakes, if there are some. Lots of loveeee. Don't forget to send in requests! I love all the requests I've gotten so far 🫶🏼

‘’What kind of snacks do you want?’’ You asked your boyfriend as you were preparing some somewhat healthy snacks before he would go live on Twitch. You were filling up a bowl with Maltesers because, let’s be honest, who doesn’t like those? You then decided to grab a knife and cut the cheese and cucumber to make the tray snacks somewhat healthier.

‘’Can you lay on the tray?’’ Lando wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, causing you to tilt your head when he planted soft kisses on your neck. ‘’You already had that snack not too long ago, mister Norris.’’ You teased, keeping your eyes closed as you felt his hands making its way under your shirt, close to your bra.

‘’Nah, ah.’’ You put down the knife and took both his hands in yours, moving them down and placing them on your hips before reaching back for the knife. Your action caused him to groan, and you simply smirked as you felt how much he needed you, because let’s be honest here, it was impossible to not feel him through his jeans.

‘’Grapes, mango?’’ You continued, focussing back on the tray of deliciousness in front of you. ‘’Chocolate covered strawberries.’’ He replied, walking to the fridge. ‘’Yeah, ehm, about those…’’ You bite your lip as you looked over at the – way too perfect – McLaren driver, who happened to be your boyfriend.

‘’No, you ate them?’’ He asked, turning 45 degrees to look at you with puppy eyes. ‘’Oh stop it! You ate my piece of cake the other day!’’ You laughed, feeling his hands on your body as he tickled you. ‘’Lando! Stop!’’ You managed to breathe out in between your laughter.

‘’You ate my strawberries!’’ He exclaimed; his arms wrapped tightly around you as you tried to somehow escape his grasp. But he was strong, of course he was, he was a Formula One driver.

Talking about his job, you were proud of him. The two of you had been dating for a few years now, the world only finding out in your 3rd year of dating each other. You had no idea how because you never purposely tried to be secret about it. You never went out in public, never really posted about one another on your socials, either. You only really started doing that when people noticed your relationship.

You were almost done with your degree now, though. Meaning you had more time to come to some of his races. You loved going there, not only to support your boyfriend, but also to learn about all the behind the scenes of the sport. It was something that fascinated you ever since you started dating Lando.

However, you tried to stay out of the camera’s as much as you could. You never held hands when you walked through the paddock with him; if you walked through the paddock with him. Most of the time you arrived after he did because you either had to finish some online work in the hotel room, or because you wanted to stay out of the spotlight.

You never really enjoyed being in front of the camera’s, hence why you were so invested in all the behind-the-scenes stuff. It wasn’t because you weren’t confident enough, not at all, because you were, and that’s something Lando always admired about you, especially when you started to receive hate. You just never thought being in front of the camera suited you, those cameras around you, people asking questions, it just annoyed you, and you decided you didn’t want to take a part of it.

It didn’t mean you never supported him, though. You were always there for him, and he knew. He never complained, he never told you you weren’t supportive, no. He loved how your relationship was different than the ones from all the other WAGS, he felt like he wasn’t sharing you with the entire world, that you were just his, and that’s exactly how you felt, too.

‘’Good evening chat! Long-time no see, ey?’’ You heard Lando’s smile through the words he just spoke, waving at the camera as he leaned back in his chair. He glanced over at you, his eyes gliding over you before quickly shooting you a wink. You laughed and rolled your eyes at his action, simply knowing the chat would comment on his wink.

‘’I’m good, enjoying the off season as much as I can.’’ He smirked. ‘’Aren’t we, babe?’’ He asked and you got up, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. ‘’I for sure am.’’ You winked before walking to the kitchen to get your snacks.

You always were seated outside of the camera’s view. As much as you loved staying out of the cameras at the track, you did the same whenever he streamed. You never did it purposely, though. You never hid away from the cameras; you simply never purposely were in front of them.

‘’Grabbing snacks!’’ You yelled from the kitchen when you heard Lando read the comments. ‘What’s Y/N doing?’ and ‘Where’s your girlfriend going?’

‘’She’s getting snacks, chat. You won’t believe it, but we actually prepared those for tonight.’’ He smirked, sipping his water as he read through the comments. ‘’We?’’ You asked, raising an eyebrow with a smile. ‘’Right, sorry chat, my lovely girlfriend Y/N prepared the snacks.’’ He said, watching you placing the tray of delicious food in front of him.

‘’I’m just missing one snack on here, but sadly there’s not enough room on the tray for that.’’

‘OMG HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT’

‘HAHAHAHA Lando naughty naughty boy’

‘DUUUUUUDE LANDO WHAT LMAO’

You sat down next to him, your legs over his as you grabbed a Malteser from the tray. ‘’You’re very original with your jokes tonight, Norris.’’ You smirked, reaching for your phone before you opened TikTok, keeping yourself entertained when Lando continued his stream.

He loved this about you, he loved the fact that even though he was live, streaming and being in front of cameras, you never backed down. You never changed when the cameras were there, you always stayed yourself. That was probably the thing he admired most about you, and things he definitely learned from you.

As the hours went by, the tray of food was nearly empty. You got up a few times to go to the bathroom, get something to drink, get some more snacks and so on. Lando got up to go to the bathroom for the second time this evening, leaving you alone with chat.

You kissed his lips before he left the room, you simply deciding to pop up in front of the camera this time. You read some messages, smiling as they told you you looked beautiful. ‘’Aw, thanks guys, or girls, that’s sweet.’’ You replied, leaning your chin on your hand as you continued reading a few more comments.

The second you heard him coming back in the room, you commented on a question in the chat, Lando sitting next to you with a smile on his face. He loved it when you interacted with his fans, which you sometimes did. It’s not like you were completely offline when it came to the fame he carried with him, you just never really bothered to become an influencer like some others did.

‘’Nah, ah, Norris, they are asking me questions now.’’ You teased, holding your hand up when he started to talk again.

‘HAHA Y/N’s such a vibe’

‘Yeah Lando, we’re chatting with your girl now!’

He simply chuckled, pecking your lips when you looked at him and he then enjoyed the scenery he saw in front of him.

After a while, you got up from your chair, going to the kitchen to refill your glass of water for the fourth time that evening, and made your way back to the room when you heard your boyfriend reading some comments out aloud.

‘Y/N doesn’t love him, she never holds his hand in the paddock, what a supportive WAG.’

You furrowed your eyebrows at that comment, and just as Lando was about to say something to defend you, you put your glass of water on the table in front of you.

‘’Last time I checked, my job title wasn’t ‘WAG’. I’m an engineer, not a runway model.’’

Lando looked at you, amazed, proud, and smiling like an idiot. ‘’You heard her, chat.’’ He smirked. ‘’That’s my girl.’’ He whispered happily.

The end of the stream was nearing, and you got up to head to bed. ‘’Goodnight, babe, I’ll see you in a bit.’’ You whispered before placing a kiss on his lips, smiling against them as he returned the favour. You glanced over at chat one last time, feeling Lando’s hand on the back of your upper leg.

‘’Next time I’ll open the ‘WAGs Handbook’ to catch up on some of my duties.’’ You smirked at the chat. ‘’Goodnight chat, sleep tight.’’ You blew them a kiss before walking out of the room, heading straight to bed.

Not long after you positioned yourself in the king-size bed Lando had in his bedroom, you heard the door opening; your boyfriend making his way to you. ‘’You’re amazing, please never change.’’ He whispered and pressed his lips on yours, firmly.

Later that season

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champagnefountains · 9 months ago

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Oh my goodness your Lucifer fic is SO cute! You write him very well! (Exited for possible pt 2) I was wondering since your requests are open if you'd be willing to write something for either Lucifer or Alastor (or possibly both) with a short shy/anxious reader? Super fluffy plz if possible and you're interested!

Hi Anon! Thanks so much for your submission. I hope you'll enjoy what I came up with! I had fun with this one (it got me giggling and kicking my feet or something...)

Word count: 1.2k words. Kinda got carried away, my bad. Genre: (Tooth-rotting) Fluff. Established relationship. Warning: None.

LUCIFER MAGNE with a shy and short S/O:

Lucifer is quite short himself in comparison to a few demons. But, you? Being shorter than him? God, he’ll think you’re the cutest thing ever (plus, it was a massive ego boost on his part). And your timid nature only adds onto it.

Expect him to be very touchy with you. There isn’t a second moment where he isn’t clinging onto or hugging you. Out in the public or even at the hotel, his arm would somehow always find its way wrapped around your shoulders or waist. He just wants to keep you close to him as much as possible, since you just seem to fit so snug and well in his arms.

Lucifer loves it so much when you get all shy and flustered around him. His pride just flourishes whenever your face bursts into flames, especially knowing that it was because of him that you’re acting this way. He’ll tease you about it, but not too much because he cares for your poor heart.

He also knows his million-dollar smile does wonders, so he’ll use it to his advantage. He’ll strike a smile or smirk at you out of nowhere when you would meet eyes, and he’ll revel in the way you’d melt so easily under his gaze. Though, it would be the same for him – his heart would burst with that warm-fuzzy feeling whenever you would send one of your precious smiles his way. This man is smitten and will worship you and the floor you walk on.

Is also super, super supportive of you whenever you get anxious – will do anything in his will to help distract you or alleviate any of your worries, whether it be just holding your hand, talking some nonsense to fill in the silence, or even flying you around to get some fresh air. He'll probably even have a duck-shaped stress ball for you to use whenever you get a bit fidgety.

Additional things I think Lucifer would do: he would give you a lot of forehead/head kisses; HE WOULD TOTALLY SET YOU DOWN ON A COUNTERTOP OR HIS DESK AND KISS YOU FR, OR HE'LL DO SO WHILST CARRY YOU WITH YOUR LEGS STRADDLING HIS WAIST I need self-control; he will shamelessly rant about how adorable you are in front of the others, even if they're all sick of it, 'cause he's just so proud to be your partner!

Lucifer found himself silently admiring you while you were all snuggled up against his chest. After another successful hard day's work, you spent the remainder of the night watching a couple movies together at the hotel’s lounge area.

Noticing a pair of eyes on your figure, you crane your neck up and with a small tilt of your head, you stare back at him in question.

The King suddenly felt his chest swell with so much love and affection for you. You didn’t even know how adorable you looked in his arms right now. Without warning, Lucifer dipped down and pressed his lips against yours, swallowing the surprised yelp that escaped your lips.

As you parted ways, Lucifer grinned widely as your cheeks noticeably began to redden. “W-What was that for?” You pouted.

“Sorry angel, but I just couldn't help it! You looked too cute – I couldn’t not kiss you then.” He stated matter-of-factly. He then leaned once again to press multiple pecks across your face – one on your forehead, on both your cheeks and another lingering one on your lips.

The out-of-the-blue affection had you swiftly burying your face into his chest, a poor attempt made to hide your embarrassment. You could only grumble in defeat as you felt the way his chest shook as he chuckled aloud, evidently amused by your flustered state.

ALASTOR with a short and shy S/O:

Not gonna lie, this man will be so annoying but in an endearing way.

Alastor would tease you endlessly about your height, since the difference would be quite significant – it usually consists of him resting an elbow or his arms on the crown of your head, leaning onto you like you were some sort of personal arm-rest. He personally finds it quite amusing, like a joke that never gets tired.

Since he isn’t really a huge fan of PDA, he would often give you head-pats. It’s a small, simple gesture but it’s his way of showing affection out in public. He would also often have your arms looped around one of his own whenever you two would walk together, side by side.

Behind closed doors, I can see him as the type to pull you between his legs, your back pressed against his chest whilst he reads the newspaper or a book in bed. He would then use your head or shoulders to rest his chin on, to peer over you. Sometimes he would even play with your hair, looping them around his fingers whilst he absent-mindedly hums a sweet, little tune. Again, a simple gesture but also very intimate. I'm literally melting just thinking about it. I feel like he would do something similar like this whenever you get anxious – if it helps, he would also make you some tea on the side, and even let you play with his hands/fingers.

Being the huge tease he is, Alastor just loves how shy you get around him. He's the type to say things like: "Dear, do you have a fever? You look a little flushed," or "My, my, your face may be redder than my suit!" just to see you get riled up even more. But if another demon were to talk smack about how shy you were, you will not see them live another day. That's a guarantee.

Additional things I think Alastor would do: he and/or his shadows would help you grab things from high places or would lift you up by the waist for you to grab them; out of pure instinct, he will for sure become extra protective of you; would be the big-spoon in most cases; would tease you by retracting himself using his height whenever you would lean in for a kiss.

Alastor was quick to pick up on a small habit of yours very early on – how you would always hide your smile behind your hands. When he brought it up one day, you sheepishly told him that you were insecure about your smile, which perplexed the deer-demon.

Just like now, Alastor couldn’t help but raise a brow as you hid your grin behind your palm whilst you chuckled at one of his corny jokes. “Now, now, this won’t do, my dear!” He clicks his tongue, waving a disapproving finger at you, “why must you always hide that gorgeous smile of yours?”

A blush suddenly breaks out across your cheeks. You unconsciously found yourself looking down, embarrassed by the flattering remark, only for his finger to guide you back up by your chin. He then leans in but stops only centimetres away, his face dangerously close to yours.

Alastor’s grin only grew wider, seeing how helpless and small you looked – eyes widened like a deer in headlights, and yet filled with anticipation. You looked so, so nervous. And yet, it was so endearing that he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms.

“Now, does the ground look much more entertaining than I, dear? I don’t think it can make you smile the way I do.” He teases, his voice intentionally dropping an octave deeper. God, he was going to be the death of you.

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #alastor #hazbin hotel

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viennakarma · 9 months ago

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Alonso Shenanigans

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: Mamá has business to attend, and Fernando is left to watch his son and get a hold of his whereabouts.

Word count: 1.8k

Tags: female reader, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, dad!Nando, silly little slice of life, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Another bite sized fluffy Nando fic, because I think about that one thing he said about finding happiness in becoming a father at least four times a week. Comments and feedback are appreciated xx

“Are you sure, love?” You asked again, nervous, watching as Fernando carried Alejandro attached to his hip.

“Yes, I’m sure, will you be back later today?” Fernando asked, as Ale played with his father’s hair, mumbling a little lullabye.

“Yes, in around three hours,” you said, kissing the top of Ale’s head, then pecking Fernando’s lips, “I’m really sorry, this meeting came out of nowhere, I promise I’ll make it up to you when-”

“Amor, it’s ok,” Fernando interrupted, “Go, we’ll behave and wait for you.”

It was just media day, but unfortunately a last minute meeting at your company needed to happen, and you’d have to leave your husband and kid alone in the paddock so you could go back to the hotel to attend the meeting online.

“Love you two to the moon and back!” You said, scurrying off.

“Mamá!” Alejandro asked, suddenly noticing his mother’s absence, and getting fussy.

“Mamá had to work, we’re going to have a lot of fun together today!” Fernando said, putting him on the floor, and holding his hand.

He took Alejandro all around, when he went to talk with the mechanics about the last update to his car, when he went to take a few pictures, recording a few marketing stuff, here and there. Everyone knew Alejandro as “Little Alonso”, his tiny feet padding around, his head full of disheveled brown wavy hair, and eyes that were pretty much the same as his father. He was always around, pointing at his dad’s car, muttering gibberish half in spanish and half in english, he also liked walking to the engineers pulling on their shirts to get their attention so he could ask for a headphone.

At the age of four and a half, Alejandro was a known face around the paddocks, always asking questions and waiting to know about everyone’s business.

“Papá, I’m hungry!” Alejandro patted his own belly, which made his dad chuckle.

“Ok, we’re getting food, campeoncito,” Fernando muttered, leading his son to his room. Inside, he rummaged through all his bags, searching for his snacks and juice bottle.

He ended up sitting beside Alejandro in the cafeteria, the little boy munching in a pot of cut fruits, a bag of chips, and a mango juice. Alejandro talked about everything, asking about the people and the colors, and why everything was where it was.

Eventually, Fernando had a meeting, so he set a little playing mat to Alejandro on the floor of the meeting room, where he put his son’s toys, paper and crayons.

“Papá, yo quiero inside your car!” Ale asked, as Fernando placed him on the little mat.

“I’ll take you to sit in my car as soon as we finish here, yes? Just sit tight and I’ll be really fast. Do you want to play with your toys, or paint a little? Come on,” Fernando took a crayon and started drawing, looking over his shoulder to see his engineers and strategists getting inside, sitting down, opening their laptops and notes. Nobody batted an eye to Fernando kneeling on the floor, convincing his kid to sit quietly. Everyone was used to the Alonsos’ shenanigans.

Finally, after making sure Alejandro was still on the mat, under his sight, Fernando went on and started the meeting.

It took something between 20 and 30 minutes until it was over, and when Fernando went to pick Alejandro, he noticed his little boy wasn’t there anymore, and the door was slightly ajar. Muttering every curse word he could think of, he bolted outside. Alejandro had become a little menace in escaping rooms now that he was tall enough to tiptoe and reach a door handle.

“Have you seen Alejandro?” He stopped a couple of the staff in the hall to ask. They just shook their heads. He went to the garage, and stopped the whole team of mechanics, his heart beating faster than it did when racing, “Have you guys seen Alejandro?”

“He walked past with Lance a few minutes ago,” Someone said, pointing outside. Fernando breathed again, ok, at least he wasn’t alone, roaming around and in danger.

Striding forward, Fernando kept looking for his teammate and his son, and eventually ended up in Ferrari. He walked inside to ask Carlos if he had seen the little boy, but he stopped short when he noticed a tiny hand print made with what looked like grease on the livery of the 55 Ferrari, and the letters “ALE” written sloppily with the very same black grease.

“Oh, mierda,” he whispered. Carlos noticed him, walking up to Fernando with a smile.

“Ale was just here with Lance, we talked for a couple of seconds, and when we looked, he had his hand printed on the car,” Carlos explained, as Fernando winced.

“Lo siento, Carlos. Do you know where they might have gone?” He asked.

“Well, Lance said he was going to wash Ale’s hands. So, back to Aston Martin, maybe?” Carlos shrugged.

Fernando went back to his garage, looking for Lance and Alejandro. Finally, he found Lance using a cloth to dry his hands. He smiled and waved at Fernando, who quickly went up to him.

“Is Alejandro with you?” Fernando asked.

“Oh, he saw George walking by, ran up to him and they both bolted together. I have no idea where they went. Sorry.” Lance muttered.

Fernando walked out again, going to the Mercedes motorhome to find his son once again. Honestly, everyone loved Alejandro way more than they loved Fernando, he was pretty sure, and the little boy was frankly a menace all around. If he found someone like George to match his energy, they would go around causing trouble to everyone.

At the Mercedes motorhome, he found Lewis staring curiously at a bowl of fruits.

“Hey, have you seen Alejandro? Lance said he and Geor-” Fernando stopped himself when he got closer to the table where the bowl of fruits sat.

“Well, for sure they’ve been here,” Lewis muttered, holding an apple, showing how the fruit had one single bite taken off. One little bite which Fernando knew very well who that dental arch belonged to. There was a bite on the apple, the banana, the pear, the peach and every single fruit there.

“¡Ay, dios mio! I’m sorry about this!” Fernando whispered, “I need to find them before him and George set the whole paddock on fire.”

Fernando walked out, knowing that George was probably going to look for Alex or Lando, who would probably support their little mischief around. He found Williams garage first, where he found a laughing Logan Sargeant picking up what looked like hundreds of little pieces of lego. And Fernando knew his kid, and knew he loved throwing things to the floor to make a mess.

“That’s Alejandro’s doing, right?” Fernando asked, wide eyed. Logan nodded and explained how the little boy had been there with George to taunt Alex after throwing his lego piece to the floor and scattering all the tiny pieces. Fernando helped Logan pick up the pieces from the floor.

“The three of them left, saying they had to prank Lando too,” Logan told Fernando, when they finished.

Fernando ran off, walking to McLaren, where he found Lando washing off his hair which was tangled in pink play dough, and George was trying to help him. Standing a little far behind, Alex had Alejandro sitting on his shoulders, the two of them giggling with Oscar.

“Alejandro didn’t do that, did he?” Fernando asked, worried and getting angry.

“No, no!” George was quick, “that was an accident on my part!”

“Yeah, little Alonso is innocent on this!” Lando added. Fernando squinted, not sure if he fully believed that, since Fernando himself had gone through something similar with Alejandro and his play dough.

“Look, any kind of oil will remove that from your hair,” Fernando patted his back, walking to his kid.

Alex gave him Alejandro, who Fernando decided was best to keep attached to him, not letting the little boy out of his sight again.

“Green! Verde, verde!” Alejandro was exclaiming to Alex.

“What is going on, pollito?” Fernando asked.

“He asked me to paint my hair green next time,” Alex explained, showing his blonde hair.

“And you agreed?” Fernando frowned.

“Yeah, whatever little Alonso wants, little Alonso gets,” Alex shrudded, laughing and pinching Alejandro chubby cheeks.

“You guys spoil him too much!” Fernando shook his head, waving goodbye and taking Alejandro back to his garage, “now I understand why mamá wants to buy a little backpack leash for you, little troublemaker.”

Alejandro held his face, looking into his eyes, then hugging him tight, which made Fernando’s annoyance from having to chase his son around completely dissolve, and he melted, hugging his boy. He could never get angry with his cute little man, especially when he reminded him so much of his younger self.

“Papá? Where’s Mamá?” Alejandro asked, looking around.

“Mamá is coming back soon, pollito,” he whispered, kissing his son’s cheek, “I’m missing her too.”

Fernando didn’t lose sight of Alejandro anymore, and when he had to leave for the press conference with other drivers, he left his PR manager to watch Alejandro while you had not come back. He was sitting on the sofa, answering questions but he still could watch Alejandro in a little chair on the opposite side of the room, beside the manager.

At some point, he noticed Alejandro getting fussy and pouty from staying in the same place alone for too long and looking fairly sleepy, Fernando could tell from one look.

“Alejandro,” Fernando called into the mic, the little boy looked around, hearing his dad’s voice, finally, he set his eyes on Fernando and jumped from the chair, “vente aquí.”

The boy took off, running towards his dad, eliciting a little “aw” from the journalists, and a lot of cameras following him until he got to his father, sitting on his lap, nuzzling into Fernando’s chest.

Fernando kept answering questions, and in a couple off minutes, Alejandro was fully asleep. Everyone started talking a little lower, as to not disturb the little one who was sleeping so calmly on his dad’s chest.

When the press conference was over, Fernando carried Alejandro inside his room, keeping his son on his lap, while he went through some data.

Finally when you came back, you found Alejandro on Fernando’s chest, his dad holding him tight while both of them took a little nap, looking so much like each other that it warmed your heart. You kissed both of their heads, running your fingers through Fernando’s hair to wake him up.

“Let’s go back to the hotel, so my pretty boys can eat and rest properly, yes?” You said, kissing Fernando softly, his eyes shining with so much adoration that he didn’t need to say the words, you could see the I love you. “Did you two behave?”

“Like angels!” Fernando winked, which told you that they probably had some Alonso Shenanigans today.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #formula one

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