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queenshelby · 3 months ago

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Daughter Dearest (Part One)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Home. The word itself tasted like mothballs and childhood memories, both bitter and sweet on your tongue.

What others would call home, did not feel like home to you at all, not after your mother had destroyed everything that you were familiar with just when you had turned fifteen.

It was then that she had begun an affair with an actor named Cillian Murphy, whom she had met on the set of a movie he was filming and, just as if she had planned it all, she became pregnant with your stepsister Sadie.

Your mother was 37 at the time, with Cillian having been five years her senior.

It was all over the papers at the time and, just as you thought that things could not get any worse, she left your father, who was heartbroken and bewildered, and moved in with this then stranger to you.

You and your twin sister, Cliona, were expected to just follow suit, like little lost puppies and whilst Cillian himself seemed like a nice man, it was not something that you were able to do that easily. You had always been strong willed and gave your mother quite the run for her money with your rebellious nature which, in part, was the reason why she had pushed you to go away to live your father in New York.

New York was where you had finished school and, as soon as you turned eighteen, you made your way on a journey around the world.

You travelled to New Zealand, Africa and then South Amerika too. There were times when your money ran out but you always managed to get by, taking on odd jobs here and there, just so that you could survive.

It was during your time in Tanzania, when you met a woman, in her forties, who worked in an orphanage with you, and it was her who introduced you to photography. She told you that the camera was woman's truth and that with it, you had the power to tell stories.

She handed you her canvas camera and you began to snap away, discovering facets of Tanzania, its people and its wildlife in ways that words alone could not articulate.

The experience had left an indelible impression on you and from that day onwards, you knew that photography would be the lens through which you viewed the world and translated your experiences.

Your wanderlust had taken you on a three year journey, one that had seen you capture the beauty of the world through photographs. You had even managed to sell some of them to a hip magazine, which showcased your work alongside a spread of your adventures.

The pay was decent, just enough to keep you going and still let you see the world.

College had been an option, but not one you wanted to seriously consider. You had never been one to follow the rules and conventions that came with higher education, and the thought of being stuck in a classroom for four more years seemed unbearably tedious.

But then, after an amazing three years, your travel journey came to an abrupt end when you got into trouble with the law while passing through the UK, on your way back to New York.

At London Heathrow, just after taking a flight from Rome, you were stopped by customs for questioning regarding a package that they found in your luggage. It was a small box that just fit snugly within the zippered pocket in your backpack.

Inside the box there were as an illicit substance and it was this substance that got you arrested.

You were questioned for hours, leaving you dazed, frightened and confused about how the drugs had even gotten into your bag and, after a series of panicked phone calls to your family, your mother agreed to bail you out.

Days later, in court, you were given a short sentence, including a travel ban for three months and house arrest for one.

"I much rather go to jail than live with my mother for four weeks," you thought to yourself, but the sentence had been handed out and, before you knew it, you were taken to where you had once lived, in the outskirts of London.

Time seemed to slow down the moment you crossed the threshold of that Victorian house, so familiar in every fine detail that it seemed to shrink around you.

The police officer who accompanied you rang the doorbell on your behalf and, after a few moments, your sister Cliona , whom you hadn't even spoken to in a year, opened the heavy oak door.

Her dark eyes, much like yours, narrowed at the sight of you, before dissolving into a cold, expressionless mask.

"Hi, Cliona," you greeted her, but it was clear that she wasn't interested in talking.

Her thin lips barely moved as she spoke. "Mum isn't home, but come on in," she simply said to the officer rather than you.

Cliona's dismissive attitude was nothing new to you, but it still hurt.

You had once been close, like two peas in a pod, but she had changed somewhere along the way. Growing up, you had always been the rebel, the one who pushed boundaries and questioned authority, while she was the obedient one, always trying to please your mother.

Over the years, that gap had only widened, until it seemed like you were living on opposite ends of a vast, unbridgeable chasm.

With a resigned sigh, you stepped into the hallway which is when you saw him, for the first time in 18 months. It was Cillian, emerging from one of the rooms at the far end of the hallway, with your little half sister Sadie clinging to his side, her tiny fingers wrapped around one of his fingers.

As soon as Sadie saw you, she ran towards you , squealing with excitement, and you couldn't help but smile at the sincerity in her voice as she called out your name.

"Y/N! Y/N!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around your waist. Her laughter echoed through the expansive hallway as you stooped down to pick her up, your heart feeling warmer and softer than it had in months.

You had always kept in touch with her, and even visited her on numerous occasions, putting up with your mother for short periods of times for Sadie's sake, mostly while Cillian had been away filming.

He was a busy man and your interactions with him to date were limited. Cillian took a step towards you, his warm smile radiating kindness.

"Welcome home, I suppose," he said with a slight chuckle, his rich voice resonating through the room. You couldn't help but blush as he looked directly into your eyes, the corners of his eyes crinkling in genuine delight at seeing you. It was a small but friendly gesture that made you feel a little better about this somewhat unfortunate situation.

"Thanks," you mumbled, not quite sure what to say in response. You had imagined seeing him again, but there was something utterly different about him now, something that you had not noticed when you saw him last, about eighteen months ago, at your aunt's wedding.

He had grown a little older, his hair was peppered with more silver strands, giving him an air of maturity, though his eyes seemed the same vibrant shade of blue that they had been before, sparkling with intelligence and a hint of mischief.

While you were spending some time with your little stepsister, the police officer pulled out some paperwork and what looked like an ankle monitor , informing you that this would now be a part of your daily life since it was ordered by the court for the next one month.

You couldn't help but wince at the sight of the device. It felt like an electronic handcuff latched on, but you didn't complain, knowing that it could have been much worse.

"So, I guess it's a house arrest for you now," Cliona said with a roll of her eyes, "good luck with that."

"It's only for thirty days," the officer interjected, clearly trying to soften the blow of the situation, "and if you follow the rules and stay out of trouble, you'll be free to go where you want after that, at least within the UK."

You couldn't help but feel a wry smile creeping up on your face, thinking about all the things you would be able to do once this house arrest was lifted.

But for now, you had to follow the rules and make the best of a less than ideal situation.

"Mr Murphy, are you happy to sign for this?" the officer asked Cillian, handing him the paperwork related to your bail conditions. Cillian looked down at the documents, his brow furrowing slightly as he read over the terms.

"Sure," he then said, signing his name with a flourish before looking at the monitor with disdain while the officer turned it on, causing it to light up around your ankle.

"What a strange contraption," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he handed it back to the officer who was quick to leave shortly after that.

"I should probably find my room and get unpacked before mum gets home. I know how much she hates mess," you said as soon as the officer drove off and Cillian nodded in agreement.

"Of course, you can use your old room, it hasn't changed much," he said before picking up your large backpack and guiding you upstairs.

"You know I could have carried this, right?" you remarked to Cillian as you watched him struggle with your backpack, his face turning slightly red with the strain.

He chuckled good-naturedly. "I know, but it's no trouble, really," he said as he adjusted the weight of the bag on his shoulder.

You nodded silently, following him as he took you to your old room, which was still located at the far end of the hallway, as it had been before.

He opened the door for you, stepping aside so you could enter first.

As you stepped over the threshold, your senses were immediately bombarded by a whirlwind of emotions – nostalgia, bitterness, and a strange undercurrent of longing.

You had spent countless nights in that room, sitting by the window, watching the stars through the cold glass, dreaming of the day when you could escape the confines of that house after finding out that your mother wanted a divorce. But then again. you were older now and none of this mattered anymore. Now, it was somewhere to sleep for the next thirty days, and, after that, you knew that you would be evaluating your options. You left your camera bag by the door but the moment you turned around you caught Cillian's gaze, and you could have sworn that there was something tender hidden deep within the blue recesses of his eyes, like a secret too precious to be shared with the world.

"I'm glad to see that it's still the same," you muttered to yourself, as you placed your other smaller bag onto the bed.

Cillian chuckled lightly, reminding you that he was still standing there, a few feet behind you.

"I'll let you get settled in now," he said with a warm smile. "Dinner is at seven, if you want to join us. Your mother should be home by six," Cillian added, before walking out of the room, leaving you to your own devices.

"Thank you Cillian," you called after him, letting the moment linger for a second, as a chance to catch your breathe and let your thoughts reel.

The air in the room felt heavy, the scent of old books and dust hung thick against it, like an unwelcome fog. The room was exactly how you remembered it, every piece of furniture, every painting on the walls. It was like going back in time.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, as you pulled back the window curtains, revealing the oak tree that stood tall and strong outside. The view had not changed one bit and this realization was as oddly comforting as it was heartbreaking.

You ran your hand over the windowsill, recalling how you used to sit there for hours on end just watching the world go by in this quaint little town on the outskirts of London. It triggered memories of when you had first noticed your mother changing, and her new job on the set of Peaky Blinders getting the better of her.

She was one of the production managers, young and enthusiastic, and of course, this is where she met Cillian.

It all went downhill from there, and as they got more and more involved, her behavior changed.

But you never thought to blame him for the failure of your parents' marriage. Their marriage was doomed for years before and yet, the way she put an end to it, by starting an affair with another man, was what really irked you.

Pushing aside these thoughts of the past, you forced yourself to focus on the present and this presence included staying here, with your part of your broken family, for the next thirty days and you knew that this was going to be tough.

And tough it was when, over dinner later that day, your mother criticized your life choices.

"You know that none of this would have happened if you had decided to live a normal life," she charged at you between bites of roast chicken and boiled potatoes. "Finishing college, finding a real job, staying out of trouble...," she continued on, and her voice was sharp and condescending.

How many times had you heard her repeat the same things, trying to mold you in her image, trying to give you the role that she had always wanted for herself? You swallowed hard, keeping your composure even as the anger boiled inside you.

"Photography is not a career. It's an art and art doesn't pay the bills," your mother added with disdain.

"Well, art sure pays your bills, because you did not work for years and still have a roof over your head because your husband clearly earns enough money acting," you replied calmly, taking a sip of your water. You glanced at Cillian, who was sitting quietly, seemingly lost in thought. Sadie, however, was busy coloring with crayons, oblivious to the tension around her.

"That's different," your mother retorted, frowning at you. "Cillian is smart about his work while you, on the other hand, are reckless," she continued on, causing Cillian to sigh heavily.

"Marion, enough," he simply said, shaking his head probably taking pity in you and your current situation. "Can't we just enjoy our meal together as a family?" he then asked, and your mother huffed but said nothing more.

The rest of the meal passed in silence, with only Sadie occasionally breaking the awkward atmosphere with her chatter.

After dinner, you offered to help Cillian with the dishes, stacking the rinsed off plates

by the sink while he loaded them into the dishwasher. As he worked, you couldn't help but notice the way his sleeves were rolled up his arms and his hands moved with ease, his fingers deftly maneuvering the utensils as he placed them in their designated spots in the dishwasher. He had incredible hands, almost perfect, and whilst this was a small thing, it was also oddly intimate, and you felt the heat creeping up to your cheeks as you watched him.

You shook your head slightly, mentally chastising yourself for reacting in such a way.

Cillian was your stepfather, nothing more, and yet there was no denying the way your heart skipped a beat when his hand brushed against yours as you both reached for the same dish.

He smiled at you as he caught you looking, and your face flushed with heat.

"Thanks for helping me with these," Cillian then said as he closed the dishwasher with a soft click. He wiped his hands on a nearby towel and turned to face you, his eyes finding yours. "And, you know, I'm sorry about the whole house arrest thing. If there's anything I can do to make it easier for you, just let me know."

His words caught you off guard. It had been a long time since anyone had extended their help to you without expecting something in return. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Thank you," you finally managed to say. "But it's fine," you nodded. "Thank you for letting me stay here," you added astutely, trying to put a positive spin on the situation.

Cillian gave a slight smile, "Of course," he then said before

turning to walk back towards the living room. "I better go keep your mother company," he said, pausing for a moment before adding, "And, I meant what I just said about the house arrest, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask me."

Left alone in the kitchen, you couldn't help but replay that moment over and over again in your mind. You tried to shake it off as just a kind gesture and not something more, but something about the way he looked at you left you questioning yourself, leaving a strange flutter in your chest.

Shaking of these thoughts, you went to your room in order to find something to read or maybe even draw. But of course, your mother had got rid of most of your art supplies when you moved out, claiming that it was all just a waste of money.

Thus, after you got changed into a singlet and some PJ shorts, you made your way back downstairs, recalling a few large shelves stacked with books in the study, which was locate right next to the living room.

Cillian was still sitting with your mother on a comfortable couch but, much to your surprise, there was a large gap between them. He was reading a book while she watched some reality TV show with her uncritical gaze.

When you entered the room, Cillian looked up from his book and his eyes were immediately drawn to you, taking in your form, even though there was nothing particularly sexy about what you were wearing.

He felt the heat grow in his chest, dimming his thoughts and distracting him from the lines of text that he had been attempting to read which, to him, was a strange sensation and not one he had expected.

Thinking that you had gone unnoticed, you walked into the study and towards one of the large bookshelves before flicking through the spines of the countless novels stacked up haphazardly along the rows.

But then, suddenly, you heard a familiar voice from behind you.

"Can't find anything interesting?" Cillian asked, making you jump and drop the book you had been holding in your hands and, almost simultaneously, you dropped to your knees to pick it up, your heads bumping into each other.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, your hands flying up to your forehead instinctively as you tried to steady the pounding that had started there.

"No, it's my fault," Cillian apologized, his voice close behind you and he put his hand on your shoulder, causing tingles to run down your spine. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said as you turned and looked up at him, your eyes meeting briefly.

"I was trying to find a novel and, god, there are so many to choose from in here," you added, gesturing towards the towering bookshelf that seemed to stretch up towards the high ceiling.

Cillian chuckled, "Well, I do read a lot, but don't worry, I can give you a few recommendations if you want them," he said, a playful twinkle in his eye.

"I would love some recommendations, actually," you said, your face lighting up. "Something about, I don't know, human nature I suppose. I love reading stories about conflicted individuals or history," you said, with a light shrug of your shoulders.

Cillian smiled at your answer, "Did you read the Grass Arena?" he asked, his voice full of curiosity.

You nodded, "Yes, I did. The story was dark but tantalizing," you mentioned, leaving Cillian a little surprised. "I think it's really good book," you smiled, causing Cillian to furrow his eyebrows.

"A really good book huh?" he echoed, a gentle laugh escaping his lips. "It's one of the best, I think. John Healy's work should be regarded as an invaluable contribution to literature," he declared, and you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, momentarily getting lost in his bright blue eyes.

"Okay, I agree. It's probably in my top ten," you whispered, before shaking yourself out of your trance-like state, adding, "So, any other recommendations then?"

Cillian nodded, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he guided you towards a different bookshelf.

"I think you might like this one," he said as he pulled out a tattered copy of 'On the Road' by Jack Kerouac, the pages yellowed with age. "I know it's a classic, but it's always a good read and you love travelling, so if you haven't read it yet, you should," he added, his voice full of warmth.

You took the book from him gratefully while inadvertently brushing against his hand. Your palms grew warm and tingly, causing you to look up at him with wide eyes. Cillian's eyes locked with yours and there was a charge between you, a current thrumming beneath the surface that tickled your skin.

"Uhm, thank you ," you mumbled, sliding the book from his grip and stepping back. He nodded, seeming to understand the sudden need for space.

"Sure thing," he said, before turning to head back to the living room. "Goodnight, Y/N," he told you and you nodded, taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart before tucking the book under your arm and heading to your bedroom.

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queenie-avenue · 1 year ago

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Terms and Conditions Apply.

💌 ⤻ THE CEO, ADRIAN HOUDE

—> you're the sweet little intern, and he's the big bad wolf who wants to eat you up.

⤻ reader is written as a female, yandere male, age gap, power dynamic, toxic obsession, slightly suggestive, slight financial abuse, set in london, this is a drabble but full fics of him will be made in the future

🦋 ⤻ archives.

TOP TEN BACHELORS NEAR YOU!

1. Adrian Houde.

Tall, Handsome, Rich, Successful, Ambitious. Ask anyone with more than half a braincell and they will immediately tell you that all these traits are what Adrian Houde has! Born from the rich Houde Family known for their luxury fashion products, he had risen the ranks as CEO of his family's company a few years back.

And boy oh boy, has he made himself known. From various (fake) scandals of him dating various women, to his success in the market in revolutionising his family's industry in fast fashion but still remaining loyal to his grandmother's routes as a custom tailor who first gained traction in France.

Perhaps Mister Houde's only flaw is that he has been on this bachelor list for far too long! He's already in his mid-30s, can you believe this guy has been single for so long?

So, to the lady who catches his eye, good luck surviving all the jealous women who are going to come after you, sweetheart!

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Adrian Houde is a proud man. I mean, who wouldn't be, right? He was successful, and rich, and practically everyone — regardless of gender or age — wanted to be with him or be like him. He was the pinnacle of a great man, just like his father had said he would be.

So why was it that when you entered the office, looking like a lost little puppy dog, that you captured his interest immediately. Perhaps it was the coffee stains on your skirt and the way your eyes sparkled with desire for greatness. He had seen that spark many times before. In his own eyes, actually. From the moment he saw himself in the mirror as a teen who became aware of the legacy on his shoulders, he knew he was bound for greatness. And you, a simple woman, of all people, carried that same determination and ambition within those cute eyes of yours.

You couldn't blame him for being intrigued by you.

Especially when you looked at him with so much fear in your eyes he couldn't help but laugh.

"I am so sorry, sir- I had no idea anyone was in the meeting room this early." You apologised frantically, holding a bunch of papers and a small, slightly shabby notebook.

"No, no." Adrian voice was smooth and sweet, a mixture of his French accent and his London boy accent he had gotten from the years of being raised in London. "Don't apologise. I was a bit too early to the meeting room, it seems." He said, taking his hands out of the pockets of his suits, raising out his hand towards you.

"Adrian Houde." He introduced out of courtesy.

Hurriedly, you rushed to take his hand, firmly shaking it like you had been taught.

You touch sent shivers down his spine. Was it because your hands were cold or was it something else about you?

Either way, he liked it.

"[y/n] [l/n], sir. It's a pleasure to meet you." You smiled at him, that glow from your eyes never fading.

"[y/n] [l/n]," he repeated, allowing the syllables to roll down his tongue like something falling down the stairs, bouncing. "A pretty name, for a pretty girl." He chuckled cooly as he pulled his hand away.

"I've never seen you before, Miss [y/n]. Are you new?" He inquired.

"Ah, I'm an intern. I just- uh, got posted here recently." You smiled. "I'm a fashion design major."

He couldn't help but be a bit disappointed by that. You were a fashion design major, which meant that you and him would probably not see each other often unless he kept paying visits to the fashion department.

"Wonderful. It's nice to see such wonderful young minds in my company." The older man said as he adjusted the cuffs of his suit with a relaxed grin. "I just know you'll do great in this company."

That blush on your cheeks after he complimented you drove him crazy.

That was how your first meeting concluded.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

You were so intriguing that Adrian just couldn't keep his mind off you. The moment he returned to his office, he called up his secretary and immediately requested for your file.

When he got it, he couldn't help but obsess over it. Your portfolio was so perfect. From all your university extracurriculars to all your little quirks that the intreviewers had noted down, they were all there for him to overanalyse and understand. Your designs, he had to say, surpassed his grandmother's when she first started out the business.

His fingers traced past all the small details of the sketches of the dresses and suits you made and he wondered what you would look like as a model. Sure, you were the artist, but what if you were a muse?

He couldn't help but imagine you draped in fabrics, nothing else underneath.

He shook his head out of it.

Where was all this coming from? He was a gentleman, his grandmother had taught him to be one.

Brushing those thoughts aside, he went back to admiring your work with a smile.

Indeed, you were an asset he couldn't lose.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Afterwards, he invested a lot of time into you. He would always drop by to the studio to talk to the head fashion designers then he would come find you, especially during your break where no one else would see you.

He disliked seeing you with others, terrified that someone else might steal his skilled intern away. No, he couldn't let any business rivals take you away from him.

Or at least, that was his justification.

Adrian would always watch you sketch your dresses behind you till you noticed and promptly let out a yelp. He enjoyed that fear in your eyes but what he enjoyed even more was the constant ambition sparkling in your pupils.

Right, you were his intern and his future designer. It was normal for him to be so invested in your growth.

After all, he was a gentleman. His grandmother had emphasised him to be in all his teachings, so this wasn't wrong. He wasn't preying on the cute intern because he wanted her. No, no, he was being a good boss by observing your actions and your growth.

Another defense as to why he began to nick your drawing pens away.

He would always replace them by gifting you more expensive pen though, a gift for you "allowing" him to have a close-up of the materials you use.

Plus, his future designer deserved the best.

You were his, after all.

"You lost another pen? No worries, I can gift you this one. Hm? Don't worry about it. Think of this as... an investment on your career."

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captainmalewriter · 2 years ago

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The Body Sculptor

Commission Story

"And now, ladies and gentlemen of the crowd...” the MC paused as he spoke over the mic at the International Body Sculptors Competition. The air in the room was electrified from the audience’s anticipation. Then, after teasing them long enough, the MC continued. “Let’s give a warm welcome to our next contestant Kim Jae Eon from Korea!!”

With that, Jae walked out onto the stage and was immediately greeted with loud cheers from the crowd. The young Korean man was dressed in nothing but a white pair of shorts and a generous amount of body oil. Although Jae was just a rookie in the bodybuilding scene, it was clear that he had the makings of a champion with the reception he had received in the minor leagues.

Jae stood at center stage with muscles fully flexed as the audience took in the glorious sight of his glistening body. Countless men and women were shouting their support for the rising Korean bodybuilder. Some even wolf whistled as Jae showed off his physique.

Although Jae was able to keep a straight face as he competed, he couldn't help but smirk on the inside. All his hard work and commitment had paid off. With a jacked body combined with a handsomely cute face like his, Jae had his first bodybuilding competition in the bag. With that thought boosting his ego, Jae struck a pose to show off his melon sized biceps. The audience's cheers only grew louder as the judges gave Jae perfect scores across the board.

While Jae Eon and the rest of the body builders were competing live in London, not everyone interested in spectating had the financial means to be there in-person. There were two people in particular who were very interested in the body sculptors competition.

One of those two people did not exist beyond official government records. No occupation. No known family. No social life of any kind. They preferred to live a life of solitude with minimal interaction with the outside world. Partially because they greatly valued their peace of mind, and partially because living under the radar made their line of work much easier to manage. This person was best known by their online alias The Body Sculptor. The title was self explanatory; they were self employed as a bodysuit maker. The price on their custom made bodysuits usually ran somewhere in the thousands, but the extremely life-like quality of the suits made every penny worth it.

But why would The Body Sculptor be watching the international bodybuilding competition? Simple. The Body Sculptor's latest client Val had requested a custom bodysuit of one Korean model Kim Jae Eon. Val was an ordinary guy with an ordinary life. Although Val had many man crushes, the muscular and cute Jae Eon never failed to catch his attention. After stumbling upon The Body Sculptor's hidden website, Val had been going back and forth on whether or not to get a bodysuit for well over half a year now. He had the financial means to meet the steep price, but he was always unsure and always ended up backing out last minute. In the end, Val made his decision and went all in. Now all he had to do was wait until his custom bodysuit came in the mail. Luckily, he had Jae's competition performance to keep him satisfied until it came. Seeing the buff model flex his muscles reassured Val that he had made the right choice.

The days went by quickly. Then, one day, Val woke up to a package delivered notification. He smiled, and hurried to pick up his mail. While he had a few envelopes waiting for him, he ignored them all once he saw the hefty box with his name on it. Val picked it up and hurried back inside.

Val wasted no time in getting out a sharp knife to open the box. He tore it open like an excited child on Christmas. Inside the package was a postcard that said ‘thank you for ordering’ on it. Val grinned as he picked it up and tossed it to the side. Underneath the postcard was a black pull string bag. Val proceeded to pull it out. The bag was surprisingly heavy, and Val could feel his fingers sink into it as he used his strength to pull it out of the box.

He then opened the strings and pulled out a life size bodysuit of Kim Jae Eon. Val propped up the bodysuit against the wall. Thankfully, the little air the suit had inside helped keep it standing. Val took a step back to admire the craftsmanship. He was impressed (as well as somewhat horrified) at just how realistic the bodysuit looked to the original. All the facial features and bodily details such as the tattoos were exactly as Val remembered them. If it weren’t for the lack of breathing, he would’ve believed it was the real Jae standing right in front of him!

A grin spread across Val’s face as he clapped his hands together and smacked his lips in anticipation. He used his fingers to trace along the sharp jawline of the bodysuit but quickly withdrew his hand when he felt the rubbery material. Val stood back with a look of contempt on his face.

“Man, seriously? $2000 for a rubber suit?”

Val let out a sigh as he stared at the replica of Jae Eon. He knew it’d be a mistake to expect actual synthetic skin on a bodysuit, but he also expected something better than just plain old rubber. He bent down to take a closer look at the bodysuit. No matter how much he scrutinized it, it looked just like Jae Eon no matter how much he stared it. But no attention to detail could change the disappointment Val felt for the building materials. He would have to send it back.

Val grabbed onto the rubber bodysuit, ready to repackage it. But as he held the replica in his hands, an idea had struck him.

“Well...” he thought out loud to himself. “I already bought it, and it’s already here... I might as well try it on at least once.”

After rationalizing his thoughts, Val proceeded to try on the bodysuit. He laid it out on the floor. He squeezed out any air it had inside. Val couldn’t help but feel like he was handling a giant pool ring, but he ignored the feeling and pressed on. Then, using his hands to stretch out the mouth, Val started to stick his feet inside. The rubbery material was cool to the touch, and although the bodysuit was tailored to his exact measurements, it slid on like a glove.

Val continued pushing the rest of his body into the bodysuit. It was a slow but steady process as the bodysuit accepted Val in its embrace. His legs filled in the bodysuit’s legs fully. The bodysuit's dick fit over his like a custom made sleeve. The rest of bodysuit filled in nicely too; torso to torso, arms to arms, and finally, face to face. Val pulled on the bodysuit head like it was a mask, and the entire thing snapped into place with a latex like sound. It was a snug fit, but Val could feel himself moving inside the bodysuit. But as he adjusted to his new body, the bodysuit sprung to life as it started radiating a human’s warmth. Then, Val’s vision shifted from seeing through the eye holes of a mask to literally seeing with Jae’s eyes. He had become one with the bodysuit, taking on Jae’s identity for himself.

“No way... it worked!!” Val shouted out in his new voice. It caught him off guard at first to hear Jae’s accented voice instead of his own, but he quickly accepted it. It was what he wanted after all.

He ran to his bathroom for the mirror. Surely enough, his eyes weren’t playing a cruel trick on him. The mirror showed Jae Eon staring back at him instead of his own complexion. Val smirked with Jae’s face, and it hit him that he was actually living out his body swap fantasy. All that was left was to admire the goods, but this time with a more personal perspective.

“Oh man... Check out these muscles!”

Val flexed his right arm while using his left to feel his new, hard muscles. He was in awe the entire time he fully inspected his body. With him inside, the rubbery feel of the bodysuit had transformed into actual skin. He took a whiff of the new him and was pleasantly surprised to smell the scent of a freshly cleaned man oozing with testosterone.

Val could feel the peach fuzz hair and bulging veins as he ran his fingers up his arms and down his torso. He cupped his new pecs and gave them a good rubbing down. He could the weight of the beefy pectorals on his chest as he bounced them with ease. Every muscle in his new body was well defined and toned to the max. Val already enjoyed the view from the outside, but with the bodysuit on, his pleasure only doubled. That cute face and muscular body were all his.

Val abruptly stopped his self worship session when that last thought crossed his mind. He had no problem keeping up the maintenance his new body would demand of him, but he began to question just how real the bodysuit was. Fortunately, he knew exactly how to test it.

Val went straight to his living room and kneeled in front of a storage chest he kept there. He opened it and pulled out a few dumbbells he kept in there. Val had bought them to do some light at home workouts, but he wanted to test his new body’s strength to see if it was just for show or not. Val noticed the difference right away. With his new muscular body, picking up the weights was as easy as picking up paper! But despite the successful experiment, Val wasn’t satisfied just yet.

With the heaviest weights in hand, Val proceeded to do the hardest work outs he knew how to do. These were the exercises he saved for when he was feeling particularly daring. But what was a challenge for his usual body was nothing but an ordinary workout for his new body. Val worked up a sweat and even built up a pump inside his new body, making the muscles bulge out even more than before. Only after the workout was Val fully content with his latest big purchase.

And so, the days continued to go by. Val continued to live his everyday life while keeping the Jae Eon bodysuit ready to play whenever he was in the mood. At first, Val kept the bodysuit as a special piece only to be used for special occasions. But then Val started using the bodysuit more regularly- to work, to eat, to socialize, to exercise, he even went to sleep with it on! He donned the bodysuit more and more until he spent entire days as his new identity Park Seo Joon.

"우와! 이 허벅지 근육 좀 보세요! 나는 거대하다!!" (Wow! Just look at these thigh muscles! I'm huge!!)

Val showered inside the bodysuit too. The flowing, warm water ran through his hair and onto his broad shoulders. All of his limbs were beefy slabs of muscle, and Val enjoyed slathering himself thoroughly with soap as he washed up.

The light dusting of black pubic hair coupled with a thick, veiny cock with a bright pink dick head was definitely one of his favorite parts of his new body. It would always harden whenever he showered, and occasionally he would indulge it by stroking one out. He could hardly believe just how amazing it felt to jerk off in the bodysuit. At first, jerking off in the bodysuit felt like jerking off but with a tight dick sleeve wrapped around his member. But soon enough, Val couldn’t even tell the difference between his own cock and the bodysuit’s. Jerking off was just like the real thing, if not better!

Once he was done showering, Val continued about his day. But as he sat down to watch his favorite TV show, he quickly became bothered by the fact that it was in English. As the time went by with the bodysuit on, his grasp of the English language faded away until he eventually got fed up and set everything to Korean. It was the language he was most fluent in after all.

Val fixed the language settings on his TV and sat back down on his leather couch. While watching, his phone rang. He hit the pause button and picked it up.

"안녕하세요? 말하는 박서준." (Hello? Park Seo-joon speaking.)

Seo Joon nodded as he listened closely to what the caller had to say. Then his eyes lit up. Apparently, his photos had been trending in South Korea's pop culture scene. Enough so that a social media agent from South Korea had reached out to sign him on as a new social media star!

He looked out the window as he thought about the enticing offer, though quite frankly, he already had his answer. He agreed to the offer and moved to South Korea under his new identity, leaving behind his old one Val. There, Seo Joon lived a comfortable life being adored by people who loved his handsome, muscular, attractive body just as much as he did.

Thank you for supporting!!

#male body swap #male body switch #male bodysuit #bodysuit tf #muscular #race change #permanent change #commission story #commission

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formulauno98 · 2 years ago

Text

Once Upon a Time in France | Chapter Eight

You finally had some time alone with your beau but things were almost too perfect, it was inevitable that they were going to unravel.

Word Count: 11.1k

Warnings: This chapter is spicy spice. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys and girls) 🌶

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is married in this alt-universe. Sorry for the incredibly long hiatus, Chapter 9 will be up asap.

SUNDAY PM

Flying Easyjet from London Luton to Nice reminded you exactly how lucky you were to have the luxury of frequently flying privately. Although a short flight, you found yourself squeezed between two businessmen, each off-putting for their own reasons and you found yourself counting down the minutes until landing. The man to the left of you, who had the honour of having the window seat, was watching a movie on his iPad. No big deal you would think, except for the fact that he was watching it on speaker mode and it had some dubious bedroom scenes. To your right, on the aisle seat, was another suited and booted older man. On spotting you were his seat neighbour he’d proceeded to try and chat you up, not taking the hint that you weren’t in the slightest bit interested.

Glancing at your watch you saw there were only twenty minutes left, the crew would be preparing for landing any minute now. Toto had offered to collect you from the airport and you were looking forward to spending some real time with him, away from the race track and more importantly, away from prying eyes.

– – –

The plane having landed on time, you made it through security in record timing and had even had the luxury of your luggage coming out of the carousel first. As you made your way into Arrivals you were suddenly nervous, you were going to spend a week alone with Toto. Although you worked together and were constantly stealing moments, you hadn’t spent an extended amount of time with just the two of you and you hoped that things would not be awkward.

Making your way through the throng of people standing waiting outside customs you spotted Toto in a flash, his imposing height always a dead giveaway. He flashed a charming grin as you approached him, bending down to plant a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“How was the flight?” he asked, as he took your large suitcase and large Longchamp tote off of your hands, “Jessas Maria, what do you have in this, bricks?”

Laughing you replied, “Make-up, shampoo, the essentials. And it was okay thanks, I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

Toto shook his head, “You and your essentials. Not at all, I’ve only been here a few minutes, it was perfect timing. I parked just outside, do you want to go?”

Following Toto as he started to make a move you couldn’t stop smiling. It was kind of him to come and collect you from the airport as it was always a hassle, no matter where you were in the world.

“Excuse me, Toto?” a voice called out from your right-hand side. It was the sleazy man from the plane.

Toto whipped his head around, “Hi, can I help you?”

“Well, I just wanted to say I’m a big fan. Could I please take a photo?” the man got closer, “I was sitting next to your wife on the plane.” He grinned at you hopefully.

“My wife?” said Toto, raising an eyebrow, “Y/N is my colleague.”

The man’s face reddened, “Oh, I see. I’m sorry, I saw you kiss her so thought you were married…” he proceeded to turn to you “You didn’t seem interested on the plane so I put two and two together.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make.” you smiled politely, not wanting to embarrass Toto, always mindful that one bad fan encounter could end up flashed across the news.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt your day,” he replied, taking out his phone and standing next to Toto, still hopeful for a selfie. Laden down with your baggage Toto stood there awkwardly as the man struggled to fit him in frame.

“Could you possibly take the photo for me?” he asked you.

“Of course,” you said, again with a neutral smile.

You took a few, trying to make sure your tote bag was out of frame just in case anyone from the team were to see and handed the phone back.

“Amazing, thank you so much,” the man said.

“You’re welcome, nice to meet you,” said Toto with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, sending the man off on his merry way.

As you crossed the street to the car park you turned to Toto. “He was such a creep on the plane, he kept asking for my number.”

Toto grimaced, “I could tell, he was staring at you. His eyes lit up when I said you weren’t my wife.”

“Odd,” you said as you followed Toto towards his car, a surprisingly nondescript GLC, Toto looked troubled. “Y/N.”

“Yes,” you replied, curious about what he was about to ask.

“Does that always happen to you?”

“What?”

“Men hitting on you?”

“Why?”

“Just curious,” he said, setting your bag down on top of your suitcase as he unlocked the car.

You couldn’t help but smile as you clocked that it wasn’t any old GLC, but a top-of-the-range AMG line one. Of course, Toto would choose that.

“This is nice, where have you been hiding this?” You said as you settled into the luxurious quilted leather passenger seat.

“It’s actually not mine, they are letting me try it for the weekend,” Toto said looking shifty as he slid into the driver's seat beside you.

“Trying to impress me with a rental Mr Wolff?” You laughed, grabbing his hand playfully.

“Is it working?” He replied with a smirk, reaching across to caress your face lightly, “I’ve missed you Y/N.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You said fondly, turning towards him for a sneaky kiss, aware that although you were not at work, you were very much out in the open in the airport car park.

A classic man, Toto was not on the same wavelength about discretion and passionately cupped your face, drawing you in for a deeper kiss before breaking apart and adding breathily, “I’ve missed this.”

Blushing, you replied, “Me too. It was a long week without you.”

“Tell me about it,” said Toto, squeezing your knee gently before turning back towards the steering wheel “Shall we make a move?”

“Sounds good to me,” you said with a smile. You were finally alone with Toto, mostly away from prying eyes and able to gauge what to make of this budding relationship.

– – –

As you sped along the coastal road towards Monaco you glanced out of the window at the sparkling blue sea below. You flew through the sleepy fishing port of Villefranche-sur-Mer, the hillside retreat of Eze and the luxurious town of Cap d’Ail in record timing, listening to the dulcet tones of French radio and Toto’s local tour guide titbits along the way.

The reason why you had this time in Monaco was to oversee another Drive to Survive shoot with Toto. The production crew wanted to spend time with him in his hometown, away from the hustle and bustle of a race weekend. You’d told Sophie to tell the company travel agent that you were staying with a friend in Monaco, which wasn’t too far from the truth.

As you started the ascent into Monaco, through the winding network of underground tunnels you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to the first time you’d come here. It was your third race with the team and your first sponsor dinner and had been the beginning of the end when it came to your feelings for Toto. As soon as you set eyes on him, waiting in your hotel lobby, dressed up for the evening, you were instantly smitten.

It wasn’t long before you reached an imposing apartment building overlooking the wide expanse of beach. Toto slowed down, indicating to turn down what looked like a dead end.

“Is this going to be some kind of supervillain lair?” you said with a laugh.

Smirking, Toto reached for his key fob and pushed a button, “Perhaps…”

Your eyes lit up as what looked like a wall opened up to reveal a neat underground parking garage. “Okay, you were not playing.”

“Of course not,” Toto said with a smile, driving into the gap that had just appeared as if by magic.

“So this is where you live huh?” you said curiously, eyeing up the impressive row of cars parked in the garage.

“Yes, I live in this car park,” said Toto with a deadpan face.

“Very funny,” you said.

Toto smiled before frowning slightly, his brow furrowing, “However, I would like to forewarn you, I have not done much with the place. It came furnished so I didn’t see the point of spending more money on furniture I barely use.”

Surprised by Toto’s admission you smiled, “I’m sure it’s beautiful, and I’m here to see you, not judge you on your interior design skills. That will be my next visit.”

Toto laughed as he parked the car effortlessly, pulling up in between two cars that were hidden under fabric covers yet suspiciously sports car shaped. “Okay, well I hope you will visit again after this one.”

‘Let’s see.” you said, waggling your eyebrow at Toto before hopping out of the now stationary car.

“You are awful sometimes,” he said, rushing around to open the boot and retrieve your luggage.

“Thank you, Toto,” you said, smiling up at your tall beau as he set your suitcase gently down on the concrete floor.

Just as you made to grab the handle, he batted your hand away, “Let me take it, it’s heavy.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, knowing full well he would not allow you to carry your own luggage.

Your response was met with a raised eyebrow as Toto closed the boot, scooped up your tote and rolled your suitcase towards a small door to the left of where you were parked.

Crossing into a compact but luxe lift lobby Toto pressed his key fob to a panel and the lift pinged.

“Let me guess, this is your own private lift?” you said, following him into the small space.

“Well it’s convenient,” he said sheepishly.

“Okay Mr Bigshot,” you said with a smile. It was easy to forget just how wealthy Toto was at times.

Now his turn to blush, Toto added, “I hope you don’t find it ostentatious. I bought it for the view.”

Just as you were about to ask what the view was, your question was answered. The lift door opened to reveal a spacious living area, furnished very tastefully in cream and blue, a nod to the nautical location. The back wall of the room was entirely glass, opening out onto a sweeping balcony with a panoramic view of the sea.

“Well, I can see why!” You exclaimed, taking a step into the living area, “It’s beautiful Toto.”

Looking relieved, Toto followed you out of the lift, placing his hand on the small of your back, “It’s not bad. Let me show you around. I want you to feel at home here.”

You smiled, “I’m sure that will be a struggle.”

– – –

Toto proceeded to show you around his surprisingly spacious bachelor pad. There was another sitting area to the side of the one the lift had brought you into, cosier with a large TV and an L-shaped sofa decked out with blankets and pillows, perfect for a movie night. He had a small but well-stocked kitchen diner with a large marble island in the middle that looked out onto the sea, and more glass walls that opened out onto an outdoor barbecue area.

There was also a formal dining room, a very impressive corner office with yet more glass and two ensuite guest bedrooms for his children. Just as you were starting to wonder where Toto’s bedroom was, your question was answered as he took you up a small set of stairs to a second floor. This wasn’t just any apartment, this was a duplex.

Toto’s bedroom had the best view of all, perched higher than the other rooms, you could see the entire expanse of the bay, from Monte Carlo to Roquebrune Cap Martin. His bed was simple but cloud-like, with white-striped hotel-esque sheets and fluffy pillows. And best of all, he had a large bathtub at one end, ideally placed to soak and enjoy the view.

“Toto, your place is insane.” You said as he opened up a set of doors to reveal another small terrace, this time furnished with two daybeds and a telescope.

“Thank you… I think.” He said, “As I said, it needs a woman’s touch, it came with all of this furniture and I didn’t change much.”

You laughed, “Honestly, I wouldn’t have changed anything, whoever designed it had excellent taste.”

“Well I’m glad you like it, I’d like to spend more time here with you.” He said, wrapping his arm around your waist, “Do you want to grab a bite to eat? Or we can have something simple and eat in?”

Tired from your flight you were glad he was open to staying in, “Maybe tonight we stay in and then I’ll be fresh for tomorrow?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Toto, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I have everything we’d need for a charcuterie board, or I can cook a steak frites?”

“Ooh, you’re so fancy with your charcuterie boards…” you laughed, cuddling up to the tall Austrian, “I’m happy with either, I’m intrigued actually by the charcuterie board.”

“Intrigued? It’s ham and cheese with some grapes.” He replied with a laugh, “I have baguette too.”

“Are you propositioning me?” You laugh.

“Maybe, would you like that?” He said, with a growl, grabbing your ass cheek as you made your way down the stairs towards the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t mind.” You said, turning to face him.

“Well, it would be rude not to then.” He said and in one deft movement, picked you up, carried you all the way to the kitchen, placing your legs akimbo on the kitchen island.

For once the height difference worked, with Toto barely having to bend down to meet your lips with his, feverishly running his hands up and down your thighs and beyond.

Deepening the kiss, you ran your hands up and down Toto’s back, bringing him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist and feeling him growing increasingly harder.

Breaking the kiss and coming up for air, you caressed Toto’s cheek lightly, “Will you fuck me right here?”

Toto’s eyes narrowed with lust, wordlessly answering you as he unbuckled his chinos, pushed your panties to one side and pushed his cock into you mercilessly.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, still not fully used to his impressive size.

Toto’s demeanour switched instantly, his eyes transforming from lust to concern as he stilled inside you, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

“Oh my gosh, don’t be silly, you’re just big!” You said, meeting him once more for a kiss.

“Well please tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop,” he said, his brown eyes crinkled with kindness.

“Deal.” You said, kissing him once more before adding, “But please for God’s sake move.”

“If you’re sure?” He said, raising an eyebrow as he gently pulled out and pushed back in, “Is this okay?”

“Now that is perfect.” You said, “Keep doing that.”

Toto continued to thrust into you, first of all with slow, shallow strokes, before switching up to a more rapid pace of deep and forceful fucking.

“Fuck, Toto, keep doing that and I’m almost there.” You exclaimed after one particularly head-spinning thrust.

“Mmm.” He said as he grabbed your breast in one hand and reached down with the other to draw circles on your clit, continuing to pump in and out.

“Fuck, Toto.” was all you managed to get out as he took you almost to the brink. It wasn’t long before you were seeing stars, and experiencing one of the most intense orgasms of your life. As you came around his cock, Toto slowed down, mindful that once again you were being reckless and fucking without protection.

“Come on, I want you to cum too.” You said, mindful that he was near.

“But we need to be careful Y/N. I’m not as young as I was and I worry I can’t pull out in time.” Toto said, stilling inside you, coming to his senses.

“Well then, maybe you can cum somewhere else.” You said with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Oh really?” Toto said, still containing to lazily thrust in and out.

Shifting back, you pulled away from Toto, letting his cock fall out of you. Hopping down from the counter, you turned him around so that his back was now facing the counter, bending to take him in your mouth.

“Mmm,” you said as you struggled to fit it all in, gripping the base with one hand as you ran your tongue up and down.

“Hang on, do you want to move? This can’t be comfortable for you.” Said Toto, ever the worrier.

“Maybe to the couch?” You suggested as you came up for air and eyed up the white linen sofa in the corner of the kitchen.

“Perfect.” Said Toto, once again scooping you up in his arms and carrying you across the room. This time, however, he took a seat on the sofa, allowing you to perch on your knees in front of him.

“Mmm,” you said as you took his cock once again in your mouth, “This is much better.”

Toto groaned as you continued sucking and swirling and caressing his balls with one hand as you bobbed up and down.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so close.” Exclaimed Toto, “Fuck, I’m going to cum!”

He was clearly trying to be a gentleman and pull out but you were determined to swallow so you doubled down with your tongue, hoping he would let loose. Sure enough, he pumped into your mouth, leaving you gagging slightly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, that was a lot,” he said, rubbing his forehead as if he was back on planet Earth.

Wiping your mouth, you made your way back up onto the sofa, draping yourself across his chest as he tucked his cock back into his chinos.

“Don’t be silly, I wanted to do it.” you said, “Although we are both way too clothed for my liking.”

“But isn’t that half of the fun?” said Toto with a smirk. “Now when I look at my island I’ll think of you.”

You laughed, “Damn, why did we not do that at mine so I can do the same?”

“Well you can think of me when you use your closet.” replied Toto, getting up to move, “Now, I know you’ve just eaten but let’s get some food.”

“Jesus, what a line boss.” you said, rolling your eyes at him, following suit and getting up from the sofa “As long as I can have the other baguette you promised?”

MONDAY AM

Following on from your racy kitchen island encounter, you’d had your charcuterie board (which didn’t disappoint), unpacked your suitcase into Toto’s half-empty closet, watched a movie (Fast and Furious of course,) and then spent the night cuddled up to Toto in his supremely comfortable bed.

Waking up to the spectacular view you couldn’t believe that he so frequently chose to spend time in Oxfordshire over here.

“Toto, can I ask you something?” you said as you felt him stir beside you.

“Hmmm five minutes,” he said sleepily, turning the pillow back over his head.

You shook your head, still surprised by how much of a sleepyhead the seemingly regimented Team Principal secretly was. Trying your best not to wake him, you snuck out of bed, grabbing your trusty waffle bathrobe and padded down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

You’d barely been in there five minutes when a boxer-clad Toto emerged down the stairs, his hair rumpled with sleep and eyes screwed up as if he was barely awake.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” you said, “Do you want a tea or coffee?”

“Morning beautiful,” he said, making his way over to you to kiss you, “I’ll make a coffee don’t worry. I have some breakfast things too if you want.”

“Ah no worries, I’m happy with tea for now,” you said, cosying up to him before breaking free to pour your tea.

“Are you sure?” he said, as he busied himself making a coffee.

“Yeah, I’m not a big breakfast eater.”

“Hold on, I make you eat breakfast all the time, even in Austria,” he said, looking slightly horrified. “Are you just being polite?”

“No, I like it, I just never have time so have got used to not eating it. It’s a treat when we have our breakfast meetings,” you said, hoping to appease him.

“I’m not sure if I would call Austria a breakfast meeting,” he said with a smirk.

“Well, I can’t say I do those kinds of meetings with anybody else,” you replied, settling onto the stool at the kitchen island.

“Me neither,” Toto replied, as he poured his coffee.

“You know the team are onto you though,” you said, deciding now was the time to broach what Olivia had brought up in the motorhome in Austria.

“What do you mean?” said Toto, his head whipping around, now fully awake.

“Olivia overheard you telling Lewis about a new lady friend.”

Toto looked blindsided, “What did she overhear?”

Smiling, you decided to tell half the truth, “Just that you were seeing someone. I’m hoping you were talking about me, otherwise, this is hella awkward.”

Realisation dawned on Toto, “Oh, Lewis was asking me the other day. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have told him anything but he noticed I seemed happier and asked me outright if I had a new girlfriend.”

“Well I do feel guilty that George knows and he doesn’t.” you said, “I still wish Lara didn’t but I guess these things happen.”

Toto looked deep in thought, “Lewis doesn’t know it’s you. I just told him I’d met someone. I wouldn’t jeopardise your position in the team like that.”

“No no, don’t worry about it, Toto. I think it wasn’t ideal that Olivia overheard but again, these things can’t be helped,” you said, reaching over to squeeze Toto’s hand as he sat down beside you at the kitchen island.

“Indeed, but the rest of the team have noticed?” Toto said, looking deep in thought as he sipped his coffee.

“Oh don’t worry, they were all tipsy after Austria and speculating.” you paused, deciding whether or not it was a good idea for you to tell Toto about what Lara had said but decided ultimately it was not worth it, “It was nothing serious.”

“Ok, I trust your judgement on this. Just let me know if anything does get tricky,” he said reassuringly.

– – –

Having spent the morning working from one of Toto’s spare rooms and trying your best to avoid any video calls with anyone who would clock where you were, lunchtime had crept up. Toto had promised to take you to one of his favourite casual eateries if you both had time and thankfully it was looking likely that you would.

You were composing one last email when Toto came looking for you, having been working himself in his office.

“I hope you’re not working too hard,” he said as he stood behind you, rubbing your shoulders.

“You say that, but if I sacked off work, you’d notice,” you said, typing your sign-off and pressing send.

“That’s true, and that’s why you're my favourite Director of Communications,” he replied with a smirk.

“I’m the only Director of Communications,” you said, rolling your eyes and standing up to face Toto, “Do you want to go and grab some lunch?”

“For sure, we can go to the pizza place I know if you’d like?” said Toto, placing his hands on your waist, swaying your hips slightly.

“Sounds good to me, although you’re being very distracting,” you said, leaning into his broad chest.

“Good, that’s what I wanted to do, distract you from work,” he said, leaning down to kiss you.

“You are a terrible boss.” you said, kissing him back with enthusiasm, “And if you don’t stop distracting me, we’re never going to leave this room, let alone your house.”

“That’s true.” he said with a smirk, “Come on then, let’s go.”

– – –

Sitting down at the small table set for two in Toto’s chosen restaurant, you were acutely aware that this was the first time you’d gone out together as a couple, and not for something work-related. Sensing your awkwardness, Toto smiled at you from across the table, taking your hand in his reassuringly.

“Don’t look so nervous Y/N, I’m the same guy you were just kissing all but ten minutes ago,” he said.

“I’m not nervous, it’s just weird to be out like this,” you said, glancing around you as if you were half expecting the team or some journalist to jump out.

“Look, we’re doing this, and if someone sees us, so be it and we can say it’s a meeting if you feel more comfortable?” Toto said, his face etched with concern.

“No, it’s not like that. I’m happy to be out.” you said, squeezing Toto’s hand, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Me too,” said Toto, looking at you with the piercing glare you’d grown so fond of. “I think we should probably take a look at these menus, no?”

“Ooh yes, it all looks good though, what do you recommend?” you said, sneaking a look around at your fellow diners’ tables.

“Do you trust me to order for us?” asked Toto, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” you said, without batting an eyelid.

WEDNESDAY PM

The last two days with Toto had been bliss. Since your casual lunch date, you’d been out twice more, once for dinner, followed by a beach walk and once for brunch. It was official, you were dating for real. You were well aware of the stares that followed Toto wherever he went but thankfully, people in Monaco seemed relatively unbothered and there had only been one incident where a woman had rushed up and asked for a photo on the beach.

So far, the majority of the team remained unaware of your blossoming relationship and as much as you adored Toto, you felt it was wiser to keep it lowkey for now.

Toto was spending the morning filming with the Drive to Survive crew, this time, driving them around Monaco in his prized 300SL. Thankfully this meant that space was limited and you hadn’t had to ride along. You had, however, popped around to Lewis’ to go through press commitments.

When you had first accepted this role, you never in a million years would have dreamt that you would end up casually popping over to Lewis Hamilton’s house but life sometimes works in mysterious ways. At least that’s what you told yourself as you rang the buzzer at the bottom of his building, humorously labelled as “Roscoe,” after his beloved pet bulldog.

“Hey Y/N, it’s open come up!” came a voice through the loudspeaker. Lewis was an interesting character, who for all his fame and fortune, remained incredibly down to earth.

“Coming!” you said as you dashed through the unlocked door to the lift lobby. Like Toto, Lewis also had his own private lift, something that you were starting to learn was not uncommon in this funny little country full of far too rich people.

Making your way up, you glanced down to check your phone, half expecting to have heard from Pete, your Netflix nemesis, that Toto was being difficult. Thankfully there was radio silence, which you took to mean good news.

Soon enough you reached Lewis’ floor and the doors pinged open to reveal the enigmatic racing driver waiting for you.

“Hey! Long time no see!” he said warmly, stretching out his arms for a hug.

“Hey Lewis, I know it’s been a while. How’s everything?” you asked.

“I’m good thanks, just got back from a run.” he replied, “How are you? Enjoying Monaco?”

“Nice,” you said, glancing around at your surroundings. Lewis’ home was much more understated than Toto’s and you could tell that he was much younger from his decor choices. There was a life-sized Star Wars figurine in one corner and huge canvases and movie posters adorning the walls as far as the eye could see. “I’m good thanks, it’s been quite hectic but it’s good to get out here early. Toto is filming with Netflix again.”

“Glad to hear it, I hope Toto has been showing you around town?” Lewis said, before adding, “Can I get you a drink or anything?”

Smiling as you thought to yourself of the places Toto had shown you, you replied tactfully, “Yes, he’s shown me a few places. Maybe a cup of tea would be nice if you have one?”

“I’ve always got a cuppa!” said Lewis with a wink, “Come with me, let’s chat in the kitchen.”

Following Lewis down a short corridor, he brought you through into a small kitchen area, dark grey with black marble countertops, most definitely a bachelor pad.

“Ooh this is nice,” you said, “How long have you lived here?”

“Ah thank you, oh gosh like ten years?” replied Lewis, busying himself filling the kettle.

“Oh wow, ages then,” you replied, getting your laptop and notebook out to go through your agenda. “So where is good to run around here?”

“Ah there are so many coastal paths, I like the one just North of the harbour. It’s less hilly if you want to push.” he said, “Do you take milk and sugar?”

“That sounds cool, Toto hasn’t shown me those yet, I’ll have to get him on that!” you said, slightly forgetting that Lewis wasn’t fully aware of the extent of your relationship, “And just milk, please. Thanks so much.”

“Y/N. Can I ask you something?” said Lewis, suddenly turning to face you, his chocolate-brown eyes full of curiosity.

“Sure, what’s up?” you said, knowing what was coming next.

“Are you Toto’s new girlfriend?”

“Well…” you began, not sure what the best course of action was, not having discussed this with Toto.

“Knew it!” said Lewis, a broad grin breaking out across his face.

“Hey! I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to, your eyes betrayed you. I knew it, the way he looks at you.” Lewis said, somewhat smugly.

“Okay, well, girlfriend is a stretch, we are just at the very beginning of something. So I would appreciate it if you keep it to yourself,” you said, hoping that he would get the memo.

“Of course, I’m just happy for you.” Lewis said, “And for Toto, he’s been such a work robot these last few years, I’m always telling him to put himself out there.”

“Thank you, Lewis, I appreciate that,” you said smiling as he set a cup of tea down in front of you.

“What I wanna know is, how did it start? Who rizzed up who?” Lewis said, settling beside you with a cheeky glint in his eye, cup of tea at the ready.

“Oh my God, go ask Toto!” you said, laughing at Lewis’ gossipy tendencies.

“Ok, I will.” he said “I bet it was you. He’s weirdly shy.”

“Lewis!” you exclaimed, before sighing. “It was kind of me.”

“What do you mean, kind of?” he asked.

Sighing once again, you decided to tell the truth, “Right, please do not tell Toto I told you this. After the boat race in Canada, I went to his room to return his shirt I borrowed and one thing led to another.”

Lewis’s face was a picture, eyes wide and mouth open, “Oh my God, that’s why you didn’t come for dinner!?”

Giggling slightly you nodded, “Yup.”

“This is juicy.” he said, “Does anyone else know?”

“A few people have accidentally found out.”

“Oh my God, who?”

“You are such a gossip hound Lewis!” you said, taking a sip of tea, “George, Rosie and Lara.”

“George knows! Fuck I’m going to have words with him. How long has he known?” Lewis said, clearly put out that his younger teammate had gossip that he hadn’t.

“A few weeks, and don’t, I think he’s scarred for life.”

“Oh my God, did he walk in on you?”

“Not exactly...” you said, still cringing as you thought about what George and Rosie had overheard.

“I wanna know so bad!” said Lewis.

“He phoned Toto while we were together and Toto didn’t hang up properly so George and Rosie overheard everything that was going on.”

At this Lewis almost fell off of his stool, “No way! That’s hilarious. I bet they were so embarrassed, oh to be a fly on that wall.”

“Poor kids are scarred for life,” you said.

“So what about Lara, how does she know? I’m surprised she’s kept quiet, she loves gossip that girl.”

“Oh she’s trickier, she walked in on us in Toto’s office… and before you say anything I was just kissing him, nothing crazy. She went mental though and ever since keeps dropping hints to people. I thought Toto was going to fire her on the spot, he was livid at what she said.”

“Really?” asked Lewis, “Livid Toto is not someone I’d want to cross.”

“Yep, me neither,” you said, thinking back to the tense conversation in Toto’s office.

“So this is very exciting.” said Lewis, sipping his tea once again, “As I said, I’m happy for you both.”

“Thanks, Lewis, I appreciate it,” you said with a smile, “Right, shall we go through these notes?”

– – –

You’d just finished reviewing Lewis’ upcoming schedule when your phone buzzed.

Y/N, we’re done, are you still at Lewis’?

It was Toto. Hurriedly you typed a reply.

Yes but just finished, shall I meet you at yours?

“I know who’s got you smiling like that…” said Lewis, wagging his tongue suggestively.

“You’re terrible Lewis. I’d love for you to tease Toto in the same way.”

“I’m definitely not going to tease him, dude’s punching. You’re the one I worry for.”

“Somehow I don’t think so,” you said.

“Honestly, you’re a catch. He’s a lucky guy,” he said, his tone more serious.

“Well let’s see,” you said, just as your phone buzzed once more.

I’ll come and meet you, I’m nearby and I want to see Lewis.

Gulping slightly as this meant that Toto would immediately find out you’d blabbed to Lewis, you typed out your reply.

Sure, I’ll wait here.

“Is it okay if I hang out here for a bit? Toto said he wants to see you and will come and collect me.”

“Course, how romantic, he’s coming to pick you up!” said Lewis.

“Oh my god, one more word and I will arrange endless foreign language interviews for you at the next race.”

“Cool, I’ll download Duolingo,” said Lewis, nonchalantly shrugging.

“I mean it Mr Hamilton.” you said, “This is the danger zone.”

Fortunately, Lewis was saved by the bell as his intercom rang out.

“Hello Lewis, it’s Toto, can I come up?” came a deep voice through the speaker.

“Sure, I’ll buzz you through, boss,” said Lewis, winking at you.

“One word.” you mouthed silently.

“I’m just kidding Y/N. I’m scared of Toto man,” he said, hopping down from the stool and making his way back towards the lift door where Toto would be emerging any minute.

Deciding to follow Lewis, you arrived in the corridor just as the doors opened to reveal your handsome boyfriend.

“Lewis!” he said, scooping the diminutive racing driver into a bear hug. “How are you?”

“Good man, and you?” Lewis replied.

“I’m okay thanks, I just finished filming and thought I’d come and check-in. Y/N, how are you?”

Toto made his way towards you and bent down for a very chaste kiss on the cheek. Sensing your face betraying you and blushing, you couldn’t look Lewis in the eye as you replied, “Good thanks, how was it?”

“As good as it could be,” said the Austrian wryly. “So, Lewis, the reason I came over was there is something I need to tell you. I always like to be transparent with you and wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Hold up big man.” said Lewis, “I think I can guess.”

Toto raised his eyebrow, looking across at you quizzically. “Oh really?”

“Yes. It’s pretty obvious.”

“What is?”

“That your new girlfriend is someone who works with us.”

Toto looked floored by Lewis’ admission. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that. Is it that obvious?”

“The way she looks at you man, like you’re a piece of meat,” said Lewis.

“Huh?” said Toto, clearly confused.

“Lara, she’s down bad.”

“Lara? No not Lara,” said Toto, getting flustered. “Why would you think I’m dating Lara?”

Lewis burst out laughing, unable to keep stringing Toto along, “I’m just messing. I know it’s Y/N.”

Relief poured over Toto’s face, “How did you know?”

“Toto…” you started.

“I just found out, I asked Y/N straight up and she’s a really bad liar,” said Lewis. “Look, I’m not going to tell anyone and I’m happy for you both.”

“Oh…” said Toto, taken aback that you’d beaten him to it, “Well thank you, Lewis.”

Shimmying over towards Toto, you put an arm around his waist protectively, “Sorry Toto, he called me out almost immediately.”

“I know what he’s like, believe me!” said Toto, throwing a glance over at Lewis.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” said Lewis, shrugging his shoulders. “So what do you two lovebirds have planned now?”

“We’re going to collect our luggage and drive down to France,” said Toto, clutching you close by his side.

“Are we?” you said, not aware that this is what Toto had planned.

“Ooh a surprise, how romantic!” exclaimed Lewis, clapping his hands together, “Right, well then you two gotta go!”

Toto laughed, “We should. Thank you Lewis and I appreciate your discretion.”

“Of course boss!” said Lewis, saluting Toto as you both made your way into the lift, back down to the street level.

“See you on Friday Lewis!” you said, blowing a kiss at the affable racing driver.

“See you!” he said, waving as the lift doors closed softly. “And use protection!”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to Toto, “Sorry he really pressed me.”

“It’s okay Y/N, I knew he would.” Toto said, stroking your hair absentmindedly, “Sorry I didn’t discuss telling him with you first, but I felt guilty knowing George knows and he doesn’t.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s fine. And you’re right, it’s not fair for one to know and one to be in the dark.”

“That was my reasoning. How was Lewis? Apart from the gossiping?”

“He’s good, I think he’s knackered from all the travelling though. How was the filming?”

“I can understand that. It went well, I think. I wish you could have been there but they didn’t ask anything too difficult.”

“Good, I haven’t heard anything from Pete so I thought as much. I’ll let you know when the rushes come over for approval.”

Toto smiled, “Thank you. I forgot how much you love Pete.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, my bestie. So not to stop talking shop but where are you taking me?”

“Now that’s for me to know and you to find out,” said Toto, a mischievous glint in his eye.

– – –

Having gathered some of your luggage, with Toto insisting on you leaving some clothes behind at his, you were now barrelling along the Autoroute towards the Circuit Paul Ricard. As careful as he was in daily life, Toto was a speed demon on the roads, especially in the GLC that wasn’t his.

“So where are we staying?” You asked, still surprised that Toto had decided to go astray from his normally strict race week schedule.

“Wait and see.” He said with a grin, turning up the volume on the radio.

“You’re so annoying,” you moaned, making Toto grin even wider.

“I promise it’s worth the wait,” he said.

“That’s a big promise, Toto,” you said, side-eyeing him from the passenger seat.

“Do you know what else is big?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. You are such a child.” you groaned, “Although don’t get cocky but I’m a little sore from last night.”

“Oh really?” Toto’s head whipped around.

“Hey, eyes on the road Mr!” you said, “But yes, a little.”

“Well I don’t want to hurt you,” said Toto.

“It doesn’t hurt, I just feel stretched,” you said, “I was having trouble hiding it in front of Lewis.”

Toto smirked, obviously pleased with himself, “Did he notice?”

“No, he was too busy trying to grill me on everything.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Not much, as much as we told George and Rosie.”

“Good, I won’t live it down if he knows anything juicy.”

“I figured that,” you said, fidgeting in your seat, hoping that Toto wouldn’t be annoyed that you had told Lewis a few titbits. “I don’t want to be a backseat driver but isn’t that the turning?” you said, noticing that Toto had just sped past the exit for the circuit.

“It is, but we’re going somewhere else first.” He said, his face blank, not betraying a single thing.

“This is all very mysterious.” You said, glancing around, trying to guess where you might be off to.

“Don’t panic, we won’t be far,” Toto said, roughly grabbing your thigh before taking the next exit. The road was narrow and twisting and it wasn’t long before it turned into a steep hill.

“Sheesh, this is not what I was expecting.” You said, scared to look as Toto navigated the road at quite some speed.

“It’s not long now, don’t worry.” He said, taking another sudden turn.

“I’m not worried, I’m just wondering where you’re taking me.” You said as the road brought you towards a small cluster of traditional stone buildings. It was all very pretty and you hoped that wherever you were staying looked like this.

You weren’t to be in luck however as Toto sped through the village, taking you back onto a hedge-lined country road, although it wasn’t long before he suddenly started slowing down, as if he was looking for somewhere.

“Ah yes, this is the one,” he said, indicating down a dubious-looking dirt track.

“If I didn’t know you better, this really feels like a K and R.” You said laughing.

“Damn, you got me,” Toto said laughing as he slowed right down, the car jumping up and down on the bumpy earth track.

“Ooh, are you going to tie me up?” You said, grabbing Toto’s thigh gently.

“You’re into that?” Said Toto, an eyebrow raised, eyes still scouring the road.

“Not really. I’m Miss Vanilla.” You said laughing, “But if you are, maybe you can convert me.”

“No no that’s not for me either,” Toto said, shaking his head before taking another turn off to the right, revealing a large country house that seemingly appeared from nowhere.

“Ooh, this is beautiful!” You said, eyeing up the building before you, blue shutters twinkling in the sun.

“Don’t get too excited, we’re staying in another building.” Said Toto, pulling up the car in the expansive driveway and unbuckling his seatbelt, “Stay here a second, I just need to go and meet the owner.”

“Sure.” You said, curiosity peaked as Toto made his way into the impressive building.

Twiddling your thumbs in the car, you decided to take out your phone and check for messages, a force of habit. Of course, you had zero signal. Hoping that your team would survive until you had wifi you put it away, patiently waiting for Toto to return.

Ten minutes later, he emerged grinning, followed closely by a jovial-looking older gentleman and a small fluffy white dog. Deciding now was the time to get out of the car, you emerged awkwardly, waiting for an introduction.

“Y/N, this is Monsieur de la Tour, he owns the vineyard.” said Toto with a grin, “Monsieur de la Tour, je vous presente Y/N.”

“Enchanté, Monsieur de la Tour,” you spluttered out, desperately trying to remember your French.

“Lovely to meet you too Y/N,” replied the man in perfect English, “Let me show you both around.”

Grateful that he at least spoke English, you moved to Toto’s side to follow Monsieur de la Tour through a small archway that led you through to a garden. Plants and flowers spilt everywhere you look, twisting around a pergola overhead and bursting out of terracotta pots.

“This is gorgeous.” You said quietly to Toto, his arm draped across your shoulders.

“I’m glad you like it.” He said, his expression unreadable.

You followed Monsieur de la Tour through the garden along a small walkway towards another building. Although smaller than the main house, it was very pretty, with matching blue shutters and vibrant pink bougainvillaeas creeping up the stone walls.

“Et voilà, here is the guesthouse.” Said Monsieur de la Tour, waving his hands emphatically before handing a set of keys to Toto. “Here are the keys, as I said, if you need anything we are just over in the main house.”

“Thank you, it’s perfect.” Said Toto, “And dinner will be served at eight?”

“Yes, that’s right. We look forward to welcoming you.” The older man replied.

You raised an eyebrow, this was not what you were expecting at all.

“Lovely to meet you both and we will see you later.” He said, patting his leg for his dog to follow as he made his way back down the pathway.

“Merci beaucoup, à toute!” Said Toto before turning to you and switching to English. “Shall we take a look?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You said, following Toto into the pretty building.

A quick tour around revealed a charming yet rustic home, decked out in terracotta tiles and vintage French botanical artwork. It wasn’t fancy but it had its charm and you knew you’d have a wonderful time.

“What do you think?” Asked Toto as you made your way back towards the car to collect your luggage.

“It’s gorgeous!” You replied, “Although I’m surprised you chose it.”

“Surprised?” Toto said, “Why?”

Choosing your words carefully you replied, “Well you’re such a city slicker, it’s very country. I would have pegged you as a Cap-Eden-Roc type.”

“I have stayed there, but I wanted to find somewhere more romantic, more you.” Said Toto, his chocolate eyes melting you instantly.

“You big old softie,” you said, reaching up for a kiss before adding, “Who knew?”

“I’m glad you like it.” He said sweetly, opening the boot to take out your luggage. “So something I didn’t tell you is this is a Domaine where they make wine so dinner tonight is on the vineyard.”

“No way!” You said, “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“I know.” He said with a grin, “I remember you told me this last year, so I thought now I can make it happen.”

“Wow, I don’t even remember saying that.” You said, touched by Toto’s sentimentality, “Thank you.”

“You can thank me later,” he said, squeezing your side as he rolled the suitcase along.

“Perv.” You said, squeezing his butt back.

– – –

THURSDAY AM

Dinner at the vineyard had been out of this world, with all the wine and cheese you could ever dream of. By the time you’d fallen into bed with Toto, you were both exceedingly merry and when you’d woken up this morning, you were bemused to discover that you were both still fully clothed. Toto had righted that in record timing, pulling you into the shower alongside him and peppering your entire body with soapy kisses.

It had been a battle to pack up and leave but unfortunately your busy schedules meant you were expected trackside later that morning and you had to peel snap back to reality.

As you made your way back towards the car, you turned to Toto, “Thank you so much for last night, it was amazing. I still can’t believe you remembered.”

Laden with luggage, Toto looked very pleased with himself, “I remember everything Y/N.”

Blushing you replied, “I hope not everything, God knows what I’ve told you when I’m tipsy.”

“God knows and I know.” said Toto, beaming away as you reached the car, unlocking it with a deft flick of the keyfob.

“Wow, that's cheesy.” you said, “Can I help with the cases? I feel bad you’re always carrying everything for me.”

“Don’t be silly.” he said, making light work of putting them in the boot, “You’re much smaller than me, besides, I have been neglecting the gym recently, I need the workout.”

“Well I think you’ve gotten your cardio up lately, no?” you said, casting your memory back to the last sex-filled few days.

“That’s true,” he replied, “Let me just take these keys to Monsieur de la Tour and we’ll get going.”

– – –

True to Toto’s word, it was a very short drive to the circuit, where you’d both be staying trackside in your trusty motorhomes. As you rolled up towards security a thought suddenly hit you.

“Toto, I just realised, are people not going to think it’s weird that you drove me here?”

“Why? They all know you were in Monaco for the filming?”

“That’s true, but so was Lewis and he’s not in the car.”

“You worry too much,” said Toto reassuringly.

“I guess,” you said, not convinced, knowing Lara would definitely have something to say. You’d both remained cagey on your whereabouts for the last two days and she was most definitely onto you.

As Toto pulled up to his designated parking space you clocked a few of your team already milling about in preparation for the upcoming Free Practice. Lewis and George were on their way, via helicopter and the rest of the Senior team were due to arrive any moment, having flown out from the UK that morning.

Opening your door, you were immediately greeted with a voice calling out “Y/N!”

Whipping your head around you saw it was Tom. “Hey Tom, how are you?”

“Good thanks,” replied the young man, eyeing up Toto curiously, “How did you get here so quickly, I thought you’d just left Monaco?”

Feeling foolish at being caught out already, as you’d dropped a text to your team WhatsApp group to say you were on the way, you tripped over your words trying to cover your tracks. “Oh, yes I think the signal was bad so my message sent when we were almost here.”

Seemingly appeased, Tom nodded, “Ugh, signal here is so ropey!” Spotting your pile of luggage that Toto had just taken out of the boot, he wandered around, adding, “Can I help you guys with your bags at all?”

“Oh yeah sure, that would be lovely, thank you, Tom.” You said, shooting a warning glance at Toto to not act weird.

“Thank you, Tom,” said Toto stiffly, acting as if this was a slight on his manhood. “Y/N, I have to take a call, I will see you back in the team motorhome later?”

“Sure.” You said, smirking slightly at Toto’s sudden formality. As if he hadn’t been kissing you here there and everywhere not two hours before. “We’ll put your bags in your motorhome.”

“Thanks, guys,” said Toto, locking the car and heading down towards the paddock.

Scooping up your luggage you fell into step alongside Tom as you made your way towards the motorhomes where you would be staying.

“So you drove down with the boss huh?” He asked.

“Yeah, he offered yesterday as we both had to be here at the same time.”

“That’s nice of him, he’s never offered to drive anyone else.”

You raised your eyebrow, “Well George and Lewis are coming via helicopter and everybody else was in the UK. Would’ve been a hell of a drive.”

“Makes sense.” Said Tom, before adding, “Right well, I feel like I should warn you, the motorhomes here are super tightly packed in. Yours is almost touching the PAs one.”

Coming to a stop and seeing what he meant you grimaced, “Oof yep, it’s okay though, they’ll just have to suffer my shower singing.”

Tom laughed, “Rather them than me. Although ours is just the other side so we might hear it too.”

“It’s cosy.” You said, “Where is Toto’s? We should put his bags in there for him.”

“Our great leader has his own pitch, no neighbours, jammy fucker.” Tom said, “It’s just over here.”

Following Tom, expertly weaving a path through the haphazardly placed motorhomes you reached a larger trio of motorhomes, “Are these George and Lewis’ too?” You asked.

“Yup. It’s alright for some.” He replied, making his way towards the largest of the three, “Here it is.”

“Great, I’ll grab his bags,” you said, reaching out for the smart duffle and holdall that Toto had hurriedly packed a few days before.

“Ooh, making yourself at home I see.” Called out a voice. Rolling your eyes you turned around to see none other than Lara making a beeline for Toto’s motorhome. “Are you staying here too?”

“Yes, Lara, next door to you.” You said, glaring at her, “We’re just putting Toto’s bags in here for him. Is that okay with you?”

“Well of course, why do you have Toto’s bags?” She said, an evil look in her eye, knowing that Tom was unaware of your situation.

“They just got here, drove down from Monaco.” Chimed in Tom innocently.

“Oh that’s interesting, he didn’t tell me that he was with you,” Lara said, nose in the air.

“Okay, yes it was a secret. You got me. We were doing all kinds of shady shit in Monaco and secretly drove here.”

Tom stared at you, mouth agape as he wasn’t au-fait with your delicate relationship with Lara.

“Well, next time please put it in the diary.” Said Lara, stony-faced. “How are you, Tom?”

Rolling your eyes once again, you dumped Toto’s bags in the living area of his motorhome, you couldn’t believe Lara.

Emerging to find Sophie had joined Lara and Tom in their chitchat you greeted your assistant.

“Hey Sophie, how are you getting on?” You asked, joining their circle.

“Good thanks, how was Monaco?” She asked as if you hadn’t been in constant communication via WhatsApp.

“Busy!” You said, “I’m going to go and drop my bags off and I’ll see you all in the paddock, okay?”

“Cool, see you,” said Sophie and Tom in unison, Lara glowering away.

FRIDAY PM

Walking into the paddock to check in on Free Practice, you hadn’t expected to encounter any difficulties but these days it seemed like everyone was on your case.

“Y/N!” a voice called out from behind you.

Turning around you were disappointed to see it was Toto’s arch-rival, Red Bull Team Principal, Christian Horner. Great.

“Hello Christian, how are you?” You said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“All the better having seen you.” He said sleazily, sidling up alongside you “Where’s loverboy?”

“Loverboy?” You said, knowing full well he was referring to Toto but not wanting to let him wind you up.

“Yeah, the tall guy, sounds like the Terminator? I heard you fuck him now and then?”

Internally screaming at the crude language you tried your best to keep level-headed. “Keep your fantasies to yourself, Christian, it’s unbecoming.”

“I’d rather you than me. What’s he really like?” He asked, walking alongside you as you tried to keep moving and shake him off, “I bet he’s tiny where it counts. Tall guys always are lacking.”

Having reached your limit, you could no longer stay polite, “Christian, what is actually wrong with you?”

He smirked, “Aw standing up for loverboy. How sweet. Don’t get burnt by him though. I could tell you some stories.”

Looking at him with disdain, “Look, I do not know what you are talking about. I’m the Director of Communications, nothing more, nothing less. Do you talk to all of your colleagues like this?”

“Just the pretty ones.”

“Lovely.” You said, in a tone that suggested it was anything but. “What do you really want Christian?”

“Just to talk to a pretty lady, that’s all.” He said, “And like I said, look after yourself, Toto is not the gentleman he appears to be.”

“Not like you I suppose?” You said sarcastically.

“I never said I was perfect, but I don’t pretend to be.” He said.

Getting fed up with his annoying chitchat you were grateful to have almost reached the Mercedes garage.

“I bet Loverboy is in there, waiting for you.” He said eyeing up the entrance.

“Sure thing.” You said, “Have a wonderful day Christian, always a pleasure chatting with you.”

“Oh the pleasure is all mine,” he said, winking at you as you turned into the garage.

Internally shuddering at the creep you’d just encountered you tried your best to greet the team with a smile and not take Christian’s words to heart. You were of course curious about what he meant by stories of Toto, but equally, you knew how much shit he liked to talk so you were sure he was just trying to get under your skin, or even Toto’s.

– – –

Free Practice had flown by and the team were in good stead for tomorrow’s qualifying. Lewis had put in a staggering lap and spirits were high in the Mercedes camp. Your team had asked if you’d like to join them for cassoulet and wine in the campground but Toto had other plans so you’d politely declined and told a few white lies about US-based sponsor meetings with a time difference.

Instead, you were now wandering along a nearby beach, the Plage de Lioquet, hand in hand with Toto, not another soul in sight.

“This is nice.” You said, snuggling up.

“I know, I needed a break,” Toto said, wrapping his arm around you, hugging you tighter to his firm chest.

“Toto, there’s something that happened earlier that I didn’t tell you about.” You said, hoping now was the right moment to tell him about Christian’s harsh words.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

“When I was walking to the garage earlier, Christian decided to come and walk with me and chat all sorts of shit. He accused me of fucking you and then told me to watch out because apparently, he has stories of you being less than a gentleman.” You blurted out.

Toto’s concern turned to anger, “That piece of shit. Did he say this in front of anyone?”

“No, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. It was very creepy.” You said.

“I’m going to talk to him tomorrow. This is not okay.” He said, “He should know better. He likes to wind me up but it’s not fair to do it via you.”

“Leave it, he just wants to get a rise.” You said, not wanting to drag Toto into it.

“Hmm,” Toto said, his chest vibrating with anger.

Placing your hand on his heart, you tried to calm him down, “I only told you because I think you should know, but he’s not worth the time or the energy.”

“You’re right,” Toto said. “He is such a windbag.”

You giggled at Toto’s strange turn of phrase, “That he is. Do you want to sit for a bit? We can watch the sunset?”

“Sure,” Toto said, “That part is flat.”

Making your way across the pebbled beach, Toto stopped in the spot he’d gestured at, took off his jacket and laid it out for you both.

“Here,” he said, settling you down in between his long legs, your back flush against his chest.

“Mmm.” You said, leaning back into Toto’s warm embrace, watching as the sun sank lower and lower on the horizon. “This is cool, I feel like we have our own private beach.”

“Oh yeah?” said Toto, his mind clearly wandering along the same route yours was.

“Hmm yeah. And it’s about to get dark.” You said wriggling your bottom nearer to Toto’s crotch.

“That’s true,” he said, his hands starting to explore your torso towards your breasts, giving them a light squeeze through your many layers.

“You’re hot.” He said, grunting slightly as he continued to run his hands around you.

“I’m actually pretty cold.” You said, bursting into a fit of laughter before turning around to kiss him.

As you deepened the kiss, Toto lifted you, moved your leg to one side and swooped you around so that you were now straddling him. Feeling him growing harder underneath you, you were emboldened by the fact that the sun had now really dipped and darkness was starting to fall. Confident you were still very much alone on the beach, you ground down, eliciting a moan from Toto.

“Fuck, Y/N, are we doing this?” His deep voice rumbled, low with lust.

“There’s nobody around.” You said, too horny to turn back.

“Hang on, I have an idea.” Said Toto, leaning back and tearing off his cashmere sweater, flicking it around and draping it around you.

“Is that so the birds don’t see?” You laughed, gesturing at your only company, a few seagulls.

“Well, you never know.” Said Toto, laughing as he started to lift your skirt, his hands creeping up your thighs.

“Fuck, I’m glad I wore a skirt.” You said breathily.

“Me too.” He said, reaching his goal, his long fingers pulling your underwear to one side and starting to explore where you were growing increasingly wet. “Oh, you are horny tonight.”

“Well duh.” You said, your hands skimming his abs to find his belt buckle.

“Impatient too.” He said smirking, kissing you once again before plunging his finger into your core.

Hitching your breath, you were indeed impatient and scrambled to undo his belt buckle and chino button and let his cock free.

“Fuck,” Toto said, as you found what you were after, gliding your hand up and down it as he pumped his finger into you.

“Indeed.” You said, shifting forward slightly so the heel of his hand bumped up against where you needed it most.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Toto asked, his free hand eagerly sneaking up your shirt and under your bra to cup your bare breast, tweaking your nipple playfully.

“I’ve never been more certain,” you said, leaning forward once again to kiss him as he pulled out his hand to replace it with his now achingly hard cock. He gently lifted you, lining himself up and then pushed down, filling you slowly and agonisingly.

“You okay?” He asked, always considerate.

“Yuh-huh.” Was all you managed, taking a breath as you adjusted. “All good.”

“Mmm,” he said as he started to slowly pump in and out, going for the slow grind today. Your hips buckled as you started to grind back, swirling slowly and tantalisingly.

“Fuck.” He said, “Stop for a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” You said, concerned.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to cum.”

“Ow.” You said, stilling. “Fuck, that feels so good. I love it when you’re inside me.”

At that, you could feel Toto throbbing, a warning sign that you were in the danger zone.

“Fuck, don’t say things like that.” He said, clearly on the edge of his self-control.

“Sorry, but it’s the truth.” You said, accidentally shifting as you shrugged your shoulders, “You okay? We can take a break if you need?”

“No, no, all good,” said Toto, recomposing himself and leaning forward to kiss you once more. “We just need to be careful.”

Smiling at your very considerate lover, you stayed put for a little while, content with sitting on Toto’s cock, letting it stretch you in places you’d never been stretched before as you continued passionately kissing.

Toto then started to gently thrust back up into you, and taking it as a signal that he was okay to start up again, you ground back down to meet his hips once more.

“Fuck Y/N, I’m so sor…” was all Toto managed to get out before he moaned, his cock throbbing, spilling everything into you.

“Fuck.” You said as Toto panted into your shoulder, still riding the high of his orgasm.

“Scheiße! I am so sorry.” Said Toto, pulling out of you with a squelch.

“It’s okay, these things happen.” You said, secretly panicking beyond belief. You always tracked your period and knew that this week was dangerous. You’d been careful so far but hadn’t come prepared for this and had allowed yourself to get carried away. Toto looked devastated and you weren’t about to scare him further so tried to calm him down, grabbing his chin and tilting his face towards yours, “Don’t worry, I can try and get a morning-after pill tomorrow, just to be safe.”

“Fuck,” was all he could continue to blurt out, “I don’t want you having to do that, you’re busy enough tomorrow. Shall we go now?”

“Toto, this is rural France. Do you really think somewhere will sell it to us at ten o’clock at night?”

“Maybe?” Toto said hopefully. “Although I’m old, maybe we are panicking for nothing.”

“Oh shut up with the old thing again!” You said, “It’s better to be safe than sorry, I’ll go early tomorrow.”

“Well okay, I’ll drive you.”

“And that won’t look suspicious?”

“How will you get there? They’ll hardly have it at the Circuit.” Toto said, his steely Team Principal mask back on as you climbed off of his lap, feeling everything dripping down your thigh.

“Can I borrow the car?”

“I’d rather drive you.” Toto paused, “Or I will drive and get it for you? No one will question me.”

“Maybe that’s the wisest choice. Fuck Toto, I’m so sorry.” You said, rearranging your skirt and settling beside him.

“Don’t say that, it’s my fault.” He said. “You drive me crazy Y/N.”

Smiling sympathetically you replied, “Likewise.”

Almost pitch black, you could just about make out Toto gazing at you in the darkness beside you. He took your hand in his suddenly before blurting out, “I love you.”

Floored by his words, you replied with the truth, “I love you too.”

#formula one x reader #toto wolff fanfic #f1 x reader #onceuponatimein...

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serpentinesheldonserpentine · 1 year ago

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Some of my suits are ten to twenty years old, many of them ready-made and reasonably priced. Those that were custom-tailored were made by many different tailors in many different cities: London, Hong Kong, New York and Los Angeles. I believe that American ready-made clothes are the best ready-made clothes in the world: that the well-dressed American man makes a better appearance than the well-dressed man of any other country. — Cary Grant, 1962

#Cary Grant

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anteroom-of-death · 1 day ago

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Spin in the City, chapter 1

Synopsis: Malcolm Tucker is back in London and trying to gain employment. He grieves and plays himself openly.

A/N: another story from ME! I layer and add symbolism. There's many things wrong with me. Comments and thoughts appreciated...

Malcolm brushed his teeth, a task that got harder every day. Fuck, his depression and his arthritis starting to flare up every day for making it harder to operate this useless sack of cum.

He fucking understood he was sixty-two. He fucking got the message. Loud as the tinnitus he had from decades of screaming into a phone.

The taps stayed on as he paced in his old home. Sam convinced him to keep his Tottenham home when they got married and moved into their cottage in Wick. Storage and they could rent out the parking for a small fee.

His chest began that familiar widower’s ache.

Here he was back in the radioactive shithole that was England, yet alone London, their little home for a few years on the market. He couldn’t bear to keep it. A happy little thatched-roof where he saw his niece married last year. The place where they genuinely tried to live a life far removed from the cunts who framed him and used his existence to pass legislation.

The cozy little sitting room where the best fucking woman to ever exist breathed her last in May. (Possibly even the best fucking human to ever exist, but Malcolm admitted he may have heavy biases.)

He couldn’t bear it.

Fuck that.

Fuck this.

He just needed out and for something to do. Someone else to be for a bit.

He was shocked to find someone who was willing to interview him. Especially so quickly.

Maybe it was just because it was an American woman… no one from this Island or Northern Ireland would probably have him.

She sounded posh and mature, if not a tad bit full of herself.

He googled her separately from the firm she partnered with when he first saw the offer slide through his inbox from the recruitment service.

Confident, blonde and everywhere. She embodied the social elite of New York City. Dated celebrities and moguls, was friends with sex columnists and lawyers, hosted extravagant parties and had an endless string of sexy outfits. She seemed plenty intelligent and had eyes like a hawk with the posture befitting and outclassing any model.

Not particularly his type. He always liked demure brunettes with something deeply wrong behind the surface. Both of his wives were.

Not that Sam and Elaine were anything alike. No, Elaine was some hag bitch journo from hell whom he frequently thought of trying to start some political movement her for the entire goddamn world’s protection. Sam just was both a sadist and a sweetheart at once.

He shoved those thoughts down as he called an Uber and collected the folder he made of his accomplishments over the years.

He didn’t want to cry before his interview.

Or give off the impression that Malcolm F. Tucker was someone who had the capacity to cry.

The suit felt itchy and constricting against his being. Not unlike a noose, it felt so alien to wear one after years of Aran sweaters and jeans with flannels. The man who wore suits was executed for his alleged crimes in 2012. This man? In 2021? No.

This man was a new man, older, tired and more timid than he liked to admit.

He just needed to do something, be something. Anything but some begrieved widower with increasingly dead eyes.

The firm was a stone’s throw from his old stomping grounds in Number 10 and Westminster.

Nonetheless, he trudged onward into the office.

It was modern and luxurious inside. Nothing too ostentatious, but the bright lights and plush chair the receptionist led him to wait for Samantha Jones but his teeth on edge. Her desk was simple and glass, only a small stack of papers, a pen and a sleek laptop were on display.

He would have thought something vulgar, but he was trying not to. He was also on display.

The woman glided in, clad in something that seemed custom-made. He was no fashion expert, Sam always just bought him his suits and gave him the bill to forward to treasury for reimbursement. Once in a while he’d recognize a name from one of the designers on the high streets or the luxury shops in richer areas that were bespoke.

His perfect Sam. Knew him better than he did himself…

Malcolm got up and offered her his hand. She took it, her handshake firmer than any man in politics and twice as assertive. She had a bizarre smile on her face. One that was un-fucking-readable.

Probably some American blow-off look. They did love their meaningless grins and fucking pointless niceties.

It was fascinating to him how an entire country operated on the same system of etiquette as pointless cabinet members with worse agendas.

She sat down and clicked something on her file and looked at his CV. The half-second she held each in her line of vision seemed to go on for eternity.

“Cut the bullshit, Malc. Why does someone like you want to demean yourself working for me?” She leaned back and bore her eyes into his soul, (he highly debated that he had a soul, but if he did, Samantha Jones was staring straight at it…) her index finger resting just behind a broach cleverly disguised as an earring.

Now Malcolm had the luxury of choice. Did he tell the truth or did he fabricate and spin a nice little falsehood?

What did he say to that emaciated Oxbridge twat that stole his place? Rabbits and hats? That rant came barreling back and hit him clearly between the eyes.

He had to act.

“Retirement isn’t what it’s cracked up to be, isn’t it, love?”

She clearly didn’t enjoy that response. Her eyes narrowed and he felt like he was melting quicker than a cone in the hand of toddler with ADHD during a heatwave. He had to amend his statement and do a little backtracking.

“Samantha, can I call you Samantha?” He felt his hand extend and the glimmer of his old self surface.

“Miss Jones.”

“Right. Miss Jones.” He nodded along. “I don’t expect you to care, but I can’t live how I was living. A man’s got to have a purpose. Can’t sit by the sea waiting to fucking pass from Parkinzeimers, can he?” Blatant honesty covered in bravado.

He thought he saw a flash of something behind her eyes, he didn’t want to dig himself a bigger hole. So he left that statement at that.

She was judging him. He felt cornered.

He didn’t like this.

“Don’t play games with me. I know there’s more than- “She gestured broadly towards his entire being, “Being purposeless.”

He deflated and decided to tell an unvarnished truth. No spin, no anything, he even pulled himself back from swearing. “I’ve worked since I was 8. I haven’t not worked my entire life. I spent a few years living a life I didn’t know a boy from Gorbals could get. It’s dead and gone. Give me something to do.” He gave plaintive plea as a firm demand.

He could physically see the gears turning in her mind. He obviously was a risky investment.

She pursed her lips.

“Trial period, I’ll have my assistant send you a temporary contract.”

Thank fuck, he relaxed.

“Don’t pull anything like you did to Mr. Tickel or I’ll have you unable to even run the tills at Iceland.” She levied against him as she got up and offered him a hand. The interview was over and she wanted him out of her office.

“Fair fucking offer.” He took her hand, yet again noticing her grasp and the fact you could feel her obviously well-earned cockiness radiating from the cells in her hand alone.

He felt himself crumple in the lift ride down.

Maybe it was too soon to work?

No, this was the right thing to do. There wasn’t anything for him left. Might as well fucking slide back in the old skin suit and concern himself with every wanker’s business except his own. Would keep his mind torn off of his intelligent, beautiful and loving bride dying from breast cancer than neither of them knew she had. She got the diagnosis too late and the chemotherapy was too rough.

It fucking shattered her.

She took the peaceful route, die with dignity in her home, surrounded by loved ones.

That was the type of woman she was. Quiet, simple and dignified. She did the job and did it well. Even dying was a class-act from her.

He missed her more every moment.

He got home and let himself cry, first time since he watched the life slip away from her eyes. It took hours and he felt literally disemboweled after it.

The email app on his phone pinged.

It was Miss Jones’ assistant. His contract was in for him to review and sign.

He didn’t know how he’d spun this far out of control…

#personal #i wrote this #malcolm tucker #samantha jones #the thick of it #sex and the city #in the loop #and just like that #samantha jones x malcolm tucker #malcolm tucker x samantha jones #yayyyy #crossover fics #i am fueled by my own delusional behavior #yeey #peter capaldi #kim cattrall #the white devil #yeerrrt

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inevitably-johnlocked · 1 year ago

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Hi my lovely. Do you have any lists of alternative first meetings? Not full on AUs. Preferably not uni lock. Just similar verse but a different first meeting. With Johnlock end game. Many thanks.

Hey Nonny!

I do! But because I need your ask to start a new list, I'm going to put all of the Alternate First Meetings I currently have (which also contains some AU fics; those are avoidable by checking my tags! :)) and I recommend you check out Part 1, which will be more what you're looking for, I think!

As always, friends, add your own if you got them! This list is a bit older, so new fics welcome!

Enjoy!! :D

ALTERNATE FIRST MEETINGS Pt. 2

See also:

Alternate First Meetings (Canon-Feeling)

First Meeting Via Internet / Phone / Letters

Alternate Professions

The Stranger by LaKoda0518 (T, 1,844 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Fluff, First Kiss, For a Case, Mysterious Madman, Lonely John) – John Watson is standing on the platform waiting to board a train to his sister’s after being invalided home from Afghanistan. A chance meeting with a mysterious madman turns his world upside down and changes his life forever.

Caffeine and Adaptive Programming by DemonicSymphony (E, 5,540 w., 1 Ch. || Androids AU / Bond Fusion || Android Sherlock, Coffee Shop AU, Pining John Hinted Bond / Q, Toplock) – Sherlock is a coffee shop android slowly falling for a regular customer. But he's not supposed to be able to feel emotions.

Made for You by Raxicoricofallapatorious (K, 8,440 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Sci-Fi, Androids) – When John was shot in the shoulder he was decommissioned and his memory and personality was wiped. Sherlock was given the blank droid and he quickly learns that this droid is more than it seems. John just so happened to come back and no one can fathom how or why. Johnlock if you squint.

Evening Ride by LapisLazuli (E, 8,632 w. || Public Sex, Alternate First Meeting, Humiliation Kink, Groping, Frottage, Consent Issues, Come Play) – John has a series of unexpected meetings with a stranger on the Tube.

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalize Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

The shape of the world around us by Salambo06 (E, 15,058 w., 5 Ch. || Lumberjack John / Botanist Sherlock, Different First Meeting, John Has a Beard, Light Case Fic, Flirting, First Kiss / Time, Masturbation, Love at First Sight, Horny Sherlock, John’s Bum, Bottomlock, Tenderness, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Shy Sherlock, Sexual Fantasies) – Looking through the bush, Sherlock felt his heartbeat quicken as a man passed in front of him. Sherlock frowned, trying to get a closer look despite the bush. The man was wearing a red plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, and Sherlock couldn't take his eyes off the man’s arms. Muscular, slightly tanned with golden hairs along his forearms. For some unknown reason, Sherlock found himself imagining them around his waist, holding him tightly. Closing his eyes for the briefest second, Sherlock shook his head. Opening his eyes and looking back to where the man stood only a moment prior, he found himself alone. Great, now his only chance to find his way back to town was gone. “Why are you wearing a suit?”

A Gossamer Dream by CarmillaCarmine (E, 15,985 w., 4 Ch. || Writer/Teacher AU || First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Writer John / Teacher Sherlock, Fluff, London, Holding Hands, Online Friendship / Romance, Phone Sex, Anal Sex, Happy Ending, Alternating POV, Scottish John, Online Relationship, Internalized Homophobia, Hand Holding, Forehead Touching, First Kiss/Time, Texting/Sexting, Rimming, Toplock, Sherlock Speaks French) – Sherlock had never realised one could care so much about someone they'd never met in person. Now he is about to meet the friend with whom he's been chatting online for months and his anticipation is reaching a crescendo.

You Remind Me of a Man by columbine-and-asphodel (M, 17,700 w., 17 Ch. || Sci-Fi/Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort) – Sherlock is a living human experiment. John, an android medicinal ethics monitor, reviews the place that's been experimenting on Sherlock and is thrown by what he finds. Inspired by The Hounds of Baskerville.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

Rupert Street by WritingOutLoud (M, 27,262 w., 9 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Case Fic, Sexuality, Demisexual Sherlock, Drugging, Smart John, Sherlock Has Internalized Biphobia, Fluff, Angst with Happy Ending, Gay Bar, Flirting, John Manipulates Sherlock to Eat, John Deduces, Arguments, Kidnapping/Torture, Hospitalization, John Whump) – Discharged from the war with nothing but the clothes on his back and a realisation of his bisexuality, John Watson has to learn who he’s become. He can’t afford London on an army pension, but the city is the only friend he has. In an effort to understand his newfound queer identity, he heads to a bar one night, where he stumbles across a mysterious stranger who turns his life upside down. ‘I dug around inside myself, and I'm not quite sure what I found, but it was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.’

Insanity in the Middle by DotyTakeThisDown (E, 28,010 w., 8 Ch. || Equestrian Sports AU || Alternate First Meeting, POV John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Clueless Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Passionate Kisses, Hand Holding, Caught Making Out, Bed Sharing, Spooning, Blow Job) – John is a world-class eventing rider with a gold medal and several four-star wins to his credit, but he's never won at Rolex. Sherlock is an up-and-coming rider taking the sport by storm.

Domestic Matters by ohlooktheresabee (M, 29,404 w., 6 Ch. || Fantasy AU || First Meetings, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, BAMF Sherlock, BAMF John, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, Supernatural Elements, Implied / Referenced Child Abuse, Elf Sherlock, Human/Elf Politics, Emotional Abuse, Possessive Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, Buddy Greg) – All flatmates need to work out domestic matters between them - who does the dishes, who takes out the rubbish, how often does the carpet need to be vacuumed - these are part and parcel of sharing a living space together. However, when you’re an elf and your flatmate is going to be a human you just met, this rather complicates things…Very loosely inspired by 'The Elves and The Shoemaker' by The Brothers Grimm.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU || Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater / Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Bakers with Benefits by Raina_at (E, 88,130 w., 14 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Strangers to Lovers, Switchlock, Friends with Benefits, Mentions of Alcoholism / Past Drug Use, Banter, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Past Sherlock/Victor, Mutual Pining, POV Sherlock, Obsessive Sherlock, John’s Bum) – Sherlock Holmes has a successful YouTube baking channel, but what he really wants is his own bakery. When an old friend sends him a call for the very first Great British Bake Off, he seizes the opportunity to finally win a sponsor for his bakery. Here's the plan: Win Bake Off, get the bakery, don't fall in love with the handsome Army doctor at the neighbouring station. Easy.

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Out There by DiscordantWords (T, 131,695 w., 10 Ch. || X-Files Fusion || Past Soldier John, Panic Attacks, POV Alternating Present Tense, Anxious John, Canon Adjacent, Deductions, Obsessive Sherlock,, Travelling, Sherlock’s Family, Jealous Sherlock, Mind Palace John, Awkward Flirting, Batting Cage, Kidnapped/Abducted John, Semi-Reverse Reichenbach, Worried/Anxious Sherlock, Hospital, Slow Burn, UST, Case Fic, Government Conspiracy, Aliens, UFOs, Mutants, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Coma John, Forehead Touching, Hand Holding, Drinking/Bars, Past Jolto) – FBI Special Agent John Watson, medical doctor and army veteran, is assigned to assist eccentric genius Sherlock Holmes with paranormal investigations on the X-Files project.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #alternate first meeting fics #my fic recs

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bxbridal88 · 4 months ago

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charlotteswebbbbb · 5 months ago

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What's the vibe? #65

What's going on man??? A bit of a menswear download.

Bottega x ASAP x Carrie Mae Weems recreating her most popular works for Father's Day?

So much of consuming is about beauty mostly because of beauty products are repeat purchases but what do men really want? Just a taster of insight into what I'm thinking

Main takeaways from above:

Suiting is subversive, looking sharp and less casual is subversive! But do it in a way that you don't attract attention from Derek Guy.

Accessories are great! Find the one for you like Dev Hynes loves his hats :)

Menswear fashion week best ofs:

Prada, Gucci was interesting, Martine Rose, Magliano, Marine Serre was interesting for diff reasons (sustainability).

Valentino had WAYYYY too many looks. Especially for a Resort collection. 171?? Sustainable pour whom???

Martine Rose asked "Where do we find beauty? For Martine Rose: the answer is in the cracks and crevices of culture: the unusual, the unseen, the unpredictable."

So much of the shows were about connecting and coming together - clothes to help you get close. Intimacy or just expressions of love. Maybe that's why weddings are so popular right now - everyone believes in it more than they believe in themselves.

JW Anderson talks about something none of us get enough of: SLEEP with his new collection.

From Prada? Contemporary closeness. "Closeness reflects emotion - the human urge for proximity, to share space and commune. To be closer also shifts perception. Viewed from afar, pieces can pretend to be other - details may seem simplistic, naïve, but up-close, physically, perceptions transform."

youtube

Marine Serre's show was titled" “Sempre Legati” show (where), Serre’s final eight looks that spanned both tailoring and couture dressing, appeared in white to spread a message of peace and love."

youtube

One of my favourite things about smaller brands is that they include older women in their casting and shows which shows that maybe a small slice of their buyers are older women who want to dress in more powerful ways or acknowledging that women are menswear buyers where the bigger players reject that. Maybe because womenswear is big money and they can't afford to fracture their customer base apart each season.

So much of Prada reminded me of Robin Hood, this sort of medieval shoe which is made from leather. This exit from the house into clothes less aggressive, smoother and flatter onto the body...

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Uniform > everyone having the same look > community > similar morals/ideals?

We're still wondering how to make sustainability sexy as another season goes by. Maybe for menswear the most sustainable thing is finding your style or being comfortable in your shape.

Speaking of...Paul Mescal and shorts.

The Euros are on - next England game is Thursday versus Denmark then next Tuesday up against Slovenia.

Unfortch we've missed the uni shows here in London so we'll have to catch up somehow next week.

#parsed #what's the vibe #vibe

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themaladaptivewriter12 · 3 months ago

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Title: Diamonds Are Forever

Part 8.2 of my “Cray-Cray for Cater” series! Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 , Part 7, and Part 8.1 can be found here!

Parings: Cater Diamond x Twisted Wonderland Male OC (Mirai Yuhara)

Summary:

With an extended break, Cater decides to take Mirai on a trip to remember. This trip should have strengthened their bonds, but somehow they break a little too.

cw: Mostly fluff!! Some flirting in the end.

a/n: Do you dock a plane, or park one? Idk, google said it depends, but dock to me sounds better lolol

a/n: The next part will be a shorter one, a smuttier one ! __φ(◎◎ヘ)

a/n: The Hotel referenced is the Shangri-La Hotel at The Shard in London! Their Suite was the Shangri-La Suite! See ya, Dreamers!

Reblogs are appreciated, just use my custom tag, #TheMaladaptiveWriter12, if you do! (─‿‿─)♡

Cross posted from my Ao3: TheMaladaptiveWriter12

Mirai didn’t realize he had fallen asleep until he was woken up by the turbulence of the plane landing, and Mirai blearily followed their directions until the aircraft was safely on the ground. Once they were docked, Amy and Willow came back to help them get their luggage and escort them off the plane, and Mirai barely remembered any of that.

“Thank you for flying with Broom Airlines! Hope to see you guys again,” Amy said waving as Cater and Mirai exited the First Class lounge.

“TYSM,” Cater waved. “I’ll be sure to leave a good review. #BestFlightEver!”

The walk from the lounge wasn’t long and the whole way there, Mirai tried to keep his eyes open to walk in a straight line.

“Stay here, Ima call a MagiLyft,” Cater said sitting Mirai down on a bench.

“Kay,” Mirai mumbled.

Mirai must’ve dose off again, because he was startled awake by Cater shaking his shoulder. Mirai groaned, opening his eyes.

“I know,” Cater cooed, “Once we get you to the hotel, you can sleep.”

Cater held Mirai’s hand as he rushed him outside. Cars, vans, and trucks drove in and out of the parking lot, their headlights distorted by the pelting freezing rain. Now Mirai was sleepy, cold, wet, and agitated.

“Hurry! In, in,” Cater said hurriedly, ushering Mirai into the back of their MagiLyft. Mirai climbed in and Cater rushed to the other side, hurriedly shoving his bag in the back seat, shutting the door behind him. “Man,” Cater sighed, “I’m soaked.”

“Here,” Mirai mumbled, pulling a napkin from his bag, handing it over to Cater.

“Thanks.”

The ride was an hour, and thirty minutes in, they finally reached the city. It was so big, skyscrapers everywhere, cars all over the streets, people everywhere with umbrellas and raincoats. Mirai loved it. There was so much to do, so much to see, there was so much life. It reminded him of home back in California, it reminded him of New York. It was almost nostalgic, as if he’s been there before, and it made him miss home.

“You like it?” Cater asked, chuckling at how Mirai was practically glued to the window.

“Yeah,” Mirai said, finally more awake than ever. “It reminds me of home.”

“Do you miss home?”

“Yeah, but not enough to want to go back forever.”

It looked like there was some traffic, but it wasn’t that bad. Their driver stopped behind a line of cars, and Mirai took the chance to admire the big building next to him. It was huge and the entire thing looked like it was made of glass. There were escalators, and three rotating doors, and in the middle of it all was a sign that read Nirvana.

“Thank sir,” Cater called, getting out of the car, “Have a great night.”

The driver waved to Cater, giving him thanks as well, “Thank you! And you too!”

Mirai was speechless. Cater opened the Mirai’s door and took his hand, leading out of the car, and Mirai just moved on autopilot. This was their hotel? They were actually staying here? Cater led him inside where they had to take an elevator to the 35th floor. The way there, Mirai was in awe. The whole building had a black and gold Eastern inspired design, and Mirai couldn't tell what emotion he felt seeing it all. Once they exited the elevator, they were right in the middle of the lobby of the Nirvana Hotel. It was breathtaking. The seating area next to the floor to ceiling windows looked so elegant, and down right classy.

Just like downstairs, the lobby continued with the white, black and gold theme. The receptionist desk was made of pure marble, and even the floors were marble. On the far wall was a traditional ink brushed mural that Mirai couldn’t get enough of, and all the little accents around the room were what Mirai would call European and Asian inspired. The warm gold lighting was inviting, comforting, casting the room in a hazy golden glow. There was even a roaring fireplace in the corner where a couple of chatting patrons sat around it.

Mirai walked over to the railing where he spotted another seating area and more so much more. The blonde couldn’t believe he was standing in the middle of it all. Mirai practically gravitated to the windows where he looked down at the city below. It was breathtaking, it really was. Mirai fished out his camera and started taking pictures of anything it would pick up. The lighting, the art, the chairs, the view, everything.

Mirai turned around and Cater was standing behind him, his own phone poised, taking a picture of Mirai.

“Oh yeah, that’s totes going on my Magicam,” Cater said looking at the picture. “Who knew my super cute boyfriend was so Magicamable?”

Mirai pouted, and took a picture of Cater in return.

“So, you ready to head up, or do you wanna take more pictures?” Cater asked, flashing their little pamphlet that held their key cards.

“I’m ready to go up,” Mirai answered.

Cater led them to the elevator where they rode it to the thirty ninth floor. The hall was dimly lit with wooden walls and blue carpets. The couple didn’t even have to walk far since their room was the first on the floor, room 3901. Mirai read the plaque next to the door. It read “The Nirvana Suite.” Cater pulled out his keycard and pressed it against the scanner, it gave a chime and flashed green, the deadbolt throwing, and Cater opened the door, letting Mirai in first. Mirai searched for the light switch, finding a couple of buttons, Mirai pushed one and the entire room lit up, and Mirai was instantly floored. Mirai made a sound akin to a dying cat and Cater cackled.

“This is not our room,” Mirai breathed, flabbergasted, “There’s no way this is our room.”

“It is,” Cater laughed.

“I can’t, we can’t, how can-” Mirai couldn’t get his words or thoughts together and felt like he needed to sit down.

“Whoa there, calm down, Babe. It’s okay. My dad’s paying for all of it.”

“That’s worse,” Mirai shouted.

“He insisted. It’s fine, really.”

Mirai couldn’t get his words together, he couldn’t get his thoughts together, he felt as if his brain was melting from his ears. He felt like he didn’t deserve any of this, that he wasn’t worthy of this. He felt just being there would somehow contaminate everything.

“Do, do you really not like any of this?” Cater asked, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“N-No, no.” Mirai sighed. “I love it. It’s so nice, but I feel like I’m not worth all of this. I just want to repay you somehow.”

“You don’t have to, Baby, this isn’t supposed to be transactional. Just you being here with me is enough. But maybe I did come on a little too strong with all of this? The First Class plane ride, now the five star luxury suite? Kinda feels like I’m throwing my money in your face, doesn’t it? Talk about #Showoff moment.”

“You're fine. It’s a bit much for me, but I like it. I’m glad that I, of all people, could do something like this.”

“So you’re not put off by all of this?”

“It’s just a lot to take in, to, ya’know, take in I guess. Like yes, this is happening, like yeah, I’m here.”

“Kay,” Cater said, relieved.

“So,” Mirai asked after a moment of silence, “Is this the norm for you, like y'know, at home?”

“Y-Yeah. I don’t like to flaunt it, and I definitely don’t want anyone to know,” Cater said awkwardly, “But I wanted to spoil you, I wanted you to know this was part of me, but even with all of that, I’m still me.”

“And I’d love you no less.”

Mirai and Cater toured their room, it was huge and beautifully decorated, it was like a mini apartment, and one feature Mirai couldn’t ignore was the fact that the whole room had floor to ceiling windows, the room was practically made of glass. You could see so much of the city through them. Near the door was a small bathroom and a huge closet. It was beautifully made, the whole thing was made out of dark solid wood and the outside had a traditional Eastern artwork etched into it.

To the right was the dining area, the table seated ten, and a large crystal chandelier hung overhead. Past the dining table was a mirror that covered the entire wall, and etched into it was yet another mural. Mirai and Cater walked past the dining area into a small hallway, where they found a kitchen, the entire thing was fully functioning with an electric stove, a dishwasher, sink, refrigerator, and wine cooler. It even had a coffee machine equipped with luxury coffee pods. They exited the kitchen, looping back to the main room where they entered the living area to the left of the dining area.

It was so spacious and open. There were two love seats, two couches, an armchair, and in the middle of it all was a dark wood coffee table. Against one of the walls was a desk that was also a lounge chair that ran against one of the large windows where you could relax and take in the beautiful view. They even had binoculars and a telescope to see the city below better. In the next room was a private office equipped with its own tv behind two sliding doors and its own entrance to the bedroom.

“OMG! This is nice! Talk about #Luxury,” Cater gushed, taking even more pictures.

Mirai agreed with him. The bedroom had to be Mirai’s favorite room. The bedroom, just like the main room, had the floor to ceiling windows. It was on the smaller side, compared to the large layout of the room, but it was still bigger than average. The bed was a super king, the comforter a beautiful white and champagne. The headboard was beautifully decorated with little flowers sewn into the fabric. In front of the bed was a loveseat where you could sit and watch the tv that was behind two sliding doors. Next to the window was another lounge chair where you could look at the city views.

Mirai ran his hand along the bedspread as he walked by, it was so soft and plush. He doubted he would want to get up tomorrow morning.

“Babe! Look at this closest,” Cater called from the other side of the room.

Mirai entered a small hallway where he found Cater standing in a walk-in closet, posing for selfies. It was big, like, really big, even with the two of them standing in there together, there was still more than enough room to fit their bags, and the space for hanging clothes was more than enough for the two of them. Mirai wondered how many outfits would be needed to fill the entire thing.

“Oh yeah, when I graduate, I’m totally getting my closet built like this,” Cater said excitedly.

Mirai chuckled at his enthusiasm.

“Let’s check out the bathroom.”

The bathroom was amazing. There was a Jacuzzi tub on the far wall, a double vanity with built-in lighting and tv, and a small selection of fancy soaps.

“Where’s the toilet?” Mirai muttered.

“Maybe behind these doors?” Cater asked, pulling them open.

Behind one of two frosted glass doors was a huge shower with built-in seating, and behind the other was the toilet. It was nice. It gave whoever was using the toilet privacy just in case someone else needed the bathroom.

“This could fit like eight people in here,” Mirai said thoughtfully, looking at the shower.

“Oh? Does Mi-Mi wanna throw a shower party?” Cater teased. “So naughty.”

“W-What?! N-No I-”

“How about seven of me?”

Mirai’s words died on his lips, face flushing bright red as Cater crowded him, pulling him into his arms. Mirai was like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing. Mirai couldn’t get his words out, but the very image in his head had Mirai all hot from the inside out.

“Oh? Thinking dirty things?” Cater teased.

“N-No, I, it-it’s your fault for planting that image in my head,” Mirai stammered.

Cater chuckled, pulling Mirai close, “Hm? You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Cater teased, “Me, you, and six other mes, under all that hot water and steam?”

“Y-Yes,” Mirai shuddered as Cater ran his fingers through the hair on the back of his neck.

“Eh? For realsies?” Cater asked, flushing this time. “I was more teasing than I was serious.”

“You dug your grave, now you gotta lie in it,” Mirai smirked.

“You sure it wasn't you who dug their own grave?”

“Hm? I don’t know. I guess we’re gonna have to see and find out, won’t we?”