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gretavanlace · 11 months

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Debauchery Defined

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, masturbation, dirty talk, dangerous situations, oral sex (m/rec), illegal activity (traffic related), etc. jake in a hat briefly - cause that shit deserves a warning. Probably typos, excessive italics as per usual, blah blah blah

“I’m sorry, sir, I have nothing under the name of Kiszka.”

The bored attendant, slouched upon a stool beneath an Enterprise sign, doesn’t even have the decency to sound mildly apologetic.

The sign is bright. Too bright for the hour. Too bright for the weary, sleep deprived, burn in your eyes. Just too bright.

Judging by the furrow in his brow, despite his ever present sunglasses, Jake shares your contempt for the fluorescent glow.

“I made a reservation days ago.” You reiterate, spelling his last name once more. Turns out, it’s a lesson in futility, as the clerk doesn’t even bother to type it in.

“I told you,” he snaps, fixing you with a glare. You sense he thinks it reeks of authority. It doesn’t. “There’s no rental reservation. Spell the name all night long if you feel like it, but it isn’t going to change anything.”

Jake, in a smooth rush, is leaned in closer - serpentine and quick in his movement. Yet, calculated, careful, eerily calm in that unsettling way he adopts when irritation is trudging toward anger.

His warning comes quietly, but it bears a menacing aura all the same. “Speaking to her that way is ill advised, I can promise you that.”

Your hand finds his arm, stroking soothingly through the worn hopsack of the blazer he layered on, hours ago, before your flight. “Jake, it’s alright.”

Never aggressive just for show, and certainly never overtly so, when Jacob feels someone is crossing a line with you, he is quick to polish his armor - a knight sweeping in to save his damsel in distress.

He relaxes visibly beneath your touch and navigates back to civility with a deep breath.

“Alright…” he flicks a glance at the name tag that rests crookedly on the other man’s shirt “Tyler. So you don’t have the reservation - we need a car. You have cars. Simple. Why is this an issue?”

He’s tired, and cranky…a long day of travel has leeched the patience from his bones.

Tyler, likely used to overwhelmed travelers frequenting the airport kiosk, remains unimpressed. “I have one available vehicle. Luxury class. Reserved for our most discerning clients.”

Jake rolls his eyes, clearly teetering on the edge of asking this asshole if he’d like to taste the back of his hand. “As it happens, I am discerning. How lucky for us. We’ll take it.”

Papers are signed, keys are exchanged, and finally, you’re schlepping through the hall leading to Parking garage B7, as instructed.

“Luxury for discerning clients.” He scoffs, hefting his bag, and yours, over his shoulder, though you continue to insist you can share the load.

His battered guitar case swings against his legs as he stomps along, “What an asshole. S’probably some boat of a Lincoln or something…I’m gonna look like a pimp.”

The wide-brimmed hat cocked low over his shades will be most fitting, then, won’t it?

Laughing at his dramatics - not so different from his twin, after all - you watch the doors whoosh open to reveal a deserted sea of concrete. Deserted that is, save for one lone sports car waiting beneath a flickering light.

You both stop short. “Or a frat boy douchebag.”

“Frat boys can’t afford cars like that.” You correct, nudging him to get moving.

He picks up the pace dutifully, “So, just a douchebag, then?”

“Yes, yes, Jacob…you’re very refined and everybody knows it.” You tease, ever the soft heart for his antiquated flare. “If anyone sees you, we’ll just explain that your horse and buggy are in the shop.”

His eyes rove across the lines of the car as you approach. Slyly sweeping over the glossy, black curves, almost hidden below the mysterious shadow of his hat.

“I’ll drive.” He mutters as if it’s no big deal, startling your feet to a standstill.

Never, not once, in the entirety of all the time you’ve known him has he ever offered to drive. In fact, now that you’re exploring the subject, you don’t think you’ve ever even seen him so much as graze a finger over a steering wheel.

“Do you…” you pause to collect your jumbled thoughts. “Do you even have a driver’s license?”

It seems strange, all at once - that you’ve never wondered about this before.

“What?” He laughs, finally shaking off the annoyance he’s been wearing on his shoulders for a few too many hours.

You wait while he presses a button on the key fob, opening the trunk with a smooth hiss, asking “well, do you?” as he dumps the bags, and his Gibson, inside.

You’ve seen him present identification hundreds of times, but you can’t recall it ever being anything but his passport.

“Purse in the boot or up front with you, darling?” He asks with an exaggerated swagger and flourish.

“Stop avoiding the question, Jacob.” You sigh, folding your arms as he slings your purse over his shoulder, abandoning Oliver, and moving to open the passenger side door for you. “Do you or don’t you?”

He waits until you’ve settled and then bends at the waist, offering a forehead kiss, and a secret. “I don’t. You wanna break a few rules with me, hall monitor?”

You feel your eyes widen as if he’s just confessed to casual murder for sport.

But you tamp it down and take hold of some perspective, this isn’t murder. Still, you don’t like it.

“Jake, don’t drag me into your debauchery. If you want to endanger the lives of hundreds of unsuspecting motorists, you can do it alone.”

In response, he swings the door closed and jogs around the sloping, gleaming hood, slipping into the driver’s seat, gentle and sleek as a sleepy housecat.

“I never said I didn’t know how to drive, baby,” he tosses his hat in the back and shakes out his waves, “just that I failed to revisit the DMV when ‘the man’ said my time was up.”

“This is stupid.” You slide down in your seat, careful not to reveal how much you’re enjoying the supple leather coasting along the backs of your thighs where your shorts have ridden up.

The opulence is an undeniable high. One you wouldn’t have expected, but there all the same.

He grins to himself, face lit up, beautiful and bright, like a little boy in a toy store. “Debauchery,” his voice is smooth as whipping cream. Smoky. Lazy. Like he plays behind the wheel of a flashy Porsche every day. “Immoral behavior that involves sex, drugs, alcohol, etcetera.”

“What?” You’ve begun to relax already. He is skillfully maneuvering the vehicle through the twists and turns of the garage. Okay, so maybe he does know how to drive.

“Debauchery. That’s what it means. It isn’t this.” He waves a hand, absently calling attention to the car. “But don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours, my love. I’ll have you dragged down into the thick of it soon enough.”

Leaning back against the headrest, you decide to give into his whim and enjoy the ride. It’s lovely to be able to strip off the stress of the day and let him take over the department of transportation, for once.

As you study him, with the hum of the road and the purring engine serving as white noise, you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips.

“Jacob Kiszka,” you allow your grin to widen as it will, “I never would’ve guessed you’d be such a guy.”

He grabs for your hand, pleased that - as luck would have it - he has been blessed behind the wheel of an automatic…the absence of a gear shift leaves him open to holding onto you, and you are his favorite thing to hold.

“What are you on about?” Oliver pops in to say hello again, as is habit when Jake feels a bit too on the spot.

“Never once have you wanted to drive,” you remind him, lacing your fingers through his. “No matter how many times I tease you for being a passenger princess. Wave one fast car with a pretty paint job under your nose and you’re swimming in testosterone.”

A soft laugh is his only response as he coaxes out onto the freeway.

“You look good behind the wheel, baby. You know that?” Your free hand toys with a lock of his hair, smoothing it and twirling it around your pinky.

“I look good, always.” he sighs, feigning boredom as he weaves in and out of traffic to find his desired lane.

The further away from the hub of the city you drive, the more traffic begins to dissipate, until you seem to be adrift along some dystopian highway time has forgotten.

“How long?” You ask softly.

Staring out the window at the scenery whipping by sounds lulling, you might even fall asleep to it, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, and this calm, capable, skill set you never knew he possessed.

How like him to keep you on your toes, sharing bits and pieces of himself little by little. Doling out tiny Jacob Thomas shaped morsels only when he sees fit.

“Who cares how long?” He glances up at nothing in the rear view mirror. “This is nice.”

“It is.” You agree. Allowing the silence to wrap up warmly around you both again.

You watch him. And you watch him. And you watch him some more.

And you’d help it, if you could. Honest. The timing is most inappropriate. Not to mention, likely a little dangerous, but something about watching him command all that power beneath his hands has you weak. Submissive. Needy.

In moments of weakness in the dark, you’ve confessed that you feel the same watching him play. The way he makes love to his well worn and loved guitar. The way he coaxes sex soaked wails and whines from the strings, working his fingers faster and faster along the frets until the climax crashes apart, exploding into sound where there once was quiet.

The way he talks to her, the way he loves her. The way he knows her body just a little better than he knows yours, or even his own. It all makes you a bit jealous in the most decadent way. It makes you eager to showcase your worth as well, to sink to your knees in service to this god walking around amongst men.

He holds a brand new power and you want to slink into his lap and mewl like a kitten starved for attention. Instead, you settle for moving in closer, brushing a feathery kiss against his neck, nuzzling into the crook of it, unabashedly brazen with your want.

“Hello, my love.” His eyes never stray from the road, but his hand wanders your thigh, welcoming you. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m wet.” It’s a simple admission, but the way you hush it in his ear causes his cock to stir. It takes so little from you to pluck at his edges until he’s unraveling at the seams.

“Why’s that?” He adjusts in his seat, spreading his thighs just enough to make your head spin. “All I’m doing is driving a car. Is that all it takes?”

“Sometimes.” You sound pouty. It’s hardly there at all, but he hears it and he loves it. His spoiled rotten sweetheart.

“Well, I’m a little busy, love.” He slides his hand higher, silently wishing you had chosen a skirt today. “But you go on and be sweet to that pretty pink place I love so well. I miss your pussy, baby…it’s been such a long day. Miss the way you feel, the way you smell, the way you taste. I want you all over my face, fuck. Touch yourself.”

“Right here in the car?” You suck his earlobe into your mouth and the nibble over it as if he is an indulgent treat, because he is.

“Yeah.” He nods, grip tightening around the steering wheel, “Right here in the car.”

Maybe some other time you might toy with him a bit, dangle the string just out of his reach, but you’re further off track than he is at this point, so you shimmy out of your shorts and slide out of your sandals to rest your toes on the dash. Your knees fall apart as your fingers disappear into your panties with the tiniest moan when your fingers brush over your clit.

“Aren’t you such a good girl?” He pats at your thigh in praise, burying his grip into the soft, warm flesh there. Filthy, fucking dirty little thing, touching her pretty, wet cunt in a car we don’t even own just because I asked. So good, baby. Who’s my well behaved, darling girl?”

Sometimes you think his need to praise you rivals your own deep-rooted lust for receiving it.

“I’m your good girl.” You breathe, writhing slowly in your seat, drawing in the scent of sex and Italian leather, laced with the faintest hint of his cologne. It has faded with the hours, handing the spiced teakwood over to something a little more Jake…this is when you love it best.

“Then be my good girl and come over here. Come see me, sweetheart.” He extends an arm, casually inviting you in. You know what he wants, and you plan to give it to him.

For a moment, you're both illuminated in the golden glow of headlights traveling along across the median…he looks like the slickest snake masquerading as an angel. A serpent in the garden, ever tempting and cunning.

It’s all a front, as you well know. A role he plays when he wants to make you quake with desire. His heart is soft and kind, ever mindful of others, ever stuffed full of unending empathy and thoughtful love.

Unbuckling your seatbelt with a click that makes him frown, you slide over to the very edge and toy with the clasp of his belt, panting hot little puffs of breath against his flushed cheek, if only to stir him up further.

“You want that?” He lifts into your touch so you can feel how hard he is, all for you.

“Yeah,” tiny pecks of your lips chart his jawline. “Yeah, I want that.”

“Say it.” His fingers are in your hair now, curling into a loose fist near the nape of your neck, pushing you down. “Say you want my cock. Say where you want it.”

You’re hurrying now, tenderly fumbling with the buckle, hungry and desperate for it. “I want your cock, Jake. Want it in my mouth…in my throat.”

“Fuck…” it growls out of him strangled and tangled up with hot, salacious, greed. “C’mon, baby.”

You long to preen with pride; he wants it so badly, so suddenly - but there are more pressing matters at hand.

Both hands on the wheel now, he watches as you sink down around him, swallowing him so deeply, and with no real warm up, that you gag, sucking him down further anyway as you retch and sputter around his length, throat both fighting the intrusion and pining for more of it.

“Slow down.” His warning grits out through his teeth. He didn’t want to say it at all, slow is the last thing he wants. He wants to float off into it, stare focused and sure on the road, thoughts lost in the way you sound fighting around his cock, sucking and lapping over him, dying for just a little more, just another taste….

You shake your head adamantly, sending your soft, wet tongue slicking back and forth just along the base, nearly nudging at his balls as they tighten up for you. Every reaction his body hands over is all for you. Always for you.

“Fuck, baby,” his right hand drops to pet at your glossy hair as he fucks up into your kiss. “Gonna make me cum in that pretty little mouth. Feels so fuckin’ good. You want it?”

Nodding urgently, you bury your nose into the soft path of hair that trails below his belly button, choking until your throat is squeezed around him, strangling the thick head of his throbbing cock.

He’s twitching against your lips now, straining and pulsing, fucking throbbing. Obscene and depraved. Perfect.

“M’close, baby,” he’s murmuring raspy, stuttering, pleas as his grip tightens until your scalp stings blissfully. “Keep going, just like that, so close…baby, baby, baby, fuck…”

He’s whining and babbling, broken curses and hissing encouragement that barely makes sense. You couldn’t love it more.

Hollowing your cheeks, you suck hard on the updrawn and then relax your throat, plunging him straight to the back of it in one harsh go with a guttural sound that makes his thighs jerk.

You feel the slight hitch in the gas as he loses his footing on the pedal, and soothe him with a palm swept under his shirt until you can feel his heart hammering against your palm.

He regains focus - you can feel it - and then whispers a soft, “Thank you, sweet girl.” Grateful that your wits have prevailed when his own were waning.

You linger at the base, licking at what you can with his heavy weight cradled in your tongues embrace. He flexes violently, and you brace for it, gluttonous for the warmth of his release, and with a groan and gasp of your name, he doesn’t disappoint.

“Gonna cum, baby,” oh, he sounds so pretty. Trotting out the tiny whimpers that are saved for when he’s really lost in it. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, dontstopdontstopdontstop, fuck fuck fuck—“

Your taste buds dance with him, alive with the delicacy that is Jacob. So warm and perfect, covering your tongue, rolling down your throat, until you can feel him inside you, really inside you, in the way you love most.

He’s a mess above you, but you carry on until he is whining with overstimulation and begging you to stop, lightly pulling you away until you can just barely lap over his glistening tip as he softens against his splayed open pants.

You know he’s thinking of all the ways he plans to return the favor when he can properly get his hands on you, but as he catches his breath beside you and steals glances at you tucking his beautiful cock away, you feel completely, totally, blissfully, satisfied.

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saintslewis · 8 months

Text

“𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑”

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

˖ ࣪⭑ - pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc

˖ ࣪⭑ - summary: first date with the world’s newest married couple!

˖ ࣪⭑ - warnings: cursing, brand names, outfits descriptions, smau, typos.

˖ ࣪⭑ - saint’s team radio: aaannnnndddd we’re back! have quite a few wips so that took my time mainly lol. i truly love these two and i hope you guys do too 🥹. like i said, maybe i should make a schedule for this. hope you enjoy and let me know if you wanna be tagged 🤭.

pls do like, reblog and comment!

Tell me your thoughts guys!!!

masterlist

previous chapter

"what the fuck did we just do?" Nadia blurted out as she held the small but extremely expensive red bag in her shaking hand, her other hand over her mouth as she stared at it.

The man in question closed the car door to the backseats, making sure the two other shopping bags were secure. Climbing into the car, he looked at the frightened woman and desperately tried to hide his smile as she took small breaths. Eventually calming down with him typing on his phone, she reached into the deep red bag that read 'Cartier' and carefully took out the delicately wrapped boxes that held their respective wedding rings.

Walking into the luxurious store was a mission in itself as the newly married 'couple' had to pretend for the first time. With Lewis assuring her that it was usually empty during that specific time of day, Nadia tried to keep her cool together by entering the store she would only window shop from. Immediately when entering the private entrance, she could already feel the difference in the atmosphere, the quiet music through the hallways became a bit too overwhelming for her. What Nadia couldn't do was to understand what life she would be living from here on out, each step dragging the next as she watched the Harrods' security guards stand firm in their positions, guarding the gold elevator. Keeping within close proximity of each other, their arms would brush against each others from time to time and everytime she would glance at Lewis, he looked so unphased it was scary. It looked like he's been doing this for years.

As the two turned the corner and the jewellery store came into view, Nadia looked around at the other stores forming what seemed like a cul de sac within the store. The red and gold exterior of Cartier caught her eye and she and the man she was with gathered the workers and the customers attention. Giving a subtle nod and smile to both security guards standing on guard at the entrance, they opened the large Oakwood doors and a strong scent captivated her.

"Could I hold your hand?" Lewis asked quietly, holding his hand out for the younger woman to surprisingly grab onto in lightning speed. "My hands are really sweaty right now, I'm sorry." Nadia stressed. With their fingers intertwined and Lewis' cold rings managing to cool down her hand, he led into the shop where a sales associate was waiting patiently, gasping when she saw Lewis without his sunglasses and a woman standing next to him. Displaying a selling smile, the sales associate fixed her blazer and signaled to the security guards to close the doors.

"Mr Hamilton, what a pleasure to have you join us this afternoon. Greetings to the both of you. My name is Kim and I will be helping you today." Kim had said with a professional voice, leading them to her work desk near a counter showcasing diamonds and emeralds. "What brings you in today?" She asked, sitting on her desk chair and clearly directing the question towards Lewis. Before saying his words, Lewis knew that nothing he could say would be out these doors as the employees sign NDAs almost every week.

"Well, my wife couldn't find her ring at all for the past two weeks and rather decided to get a new one." He explained as he pulled out the chair for Nadia to sit before he did. The pure shock on the sales associate's face was borderline comedic, her jaw nearly dropping to the floor. "O-oh! Well, we definitely have a lovely range of wedding rings that would be suitable for the both of you, seeing as you guys are such a beautiful couple." Kim said with a shaky laugh, reaching to give them a look book for their purchase.

"I'll give you guys a couple of minutes to decide." And with that, the ever so young sales associate stood up from her assigned desk and left Nadia and Lewis to make their decision. Releasing a sigh she had kept in her from the moment they walked through the door, she looked at Lewis who just picked up the catalog and flipped through the pages.

"How are you so calm right now? My hands can't stop sweating, what the fuck." Nadia whisper-yelled, trying not to wipe her hands on anything near her whilst breathing through her nose. "I'm just used to this but it would've been nice if she wasn't so nervous." He shrugged his shoulders, leaning comfortably into the seat and his eyes scanning into the catalog. "Do you want to leave? Because we can. I really don't want you to be uncomfortable." Lewis suggested, placing his hand on her shoulder, somehow making her face him. Studying his face, she looked into his eyes as the sincerity poured out. He was worried, the fear literally showing through her but as she shifted her eyes to Kim who looked like she was coming over, a switch flipped in her.

Quickly grabbing the open catalog from the table, Nadia scanned the pages and landed on a ring that screamed at her with its luxury and simplicity. "Oh this is just stunning." She grinned, pointing at the picture of the ring. To say Lewis was surprised was an understatement but he could see what she was doing and it was smart. "It really is. Is this the one you want?" He asked, leaning close to her and noticed she didn't even move. Oh, she was really selling this.

"It's perfect." Nadia smiled so much so that her eyes closed.

"Wait so what do I say? Like happy 2 years or something?" Nadia asked, turning her body in the car seat to face Lewis. The two hadn't even put the rings on yet but they already were planning what to post on instagram.

"No clue. Did you choose what to post? Tia is bugging me about that." He said, sighing out for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Snapping her eyes at the man, he caught the look she sent him then clarified that she was his main pr manager. "I think I'll go with the flow when I choose the pictures." Awkwardly enough, Lewis and Nadia exchanged phone numbers and had to share a few photos with each other to have something to post for the world.

"You know, your dad mentioned that we should tell our friends before we tell the world." She said, slumping her head back into the surprisingly soft headrest. "Yeah. Uh my friends are in town so we could probably do something with them and announce it there." Lewis said, scratching at his hair out of nerves. He never was someone who got nervous often but this entire situation kept playing on his mind.

"Alright then. Home time?" He suggested, watching her nod before he even finished his sentence. He soon drove off with her address already on the car display, watching her as she admired the streets of London. They both knew this was going to be a long journey but it was worth helping each other out as their friendship began to bloom.

"Lewis?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you actually do for work? I feel like we've been talking about my job so much that I haven't taken the chance to know what you do. Y'know, besides shopping at Cartier so much that the workers recognise you." She asked, facing the car window and looking out as they passed through Central London. "Well um, I work in Formula One and it's been my..thing for the past 30 years." He revealed as he stopped at the red light, people from outside most definitely couldn't see inside the car even they tried.

"30? Oh my god, they had you working at 2?!" For this, Nadia sat up and looked at Lewis in astonishment, making him burst out laughing. "How old do you think I am?" He could barely get the question before giggling once again. "I thought you were at least 32. How are you older than 32?" Fully facing him now, Nadia couldn't believe what she was hearing because in her eyes, his features were very youthful (similar to hers but she didn't want to brag). "I'm 38, January 7th." Lewis said, giving her a closed smile.

Racking everything that she just learned about him, it all came back to her. Most Fridays when her students (whoever had History that time) would request to watch anything F1 related whilst she focused on something else or when the name 'Hamilton' was constantly thrown around between the last few minutes of classes almost every week. Even the 4 years she's been teaching at the same school, they would make a big deal every July before schools closed for the race in Silverstone and constantly cheer on the same British driver, Hamilton. Her new last name.

"Are you good? you went quiet on me for a second." Lewis glanced at Nadia as she had a slight pout on her face as she looked straight ahead, clearly her concentration face. "Just realised that most of my students adore you, borderline obsessed with you." She muttered but he heard her loud and clear. "And I don't know shit about you except that you drive super fast cars on weekends." She began clicking her nails as a way to distract her from her busy mind. "Okay, how about we go on a fake date after we tell the world about our marriage to get to know one another so we can understand our new lives now. Is that okay with you?" Lewis suggested and truly, Nadia's heart swelled a little.

"Can I dress up or will I be judged for that?"

"Anything you want."

The next day.

"Wait. I'm confused. Your PR lady wants to have a meeting with me when? After we launch? Because I'm gonna be really busy with my students tomorrow." Nadia was extremely stressed and rightfully so. After everything happened yesterday, it was time to worry about the logistics of this 'relationship.'

"Tia said she's around London now so maybe you two could meet at a café somewhere in case you're not uncomfortable with her being at your place but she preferred to do it before everything gets crazy." Lewis spoke over the phone. Nadia kept quiet for a few moments as she skimmed over a few facts about Lewis on her laptop. "Wait, you were knighted?" She asked, seeing the photo of Lewis with the badge she recognise as the one that knights usually get. "Are you looking me up right now?" The laugh threatened to come out as he slowed down on the treadmill. "What? I wouldn't." Nadia closed the laptop with speed as if he could see what she was doing.

"Uh huh... anyways, should I forward her number to you or should I make the call?" Lewis pretended as if the biggest smile didn't paint his face at that very moment. "Just send it to me and I'll probs invite her over. We'll talk later then." The two said their goodbyes and went back to whatever it was they were doing.

Placing her phone down next to her on the couch, she sat in silence as it all dawned on her. The man she is legally married to is one of the world's most famous athletes with millions and millions of supporters. Spending almost the whole morning researching anything she needed to know, her chest wanted to close in as she looked at everything from stats from his long ass F1 career to his businesses and social life and they didn't call him the busiest driver for nothing. Lewis never seemed like the type of person to relax and chill from the number of things he does in a day. From Fashion weeks to visiting labs for one of his many projects, it was going to be tough to adjust to his lifestyle whilst still being a full time high school teacher but she was willing to do so, to help a friend.

"Again, I'm so sorry for this sudden ambush on you. You're so lovely." Tia apologised once again, making Nadia hold her hand as she shook her head.

The dandelions that Tia brought over were sitting pretty in an empty vase on the living room table, making the room smell so fresh. Tia was definitely a few years younger than Nadia, shown by her enthusiastic energy as soon as she stepped into the apartment.

"So to just get to the gist of it all, you're entering the world of fame without knowing what exactly goes into it. You're gonna need a team, security intel, a refurbished social media look, probably a new bank account and a new address." Tia said, pulling out a notebook from her tote bag. "For now, I'll be your pr manager along with Lewis'. Please just know that this fake marriage idea was a collective decision by the rest of our team because of the scandals that have just been coming our way. I hope I'm not scaring you?"

"Girl, I'm scared as shit right now. What do you mean new address?" Nadia vocalised as her right leg bounced repeatedly. "So in order to make this believable, you'll have to move in with him and we've proposed that you say that you've been secretly married for 2 years. I know that you're going to meet with his friends soon and y'know that date? It has to be tonight because I know you have work tomorrow." Tia flipped her silk press over her shoulder as she placed her hands on the now closed notebook.

Nadia's jaw wanted to drop to the floor but she tried to seem calm as her eyes darted anywhere from Tia.

"So you and I can get ready for this date like we can go shopping, hair and nails then in the evening, he picks you up. How does that sound?" Tia smiled, already packing up her bag.

"Uh-"

"Perfect! Let's go."

"Breathe in and out, Nads. In and out." She quietly told herself as she paced up and down her room, the uncomfortable ysl heels clacked against the floor. Constantly checking if the little black dress wasn’t showing anything that didn’t need to shown.

The Cartier box sat perfectly on her dresser, staring at her and waiting to be opened. Eventually gaining the courage to open it, she gently picked up the ring and slid it onto her ring finger, feeling its weight slightly. Lifting her hand to the lamp, she watched as the diamond glistened, matching the charms and rhinestones on her fresh nails.

Even music couldn’t help her calm down as she anxiously waited for Lewis to say that he’s outside, palms becoming clammy at the thought of going on a ‘date’ with someone as famous as Lewis. The research she did on him was one similar to someone entering a fandom as she tried to remember basic information about her husband.

Walking over to her full length mirror, she scanned over her outfit once more and did quick breathing exercises to calm her down. She did a quick smile and walked out of her room, not forgetting her trusty fluffy slides in case she got tired of her heels.

Whilst taking a few pictures, the knock on her door startled her. Rushing to open up, she carried her new purse and touched her hair a little bit as she reached for the door handle.

The smell of roses mixed with the scent of Lewis’ cologne greeted first as the big bouquet of flowers blocked his face.

“Oh wow…” Nadia muttered as she reached to take the sunset orange roses out of his tattooed arms. Securely holding the bouquet, she looked up to observe the man and his look nearly took her breath away. The soft pastel colours of his sweater vest were matching quite well with the lilac slacks he had on, going casual with the air force ones and not to mention the jewellery that somehow emphasised the cozy yet fashionable style he was going for. It genuinely looked like he was going on a date and so did Nadia. His braids were tied back into a low ponytail and his diamond earrings sparkled quite nicely, the wedding ring he bought himself making an appearance as he lifted his hand to scratch his neck a little.

“Well good evening, Mrs.” Lewis greeted with the slyest smile on his face once he realised that Nadia was indeed checking him out. “Don’t give me that smile, Mr.” She rolled her eyes before turning around and placing the flowers in the kitchen. Seeing as she had everything she needed on her, she walked right back to the front door where he was patiently waiting for her. “Let me hold these for you.” He offered, opening his large hands to take her purse and slippers.

“You sure?”

“We’ve got quite a few flights of stairs to get through. Also, where are your neighbours? It seems like such a quiet building.” Lewis asked, curious as he looked at the closed doors they passed in the hallways towards the stairs.

“It’s mainly small families or students who just always mind their business and close themselves in by this time. It only really get noisy during sports weekends and spontaneous fights.” Nadia said, telling him a bit more about her odd neighbours as they eventually reached the same G wagon she saw yesterday.

He could listen to her talk about literally anything for hours, he told himself as he opened the car door for her, placing her stuff next to her. “Just so you know, there’s going to be some media where we’re headed, thanks to Tia so we just walk quickly whilst waving a little then we enter. Is that okay?” He asked, leaning against the open car door and his right arm caged her in a little. As much as she was distracted by how he was looking at her whilst standing like that, she nodded, somehow losing the voice that was there literally there a few minutes before.

“I have to compete with Nicki Minaj?!” She whisper-yelled as she leaned closer to him in the private booth that faced the rest of the restaurant. Already, the two had caused quite a stir as soon as they exited the car with the paparazzi rapidly throwing questions at each of them, barely giving them a chance to smile and wave as they planned. The security (both Lewis’ and the restaurants) helped them in and to the customers surprise, they entered in with confidence. Them holding hands really sold for everyone, the two waving to fans using their left hands before being escorted to the private booth.

“Well no you don’t have to anymore. It was just a…thing a few years ago.” Lewis said, taking a sip of his drink before leaning back against his chair. “But still! Like your fans literally know you with well known women so what are they even going to do with me?” Rightfully so, Nadia was stressed. This was a big commitment and already she was regretting it.

“I have a feeling that they will love you. As long as you aren’t a complete weirdo then they’ll most likely accept you. Well that’s what someone on Twitter said after hearing about a supposed fling I had with someone.” He assured. He seemed so calm about this and it freaked her out.

“Supposed?”

“Yup. Plus I’m now married to you so everything will swept up under a rug, y’know? Remove any bullshit rumours going on.” He said, sipping his drink once again.

“Again, how are you so calm about this, bruv? Feel like i’m sweating bullets here.” She breathed out, slightly fanning herself even though there was air conditioning in their booth.

“Is that who I am now? Bruv?” He asked, giggling as he looked at her amusingly.

“That is definitely your contact name. Oh! You have to meet my kids, that’s where I get it from.” Nadia spoke, taking a fry from her plate, the food the waiter brought over a while ago.

“Year 8?”

“Nope. Only Year 11 and 12. It was part of the ‘promotion’ but I only studied further to teach Year 8 so right now I’m winging it with my kids and it seems to be going pretty good. They’re excelling.” Nadia chatted, proudly talking about her students.

“You were meant to be a teacher, I swear. The glint in your eyes was so adorable when you spoke about them.” Lewis smiled, also eating his meal.

“Okay, don’t make me blush old man.” She scoffed with a little chuckle making Lewis laugh fully.

“Anyways, where am I gonna live? Tia was very adamant about me moving out to make it look super real.” Nadia changed the subject so quickly, as if it was lightning.

“My main residence is in Monaco but because of what I do, I tend to travel for two months at a time so I’ve got a few houses in another countries. So you can choose where you want to live really. Personally though, I can tell you love your job so this will be a bit tough for you but I get where she’s coming from.” Lewis informed, eating his pesto as if he didn’t just shake up her life a little.

“Oh. I’m gonna have to speak to my higher ups about this. Obvie, I won’t tell them the whole thing but can you give me a week to figure it out? Because it’s also salary that’s no longer gonna be there once I start travelling with you.” Nadia brought up, pinching her leg as thoughts raced through her mind.

“Sure, take as much time as you need because I get that this is a lot. I have a house near Wembley, that’s where I’ve been staying since I arrived so that’s my proposal to you.” He informed, watching her slowly eat her food.

“Well, there wasn’t a proposal to begin with, pookie bear.” Nadia joked, biting down on the fork as she giggled.

“That nickname, Nads.” Lewis giggled at her joke, knowing that she was going to be a joy to be around.

nadiahamilton

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nadiahamilton 2 years down, a lifetime to go 🤍

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randomstudent MISS???? HELLOO???

user oh history is gonna be FUN tmr

lewishamilton my love 💗

nadiahamilton mwah!! 😚

user ma’am you’re joking????? WHAT

nella_rose yo, i leave for a bit and you’re married??? congrats babe omg 😭

user yo miss, what is a 8x world champion doing in your post?

nadiahamilton being my husband :)

randomuser whatever you manifested, GIVE IT

fanpage HE’S MARRIED

15 minutes ago

lewishamilton

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lewishamilton forever and then some with you 🤍

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user NO FUCKING WAY

user well that’s one way to hard launch!

charles_leclerc 😧

lewishamilton 🤣

fencer congratulations on two years brother! 🩷

lewishamilton thank you bro 🫂

nadiahamilton it’s bruv to you 🤨

lewishamilton happy 2 years with my bruv 🫡

nadiahamilton much better 😚

user SHE’S HOT AND FUNNY???? WE’RE SO DOOMED

user and she’s not famous like at all

gigihadid where’s this beautiful woman you’ve been hiding????

nadiahamilton hello Gigi 🤭

gigihadid oh we’re so grabbing lunch soon

user wait so no one knew of her?? not even the drivers ???😭

landonorris MOM?

nadiahamilton hi son?

danielricciardo you don’t just hard launch on us on a random Sunday 😭

lewishamilton oh well, meet my wife! :)

user he really said no more rumours lol

user OMG THATS MY TEACHER HELLO?!

user WHAT

user YEAH THATS MY HISTORY TEACHER

mercedesamgf1 Mrs Mercedes? 🥹

mercedesamgf1 boss man says hi and congratulations! 🥳

fanpage noooo you can’t be married ☹️

user girl get a GRIP

badgalriri oh she’s SEXY

lewishamilton ri, pls don’t steal my wife

nadiahamilton TOO LATE

user the next media day is going to have a BLAST when he shows up 😭

10 minutes ago

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @folkloresthings @tispys-blog @userlando @lorarri @thisismeracing @thatsdemko @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting

(if your acc is blank, that means that tumblr didn’t allow me to tag you/show your account)

dividers by: @cafekitsune

nadia’s fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

all pic creds go to pinterest and insta!

#☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen #formula one x black reader #f1 x reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #formula one x reader #f1 x you #f1 x oc #f1 x black!reader #fake dating #f1 fic #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x black reader

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 1 year

Text

Dislexic

Just a little something I decided to write.

Warnings: dyslexia, reader is in denial

“This isn’t an acceptable standard,” Hotch’s voice is kind but stern.

You feel yourself turn red and you want to crawl into a hole. You hadn’t told anyone. You had not been formally diagnosed but suspected strongly you might be dyslexic. You didn’t want it on your record, having it on your record led to discrimination. Besides, you had methods to deal with it, so it wasn’t like you needed accommodations anyway.

“Yes sir,” It’s the only reply you can think of that doesn’t completely give you away. “I’ll fix it,”

“Make sure you do,” Hotch said, “I want it on my desk before you go home,” It was only typos, Hotch knew it wouldn’t take too long and he needed it as soon as possible, otherwise he wouldn’t be pushing it - in fact, ordinarily, he would have corrected it himself and moved on but with Strauss breathing down his neck, he didn’t exactly have that option right now.

You nodded, heading back to your desk. “You okay?” Morgan furrowed his eyes, you were bright red. “You look a little flushed,”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” You said, dismissing it with a wave, you drop the file on the desk before looking at everything, “I’m putting on some coffee, does anyone want any?” Everyone immediately nodded. Eventually, the coffee was made and you could no longer procrastinate.

You sat down, taking a sip, as you looked at the screen, the contrast between the white of the background and the black of the words already fucking with you. “You okay?” You look up, shooting Morgan a grin.

“Yeah, I’m good,” You answer, “Just tired,”

He nodded in understanding, “That, I understand,” You snort as you both turn back to the files in front of you.

Perhaps reading your notes on the case would help with correcting the file.

“I’ve seen some handwriting in my time, but damn,” Morgan teases lightly as he looks over your shoulder.

You laugh, feeling yourself blush slightly, “I know, I think too fast for the pen,”

“Some studies show that people with messy handwriting have high intelligence,” Reid chimed, you give him a small smile.

It had been hours and you weren’t very far in the report at all. You were on the third paragraph. With each blink you hope that the words stop moving. You had tried everything, turning the brightness down, wearing sunglasses, reading out loud, text to speech, nothing was working. Everything your eyes shifted, the words moved. You sighed, standing up to get another cup of coffee.

“You still on that report?” Morgan asks.

You turn to him, “You are a very nosey man, Agent Morgan,” You declare, Emily gives a laugh, Spencer leaning over for a fist bump (since he saw Morgan and you fist bump the other month, he’s made a point to fist bump as much as physically possible).

“That’s a yes,” Morgan teased.

“Oh, go back to whatever it is you do,” You laugh.

It took another hour but you think you had covered and corrected everything. You think. You hope. And so, clutching the newly printed file in your slightly shaking hand, you made your way up to Hotch. You knocked on his door handing the file to him. Neither of you said anything but, as usual, Hotch picked it up, giving it a quick once over.

“I need it to be a better standard than this, (Y/N),” Hotch said with a sigh, “There’s more mistakes than earlier.”

You pale, “What? No, but-” You furrow your eyebrows. You had spent hours going over it again and again.

Hotch frowned, “(Y/N)?”

You reach over, lightly taking the file from the desk, “Don’t worry, I’ll fix it,” You mumble, “I’m really sorry, I thought I had corrected everything,” You’re gone before he can talk to you about it.

You sit back at your desk, looking at it, debating just talking to Spencer. You didn’t want Hotch to know, he was your boss, he couldn’t know. Spencer, at least, wouldn’t be able to fire you. But the others were here and you really didn’t fancy making an absolute dick of yourself in front of the others. Penelope maybe? No, no, you didn’t want to concern her. You didn’t want to concern any of them. Maybe you could text to speech? But then you would struggle to read it over and try to correct it.

“Hey, Spence?” You ask before fully computing that you had, “Can I ask you to take a look at this? Sorry, my brain’s all over the place and I’m not taking any of it in, I’ll look at one of yours for you, if you want?”

“That’s alright,” Spencer said, reaching over and plucking the file out of your hands.

“Getting Genius to do your files? Nice work,” Derek applauds as he speaks and you roll your eyes.

“I just need a second pair of eyes,” You defended, you turned back to Spencer. His eyes are glazing over your work, eyebrows deeply furrowed. He looks up and you see recognition flicker in his eyes.

“(Y/N), are you- are you dyslexic?”

You point at him, “Ah, not officially, so it doesn’t count,”

“That’s not how that works,” Emily adds.

“Yeah, well, I’m saying it is so it is,”

“Does Hotch know?”

“No, Hotch does not know.” Your shoulders deflate at Hotch’s voice.

You turn around to face him, “Okay, but it doesn’t count if it’s not official. Like I’m not officially dyslexic - like I could just be making it up,”

“Those typos aren’t making it up,” Derek says, “What’s that even supposed to say?”

You peer over, “Necessarily,” You answer, “Obviously,”

“Yeah… Obviously…” Derek and Emily share a glance.

“Look, I’m just saying, not to Gaslight, Gatekeep, Garcia but am I dyslexic or am I just illiterate?” You ask, “That’s the real question, like what if I just can’t read? Hm? Or, what if I’m just being dramatic?”

“I can’t tell if he’s joking,” Spencer said, turning to Hotch.

“I think he’s being serious,”

“That makes it so much worse,” Emily snorted.

“I’m just saying,” You argued, “Like once I thought ‘Oh wouldn’t it be cool to be dyslexic’ and here we are, so I’ve clearly accidentally and subconsciously forced myself to be dyslexic,”

“How- What?” Hotch asked, dragging a hand over his face.

“I’m just saying, it’s possible,”

“I don’t think it is,” JJ argues.

“It doesn’t sound possible to me,” Emily agrees.

“Counter argument, I once thought it would be cool to be an FBI Agent and here I am, so,” You stuck your finger up at them, “I’m right, you’re wrong,”

“Right, and how do you spell ‘right’?” Derek asks, you laugh sarcastically, throwing a pen in his direction.

“Depends on the context,” You answer before sticking your tongue out.

“How have you spelt it every single way?”

“I like to do everything wholeheartedly.”

“How has he spelt them?” Morgan grins, hearing Spencer spell out ‘right’, ‘rite’, ‘write,’ and ‘wright’. “Jesus kid,” He chuckles.

“Like I said, wholeheartedly.” You shrug, “And before you ask, I don’t know how I’ve made it this far,”

“Wait, is that why you asked why Cressida Cowell would name a dragon the Night Furry?”

“Yes, yes it is,”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #Penelope Garcia #david rossi #x reader #x male reader #bau x male reader #bau x reader

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

Text

Through Sickness and Health

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: yes - nonnie!

Prompt: Although Elvis resists your pleas to get rehab at first, a call in the middle of the night sets your mind at ease. Basically, the airport scene from the movie, except you're Priscilla and the fic we all deserve.

TW: Mentions of drugs, rehab, general depression, and just angst

Rating: Pg || Word Count: 3446

A/N: i'm so glad I finally got around to this one! this is a fix-it fic which means its kinda hurt/comfort + this is so much longer than i was anticipating but who's complaining more soft elvis. Also Mx. is a gender neutral term for Mr/Mrs it's not a typo lolol

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You grip tightly onto the strap of the leather handbag in your fingers. Your head drops down and your eyes trace the yellow stitches across the top of the handle. The chilled rain droplets splat and spit all around you, splashing and melting onto your skin. It’s the perfect weather for the day, what the day is and what it brings. You had woken up this morning, looked outside and known that it would be a perfect reflection of how you feel. Your eyes flick up and land on your gorgeous little girl as she runs toward you. You drop to your knees with a big smile, although it’s one that doesn’t reach your eyes. Your arms open wide for her to run into your grasp. You clutch around the little girl with all your strength.

“Hi baby! How was it? Did you have fun with daddy?” you ask, tucking some unwieldy curly blonde hair behind your daughter’s ear. A reminder that your husband, ex-husband, is blonde. “Say bye to daddy.”

You turn her around and point toward the black car with the tinted windows where you can just barely see your ex-husband peering through. Your father-in-law, Vernon, approaches and you stand to give him a quick hug, gently patting his back.

“How are you?” you ask quietly, but he just nods with a solemn expression.

You shoot him a tight-lipped smile. For everything Vernon has put your husband, ex-husband, through, you still feel empathy toward Vernon for what he’s suffered alongside the rest of you. You turn your attention toward the ominous vehicle and gulp hard before taking a deep breath in time with your first step. When you reach the car, a security officer opens it and you carefully climb into the seat next to Elvis. As you sit down, you immediately feel your heart sink. You hate this. How transactional it all is. How business-like your relationship has become. As the door slams, you nervously glance up toward your husband, whose head is tilted down, almost as if he’s asleep.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hi,” you respond, not knowing what else to say.

You’ve been doing this, this exchange, for a while now; almost two years, at this point, but it never gets any easier. And today is more important than any other day because, today, you finally have a plan. Actionable steps that your husband, ex-husband, can take to get better. Moments of silence pass until you speak.

“How are you doing?” you ask, praying for an honest answer.

If nothing else, you know that your relationship still provides room for honesty. You are one of the only people in the world he can be truly honest with. You know you’re gonna get a truthful answer when he just heaves a deep sigh without responding. Your hand flies up out of instinct to touch his face, but it falters in mid air and then falls to rest on his hand instead. He gently curls his fingers around yours, squeezing hard. You bite your lip for a moment, debating whether to continue. As your eyes trace down the sunken posture of his body, his neck, and even his eyes behind a pair of hideous sunglasses, you know it’s now or never. This is your last chance.

“Elvis, honey, listen there’s a place in San Diego…a rehab place. It’s somewhere you can go to rest, to get better, to get help,” you say, although your voice begins to shake from the combination of nerves and grief. “After the show, you can fly directly there and be in a clinic before anyone even knows. I’ve arranged it all.”

“I’m gonna be 40 soon, Y/N…40,” he says incredulously, gently shaking his head. “And nobody’s gonna remember me. I never done anythin lasting. I never made a classic film I can be proud of.”

“What about King Creole? You got great reviews for that. Or A Star is Born?”

“Ehhh,” he responds in a raspy voice and then chuckles. “Barbra a-and the Colonel?”

You can’t help but chuckle along with him this time. But your small fit of laugher quickly triggers the tears that are already threatening to spill out of your eyes. You feel your face screw up in grief and you sniff.

“Please go,” you plead, your voice cracking. “If you dream it, you’ll do it, baby. So dream it for me, please.”

You add the last parts in hopes that it’ll remind him of how things used to be. How happy you both used to be together. How full of life he was.

“I’m all outta dreams,” he responds in a voice drier than sandpaper.

Your free hand flies directly up to your face, pressing into the skin between your eyebrows as you glance out the window. You can’t look at him or you’ll break. You falter for a moment, sucking in a shaky breath and trying to come up with something to say that will convince him.

“Promise me,” you barely choke out. “Lisa needs her daddy back. I need my husband back. I-”

Harsh knocking on the window of the car distracts you, and you turn your head away again as your chest tightens. You sniff hard and wipe some tears before finally gathering the courage to look at him and squeeze his hand. The security person opens the door and you move to get out of the car.

“I’ve never stopped, you know,” you say, glancing back at him. “I’ve never stopped loving you. You are my greatest love and that’s the way it’ll always be.”

He glances up at you lazily, but you can see streams of tears staining his cheeks. You know he wants to say that he loves you. But he doesn’t feel worthy of receiving or giving love. Especially not to you, not after everything he’s put you through.

“Promise me, Elvis Presley,” you say one last time and then pull away.

His grasp on your fingers refuses to release you, but you drag your fingers away anyway. You can’t be around him for another moment. It’ll break you and you’ll never be able to leave. After exiting the car, you turn to watch your husband, ex-husband, board his plane and jet off to wherever the hell it is he’s going now. Seeing him illuminated by the rainy light makes your nostrils flare with the effort of trying not to cry.

I will always love you, he mouths, and your fingers reach up to bunch your coat together. You say nothing but silently beg and plead with him to take up the offer you’d made. You rip your gaze away, shuffling to the car and climbing in next to your daughter. The door slams and you grab her hand, pressing a small kiss to it as the driver begins to roll away. You glance out the window one last time to see Elvis staring back at you. He presses his fingers to his lips and then reaches them out toward you with a wave, blowing you a kiss. You can’t bring yourself to force a smile, just to worry and hope to dear god that he takes the rehab option.

The end.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Just kidding this is a fix-it fic bitch (affectionate) enjoy 💖

You jolt awake and roll over, slamming your fingers onto the hard black plastic of the phone. You pull it away from the receiver and press it to your ear.

“Hello?” you murmur gruffly, sitting up and fumbling to turn the light on. “Who is this?”

“Mx. Y/N Presley?” you hear a woman’s voice on the other line, not familiar but with the state you’re in, it could be your own mother’s voice for all you know.

“Yes, who is this?”

“Mx. Presley, this is Dr. Winters with Goldn Hill House in San Diego. Your husband, Elvis Presley, has checked himself into our rehab center.”

It barely occurs to you to correct the doctor. Your ex-husband…

“He wanted us to notify you and was also wondering if you could bring some of his belongings up to the center so he can get more comfortable here, since he’ll be residing here for about three or so months at least. He gave me a fairly organized list which I would be happy to go over with y-”

“What?” you ask, shaking your head as your fingers finally close around the string to the lamp. You glance up at the clock reading three something in the morning. “I’m sorry. It’s very early in the morning, so I’m afraid I’m a little groggy.”

“It’s not a problem, Mx. Presley. We understand that this can be a lot to digest for family members. Mr. Presley arrived with a Mr. Jerry Schilling around 1:30 this mornin and admitted himself to the center for drug addiction treatment,” the woman continues. “We’ve already discussed any financial requirements and have him set up in a room. He’ll have a few days to settle into his new space and the rehabilitation process will begin on Monday. In the mean time, we’d love to have you come down for a visit. Showing that you care and support his decision would be extremely helpful in this process. Would you have an availability to come up for a visit this weekend?”

“Uh…” you rub your fingers over your eyes, trying to make sense of the information. “Yes, of course. I can be on the next plane out tomorrow.”

Your brain finally starts to catch up, and you feel a strange sense of disbelief mixed with joy. You softly begin to smile, pressing your hand to your chest.

“He really checked in? The actual Elvis Presley, not some impersonator or crazed fan who’s changed their name?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she replies. “We had to confirm his social security information to admit him, and I can assure you that it’s the real Elvis Aaron Presley. He’s been requesting you since he came in.”

You feel a hot tear slip from your eye and release a shaky breath in relief.

“Well, that’s very good to hear. Give me just a moment to get some paper and a pen, and I’ll get that list of his belongings from you.”

You hop out of bed with more energy than you can remember feeling in a long time. As soon as you hang up with the rehab center, you phone Jerry to have the Lisa Marie sent up to Memphis for you. Then, you phone up a neighbor friend to ask them to watch Lisa while you’re gone. You spend the rest of the early morning hours gathering up the objects Elvis has requested and packing a small overnight bag for yourself.

By the time the sun is rising several hours later, you’re gently waking Lisa for a quick kiss and to explain that you’re going to help daddy with something. You hop into the car, thanking your neighbor on the way out, and speed to the airport tarmac where you meet Jerry outside of the plane. He pulls you in for a hug, and you breathe in his familiar scent. You close your eyes, feeling hopeful for the first time in a while.

“Hi, Jerry,” you say. “I can’t express how grateful I am right now. You’ve always been there for him.”

“Not in the way you have, but thank you,” he responds. “You were the one who convinced him to even consider it in the first place.”

You climb onto the airplane together and take your seats as the plane jets off toward San Diego for your roughly four hour flight.

“How did it happen, Jerry? Please tell me.”

“He’d been real quiet all day after leaving the airport. He didn’t say much before the show, but I didn’t think anything of it. I just figured he was probably tired, but then right after the show, he pulled me aside. He said, ‘Y/N told me about this place I could go to rest and I think it’s about time for a good long nap.’ And he just asked me to drive him there right then. He didn’t even want to change, probably didn’t wanna run into the Colonel. So, of course, I did what he asked. I wasn’t about to argue with that. He fell asleep on the ride over there, he was so exhausted. And by the time we got to the center, he was still pretty out of it, but clearminded enough to be very insistent about being admitted. I’m not sure what you said to him on the tarmac, but whatever it was, it worked.”

You smile to yourself, breathing yet another sigh of relief. You both settle in for the flight. Considering that you didn’t get to sleep from three to nine in the morning, it doesn’t surprise you that you fall asleep, letting your eyes drift closed. Until you hear Jerry’s low voice waking you.

“We’re at the airport,” he says as he gently shakes your shoulder.

It takes you less than a few seconds to awaken completely. You’re so excited and anxious to see Elvis. Once the plane doors open, you and Jerry exit. You clutch hard onto the duffel bag of items Elvis requested as you get into a car to drive to the rehab center. The drive is surprisingly short and the place looks lovely. Well manicured lawns, fountains, and plenty of open space; just what Elvis needs. The car rolls to a stop in front of the building, and you walk into the facility with Jerry behind you. The receptionist’s face lights up when she sees you.

“Mx. Presley!!” she says happily. “Welcome, welcome! We’re so glad you could make it. Mr. Presley hasn’t stopped talking about you since he checked in. Let me get you some information about the process and the facility, and then I’ll take you back to him.”

The receptionist hands you brochure after brochure and then points toward some legal and financial information for the treatments Elvis might need. You try to take it all one step at a time and make mental notes of everything you’re hearing, but your excitement makes it quite hard to do. When she’s finally done with her spiel, she steps out from behind the counter and gestures for you to follow her. You throw a quick smile at Jerry before following the receptionist back into a special wing for celebrities.

“He’s right in there,” she says, gesturing to a room. “He’s completely exhausted, so he might be asleep. I would recommend just making sure that you’re careful so you don’t alarm him.”

With that, she leaves you alone in the quiet hallway. You take a deep breath, or three, and clutch onto the bag before gently knocking on the door. When you get no response, you gently push it open.

“Elvis, honey?” you ask quietly as you step into the room. He looks up from his place in the bed. His hair is mussed and eyes sleepy as he lies propped up against a pillow in his pajamas. Your eyes immediately fall to the book in his hands, and you smile. He’s always loved to read.

“Y/N,” he says and a smile spreads across his sunken features. “I’m so glad ya made it.”

“Of course,” you say with a small chuckle. “I’m glad you made it, too. I brought the stuff you asked for.”

You come closer to hand over the bag so he can go through it. He takes it from you as you sit down in the chair by the side of the bed. He unzips the bag and begins to sort through it, a soft smile resting on his face. He looks like he’s already been sleeping for days, and you feel emotion rising in your throat to choke you. You gulp it away.

“So, how is it here so far?”

He nods.

“Not so bad. They treat me pretty good. If I want anything, all I gotta do is ring this lil button ‘ere and those nurses come a’runnin.”

“Well, I’m sure they do. You’re no less handsome today than you were twenty years ago.”

“Thank you,” he glances up at you, and you can see the tears glistening in his blue eyes. “Ya know the doctor told me that if I’d kept goin like I was, I woulda died in less ‘en a year. Less than one year, Y/N. You saved my life. I don’t know how to thank ya…I don’t know what else I can say...”

He rubs your skin with his fingers, gulping and clenching his jaw. But whatever he does, it’s not enough to stop the tears that start to slowly stream down his cheeks. You reach out to brush them away.

“You don’t need to say anything else. I’m just so happy that you decided to come here. You’ve repayed me by making that decision. That’s all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Elvis. These people are gonna help you, and…maybe things can go back to the way they were before. One step at a time, but, I’m feeling very optimistic.”

“I just wanna be there for Lisa,” he replies. “I don’t wanna be layin dead on the ground. I wanna be there to see her grow up, ride a horse for the first time, learn how to drive, how to strum the guitar.”

“To protect her from boys” you chime in, and he laughs with a nod.

“I never stopped lovin ya neither, Y/N. I never will, baby. You’re the one for me, you always have been,” he reaches out to cup your cheek, and you lean into that touch that you hadn’t felt in so, so long. “Imma get better. For you and Lisa both.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

~ three months later ~

You anxiously pull at the fabric of Lisa’s blue jean overalls as she sways back and forth next to you, clutching her Barbie doll by the hair. You glance down at her and smile before the glint of the sun’s reflection catches your attention. Your eyes follow the big black Cadillac as it drives slowly up the driveway and rolls to a stop where you and Lisa standing in front of Graceland.

You lean down and whisper to Lisa, “There’s daddy!”

The door opens and out steps the love of your life, the way you want to remember him. Maybe a bit older and ceratinly beefier, but he’s the man you’ve always known again. He looks amazing. So healthy and genuinely happy. He’s lost a ton of weight and looks more physically fit than he’s been for years. His sideburns are gone and hair is cut shorter, back like it used to be in the 50s and 60s. He looks not a shred tired, but tan and sun-kissed. And he’s wearing a flattering white sweater and jeans.

You feel the urge to move right to him, to touch him, kiss him, whatever you can. But you’re too worried to move. You don’t know the protocol for this sort of thing and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Instead, you just grip Lisa by the shoulders and smile encouragingly at Elvis. Once he makes eye contact with you, he shares your smile, his cheeks curling up into sweet dimples. He takes a step forwrard to kneel in front of Lisa.

“Hi my baby,” he says, holding his arms out for her to run into. She hugs him tightly with her doll, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head. He releases her and she runs toward Vernon, who has gotten out of the car as well. Elvis stands tall in front of you.

“Hi darlin,” he winks, and you smile, taking that as an invitation to throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him into you. His hand winds around the back of your head, holding you to him. He smells good, just like his old self.

“How do I look?” he asks with a toothy grin.

“Like my husband,” you say, pulling back and placing your hands on either side of his face. “I’m so proud of you, honey. You’ve done so well.”

His fingers travel to your wrists, stroking your skin with his thumb.

“I could never have done it without ya help. D’ya think maybe, we could try again? And I’ll do better this time. I swear it.”

He gestures between you, and you nod as he wipes a tear from under your eye with the side of his finger. You raise yourself up onto your tiptoes and kiss him like you had the very first time.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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#elvis #elvis 2022 #milasthings #milaselviscontent #milasfics #milaselvisfics #elvis imagine #elvis fic

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irenic-raccoon · 5 months

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My first proper attempt at writing a genuine fanfic instead of the joke fics I've written in the past. Idk what the title is and I'm definitely not that great of a writer so there might be typos or grammar mistakes so ermmmmm go easy on me.

It's Vyvyan x Neil. There's only one fic of these two and I gotta stick up for the less popular ships bc that's just how I am.

________________________________

Yelling, violence, and filth. An average day in the life of The Young Ones. Mike sat at the kitchen table, casually reading the daily newspaper. Vyvyan and Rick bickered about some bullocks next to the telly. And then there was poor ol' Neil. Neil, Neil, orange peel, standing there sulking and making the tea, since he practically did everything around here. All of the cleaning and all of the cooking. He was practically a 1950s house wife!

Vyvyan and Rick's banter turned violent, per usual, as the spikey haired ginger began throwing punches. He then grabbed the nearest object to whack the spotty bastard with. His weapon of choice just so happened to be Neil's rustic acoustic guitar. Before Neil was threatened to make the god-awful lentil tea they consumed every day, he was sat by the couch, playing a crappy tune. The sound of Vyvyan bashing Rick's head in with the already busted up guitar filled the room. Damn thing can barely play a note as it was poorly put back together with cheap ducktape, done by Neil himself in a futile effort to repair it. The guitar practically crumpled in his arms everytime he played a note. It's not like he'd be able to get new one anyways. None of them could even afford to use clean water. Hope you're happy, Thatcher!

The gloomy hippie turned his head at the sight, wearing his trademark frown. "Awh man, that's really heavy, Vyv. I've been, like, making a concept album for about two months now, and I was finally coming around to one of the songs. Not like any of you care, since you all hate me so much-" He was cut off with a shared "SHUT UP, NEIL!" From both the punk and the poet. Mike just nodded, agreeing with the statement as he continued to read his paper, wearing his sunglasses indoors. Neil sighed heavily as he began pouring the lentil nightmare that they considered "tea". He'd have to tape up his guitar some more, if there's even any tape left, that is.

Neil served them the lentil slop before getting assaulted with whatever item Vyvyan chose to use, then he sulked up the stairs to his bedroom, dragging the broken guitar behind him. As Vyvyan saw him do so, a peculiar thought came to to his mind, "I could fix that easily." It's true, he could, but he didn't want to be nice, especially to Neil of all people! On the other hand, Vyvyan was extremely bored. Even the violence was getting somewhat tedious. Not like he'd stop anytime soon, but Vyvyan hasn't partook in any of his actual hobbies in a long while. Like combining random chemicals to make some sort of "medical breakthrough", only for it to end up being explosive. Or tinkering his beloved car. Hell, Vyvyan even played guitar as well, he just wasn't able to play since he broke his beyond repair. In comparison, Neil's guitar would be a breeze.

Vyvyan decided that he was going to snag that guitar from Neil real quick and get working at it in the toolshed... Not like that, you pervy! He was definitely not doing it to be nice to Neil. Of course not! It's not like he held some sort of miniscule soft spot for him. He also didn't deep-down admire how much Neil did for them all, even if he moped about it constantly. Vyvyan ESPECIALLY did not like how Neil looked in that dress that apparently belonged to Rick. Nope, that image definitely didn't come to mind every once in a while when he's having a good wa- *BANG!*

Loud construction noises came from the dinghy tool shed Vyvyan put up months ago. Okay, he wasn't the best handy man. Bugger off, he's doing his best!

"Vyayan." Rick called out, standing outside said tool shed, hands on his hips, ready to yell at him for whatever he did this time. Vyvyan ignored him.

"Vyvyan!" He called out louder. Vyvyan ignored him again.

"VYVYA-" Rick screamed before the door cracked open, only for Vyvyan to hit him over the head with a hammer. That'll shut him up for a bit. He needed to concentrate, for once. He actually wanted to make sure he did a good job on fixing Neil's guitar.

When any of the housemates came along to ask what he was doing in there, he'd respond with something outlandish like "A time machine to prevent Rick from being born". Mike only asked once before going about his own business. Rick tried to be nosy, but it'd only come back to hit him over the head. Literally. It didn't take long for Rick to get a headache and a shiner from it all. Neil didn't bother to ask, likely based off the results from Rick. Instead, he only came by the tool shed to ask for the watering can, in which Vyvyan tossed at him from inside the shed. It nearly hit him but instead it hit the ground next to him. He thought it was strange, but Neil didn't feel like getting a shovel to the groin like Rick, so he just went about his gardening, even if his plants are past their death. They were so shriveled up and dark you couldn't make out what he even planted in the first place.

Vyvyan would take breaks throughout the day, causing the usual chaos around the house, but he made sure to return to the toolshed to finish up that guitar. He did this for the past two days until he was finished. He honestly felt proud with his handy work here, even if it didn't look the best. A few dents and scratches were permanent on its body, but it was a major improvement overall. Vyvyan decided to test it out, tuning the strings by ear and playing an a simple A chord. Bloody brilliant! He was lucky that his uncle Eddie taught him a thing or two about tools, even if he was a total tool himself. He was pretty sure him and Rick's uncle were going out. He cringed at that thought. Rick's uncle was as much of a pratt as Rick himself was. Must be genetic, similar to how alcoholism runs in Vyv's family tree.

It was dark out and Neil was still awake in his room, insomia keeping him up as he painted out his astrological chart. Some of that hippie bullocks he likes. He heard foot steps outside the door, but paid no attention to it, that's until he heard the door crack open. As soon the tall brunette turned his attention to the door, it was shut immediately, leaving only his guitar leaning against the wall. Neil's eyebrows raised, perplexed. It was like his guitar came back from the dead. Was he being haunted by the ghost of his guitar? He didn't even think that they had souls. He slowly made his way to the door, looking to see if anyone was out there. No one was in the hallway, but in the corner of his eye he saw Vyvyan peeking his head out his door like a meerkat, before quickly closing the door behind him. Suddenly, Neil felt like his stomach was full of butterflies... That might just be the lentils acting up again. Time to continue that song on the toilet, hopefully without being hassled this time.

#i tried to make it somewhat humorous bc the young ones is a comedy after all yadda yadda #its vaugely punkpye but its there #idk if i should post it on AO3 or not so im just posting it here for now #the young ones #tyo #vyvyan basterd #neil pye #rick pratt #mike the cool person #rik mayall #ade edmondson #nigel planer #punkpye #hope yall like thr references to Neils heavy concept album hehe #and the richie and eddie mention #i tried to keep them in character hope i succeeded

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bpbuilders2nds · 1 year

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bpbuilders1st · 1 year

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Roof Replacement CT

There is an acute shortage of reputable custom home builders in Connecticut, and the Greater Hartford region is particularly affected. The fact that BP Builders has survived the economic slump is largely due to the company's optimistic attitude. One of your ancestors might have been a prosperous merchant or banker. In theory, this might inspire some individuals to change for the better. When we originally opened our doors in 1992, we were one of many roofing companies in the area. New forms of collaboration have evolved as a result of the widespread availability of the Internet. Each Party must maintain in full validity and effect throughout the Term any required licenses and insurance (5 years). Every client deserves to receive the best service from us, and that has always been our guiding principle. Roof Replacement CT You can be sure that you will be the first person we consult for advice if we ever find ourselves in a situation where we need assistance coming up with a plan to pay off our debt. You can be sure that your home will be treated with the highest care and concern if you choose us. If you have any questions, concerns, or requests regarding the service, don't be afraid to contact us. Call a professional as soon as possible if your roof is drooping or dripping. BP Builders provides a wide range of other services to the construction and restoration industries in addition to roofing. The task of removing the old roof and replacing it has started. If there are any issues with your roof (such as leaks or missing tiles), do let us know so that we can fix them. Give CertainTeed shingles considerable thought if you require a new roof. Checking for typos and other grammatical and spelling errors can make your writing easier to read and more understandable. Maybe it's because I don't have as refined of taste as you do. It's a significant problem when people can't speak their minds without worrying about what other people may think. Our state-of-the-art sunglasses have insect-proof lenses. Even the most fearless among us have cause to worry. The room for error is virtually nonexistent. If you are unhappy with the outcomes, BP Builders is not bound to keep working with you. There won't be any further fees for upgrades, enhancements, or bug fixes for current users (such bug fixes or new features). Even though the results are encouraging, further study is required before human trials can start. SureTeed shingles are the industry standard for good reason in the roofing industry. Please give us a call if your roof is leaking and you need immediate assistance. Roofing, flashing, and outdated or damaged ventilation components should all be replaced (every 10 years or so). You can trust BP Builders to do a good job. Maybe all it takes to reach where you want to go is to be a nice person. Investors are shielded against transient market changes by spreading out the sale of shares over a longer time frame. There is no need to seek elsewhere if you need a building firm; just choose BP Builders.

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bpbuilders1a · 1 year

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Roof Replacement CT

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rooferct · 1 year

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Roofer CT

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BP Builders is the best choice for any building project, no matter where in the United States of America it is. As a result, we are on high alert for any impending threats. The roof needs immediate repair. Creating cures for every ailment afflicting humanity is our top priority. People generally have a low opinion of their own intelligence. Questions? Use the form on the right or call us at (860) 625-8717 if you need to get in touch. Please respond as soon as you can if you're still keen in carrying on our discussion.

This knowledge is essential for the development of effective preventative drugs.

Thankfully, the explosion only severely damaged or destroyed a small portion of my personal property. We are the industry leaders because of the dedication of our clientele. If you have any more inquiries or concerns about your claim, please do not hesitate to contact us. If you stick to this plan, you can reach your destination far more quickly and with much less effort. To achieve an early retirement, you must begin saving and investing as soon as feasible. BP Builders will be there for you from the initial site assessment and cost estimate to the final walk-through of the finished project. As far as I can tell, this information is readily available to anyone who needs it. Consultation with a medical professional usually yields the greatest results. Research from reliable sources is the best approach to estimate repair costs. I was hoping to get some advice from you if that's not too much to ask. I wanted to check with you to see whether it was possible to hire one of your conference rooms. You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like to discuss the issues we've been facing. If you send out a distress signal in the morning, it has a better chance of being picked up.

Our expectation is for much shorter wait times.

With proper maintenance, the luster of this pricey coating may be kept for years to come. If necessary, please mow the lawn before we come. The use of magnets has been found in a number of trials to hasten recovery. Preparation is the single most important factor in determining the effectiveness of plant care and seed planting. It was obvious they cared deeply about one another.

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arcadegai · 2 years

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hello and welcome to the gender arcade! here at arcadegai; i will be coining or otherwise interacting with exclusively arcade related terms! masterpost is in the works! flag in icon is gendercraned; header is just hue-shifted instabugs; character in icon is instabug from bugsnax but with sunglasses on! doesn't have anything to do with arcades; i just think they're neat. the one behind this account uses dae/🎨 pronouns! i also run @pronoungender and @heedthesirenscall! tagging system under the cut

tagging system! any comments i may have are first and foremost. often just "fixed a typo/reworked a sentence" and then followed by a semi-colon. the genders name, and any themes (eg: arcade carpet, arcade game, the games specific name, etc.) it may have. currently tag; arcades, arcade cabinet, arcade carpet, arcadecore, pinball, skeeball, beat-em-up any other themes. sensitive topics are sorted via trigger tag; while others are tagged normally. is tagged broadly on purpose and quite straight-forward. currently tag; gore, death, eyestrain ("_ cw" is my pattern)

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foxssie · 5 years

Photo

Sumer glasses dilemma june 2019

conclusion:

#choose your fighter #fox #glasses #summer problems #sunglasses #comic #cartoon #art #mine #i wear sunglasses over my prescription ones... peak fashion my lads #*it's head hurts sorry too lazy to fix the typo

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saintslewis · 9 months

Text

❝ Infrunami ❞ • LN4

pairing: lando norris x black fem! driver reader

summary: in which it’s enemies to lovers at first but lando finds his feelings and quick.

warnings: cursing, arguments, pettiness, descriptions of a crash, typos.

taglist: @thisismeracing @goldsainz @planete777

saint's team radio: this is from a lovely request right here and i do hope it lives up to your expectations! i loved writing this and i hope you enjoy it 💗

a bit of social media.

Bahrain. The first race of the season and most importantly, your first race in McLaren. The sweat at the back of your head was threatening to fall as the sun blasted on everyone who wasn't underneath shade. Walking through the official paddock entrance, you looked through your tinted sunglasses to see many people ranging from media, fans, teams, family and more. As soon as your orange and dark green Nike dunk lows touched the ground, cameras rushed in front of you and random words were thrown at you but you knew you had to focus on one thing and that was to get to the McLaren motor home.

"This is going to happen every time you step foot into a grid entrance around the world and don't take anything they say seriously, especially right now since it's your first race in F1." The voice of your media person, Leah, said in your ear. You held your purse handle more tightly as you continued walking. Fame was destined when you entered this sport but gosh, was it overwhelming with all the fans and criticism about you. However, you knew that you would face this with your teammate by your side.

"What are those big cameras for?" You asked Leah, noticing the enormous cameras in front of you and to the side. "Netflix." She simply said and you decided to smile and wave to both cameras, already establishing the kind of personality you would portray to the media and the rest of the world.

"Y/n!" McLaren's team principal and your new boss, Zak Brown, exclaimed happily as you walked into your team's motor home and the entrance was decorated with welcome signs, flowers and all types of snacks for everyone to enjoy. Your eyes wandered around the room and you greeted the team that was present but you could feel someone sending daggers through your back. You turned around only to see your new teammate, Lando and his face said everything you needed to know that he was clearly unhappy with your arrival. As you made eye contact, he walked out of the room and went upstairs with his arms crossed and the meanest scowl on his face.

"Hey n/n, you've got a few things you need to film with Lando before going on the track with Lissie later on. And fix your face, your dislike for each other is showing." Your best friend and assistant, Renee, looked at you and smiled at the eye roll you sent her. "We don't dislike each other, just don't look at me funny and we're cool." You said as you clutched the handle of your purse once again and made your way upstairs.

"And that's it. Thank you guys!" The producer for McLaren's youtube channel called out to you and Lando. You hated the whole experience because you had to pretend that you could even be in the same room together. Anyone could tell that he was only giving you the cold shoulder and that struck a nerve because you truly wanted to bond and possibly be friends with him but that all ended when he looked into your eyes this morning.

"Hey Lan-" Before you could even finish your sentence, he got up from the swivel chair and walked away once again, making you sigh. Coming up to you was his media personnel, Charlotte with a sorrowful look with her hands fiddling. "I'm so sorry, he's never usually like that. I'll try talk to him." She apologised on his behalf. You could just feel the pitiful looks some of the media staff gave you because obviously the room was still full of people.

"It's cool. Just tell him to get his shit together for the anthem." Your tone had completely changed from hurt to trying to push your anger away. Charlotte clearly noticed the difference too as she dismissed herself from the conversation and went in the direction that Lando went in. Turning around, you faced your assistant with a smile that showed that you wanted to get the fuck out of the room and get on with your other activities.

The crowd was quite loud as you heard them from the garage as they would chant their favourite driver's name. You placed your AirPods in and wiped your nose a little, avoiding your nose piercings. The fireproofs were extremely comfortable as you walked to where the rest of the drivers were getting ready to be welcomed to Bahrain with their national anthem. Standing in between Lando and Charles, anyone could tell that you would much rather interact with him than your teammate and you knew shit like this would get you in trouble but until the unnecessary attitude leaves, you would continue giving him the same energy.

"It's light out and away we go!"

"Y/n L/n has created history as the first female formula 1 driver to have a podium in her first race in McLaren, congratulations!"

Australia

"You've been on a roll, Y/n. Teach me your ways!" Daniel exclaimed as you, Alex, Charles and him had huddled in front of the McLaren motor home. It was pretty hot out as you all wore sunglasses to shield the suns rays from your eyes. "I know this'll sound bad but I just think about whatever's waiting for me after the race while thinking of hype songs while driving." You shrugged your shoulders after what you said.

"Essentially like you're in a movie?" Charles chuckled. "That exactly what it is, Charlie." You smiled and carried on the conversation with more jokes. From wherever you are, you could always feel someone staring at you. Looking up, you saw Lando standing by the large window looking down at your little group, feeling his breathing becoming quicker the longer he stared. The two of you had kept the little staring contest on until someone had startled him.

"Mate, I've been calling your name for at least two minutes now." Oscar's voice eventually reaching his ears after a moment. "First, she's basically the favourite after Bahrain and Saudi now my boys ditched me to hang out with her? What the fuck?" Lando immediately complained as he let go of the railing to face the McLaren reserve driver who looked at him with complete disbelief. "You don't like Y/n?" Oscar questioned while taking a bite of the cookie in his hand.

"Well isn't it obvious, mate? It's this weird look she gives me every time and the cold shoulder and- where did you get that cookie from?" Lando began but cut off his own rant to look at the mouth watering sugar cookie in his friends hand. "You won't like the answer." Oscar said, taking another bite, careful to not spill any crumbs on the ground.

He groaned out loud when he eventually realised that you made the cookies and clearly everyone received them besides him as he saw most of the drivers eating them throughout the afternoon. "I'll see you later, mate." He said, patting Oscar on the shoulder before making his way to his driver room, avoiding any signs of Charlotte yelling to go change. As he stepped in, he smelled a sweet scent and turned around to see a paper towel with two McLaren themed sugar cookies on it with a note next to them. His heart softened as he went closer to the cookies. He picked up the note and quickly placed it down with a bit of a smile on his face.

You're still a bitch but I make great cookies so eat them. hope you fall on your ass,

y/n.

yourusername

yourusername: lil backstory for y’all 🤭 1: it’s just me looking cute as always. 2: meet Bella and offset, random seating arrangement or was it? 🤨 3: LEWIS TOOK ME TO GO SEE QUEEN BEY AND TAYLOR OMGGGGGGG 4: mood 5: the bracelets for everyone 😚 6: Charles was taking a picture of my outfit 🧍🏽‍♀️

tagged: bellahadid, offsetryn, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc

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user i literally love you

taylorswift13 it was amazing meeting you! 🩷🩷

yourusername you too! (screaming, crying, throwing up rn)

bellahadid madam President 🫡

yourusername leave the motorcade story ALONE anyways, sleepover?

lilymhe still don’t wanna talk to you but you’re gorgeous or wtv 🙄

yourusername i’m sorry i threw the club so far away ☹️

lewishamilton we still have paris fashion week

yourusername superstar shit or something 🤭

user aren’t y’all supposed to be driving all the time???

yourusername we are, we just need to be rockstars rn

user THE BRACELETSSSSSSSSS

user she’s a swiftie??? i love her even more 🥹

user why isn’t she interacting with Lando tho??

user that’s none of our business

Miami

A not so pleasant qualifying for either of you even though you placed P2 while he placed P15. He was your worst enemy throughout the session as you would fight through all the corners and curves. As much as you brought the drama to the race, you were livid.

You couldn't even pretend to enjoy such a historic achievement because you were walking awfully fast to the McLaren garage, ignoring the voices of the officials and your team as you couldn't spot him in the garage so you walked to the upstairs section where your drivers rooms were. Finding him and his friend, Max Fewtrell, leaning on a counter drinking water, unaware that the session had ended. "What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Norris?" You said as you entered the room, not even worried about the camera crew following you. Max being a good friend to Lando and acquaintance to you, he forced everyone out of the room to not escalate the situation further.

"What's wrong with me?! Do you not know how to drive?" He asked, pointing at himself and controlling his voice to avoid his voice cracking. Sighing out, you had to choose your words carefully. "I'm quite good at driving. look at the previous races. You don't fucking drive that tractor like it's a construction site." You spoke, not breaking eye contact with the boy.

"Bullshit! Your driving put me in P15! You could've crashed me into the wall." He began raising his voice a little but that was to piss you off even more. "Lower your tone, Norris. You know goddamn well that the wall was far away and you didn't want to move when you were asked to. What is your issue?" You scowled. The longer you spent in the room with him, the worse your insults were going to get.

"What's my issue? What's my issue, y/n?!" Lando began chuckling as he asked his questions, his face turning the slightest of red. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "I don't have the time for your shit. Do your job better tomorrow." You said with such venom in your words and turned to walk out of the room, seeing cameramen pressed against the door to any bit of your argument for content. Walking through the small group of them, you made your way to your drivers room to cool down.

Monaco

Thursday, Media Day

The conference room wasn't as warm as it was outside. The oversized McLaren themed football jersey was incredibly comfortable and your lv trainers perfectly matched the chilled look you had going on. Sitting as comfortably as you could on the white couch, your teammate next to you was fidgeting around and was avoiding any type of communication with you.

In your head, you cursed him for looking so handsome with his facial hair that he has been trying to grow for some time now. The all white outfit was something you did not expect from him but gosh, did you love it. What derailed you from having a wandering eye on Lando was the argument you two shared nearly three weeks before Monaco. That would immediately change your mind on how you thought of him.

Lando, on the other hand, had to force himself to not stare at you. You were practically glowing next to him, your jewels shining brightly and your perfume scent was enough for him to think of you everytime something sweet lingered around. He would never admit it to himself that he took a liking to you but the more he complained to his friends, the more they were convinced he liked you.

"Hi, I'm Madison from FemmeFormula. This is more of a personal question for you, Y/n. The friendship bracelets have been doing the rounds on the socials by the way, thank you for my one. What really inspired you to make them?" She asked, visibly happy to ask you since the interaction you shared this morning from the morning.

"Hi Madison! Uh, recently went to The Eras Tour and then a few swifties gave me bracelets and I wanted to make my own to give my fellow drivers." You answered with a smile on your face, lifting your wrist to look at the custom bracelet you made yourself.

"And where's yours Lando? Surely it got lost in the mail." You smirked, knowing you were slowly getting on his nerves because the smile seemed innocent to the journalists but he exactly what you meant.

"I'd like to hope it's even in the mail." He have a fake smile, earning a few laughs and trying to not show any other emotion than whatever it is he has going on.

Another journalist stood up and introduced himself to you two. "Harrison here from ESPN. This one is for Y/n again. Would you consider yourself the number 1 driver for McLaren and would you ever let Lando through since you're bringing home the wins? He hasn't been as consistent as-"

"Okay Harrison, I'll stop you there," You sat upright for this one. "Lando has been here longer than I have and I absolutely respect him for being such an amazing driver. Yes, our team relationship hasn't looked the best the past couple of weeks but that's sportsmanship. Now, if you'll all excuse us, we have a Grand Prix to tend to." You finished, placing the mic on the couch and stood up, fixing your shorts and extended your hand to Lando with him immediately taking it.

Hand in hand, you walked out of the conference room with cameramen and journalists hot on your toes until you made it to the secret entrance of the McLaren motor home.

"Um-"

"That was called sportsmanship, Norris. See you on track." You spat out, letting go of his large hand and walking to your drivers room, leaving the British boy stunned.

Spain

The orange romper was the perfect fit for the hot Spanish weather and you knew you looked good, showing off your glittering skin with the matching bucket hat. The sounds of Rosalia's 'Motomami' blasted through your AirPods as you waved at the crowds during the driver's parade and the gap between you and Lando was very noticeable but you couldn't care because you were there to win and spoil yourself afterwards.

"If you could stop pacing around, then you would stop our nerves too." Renee said, playing with a pen watching you become anxious all over again. The feeling in the pit of your stomach has been weird from the moment you woke up. Your stomach felt like it had been tied with a rope and the deep breaths practice weren't really helping at the moment.

"I mean think of it like this; nothing bad has happened since you woke up. It has been, dare i say, a perfect day. Whatever it is will pass quickly and you could be battling Max for the Championship." She smiled, trying her best to lighten your spirits but something was off and you couldn't put your finger on it.

"Not too much on the championship talk, that's gonna upset some people." You joked, eventually stopping in the middle of the room and adjusted your fireproofs one last time before heading out to the track.

Your sunglasses perched perfectly on your nose, the gum you were chewing still had all its flavour, your wig was layed so good that anyone could say 'lace where?', the setting spray on you working wonders because it didn't smudge the last race and your lipgloss was poppin. Physically, you looked like you had the whole world in the palm of your hand with your charm and confidence guiding you but gosh, you felt like you could cry any moment now.

Feeling a large hand on your shoulder, you saw the tattoos and immediately recognised the hand to be Lewis'. You two looked like partners in crime with the matching sunglasses and the same confident walk you both had as you walked towards your garages. "The teammate thing you two have will go away soon, y'know? If it doesn't, you always have a place in Mercedes." Lewis smiled wide with his last sentence, walking a little faster to his side of the garage.

You hoped it would go away soon but if the attitude is still there, then so be it.

"Mate, you have to talk to her at some point. I'm getting tired of leading your fan club." Daniel complained as he stood next to Lando, a few minutes before the start of the race. Lando snapped his head at Daniel. "I can't. Everytime we interact, we always fight." He rolled his eyes at the thought of it. He truly wanted it to end but if you wanted to continue it, then so be it.

"And who's fault was that? You didn't welcome her in properly, you didn't even show up for her welcome dinner. Most of the grid have done really cool stuff with her because they welcomed her in. She would come to me and say how much she wants to be anything with you at this point but just not fighting." Daniel expressed, looking around to make sure no one was hearing the conversation.

"Oh god, imagine how she feels..." Lando trailed off once he started thinking about most of your interactions. "How do I fix this?" He asked Daniel who truly wanted to laugh at his friend's desperation to make things right with you.

"You have to go race soon. But just know, she likes kpop, Beyoncé, the beach, Taylor Swift and Lewis Hamilton but I think the world knows that one. Have fun, mate!" Daniel began walking away with a smile and a wave to Lando who was stressing his life away.

Turn 15

It was staring at you as you inched closer and closer to it but you knew you couldn't make it past it even you tried. The car hadn't been your best friend today and it made sure to show the world that your winning streak was about to be broken.

Fighting off Perez and Sainz was incredibly hard and caused such damage to your tyres and brakes everytime you would oversteer. Carlos had eventually fallen behind you and Checo and you swore he had something out for you today. Approaching the turn, you felt your body turn cold when you felt Checo's rear end collided with your side and that sent you flying into the wall with a very hard impact, one that could make you pass out for a few minutes.

You kept your hands onto the steering wheel, shuffling your feet together to make sure that they were still moving and you moved your neck a little, immediately feeling a pain on the right side. "Are you okay? Y/n, please answer!" Your radio engineer stressed out, the silence falling upon the McLaren garage when you didn't answer immediately.

Your eyes were fighting to close, to just relax your body and wait for whatever help that was coming. You obviously had no idea how bad the crash was, how the crowd was silent whilst filming the scene, how much Lando was panicking once he heard.

The safety car was deployed once the yellow flag had been waved and both McLaren's were both on the side of the road with one driver makes his way to see the other, hoping to be given a chance to fix it. The paramedics were already attempting to remove you from the car, your body slumped a little but you did move your head, giving the world a sign that were okay.

He rushed to your side to hold your helmet as they took it off your head, your makeup truly not smudging. The paramedics had let you sit in the ambulance whilst they had gotten ready to take you to the track clinic. Looking up, you see him look at you with such concern.

"Is the safety car out? Cause it'll help Hamilton-"

"Y/n." He deadpanned.

"I'm okay, Norris. Go finish the race for me and you both. Don't make the both of us out of the race." You weakly smiled, feeling the pain on your side hit you as you moved a little. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. For everything. I want to make things right with you after this." Lando's eyes said everything you had been wanting ever since this weird situation began.

You leaned in to hug him and he was surprised, returning the hug with much more energy than you expected. You lifted your race sleeve to show two bracelets and you slipped one onto his wrist, watching him look at hit with curiosity. "I kept yours with me." You winked at the flabbergasted man who's cheeks were slowly turning red.

"Now seriously, go finish the race." You shooed him out of the ambulance and watched your new companion run to his car immediately get back into the race with one thing on his mind and that was you.

yourusername

yourusername: LIFE UPDATEEEEEEE ‼️ 1-3: LANDO TOOK ME TO GO SEE BEYONCÉ AGAIN AND SHE WAVED AT ME AND SAID MY NAME AND I LOOKED GOOD AHH.

4-6: LANDO ONCE AGAIN TOOK ME TO SEE SEVENTEEN AND TWICE OMG I LOVE THIS MAN PLS

5: just me looking cute as always 🫦

6: my sister made this hat for me 🥹

7: look at this cutie patootie (but extremely sassy!)

tagged: landonorris

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landonorris practicing choreo was HELL but I loved it

user where did you find this one?????

yourusername f1 🧍🏽‍♀️

sza the first outfit my GOD

yourusername 🤭

beyonce so glad to see you again 🩷

yourusername it was lovely seeing you

landonorris she’s actually running around screaming

yourusername you can’t say this about me on Beyoncé’s internet

mclarenf1 the papaya fit 😋

yourusername can’t leave my duties as the papaya princess 😣

user ik this is late but the fact she can easily beat max is so impressive to me and i love it

yourusername it’s my favourite thing ever

maxverstappen1 yeah yeah 🙄

user OOMF THEY BOTH REPLIED TO YOUBEISNEISJS

Fin.

#formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x reader #x black reader #f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x black reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #fanfic #☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen #saintwrites #Spotify

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vapolis · 3 years

Text

it's small update time once again! as always thanks to everyone taking the time out of their day to report any bugs and odd coding mistakes you've found <3 you guys made it easy to (hopefully) fix everything!

due to some choices, especially the prosthetics choice I'd advise ppl to either replay it now or before the new chapter drops as some choices will change fight scenes from now on!

this update includes:

a merciful approach to the janitor route since there was only a ruthless option before

a height, hair style as well as colour and prosthetics choice at the beginning of the game

royals hair has been changed

some flavour text, depending on height and other choices have been added

general coding errors, especially with the sunglasses have been fixed

some more typos i spotted were removed

word count goes from 66k words up to 68k without code!! roughly 2k words were added

work on the new chapter has been started and it should be released sometime in september!!

UPDATED DEMO

#m.txt #remember you will die #progress update #rywd #small update #no need to replay now but just letting yall know that some things have been changed <3

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prettyterribleimagines · 2 years

Text

Hey everyone! Been a long while, huh?

Well, thanks to getting back on tumblr after I more or less got my heads pace back together, I believe I am ready to start writing again.

For those who only want to know where they can get kinky and judgement free HCs, Imagines and short fics again, I will put it shortly.

This blog will become 100% (inactive beside some reblogs of new stuff) since I will change to a new blog (yet to be created). I will try to post with more quality, but I will also stop doing any request I receive, since I want to be proud of the things I make for you guys. Every post here right now will stay here. But that's about it. I will use some of the requests that are here in my inbox when I start the new blog, but im also accepting new requests as long as you nickname yourself, so I can recognize you more easily when writing for you.

I will probably leave this blog, numbers are not that important to me anymore, I just want to continue meeting kinky people like me to chat with ^^ so I will create a new main blog, one where I can interact more with others with likes, reblogs and comments. Another reason for the blog change is the fact that I'm no longer proud of most things here, specially the old stuff, but instead of deleting it all I will just try to start again. So, when the new blog drops, please send me requests that I have already done before so I can try to make it longer and fix the old typos.

That is not to say "I'm better at english", I just want to put more care and love into my answers, in my opinion, I feel quite ashamed of making a post with 2 or 3 lines of Headcanons. That is all to say, requests won't be a daily thing like when the blog started, but you won't have to wait 2 months for a small post either. I will still make lots of mistakes since I'm not a native English speaker, but this time around I will try to go over my writings every often to make sure I didn't write anything that won't be... nice on the eyes at least.

I'm rambling a lot, but we are almost done so just a little more and we are done. Considering the fact I will invest more time and energy in every request, I will now be more selective about what requests I do. That's not to say I won't do "X kink" or "Y scenario", I will still keep things really ample. But from now on I will only write if I read the ask and it makes me want to write, because quite honestly, most requests I got were 3 to 4 words and that was quite... disheartening.

So, that's about it, I tried writing everything in one go as to not get emotional, so sorry for any mistakes. I know it's weird to make a post about wanting to take time with things and put more effort in, but yeah, writing this was hard as is.

As always, I will be super happy if you guys come with me to this new blog, even if you never came out of anon I will let you know I will probably recognize you. At one point you start realizing which anon likes what and how they write lol.

If you want to talk, message me here.

I will be saving some requests from here since I don't know when I will start getting requests again. So, feel free to send in a request! But please, it isn't a rule here on this blog, but give yourself a nickname so I know who is who. And yeah, that will be a rule on the next blog, anons will have to give themselves a nickname when requesting since I want to know who I am writing for. Doesn't need to give away who you are, just to put a face behind those sunglasses.

That's about it, Lime out!

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tipsydipsydo · 4 years

Text

Poolside Kisses 🍹[M]

Pairing: Jimin x chubby! poc! Reader

Gender of the reader: female

Word Count: 5.6k

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Warnings: mentions of insecurities; Jiminie and his jealousy (but at the end of the fic they're talking about that); Jiminie is horny as fuck; swearing; petnames; filthy language + filthy dirty talk; praising; body-worship; teasing; edging; begging; marking; thigh-riding and thigh-fucking(?); a little bit dom-/sub-themes; a bit of spanking and pussy exhibitionism; semi-public sex (can you count fucking in your friend's house as semi-public sex?); creampie; unprotected sex (stay safe please!); mentions of aftercare

A/N: Finally, I wrote something for chubby! Readers and for poc! Reader as well. The moodboard was ready for weeks but the fic wasn't... And now it got longer than expected!

The texting with my dear @h0esvck inspired me again to write this fic here, after we talked about cute and sexy bikinis for chubby girls and how the boys could react to these swimsuits! (I really love that bikini in the moodboard💕)

Summary: Jimin said, you should pack a swimsuit into your suitcase when you're going to visit him in Korea. You thought, you'll go bathing somewhere privately, maybe just with the boys or so... and not going to a pool party of one of Jimin's Idol friends where you'll not know anybody! Since then you hate yourself that you only brought your new bikini to Korea that reveals more of your bare skin that you're used to...

Note: It's proofread but I'm sorry when there are still some typos

Links:

My Imagines for your requests

My official Masterlist

And as always, everyone can read the fic who's interested in it 🤗💖 Enjoy!

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Since ten minutes you've been staring at the bikini that is spread out on the bed in front of you. You try to come to a solution for the problem that has been bothering you since this morning.

When Jimin said a week ago that you should pack swimwear for your visit in Korea, you already had been a little suspicious and unsettled.

But you couldn't imagine anything else than maybe going with him and the other members to a privately rented pool. Or maybe going to a beach with them, where nobody knows them anyway, so that they don't get too much unnecessary attention.

The boys already know and love you, so they don't care much about how you look like, as long as you're happy and make Jimin happy as well.

With these thoughts, you calmed yourself a little bit down and quickly drove your worries into the last corner of your mind.

That was also the reason why you were thinking about to try something new, instead of just wearing this boring black one-piece swimsuit that you've had for the last six years.

Maybe something cute, a nice two-pieced swimsuit, something like a bikini or so, that flatters your curves and just hugs them in all the right ways. Something that makes you feel sexy and attracts Jimin's attention a bit more than usual.

The thought alone how Jimin always strips you down with his eyes when you wear something close-fitting, which emphasizes your large chest, your round butt or your juicy thighs in the right ways...

...oh god, just the thought of it makes your knees weak and your panties getting wet.

But that's not the point, you have a lot of other problems right now.

At breakfast this morning, Jimin told you for what exactly you need your swimwear. And it's nothing like you thought before, a day at the beach or at the pool and only with the other guys, no.

The real reason is, that one of Jimin's Idol Friends has his birthday today and throw a poolparty in his villa.

That's not how you imagined it...

Of course you are happy that Jimin is not shy about introducing you to all his other friends in addition to the members and showing up with you in public places.

Nevertheless, you're aware that being chubby is not one of the "desirable" standards of the beauty ideals in Korea. Plus, you're a part of people that have a colored skin tone and all of you still have to face unfortunately prejudice and racism in all corners of the world.

That doesn't mean Koreans are racists or they are going to bodyshame someone, oh hell no! But... of course there are always such kinds of worries, like that you couldn't fulfill all the expectations of his friends, ARMYs or in general the whole publicity.

But that shouldn't be your goal either. Jimin loves you the way you are and everyone else should accept and respect you as his girlfriend and thus your relationship.

Nevertheless, a dull feeling spreads out in your stomach at the thought of having to wear this two-pieced bathing suit.

You really like it and you immeaditly fell in love with this bikini when you tried it on while the shopping trip with your friends. You think that it emphatize your curvy figure wonderfully, hides your fluffy belly in a great way and still shows more skin than you are used to.

And that's exactly the point.

You would show more skin than you're actually used to, so you'd walk completely out of your well known and loved comfort zone... and now even in front of strangers you don't know at all!

Everything in you is reluctant to wear this bikini to this party. You had also thought about going on a quick shopping tour into the town this morning. Hoping to find a one-piece swimsuit that can hide your belly a little better than this bikini. But you rejected the thought so fast like it had came into your mind.

You know Seoul far too little to know, where to find the plus size clothing stores. You know they exist! After all, you had been in these shops with Jimin on your recent visits, but you have absolutely no clue where to find them. So you quickly throw this idea into your mental trash can.

So you have no choice but to put on this swimsuit here.

You sigh and look at this two-pieced bathing suit in frustration again. Why the heck were you so stupid and didn't pack both swimsuits straight away in your suitcase, then you wouldn't have this problem now! But you have no other option than to wear it, you don't want to explain to Jimin that you don't want to come to the party because of your swimsuit. He was so happy this morning to finally be able to introduce you as his girlfriend to all his other friends.

You are about to put your dress on when Jimin knocks gently on your door, the door of the guest room (which you hardly really "need" because you sleep with him in his bed all nights anyway) and asks you through the door if you're ready.

You answer him with a hasty "Yes, just give me two more minutes!" and quickly stuff your towels, a pair of fresh underwear, sunblocker and other things that maybe could be useful, into your beach bag.

You slip with your bare, dark blue painted toenails into your sandals and before you walk out of the door, you quickly fix your sun hat and sunglasses as you walk past the large full-body mirror.

You are as ready as you can be when you're going to show yourself to strangers in a swimsuit that is more skin-revealing for your usual standards.

When you open the door and give Jimin, who is standing in the hall and is waiting for you, a small smile, a bright smile spreads on his lips.

His eyes wander slowly down at your body, you don't miss how he licks his lips, which leave you even little bit embarrassed.

But he also looks so damn good in this white t-shirt that he wears, under which you already can imagine his well-built abs, together with this black, low hanging shorts and a pair of black sneakers, made of thin fabric. His outfit is so casual, but at the same time it looks so elegant on him!

"Damn, baby... you look absolutely gorgeous! You look so fantastic, to be honest I don't want to show you the others in this amazing outfit... I bet with you, that they start gawking and drooling because you are so damn sexy. I really have to be careful not to get jealous and to behave decently, so that I don’t do all these dirty fantasies that I have with you in my mind in front of other people’s eyes... ", says Jimin in a half serious, half playful tone and with a meaningful look into your eyes.

"Jimin! Don't say such things, I thought we want to go to the party of your friend!", you reply with a slightly embarrassed smile and hit him with gentle force at his right arm. He's whining a little bit, rubbing the hurting spot after your punch.

"Yes, yes! But that doesn't mean you have to hit me right away!", Jimin whines as you walk down the hall of the dorm to the front door. Like the gentleman he is, he opens the door to the passenger seat of the car dir you and let you get in with a charming smile.

On the way to the party you chat around, laughs about God knows everything and sings together to the latest summer hits that comes out of the radio. Jimin with his angelic voice and then you with your voice, that reminds you more of a screaming cat than anything else. Your boyfriend admits that you still have to practice a bit on your singing talent, but he motivates you with every new song again to sing along with him. But your exuberant, lively mood gets an unwanted damper when you turn into a street and you can already see all the countless cars parked on the roadside from the distance.

Some, like you, just seem to have arrived only a few minutes ago. When you see all these other slim, long-legged beauties in their gorgeous summer dresses or already in their bikinis outfits with these fit bodies, you swallow hard and start chewing on your lower lip. Jimin doesn't miss that.

"Baby?"

"Hm?"

"You think too much, my love. Just look at yourself, you are beautiful! And show that too, show them all how damn attractive you are. They'll love you, I promise! And if anyone giving you a weird look, this person will get a serious problem with me! Okay Darling? I love you and everybody else should know too how much you mean to me... and don't let these silly thoughts in your pretty head up there ruin the evening, okay?"

You take a deep breath and finally nod to Jimin confidently.

He is right, you are probably thinking too negative again. You should also go to this party without the prejudice, that they already dislike you for whatever reason and just think positive and enjoy the day.

"Ready, Baby?"

"Yes, I'm ready."

With a cheeky wink in your direction, Jimin gets out of the car and is fast enough at your door to open it for you again.

You roll your eyes in annoyance, but you can't help but smile.

"Jimin, that's really cute of you, but you don't always have to do that. I'm a confident, independent woman, I'm able to open the door by myself too!", you complain but have to laugh at the end of the sentences.

"Then show them with exactly this body here, how confident you are, my dear lady~", Jimin replies with a husky wisper into your ear, which let a shiver run down your back. You are only able to nod at this moment, try not to be too flustered by Jimin's sex appeal. The same person is fully aware of his influence on you and laughs contentedly as you walk together to the front door.

When the doorbell rings, it is opened by other guests who tell you and use vague hand gestures to indicate where the person, who has birthday today and is the actual party host, could be. You two thanks them and slowly find your way down to the terrace, between all of the chatting, sometimes already dancing and celebrating peoples.

It seems like you'll don't know anyone, really nobody at this party. Sometimes you only recognize some K-Pop Idols here and some other K-Drama actors and actresses there, but you don't know anybody really personally, except of Jimin.

That's why you hold his hand even more tightly, afraid of losing him in the crowd. His thumb draw gentle circles over the back of your hand, he can feel how tense you are, try his best to calm you down.

You're going to be stopped on your actual way to Jimin's Friend by some other idols or international celebrities. You have a small talk with them and you'll be greeted every time with very much enthusiasm when Jimin introduces you as his girlfriend.

You don't really know how to deal with it, least of all with their detailed gaze your body. They don't say anything and their looks are not to be rated directly as negative one, much more in curious and interested way?

But before you can start to worry too much about it, the small talk is already over and Jimin continues to guide you through the crowd to the rightful host, who is in the huge garden behind the villa.

This person greets Jimin with a buddy slap on the shoulder and pulls you into a warm hug, which you had not expected at all. You automatically stiffen up, so that the same person lets you go immediately and apologizes hastily for his inappropriate behavior.

At the same time, you want to make it clear that he didn't do anything wrong and you were just a little surprised. Now you both look at each other in an awkward silence and that makes you twoa little embarrassed, which makes Jimin laugh.

"...and may I introduce to you, that is my girlfriend Y/N."

"H-Hey Y/N! Nice to meet you! Jimin has told me so much about you and every time that happens, I got more curious to finally meet you! And when he said, that you'll be in Seoul in the week when I planned to throw my birthday party, I asked him, to please bring you here, so that I can finally get to know you in person. And when you two just showed up with holding hands, I got carried away a bit. Sorry for my overexited hug. But to Jimin's credit I can already say, that he has an exellent taste for amazing girls, like you are.", he says and gives Jimin and you a playful wink.

At this moment, a waitress with wonderfully decorated cocktails on a tray comes past you and Jimin's friend stops this person with a small gesture to give you two a cocktail of your choice. You all thank the waitress before letting her continue her round through the crowd.

Now the host returns his attention to you again.

"I am really happy that you made it to my party and that you-" at that moment he's looking at you with a big smile "... and that you have also agreed to come here! I assume that unfortunately you don't know that many guests here yet. But I can assure you, nobody will bite you here. But if somebody chat you up or so, please inform me or to the security guards, okay? Some of my guests may starts acting like the last idiots when they're drunk, but I don't let them ruin my party." The way he looks at you completely seriously and at the same time gives you an encouraging smile shows you, that he really tries his best to make you feel comfortable here.

You talk for another ten minutes or so, Jimin's friend already makes you laugh here and there with some jokes, so that you pretty fast don't feel like the "new girlfriend of his buddy" anymore. It's his charm that calms you down and you relax more and more with it. You realize, that everything isn't as terrible as you thought it would be.

To your relief, you also realize that your horror imagination is not coming true. Nobody is gawking at you like you're an exotic animal in the zoo. Nobody behaves weird around you and you haven't noticed until now that anyone starts gossiping about you or your relationship with Jimin.

Only one thing seems to be important to everyone. A great atmosphere and thus an unforgettable evening.

You are so engrossed in the conversation that you wince in surprise when someone taps your shoulder gently. You turn around and there is a girl in front of you, already in a bikini and soaking wet. She seems to have come straight out of the pool to you.

"Hey! You're... Y/N, right? I just want to ask you if you would like to come into the pool and play water volleyball with us? We need one more female player for our team, we want to beat the boys!", she says and point into the direction of the pool, where the other players wave with their hands enthusiastically and want to encourage you to play along with them.

Nevertheless, you look back at Jimin, still a little bit uncertain. Your boyfriend gives you an encouraging kiss on the lips and says teasingly: "Don't look at me so questioningly, come along and show them your talent. You can give me your dress and bag."

Before you can decide against it, you quickly slip out of your sandals and pull your summer dress over your head. You already put the bikini on when you still was in the dorm.

The girl who asked you for the game enthusiastically claps her hands together and immediately grabs your wrist to lead you to the pool.

Only in the corner of your eyes you can see how Jimin's jaw drop at your sight and look at you in disbelief.

However, you don't have time to think about his reaction. You are barely in the water and on your official position when the game already starts.

To be honest, you never thought that this afternoon and evening could turn out to be so good and that you just could play with the other games so boisterously. That everyone just treats you as normal like you are and nobody cares how you look.

But you get the first doubts, that everything is not as good as you think, when you see Jimin on the poolside with a less happy expression on his face. You apologize to the others and tell them, that you have to go to your boyfriend for a minute.

"Jimin? Is everything alright? What happens?", you als him, eyebrows drawn together in alarm.

"Y/N, can you come out of the water, please? I need to talk to you," Jimin replies shortly, looking at you intently.

"O-Okay, of course."

When you're about to step out of the water, he already starts to unfold your bath towel. As soon as you get out of the pool, he has put it over your shoulders and gripped your wrist. Without saying a word, he starts moving and pulls you to the door of the terrace and goes back into the house with you. Everything looks like that Jimin wants to drive home from the party prematurely and hastily.

"Jimin? Now tell me, what happened that you seem to want to go home just... now?!", you finally ask him, finding his behavior really questionable.

Your boyfriend just mumbles something incomprehensible, looks around in the hallway until he sprints up the stairs to the first floor with you.

"Jimin, we just can't-"

But the last words of your sentence get stuck in your throat when Jimin seems to have found what he was looking for all the time. The guest room.

He briefly looks around again to make sure that no one has followed you and noticed something about your unauthorized solo-action. Then he grabs the doorknob and quickly pulls you into the room and closes the door behind you.

You just want to start protesting again and ask him for a plausible answer for his behavior. But then you're already being pushed against the door and Jimin's hungry lips are chasing yours.

The kiss is intense and greedy right at the beginning, Jimin's tongue is demanding, doesn't give you any time to understand what's going on.

"Baby, how dare you! These things I said to you when you came out of the guest room in this beautiful and sexy summer dress, I meant them absolutely seriously. How dare you, despite of my warning, to tease me so fucking much?! Then you don't have to be surprised that I can't hold back anymore. And besides that...", growls Jimin in a husky voice between two kisses in your ear.

"...I hate it how all the boys just looked at you all the time. They're speculating whether you were already in a relationship and how they could flirt with you... don't you understand that every guy down there wants you because you're so damn sexy?"

"Wait what, Jimin? I-I don't understand..." you stammer helplessly, your mind is already clouded by these breathtaking kisses Jimin gave you.

Jimin takes a deep breath, acting like he's trying to calm himself down.

"Your bikini, Babygirl. With this damn bikini you drive me crazy and wrap every guy around your little finger without even noticing. Seeing you in such an outfit is a real sin, Baby...", he whispers in your ear.

Let the tip of his nose slide down your neck, inhale your scent, which has such an aphrodisiac effect on him. His hands find their way from your chubby cheeks down to your plush hips and grabs them firmly.

"Fuck, you're so sexy... I love you and your body so damn much that it hurts... I mean... literally!", he growls and rubs his already rock hard erection on your thick thigh.

"You look so damn sexy in this swimsuit and pretend that you have no idea what effect you have on me... and unfortunately also on these other guys down there... it's a shame! I think, I should show you what kind of indecent thoughts you've put in my head with this body, only covered by this little bit of fabric.", comes it panting from Jimin's lips.

He lets the wet towel drop from your shoulders onto the floor and steps a bit away from you to admire your whole beauty to the fullest. A shiver of desire runs down your spine, causing that something, that is all too familiar to you, starts growing in your abdomen. You start to squirm under his intense gaze.

"I'm really wondering who can be responsible for designing such a cute and at the same time so sexy swimsuit. And fuck. It looks incredibly good on you! How can you always wrapping me around your little finger? Hm Baby? Explain it to me...", purrs Jimin dreamily as he lets his hands wander on your big, perfect round ass and grabs it hard.

A whimper leaves your lips whe you feel his mouth on your neck, spreading kisses and is eager to give you enough hickey that everyone will surely see them. Just knowing that he marking you as his, as his girlfriend, makes your pussy even wetter than it already is.

"Don't tell me you're jealous, Jiminie~", you say teasingly, but at the same time you start moaning with closed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. He positions his right leg between your juicy thighs, flexes his thick thigh muscle just at the right moment and rubs it over your clit. Mastering thigh-fucking in a standing position so fucking well should be prohibited.

"Would you rather explain to me how I couldn't get horny and jealous at such a sight... and Baby? Do you like that? Do you like it how I fuck you with my thigh? How well I can stimulate your clit with it? I already can feel how wet you are... isn't that embarrassing for you, how desperate your pussy has become, just from grinding a little bit on my thigh?", he whispers. He doesn't even try to hide his satisfaction.

His words send an electric shock through your body... just the thought that you really look as good in the bikini as you hoped, so that Jimin can think of nothing more than to do dirty things with you. And then other guys also have noticed you, which has made Jimin so jealous, turns you more on at this moment than you would like to admit. You didn't want to make him jealous at all, but fuck... that's just so freaking hot and you could say your "plan" has more than worked out!

His hand travels to your breasts, pulls with a rough yank the top of your bikini over your breasts, a moan are leaving his lips when he see your big, beautiful breasts. Your nipples are already hard and are just waiting to be caressed.

"F-Fuck... Jimin... G-God... I-I need you!", you whimper as he wraps his lips around your left nipple. You grind in his thigh even more, at the end you start riding him.

"So damn desperate... but only for me. Right?"

"Yes, Jimin, yes! O-Only for you. B-But please, I-"

"Hm? What, Babygirl? What do you want? What are you so desperate for, my Dear? Tell me~"

Jimin loves to tease you. He doesn't give you what you need until you spell the dirty words out by yourself. He loves the way you get shy, always starting to stutter in a damn adorable way until those dirty words come over your own lips. He loves it when his good, decent girl says indecent and sinful things. He loves it when you talk dirty to him.

"I-I want your big hard cock in my wet pussy... I-I... Oh god, Jimin... P-Please just fuck me... Please just fuck me like you already imagined...", you whine and bite your lower lip because of all this desire and need in your body. You need his cock in your pussy now.

"Theoretically, you teased me a lot more with this godlike body, right? But we don't have the time for more teasing, I'll stuff your plump, pretty and sweet pussy with my big cock now and gonna fuck you so damn well~ Just look forward to the moment we're back home again... then you will get your well deserved punishment for making me so horny with this sinful outfit.", Jimin promised to you with a dark, lustful gaze.

With his hands on your delicious ass, he leads you from the door to the bed, which is placed on the opposite wall of the room.

"On your hands and feet, I want to fuck your naughty pussy nice and deep from behind. And you know how I loves it, to see your ass cheeks jiggle when I fuck you doggystyle~"

Oh God, now it can't be ans longer just water, that drips through the bottom of your panties onto the floor. Even if you don't want to admit it, his dirty talk and dominant behavior always makes a mess out of you.

In a matter of seconds, you turned your back to him and crawled onto the bed on all fours. For a very short moment you're sorry to ruin the neatly made bed with your still dripping body and the unrestrained sex, that will follow now.

As soon as you have brought yourself into a comfortable and "stable" position, Jimin pulls your bikini panties down with an impatient tug. You moan in anticipation when you feel the cold air on your bare cunt, even starts to wiggle with your ass a bit more, knowing what kind of effect it has on Jimin.

A deep growl leaves his throat when he sees your plump, fluffy pussy lips are coated all over with your arousal. The way your thick ass cheeks jiggle causes that he gives you a hard slap on the your right butt cheek, what makes you whimper.

"Behave, little Girl.", he says quietly from behind with a warning undertone.

But he doesn't fill your needy pussy immediately, he prefers to pull your ass cheeks apart at first, to have a much better view of your cunt. When he spreads your pussy lips with his index and middle finger open and sees your desperately waiting hole, clenching around nothing. Then he also lost his patience.

With uncoordinated movements of his hands, he pulls his shorts and boxers briefs down to his knees, grabs your hips with a firm grip and push himself into your tight pussy without any warning.

A little cry out of surprise and initial pain comes over your lips, but then you remember that you're having sex in a place where you shouldn't (especially not at this early hour!) and pressing your hands on your mouth quickly.

That’s better anyway. When Jimin fucks you hard, there are always noises coming out of your mouth that you never heard before from yourself.

In short: When Jimin fucks you hard, you're loud. Shamefully loud.

Your boyfriend doesn't give you much time to get used to his cock. But after these days you barely need to get used to it anyway, you have been doing it too often for the past few nights.

His thrusts are perfect, absolutely perfect... hard, fast and incredibly deep. Stretching your pussy just in the right way in all perfect places. And the more you can't hold up yourself on your arms because of the pleasure, the more you sag with your upper body onto the mattress.

This changes the angle even more and Jimin fills you up even deeper than before, finding that sweet spot in your body again. That spot that lets you see stars and the desire almost explodes deep inside your abdomen. But only almost.

This here is the best method for Jimin to torture you. Driving you to the edge of lust, but it's still not enough to let you cum.

Jimin loves this sight.

He loves how your chubby body just shows him how well he fucks you. How the soft, plush flesh of your love handles or your ass cheeks jiggle with every hard thrust that his hips gives your plush body.

How plump your pussy lips are, but how fucking tight your hole is, gripping his hard cock so damn well. He loves to places his palm between your thick thighs on your fluffy vulva, so soft because of that delicous extra flesh and toying your clit to elict even more sweet moans and whimpers from your lips.

"O-Oh my God, Jimin! P-Please don't stop, oh god, please don't stop fucking me and rubbing my clit like that! I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna c-cuu-", you moan, scream at the end, but you just can't stop yourself from being fucking loud.

And to be honest, Jimin doesn't want you to mute your voice. Deep inside of him, his little, dirty devil wants everyone down there to know that he's fucking you onto cloud nine.

When you cum, your walls contract so tightly, Jimin can't help but cum too, your pussy literally milks every drop of his cum out of his cock.

With a deep groan shoot Jimin his load deep into your pussy, mark you in the filthiest way possible as his girl.

You two are breathing heavily and have your eyes closed, Jimin lies himself down on your back. His hands slowly relax from the rigid grip on your hip, then he wraps his arms around your soft belly and lets himself fall to one side together with you, before he becomes too heavy for you.

In the following minutes your breath regulates themself and a certain silence gradually returns to the room. Only the dull bass of the music from outside breaks the silence, accompanied by laughter when someone jumps into the pool, screaming.

Jimin has softened and now slides out of you easily. You can feel the mattress sink under his weight as he gets up and goes into the guest bathroom to get a soft, wet washcloth for you.

He quietly asks you to turn yourself on your back. He gently opens your legs and carefully cleans the mess between your thighs, trying his best to get you rid of his cum. After all, you want to stay a few more hours after this... Quickie? Can you call his here a Quickie?

It takes a moment for you both to straighten your clothes and hair so that no one can immediately see that you had wild sex less than 15 minutes ago.

Jimin is about to unlock the door when you grab his wrist.

"Jimin, let's be honest. No more strange jealousy actions today, okay?"

Jimin turns to you, looks at you thoughtfully until a cute smirk forms on his lips.

"Jealousy? I don't know that word, not anymore after I've marked your beautiful neck and chest all in detail. Now everyone will know that you're my girl!", says Jimin and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek.

You roll with your eyes and look back at him, pretty annoyed.

"Jimin!"

"Yes, yes, Honey. I know... I know that I have to work on my jealousy problem...", Jimin says in a reassuring voice and looks at you seriously, showing you, that he understood what you mean.

"... but still you can't deny that you like it when I give you hickeys. When I visited you last time, I saw you proudly and satisfied admired my love bites in the mirror!", he reply with a mischievous and playful smirk.

"Oh god Jimin, you're going to shatter my last nerves!", you grumble and shoo him through the door.

You hate it that you can barely be mad at him over a longer time!

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