#A. Not only initiates a kiss next season

[saltpepperbeard]

what if we get a kiss where stede manages to draw a surprised little noise out of ed

[ithebookhoarder]

Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field. 

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together. 

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over. 

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary. 

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?” 

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?” 

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes. 

David Rossi 

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover. 

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.” 

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either. 

One, because he’s kind of flattered. 

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves. 

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you. 

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” 

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks. 

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you. 

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss. 

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it. 

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss. 

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms. 

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.” 

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.” 

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple. 

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you. 

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck. 

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision. 

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.” 

With that, she’d be off. 

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself. 

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.” 

JJ

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so. 

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in. 

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control. 

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.  

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.” 

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house. 

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights. 

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“ 

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.” 

“I - ok.” 

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed. 

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.” 

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.” 

Penelope Garcia 

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.  

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it. 

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”  

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.  

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together. 

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally. 

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body. 

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear. 

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.” 

Masterlist

[leclerity]

that's who i'm racing for

Charles Leclerc x Fiance!Reader count: 1k words summary: Charles and you talk before a big race, sad because you're having to call instead of sleeping in the same bed. a/n: it sounds like angst but it's mostly fluff. i promise!

If you’re not in bed, by his side, he will call you before every race. He likes to say that not hearing your voice lull him to sleep brings bad luck, and that’s the one thing he won’t risk. You’re convinced it’s just a nice little gesture, but you cherish it nonetheless.

“Baby,” Charles mumbles into the phone, looking at the camera with weary eyes. “Turn your light on. I want to see you.”

“It’s late. I’m heading to bed, too.”

“I know, but I miss your face.”

You know he can see you as well as you can see him—the light from your phones is bright enough—but you turn on your bedside lap, anyway. “Happy?”

“Much happier.” Charles shifts around until his hands are wedged under his pillow and he’s staring at the phone with a lovey-dovey smile. “I can’t believe you had to stay at home.”

“Duty calls,” you say.

“I should be your duty.”

“You will be. Soon enough.”

“Show me.”

Dutifully, you bring up your hand, moving it so that the diamond ring is visible over the camera, as butterflies fill your stomach. It’s been months, yet you’re still not used to it – you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it, it’ll just have one more ring added to it.

“Ah, I can’t wait for you to be mine,” he says.

“I’m already yours.”

“Not officially. And you’re not here.”

You turn the light off, knowing he’s seen what he wanted to see, but your smile still shows on the screen. “I know. I’ll be there for the next race, I promise.”

“The bed feels empty without you, you know,” he murmurs. “Without my fiance.”

“I’ll warm it up soon enough.”

“You better.”

You hear him playing music in the background – sometimes he does that when he can’t fall asleep, when you’re not there. Your heart tugs at its strings but there’s nothing you can do. His eyes are getting heavier, even though he’s trying to keep them open to look at you, and you can tell that he’s not far out from completely falling asleep.

You decide to take the initiative. “I’ll head to bed, I think.”

“You’re only saying that because I’m tired.”

“Maybe,” you say. “Does it make a difference?”

Charles thinks about it. “No. But I wish we didn’t have to sleep apart.”

“I know. Me too. But you need your sleep, my love.”

“I know, I know… I’d just rather be with you.”

“Me, too.”

He looks at you and you see his face soften, even with all the tiredness. His hair is messy and falling over his eyes, a far cry from how he likes to present himself, but this is how you like him best – at his most genuine, most vulnerable. Where he’s not the driver, the Monegasque, but just Charles.

Just yours.

He sighs. “Oh, what would I do to sleep in your arms tonight…”

You feel the pain in his voice as if it were your own. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Don’t apologise. Don’t even think it’s your fault.”

The thing he won’t admit, not to himself and let alone to you—but you can see it—is the reason why he’s still up, way past his bedtime on race day. It’s almost halfway through the season and he’s doing good in the standings, and maybe Ferrari’s luck will turn for the better this year, but Lando’s right behind him and the race tomorrow has to be good if he wants things to stay this way.

The pressure is intense. You can see it in the weariness under his eyes, in the way he’s felt just a little bit aloof in the past week, especially since he landed in Spain. It breaks your heart to watch him like this and not be able to hug him, to hold him, to kiss the fear away.

So you fluff up your pillow and lie down, propping the phone up against what is usually Charles’s pillow. “We can pretend I’m there.”

“How?”

“Stay on call. Fall asleep together. I’ll hear you snoring and it’ll be like I’m there.”

“I don’t snore,” he says, but you can tell that his voice has picked up a little. “Okay. Just falling asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s late.”

You wait as he props the phone up, too, and the camera is half-covered by the pillow, but you don’t say anything. You can just about make out his hair and his eyes, even with his mouth out of sight.

He’s beautiful, no matter what, and you can’t wait to be finally his in every way that matters.

“You’re going to have an amazing race tomorrow, mon cheri.”

Charles kisses his finger then presses it to the camera, whispering sweet nothings to you in French. You feel yourself drifting off, but stay up—just in case—until you hear the familiar snoring, and you were right – it’s almost like you’re right there, right next to him.

When you close your eyes, you can still hear him snoring, and you find that you can easily pretend that you’ll touch him if you just reach over. Sleep takes you with your hand stretched out, lulled into dreams by your fiance’s snoring, and maybe the world won’t fall apart just because you’re not together.

You wake up and he’s gone, the call has ended, but there’s a text message thanking you for last night and telling you how much it helped give him a good night’s sleep, and how much he can’t wait to get back to you on Monday.

Later, some half an hour before the race, you get another text from him: 72 days until you’re mine. That’s who I’m racing for.

You clutch your phone to your chest, praying to all the gods you do and don’t believe it to keep him safe. To let him win without having to sacrifice anything. To bring him home safe, to you in one piece.

Soon enough, you’ll be lying in bed together, falling asleep with your arms wrapped around each other until it gets too hot, and just a little after that, you’ll be doing so while sharing the Leclerc name.

[cassidyandonlycassidy]

and they were teammates

words: 2.2k

warnings: 18+ only, smut (but not a lot), shower sex, established relationship, secret/hidden relationship, driver!reader, fluffy

when mclaren approached you to sign for their team, you had one question going through their head. did they know about you and lando? you weren't sure how to bring it up in the initial meeting. did lando already tell them? you were a rival driver for williams after all, which is why you kept your relationship private.

you felt really good about the first discussion. you've been scoring really well at your current team, despite williams struggling with performance, and it felt good that mclaren saw that and wanted to give you a bigger opportunity.

the first person you called when you left the meeting was your boyfriend. lando had no clue that mclaren was looking to sign you as their second driver, but he was instantly excited that his girlfriend could be even closer to him.

you quickly brought up your relationship, and ended up after a long discussion agreeing that lando should tell mclaren, and you'd both cross your fingers that it wouldn't mean you lose the offer, so when you got a phone call from zak, you picked it up nervously.

"hello." 

"lando told me, and can i just say, we did figure that you were either already together or would become a couple once you started here."

you let out a laugh. "i guess we aren't as good at hiding how we feel about each other as we thought."

sure, you hear it all the time from the fans because even while you only portray yourself as close friends publicly, you are a male and female being friends in f1, meaning of course people are going to ship you. its a lot different when people you're close to also see how you feel about each other.

you end up signing a two year contract, sad to leave williams who were the first team to give you an opportunity in f1, but extremely excited to be in papaya. the second you leave the room after signing, you see lando sitting on a bench outside the room. you scan the hallway quickly to make sure it's empty, deciding to keep your relationship under wraps from non-essential people, and run to him. lando stands up and twirls you in his arms, pressing a big kiss to your lips.

"im so happy." you whisper, taking his face in your hands. "we are gonna be teammates, can you believe that?" 

"we get to spend even more time together." lando says, squeezing your body against his, before you hear a door open and you're forced to separate, but his eyes don't lose the excitement.

everything goes so well, the announcement, seeing the fans excitement, all the press leading up to the new season. even your first qualifying with mclaren goes well, until the actual race when you dnf. it's certainly not how you wanted to start. there was some sort of problem with the engine forcing you to retire, but lando certainly made you feel better after with lots of kisses and cuddles in your driver's room to make up for it.

your next couple races go much better, enjoying building the team dynamic and getting to know everyone, all while constantly having lando around supporting you.

the second half of the season gets even better when the car improves massively, so now instead of struggling for points, you're trying for podium positions. lando gets p3 while you get p4, but you can't help yourself from running up to him and giving him a huge hug, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds you up.

it sets off a whole new round of rumors, but you are just so proud of your boyfriend and wanting to show him and everyone.

"you did so well, im so proud of you." you say, pressing a kiss to his lips quickly, knowing the hallway you're standing in is high trafficked and someone is bound to walk down it and see you too conversing.

"next time it's both of us on the podium." lando says, and he's right, the next race, lando finds himself p2 with you right behind in p3. you give him another massive hug after both celebrating with the team, getting your helmet and your back slapped in congratulations.

you thought you would be more nervous for your first podium in f1, but the excitement and happiness outweighs that feeling massively, and lando subtly holding your hand in the cool down room, letting you stay connected to him.

you didn't think it could get better than standing on those steps with lando, spraying him with champagne and laughing as he dumps the bottle on your head before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, getting lots of pictures together and kind of forgetting that there is someone in p1 there, so focused on the two of you being on the podium together that it feels like winning.

next race is tough, so physically tough and draining, but when lando makes a move for p1 and gets it, you know you have to pull your weight and move up from p4, so you struggle for the positions, almost going off a couple times, but you make it up to p2 right before the checkered flag waves.

the excitement you feel from the team is unlike no other. during the first half of the season, they were happy if both drivers were in the points, but now there's the first p1 and p2 in years, as well as landos first ever win. you want to cry watching your boyfriend celebrate, you're so overjoyed for him that when you go to give him a hug, you don't even question when his lips press against yours for everyone to see.

you always discussed telling people when it felt right, and clearly it did for lando, and you're happy to not hide anymore so you kiss him back.

he pulls away with a big smile, one that doesnt leave his face as he gets onto the podium, holding up his p1 trophy before gesturing for you to join him on the top step.

you celebrate more after the podium, when you're supposed to be showering, you're pressed against the wall of landos driver's room, his hips pressing into yours with your legs wrapped around his waist. you hide your mouth in his shoulder, knowing the walls here are thin as one of his hands drops down to rub at your clit. you both cum at the same time, so wrapped up in the adrenaline of the race that you don't realize how exhausted the act makes you, both of you dragging your feet through the post race process, skipping celebrations that night in favor of crashing at your hotel room, but you make it up to the team the next night.

"so lando, y/n, we saw a big kiss during celebrations last week, is there anything you want to tell us?" the interview asks, causing your cheeks to go red. you carefully avoided all questions about the kiss, but when you saw that you and lando were paired together in the official press conference, you knew exactly what was coming.

you turn to lando who is sitting next to you, silently pleading for him to answer. "well, we've been together for about a year now, so we figured it was time everyone knew." lando smiles, addressing the reporters but his eyes don't look away from you as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. you smile and lean your body against his, knowing that he will be by your side to field all the questions.

it eventually dies down as the season continues on, both scoring a couple podiums, but no more wins for the team, even as both of you get close many times. you are a lot more open with your relationship now, occasionally holding hands and sneaking kisses, but you still try to keep it somewhat private as you avoid a lot of pda, wanting to still be professionals for your team.

the next race is an unexpected win for you. you were pushing hard for p1, when the man you were trying to get past went off the track while defending you, letting you get ahead for the lead. if you weren't on the last lap he certainly would have caught back up, but you ended up winning the race, with lando in p3. you jump into his arms, feeling tears well up in your eyes at him being there to celebrate your first win with you, just like you were there for his.

he makes sure you know how proud he is of you later in your shared hotel room when he buries his face between your legs, tongue lapping against your pussy, making you cum multiple times before he pulls his mouth away from you.

"love you." lando whispers as he pushes his cock inside of your entrance. "love you so much and im so proud of you." 

you smile and repeat the words back to him.

it's the second to last race of the season and you and lando are battling it out for p2 in the championship, with p1 already secured. it's a relief to be with a teammate who is going to be happy for you if you beat him, and vice versa. there has been no tension so far related to racing, and you know everyone at mclaren is relieved at that. everything is left on the track.

you qualified p5 with lando in p3, and you are pushing hard at the start of the race, quickly catching up with him before you round the first corner, when you feel a bump on your rear, causing you to spin out and hit at least lando, but you think another car as well. it's hard to tell with how fast everything is going.

you brace for the crash into the wall, and thankfully its not your first crash in racing, because your body knows exactly how to prepare for it. you take a deep breath once you stop moving, ears ringing but able to make out the team asking you if you’re okay on the radio.

“i’m okay.” you reply, doing a mental check over every part of your body to make sure you actually were okay. “lando?” you ask.

“also okay.” you let out a breath of relief at the reply, looking around before climbing out of the cockpit, seeing that four cars were ultimately taken out. you rush over to the matching orange car as lando gets out slowly, you can tell he’s also checking over his limbs to make sure nothing is injured and he just couldn’t tell because of the adrenaline. 

“lan.” you call out, and he turns towards you quickly, pulling you into a hug, helmets pressing against each other as you look into his eyes, seeing the fear in his, knowing that it’s all for you.

you head back to the garage with lando to go over the incident, turns out perez hit your rear and sent you spilling into lando, taking out russell as well on the way. you sigh when watching the footage, realizing how quickly that all could have gone wrong. you reach over and squeeze landos hand in your own, making him turn and press his lips to your forehead.

you get questions about it at the press conference next week, of course, but there’s not much more to say beyond what you said post race. again, you’re thankful to have lando there. he has two more seasons in f1 than you do, and you appreciate his tact when answering certain questions while still keeping his personality and humor. 

“next question is for everyone. there has been controversy lately about celebrities during the grid walk. do you support celebrities being on the track during that time and if so, is there anyone you’d like to see on the track?”

the question quickly devolves into what celebrities they want to see, with one driver saying they’d like to see margot robbie because she’s their celebrity crush. when it’s lando’s turn to answer, he turns to look at you, “i see my celebrity crush on the grid every race.”

you laugh and blush, hearing to crowd of reporters give an aww to your boyfriends sweet answer. “what about you, y/n?” “i think it’s fine having celebrities there, they don’t bother me, but maybe it’s a question to ask the team since we are in the car for a good part of it. as for celebrities i’d like to see?” you glance at lando, who quickly recognizes the mischievous glint in your eye. “my celebrity crush is drew starkey, i’d looove to see him.” “hey!” lando says, jabbing his fingers into your side, making you howl with laughter and push his hands away, smiling at him as he shakes his head, but leans in to give you a kiss.

“i love you.” you whisper to him, making sure the microphone is far away from your mouth so it doesn’t get picked up as lewis begins to answer a different question.

“i love you too.” lando says, leaning in and kissing your cheek. you smile happily and look into his blue eyes, knowing that no matter what happens in this final race, or next season, that everything will be good, because you have him by your side.

[sebscore]

Can you write something with Kimi in his Alfa Romeo seasons and driver!reader? I miss him so much :(

GIDDY GOODBYES 

pairings: raikkonen family x driver!reader

author's note: is this inspired by that cute antonio and kimi moment in abu dhabi '21? Yes. i miss him too :((

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''You want to swap helmets later?'' Kimi asked her, the sound of screaming and applauding fans surrounding them as they stood on the moving bus. 

Her eyes widened as the question left his lips, surprised that the Alfa Romeo driver would want to do the tradition with her. ''Uh, yeah, sure. I would love to.'' Her slightly open mouth turned into a bright smile. 

''Rianna has been asking for you the entire week so you can see her then as well.'' The Finn grinned. The female driver had been Kimi's daughter's favourite driver since the girl had started attending the F1 races. 

Y/N chuckled at his words. ''I'll bring some merch for her and Ace.'' 

''Really? That's very sweet, they'll like it a lot.'' Kimi appreciated all the time she would spend with his kids, knowing the joy it brought to them. 

''I love spoiling my fans,'' she smiled, ''as long as I get like a cool helmet from you, though! I'm very particular about my collection.'' 

The young woman was known for all the helmets of other drivers she had received over the years. She had proudly shown them off in a livestream after someone asked about the drivers she had swapped helmets with, even admitting she had to buy several extra shelves to store all of them. 

''I was told, I'll do my best.'' Kimi laughed, recalling someone from the Alfa Romeo team telling him about the driver's special collection as soon as he informed them about his desire to swap helmets with her. 

The Iceman didn't disappoint, gifting her one of his more unique helmet designs of the season with a short, but sentimental message written on the side: ''You've proven them wrong. Keep going. Stay smiling.'' His signature penned under it. 

Y/N had written a longer goodbye: ''Thank you for all the great races you have given us. It was an honour to share the track with you these last years. Good luck with your ice cubes, Iceman :)'' 

They mumbled a ''thank you'' towards each other as they handed one another their helmets, reading the messages with soft smiles on their faces. The pair posed for a picture together, their own respective team's photographers and Kimi's wife, Minttu, snapping a photo of them. 

''I'm gonna miss your silence.'' Y/N chuckled, causing others to do so as well. 

''I will miss your loudness.'' Kimi retorted, having everyone laugh even harder at his blunt and witty response. 

The Finn reached out to her with his free arm, initiating a hug with the young woman. She was caught off guard. The man had never offered her an embrace before- their physical interactions only going as far as a fistbump. 

She accepted, wrapping her own free arm briefly around him and resting her hand on his back. Kimi patted her own back a few times. 

The pair pulled back, satisfied smiles on both their faces. The Alfa Romeo driver crouched down next to his daughter. ''We will see her soon, okay?'' He reassured Rianna, who didn't take her eyes off the female driver as she absentmindedly nodded to what her father was saying. 

''You can visit me and we can eat a lot of food together.'' Y/N told the small girl. Rianna smiled brightly at her words, nodding her head. 

''Say bye bye to Y/N.'' Kimi whispered to her. 

Rianna stepped out of her father's arms. ''Bye bye, Y/N.'' The little girl skipped over to her, jumping into the older woman's embrace. ''Bye bye.'' Y/N kissed the side of Rianna's head, touched by the youngest Raikkonen's love. 

As the girls pulled apart, Kimi picked his daughter up- facing his, now, former competitor. ''Have a safe trip home, okay?'' 

Y/N nodded, appreciating his concern. ''You guys too.'' 

Minttu stepped forward, also offering the woman a hug. ''We wish you the best next season. We'll continue to root for you.'' She smiled, stating her support for the female driver. 

''Thank you so much, and have a nice Christmas together.'' Y/N said to her, appreciating that their family would continue rooting for her. She also high-fived a shy looking Robin who clinged to his mother. 

''We'll call, okay?'' Kimi mimicked a phone with his hand, looking at her. She nodded her head, delighted the man wanted to continue having contact with her. 

''We will.'' 

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.

"i can show you" scene • episode 1

the first wille’s smile of the season and simon is the one and only reason for it to happen *act surprised*.

he has no rush but takes his time to enjoy simon’s presence, looking from afar first and then approaching him. just having him there is enough to make him This happy.

the casual gestures of fixing the jacket or bumping into the shoulder make me melt - just typical boyfriends things and we absolutely praise them in this house!

wille's flirtatious mood in this whole sequence is the best thing that could've happened to me - to simon too! the "i can show you", the whispering, the head's nod. he's still my fav loser but oh how much he has learned and stepped up the game.

also, i genuinely think not showing them holding hands here with a wider shot is a crime.

such a perfect parallel of the fish scene and they're probably reminded of that too: this time it's wilhelm's bedroom and a foreign place for simon, so he's the curious one - looking around and taking the space in - while wille simply waits for him.

simon's "mysigt" to describe the room, just like wilhelm did. it is another special moment for both of them.

this. this. this!!! claim a s3 moment as your own - this is mine.

to me it is the most seductive and romantic one they've ever shared hands down. it comes straight out of a fanfic.

the tension, the longing, the chemistry, the flirting. there's so much to unpack here: wille's breath is literally vibrating and simon's presence is so intense, he builds up the tension and keeps wilhelm waiting for his next move in the most endearing way - wille is also leaning into his hand at the end. there's no talking, they're barely touching but still filling the room with all the passion and attraction they feel for one another - this is actually insanely scripted and portrayed.

no thoughts head empty just simon's tongue and his hands through wille's hair (he's obsessed, excuse him!).

and it kinda seems like simon is getting pulled closer by the waist or he's pushing himself closer - either way it's hot soo

simon's little leg lift and him pinning wille down on the bed by the wrist right before the cut - they're comfortable and open and so playful with each other. wilhelm's hand that caresses simon's back is very much important too.

simon caressing wille's cheek (he has to return the favor ig) and wilhelm leaning up again when they interrupt the kiss.

these brief moments are the cutest. i love how they stay so close and can't stop tracing each other's features.

the nose rub. the mirrored smiles. they've missed and wanted this for so long and they're taking the most of it.

this whole scene is so passionate and they're both so touchy bc they were clearly waiting for this to happen - during a meeting at the palace might not be the greatest scenario, but the thrill that comes with it is definitely something.

i like the role play throughout the scene sm: wille initiates the first kiss, simon is the one taking the lead next and then it all comes back to wille rolling them over and taking initiative. the neck action is a serious thing for him and idk where his hand would've ended up if they hadn't been interrupted - and we do! love! all of it!

they're laughing over the fact that they were not caring about anything at all but spending quality time with each other. and they deserve it so freaking much.

look at them!!! this is not a subtle look bc they simply do not care anymore. i adore them your honor.

[bywons]

𝜗ৎ MIDNIGHT SHENANIGANS! (enhypen)

⌕ it's midnight, and you both can't catch any sleep, what to do now?

𖦹 pairing. bf!enhypen x f!reader w.c. 2.1k tw/cw. skinship, nicknames genre. fluff ( CATALOGUE!? ) sru's note procrastinated big time on this one :) hope y'all enjoy this!

heeseung (이희성) 、 both of you are bored, your favourite tv show no longer being able to keep you both entertained or make you laugh till your stomachs ached. it fades into the background, slowly becoming a faint backdrop noise for your half tedious and half weary bodies tangled with each other on the couch.

"'this season just got boring", you yawn, pushing yourself closer to heeseung's broad and warm chest while his hand strokes your back, "i wonder if the next season would be bett—"

"right now the only thing you should wonder about is to get some sleep", heeseung's bored interruption causes he formation of a small frown on your face as you sit up beside him.

"you know im a night owl, hee", you sigh, angling your neck up to meet his eyes looking softly down at yours, "hmm, why don't you serenade me? pretty boy?"

heeseung reciprocates your smirk and clears his throat to sing his lover to sleep, before he can get some himself.

or so he thought. his serenade attempt soon turned to a session of singing competition after you sang the next line to a song heeseung didn't really like.

the silent living room soon gets filled with heesung's serene voice and your attempts at singing, and every time heeseung has a voice crack you mock him, laughing and falling onto his lap. your silly little singing competition continues until you both fall asleep in each other's embrace in the couch.

but nobody thanks the tv show, which still runs in the background and serenades both of you to sleep.

jay (박종성) 、 you thought your boyfriend jay wouldn't notice your absence or the slow sink and rise of the soft bed mattress beside him, and you would slip away from his loose hold and stand idly in front of the open fridge in the dark, totally forgetting your initial plan.

but then a sudden husky, sleepy, familiar voice startles you, "what are you doing there, love?"

the orange light emerging from inside the fridge illuminates your dull white tee, and accentuates jay's hands around the waistline of your joggers soon enough.

jay presses soft kisses along your neck, whispering, "are you hungry?"

"and bored", you huff.

"then let's cook something together yeah?", jay suggests before putting on his cooking apron and helping you with yours.

you have absolutely no idea on how to prepare the apple pie 'cause after all you're jay's girlfriend! he pampers you too much and cooks everything you like for you, so naturally you stood still in the middle of the kitchen, your time passing by yapping to your boyfriend and handing him the ingredients.

jay adds to your little rants, whilst single-handedly baking the apple pie, but with your little necessary helps tho <3

and when the apple pie is finally done, jay cuts the biggest portion for you, letting you taste it first.

the clock ticks by and the dull kitchen is filled by your hungry munching mouths and lovelorn eyes, jay and you enjoying each other's presence even in the boring hour at midnight.

this is bound to become a memory.

jake (심자연) 、 "but i didn't watch la la land!" "but i did!"

you guys were supposed to select a movie to watch like an hour ago now, but obviously it can't go smoothly without your usual bickering.

the night grows darker and your usual bedtime is in the long past, it's almost 1 o'clock, and both of you just wanted the movie marathon night to be over already, but not without selecting a movie you both would enjoy. and that seems impossible at this rate.

"be so for real right now, what do you really wanna watch jake?", you are losing your patience by the minute now, you only ever call him by his name when you are either annoyed or fed up by him. your eyes are threatening to close any second and you want to either a) watch a movie and cuddle to sleep with your boyfriend or b) just give everything up and sleep already.

"whichever you wanna watch", hearing this from your boyfriend makes your temper rise even more. and alas, you both agreed on something you both hate— horror movies.

ah yes, bodies huddling together with eyelids dropping to make your visions blurry and indefinite, as if it would make the movie any less scary. jake's arms pull you into a close hug as he whispers, "i t-think we should skip this part babe", to the most important part of the story.

both of you flinch at the low growl from the monster like entity in the movie. and to even make the atmosphere scarier, y'all jumped and screamed— almost waking up the neighbours —when both of you mistook layla's bark as some monster.

"babe, i think we should sleep", and that marks the end of your movie night, not even 30 minutes into the movie and your bodies are covered by the white duvet, cuddling close to each other.

such bravehearts, eh?

sunghoon (박성훈) 、 as soon as you step back after pressing the record button on your phone, sunghoon comes sprinting and sweeps you by your feet and twirls you out of the recording frame.

"ugh, hoonie!", you whine with upturned lips and kicking feet, with your boyfriend holding you up with his strong arms, "you entered at the wrong moment!"

"did i?", sunghoon was confused at first, but that expression soon wipes off his face when his eyes fall upon your pouty one. he smirks, "i don't think there's any wrong or right moment for me to pick you up in my arms, darling."

your twitching lips betray you. it opposes your expressions and matches your feelings, you couldn't help but smile down at your boyfriend who's already having heart eyes for you, and you feel blood rushing up to the tip of your ears.

"ok but do it properly this time hoon", you giggle. sunghoon lets you down to your feet, watching you run over to your phone again, resetting the tiktok recording.

this time you had to do it right, after all this can't go on till the sun peeks over the horizon and decides to wish you a good morning.

but as they say, third times the charm. this time the tiktok came out perfectly, just as you wanted to; with you looking over to the side before getting snatched away by your boyfriend in a lightening speed, and off the camera sunghoon presses soft kisses on your cheeks, soft hushed giggles filling the otherwise serene room. little affectionate moments meant only for you <3

and now the clock's almost hitting 1 am, hanged above your heads, under which the both of you scrolled past all the numerous, silly tiktoks you filmed. some with choreographies and planned lip syncs, and others just crack videos of you two, which the tiktok community will probably not see.

the night grows deeper and so does your love, but alongside the bag under your eyes </3

sunoo (김선우) 、 the pink clay mask feels cold on your skin, as you srunch up your face while sunoo applies it on you.

"don't do that, it can leave wrinkles!",sunoo exclaims although he moves his whole face a little too much with the half dry clay mask sitting cold on his own skin.

"oh, so i see how it is," you sigh, making a face full of faux melancholy, "you will not love me anymore once im all wrinkly and old."

"you know that's not true", with a clink sunoo keeps down the applicator on the washroom marble top, he swears he would pull you in the most endearing kiss if you two didn't have this pink moist layer on your faces, "and to answer your question, yes. i would still love you if you were a worm."

"but i didn't ask that question?!" "i know you would eventually."

you smile ear to ear, small wrinkles forming on the corners of your eyes as they squint and curve. sunoo's previous suggestion is completely ignored by you, and he himself doesn't abide by it, striking you a bright grin.

this little skincare session could've waited till the sunrise but what to say, your boredom took over and the next thing you know is doing each other's skincare routine.

"i love this face mask. it's pink and lavender scented", you mumbled to yourself, picking up the container sunoo just put down.

"but i don't smell lavender?", a frown forms on sunoo's face quickly as he scrunched up his nose, smelling the container lid again. and when he snatches the container from you and reads all over it, his eyes circle into horror.

"wait", he whispers, his face falling, "....is this expired?!"

jungwon (장정원) 、 "I can't sleep", you whisper while rolling over and practically letting all your body weight on your boyfriend laying next to you.

"me too", he sighs, tackling your body to his side of the bed and holding you close.

but the next thing you know is that you have your boyfriends blue and white hoodie on, standing in the middle of a random aisle in the 24/7 supermarket. you watch jungwon surf through the different snacks showcased in the aisle, and no matter how much he would compliment a different snack he would still buy the same chocolate strawberries.

"so what are we here for again?", sighing, you stand next to jungwon as he carefully reads the ingredients on the back of a cookie box, which you don't think will eventually make it's way to the empty shopping basket.

"weren't we bored? plus we can't sleep", jungwon mumbles and surprises you as he tosses the vanilla cookie box into the shopping basket.

"woah", your mouth forms an 'o' shape along with your eyebrows moving up, "what happed to the regular chocolate strawberries?"

"well i guess it's time for a change!", jungwon puts on a smug smile, knowing you despise vanilla cookies. but you are no better. you nod your head and your hands find their way to the mint chocolate ice cream box soon enough, "if you want vanilla cookies then i want mint choco."

"oh that's not happening", jungwon rolls his eyes, chasing after you down the aisle. "if you don't want it to happen then put down the cookies!", you give back an even meaner eye roll.

the supermarket total had six people inside it, including half asleep cashier and a punk teenager trio. they watched you enter and now they stood watching you both bickering, with jungwon insisting on the getting the cookies and you not letting go of the mint chocolate tub.

but at the end the basket is indeed carrying the chocolate strawberries to the counter, with your scowls turned into happy, content faces and bodies clinging to each other in the cold night.

riki (니시무라니키) 、 you have been urging riki for as long as forever, to go on a painting date in one of those aesthetic eat and draw cafés.

but our guy riki is efficient. he agrees yes, but on a random thursday. at quater to 1 am. in your house. on the already messy floor. instead of preparing for your final terms next weeks, you are busy painting each other in the most hilarious way possible.

"this is gonna be the bestest portrait of you, ever", riki chortles as he gathers his knees upto his chest, hiding his canvas behind them.

"uhh nobody has ever drawn a portrait of me?"

"that's why i'm the best boyfriend", he says proudly.

you already know what's going on on his canvas. last time he drew you, you could hardly recognize yourself except your outfit. you expect quite the same outcome for this time as well.

"ta-daaa~", riki finally reveals his long awaited portrait of you. you giggle at it and crawl your way to sit beside him. this one melts your heart, on the canvas riki doodled you and all your favourite stuff— from sanrio characters to ramen bowls, cats, skirts, coffee cups to even a small nishimura riki at the corner. he chirps, "how is it?"

you reply to him by pressing a kiss to his cheeks, watching them turn redder by the second. "cutest thing ever", you mumble, resting your head on his shoulders.

riki ruffles your hair and presses his cheek on top of your head.

but of course, this beautiful moment had to be ruined because you can't catch a breathe. your phone rings with a notification beside you and when you take a look at it, your back is straightened and a scowl takes upon your face.

"really now?! they preponded the exam!"

"o-oh no baby when is it?", a worried riki asks.

"tomorrow is my calculus paper!"

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @aueyi @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaasia111

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Tattoo Your Name Across My Heart — Nico Hischier

Synopsis; In which at a friends wedding Nico notices an alteration to your body.

Content Warning; fluff, pre-established relationship between reader and Nico, mentions of needles, tattoo, sexual innuendos at the end

Nico would never admit it but off season was something he enjoyed almost as much as playing hockey. More so after he met you and began to spend his off seasons with. But he mostly loved it for the sole fact most couples being made up of hockey players wed during off season. And Nico Hischier was a hopeless romantic.

Surprisingly the only wedding of the long awaited off season was Nico’s teammate Jesper and his long term girlfriend Nicole. Nico was ecstatic when Jesper and Nicole had asked both you and Nico to be apart of their wedding party as a bridesmaid and groomsmen.

Nico was glad that you were so dedicated to your role as Nicole’s bridesmaid but on the night of the bachelorette and bachelor parties he was nervous about what you’d been doing that night, but he trusted you and Nicole so he didn’t give it too much thought.

You knew switching from Casamigos to Pink Whitney mid way through the night was a bad decision. I mean how the hell else do you reason the current predicament you were in. Did you want a simple font or a dramatic font for your tattoo?

Somehow many many drinks in you agreed to get a tattoo of Nico’s jersey number on your body. Nicole, who was by far the most drunken of the group had squealed out that you should get it between your tits. While her maid of honor, Lucy had a little more common sense and encouraged you to get it on your arm.

So you sat on the bed as you let a tattoo artist alter your skin with a small simple number 13, right above your elbow. Part of you was worried that Nico would freak out when he saw it but you didn’t really care. If he reacted badly so be it, and if your relationship with Nico didn’t work out then the tattoo would just be a reminder of the love you had experienced. Plus you liked Taylor Swift so you could always pretend that’s why you got the number 13 on your body.

You were grateful that Nico didn’t seem to notice the tattoo before the wedding. The wedding ceremony was beautiful, the color scheme was perfect, the venue was beautiful and Nico looked fabulous. It wasn’t until you extended your arm to him to walk down the aisle that he noticed the small black ink on your arm.

Nico knew every inch of your body and he knew that you didn’t have any tattoos. But he couldn’t quite see the tattoo so he kept his mouth shut until after the wedding ceremony. You were standing at the bar waiting for the bartender to finish your drink. Nico’s voice came out smooth and steady as he leaned against the bar looking at you, “So nice tattoo Schatzi.”

Your shoulders tense at his words, “Are you mad?” Nico furrowed an eyebrow as he looked at you, sporting an expression as if to say ‘Are you kidding?’ He shook his head slightly as he grinned, “Could never be mad at you Schatzi. Besides it’s not everyday my incredibly sexy girlfriend gets my jersey number tattooed on her.” You grin as your eyes gleam, “So you like it?”

Nico shook his head in disbelief that you even had to ask, he stepped closer to you to the point you could feel his warm breath on your face, “No darling. I love it. Just wish it was somewhere only I can see it.” You hum at his insinuation, “Well maybe you’ll have to convince me and I’ll get your initials tattooed next.” Nico laughed as he pressed a warm kiss on your lips, “Don’t make any promises Schatzi or I might just have to marry you.” You grin, “Oh please you’d do that just because you want to.”

[fraugwinska]

Hey! Me again!

Could I get an Alastor x Female reader where she tells him she's pregnant, he's so stunned he thinks it a joke until she shows him the positive on the test and it shocks him to the core but after the initial shock he's overjoyed.

My dear jezebel <3 Thank you for being so patient! I took a few liberties from the ask, I really hope you don't mind! After a lot of rewrites and edits - I'm finally happy to share it with you! Thank you for the ask, my dearest! TW:Sickness&death-Light smut-Minors DNI-5.2k words

Autumn had always been your favorite season.

The most colorful of the four; from your bed you could always see various shades of red, orange, green and yellow, all mixed together to create a vibrant, warm impressionistic painting. Just looking at the bright shades outside had always made you smile.

There was also this peaceful ambiance around autumn that you could feel but not quite understand. Something so profound and yet ephemeral in a way.

"Should I close the window before I go?", Alice asked you, a sad smile on her face. Your favorite hospice nurse had spent her last shift before her holiday almost exclusively with you - somehow you both knew there wasn't much time left. The sickness that ate away at your body was unforgiving - you knew it was simply a matter of days now, and even that was generous. Alice must've sensed it, too.

"No, no.", you replied with a warm smile. "Leave it open. The night nurse can close it later."

Alice nodded, said her goodbyes and gave you a kiss on the head before exiting the room, carefully closing the heavy wooden door with a thud of painful finality. Breathing had become painful lately, but despite the sting you inhaled deeply, just to burn the smell of bristle leafs and warm wood into your memory. Right next to the memory of him.

Alastor.

Summoning him hadn't been easy, especially since you were bedridden and almost constantly monitored. Not only did you have to take special care of choosing the right night to be left unsupervised - you had to bribe Alice and make her believe it was her own idea to give you a few hours to be on your own, which you claimed to need desperately. The internet had been your biggest friend in the weeks before, preparing - you had used the time you had at your disposal to research on shady websites and occult forums who to summon, how to do the ritual and, in case he said no, which bargain to offer. And you chose Alastor.

It was the name that spoke to you the most - Unusual. Mature. Vintage. Mysterious. Powerful and yet gentle, in it's own way. 'Mans defender'. 'Avenger'. The more you read about him on dubious servers and obscure wiki's, the more you were sure it should be him. Still able to use your hands back then, in the chosen night you managed to follow all of the instructions perfectly, even while bound to your bed. When the living shadow appeared out of nowhere, twisting and contorting into the shape of a tall, handsome, dapper dressed demon, the tiny handheld radio you had in your hands slid from your weakened grip and your heart skipped a beat. As he stepped nearer, the perceived humanity of his appearance disappeared before your eyes - long, black fingers ending in red talons, small antlers sitting in between fluffy crimson-colored ears, razor-sharp teeth and blood-red irises shining with curiosity. He stopped just a foot away in front of your bed. As he began to talk, to introduce himself - as though being summoned by gravely sick human women were the norm - you stopped him with a raise of your hand, the action draining your already weakened body and mind.

"I know who you are. Alastor, the Radio Demon."

"My reputation precedes me, then!", he chimed, his voice pointed, melodic and so enchantingly and contradictorily full of life. His whole posture, his devious smile and the way his eyes glinted in the dim moonlight made it very clear that he was a dangerous creature, and yet, you felt strangely at ease.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this summoning, my dear?"

You swallowed hard, knowing full well that if you wanted him to accept your deal, you needed to choose your words carefully.

"I... I am dying."

Alastor's grin twitched, but he said nothing, only tilted his head and waited for you to continue, hands folded behind his back.

"I've been sick my whole life, I...", you felt the need to explain, so that your offer wouldn't sound so... well, pitiful.

"Ever since I was born, I have been bound first to my crib, then to a bed, the hospital and now this hospice. I have never been allowed or even able to go to school, or make friends, or just... do things that children ought to do. Even though my life was always going to be short lived."

You could feel tears forming in your eyes, but blinked them away - you didn't want to cry in front of him, you felt pathetic as you were already. "I missed out on every milestone, every first experience a girl should have. First trip to a park, first day at school, first friend, first kiss, first... everything. And I'll miss out on so many more. I just want to have one normal thing, one 'first' before I die. One memory of a real and happy experience. Of something good."

"And what, pray tell, would that be?", he asked, a brow raised, his smile growing wider. He could probably hear the beating of your heart as you took a deep breath. This was it. Now or never.

"I want to lose my virginity."

The silence following your calmly stated confession was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. It took a while for Alastor to say something.

"Oh my, you really don't mince words, do you, darling?"

You shook your head.

"I have no time to waste. Every second counts."

"Believe me, little one, I'm quite... flattered that you'd go through the trouble of a summoning ritual for this... let's call it: venture. But... why me? Aren't there any men up here you would rather be with?"

"Have you looked at me?", you laughed bitterly. "I'm a sick, dying 20-something in a hospice bed. No man would ever so much as touch me. If I'd even get to meet anyone, since I can't get out of this bed anymore without a nurse. I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, not even money. I have only my soul. Please."

The last word came out as a whisper. Alastor's eyes glowed red in the growing darkness, his grin ever-present. He seemed to consider it for a moment, the sound of humming static the only sound in the room and you feared he might reject you.

"If I were to agree, would you truly be willing to pay the price for it? Your soul, darling, is a very precious thing. Do you know the implications of it's loss?"

You nodded.

"Yes. You can have it. It's not worth anything anyway."

Alastor stepped forward, his eyes locked with yours. He didn't sit down on the bed, instead he stood right beside you, bending over until his face was just inches from yours, the back of his hand lightly brushing your fringe out of your face. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of blood and something earthy, like wet soil or moss. He smelled like a forest in autumn.

"It is worth quite a bit, actually. More than you can imagine, I'd wager.", his voice was quiet, almost unfiltered and utterly beautiful. "But I can see you are dead set on it - Pardon the wordplay."

His sharp claw pressed into your skin, eliciting a gasp. He followed the curve of your cheek to your chin, lifting it to better access the side of your neck, just under your jaw. Your skin broke out in goosebumps because for the first time in your life, you felt a touch that was not clinical, not meant to treat you or wastefully bide you more time. This touch was gentle and purposeful. Sensual, maybe. A soft sigh escaped you against your will.

Alastor let out a hum that was not entirely unhappy, before bringing his face dangerously close to yours. You could feel the ends of his fluffy hair tickling your face, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against your skin.

"A happy memory, you say. One satisfying experience in return for your soul. I am certainly not usually known for my kindness, dear.", he muttered against the skin of your cheek, before turning towards your lips. So close. Your heart was beating as loud and as fast as it could, making you dizzy. "But I think we have ourselves a deal."

The golden hour has passed, turning bright orange light into fading blue to black. And the air was turning colder. The memory of that night was the only thing you thought about as you slowly felt death approaching.

The way his lips felt against your mouth, his tongue and the sweet taste he left on your lips that still lingered whenever you ran yours across them, recalling the sensation just once more. He had been gentle, patient, always asking and never assuming or forceful. He made sure you were comfortable before exploring you, careful in the places he touched, mindful in tasting you, praising you for the sounds you made. He allowed you to do your share of exploring, too, and although he wasn't human you found his body still wonderfully, beautifully male, no matter his thin, soft taupe fur and his many, shimmering scars. The memory of the moment when he had finally filled you, tender and slow, was as much sweet pain as it was blissful pleasure, and you found solace in his warmth and the steady, rhythmic pace of him moving inside you as you spilled his name, over and over again until he spent himself inside you, bodies deeply connected. It was hard for you to believe that all of it had been actually true, and not just one big fever dream your dying mind had cooked up to send you off gently when Alice woke you from your sleep later that night, wondering aloud why you didn't turn off the little, handheld radio on the floor that was still playing soft jazz music.

But the little, red and blue marks on your collarbones and the one red-and-black strand of hair you had found on your pillow were telltale signs that everything had been indeed real, and you made sure every detail was etched into your heart, into your body and into your skin. It was, and would remain forever, the happiest moment of your entire life.

'I hope my soul is worth enough...' you thought as the coldness finally embraced you, tears running freely down your cheeks now, but the smile on your face was wide and warm, and the last thing you heard before falling into your final sleep was the gentle hum of a breeze that brought in the smell of earth and rain and leaves.

Alastor had no need for sleep. He usually didn't spend his nights sitting in his favorite chair, motionless, listening to music. He was far too busy, too full of life and plans and energy to sit around and just wait for morning. And yet, there he was, sitting and brooding for the last month, every night, his ears tuned in on the low, static-y noise coming from the old-fashioned radio he was holding. A radio eerily similar to hers.

'How did it come to this?', he wondered for the thousandth time, like a broken record. 'Why did I do it?'

He couldn't fathom the reason for his actions that night, why he had given in to the strange, frivolous request of the frail young woman. Why he had agreed to take her virginity, of all things, in exchange for her soul. Granted, she wasn't the first to offer him that, not by far. But usually, the soul was the last thing a sinner offered, after a great many things of lesser value had been already offered and declined in return. It was, in essence, the most desperate measure, taken only by those who had nothing else to lose.

And yet, she had promised him her soul in the very beginning, treating it not as a valuable bargaining chip, but as an expendable object. A thing without use or worth. He didn't know what had intrigued him so much that night. She had been sickly and fragile, her skin almost translucent in the pale light, and yet there was a spark in her eye. Determination, maybe. Her voice had been strong, if quiet, and her smile, although sad, was still familiarly bright. The way she spoke and her body language had made it clear that she had been not as much afraid of him, despite her frail and vulnerable position, as she had been anxious about his response. She was clearly clever and resolute, despite her lack of personal experience. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to follow through the summoning ritual.

"I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, no money. O only have my soul. Please."

He couldn't remember a single instance where someone had begged him with the simple word please and he gave into it. And yet, he had accepted her plea - The whole of her soul, in exchange for a meager, single moment of ridiculous passion. The mere thought had repulsed him before: Body on body, blunt thumps of fleshes, debauched obscenities... it was something that had never held his interest. He felt like it was something unrefined and animalistic, something he had always regarded as unnecessary and obsolete. Until then.

Her body had responded so eagerly, so sensitive, so ready to his touches. It had been clear she hadn't lied about her virginity, and yet her eagerness, her fearlessness had surprised him. Acting solely based on instinct and the morals he was brought up with, no real experience of his own himself, he had tried to be as careful and gentle as he could, and somehow, her inexperience had made it... easier. She was not expecting anything in terms of skill, and thus he had to guide her through the process, allowing him to set the pace and giving him ample time to react to her reactions. Sweet gasps, subtle tremors, faint flushes - all of which had told him how she had felt, what had been pleasurable and what had been uncomfortable. He had been able to take his time and make sure she enjoyed herself. It had been fascinating and even... pleasurable for him, too.

Despite the obvious pain, she had kept her eyes open, watching his face intently as they connected. He had felt the warmth and the tension around him, and her little, breathy gasps had been such pleasant sounds that when she had finally found her release, it had triggered his own, foreign as it had been. She had sighed his name in pure bliss, and in that moment he had felt as powerful and as satisfied as the night he had gained his title as Radio Demon.

And when the deed had been done, the girl had smiled so serenely, he was sure he had rarely ever seen anything that could rival her in beauty.

Alastor shifted uncomfortably at that thought, trying to will away the memory and the sensation that the mere thought of her smile invoked.

It had taken a few minutes, but eventually he had collected himself and put his clothes back on. Her eyes had followed him, the spark back in them and even brighter than before, her smile not faltering even when her tired lids had drooped down, slowly lulling her to sleep. Alastor had stood there, in the small, plain hospice room, watching her for a while, a strange feeling in his chest. The deal hadn't been solidified by a handshake, her soul not yet firmly bound to him and the contract void if not officially sealed, but he couldn't bring himself to wake her. Something had stopped him.

The memory of her face, pale and beautiful, smiling so peacefully even in her slumber, made the corners of his lips twitch. She would've made a magnificent addition to his collection of souls. And yet, and yet... He had decided then and there that her soul would find its way to him, eventually. But not through the proposed deal. So, he had left, the exchange unfulfilled, the pact broken, turning on the small radio she had let slip onto the floor just as he heard her caretaker returning to check on her.

'Oh, how the mighty have fallen.', he mused bitterly, a small laugh escaping his lips.

"Alastor?"

Charlie's voice was a mix of concern and curiosity, muffled by the thick, wooden door of his room. She sounded worried, probably wondering why he had excused himself from the hotel's interactions more and more for the past weeks. He was about to ignore her, not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially not her, persistent thing that she was, but when her soft knock followed her call, his smile widened tightly and his eyes flashed red.

"Charlie, dear, I'm afraid I'm not available at the moment.", he called out, his tone a bit sharper than usual.

"Sorry, but...", the princess sounded hesitant, and he could hear her shuffle awkwardly outside. "It's just... There is someone in the lobby, wanting to speak to you. It seems... important."

He got up from his chair with an annoyed sigh and switched off the radio, straightened his clothes and smoothed out his hair and bow tie with one swipe. Whatever business matter was brought forward, Alastor didn't feel like discussing it. The smile he wore was razor sharp and dark, a result of his annoyance and brooding mood, and yet he couldn't bring himself to feign his cheery personality just quite yet. Maybe this mystery visitor would be a suitable punching bag to let off some of that steam.

When Alastor finally opened the door and walked down to the lobby next to a flustered looking Charlie, his breath hitched involuntarily and he froze mid-stride. Charlie stumbled at the sudden lack of motion next to her, the deafening static sound and the chime-like tuning of a radio startling her so much she flinched away from him.

"H-Hey Al!?", she called in shock, "Are you okay?"

He didn't move, didn't even react - his attention was solely focused on the figure standing at the front-desk, who, just a moment ago, had talked to Husker before turning around upon hearing him.

Hell kept her skin white and almost translucent in it's spite, but granted her soft, shimmering silvery fur in it's mercy. Her frame wasn't thin and frail anymore, she looked plush and healthy, soft curves where there had been nothing more than skin and bone before. Keeping almost all of her human features intact, the small, round ears protruding from her hair, the pink-tipped nose and the long and slender tail were definitely characteristics of a dormouse, their ends almost silver and soft-looking. Her eyes were of the same gentle color that he remembered, and when her lips spread into a sad, tender smile his breath was stolen away completely.

It was the same smile. The very one he hadn't been able to purge from his mind, and most likely never would.

"Alastor."

The sound of her voice, quiet and melodic as it had been weeks before, felt like an invisible touch that pulled the air out of him. Not enough to suffocate him, but he was still reeling none the less.

"So you finally succumbed, it seems..."

His usual bravado was absent, his voice lacked it's sharp, jovial tone, sounding more like he was actually talking. Charlie could do little more but watch with widened eyes, seemingly unable to fathom the scene right in front of her.

"What are you talking about, Alastor? How do you know...", the princess spoke carefully and uncertain, her eyes wandering from one demon to another, but she was quickly interrupted, not by him, but by...

"It's a long story better told another time, Miss Charlie.", she said with a genuine smile on her face, still not able to take her eyes off Alastor. She took a few tentative steps towards him, careful, but certain in her movement, a confidence about her that hadn't been there before. Her head tilted in an enigmatic way and she spoke again, this time solely directed at him.

"I'm truly sorry to impose. But I was hoping we could talk... privately."

Alastor nodded mutely, not able to think clearly, before taking a deep breath and straightening his back to tower over her once again. Husk seemed to notice his shift in composure, raising a brow when he passed him by on his way back behind the bar, noticing the strangely satisfied looking smile on Alastor's face that was as unnerving and frightening as always, but with a different tint that even Husk must've trouble placing guessing by the suspicious look that fell over the cat's face.

"Of course, my dear, my office will suffice. If you'll excuse us, Charlotte? We'll be only a short while."

He didn't wait for her response but took his guest by her arm and guided her past an astonished Husk and clearly confused Charlie, leading the girl down the hall and to his office, the air between them thick with something undefinable, and neither of them dared to speak until the heavy mahogany door fell shut, effectively cutting off all outside interference.

Her cheeks were flushed when she stepped closer towards him. The tips of his claws brushed against her fringe, following the curve of her soft ear, across the back of her delicate neck to pluck a strand of her hair, pulling it towards him and running the silky fiber between two fingers and over the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his lips with a deep, pleased inhale.

She looked up at him, her smile shy but hopeful.

"You remember me.", she said with a chuckle, her voice a bit higher, her ears twitching and her tail swaying behind her, showing her emotions all too easily. Alastor nodded, not letting go of her hair just yet.

"How could I not, dear. It's not common for me to leave a contract unsettled, you know."

"I had a feeling that might've been the case, since it took me so long to find you.", she said quietly. "So, my soul..."

"... is still yours, yes."

She wasn't looking at him, directly. Her gaze went over his suit, to his hands and cane, then back to the floor.

"Why?", she asked, a hint of confusion and hurt in her voice, her silken hair slipping from his fingers.

"Why didn't you claim it? You had every right, after all. I offered, you agreed and..."

Alastor didn't speak, couldn't speak. The answer was right on the tip of his tongue, and yet he wasn't sure if he wanted to share it. It felt... strange, and foreign, and not quite comfortable. But it was undeniably true, now - with her in front of him - clearer than any time in the last weeks in his chair, each night, in front of the fireplace.

He wanted her. Not just her soul. Her. So, he settled on silence and a half-truth, instead.

"It wasn't the right time, dear."

Her face turned to him, her eyes searching his. He felt exposed, like her eyes were piercing him.

"And now...?"

"That remains to be seen. Why are you here?", he countered, stepping back to put a more comfortable distance between them.

"I came to see you, because..." She swallowed hard, and Alastor watched her throat, the soft swell of her breasts under her modest blouse, the slight rise of her belly. "When I arrived in hell, I felt... weird. I thought it was because of all the changes, this new body and... generally being here. But it didn't go away, this.... feeling. I made friends with a lovely imp couple, they took me in after I fell. The wife, Millie, took me to a doctor because she got worried when I couldn't stop throwing up..."

Her face grew hot, a flush spreading across her cheeks, her ears folding back against her head.

"Alastor, I'm pregnant."

A loud bang rang through the hallway as Alastor dropped his cane and a deafening feedback noise filled the room. For the first time in what must have been decades, his face betrayed him completely, the smile ripping at the sewn edges as it dropped violently. He felt dizzy and his head was spinning.

"Impossible.", he breathed, the word almost getting stuck in his throat. The very notion was ridiculous, unheard of - clearly that must be a crude joke. Alastor started to laugh, though sounding not as amused and booming as he would've hoped, but more hysterical than anything else.

She stayed silent, looking at him with sad, but serious and almost pleading eyes as the truthfulness of her confession began to sink in and his laughter slowly died. He took a tentative step forward, a million questions running through his head, the sheer amount overwhelming his usually so precise mind.

"So, a month ago, it...", he stopped, feeling the corners of his mouth pull wider.

"...yes. The doctor told me there are only a handful similar cases like this known since hell was created... The circumstances are 'too specific' and it normally takes a vast amount of intimate interactions' between a hellbound sinner and a living, fertile human he said... Seems like you knocked me up with one round, buster." She wrung her hands, her smile forced and unsure. "Listen, Alastor... I know it sounds impossible. I mean, I couldn't believe it at first when he told me so I understand you can't, too... but I don't expect anything, I really don't. I just... I wanted to see you again, and-and you deserve to know, and..."

"Darling, hush.", Alastor interrupted, a sense of clarity taking hold of his chaotic mind. He had never felt a desire for a family, not in his lifetime nor in his death. Partners were liabilities and a distraction, relationships nuisances if they strayed beyond the borders of business or at the very most friendly aquaintances. He had no need for things like these in the past, looking down on people desperate to seek out partners, claiming to be lonely when in truth they were just weak or simply starving for a touch of the 'opposite sex' to make up for their own inadequacy.

Now, faced with the reality of fatherhood in a matter of minutes and the prospect of his life being bound to another - one who, undoubtedly, bore his child, no less - Alastor would be lying if he had claimed a part of him didn't absolutely reel at the prospect. A responsibility greater than his own had just fallen into his lap - a vulnerability he never asked for and certainly didn't expect.

But.

A part of him would come into the world, no matter whether it would look human, or demonic like him, or whatever strange combination of them both: This child would be proof of him. Him, not anyone else. There would be a person dependent on him for guidance and protection, a legacy he would be allowed to leave, a lineage that could one day claim that he, Alastor, had been the founding cause. His legacy. His blood and his seed had created another being against all rules and logic, an offspring, maybe a girl, maybe it would resemble him, or her, or even... his mother.

Despite the incredulity and the sheer panic the revelation brought, the longer he looked at the tiny dormouse in front of him, the more he realized how similar her traits were to his own mother's. Soft, but determined. Sad, but brave. Young but aged.

No, this hadn't been just some fleeting fling - Alastor had to believe in fate, given what she told him. There had been a reason why he didn't seal the deal that night. Why he had agreed to her request so easily. The more Alastor thought about the potential of a shared offspring, along with a loyal partner on his side, about the what-ifs and could-bes, the more appealing and pleasant the future appeared. She was carrying a being he created, one that had his essence – All the more stronger his grin widened, stretching so far it caused his cheeks to ache, but his blooming glee knew no bounds. He saw, to his own surprise, not a weakness or vulnerability.

But his greatest achievement.

With a laugh, this time sincere and booming and loud instead of hysterical, he picked her up on her waist, knocking the air out of her in a gasp, and swung her around several times.

"O-oh! Oh my goodness!", she stuttered, eyes wide and brows furrowed. "Alastor, calm down!"

"Oh, no no no, I simply can't! Dear, do you have any idea what a marvel you have wrought!?", he exclaimed in delight, setting her back down and bringing both hands up to her cheeks. "We've created a magnificent abomination!"

Her head shook as she chuckled, still nervous but with an edge of relief in her voice. "That's certainly one way of saying it. But... are... are you saying that... you are okay with it? That you..."

"What, dear?", he cooed, her big eyes shining hopefully as her ears twitched curiously. His chest swelled with affection, and he gently squeezed her cheeks between his hands.

"Does a daddy on your side scare you, darling?"

"N-No-oh."

The title invoked a peculiar reaction, and he made a mental note to use it again soon enough, as her cheeks flushed in a dusty rose. Alastor felt an unfamiliar and somehow primal pleasure at the sight of it, a surge of happiness in his chest, the warmth of it nearly too much. He pulled her face against his, smothering her with a kiss. He wasn't familiar with such embraces, but she felt like she was specifically molded to fit perfectly into him, her ears flicking with every beat of her racing heart.

There were tears welling in her beautiful eyes, and as he kissed her cheeks and brushed them away with his thumbs. Oh yes, Alastor was filled with a new kind of giddy excitement.

"Come on, dear, let's not waste time to spread the good news!", he exclaimed, unable to reign his euphoric mood, and before she could comment on his actions, he reached out and lifted her over his shoulder in one fluid movement, ignoring her startled squawk. The look of utter bewilderment on her face almost made him break out into more laughter, but he was already out the door, ready to take his child's mother, who was, without a doubt in his mind, bound to him forever with a force much stronger than any deal he could've made, downstairs to tell the news to his fellow friends, who would have no choice but to learn what a truly dangerous deal looked like.

[beenbaanbuun]

meet me in the woods w/ Mingi

words - 3.5k

genre - fluff, friends to lovers, college!au

warnings - emo!mingi, drummer!mingi, pink!mingi, fangirl!reader, kissing, mentions of seasonal depression, mentions of a broken ankle, reader is down bad, so is mingi, they’re both idiots in love, kind of groping but not really sexual

————————————————

there’s still a chill in the air as the seasons flip from winter to spring. it shows in the way the air around you fogs up with every breath you exhale and the way the skin of your exposed thighs pricks up in little bumps. realistically you should’ve worn a pair of jeans rather than a skirt, but that would defeat the point of this whole thing you had going on. a sort of good-riddance-to-winter protest, in which you try to ignore the fact that winter was very much still in play.

although you have to admit you may have been a little too eager. you claim to have your reasons to pretend that winter is already over, but even those reasons seem a little obsolete as you sit on the picnic table awning, shivering every few seconds. perhaps your way of saying goodbye to your particularly bad bout of seasonal depression will have to be shoved to the back of your closet for a few more weeks. just until you're sure you won’t get frostbite.

you shuffle back a few inches, just enough to give yourself room to swing your legs back onto the awning. you have to go down the way you came up; that was a lesson you’d learned the hard way. a broken ankle and a particularly long lecture from your mother about making ‘sensible decisions’ was not something you care to repeat. she, of course, would blow a fuse if she knew you still frequent this spot years later, but what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. besides, you’re well trained in how to get up and down from your favourite thinking spot, now.

you already have one leg up when you hear a creek coming from behind you. your neck twists in time to see a hand slam itself down on the wooden surface, fingers splayed as they work their hardest to pull the attached body higher up. you recognise the rings like the back of your hand and as you watch mingi struggle, you can’t help but sigh.

“how many times have i told you how to get up here?” you grumble, loud enough for him to hear over his own strained grunts. the single hand that you can see moves until you can see a middle finger pointed in your direction, and you have to laugh, “you seriously can’t remember? right hand on the roof, left foot on the fence, and push yourself up.”

even without seeing his face you can tell he’s rolling his eyes at you. he’s heard this lecture from you a bajillion times before, and yet he never learns. it’s always right hand, right foot and pull with him - almost the exact opposite of how you instruct him.

“have you considered that i’m, like, twice the size of you?” he says as he corrects his form and finally manages to raise himself up. he swings his right knee onto the platform and rolls his gangly form onto it. you’ve seen more grace from a new-born horse, but you keep that to yourself as you watch him sit himself up and shuffle closer.

“if anything that would make it easier for you, y’know, since you don’t have to jump to reach the roof.”

you turn your body back to how it was, dropping your legs again so you can swing them over the ledge. the platform looks out over nothing but forest, and you quickly find a particular branch to focus your eyes on as the giant sits in his spot next to you. your hands subconsciously brush over the pair of initials that have been scratched into the wood when you were both teenagers. a small, neat set done with a whittling knife stolen from your father, sitting just beneath a much larger, much messier SMG that mingi had done with the biggest kitchen knife he could find. his mother never did discover how her carving knife missing for a few hours only to return to the knife block covered in moss and dirt.

“yeah, yeah,” he mutters as he drops his legs down to swing them at the side of yours. your pink sneakers look a little out of place besides his platform doc martin’s that he always wears, despite not needing the extra height, but somehow the contrast feels natural to you, “i thought i’d find you up here. went to your dorm to search for you but your roommate said you were out.”

“and you assumed i was here?” he nods, not bothering to look at you. he too has found a distant branch to focus on.

“where else would you be?” he nudges you with an elbow, “god knows you don’t go to your lectures…”

he’s right about that. you’d given up on college very early into freshman year, and yet you’re somehow still passing. not well, you have to admit, but enough to get a degree at the end of the year.

“my classes suck, mingi,” you clarify as you rip your focus away from that one specific branch. looking at the same thing was getting kind of boring, you realise, so instead you lay down on the dirty wood and stare up at the canopy. the february sun only just pokes through the fir-canopy, dousing you in just enough light to make your skin a little warmer. there was that heat you were hoping for earlier, “why would i go to them when clearly i can pass without?”

“fair point.”

you close your eyes, basking in the light that bathes you. there’s still a slight breeze that makes the fir needles rustle above you, a few of them raining down whenever a particularly strong gust comes along. one lands on your thigh, but it’s quickly brushed off and replaced by mingi’s warm hand. he must’ve been keeping it in the pocket of his oversized korn hoodie, you think to yourself as he squeezes your thigh.

the hoodie is an old favourite of yours. you’d bought it for him a couple of years ago, and it had soon joined what you like to call ‘the elites’ - the small collection of about three hoodies that he had in permanent rotation. it fit him better now than when you first bought it for him. he’d bulked up a lot, after all.

you still couldn’t get the sweet image of him opening the gift with a wide grin on his face out of your head.

he kissed your cheek on that day.

you always seem to blush at the memory.

“why did you come searching for me, anyway?” you say after a few moments of silence. his hand remains firm on your thigh, fingers drumming a rhythm against your leg gently, “don’t you have cooler people to be hanging out with?”

he hums, “all the cool people i know are busy today,” you swing your foot to the side to kick his shin. he lets out a laugh at the little tap - he knows you can kick harder than that - before giving your thigh a gentle tap in return, “besides, maybe i want to hear about all your little kpop groups.”

you scoff at him.

“no, you don’t.”

“no,” mingi agrees, “i don’t. but i do want to spend time with my favourite little fangirl.”

you giggle at him, opening your eyes just in time to see him turn to you with a wonky grin on his face. it seems he’s bored of staring at his branch too since his gaze doesn’t go back to it after a few seconds. it remains on you, boba-pearl pupils staring into your own as the rays of sun make them glisten.

he looks cute like this, you think to yourself. his short pink hair rustles as the wind blows it about. for a man who made so much fuss about the colour when you first dyed it, it has taken him a long time for him to go back to the bleach blonde that he loves so much. part of you likes to think it’s so he can match your own pastel pink hair - that’s a normal thing for best friends to do, right? - but you also know that he’s fiercely protective over his hair and definitely wouldn’t keep it just for your sake.

it needs a trim, you think to yourself as you watch it brush against his eyebrows. you wonder if he’ll let you do it again. he hated it the last time, so you assume the answer will be no. then again, there’s no harm in asking, right? you make a mental note to do so later, wanting nothing more than to see the same cute pout he wore last time you butchered his hair. it’s an expression that he only ever wears around you, much like that sweet smile he’d had moments prior. it’s a softness that he keeps close to his chest, a far cry from the cool exterior he tries to keep when he’s around everyone else. not that you mind the tougher side of him - it’s hot… really hot - but the sweet giggles and adorable nose scrunches will always be your favourite things about him.

“you said everyone else was busy?” you mutter, not bothering to break eye contact to go back to sunbathing. he takes the hint, and brings his legs fully onto the platform so he can face you fully. it’s much better, you think, this way you can see him more clearly, “what are they doing?”

he shrugs.

“i don’t know,” he begins to rub your thigh up and down subconsciously. he does it a lot when he’s talking. if it’s not your thigh - which it usually always is - then it’s his own, or the arm of a chair. it’s just something to keep his hands busy, you suppose, “i think some of the guys wanted to go over melodies, which they don’t need me for. jongho was saying he thinks it’d be cool if there’s a section where his voice and san’s guitar are kind of in sync? i don’t know, it sounds cool in theory but i don’t know if san’s guitar style necessarily matches jongho’s vocal style well enough to do that.”

you watch as his face lights up, just like it always does when he talks about music, or his band. he could talk about their newest ideas for hours, and most of the time you let him. you like to listen to the way his voice rises an octave when he gets excited, and watching his facial expressions never gets old. you love the way he talks with one hand, all while keeping the other firmly on your thigh; or his, or the arm of a chair. it’s nice to see him still so passionate about all the same things he was as a teenager. sometimes you’re even sure you can feel his excitement for him.

it feels an awful lot like butterflies in your stomach.

“and i mean, i know i’m just the drummer but,” you quirk your eyebrow at him and he stops himself talking. a pink flush rises over his face as he realises his slip up, “i didn’t mean just the drummer, i just meant that as the drummer, i don’t know as much about the music theory side as the guitarists do… i hit things, y’know?”

“you hit things very well, though,” you tease, using a manicured finger to poke at his knee. he catches it with the hand that isn’t occupied by your thigh and just holds onto it. its another thing he does a lot; not quite holding your hand, but definitely toeing the line, “and that’s coming from me!”

he rolls his eyes at you, and you were sure that if both his hands weren’t occupied with some other part of your body, he’d make the effort to lean forwards and place a finger over your lips to shush you. again, touching your lips like that it’s just something he does with you, just like almost holding your hands, and playing with your thighs. it’s all completely normal best friend stuff…

except you weren’t this touchy with any other guy. the last time you let a man get this close to you was when wooyoung tried to teach you guitar by moving your fingers into the correct positions for you. there was barely any contact between the two of you, and yet mingi sulked for days. part of you wanted to call it strange, but when you spotted him giving a pretty emo girl his drumsticks after a show, you gave him much of the same attitude.

you wouldn’t call it jealousy, per se, although maybe there was a little bit. mingi was your best friend after all. you have something special with him. something different that you have with no one else and you feel a way that you feel with no one else and-

oh.

oh.

suddenly the hand on your thigh felt very heavy, and you noticed the way his fingertips gently dip under the hem. had they been doing that the whole time? and you couldn’t help but feel like the way his thumb rubbed against the tip of your finger so softly had some type of further meaning behind it. not to mention the neutral yet unbelievably gentle look that took over his features, making him look even more pretty than usual in the scattered rays of light.

his lips were parted every so slightly, revealing that single wonky tooth that you found oh-so adorable. for a second you wondered what they would feel like against your skin, but you soon shunned the thought away as you remembered, oh yeah, the korn sweater. you’d felt them before. you know just how soft and gentle they are. it’s something that often plays on your mind and every time it does, you feel that same burst of excitement built up in your stomach. the one you get when mingi speaks about his passions. the one that feels like butterflies.

it is butterflies. fuck, it’s the whole damn zoo! a stampede of elephants charging though your body each and every time he does something that you find even mildly endearing. it just so happens that you find damn near everything he does endearing. you’d think those elephants would be tired of running by now…

“mingi,” you sigh, breath coming out in a plume of mist. you’d forgotten how cold it was in his presence. being around him just seemed to warm you up, “mingi, come here.”

he furrows his brow, but shuffles a tad closer. you almost groan in disappointment as he takes his hand away from your thigh, the skin immediately growing cold at the lost contact.

“what’s up, sunshine?” you feel em your eyes go wide at the nickname. you don’t know why; he uses it for you all the time.

“mingi, i’m confused… and a little scared,” you admit, although you didn’t know whether it was necessarily the truth. it was probably the closest word to describe how you were feeling though. with the way your heart was threatening to beat through your chest, and the way your stomach churned with nerves and the way your stupid brain had only just managed to catch up with how you had felt all along. it hurt, and it was painful and confusing and yeah, scared was probably a pretty good description.

“scared?” his voice grows serious as his eyes scan you up and down. once he sees that you’re fine physically, they return to your face. he looks just as confused as you feel, “what are you scared about? are you okay? hurt?”

you shake your head, taking in a deep, shaky breath. you let it out in yet another cloud of fog and watch at it floats away into nothing. you wish your butterflies, elephants, would do the same. it would make this whole thing so much easier.

“i’m fine, mingi,” you say, “just scared.”

“can you tell me why?” you nod, although it takes everything in you to do so.

“i want to kiss you,” you admit.

“kiss… me?”

you nod again, feeling a familiar heat rise to your face. the same one you get whenever mingi compliments you, or touches you. you can't believe it’s taken this long to finally figure it all out. it all feels so obvious now.

“i mean… yeah?” he stutters, “kiss me, yeah… yeah that sounds okay- i mean good! it sounds good… kissing, that is.”

if you weren’t feeling completely and utterly out of your depth, you’d have giggled at him. cutie pie you think to yourself before the heat in your body immediately gets more intense, and the elephants not only increase in number but in size too.

it’s now or never. before you can talk yourself out of it, you need to kiss him. because talking yourself out of it could be so easy. you could hop off of the awning, run back to your car and drive back to your dorm. sure, it would hurt when you would inevitably have to lock yourself away in embarrassment and never see mingi again, but time heals all wounds, right? and by the time you’re 50, the pain and embarrassment will have definitely almost healed over…

“so?” he mutters, pulling you back from the fantasy your brain had created, “are you going to do it?”

“i, uh…”

“i mean, i can if you want me to,” he shrugs, trying his hardest to play it cool as if he hadn’t been stuttering seconds prior. as if his face wasn’t just as pink as the mop of hair that sat atop it.

there is nothing cool about this man, you think to yourself as you push yourself into a sitting position. maybe that’s why you’re so attracted to him. his nerdy tendencies had tugged you in, and he’d worked his dorky little ways on you until you were hook line and sinker for him.

down bad, as the kids say. down so horrifically bad…

“i can do it,” you whisper as you look up at him with wide eyes. your lips are mere inches from his own, and his hot breath fans across your cold face. his eyes are on yours just briefly before they flicker down to your lips. they rested there for a second before making their way back up to yours, “i can kiss you,” you whisper.

“you can,” he mutters back, bringing his own face close enough to yours that you’re not even sure a sheet of paper would slip between the two of you. his tongue darts out to wet his own lips, gently brushing against yours too. your breath hitches as your last sliver of resolve vanishes. that’s it, you tell yourself, you can’t hold back anymore.

the tiny gap is closed as you press forwards, slamming your lips against his. your fingers shoot up to lace themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, and his find a home on your waist. his eyelashes flutter against your face as he shuts his eyes, and you follow his lead, doing the same. it’s nice, you realise, the darkness letting you focus on how his lips feel moving slowly against your own. they fit perfectly, like they were always meant to be there.

he deepens the kiss briefly, tilting his head ever so slightly to get a better angle. it’s a little rougher at this angle, but you can’t find it in you to mind as he takes control. the desperation you feel from him as he moves his lips harshly against your own was something you feel yourself, so you let him take what he needs, taking just as much in return.

and by the time he pulls away, you’re both panting. rapid and hard and together. his lips have barely left your own as he catches his breath, but you don’t pull back either.

“fuck,” he mumbles against your lips, “that was… nice?”

“yeah,” you agree. ‘nice’ seems the best way to describe it, although it was so much more than just that, “it was nice, wasn’t it?”

“so nice, sunshine,” he says. a few beats of a silence pass before he presses his lips against yours again, this time for a much shorter, much more innocent peck. you can’t help but giggle as he pulls away. there’s a grin on his face too, “wish we’d done it sooner, though.”

you nod, “yeah, me too.”

“but we have all the time in the world, right?”

he pecks you again. this one lasts a few milliseconds longer than the last, not that you’re counting. when he pulls away, you chase it. another peck, this time led by you, but equally as brief as the other two. it’s his turn to chuckle.

“cute,” he grins, “you’re so cute.”

you get shy under his words and pull back just a tad. the grip he has on your waist refuses to let you go too far from him. you don’t mind; not at all. the fact he wants you so close actually sends the elephants feral. you feel them reach up to your heart to work their magic on that too. it probably isn’t healthy for it to beat at the speed that it is, but you really can’t help it. the elephants seem to respond to mingi and mingi alone. you don’t mind that either.

not at all.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Clingy Girl

Hi guys ♥

This is a request from here! I love writing for Ona and I missed it so here you are :)

Next one will be the end of Collide, with Leah Williamson.

Enjoy ♥

TW : None :)

______________________________________________________________

The first time you were introduced to Ona, officially, was when she arrived in Barcelona. You’ve been there for two seasons when the Catalan made her appearance in Barcelona. And the least we can say is that you were the victim of what is called a real love at first sight. At the same time, how could it be otherwise?

Ona is a real ray of sunshine in your life since her arrival, completely changing your established routine until now. And more, she even flipped your life and your world upside down. You still don’t understand how and why, but Ona quickly made you understand that your feelings were reciprocal and just two weeks after her return to Barcelona, she asked you for a date.

A second followed quickly, initiated by you this time, then a third. And your first kiss, your first moments, your first sleepless nights talking about everything and other occupations that are only yours. You quickly found yourself addicted to her, you just can’t spend a day away from her without it being torture.

You have decided to keep your relationship secret, however, including for your teammates, wishing to distinguish between your private and professional life. This doesn't prevent you from sitting next to her when traveling or sometimes being partners during workouts.

The most complicated thing though is the fact that Ona is terribly tactile. It's with everyone really and therefore with you too. She never has any gestures with you that would make think of anything other than friendship. The problem is the sensations it gives you and the constant work you have to do on yourself to not forget that you are in public.

Today, it’s a little more difficult than usual, for both of you. Ona flew a few days to Manchester to meet Leila Ouahabi and her girlfriend, one of her closest friends.

You couldn’t go with her because you had things to do for your sponsors, and needless to say, you missed her terribly. You had trouble sleeping alone and ended up miserably falling asleep in front of the television the two nights of her absence. You saw that some people imagined romance scenarios between the two Spaniards, which made you roll your eyes. The girl who posted the photos of Ona and Leila being her girlfriend, it would be more very strange if something happened between them. But it’s probably the downside of not talking about your relationship officially.

The day of her return, Ona arrives around 10:30 in Barcelona while the training starts at 12:00. Needless to say, she doesn’t have time to go home to change. But you offered to take her at the airport that’s why you find yourself in the arrivals hall of Barcelona, making the hundred steps while waiting for your girlfriend.

When she finally appears, you must refrain from jumping on her and settle for a simple hug. You briefly close your eyes and slide your face into her hair in a way that may differ from a hug between two friends, but you can’t help it. Ona's arms who tightens you against her however make you understand that it doesn't bother the young woman.

You end up releasing her reluctantly, looking greedily at her face. In your opinion, Ona has the most perfect face of creation, drawn by the gods. You still remember Ona’s amused laughter and rolling eyes when you told her, but also her cheeks that were tinged with pink. Ona seems to understand what is going on in your head, since she smiles softly and shakes her head.

"Stop" laughed the Catalan by pushing your shoulder.

"I didn’t do anything" you answer maliciously before taking her bag from her hands.

Ona always smiles when she follows you to your car and again when she sits in the passenger seat. You join her after closing your trunk and dropping her travel bag next to your stuff for training. When you find your place behind the wheel, you feel two hands grabbing by the collar of your jacket and Ona draws you against her to put a kiss on your lips.

You can only smile at her lips, putting a hand on her arm.

"I missed you" whispers Ona against your lips.

You hums for any answer at first, dropping several kisses on her lips before backing away slightly.

"I missed you too. Barcelona sucks when you’re not there"

Ona smiles at you tenderly and releases your jacket only to grab one of your hands that she imprisons between her two to put on her lap. She will not release her until the stadium, despite the different conversations you have during the journey.

Arriving at the stadium, you still exchange several kisses after checking that no one could see you before going to training. You are surprised when you feel Ona clinging to your arm and the look you cast at her must speak for you.

"What? I often do it with Aita" Ona said, shrugging her shoulders.

"If you say so" you laugh softly, laying a kiss on her head.

The smell of her shampoo tickles your nose and you must refrain from looking for her lips again. You can’t wait to go home so you can have her only for you. When Ona presented you her flight plan, you must admit that you didn't imagine that it would be necessary to give you a few hours to meet before going to training.

Ona is practically glued to you on the benches listening to Jona’s tactics for the next game. She grabs your hand again to play with your fingers under the table during the meal and you often have to remember yourself that a simple friend doesn't look at the lips of her friend with envy. When you join the changing rooms to put on your training outfits, you take advantage of Ona’s pretext that shows you something on your phone to stick to her, your hand in the hollow of her back.

"Maybe we should tell them we know and they’re anything but subtle?" whispers Claudia to the attention of Patri who walks behind you, in the company of Salma.

"No way" answers Patri "They are already like that without us knowing, imagine how they can be when they have told us about it"

The answer, said on the tone of humor, makes the other two laugh and attracts your and Ona's attention. But they quickly divert the conversation to something else and you reluctantly remove your hand from Ona’s body, letting your fingers brush against her butt in the process. The look the brunette gives you only lasts a split second, but you can’t hold back your guilty smile.

This gesture is also noticed by Patri who share a glance with Pina.

"I changed my mind" Patri whispers to Claudia, watching you laugh and tease while you change. "But we’ll have some fun before"

Patri is quick to implement her plan and quickly catches up with you both before entering the field.

"Ona, can I talk to you?" asks the Majorcan before taking a look at you and a smile. "Alone?"

"Of course" the Catalan replies curiously, briefly squeezing your hand she was holding before letting go.

You give them a smile in return and join the small group already formed by your teammates in the center of the field. You exchange a few words with Aitana and Jana, waiting your girlfriend’s return. And, when she finally appears with Patri, you can only notice her upset look and frown. It’s subtle and discreet, so others don’t notice. But you do.

Unfortunately, the coaches arrive shortly after. This doesn't allow you to try to question her to know what is going on and when your eyes cross, she simply shakes her head negatively, her eyebrows still frowned. You’re a little worried, to be honest. If you weren’t totally focused on Ona, you would have noticed the amused looks that Patri and Claudia exchange.

You cannot question Ona during the first part of the training and it's only when you have your break to drink that you can finally approach her.

"Are you all right?" you ask softly as you look at her

"Yes" simply answers Ona before putting her bottle back in the fridge.

"Ona" you call softly when you see her ready to leave

Her eyes soften a little when they crosses yours. Her silence worries you as much as her behavior and frustration that seems to increase over time.

"Later, all right?"

You nod and put the gourd in the fridge while biting your lip gently. You feel your stomach writhing under anxiety, you don’t know what it is, but it impacts Ona enough not to tell you directly. And this is probably the first time, you’re not used to your girlfriend keeping things secret between you. The worry must be visible on your face, since Ona grabs your hand, making you slightly startled. You didn’t expect her to be here, but left to train further.

"Don’t make that face" whispers Ona, completely ignorant of Patri and Claudia who are watching you with an amused smile. "Patri asked me if I thought you’d say yes if she asks you to go on a date with her, considering you’re single"

"Patri?!" you whispers too, mechanically looking for the other woman on the field.

In the meantime, she has carefully focused her attention on the stretches she has to do. Frowned, you look thoughtfully for a few seconds, trying to make sense of this information. You get along well with her obviously, but like others on the team. You never imagined a relationship other than friendly with her.

"It doesn’t make any sense" you always whisper by shifting your attention to Ona. "We were never close in that way, even before you came here and she never said or showed anything"

"Really?"

Ona's detached air doesn't deceive you and you sigh softly while rolling with your eyes.

"Of course, I would have told you otherwise"

Ona is content to respond with a vague grunt and thoughtfully bites her lip. Not being able to speak freely is frustrating, but it's obviously out of the question to go hide somewhere to talk. You stroke herhand with your thumb to draw herattention to you before speaking again.

"Don’t worry like that. I will refuse, isn't it obvious?"

"Yes" sighs softly Ona relaxing a little despite everything "It’s just that… I don’t know, I don’t like the idea"

"I understand" you assure her with a slight smile.

If you had been alone you would have taken her to you to hug her, but the whole of your team surrounds you and the fact that you held your hand like this for so long is surely strange enough. Ona gives you a light smile before releasing your hand to return to follow her exercises. Again, your exchange wasn't missed by the duo decided to test you.

Contrary to what you had imagined, Ona didn't go back to the other side of the field to resume training but stayed with you all along. You surprise her several times glaring towards Patri, and you discreetly reminded her that she isn't supposed to blame the Majorcan. It only attracted you grunts for a simple answer, but it didn't take Ona away from you. It gives you the impression of having a bodyguard, provided that a bodyguard literally sticks to you all the way.

At the end of the training, Ona is on edge and doesn't hesitate to grab you by the arm to drag you quickly to the changing rooms. You decide to shower at Ona’s, the brunette hoping to escape Patri, but the latter magically appears outside the door of the locker room when you leave.

"Hey Y/N, I have a question for you"

Patri’s tone is joyful and you see from the corner of the eye Ona darkening next to you. Her arm is literally wrapped around yours in a way that is both possessive and protective and her eyebrows are more gathered than ever.

"What’s going on?" You ask nevertheless trying to keep a neutral face.

"Are you doing something tonight? I thought we could go for a drink or something…"

"Yes she’s doing something" Ona answers in your place, pulling on your arm so that you follow her to the exit.

"Tomorrow then?"

You’ve never seen Ona so nervous before. You’re surprised not to see smoke coming out of her ears.

"Tomorrow too" Ona continues to pull at your arm. "And every other day. Come on, let’s go"

You take a few steps back under Ona's insistence while continuing to observe your interlocutor. It's at this moment that your eyes cross Patri's and you detect something other than the hope of someone who asks someone else on a date. Fun? Mischief? It flips in your head and you suddenly stop walking.

"You know" you accuse her, pointing at her.

"Know what?" Ona grumbles, not enjoying you stopping.

"Yes, I know what?" repeats Patri with a big innocent smile.

Ona ends up also understanding and also turns to face Patri. Her eyebrows are ruffled, but it seems that her annoyance is this time related to the little trick played by Patri. And Claudia, but you don’t know her betrayal yet.

"For Ona and me. That’s why you set up this ridiculous plan to ask me out" you roll your eyes shaking your head.

This makes Patri laugh, who shrugs her shoulders before teasingly putting a hand on your arm.

"Don’t denigrate yourself like that, I could very well have done it" said Patri maliciously.

"Stop" moaned Ona, putting both arms around your waist to take you away from Patri. "How did you know?"

"Everyone knows it or suspects it" laughs the Majorcan again. "We thought it would be fun to tease you before telling you."

"We?" repeats Ona with an arched eyebrow.

"Well, maybe Pina helped me to plan this"

"I hate you, both of you."

"I’ll tell Alexia" you sulk

********

"Ona" you laughs when your girlfriend take you back in the bed with her, grabbing you by a piece of your (her) t-shirt. "I’m thirsty"

It’s been a few hours since you came back from training now, you had plenty of time to shower, have dinner and… well, celebrate Ona's come back in her bedroom.

"Well, you are forbidden to leave me now"

"I never dreamed of it" you assure her while returning in bed to face her, your hand slipping delicately in her hair.

Ona doesn't wait a second to stick against you again, so close that it becomes difficult to say which part of the body belongs to whom. It's however far from disturbing you, the arms of Ona in your back caress you tenderly and her face in the hollow of your neck tickles you delicately.

"I hated this day" mumbles Ona, her lips tickling your skin making you shiver.

"Why? You came home and we’re not so bad here, are we?"

"No" agrees Ona smiling, dropping a new kiss before backing away. "But the part where I thought Patri was genuinely attracted to you, not so much"

"You know very well that I would have said no" you answer by depositing a kiss on the corner of her jaw.

There’s nothing you don’t like about her, but the definition of her jaw, you love it. Like her eyes, her smile, her abs and do not start talking about her hands and arms.

"I know" Ona replies, taking you away from the fantasies of your own girlfriend. "But still. At least now everyone seems to know you’re mine"

"It bothers me less than I could have imagined"

You know you both chose to remain secret, but now that you know the rest of the team knows, you can’t help but say it’s better that way. Ona seems to approve, even if she hums for simple answer, her lips starting to ghost the hollow of your neck.

Despite the teasing of your teammates, nothing will really change in your respective behaviors. Ona and you will continue to exchange complicit and amused looks and smiles regularly, your daily proximity will not change either. The only difference is that now, when you travel for a game, Ona doesn't hesitate to take her naps completely lying on you. And you won’t complain about that either.

[sineaden]

One of my favorite moments in “Forces of Nature” (S3, Ep3) is when Violet finally realizes Colin’s feelings for Penelope.

Up until now, Colin really hasn’t been on Violet’s radar, her focus being on Francesca, so I love that it only takes this one conversation for Violet to piece it all together.

Her reaction is brilliantly understated whilst still carrying so much weight. You can see the initial surprise in Violet’s eyes before the realization quickly sets in. Then, there is the slight upturn in her lips, pleased by her discovery, though tinged with a bit of apprehension.

There is a beautiful contrast in how she interacts with Colin this season vs how involved she is and has been with her other children’s matches. She is clearly supportive of Colin and Penelope but understands the gravity of Colin's decision and gives him the space to make it himself. This ties into their conversation in the next episode, where she encourages him to put himself first.

I also love that Violet can be seen subtly in the background, watching the exchange between Colin and Penelope before we see her more obvious concern when Penelope is dancing with Debling.

Chef’s kiss!

[genderlessdude92]

I’M ALL YOURS

PAIRING: ALASTOR X F!READER

SUMMARY: Alastor and his S/O face the intensity of rut season together, with y/n offering her support and revealing her innocence. (Yup, you’re a virgin in this). Despite initial apprehensions, their passion culminates in a deeply intimate experiemce, as well as a night to remember.

WARNINGS: Usage of y/n, Alastor has a rut, established relationship, reader is female, reader is also a virgin (but of an appropriate age 🙌👏), Mature themes, Character canon divergence, Power dynamics, Graphic description, a bludgeon in reader’s lower stomach, Graphic language (just cussing tho), Animalistic behavior, ermmm minors you really shouldn’t read this ermmmm.

NOTICE: please don’t copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But…thanks for liking my work !! >.<

Requests are open, Support is highly appreciated!

〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~

The room was quiet, save for the distant echoes of laughter from the Hotel's bar. Alastor sat in his chair, sipping a whiskey, his eyes locked onto the flickering flames of the fireplace. The air had anticipation, a tension that even the inferno couldn't burn away. It was a peculiar evening in the Hazbin Hotel, one that seemed to whisper secrets of change in the air.

Suddenly, the door to his suite clicked open. In walked y/n, her eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and apprehension. She had heard the whispers of the upcoming rut season, and the desperate need that came with it. The Hotel was a place of debauchery and sin, but tonight, it felt as if the very walls were holding their breath.

"Alastor," she began, her voice a soft caress in the velvet silence. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers, a question in his gaze. She took a deep breath, her heart racing like a wildfire in her chest. This was it. The moment she had been both dreading and craving for what felt like an eternity.

“…I want to help you…through this rut season.” She smiled softly. Before scanning his features for any discomfort, only seeing surprise, she continued, “I know that you usually do it alone…but it’s not what rut season is for.”

Alastor placed his glass aside, standing up with a predatory grace that never failed to make her pulse quicken. He approached her, his eyes traveling up and down her body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “And why, pray tell, do you want to help me, my dear?” His voice was a smooth purr, hinting at the power held in check beneath the surface.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she held his gaze firmly. “Because I care about you, and I want to be there for you in every way possible.”

He stopped before her, his hands coming up to cradle her face. “That’s incredibly sweet, but are you sure you know what you’re getting into?” The question hung in the air, a silent challenge that she met with a nod.

“…And i want you to be…” She paused. She knew she was a virgin, on earth and hell…but when would she tell him?…

“…I want you to be… as rough as you need to be…” Her hands dragged upwards on his chest, unbuttoning his suit jacket and tossing it aside. “As touchy…audible…anything…as you need to be for me dear…and i will do the same…”

Alastor’s eyes widened, the revelation of her innocence crashing over him like a tidal wave. He swallowed hard, his mind racing with the gravity of her words. He hadn’t anticipated this, but his body responded with a feral growl, his eyes flashing a fiery red. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was both tender and demanding, his hands sliding down to the hem of her dress.

He paused, his claws just grazing the fabric. “Are you absolutely certain?” His voice was a mix of concern and desire, his thumbs stroking the soft skin of her hips.

Y/n nodded, her eyes shining with determination. “I trust you, Alastor. I know you’ll take care of me.”

Her words were like a dam breaking, and all of Alastor’s pent-up need and passion flooded forth. He kissed her again, more fiercely this time, his hands hooking under her thighs as he brang them over to the velvety sheets of their shared bed. falling down onto them with her following.

As they kissed, their hands danced over each other’s bodies, peeling away layers of clothing with urgent precision. Buttons popped as y/n’s dress was tossed to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her panties and no bra. His own clothes weren’t spared, as well. His shirt joining the growing pile of discarded fabric.

Finally, she lay before him, her chest rising and falling with every breath she took, her eyes shining with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. He took in the sight of her, committing every inch of her bare skin to memory. He knew he had to be gentle, to treasure her offering, but the beast inside him roared with the need to claim her.

Alastor's hands slid down her torso, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin of her waist before they reached the band of her panties. He hooked his fingers under the fabric and began to pull them down.

But just not even halfway down, y/n’s hand halted his.

“Alastor…sweetie.” Y/n began, trying to stay serious in the heat of the moment, “I just…want you to know that…I’m a virgin.” She whispered the words into his ear, her voice trembling slightly.

Alastor froze, his eyes going wide with shock. He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching hers for any sign of uncertainty. But what he saw was resolve, a spark that lit the kindling of his own restraint. He took a deep breath, the gravity of her words sinking in. He hadn’t expected this, but he felt a primal instinct to protect and claim her all at once.

With a gentle nod, he leaned back in, kissing her again, more tenderly this time. His hands slid up her sides, caressing her ribs before finally coming to rest on the fullness of her breasts. He cupped them gently, his thumbs stroking the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of her panties. She gasped into his mouth, arching her back to press herself closer to him.

“That just means i can claim you even more this season.” He growled.

Their kiss grew more heated, tongues dancing and exploring as their hands continued to wander. He gently pinched her nipples, releasing a yelp from her plush lips. Her hands dug into his hair, holding him close as their kisses grew more frantic. He could feel her pulse racing under his fingertips, a silent plea for more. Alastor’s boxers grew tight as his arousal grew, straining against the fabric, demanding release.

Her panties grew damp with desire, the scent of her arousal mingling with the faint scent of brimstone. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties, pausing to gaze into her eyes once more. She nodded, her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink, giving him the green light. With one swift movement, he pulled them down, revealing her bare, untouched mound.

Alastor’s eyes feasted on the sight, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He stepped back for a moment, taking in the full picture of her beauty laid bare before him. Her legs were slightly apart, and he could see the glistening of her wetness, an invitation to claim her fully.

He climbed fully onto the bed, his powerful body hovering over hers. Y/n moan at the sight, traveling her fingers down to her clit where she spread her folds for him to see, the wet sound of them separating making Alastor’s ears twitch a bit.

“Fuck—oh, dear…” he began to pump his cock slowly at the sight, his claws digging into the bed sheets as his eyes took in the view of her. She was a vision, a delicate blend of innocence and desire that called to the deepest, most primal parts of him. He leaned in, his nose trailing along her neck as he inhaled her scent, his fangs elongating slightly.

Their kisses grew more frantic, their bodies moving in a silent dance of need. His hands found their way to her hips, and just as she thought he would thrust into her, he instead began to grind his cock onto her clit, collecting her slick onto his swollen, large member.

"Alastor," she gasped out, reaching down to touch him. He growled lowly, but didn't stop her. Her hand wrapped around his shaft, the heat of his arousal surprisingly welcome in her palm. She squeezed gently, unsure of her strength.

He groaned into her mouth, his hips bucking upward, encouraging her to move her hand. She took the hint and began to rub him, her strokes tentative but earnest. He was so much larger than she had ever imagined, hot and heavy with need. Her touch seemed to drive him wild, his hips moving in sync with her hand.

He broke the kiss, his eyes half-lidded and filled with a mix of passion and amazement. "You're so brave," he murmured, his voice a low growl. His hands found hers, guiding her movements. He showed her how to squeeze, how to rub the sensitive head of his cock, and how to glide her hand along the length of his shaft. She watched his face, learning his reactions, memorizing every twitch and gasp.

With every stroke, Alastor felt his control slipping. The thought of being her first, of teaching her the pleasures of the flesh, was more intoxicating than any whiskey could ever be. He leaned back, letting her take the lead, watching as she grew more confident in her touch. His hips rocked slightly, pushing into her hand, seeking more.

Her touch grew bolder, more sure, and with a growl of pleasure, Alastor could hold back no longer. He reached down, taking over, stroking himself faster as he leaned in to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing the tender skin. He knew he had to be careful, had to make this first time perfect for her.

He soon then pulled his cock away from her hand, rubbing her fluids all around it, acting as a lubricant.

“Are you ready, sweetheart? We can stop if you want to.” Alastor’s voice was a gentle rumble, his eyes searching hers for any sign of fear or hesitation.

Y/n nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. “Yes. I’m ready. I trust you.”

He took a moment to appreciate her bravery, his heart swelling with affection. With a nod, he positioned himself between her legs, his cock poised at her entrance. He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers, and then, with a gentle push, he began to enter her.

Her eyes widened at the feeling of him stretching her, her body tightening around him as she took in every inch of his thickness. He was so much larger than she had ever anticipated, filling her in a way that was both uncomfortable and exhilarating. A whimper escaped her lips as he pushed deeper, the pressure building within her.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Alastor murmured, his voice soothing despite the animalistic hunger in his eyes. He pushed loose strands away from her face, “Let me in. Let me make it good for you.”

With a nod, she took a deep breath, willing herself to relax. Slowly, his cock pushed past the barrier of her virginity, the pain a brief shock before it morphed into a deep, intense pressure. She gripped the sheets tightly, her eyes squeezed shut.

“Look at me,” he ordered gently, and she did, her gaze locking onto his fiery orbs. “You’re mine now, understand?”

Y/n nodded, her eyes glassy with a mix of pain and pleasure. He began to move, his strokes slow and deliberate, allowing her to adjust to the new sensation. She bit her bottom lip, her nails digging into the bed as he filled her completely, her walls stretching around him like a glove.

The pain slowly ebbed away, replaced by a growing warmth that spread through her body. Alastor watched her closely, reading every twitch and gasp, adjusting his pace to match her needs. His movements grew more confident, his cock sliding in and out of her with ease.

Her hips began to move in time with his, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. He groaned, his fangs grazing her neck as he fought the urge to mark her. Her walls tightened around him, her moans growing louder with every thrust.

Alastor focused on her lustful facial expressions and the way her breasts bounced up and down from each thrust. Because of this, Alastor grabbed the fat of her hips, and quickened the pace.

The bed creaked under their combined weight, the rhythmic sound of their lovemaking echoing through the room. Y/n’s moans grew louder, her body arching off the bed with every deep thrust. He could feel her tightening around him, her muscles contracting as she approached climax.

“Alastor, I’m—I’m going to—” she gasped out, her eyes wide with surprise and pleasure.

“Not yet, dear, not until i say so.” He panted, “Save that knot for when you need to milk me, understood?”

Her eyes widened with excitement at his words, nodding eagerly. Alastor leaned in, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss as he pushed deeper, hitting a spot inside her that made her entire body convulse. She moaned into his mouth, her legs tightening around him.

As they reached the peak of their passion, Alastor could feel his cock begin to knot, the base swelling until it was lodged firmly inside her. He groaned against her neck, his claws digging into the bed as the pressure grew. Y/n gasped, feeling the sudden change. She looked down, her eyes going wide at the sight of his cock, now bulging beneath her skin, the tip just visible through the soft flesh of her lower belly.

“Alastor, what’s happening?” she panted, a mix of confusion and arousal in her voice.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes blazing with passion. “It’s natural, darling. My c-cock is knotting, making sure you carry my s-seed. Just relax, let it happen,” he groaned.

Her eyes went wide as she felt the pressure build, her body adapting to the new sensation. He began to thrust and rut more powerfully, the knot inside her making every movement more intense. She could feel him swelling, filling her completely, the head of his cock pressing against the entrance to her womb.

Y/n's breath hitched as she watched in a mix of awe and arousal. "Oh, Alastor, baby..." she whispered, her eyes glued to the sight before her. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, a part of him becoming a part of her in the most primal way possible.

Alastor's movements grew more erratic, his need to release overwhelming him. He could feel his orgasm approaching, his balls tightening. "Fuck, oh, y/n, you feel so good," he groaned, his teeth clenched as he fought to hold back. “Cum for my, dear, milk my cock’s seed out, you’re doing so g-good…!”

Her eyes went wide as she felt the pressure build again, her body responding to his words. She had never felt so filled, so owned. And as she watched the base of his cock bulge beneath her skin, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. She tightened her grip on his hips, urging him deeper, whimpering and moaning and babbling nonsense from how cock drink she was, her walls clenching around the thick knot.

With a final, powerful thrust, Alastor reached his peak. He growled, his body shuddering as he released deep inside her. The knot grew even larger, locking them together as his seed filled her womb. She screamed his name, her body shaking with the force of her own orgasm.

The room was filled with the scent of their passion, the air thick with the sound of their panting. Alastor leaned down, his forehead pressing against hers, panting like animals after a hunt. Y/n’s eyes searched his, a silent question in them.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, his voice rough with concern.

Her smile was all the answer he needed. “No, it was perfect.” She said between breaths.

They remained like that for a moment, bodies entwined, hearts racing as one. The knot in Alastor's cock pulsed in time with his heartbeat, a constant reminder of their union.

After a moment of waiting, Alastor pulled out his now calmed member out of her cunt, but slowly, his ears twitching at the different wet noises coming from the action.

The two of them lay there for a moment, chests heaving and skin slick with sweat. Alastor couldn’t believe what had just happened. He had never felt this kind of connection with anyone before. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, his hands stroking her hair gently. “Thank you, y/n. That was...incredible.”

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes hazy with pleasure. “Oh, well…Thank you, Alastor,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the intensity of their mating. She felt a sense of belonging, of rightness that she had never experienced before. She knew that this was just the beginning of what was to come during the rut season, but she was ready, eager even, to face it all with him by her side.

Alastor’s eyes softened as he took in her beauty, the innocence of her expression, and the passion that had just been shared between them. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness and possessiveness that was new to him. He leaned down to kiss her gently, his lips lingering against hers as he tasted the sweetness of their combined release.

As the aftershocks of their climax subsided, they both became aware of the sticky mess between her thighs. Alastor looked down at her with a mix of concern and pride. He had been rougher than he had intended, but she had taken it all with a grace that surprised and thrilled him. He leaned in to kiss her gently, moaning softly as a sign of relief.

His thick seed, although, was just about to leak out. Noticing this, he gave his dear y/n a quick peck of her temples before walking over the the bathroom to go grab a towel.

Walking back with a wet towel and some water, Y/n was just about dozing off at this point, which made him smile softly. Spreading her legs, he gently wiped the fluids around her pussy off with a washcloth, pushing some of his cum back inside of her, before throwing it into his laundry basket and laying down beside her. She giggled a bit, her cheeks still flushed from their love making.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. He felt the knot in his cock shrink, but it was still lodged inside her, the bond not yet broken. “Are you okay, love?” He whispered, his thumb brushing against her cheek.

Y/n nodded sleepily, her eyes drifting shut. “Mmhmm, I’m perfect.” She mumbled, snuggling into his embrace

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END NOTES: Guys i might just starve you by posting fics once or twice a month cause atp that’s what i’m doing LOLLL☆ (likes, reblogs, etc is always appreciated!) btw erm my req’s actually have not been like loading for me and i have like 20+ soooo :3 I LOVE YOU GUYS!!! STAY SAFE!!! BAIII >_<!!!

-Genderlessdude92

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MASTERLIST

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 2

Episode 2 starts days or maybe a week after episode 1. The curfews and phone ban is in place, so Wilhelm and Simon make the most of their one hour of phone sex talking.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm snapped a quick instant picture of himself and Simon at the palace in the last episode, using the camera we saw on his desk. The heart is still on his hand, so maybe it's the next day, or maybe he's been filling it in every day.

Cinematography: Intense red light typically symbolizes their mutual love, and this scene is overflowing with it.

Lost in translation: They both finish the phone call with "puss", which means kiss, but not exactly. It's more platonic, something you can say and do with your parents, or your kids, or end phone calls with. The other word for kiss, "kyss", is more romantic/sexual, and would be super weird to end a phone call with. Simon is using that word when he says he would kiss Wilhelm's collar bone birth mark.

Subtext: Of course Vincent doesn't believe anyone was bullied. He's the biggest bully, but what he does is just a joke, or the other guy deserved it. This is gonna be a recurring theme™ in this episode, how various characters look back on and remember, or choose not to remember, what happened to them.

Subtext: If you didn't pick up this meaningful glance, you're blind. The initiation porno was totally real, and Nils and August clearly remember it, and weren't as flippant about it as Vincent.

Culture: In Sweden, inner city schools are typically better and have richer students than the poorer schools out in the suburbs. This is the exact opposite of the typical US school demographical pattern.

Subtext: Wilhelm avoids Farima's question by evading it. Note that it does make sense that she doesn't know what's going on at these schools since she's an employee, she's not upper-class herself. Wilhelm's parents know though since they attended Hillerska, but they would of course never admit it either.

Culture: Ironically, this is exactly how the real-world Danish royal family handled the Herlufsholm scandal in 2022 involving prince Christian. Only when the media storm in Denmark got too intense did they pull him out of the school, while furiously denying knowledge of the abuse or that he was involved in any way.

Cinematography: We're in the cursed music room, but the light is soft and golden, and the scene is just cute. No fight this time.

Subtext: We're touching the theme™ again, but from Simon's perspective. He has the same outsider perspective we have; speaking up about abuse is always good, and if the school's closing because of it, that's an obviously good thing. There's plenty of scenes in this episode showing that most Hillerska students don't share this perspective, they really love their school, as fucked up as it is.

Subtext: Although it sounds like a rehearsed PR line and Felice is thinking about her girl group here, it's gonna come true for her and Sara.

Subtext: Yuck. No further comment.

Cinematography: The immediate cut to Felice getting her aggressions out in gym class shows us exactly what she thought of what the principal said and how much it pissed her off.

Blink and you miss it: Simon audibly sniffs Wilhelm's hair.

Blink and you miss it: Micke made dinner for both of them, but in her depression, Sara ignores the cooked food (Pyttipanna, btw), and makes herself a cucumber sandwich instead.

Subtext: Micke is a man on a mission, and he is constantly steering the conversation towards helping Sara get her driver's license. For him, it's a way to make up for having been a shitty parent.

Culture: Sweden has long been a holdout of stick-shift cars, and if you don't do your practical test in a stick-shift, you'll get a restricted license, so it's not out of the ordinary for Micke to be teaching Sara how to drive one. However, automatics have seen a sharp rise in the last decade, and in 2024 automatics will finally overtake them.

Culture: The green ÖVNINGSKÖRNING sign is compulsory in Sweden if a car is being driven by someone on a learner's permit, with a parent or friend as the instructor. There's also a red version of the sign, which indicates it's a student driver with a professional instructor in a dual control car.

Cinematography: The room is filled to the brim with things to do, there's a bazillion board games, they have books, magazines, fidget thingies, they're drowning in stuff, and yet the girls are still soooooo boooored just because they don't have their phones. Except Madison, who is knitting.

Subtext: Here comes the theme™ again, and Fredrika is firmly in camp denial. Everyone else is just lying and exaggerating! The wheels are starting to turn in Felice's head though.

Subtext: Nils and August are finally talking about the initiation without Vincent being present, and they can finally be honest about what they actually thought about it. It happened, they didn't like.

Subtext: Their idea of fixing it however is not to go out publicly and talk about it, but to just quietly stop the tradition, hoping they'll be the last ones. (Since there are no second-year students in the show, we have no idea what happened to them, so we're just gonna ignore that.)

Subtext: And here comes the reason that August wanted to put a stop to it. He was completely humiliated by it, and he doesn't want anyone else to know that he was humiliated, because that just makes it worse. This is also the reason that traditions like this keep on going, no-one wants to blow the whistle on it, because everyone was abused, everyone was a victim, it's hard for abuse victims to speak up.

Cinematography: The talk with Nils triggered an anxiety attack for August, and being inside his small room doesn't exactly help. Him going so close to the camera that he almost bumps into it really shows how he feels like the walls are closing in on him.

Culture: This, kids, is a standard Swedish landline telephone jack. For the longest time I thought phone jacks looked like this everywhere, but it turns out that this particular design was only used in Sweden and Iceland(!?!). You won't find these in newer buildings because landlines are pretty much dying out, and if there are phone jacks they'll probably be using the much more common RJ-11 standard.

Culture: This, kids, is an Ericsson Diavox phone. The former government phone monopoly in Sweden, Televerket, only allowed certified and approved phones to be used on the network, and they only approved a very small set of phones, so everyone had pretty much the same phones in their homes. However, in the 1980's the market started getting flooded with "illegal" phones from other countries, so the monopoly simply stopped enforcing the rule, and you could finally, finally, plug in that novelty Garfield phone that you always wanted.

Blink and you miss it: Sara is studying for her driving test, and she's reading about driving in the dark.

Subtext: We're gearing up for the main plotline of the season, dropping more hints that maybe Wilhelm's image of Erik wasn't complete, and what August says sows some seeds of doubt in him.

Subtext: This song is objectively not very good, please don't kill me, but it is very sixteen-year-old-boy-just-singing-from-his-heart, not thinking about the text.

Subtext: Simon isn't wearing anything purple, but just after he posts his song video, he picks up a purple shirt, drops it immediately, and then the camera lingers on it. Colour theory goes brrrrrrrr. He thought about Wilhelm, and then stopped because his music is more important to him or something?

Subtext: Unlike Simon, Wilhelm immediately understands how problematic the text is for him, and how people will interpret it...

Subtext: ...but since he doesn't want to hurt Simon's feelings, he lies about why he thinks the song was a very, very bad idea. And he cushions it by telling Simon that he thinks the song is jätte-jätte-bra. Giant-giant-good.

Subtext: Yes, but also no, and someone from the court really should have given Simon some media training and explained to him why he has to be very careful about what he posts. But it's drama fuel, which is why this disaster is allowed to happen.

Subtext: A nice little throwback to season 1, this is exactly what Erik told Wilhelm in the first episode, about making sure that their public image is carefully curated.

Subtext: That's some on-the-nose foreshadowing there, since Felice is one of the main causes for the school ultimately closing.

Subtext: We're back to the theme™, Fredrika is saying pretty much the same thing as Vincent. It didn't happen, and if it did, it wasn't that bad.

Subtext: However, Felice isn't playing along this time, she's starting to speak up about the issues, and the result is a long, awkward silence, because her friends are not willing to do the same.

Subtext: Wilhelm and the rest of the rich kids are of course all wearing pretty expensive high-end hiking gear, in contrast with Simon who is simply wearing one of his usual hoodies and his usual winter jacket that we've seen before. That's a damn fine jacket from Fjällräven, btw, the same company that makes the weirdly globally popular Kånken backpacks.

Blink and you miss it: Henry is getting dragged for his actually quite reasonable objection to the tent groupings.

Subtext: Felice physically distances herself from her friends, and joins Simon and Wilhelm, in a nice little foreshadowing of the show's ending.

Blink and you miss it: Did you miss the line in last episode where Ayub said they were also gonna go camping at Talludden with their classmates from Marieberg? Well, here they are, because they pitched their tents nearby, and decided to go check out the Hillerska camp. It's not just Rosh and Ayub randomly walking through the woods.

Subtext: In season 2, we learned that Stella has a crush on Fredrika that she thinks is one-sided, but Fredrika sure has some kind of reaction to seeing Stella being close with Rosh. Jealousy, perhaps? Not clear at this point in time.

Subtext: Read the room Fredrika, for fuck's sake. At least Wilhelm has started learning to recognize privilege. The other rich kids probably recognize their privilege, but they're mostly just enjoying how much better they are than the poor regular kids.

Subtext: But Wilhelm's still got a lot more to learn. Yes, technically he is forced to spend his summer studying, and technically it is a kind of work, but the underlying reasons are completely different. If he skips it or fails, nothing bad will happen to him, unlike the Marieberg kids who rely on their summer jobs to have any sort of spending money.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm's dad says that the queen is going to be "sjukskriven", which is more serious than someone deciding on their own to take some time off or to use some sick days. It means that a doctor has evaluated you and decided that you are not fit to work, and that if you're a regular person, you are eligible for sick pay for the foreseeable future.

Cinematography: Yeah, mommy is really sick and Wilhelm is feeling the weight of responsibility, but take a look at that sunrise! It's so pretty! Wilhelm is completely in shadow because trouble whatever, but look at how that light just pops, with the sky and the water and the sun on the trees! Beautiful!

[formulawolff]

xvii. facing reality - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 2.9k

warnings: cursing, age gap relationships, (slight) sexism, unfair treatment of drivers, toto being down bad per usual, mentions of divorce, allegations of infidelity, james being a dick, yadayadayada

a/n: i am aware that it is solely up to the drivers in terms of contract talks, negotiations, etc. however, let's just pretend that we do not see it and that there are some restrictions when it comes to our golden girl. okay? okay cool :p

prev. | next.

the only noise was the dull roar of the engine, and well, the occasional shuffle of papers as he flips through his notebook, careful not to produce much movement in his shoulder.

nestled on his right shoulder was your head, your breathing rhythmic, both arms cuddling his bicep. 

turning his head, his mouth places a kiss on your temple, “i love you, sweet girl.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.��☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

the ease in which the words flowed from his lips sent a ripple of bliss throughout his chest. the warm, cozy feeling only intensifies tenfold as you wrinkle your nose, nuzzling into the fabric of his button-up. although you’re deep in slumber, you respond, voice thickened with exhaustion.

“i love you, toto.”

“get some rest,” he murmurs, “i’ll wake you when we make it to montreal.”

sometimes the bustling season schedule had its perks. since drivers were not required to fly in with their teams to races, typically everyone flew separately from their respective locations. so, toto had you accompany him on his jet to canada, where the two of you could be alone for just a little while longer.

approximately twelve hours longer, where you would have to go your separate ways once landing. it was arranged that theodore would be driving you to the track, where you would be able to reunite with alex and the rest of the williams crew.

meanwhile, mr. wolff had a few business obligations to attend. one was a meeting with a few potential investors for the 2025 season, while the other obligation was a little more personal.

someone had to recognize your accomplishments over the last few weeks. 

and he was going to be that person.

to add to your bracelet, toto arranged a meeting with a private jeweler where he would pick out four more charms to add to your bracelet. 

one for sazuka. one for miami. one for emilia romagna. and finally, one for monaco. 

the initial plan was to gift you the new charms before qualifying, so that you could have a few more additions to your bracelet. in toto’s mind, he liked to imagine that the bracelet was your good luck charm. 

after all, it seemed to be working. 

with the current driver standings, you were at the top of the board. max was behind you, trailing by a decent amount of points. at his tail was charles leclerc, lando norris in fourth. although your name was a hot topic in the world of formula one, rumors flying that you were the main contender for the title, it was still too early to make any definitive judgments. 

formula one was ever-changing. a single race could shift the leaderboard, as many drivers were close in points. a single weekend could also shift the team standings, as williams was now thrust in the mix for the second or third spot, fighting tooth and nail with red bull, ferrari and mclaren. 

it was all thanks to you. your reflexes, your critical thinking, your ability to remain level-headed under pressure, and your exceptional knowledge of the cars and the sport were the reason why williams was in their position.

it was the sole reason why you were the leader of the pack. sure, the car helped, but a majority of the credit was due to the american driver. 

the first american female driver to ever win points. the first to ever win a grand prix. the first woman to win five consecutive grand prixes.

the only woman to ever win a grand prix. 

you were one of one. 

additionally, you were the second woman in the history of the sport to ever score points, decades after lella lombardi paved the way. 

there was so much at stake, so much weight to be carried on your shoulders. 

yet, here you were, lightly snoring, your lips parted as your brows twitched, lashes fluttering. 

it seemed the closer the two you got, there was always something that tried to pry you further apart. 

hours ago, toto received an email in his inbox from the mercedes public relations team, formally asking the team principal if he could maintain his distance from the williams driver. this was mainly for the sake of the image of the team as a whole. 

to manage this, he needed to refrain from speaking to the driver in either one of the garages, in the paddock, in any area of the track or designated team areas. this was to be during press conferences, and well throughout any public interaction with the driver before, during, or between racing events. 

of course, mercedes supported the decisions he made in his personal life wholeheartedly and wanted nothing but the best for him when it came to his romantic and personal endeavors. however, with the current public perception of his romantic relationship with the williams driver, it was best that he focused solely on the team and their potential accomplishments for the time-being. the team was his top priority for the weekend. 

oh, and the most crucial aspect of the entire email. 

we hope that you abide by our advice and take the necessary precautions. we are hoping for a great weekend in canada!

some fucking email that was.

although there was no formal threat of repercussions, the team principal was not going to take any risks. 

even if it slightly killed him inside to do so.

it appeared that in order to have access to you, toto was going to have to tread carefully. there would have to be thoroughly coordinated meetings, where he would have to sneak away just to even catch a glimpse of your gorgeous face. he would have to slip into your motorhome in the late hours of the night, just as he used to in jeddah, suzuka, and miami. 

however, since that kiss in monaco, things were a little more intense. 

there were eyes now. on both of you. 

eyes that would follow his every move, watching as he departed from the paddock or garage. eyes that were trained by pr teams to ensure that the delicate mercedes reputation remained intact. eyes that were determined to keep the two of you separated, no matter his frustration or protest. 

you were going to be so close, yet so far. 

he would be able to look, but not touch. 

and fuck, was that shit was going to drive him absolutely insane. 

on a similar note, you had gotten the notification from the williams public relation team just as you were boarding the jet. 

although you received the same sort of message within the email, you also happened to get a text from james. 

that one was far more threatening, laced with a sour bitterness that had toto’s blood boiling, his fists tightening on the armrests, knuckles tinged white. 

i do not want to see you look in the direction of the mercedes paddock while we’re in montreal. and if i catch you talking to him between practices or the race…

as much as toto prompted you to get into contact with the human resources department to report the text, you protested. mostly due to the fact that you were already in hot water with williams. despite their reassurances that you were not to face consequences for monaco, there was still that anxiety gnawing away at you, an ever-looming thought in the back of your mind. 

even if you weren’t in trouble for your romantic pursuits, williams had made it very clear that they did not approve of the relationship. 

at least, their public relations department, some members of the board, and james, your team principal, had made it very clear. 

and to you, that was enough to keep you on your best behavior. 

however, there were approximately eleven more hours of the flight before you made it to your destination. 

for the mercedes team principal, that meant he had to savor your presence for eleven more hours before the two of were forced to go your separate ways. 

fuck the mercedes pr team for suggesting those pitiful rules. fuck the williams pr team for reminding you of their disapproval. 

and most importantly, fuck james vowles for speaking to you that way. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“there she is!” 

“hi,” you wave, suppressing a giggle as he waggles his brows, pointing finger guns in your direction.

“how’d it gooo? did you two lay under the starlight and give one another googly eyes until the sun rose over the beautiful mountains of monte carlo?”

alex is peering at you, his gaze honed in as you shrug, “it was fine.” 

he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “you guys spent days together and you can’t tell me a single detail?” 

carefully, you scan the room, taking in your surroundings. currently, you were in the williams paddock, situated next to alex in one of the many debrief rooms. james was going to arrive any minute, ben in tow, along with members of the core crew. 

keeping your voice low, you fidget with the sleeves your hoodie, grateful for the traces of citrus and spice that lingered, “james texted me before i boarded my flight here.” 

alex straightens in his seat, leaning forward so that your voice didn’t have to carry, “no shot. what did he say?” 

“he said that he didn’t want me to even look in the direction of the mercedes paddock,” the words are shaky, brimmed with apprehension, “the text had a really off-putting tone to it. toto wanted me to report it but i’m not sure if i should. i’m already in an awkward position with williams and i don’t want to complicate things further.” 

alex’s tongue runs along his lower lip, the driver’s brows scrunched together. there’s concern glittering in his gaze, his fingers resting on his chin. 

“that’s really shitty of james considering i was there at that meeting following monaco. everyone seemed to be in good standing with one another. i remember patrick reminding you over and over again that you weren’t in any sort of trouble. maybe he said that so you could focus on the race this weekend?” 

“probably,” you mutter, slumping into the chair, “it just fucking sucks, you know? all of this back and forth. it’s like having fucking vertigo. one minute i feel like i’m on cloud nine, and the world loves me. james is over the moon, and the crew is hoisting me up into the air. within seconds, everyone is avoiding me. they’re shooting me dirty looks or spreading shit about me on social media. they’ll murmur under their breath that i’m a homewrecker or a slut.”

before you know it, alex has several tissues is his grasp, gently laying them on your thigh. raising your read, you feel the slickness of tears on your heated cheeks, your palms clammy as you wipe them on your sweats.

“i cannot imagine how fucking hard this must be for you.” 

“it is,” your lower lip trembles as you dab the tissue on your lids, “why do you think i flew out to monte carlo? why do you think i’ve been avoiding wantage? ignoring the emails? i just don’t feel like my relationship with williams is genuine anymore. sometimes i regret that race in monaco–”

“hey,” a thumb massages your shoulder, his voice light, “don’t ever feel guilty about that race.”

you shake your head, the words spilling out of gritted teeth, “if i would have let charles overtale me, he would have won. i would have never left that podium. i would have never kissed–”

“everything okay in here?” 

a voice rings through the room, your head swiveling to the doorway.

james enters the room, the williams crew following in suit. using your sleeve, you brush away the tears, exhaling as alex tosses the tissues in the nearest trash bin. he scrunches his nose, nudging you with his knee.

“you’re welcome for that.”

“what would i do without you?” a laugh bubbles up in your throat as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, bringing you in for an affectionate embrace. 

his mouth hovers by your ear, eyes darting to james before shifting back to you, “we can talk more later. i promise. i want to know how you and your pookie bear are doing!”

“okay you two,” james clicks his tongue, “i hate to interrupt gossip hour, but it’s time to discuss racing strategies for the weekend. unfortunately spilling secrets about a certain team principal does not get us anywhere in terms of winning.”

at his snide remark, you feel a twinge of frustration brew in your stomach, churning it into a knot as james’ attention falls on you, his arms folded across his chest, brow arched ever so slightly. 

“can you promise us that you’ll be one hundred percent focused on the race this weekend? one hundred percent dedicated to williams and only williams?”

your jaw clenches, brows knitting together, “isn’t that what i’ve been – yes. i can promise you that.i’ll be dedicated to the team this weekend, just as i’ve always been.”

“good,” james’ expression is unreadable as he tuts, “okay! let’s get started. ben, would you like to begin with the latest upgrades to the cars?”

mirroring the others, you slide the headphones over your ears, ben’s voice drowning in your ears as dives into the subject at hand. 

as much as your mind wanted you to pay attention, to listen closely, you were not present. 

not one bit.

your thoughts were elsewhere, wandering back to that one individual.

toto. 

fuck, did your heart absolutely ache. 

how were you supposed to maintain your distance for an entire weekend if you could barely keep it together after merely hours apart? 

you could sense your knee bouncing, your teeth gnashing into your cheek, chewing away at the flesh. 

fuck, this was going to suck.  

your thumbs itch, urging you to fish your phone out of your pocket. yet, you know that shouldn’t, as there were numerous eyes right along with you in the room. there were a few times in which you did glance at your phone in the past during debriefings, but that was to simply check notifications, pull up footage, or type a quick response to send back to toto. 

if james happened to catch you peeking at your phone? oh god, he would probably treat you like some sort of child and have you sit right next to him. just so that he could observe your every move and ensure that you were honed in on the tasks at hand. fuck, if he was frustrated enough, he would probably snatch that phone right out of your hand, keeping it until you all were finished. 

the treatment you were receiving since monaco was becoming more and more insulting. almost degrading, really. 

sure, you were at the top of the leaderboard. sure, you were one of the best drivers that the team had signed in a years. sure, you were writing history with every record you shattered. 

but when you were involved with the team principal of mercedes, those things didn’t really matter. you were treated like a petulant child, disciplined for something that was beyond your control. 

there was no reason to punish you over the man you were in love with. 

yet, that was just the reality of the situation. 

as harsh as it was, it was probably wise to keep the two of you separated. although the pr teams were working overtime, busting their asses to squash the rumors, to silence those whispers, there were still the ever-looming truths.

one, you were engaging in a romantic relationship with a man thirty years older than you. 

two, toto was recently divorced. that was not a good look for each party involved. it raised the questions of how long the two of you were really talking, how long you had been tiptoeing around. the heated debates if you actually knew about the divorce or if you were a homewrecker.

and of course, the third and final truth.

the mercedes amg petronas was searching to sign their second driver for the 2025 season. toto especially, as he was their main scout, announcing numerous times that he had spoken with a menagerie of drivers, even beyond formula one. 

the hot gossip was that you were to be that second driver. you were the prized pick, a valuable asset to any team on the grid. the apple of toto’s eye. the object of his every desire. the final piece to his puzzle. 

although the entire world was under the impression that they were just speculations, they were blissfully unaware that it was indeed the truth. 

toto was going to approach james after the canadian grand prix with his proposal. 

all he needed was that blessing, the nod of approval to begin the contract talks.

however, there was that one uncertainty. the one thing that both of you were unsure of, waves of anxiety pumping through your veins each time your mind wandered. 

there was that possibility that james could say no. that there would be no contract talks.

even though it ultimately was up to the driver, the fia had made it very clear there were to be no private meetings, nothing left in the dark. especially if you were to depart ways from williams and sign with mercedes. 

so if james said no, you would be fucked. 

majorly, utterly, completely fucked. 

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[foreverunraveling]

Is it just me, or does Young Royals really love to scare us, lull us into a false sense of security, and then pull the rug out from underneath us (in a way that's much worse than the original threat)?

For example, you see August clocking Wille leaving the movie before Simon in episode 2.

You (if you weren't too distracted by the scene itself) might have worried that he might show up when they were having their first kiss there. But he didn't. The show consciously created that tension and then relieved it as a foreshadowing of the much worse version of that to come later.

That tension is recreated at the end of episode 4 when August is shown outside a window at Forest Ridge.

There's a brief moment of relief--he's at Alex's window, not Wille's. While you know deep down where this has to be going, you still have a kernel of hope. And then even when he does make it to Wille's room, you can't tell it's a boy (let alone Simon) for five full seconds. Hope tries to stay alive. We all know how it ends, though--that tension snaps right back into our faces when August spots Wille and Simon moments later.

This happens on a different scale with Wille and Simon's planned weekend together in episode 3. When Wilhelm tells Simon that August will be staying at Forest Ridge, that introduces a tension of "will they get their weekend together?"

That tension of "will they get their weekend together" is relieved when Wille asks if he can come to Simon's in Bjarstad, only to AGAIN snap right back into our faces when a much bigger problem surfaces--Erik dies. So, they don't get their weekend anyways.

Hell, there's even a hint of this in episode 2 when August walks in on Wilhelm looking at Simon's Instagram before rowing practice. He doesn't actually see what Wille was doing, though--so it's okay--and he ends up taking a call from Erik.

In another way, this happens with Wilhelm and Felice's relationship from season 1 to season 2. She initially kisses him in episode 3, and we worry that he might just go with it. He doesn't, though. What a relief. In the next episode, though, once he's crown prince, Wilhelm is publicly flirting with Felice (despite her relationship with August) over how "cute" she looks in a video. But our worries about this fade with the release of the video and Felice's support into season 2...

Until they actually almost hook up in the third episode, that is.

And it's definitely not limited to Simon and Wille and their relationships. It comes up with Sara and August too. When he initially kisses her in episode 4 of season 1, you might worry that maybe Sara will respond in a less-than-healthy manner, or that she'll keep what happened to herself instead of telling Felice. Sara rebuffs him, though, and tells Felice about what happened in the stables later that episode.

Tension introduced and relieved, so we move on. But then in the final episode of season 1, Sara goes to August's room to confront him about the video. And she ends up kissing him. In season 2, they end up being in AN ENTIRE SECRET RELATIONSHIP that Sara keeps from Felice. The original fear that you might have had about August twisting his way into Sara's heart was well-founded, it seems.

There are also smaller examples. Like when you see Erik driving incredibly fast in episode 1, or when you see Wilhelm riding on the scooters with Simon, Rosh, and Ayub in episode 2, some people worried there might be some kind of accident. (He was going hands-free, for fuck's sake.)

Well, in both of those instances, everything turned out okay, while Erik's actual offscreen accident in episode 3 obviously did not.

The anxiety about Marcus catching Wilhelm and Simon kissing at the Valentine's party is momentarily alleviated when it looks like him and Simon are going inside, but then Marcus turns around and sees Wille (not to mention he sees Simon eyeing Wille throughout the entire song and during the applause).

Let's not even get started on the drugs. We thought that storyline was resolved, gone, done away with after Alexander was seemingly expelled during season 1.

But then he's back in season 2, and the question of whether anyone will tell Alex that Wilhelm was the one to pin the blame on him arises. It seems a minor issue--given that Alexander wasn't actually expelled, and he seems to like Wille, we don't necessarily expect it to matter all too much. In episode 6, though, the "drug thing" is back at the top of our list of problems. We thought that this had been dealt with! That we'd gotten past it!

But it's worse than before--there's a pill bottle with Simon's father's name on it, and August has it! August has a potential witness behind him (Alex) and is threatening to tell not just the school, but the cops!

Don't worry, though, the tension is relieved when Simon tells Wille he's not going to report August to the police... for approximately six seconds until we see that Sara is reporting August instead.

Anyways, following this pattern, you can draw some really interesting potential conclusions about season 3 based on some of the big tension reliefs that have occurred over the past two seasons. Not saying that any of these will happen, but I'm preparing myself for anything:

Wilhelm has some sort of drug OD—like Simon (and some of the audience, probably) worried on the night of the Society party. This is one I'm really hoping doesn't come up.

Wilhelm actually kills August—when Wilhelm puts that gun down, it's a massive relief for most of us (also the characters present). This would just be... wild. And would explain Omar's tweets about how crazy the season is, I guess.

Sara outs Stella's crush on Fredricka, like she was threatening to do when Felice was moving out of their room at the Manor House. Istg if she does this I might lose it.

Wilhelm's mother dies. This was definitely one idea on some people's minds when Wilhelm takes that call that turns out to be about Erik in episode 3.

Wilhelm actually abdicates. This is definitely a threat made in season 2 that was later assuaged. I'm pulling for Wilhelm taking the throne only to abolish the monarchy. That might be a bit too optimistic on my part, though.

ALTERNATIVELY, August gets the throne. They teased us with this when Wilhelm almost didn't give the speech. August was literally walking up to the podium when Wille leapt up to take his place and momentarily rescued us from the notion that August was going to be ascending the throne.

Wilhelm and/or Simon and/or Sara get pulled from Hillerska. After the video, both Simon and Sara were potentially not going to return to the school. Simon was even late for the first day back, when he missed the choir performance. And Wille was almost physically removed from the school in episode 2 of season 2. Given the statement in the trailer about the school potentially shutting down... this one doesn't seem like too much of a long shot.

It's hard to say what any of this could mean for Simon/Wilhelm's relationship—I mean, in season 1, we had about six instances where we thought we'd get Simon and Wilhelm together and originally didn't (the first music room scene, the conversation after Erik's memorial, the second music room scene/drug situation, the video leak, Wilhelm LYING about the video leak).... the reasons kept getting worse and worse, until there's a release of tension when Wille says he won't deny the video—only for it to be far more crushing when he does deny it having promised otherwise. It seems like there's a new, bigger problem every time they turn around. So far, they've overcome all of the obstacles they've faced (honestly, I don't know how)... but I can't imagine that they're about to be facing an easy course based on that trailer.

Anyways, these are my meandering thoughts about some ways that we can try to guess at what we might have coming based on the show's patterns and its use of foreshadowing. Like I said, I'm just trying to mentally prepare myself for some of the wild-ass shit that might go down. So these are some crazy scenarios based on a few fake-outs that we've had so far. I'm still hoping that they don't take the smallest, most hopeful bits of seasons 1 and 2 and crush them in season 3....