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imthebadguyyy · 3 years

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Temporary Fix

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (fem!F1 driver!reader)

Fandom - F1

Summary - You're the only female F1 driver, and you're damn good at your job. Oh, and you also have a friends with benefits relationship with a certain 7x World Champion.

Warnings - smut, best friends -> lovers, slight exhibitionism

A/N - you have the second merc seat in this, so Valterri isn't here : (( not proof read

Sometimes, you hated yourself for following your passion. Driving a F1 car had been your dream ever since you could remember. The long process from karting to F1 had been a difficult one. When you were seven, you had a go kart track manager that you couldn't race there because you were a girl. That had cemented your will to be the best you could be, and you had done it.

You had made it into a Mercedes F1 seat after spending two years in Williams. It was safe to say that you were one of the best drivers, with killer instinct and an excellent eye for overtakes. The likes of Mika Hakkinen, Niki Lauda, Jacques Villeneuve and others had praised your skills, naming you one of the best talents in the current driver pool.

But the glory, the fame, the praise, sometimes you wished you could just evaporate into thin air. This was one of those times. Press conferences sucked, they really did. Reporters and journalists thought they were entitled to ask you the most sexist of questions, brushing them off by saying it was 'just a simple question'. Sometimes the drivers you were paired up with defended you, like Seb or Pierre or Lewis or even Kimi. Sometimes people didn't want to say anything, or they just laughed it off or answered for you.

This was not one of those times. Charles was supposed to be your partner for the press conference, but he wasn't feeling too great so you were on your own. It had started off fine, with the usual questions like 'how are you feeling about the race?' 'is it gonna be a good weekend for Mercedes?' and then it had gone to 'Do you think you being the only woman here, you should have a special suit?' or 'Are you sure it's a good idea for you to continue another year in F1?' that's what had irked you off.

With a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head, you bit back the cutting response that had sprung to your lips, opting to simply look disapprovingly in silence, speaking more words in the quiet. Eventually, the conference was over, and you made your way out of the hall, deep in thought, so lost in your own world, you didn't notice when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into one of the nearby storage closets.

Your protest of "Hey!-" was cut off by a pair of lips pressing to yours, strong arms wrapping around your torso. "Heard you had a bad day with the press" Lewis mumbled against your lips, brow furrowing when you sighed and let your head drop onto his shoulder. "Yeah they're such fucking jerks" you replied, closing your eyes. "I'm sorry you have to deal with them every time" he continued, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Eh, I mean I'd rather not talk about it" you continued, letting your fingers trace a pattern on his chest.

The silence in the room was disturbed by the ringing of Lewis's phone, making you jump softly. "Bono" he answered, looking down at the screen. "Pick it up"

"Hello?"

"Lewis, we're waiting for the meeting? And is Y/N with you?" Bono's voice rang through the tiny closet, as you turned to look at Lewis with wide eyes. Shit, the debrief. "Yeah, I'm coming! Oh, and I'll see if I can find Y/N" he replied, making you suppress a smile. The moment he put the phone down, the both of you burst into giggles, before he leaned down to press another kiss to your lips. "Well, we should go" he said, biting back a smile when you sighed, and cuddled into his shoulder. "Fine"

"But I'll make it up to you tonight baby" he continued, as a shiver ran down your spine. Oh yeah, you two had a friends with benefits situation going on too. No biggie

Except, well, you know you couldn't tell anyone, and you were definitely in love with each other, but I mean, of course it was better to be stupid and just simply refuse to acknowledge those feelings for each other.

♥︎☾☁︎

It had happened, when Lewis won his championship in Turkey. The team had thrown a (socially distant) party, and you had gotten just a little more drunk than you should have, but the champagne was flowing, tequila shots were being taken, beer was being chugged so you just jumped in and had a few more glasses of wine than you should have, and participated in a few rounds of shots.

Before you had known, a pair of hot lips had crashed onto yours, and your arms had tightly held onto a broad pair of shoulders, as the pair of you had stumbled up to your hotel room, crashing backwards onto the bed. Your drunken mind had been sober enough to recognise the 'Still I Rise' tattoo across his back when he tugged his shirt off.

At the same time, Lewis had recognised your face, heart speeding up ever so slightly because holy shit he was making out with you, and he really, really liked you. Before he knew it, your dress was down to your knees, and his shirt was a rumpled mess on the floor, your friendship gone far beyond repair, but only in the best way possible.

The next morning, you had let out a groan when the sunshine had flashed into your eyes, rolling over to find Lewis lying next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he slept peacefully. Your heart rate had sped up, and you had shot up, scaring the living day light out of Lewis. He had awoken with a start, confusion present in his brown eyes, before realization had sunk in, and he had shot out of bed, wrapping one of the towels around his lower body.

But before the two of you could get awkward, he had strutted over to you, grabbing your face in his hands before pulling you in for a kiss that made you feel weak and light headed.

And then the both of you came to the conclusion that you two wanted something loose and flexible, something fun with no commitment.

But was it what you wanted?

♥︎☾☁︎

Sometimes debriefs could drag on. And on. And on. Eventually, the engineers left the room, leaving only Toto, Lewis, Bono, Angela, James and yourself in the room. Over the years, it had become like a family for you, and you loved them to absolute bits. The mood in the room had changed, as you all joked around for a while.

Watching from the other side of the room, Lewis couldn't help the smile that etched itself onto his face, when he saw you throw your head back with laughter at something Toto said, inhaling sharply when your neck came into clear view, a sudden urge to mark you up settling in on his body.

It was a thrill, to think of how many times you had come undone on his fingers and his tongue, how many nights you begged for him to fill you up with his cock. It was a thrill to think of all the times he had cried your name out in ecstasy while your tongue worked wonders around him. And yet, here you were, acting as if you two were just best friends, not two people who could barely keep their hands off of each other.

Just two nights ago, he had made you scream his name so loud, the person the next room, who just happened to be Daniel, had not let him hear the end of it. Thankfully, the Aussie hadn't realized it was you in his bed. Two nights ago, he had made you see stars, and after that you had rewarded him with the performance of his life to Nights Like This by Kehlani.

Snapping back to reality when a slight poke was applied to his shoulder, Lewis looked over to see Angela looking at him with a slight smirk on her face. He strongly suspected that the woman definitely had some sort of inkling about the both of you. How ? No idea. But she was a crazy smart woman, and was bound to have figured out that he was seeing someone.

It didn't help that atleast half the people on the grid had at some point teased him, telling him the both of you were made for each other. It was like the universe was pushing the both of you to be together, and he kept pushing it away

"So are we feeling confident going into this weekend?" Toto asked, grabbing his attention from the smirking blonde.

"Yup!" Your cheery answer elicited a smile from everyone in the room. "Yeah I think so" he said, watching as you flashed him a quick smile. "Okay, then, I think we're done for now. Any questions?" Bono asked, scanning a data sheet in front of him. "No, i'm good" you replied, reaching over to grab your phone. "Yeah me too" Lewis said, far too concerned with what was going to happen later that night to pay his full attention to Bono.

"Okay then. We'll see you tomorrow"

And with that they departed. Before Lewis could follow you, a hand grabbed his and he turned to see Angela, Toto and Bono looking at him expectantly. "So whose got you all distracted and flustered?" Angela asked, earning a smirk from Toto. "What? No one" he replied, slapping himself mentally for being all day dreamy during a meeting. "Oh really? I'm willing to bet you didn't hear anything I said during the meet except the last bit" Bono said, smiling when his driver got visibly flustered.

"So do we know her?" Angela continued, watching him closely for any giveaway reactions. "How would you know her if I don't like anyone?" Lewis said, hoping to God it didn't come across as awkward as it sounded.

"Never said you liked anyone. I'm saying you're in love with someone" Angela said, watching as her friend's eyes widened in shock, and he shook his head profusely. "Okay are you on something? I'm just gonna head back to the hotel now" he murmured, confused, and somewhat taken aback by her bluntness.

Ignoring the looks on the others faces, he made his way out to the paddock, trying his hardest to make sense of his feelings. Was a casual relationship with you what he wanted? He wanted so much more than that.

Lewis knew, deep down in his heart, that he wanted to hold your hand in public, and kiss you right on the lips in front of everyone when you shared a podium. He wanted to be able to call you his, to not just spend the night with you, but to spend all his days with you. But you didn't want that.

Or so he thought.

♥︎☾☁︎

Back at the hotel, Lewis busied himself with working out, trying to push all his frustrations out via the workout. He knew that you were going to turn up in the night, and he looked so damn forward to seeing you each night, but god, he hated it when you left in the morning. Every morning when your warm body slipped out from under the sheet, his arms would tighten for a moment, before your giggle would bring him back to reality and he'd hastily draw back, smiling at you. His favourite moment was when he came to your hotel room in Spain. In the morning, he had woken up before you, and before leaving, he had pressed a little kiss to your forehead. The most gorgeous smile had curled onto your lips, and his heart had melted into a little puddle when you rested your cheek on his hand

And then in Monaco, when he had taken you to his apartment, you had woken up before him, and he had woken up to the sight of you bringing a tray of pancakes and fruits, followed by a soft kiss to his cheek.

It was those moments he cherished, but it was those same moments that confused him.

His train of thought was broken when a knock echoed in the room, as he walked over to the door, opening it to find : you

"Hey" you greeted him, walking in and shedding your jacket. "Hey" he replied, reaching for a towel to wipe the sweat off of his body. "Wow um, is this a bad time?" You asked, eyes trailing down his abs, watching as his body glistened in the fading sun light. "No its fine, I just finished my workout. You hungry?" He continued, biting back a smirk when he saw your eyes roaming his body.

"W-what? Yeah, i, um, suppose - yeah" you murmured, mind already far down the gutter.

"For food darling, not for sex" he said, making you blush and let out a small gasp. "Lewis!" You chided, shoving him softly. "You know you were thinking it" he mumbled, pushing you up against the wall. "Yeah I was" you whispered back, yanking him forward by his shoulders, slamming your lips against his.

Lifting you up from the waist, he pressed his body further into yours, one of his hands wandering down to your ass, squeezing harshly, earning a moan from your lips. Taking the opportunity, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, groaning when you let your core grind against him.

Leading you towards the bed, he stopped in confusion when you stopped him, maneuvering him towards the balcony. "Want you to fuck me against the window or in the balcony" you gasped out, earning a moan from him.

"Right where anyone could see us, hmm? Didn't know you were into that baby" he growled, grabbing your earlobe in between his teeth, earning an airy gasp from you, as the wetness threatened to seep down your legs.

"Mmhmm" was all you could muster, your mind so clouded with desperation you couldn't form a single coherent thought. The only thing you were aware of was that only Lewis could make you feel the pleasure you wanted to feel, only he would take you to that little piece of heaven, only he would hold your hand and fuck you into oblivion, and he would still be there to clean you down with a sponge softly.

"If you insist"

Grabbing you roughly, he slammed your body against the massive hotel room window, ripping the mercedes team shirt you were wearing off of your quivering form, letting it drop to the floor, before he hooked his fingers into the material of your jeans, tugging the denim down your legs

With a soft groan, you pulled his nike shorts down his legs, moaning when his cock came into view, the throbbing in between your legs making you whimper, arousal and need growing tenfold in your tummy.

"Please" you whispered, meeting his eyes, so he could see the pure desperation in your eyes. "Please what?" He said, a certain roughness you hadn't heard before creeping into his voice

"Please fuck me" you moaned, gasping when he brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly. "Oh trust me doll, i will. But first, i want to have you dripping wet and ready for me. I want to make you cum on my fingers, so you're wet and ready for my cock. Do you want my fingers princess?" he continued, feeling his arousal grow when you whimpered and whined.

"Words baby girl. Or I'll just leave you here with your pathetic fingers. I bet you can't even reach all those spots inside you that make you scream, when your tiny little fingers try to please yourself. I bet you just feel like sinking into yourself, but the thought of my fingers keeps you awake. Do you do that, sweet girl? Do you pretend your fingers are mine when you're touching yourself, hmm?'

When you didn't answer, he delivered a smack to your ass, groaning when you moaned at the pleasurable sting. "Yes" you whispered abashed.

"Don't be shy baby. Its okay. I know you feel so good when I love on you. I can see it when you scream my name" and with that, his pointer finger began circling your clit, rubbing circles around it before shifting so he was rubbing the sensitive bud directly.

Your moans of ecstasy were music to his ear, a smile gracing his features, as he let his middle finger slip into you, thrusting it in and out of you. Your soft cry of "fuck" cracked when he shoved his pointer into you as well, scissoring them in and out of you

"Oh fucking hell Lew-" "Shh my darling, i didn't say you could talk, did I?" He said, fingers working at an indescribably quick pace, as the knot in your tummy tightened and threatened to loosen. "I'm gonna-" "go ahead baby" he murmured, using his pointer and thumb to pinch your clit roughly, as you came around his fingers with a scream

"Good girl. You wanna put that pretty little mouth to use somewhere else?" he asked, watching as you dropped to your knees eagerly, (just like I would do irl) reaching up to rest your hands on his hips.

"Someone's eager to suck my cock hmm? Be a good girl for me, and don't waste time" he ordered, a shudder running down his body when your nails traced the veins on his cock, and then as they reached downwards, your thumb circling his tip, collecting his pre cum on your finger. Then you shoved your thumb in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, before sucking softly on your digit, rolling your eyes back. You were snapped back to reality when Lewis roughly yanked your head up, pure arousal clouding his pupils

"You better use your mouth right now, or i swear i will leave you here alone to pleasure yourself" he threatened, moaning when you took his tip into your mouth at once, sucking softly before swirling your tongue upwards.

The feel of your tongue on him made him buck his hips into your mouth, the unexpected movement pushed him quite far back in your mouth, looking up at him, you hollowed out your cheeks, taking more and more of his cock into your mouth, the sounds he was making above you fuelling you. You took him as far back as you could without gagging, as a strangled moan of "Fuck Y/N!"left his lips. He grabbed your hair, tugging upwards, the tingling on your scalp sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. "Fuck baby, you're gonna have to stop now, I really want to fuck you now" he growled out, pulling you up before pushing you towards to balcony railing

Lining up with your entrance, he watched as you let out a shaky breath, eyes falling shut, as you clenched in anticipation.

"Are you sure you want this Y/N?" he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign that he was being too rough, or that you didn't want what was coming next

"Turning your head around to face him, you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. "I've never been more sure baby" was your affirming reply.

Kissing you back with the same fervour, he slowly pushed into you from behind, the both of you groaning in sync when your walls enveloped him. "fuck you feel so good darling. So fucking tight" lewis moaned, making you moan as well as the pleasure coursed through your veins.

Reaching around you, Lewis rubbed your clit while he continued to snap his hips against yours, making your breasts bounce against your chest, your hands gripping the balcony railing for dear life. Thank god it was dark.

He continued to rub and pinch you clit, before swiping his fingers through your wet folds. Then he shoved his fingers into your mouth, prompting you to suck on them

"Be an angel and suck on my fingers for me" he growled, moaning when your mouth eagerly closed around his fingers, sucking them with fervour.

Snapping his hips into you desperately, his hands encircled your waist, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, swishing his fingers around in your mouth. "Fuck baby thats it, i'm gonna cum" he groaned, capturing your earlobe in between his teeth, moaning when you clenched down on him again

"Oh fucking hell-" with a moan, he came into you, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to rub your clit again, sighing with satisfaction when you came around him with a scream of "Lewis!"

Panting, he dragged you back to the bed, both of you collapsing into the covers.

Your chest rising and falling rapidly, you curled up into his chest, letting your head droop onto his shoulder, as his fingers traced his initials onto your hip.

"Well princess, we seem to have a problem here" he said, as you snapped your head up to look at him in confusion.

"I think i'm in love with you"

♡☾☁︎

A/N - part 2? Also feel free to drop a comment, i'd really appreciate it 🤍 thank you so much for reading 🤍

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton x reader smut #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 imagines #f1 drivers smut #f1 drivers imagines #f1 drivers x reader #f1 x reader #smut #imthebadguyyyfics

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kpop-shenanigans · 6 years

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Destiny Isn't Your Friend - Soulmate AU! Johnny

Here’s another thing for Sam’s birthday. I just finished writing this, I’m tired as hell but I hope you enjoy as much as she did when reading this!! -Lyn

Prompt: Soulmate AU in which instead of having tattoo of the 1st thing they were going to say it would be this half heart which blinked faster and faster when you were getting closer and closer to the soulmate?and when you first talked to them, your and the person’s half heart would turn into a whole one WC: 2.1K

Soulmate. A person ideally suited to another. In another words, the one you’re destined to. You didn’t want believe in the concept of a soulmate existing. But, for your dismay, it’s something that does exist. Everyone is born with a white half heart. Its placement is on the wrists, with some exceptions, them being somewhere around the arm. Yours was on the wrist though, so no special snowflake for you. It’s hidden most of the time but starts blinking whenever your soulmate is around. That’s what your parents told you. They also told it becomes a full heart whenever you meet your soulmate. Your parents are soulmates, seen by their full white hearts on their wrists. They’ve told you their parents are also soulmates and their parents too. It’s a tradition running in your family. Everyone getting married to their soulmates for life. You were the only one in the family who didn’t actually want to meet their soulmate and stay with them forever. You wanted to get with someone that wasn’t your soulmate, to break your family’s tradition. Unfortunately, people try to find their soulmates, which makes it harder for you. Around your college, some have found their soulmate, others haven’t and a few don’t care about that. Inside your group of friends, a couple have found their soulmates, others haven’t. Your best friend hasn’t but she didn’t care much about it. But she’s focused on getting you your soulmate. You’ve told her plenty of times you didn’t want to be with your soulmate but she kept insisting. “Aw, come on (y/n), it’ll be nice.” she said, eating some fries. “You know I don’t want a soulmate, Chae.” you retorted, glaring at her. “Oh well, it would be nice to see you and your soulmate together. You’d be a perfect pair!” she replied, faking a sad face. You shook your head and continued eating lunch.

“Hey!” said a voice. You and Chaewon looked your side and there was another friend of yours. Before you could greet her, she immediately asked if you wanted to go to a party. “But you know I don’t like to go to parties” you replied. Your friend pouted and asked why. “She’ll end up alone because we’re gonna get wasted” Chaewon answered. “Noo, we won’t get wasted. We’ll be with you” your friend replied. “That’s what you said last time and I had to drag you home, Kimi” you retorted. Kimi gave a nervous laugh and Chae said she’ll stay with you. You sigh, knowing at a point she would leave you alone. But you decide to go with them anyways. Kimi gasps and thanks you. She mentions the party is this weekend, before scurrying off. “Are you sure you’re going to stay with me?” you ask Chaewon again. “As sure as my love for drawing” she says, nodding. You both finish eating and head for your classes. ——————– Weekend arrived and you were seriously regretting accepting the invite to that party. You were watching Stranger Things until the door bell rang. You got up and answered the door. Chae and Kimi were at your door, all dressed up to go to the party. “And you’re still in pjs” Kimi pointed out. “Weren’t feeling up to it?” Chaewon said. You nod and she replies with ‘Same, but Kimi dragged me’, earning a slap to the head from her. You invited them inside, closing the door after they’re inside. You went to your room and changed into something fitting for a party but also comfortable. You were probably going to be there for a while so you didn’t want to wear something uncomfortable. You got out of your room and, as soon as you got to the living room, Kimi groaned. “When are you gonna wear something for a party? You’re never gonna get the attention of someone like that”. “I prefer comfort over sex appeal.” you retorted. “Okay, if you two are done bickering, let’s go” Chaewon said, already at the doorstep waiting for them. You and Kimi headed out the door, locking it. “I call shotgun!” Kimi yelled, heading for the front seat. You got into the driver’s seat while Chaewon stayed in the back. You knew you were the designated driver since you didn’t really like drinking. You started the engine and drove off, following Kimi’s directions. Once you got to the house, Kimi ran off inside. Both you and Chaewon sighed, knowing she’d run away as soon as she got there. You headed inside and you saw a large crowd dancing to the ear-piercing music. Loud music wasn’t the problem, but you didn’t want to stay amongst the pit of bodies, so you pulled Chaewon to a people-free space. Fortunatly, you didn’t have to go through the pile of dancing bodies to get here. There was a corridor between where you were at and the other side. You walked through it and ended up at the house’s backyard. There weren’t many people around, just a few couples kissing like their life depended on it and a few passed out people. There was an empty bench, that looked like it was intact from all the possible drunk people who could’ve thrown up on it. You both sit down and you sigh. Why did you accept to go to this party anyway? You hear Chaewon inhaling, signalling she was about to say something. “Apparently my wrist has its heart blinking” she said, looking at her right wrist. It was barely blinking, but it was blinking in any case. “So your soulmate is in this party then?” you replied, glancing at the house. She nodded and her face lit up, like she suddenly remembered something. “Oh, what about yours! Is yours blinking?” she said excitedly. You pulled your left sleeve down, hoping it wasn’t blinking, but to your dismay, it was blinking like hers. You heard her quietly yelling, probably excited that you were able to meet your soulmate. You groaned, disappointed that you could meet your soulmate right now. “Do you want to go look for your soulmate?” Chaewon asked, tilting her head. You shaked your head. “No, there’s too many people inside. We were lucky to get here without going through the mosh pit”. A frown appeared on her face and her body slumped forward. “Okay then” she said, looking at the ground in defeat. “But I’m still getting a drink or two tonight, okay? I’ll be back” Chaewon said, getting up and walking towards the house. You nodded and looked at her going inside. You looked at your phone, looking at the time. It had been a while since she left, where was she? As soon as you asked yourself where she was, she stepped outside, holding hands with some guy you’ve never seen before. They looked pretty cute in your opinion. “So, you’ve met a friend and decided to leave me here?” you said. She shaked her head, looking worried. “No, no, noo! I didn’t leave you hanging, it’s just..” Chaewon replied, showing her and the guy’s wrist to you. The heart was a complete one, signaling the guy was her soulmate. You must say, he’s very handsome, almost like he’s straight out of a manga. “We met inside and talked a bit until she remembered you were out here alone.” he said, smiling at Chaewon. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot about you, I’m so sorry” she apologized, worry spread out on her face. You said it’s alright. “Well, I’m Taeyong, it’s nice to meet you.” he said, shooshing Chaewon. “(Y/N), it’s nice to meet you too Taeyong” you replied. They sat down next to you and you got a chance to know more about the guy. Apparently, him and a few other friends of his had transfered to the college you were at. While you three were talking, you noticed both Chaewon and Taeyong looked at eachother lovingly, like they were meant to be. Of course they are meant to be, they were soulmates after all. You thought to yourself. If you ever met your soulmate, what would you two act like? ——————– Monday arrived and you were sat down on your desk during your first lecture when you notice your half-heart blinking. You nudged Chaewon, showing her your wrist. She looked at your wrist then at your face a few times, looking like you had done something amazing. “This didn’t happen before in this class” you whispered. “Apparently, there’s someone new in this class” she replied, looking around to see if she could spot them. She nudged you and told you to look near the door. It was someone new as Chaewon said, someone you both haven’t seen before. He looked kind of foreign for the rest of the class. “Maybe it’s one of Taeyong’s friends” you said, focusing your attention back on the lecture. You’d rather pass this class than wonder who this guy is. But there was a thought at the back of your mind that said ‘Will I get a chance to meet him?’. Your morning classes passed by, always with the thought of the guy you saw on your first class. On the second class and third class, both Chaewon and your soulmate weren’t present so you try to pay attention to the lecture. But without Chaewon to talk to or the guy to look to, you’d almost drift into sleep. For your luck, you didn’t fall asleep. You finally got a break for lunch and Chaewon met with you to have lunch together, since your lunch break was aligned with hers. You sat down at the cafeteria and you saw someone walking towards you. With the corner of your eye, you saw Chaewon waving at them. You realized it was Taeyong but, why was he here? He sat down next to Chaewon and you couldn’t help but to ask 'Lunch break?’. He replied with a nod. “Hey Taeyong, do you know who the guy from my second class and your first class is?” Chaewon asked. Taeyong paused for a second, looking like he had been asked a impossible quiz question. “Oh, you mean Johnny, right?”, he finally answered, “He’s one of my friends. Why do you ask?” Chaewon pointed at you, replying “Well, her half heart started blinking during our first class, to which he was in.” Taeyong looked at you, surprised with the notice. You nodded as a confimation to what Chaewon said. “I can ask him to meet us today.” he said, taking out his phone. “No, no, noo, it’s okay. You don’t need to” you quickly said, not meaning to bother both Taeyong and Johnny. “Taeyongie-ah, please ask him to show up” Chaewon pouted, trying to convince Taeyong to call Johnny. She even did a puppy face to convince him. He almost gave in but he shook his head. “She said it was okay, Chae” he said, patting her head. She pouted and replied “At least, one day, it doesn’t have to be today”. He sighed, saying he would call him later for him to show up someday. She hugged him in joy, thanking him for it. ——————– A few days have passed and, one day, you three were having lunch, and your half heart started blinking. Chaewon noticed it, being the one who’s always observant, and pointed it out. Both you and Taeyong widened your eyes at it. “I asked him to come today but I didn’t think he’d actually show up” Taeyong said, breaking the ice. You and Chaewon looked at him, confused about why he said that. “He doesn’t like the whole soulmate thing” he clarified. “Okay, but that’s exactly like (Y/N)” Chaewon said, earning a laugh from Taeyong. “No wonder they’re soulmates.” You glared at them. “Hey Taeyong, how are you?” someone said. You three looked at the direction of the voice, finding someone very tall. “Hey Johnny, I’m fine, how you been holding up?” Taeyong replied. You stare at him in awe. You thought Taeyong was handsome but this guy was tenfold. At least, for you, he was. “So this girl here is my soulmate?” Johnny said, sitting next to you. “Supposedly so. Check your wrist.” Taeyong said. Johnny pulled his right sleeve down, revealing a full heart. You did the same and, low and behold, your half-heart had turned into a full one. “So I guess we’re stuck together forever.” Johnny said, looking at you. “I guess so. I mean, you look like a nice guy, so why would I complain?” you replied. “I don’t know, maybe you’ll find a reason to complain” he said back at you. “Yeesh, just stop complaining about it.” Taeyong interrupted. You and Johnny stared at him, like he had said something wrong. “But you two look cute though!” Chaewon said, trying to relieve the tension in the air. You started blushing and hid your face with your hands. “Well, she has a point.” Johnny replied, chuckling at your reaction. He put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards him. “I guess we’ll just have to deal with the fact that we’re soulmates and live together” he said. Chaewon aw'ed at both of you and Taeyong smiled. You thought soulmates were a bad thing but, I guess this one ain’t so bad after all.

#Johnny #Nct #Nct 127 #Johnny scenarios #Nct scenarios #Nct johnny #Johnny seo #seo youngho #nct headcanon #Nct au #Johnny headcanon #Johnny au #nct 127 scenarios #Nct 127 headcanon #Nct 127 au #Lyn #I hate tags #happysamday

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3one3 · 7 years

Text

The Sequel - 831

Scuderia Ferrari

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“So Voutilainen watch, vintage Jaguar, or brand new Ferrari? Those are the choices?”

“Mhm.”

“And it can only be one?”

“Mhm.”

“If it were me, it would be between the cars, obviously. I don’t care about watches. I wear this badass one some dude gave me.”

“Mhm.”

“Aaaaand I don’t think I’m really into the Jag. Certainly not enough to say no to, like, an F12tdf. My god. It’s sooooooo sexy. It’s soooooo fast. It has variable-geometry intake trumpets from Seb’s engine. B-T-dubs, can we watch the Spanish Grand Prix after this? Oh and back to the car- It has an active rear axle. Do you even know what that means?”

“Not really, no, and I wouldn’t get the hardcore car.”

“I would. In fact, if I win a gold medal in Tokyo, I’m gonna get one. I just decided. Wait, if you win the FA Cup too, can you pick two things?”

“You tell me. Is that a worthy trophy?”

“No.”

Juan and Christina went for a stroll along the Thames in front of his building after dinner. It was just warm enough out to be a pleasant night, and they talked about how the player would reward himself for the league title. There were a couple of things he’d been telling her about for years- expensive, exclusive things that he could gift himself at any time, really, but claimed he needed to earn. Finally, a token was deserved for his season-long work. Christina concurred. The FA Cup, still up for grabs for the Blues, wasn’t significant enough to warrant a second major reward though.

“Get the Ferrari, and then when I get mine we can go to Ferrari owners’ club events together and stuff. We could go to F1 races in Ferrari gear and not feel like tools,” the rider suggested, hands in the pockets of her varsity jacket. She felt all-over better after having a shower and getting into fresh clothes. The water helped wash away the disappointment of her weekend, and the frustration of the heated discussion with her friend when she got to England. The clean outfit conditioned her for the next thing- for having a nice dinner at one of her favorite restaurants, catching up on the little things that didn’t make it into texts or calls with her best friend while they were apart for nearly a month, and hearing more stories from the title celebrations. Juan, usually so adept at reading her and knowing what she wanted and needed, was poised for an after-dinner error.

“I like that you have so much confidence in your getting this Ferrari,” he chuckled. “You only just thought of it, and now you speak like it’s definitely going to happen. You must be very sure of the gold medal, eh?”

“No, not at all, but you would lecture me about it if I said “if” too many times,” his friend shot back, flat and frank. She really just wanted everyone to leave her alone on the subject of performances, expectations, and confidence.

“How do you know I won’t “lecture” on over-confidence instead?” he teased. “It’s just as dangerous!”

“I’ll throw myself in the river just to get away from you if you do.”

“Hey...” The message was quickly received. Traditionally he understood her thoughts before she even broadcast the message, but he was just as good at absorbing them once they were out there. His face morphed from smirky to concerned, and he looked over at her instead of at the walk ahead. There was more than a hint of warning in his tone to urge her to rethink being so short, or having that snappy attitude she’d just displayed.

“I’m sick to death of talking about all the things to do with riding that aren’t riding. I’m sick to death of thinking about them. I never had to before. I just didn’t.”

“Which things?”

“My mental condition. My expectations. My failures. The schedule. The prospects. How I feel about it. How I want to feel about it. How everyone else individually thinks I should feel about it, or think about it, or plan. Just shut up, all of you. Leave me alo- In the words of Kimi Raikkonen, leave me alone. I know what I’m doing.”

The Spaniard stopped in his tracks, also with his hands in his pockets, and looked at Christina like she was recently abducted by aliens and replaced with a pod person.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked incredulously. “Did no one remember to wish you a happy Mother’s Day? Did you just hit the cranky wall because it’s getting late? What did I say? What did I do? What ever have I done to invite such a sour thing?”

“You said the word “confidence”,” the grumpy girl grumbled. I know I was obnoxious just now, and I’m sorry, but I’m so fucking sick of...just...everything.

“So? I know you dislike a lot of words that start with “C”, but since when is that one banned?” Juan still appeared massively confused, and annoyed, but a little bit sympathetic too. His eyes softened the second hers dropped to the concrete.

“So I just can’t keep hearing people try to talk to me about me, and what I do. André keeps telling me I’m unhappy because of my riding. Everyone keeps checking to make sure I’m not having a well-contained meltdown because of what happened this weekend. People keep trying to advise me how to think and feel about the Olympics. I’m not even in the fucking team yet, so can we all just cool it with that?”

“You brought it up! Chris...you’re losing it, cariña,” Juan remarked with a rueful sort of snort-laugh. “I was just trying to tease you a little about how sure you were of getting the Ferrari, which I know you were just playing around about. I know you didn’t say it because you think you’re definitely going to win. It wasn’t a serious moment. I thought we were just playing. Relax. I won’t even say that anyone who reacts this badly to hearing the word “confidence” must be so short of it that-“

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Christina warned with her pointer finger. “Don’t say “I won’t even say” and then say exactly what you’re thinking. That’s like when people say, “I’m not racist, but”, and then proceed to say the most racist shit ever. I know what you’re thinking. Don’t.” He’s going to say I am obviously lacking confidence like whoa if I can’t even stand to have someone bring it up or accuse me of having it, or not having it, or, I don’t even know. But no. Just...nuh-uh.

“Okay!” Her dinner date put his hands up and kept laughing. He was no longer taking her outburst seriously, and she wasn’t sure if she appreciated that or found it patronizing. “What are some words you rather hear? Which words are good ones?” She folded her arms at his continued teasing, but she was leaning towards appreciating his attempt to deescalate with humor instead of just shutting his mouth and letting an uncomfortable silence engulf them and keeping up the tension.

“I like “effervescent”, and “lobster”, and “I love you”, and “I’m sorry”, or something with a rolled “R”.” I can be cheeky too. I’m not all sour pickles.

“I love you, my effervescent lobster. I’m sorrrrrrrry,” the Blue in tan wool told her, his effort to trill the apology failing a little bit because his smile interfered with his physical ability to do it. It made her smile too, nonetheless, and step closer to hug him. Just like that, bad feeling gone. That was what she was referring to when she thought about how Juan erased her problems and her stress and her unhappiness with a snap of his fingers and André kind of soothed them away somehow by not necessarily doing anything remarkable but just existing and being part of their relationship that made everything better.

“You know when chefs get gross and make lobster foam? If you mixed a little lemon and ginger into a lobster foam, you’d probably have effervescent lobster.”

“That sounds disgusting.”

“I know.”

“Let’s go home. Have you seen the race result already or did you manage to avoid it?”

“I haven’t been on Twitter allllll day. Did you watch it live?”

“No. I said I’d record it to watch with you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m a man of my word, cariña, even when you don’t like the word,” the Spanish footballer joked. His girl glared and pouted at him simultaneously, so he checked their immediate surroundings to make sure no one was there to see, and then graced her with a rare public kiss.

“Mmm-I love you,” she told him when his lips left hers. They switched the direction of their walk and took their time getting back to the towering apartment complex. He kept her talking about Formula 1, and Ferrari, and her favorite driver and hero. That was the kind of thing he was good at- knowing how to fix an unforced error, and how to help her save herself from herself, her own conscience. That was the kind of thing she sometimes didn’t notice he did. That was the soothing she didn’t pick up on and thus didn’t credit to him.

He got a new, bigger TV for his living room, so after Christina called André to say goodnight, they settled on the couch with her to-go box of rainbow cake cookies to watch that afternoon’s Spanish Grand Prix from the Circuit de Barcelona. Lewis Hamilton started from pole, and her man Sebastian passed him to take the lead in the first corner. So began a tactical battle between the Ferrari and Mercedes pitwalls. It was less about outright pace than timing their decisions. Juan fell asleep around the first wave of pitstops, and Christina fought her tiredness to stay up. The race was not a forgone conclusion at any point, so her adrenalin kept pumping. Formula 1 races were elaborate experiences for her. She couldn’t just watch and listen and wait to see what happened- not surprising, really, given her inability to be patient about virtually anything but her horses’ development. She had to use the live timing information, with the gaps and intervals, the tire data, and the sector times, to try to figure out the race the way the engineers in all the teams did. Sometimes she saw things happening or knew what was coming before the commentators did, or predicted what they would say about a decision, or a consequence, or a likely outcome. The races were an interactive thing for her. Ultimately her favorite part of watching and calculating was seeing her driver change the circumstances by exceeding expectations, either in terms of delivering raw speed or with his racecraft in making daring and difficult overtakes, and seeing him make a questionable strategy work that could only possibly happen if he was perfect behind the wheel and unyielding in his self belief. His personality shining through on the radio was a secondary highlight, and then the narrative and drama of the rest of the field third. All of the drivers and team figures were almost as familiar to her as Sebastian Vettel, and she had different types and levels of emotional investment in them. Nearly everything that happened in a race held some significance for her. A Grand Prix was one of her only true self-indulgences in life that delivered, even when the action and competition on the track was lacking. The Spanish round didn’t end the way she wanted- Lewis Hamilton got ahead during the final stint after reaping a lucky benefit of the timing of a virtual safety car period, and the Ferrari pilot came second- but it definitely helped her forget anything and everything she could do without.

Aww look at him, Christina thought when she finally looked away from the TV and the iPad on which she was able to play back the live timing of the race as if in real time. Juan was on his side with a couple of pillows and a blanket up to his face. He’s so cute. I bet he’s still tired from Friday night. Last night I had this whole fantasy about tonight. I wanted to put on that amazing song from Brody’s that I tracked down- that one I found on YouTube and I can’t even figure out if the title of the video is the song or the artist- the sexy one that sounds like a Placebo song about drugs mixed over a sexy piano-based electro beat, and- well, anyway- She pulled her legs up under her on the couch and covered herself with another blanket while her stream of consciousness wandered. Her body kept itself so pumped during the race that her temperature went up and it was too hot for the blanket until the adrenalin and stress receded. The post-race coverage was still playing, but she was more interested in watching the sleeping player.

I wanted to play that song and do something scandalous, like fill his room with white rose petals and candles- probably at least one of those to-die-for Tubereuse ones I have at home- and fluff up his pillows and the feather bed and the duvet, and just, you know, treat him right. I was going to be naked and well moisturized, and serious! I would be serious. And seductive. I’d take his clothes, one article at a time, and kiss him everywhere, and I wanted it to be intense. I was thinking about it being all dark, and intimate, and forget-the-rest-of-the-world-is-happening. I wanted passion. Like one of those rare nights where you have sex for hours and it’s actually exactly like it is in the movies. In reality you do still have awkward moments, and stuff tastes funny, and you probably don’t look nearly as good as you think you do, but you don’t notice any of that because you’re too busy being obsessed with each other. The touching. The kissing. God, the things his hands could do if he had all night. I haven’t had that in forever, with either of them! I pictured us a little sweaty even though we were moving slowly, and I wanted to be overwhelmed. I wanted my lips to be chapped in the morning from all the making out and worshipping him, and- Yeah, I know, she smiled to herself. It was completely normal to her to be telling herself a story. I know his body isn’t like boyfriend’s. It’s not as sexy when he’s just laying in bed. He’s sexier when he does things. But still. He reacts the same when you kiss everything, or you leave a hickey somewhere weird. He tenses, or mutters something, or groans even, and it’s sooooooo hot. I love that. I love making them do that. I do get more physical pleasure from putting my mouth and my tongue on some of boyfriend’s parts, like his stomach, for example, and his thighs, because he’s more...muscley, I guess- and he’s less hairy in those place, but I totally die for their reactions just the same. With Juanin it’s like...what can I do to him to make him want to squeeze me? To hold my neck, or hang onto my waist like he thinks I don’t feel pain. I got off last night, literally, planning that all out. I still want to do it. Just not tonight, I guess.

The rider crawled closer to her sleeping friend on her hands and knees and then settled near enough to be able to pet his head. He needs rest. He has a match tomorrow, and he can’t really be match fit now. He’s only played a little since coming back. I kinda wish I hadn’t just reviewed that whole fantasy though. Between that and his cruel, cruel, inexcusably unfair teasing when I was trying to get in the shower and trying to get him to get in it with me, I am now feeling deprived. But... Christina tilted her head all the way in one direction, and then back the other. She was being as delicate and careful as possible about touching the longest of his hair, at the top of his head. His eyelashes- long, voluminous, and chocolate brown- were the biggest draw for her gaze. There was a desire within her for more than just some sexual gratification. She felt deprived of more than just that. Her connection to the Spaniard was missing. That thing he talked about, that he only got with her, and only when they slept together, was real for her too, and she missed it. The one she had with André was nearly restored but it couldn’t take the place of the other. Watching Juan sleep on the back of a weekend so full of extreme emotions for them both made her want to connect. She thought absently about what happens when you connect two things that are at opposite extremes. She thought absently about the possibility that connecting with his wonderful high from winning the title might lift her from the low of her getting kicked around all weekend by bad luck.

It was hard work to keep her head up and keep trucking on, keep putting in her best, when her hard work wasn’t getting rewarded the way it normally would, or used to. Doing that work, and not succumbing, or giving in and being defeated, actually felt really good to the many times Nations Cup winner, WEG runner up, and World Cup champion. It was satisfying to beat her demons a little that weekend. But the outcome still “sucked”. Christina hated losing, and she hated it when it wasn’t her fault almost more than when it was, because at least if her failure were by her own doing then she could figure out how to improve and do it better next time. Being robbed by her teammates, by some other people being freakishly and out of character good, and by Mother Nature, was frustrating. She knew there was a time when she would have told herself that she’d just have to get so good that no one and nothing could take her down. The mental side of her game wasn’t back to that level yet, and that was disappointing too. Frustration, disappointment, tiredness, injustice- it all stacked up, and Christina just wanted to feel better. She looked at Juan like an alcoholic looks at a bottle. She knew she shouldn’t, but she needed it. She turned a little and leaned down to kiss the Chelsea man’s cheek. Her lips parted wide and stayed there on his warm skin for a moment before slowly pulling together.

“Juanin,” she whispered, still close to his face.

“I’m just resting,” he mumbled, making her smile and sit up a bit.

“The race is over. Lewis won. Seb was second. Dan third.”

“I like when you touch my hair.”

“Mhm.” Christina leaned down to smooch his cheek again, and continued to play with his hair. “Ready for bed?” I was thinking snuggly sex was better than no sex, but he seems so sleepy. I can live with just the snuggles, she decided. I can just pet him in bed while he goes back to sleep, and that’ll be nice enough.

“Come.” Juan ignored her question and opened up his fuzzy dove gray throw to invite her into his space more comprehensively. It was clear he intended to spoon with her. She chewed her lip for a second while considering the options. I wanna sit on him and kiss him though. I want him to lay on his back and let me...do stuff. I wonder if it’s okay to sit on him yet? While she considered, the Spaniard opened one eye to find out what was taking so long. “What’s wrong?” he questioned when he saw her pensive expression.

“I really wanna kiss you a lot. Like all over. But I also want you to get your beauty rest.” The wavy haired brunette touched his right cheek with her palm, her eyes blank. There was something unique about being with Juan just then. She didn’t have to think about what she did or said, or how she looked. There was no worrying about how something she said would be understood, or how any actions would be interpreted. It was so very easy to forgo all secondary considerations. She could just do or say whatever she wanted. Her natural instinct was to kind of stare blankly at him while she thought about what she wanted to do, and how she wanted to do it. It was okay to do that. There was no urge to worry that he’d think she wasn’t being truthful, or was exaggerating or something because her blank stare could be read that way. It was okay to wait and get lost in her thoughts for a minute instead of hurrying under the blanket. That wasn’t so with André. With André there was always a voice in the back of her head reminding her to fear his reaction or understanding. He could take it the wrong way if she didn’t jump to get cozy with him. He could read it incorrectly, and assume it meant something significant. Whether he would do that or not didn’t matter, because her first instinct was to worry about it. That was what mattered. Christina wasn’t 110% comfortable with him for the time being. She felt she could do or say anything with his ex-teammate in that moment and it would be fine.

“I only have one night with you. You actually think I’m going to sleep without making love to you?” he laughed sedately. “You know I’m not a morning person, cariña.”

“I like when you’re a make love to me for the entire night person,” the equestrian mumbled back, empty eyes still fixed on his. The truth was, she was incredibly tired too. The main reason she was stuck in that stare was that she was exhausted and it was easy. The secondary reason was the ongoing conversation in her head. It wasn’t about side effects or implications or body language. It was a mishmash of memories and wants.

“Have we ever done that?” Juan asked back, one eyebrow up and one down, such that Christina couldn’t actually figure out if he was being sarcastic or not. “And when did you stop hating the phrase “make love”? You used to hate it.”

“I grew out of that I guess,” she shrugged, letting go of his face to pull her legs closer to her upper body. The first question he asked was far more relevant to her. “The first time, we stayed up the whole night. I was trying to think just now if we’ve ever had morning sex. I can only remember the first time. The sun was coming up when we finally stopped.”

“Oof.” He puffed out his cheeks. “You want to beat that? That’s a big ask!” His ex shook her head and then let it fall over and back onto the cushion behind her. “Then what?”

“Guess.”

“Are you solemn looking because you’re finally going to let me fu-“

“Absolutely not,” she snorted, laughing. “No butt sex, Juanin. Not happening.”

“Then what is it? What are you wanting?”

“Just to be with you.” Her countenance stilled with seriousness again when she righted her head. “I want to be in the little bubble with you, where there is nothing but me and you and the minimum amount of air we need. Do you know what I mean? When nothing else is happening in the entire world because we’re in the bubble and all that matters in the bubble is like...kissing, and touching, and not being really sure if feeling good feels better than making each other feel good? I wanna be with you and only you, no rest of the world.” The blue-eyed Blue beckoned her back to his personal space with a wave of his hand inside the blanket. She leaned down again and got face to face with him, cradling his head. Kiss him or wait for him to kiss me, was the debate.

“You have a beautiful way of thinking about things, angel.” The footballer lifted his head from the pillows just enough to push a rather delicate kiss into the middle of her mouth, and then a second of similar aspects into the right corner of it. Christina wanted a third kiss, and readied her lips for it so that she could “catch” his, and engage them. They were needed to make words instead though. “I love you.” She took it upon herself to get them back into the kissing after his declaration. Her nose rubbed his and she closed her eyes and pulled just more than gently at his lower lip. That’s the most flattering thing he’s ever said to me, she was thinking. I go to him to find out how to think about things. He always tells me how to do it differently. That’s one of his best merits for me. He shows me the right way to think. I love that there is finally something he thinks I think about the right way- or a “beautiful” way, as he said. I love that. I’m not entirely sure he thinks the beautiful way of thinking is smart, or well reasoned, but I’ll take beautiful. Beautiful is better. If you’re talking about feeling good, beautiful is better than smart. No one truly admires another for being smart. You admire what their smarts enable them to do, like solve math problems, or speak powerfully. Beauty is art, and you envy the artist for making the beautiful thing, or you envy the person that owns the beautiful thing. He’s told me before that he envies my attitude on certain things, and how I take care of myself, or used to, I suppose, but this is different. This is the first time I know for sure he admires me for something I do, because he didn’t say it that way. It wasn’t explicit. He didn’t say it to flatter, or lift me up. He said it because it’s real. I love that. I love him.

“Love you too,” Christina whispered hoarsely when she had to give up the liplock because she needed to see the mosaic of shades of blue she trusted would be looking up at her. She needed to see Juan’s eyes explode the way they only did when he was truly very happy and content, and not just happy in a moment. They were right there, resplendent in periwinkle, azure, royal, sky, and even indigo. Some gray and silver lurked among all the blues to give the collage a touch of luster, and the whole thing was contained by what looked like thick, gleaming glass, a bit like a marble. She loved that she could make them look like that, or that they did their explosion thing just for her. The midfielder was enjoying her eyes too.

“This face you make when you actually know what you want...” he muttered, thumb on the side of her chin.

“Make the bubble with me.” That’s what I want. To be alone in the world with him, she clarified to herself as he nodded and slid his fingers around more of her face to bring her closer. That’s what will make everything fine.

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