#LOOK WHO CAME IN THE MAIL THIS AFTERNOON

[starryproxi]

introducing the future to mordi: my laptop!

(he either doesn't know what to do or he's plotting my demise... 👁👁)

[thecameronchronicles]

A Cup Of Sugar

TW: age-gap (reader's over 18.), dirty talk, sex without condom, manipulative behavior.

SUMMARY: Your next door neighbor and crush asks for a favor and leaves with something else...

A Cup of Sugar

The blue house with the white shutters has always been a staple to your cul-de-sac community since you could remember. Block parties pulled everyone together through fake smiles to save face for those who would more than likely be thrilled to not have to speak ever again. But in the politics of jealous wives and HOAs came one glimmer of peace in your existence.

The man in the blue house and white shutters.

Rafe Cameron.

He stood classified to his thoughts, his eyes always dancing over some shaven blades of grass paid to appear so perfect. He offered the waves to those to his caliber and always left you with a kind smile before slipping back inside. And this is how it had been for two decades. Since you were the little girl with pigtails who walked over with your parents to welcome him and his wife to the neighborhood before you could even look him in the eyes. And now, you dreamed of those eyes looking down on you for an entirely different reason.

You were always on the cusp of being noticed, putting increases effort when it was least expected. Even going out to check the mail you made yourself flawless in what you could, only ever getting the politeness from him.

At least until your eighteenth birthday. You caught his gazes lingering, your heart picking up speed, and his words a bit more adult than normal.

-------

A knock pulls you from the mundane afternoon where even the recent slew of TikTok trends over your FYP page do little to pass the time. Once opening the door, you silently curse not giving yourself a once-over in your camera before pulling it open.

"Mister Cameron. My dad isn't here..." The corner of his lips pull upwards.

"I know. I'm sorry to bother you, uh...do you have any sugar?" You stare, helplessly lured and anchored into the beckoning of him. Having always been attracted to the forbidden man across the street of blue eyes full of intimidation and cautious hands silently strong, you find it difficult to keep from showing it.

"Sugar? Um...let me check..." You move inside and hear him follow in uncertain steps before the door finally closes.

Once you come to the cabinet full of baking ingredients seldom used, already aware if you have any sugar it is probably more in brick form than edible, you play the time anyway to keep him in your company.

"Is Madison making something for Cheer or-"

"Let me help..." He stands behind you, shadowing you enough to nearly swallow you in his height alone, as he reaches over the cabinet.

"This cabinet?" You nod, facing him. His smirk remains on you as he makes no effort to actually seek out the sugar and simply holds his hand beside you as if to block you in.

"Mister Cameron..."

"Did you know that when your window is open at night that I can hear you in my backyard?" You blush, trying to imagine if there was anything embarrassing you had done. Played music too loud? Argued with your (now ex) boyfriend and it keeping him awake? Talked to yourself? Only God, it wasn't about him was it?

"Did I? I'm sorry. If I was too loud-"

"I can hear everything from the concerts you put on...to that which you do after you think everyone has gone to sleep..." He leans against you, his cologne dizzying you.

"I..." There is no mystery to his thinly veiled innuendo.

"You heard..." You can't say the words aloud, never having the chance as nobody else has ever been so brazen.

"Everything, Y/N. Or at least enough to know exactly what it is you need..." You blink in disbelief as all words thicken on your tongue, refusing to formulate.

"I-"

"You don't have to deny it. I know exactly what you need....Let me give it to you?" You swallow hard, trying to understand how this is happening. Manifestation truly works if your silent prayers had gone unanswered.

"I don't know-"

You are lifted onto the counter and he stands between your parted legs. It is a quick moment that feels as if it is in slow motion to the feeling of his hands on you.

"You want to know what else I know?" You swallow and nod, curiosity succeeding over logic.

"You can only come with my name on your tongue..." He kisses you with intent. Not to be gentle or loving but to claim. He doesn't wait for you to find breath or even steady against him as he uses the grip on your hips to pull you to him. You hold at his shirt for stability and it only makes him growl as your nails find him instead.

"You need what only I can give you, isn't that right, sweetheart?" You nod, too intoxicated by his touch to want to tempt fate to sober.

"I know nobody will be home for at least a few hours. You know how I know? Because I made sure of it. Now open those thighs for me-" You open and he scoffs, rubbing his jaw as he sees you not only eager but ready as you've completely soaked through your panties.

"I've had to listen for months while you got yourself off thinking nobody could hear you. But I did. And I wondered if you were doing it just to fuck with me or if you were really REALLY that desperate to come...next time, you say my name I'm taking it as a call and I'll make you come. Bet this sexy fucking ass on that." He grips the part of your ass exposed to him before he leans forward.

"Because I've had to hear you and now, you're gonna show me..." He pulls your panties to the side and rubs his cock up and down those lips.

"God, you're so fucking wet, it's almost pathetic." He moans before pushing the bulbous head of his dick closer to your entrance.

"Yesssss." He hisses as you gasp. He's wide, thick, and hot in every sense of the word. The coarse hair usually hidden to the naked eye is now stroking against you as he pulls back far enough to see the slickness you left behind on him.

"That's it....coat my fucking cock." He groans as he continues to thrust brutally and withdraw in almost torturous strides as you are breathless and wordlessly in awe. It is erotic, and almost painful, before he huffs.

"You sound so much better stuffed with me than whatever you were doing. What was it? Hmmm? Your fingers?" You nod, embarrassment rising up your body.

"And it was only me you thought of, yeah? None of those useless boys who can only dream of filling you like I can, right?" When you don't answer, he grips the back of your neck. "RIGHT?!"

You nod as he hoists your flat feet up to the counter so you're completely wide to him. His speed is no longer traceable as he's just pounding into you. Hand stabilizing himself in the cabinet above you, he rams into you with the force awakening something bold within you. You claw at his back and through his hair before kissing him again, instigating it all as he reciprocates with heady excess.

"Trying to get me to notice you in those bikinis and shorts like I could ever ignore you? Fuck, Y/N you're so wet for me aren't you? Gonna come hard? Maybe I should make you wait like you made me." He patronizes behind a humored growl. His head comes back, throwing it in pleasure as his face comforts, mouth wide and almost in disbelief as he grips the flesh of your hips with a punishable clutch.

"You need to come, you come to me. For me."

"Mister Cameron-"

"You call me Rafe when I'm this deep inside of you. Understand?"

"Yes R-Rafe."

"Good. Now scream it while I make you come and then I fill you up." The kitchen shudders around you as he thrusts and retracts, in and out, hard and deep. You were already sore but now you feel expanded and exhausted as he grips the back of your neck and pushes his mouth against yours. Not to kiss, to inform, and maybe even earn through a clenched repetition of "mine".

"Say it!" He calls out as you nod, agreeing in desperation as he showcases his approval on the final snaps of his hips before you feel him flood your womb in all that you were responsible for.

"Ahh fuck, yes I needed that..." He sighs as you keep your eyes on him as he pulls out of you. Without a care to clean up anything more than the space between you, he conceals himself back within his pants and shakes his head.

"So fucking sweet." He walks to the door and you're suddenly left half naked and empty.

"Wh-what about the sugar you needed?" You question, hoping it'll make him stay. With his brilliant smile and tempting lips purposed to a smirk, he grins.

"I got what I came for,. sweetheart." You sit in awe, realizing he took more than he left, including the fact you hadn't come. It was a play for power you gave him willingly and as much as you wanted to be the one in control, you knew you'd falter against him. Having a taste of him, you were eager for the next. Suddenly addicted to the man across the street you've loved and lusted for in equal measure since you could remember...

MASTERLIST

[atskiruma]

his attempts at courting you

expl: he finds himself thinking about you more often, wanting to seek you out consistently, and giving you numerous gifts every day to see you smile

a/n: it has come to my attention that the last ff i wrote, (snow day) was not very well depicted for all readers to enjoy, i want to apologize for that and promise that i will get better at trying to make sure everyone is able to read it and enjoy it, my writings are targeted for all | unfortunately, i can not edit it right now seeing as there's a poll going on, but once that poll is finished i will change my wording in the ff

ask me anything masterlist

second person writing no pronouns used

Zhongli often felt himself thinking about you more often while he was working around the parlor. Even seeking out your name in conversations and listening more attentively when someone was speaking about you. It didn't confuse him though, he was aware of his interest in you.

You opened up the warmth in his heart and welcomed him kindly every time you two saw each other. It made him happy to see you happy, and this was evident when flowers were delivered directly to your door one sunny afternoon.

"These are for you," The mail lady said before turning around and walking away to do more deliveries. You didn't even get to ask who they were from before she was gone. Staring down at the bouquet of tiger lilies in front of you, you could only assume that the bright orange and black colors could depict a certain someone's hair color.

It was a nice piece on your kitchen counter and went well with the other decorations spiraling around your house. That was, until the next morning, you were greeted again with another gift. A bright orange vase to compliment the tiger lilies you received the other day. It was funny, why was he going out of his way to send you such nice gifts?

You finally managed to confront him when you saw Childe and Zhongli sitting together on the seats of an outside cafe. Walking over and waving to the both of them. They greeted you back, and small talk was given for only a couple minutes.

"I actually came over here to thank Zhongli," This caught his attention, and he turned to look up at you, "I really loved the flowers you sent and the vase goes really well with them too!" You said while smiling.

He nodded back at you, seemingly collecting himself extremely quickly at the fact you figured out so quick who it was. "I'm glad you liked them," He said.

"I came to give you this in return," You said," "I know it's probably not as extravagant as the ones you gave me, but I like it." Handing over the small gift box, he opened it and smiled softly at the item. It was a small keychain, nothing special, and it was decorated with a lovely orange seem.

That same keychain would be hung up right next to his bedframe, along with variant letters you sent him on the table accompanying it.

Diluc was someone who took courting another person seriously. He found it tradition since his father had spoken so much of it when Diluc was younger. He always wanted to treat the one he loved with respect and be as much of a gentleman as possible.

This was why you were taking a stroll with him through his grapevines on a sunny afternoon. He offered for you to come down to the Winery a couple days ago and you had just gotten around to accepting his offer. His hand rested on your back as he took you through multiple different paths and explained everything. As you strolled, he talked about things concerning the vine, his profits, the seasons they needed to be planted, etc.

You smiled at him, knowing it was something he took dear to his heart, and listened very attentively to what he was saying. In reality, Diluc was really hoping that all he was talking about didn't bore you in any way.

Then, the next couple of hours were spent sitting in his large dining room, eating food made by the cooks in his home. It was nice, and you were very happy that he wanted to spend this much time with you. Diluc even found himself watching you eat here and there, asking you if the food was good or if you needed anything else in the time being.

After everything was over, and the night sky shined over the two of you as you stood outside his doors, he leaned down and pressed a small kiss to your hand. Telling you how much of a pleasure it was to have you here, and how he wished you could stay longer.

Diluc even offered to walk you home, tediously not taking no for an answer, he reached down to take your hand and hold it the whole walk home.

Alhaitham was very closed off when he first met you, he was closed off with anyone in general. He found it strange that you always seemed to be there when he was thinking about you, and when his eyes would try and search a room in the akademiya for you.

He realized that something had to be done about this, so, he did what any other raging nerd would do, and researched about it.

You also found it odd when you'd see him looking at you from across the library, or holding the door open for you whenever you'd walking behind him. Alhaitham always seemed like the guy who only cared about his own, yet he was so evident in helping you out here and there.

Helping you when you'd be confused about a book, rewording your essays to make them better. Alhaitham seemed to want to assist you with almost everything. This was no different than today.

You found yourself back at the library looking down at a long-written parchment on the forest rangers' activities. Trying to figure out how you could make this work in the essay you were conducting on Sumeru's forest.

This was when you heard the chair scrap right next to you, and looked up from where you had originally been focused. Alhaitham took his seat next to you, slightly taking up more space than necessary with his manspreading.

"Do you need help with that? It looks like a longer report than usual for you."

"Longer than usual?" You shot back, "Are you saying that I'm not capable of reading this?" His eyes widened a bit and he instantly tried to retort his original statement. "No, no, I thought- Well- You know you usually read shorter reports in order to get more details. I didn't think you'd take something this large to account."

His confession made you smile, and you leaned in closer, "How'd you know how I like my reports?" At the response with your cheeky grin, a blush formed on his cheeks before he looked away.

"Scholars are supposed to be attentive, it's natural to know a few things you prefer in order to work best with you."

The response he sent back your way caused you to roll your eyes and turn back to what you were originally doing. "To answer your question, no, I do not need help, but thank you for offering."

That didn't seem to make him budge, because he kept sitting there watching you copy down and write words from the book.

"You misspelled climate."

The sound of a book colliding with his head echoed throughout the library.

Ayato enjoyed your company, a lot, so much that he seeks you out anytime he and his sister go down to festivals or strolls through the city. He always wanted to start up a conversation with you, and if anyone else walked by anytime he'd be down there, Ayato would be right next to you listening with a smile at whatever you said.

Ayaka loved you too and found it amusing that her brother was so interested in you. She often found herself trying to spark up conversations with you, asking if her older brother proposed yet in a joking manner.

You laughed it off, Ayato was nice but you were sure he had other rich and important people to concern his love life with. He was just a very nice man to talk with here and there, and you didn't seem to notice that you were one of the few he'd actually seek out.

That was, until, every time he saw you, he came with some form of jewelry or expensive item to give you. Asking you how your day was, what you were doing, and if you wanted to come to spend some time up at the estate with him.

"What about Ayaka?" You said with a tilt of your head in confusion. He smiled back and said, "I'm sure she'd rather stay down here and explore more of the shops.

Ayaka would have loved to come along, but before she could even turn around, the two of you were already heading back up to the estate.

He catered to you, made sure you were comfortable, and even asked if you'd like anything from his personal chefs. It was a bit much to handle, seeing as you weren't used to living so luxurious, but he was very nice about it all and understood.

The catering didn't stop after that day either, more and more people began to wonder why the Kamisato siblings were spending so much more time outside their palace. Ayaka once mentioned that you loved a certain color, and the next day Ayato was handing you a box with that color, and a necklace with the pearl containing that color too.

He even found himself marching over to you when he saw someone speaking to you in a more flirtatious matter. Moving next to you and asking if everything was alright while his hand wrapped around your own.

[hairyjocktf]

A Hairy Remedy

Mark had been pacing back and forth all afternoon, waiting for the mail to arrive. He couldn’t focus on anything else, he’d been waiting weeks for this delivery and it was scheduled to arrive today. Every noise from outside had him rushing to the windows to peek through the blinds. Mark was nearly 30, yet looked barely 20. He’d endured a decade of people making fun of him for having a babyface or being too effeminate, and he’d had enough. After some research online he found some articles and testimonies about Rogaine, a hair growth cream aimed at guys who were balding. While that was the furthest thing from a problem for him, Mark found people on some forums that had used it elsewhere, who wanted to thicken up their beards and more. The before and after pictures he had seen had sold him, and he immediately went and ordered some online. 

He took a break from mindlessly pacing around to use the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror really illustrated how right his bullies had been. His skin was completely smooth, with barely any peach fuzz on his face. That would change soon, he thought, a beard would surely age him up a good bit. Not that he wanted to look old, but not being carded at every bar would be nice. The doorbell rang, and Mark tripped over himself trying to bolt to the front door. Yanking it open, he saw a small package on the mat, with the delivery van already speeding off. He quickly snatched up the box and slammed the door, giddy with excitement. Mark raced to the kitchen to grab the scissors, shredding the cardboard box open to reveal his prize. He held the tube of cream delicately in his palm like it was a newborn. This was it, his saving grace, he thought.

He quickly scanned the pamphlet that came with the cream, notably reading the line, “WARNING: This product has NOT been tested on areas outside of the scalp. We do not recommend usage anywhere besides the scalp, and cannot guarantee results.” Eh, he’d seen it work on guys online, it must be safe enough. Without further thought Mark dashed into the bathroom, staring at his pathetic reflection in the mirror. He felt a sense of power unlike anything before, knowing he held his fate in his hands. He nearly let out a comically evil laugh before realizing he was getting ahead of himself. It was just hair growth medication.

Mark opened the tube and squeezed some of the cream into his palm. Now was time for decisions. He probably should have thought this part through a little more, but no matter, he thought. He began to rub the cream into his face, making sure to stay in the lines of where a beard would grow. Starting with his upper lip, he massaged the cream into his bare skin, working from there down to his chin and then across his cheeks. The ointment was cool and tingled a little as he applied it. Despite his caution, while getting the underside of his jaw he heard a splatter. 

Looking down, he saw a white glob of the cream had fallen directly onto his chest. “Shit, that’s not good,” he cursed to himself. He grabbed a nearby towel before pausing. A smirk spread across Mark’s face as the thought dawned on him. Why not leave it? A little chest hair couldn’t hurt, he thought. The goal was to look a little older anyway. With a devious grin plastered on his face he started to rub the cream into his chest, most of it between his small pecs and spreading it out from there. Satisfied with the treatment he capped the tube and went back to the living room. Now came the hard part: waiting. He went back to check the package to see how long it would take.

“Four to six MONTHS?!” he wailed. He hadn’t bothered to look at a timeline or anything in his research, and this news was devastating to him. He’d expected it to take a while to work, but half a year? That was just too long. With an overwhelming amount of disappointment in his head, Mark collapsed onto the couch and turned on some TV. The rest of the day faded away as he tried to distract himself from how bummed he was. He turned in fairly early, it was Sunday anyway and he had to get up early for work the next morning. With one last glance in the mirror he confirmed that nothing had happened, and went to bed. 

The morning came in an instant, with Mark’s phone alarm wailing into the quiet sunrise until he rolled out of bed. He begrudgingly made his way to the bathroom and started getting his shower ready when he passed by the mirror and did a double take. He stared at his reflection, dropping his towel on the floor in shock. He had stubble. Not just a little peach fuzz, no, a decent layer of it all across his jaw. His hand slowly moved to touch it, to make sure it was real. His fingers grazed over the tips of the scratchy hairs, the prickly feeling sending shivers through his body. It had worked, overnight even! His grin widened as he looked down to see a dusting of hair on his chest where he’d rubbed the cream. He had chest hair! It wasn’t particularly dark or dense but that didn’t matter to him, he actually looked like he’d gone through puberty now. The hairs had sprouted in the center of his chest and spread out towards his nipples, growing long enough to start curling a little. 

With a renewed energy Mark hopped in the shower and continued getting ready for work. He was giddy with excitement, and couldn’t stop feeling the rough stubble on his face. He threw on his slacks and button down shirt and hopped in his car, nearly late from getting distracted so much. Thoughts were racing through his mind on the way to the office; what would people think? He walked in with a swagger he’d never felt at his job before, making his way to his desk and hoping someone would comment. It took until he and some coworkers left to get lunch for anyone to notice, however.

“Hey Mark, growing out a beard are you? I didn’t think you had it in you,” his coworker laughed. “It looks good so far!” he made sure to follow it up with. Mark beamed, someone had noticed! It was really happening. This may have been the best day of his life for all he could care. Anytime he was in private he would have one hand on his cheek and one on his chest, feeling the soft hairs. He could feel his cock jump at the sensation, pushing against his rather tight dress pants. Luckily no one could see that at his desk, he thought, moving one hand to rub down there. A couple other people commented on his new facial hair throughout the day, and Mark was ecstatic. This feeling was electric, addictive almost, he loved the attention and slight amount of respect the stubble seemed to have given him.

Before he knew it the work day was over and Mark scrambled to pack up his belongings to try and beat the rush. In the elevator down he scratched at his face, another grin plastered across his face. He had the classic 5 o’clock shadow for the first time, he thought to himself with a chuckle. A hardworking businessman he was now. He got entirely caught up in the rush hour traffic, but even that couldn’t put a damper on his day. An hour later he was home, walking through the kitchen and dumping his coat and bag. He entered the bathroom to wash his hands and splash some water on his face when he spotted the tube of Rogaine still sitting on the vanity. Mark stared at it, the elated feelings of the day still fresh in his mind. A thought began creeping up from the back of his mind, one that scared him, but also made his cock lurch in his pants.

What if I put on a little more? 

That was the end of it. The idea consumed him, and within seconds he’d torn off his dress shirt and was squeezing more cream into his hands. He spread a thick layer of it across his upper lip, feeling the stubbly hairs that now dotted the area. He then spread more out across his cheeks, which had a decent shadow of stubble across them. Next up was his chest. In the morning he’d been thrilled by the amount of hair now adorning the area, but now he craved more. He pushed more cream from the tube and spread it over a much wider area, from his nipples all the way up to his collarbone, and everything in between. Finishing that up, he realized he’d gotten some extra cream all over his hands, which he rubbed in without a thought. 

The feeling of mania slowly dwindled as he put the cream away and carried on with his night. As he ate dinner he began to worry that he’d gone too far, maybe he should have just waited. It was too late now, though, so he bottled up that worry and watched some TV before getting ready for bed. 

Mark bolted upright when the alarm sounded the next morning. He tore off his sheets and ran to the mirror to take a look at himself.

It had worked again! His stubble was thicker now, with a more pronounced mustache. The hairs on his upper lip were denser and longer, though the rest of his facial hair had also filled in somewhat even if it was still short. But the real showstopper was his chest. The hairs had spread far from the day before, crawling up his pecs all the way where he spread the cream. The hair was thicker, denser, and made him feel exceedingly masculine. He couldn’t believe it. He ran a hand over the more prominent chest hair, the soft hairs tingling under his fingers. His cock rose to attention in his boxers as he lost himself briefly in the moment, unconsciously rubbing his nipple with the other hand. Control slipping away from him, Mark began to moan as he pinched his nipple, feeling the stubble and chest fur that had sprouted. Moments later a rush filled his body, his cock shooting rope after rope of cum onto the mirror. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, coming back to his senses. What the hell was that? It had felt amazing, but it was as if a primal instinct had taken over him. He watched the cum slide down the mirror for a minute before snapping fully back to reality; he had to get to work! He quickly wiped as much cum off the glass as he could before hopping in the shower and getting dressed. He bolted out the door without eating breakfast, having realized how late he was. Just how long had he been feeling himself in there? 

He parked and scrambled to an elevator inside. In his haste he’d forgotten to button his shirt up all the way, but he noticed in the mirror that some of his new chest hair peeked out of the top. It looked masculine, virile even. He played with a couple of the hairs before the door opened on his floor and he had to act natural. The day was fairly uneventful, other than a couple different coworkers commenting on his stubble and mustache. Mark felt even more confident today than he had yesterday, despite the chaotic morning. As afternoon rolled around, he even unbuttoned his shirt a little more, letting the newly grown hairs breathe. He lounged at his desk getting some of his work done but mostly basking in his newfound masculinity, occasionally sneaking a rub of his chest hair.

Soon enough the day was over again, and Mark made his way home. He was thrilled with how he was looking, but somehow he’d gotten less attention today than before. That didn’t sit right with him. While stuck in traffic he tried to figure it out, going through scenarios and situations from the day. Maybe… he thought he was making progress but in the eyes of others he looked the same. Frustrated, he barged through the door of his house and grabbed a beer from the fridge before landing on the couch. He turned on the TV and cracked it open, slowly sipping away at it as the light outside faded into dusk. Finishing that beer, he went for another, nursing it and watching some mediocre movies. Eventually the beers caught up to him, and having to pee badly he hopped up and went to the bathroom. There, on the counter, was the tube of Rogaine.

It seemed to burn a hole in his vision, everything else fading away. The feelings of the last day flooded back to him; the confidence of being hairy, the frustration of it not being enough, the pleasure of cumming to his own hairy body. Mark felt the same devilish thought clawing back into his head, but no longer as a question. It was a desire.

I need more.

He opened the tube again, squirting the cream directly onto his chest this time, slathering it all across his pecs and down over his stomach. He rubbed the cream deep into his already decently hairy chest, before taking more and coating his face with another layer. Mark was spreading far too much cream on, and from his jaw it began dripping down his neck. He couldn’t care less. His logical self had taken a backseat, his body being driven by a deep seated need, a desire he’d been unaware of. Mark stripped off the rest of his work clothes and kept at it. He continued to smear the cream across his torso, spreading it from his chest up and over his collarbone onto his shoulders. He was so engrossed in rubbing the cream into his skin that he was oblivious to the slight itch that began cropping up under the thick paste.

Mark wiped the excess cream onto his forearms and stared into the mirror, breaths ragged. He’d worked himself into a sweat. The droplets streamed down his skin, pulling the cream with it. His eyes surveyed his wet, ointment covered skin for anything. That was when he noticed the itch. It had grown stronger, more prevalent over his chest as the skin began reacting to the heavy dose of cream laid on. Hairs started to push out of his chest, darker and thicker than the ones before. They grew longer as more and more filled in the spaces between. Mark’s cock grew harder as he watched the hairs sprout, feeling them coming in between his fingers. The hairs thickened into a dark rug, completely coating his chest and crawling upward, thick whorls of hair overtaking his collarbone. His neck, which had been bare until now, began darkening as the shadow of hair crept up over it. Long strands erupted from the base, continuing the chest hair up onto his neck; no collar would ever hide these dark hairs. His stubble crept down from his jaw to meet in the middle, growing darker and pushing out farther from his face. His nicely trimmed stubble was quickly becoming a scruffy mess, with the wiry beard hairs erupting all over his face. Mark used his tongue to feel the longer hairs pushing out of his upper lip, curling over and spreading over his cheeks. He was really tenting his boxers now.

The hairs began moving south, down from his chest in a line towards his navel. The thick line of fur blossomed outward across his belly, darkening the area with long tangled hairs that blotted out the skin. Mark rubbed his hand over the growing fur, groaning from the stimulation of the hairs under his hand. Without thinking he reached back for the tube of Rogaine, pushing more out into his hands before absolutely coating his pits in the stuff. He scratched and scratched as the itch spread from his chest there, looking like a monkey as near instantly thick black hairs shot out of his bare underarms. One after another they pressed out, his fingers clawing through a denser and denser bush. Soon enough they’d overwhelmed the area with a thick tuft of tangled hair, spreading even further to connect with the rug on his chest. Mark was overcome by the tingling feeling of hairs bursting from his skin, surrendering himself even more to what was happening. 

When he finally pulled his hands out of his pits they didn’t escape unscathed. The backs of his hands were coated with thick hairs, and as he pulled one up to his face to look closer he could see more worming their way out of his knuckles. The sight alone was enough for a glob of precum to shoot into his boxers. The hairs didn’t end there, however. They surged up his forearms, a tangled forest of black hairs erupting and growing dense. The same followed on his upper arms, connecting seamlessly to the dense fur coating his shoulders. He felt the signature itch of the hair growth spread from his shoulders down across his back. Turning in the mirror, he saw thousands of dark spots appear across his shoulder blade and race down towards his ass. Seconds later every spot erupted into thick curly hair, follicles pushing them out longer and longer. The mat thickened over his back as hairs curled and tangled together, especially right above his waistband. 

His body wasn’t done yet. Mark felt an intense prickling under his boxers and quickly pulled them down, scratching relentlessly at his inflating ass. He could feel as the prickles turned into wiry hairs, pushing out across his cheeks. He groaned as the feeling of thick hairs growing like fur in his crack was too much, shoving his hands in there to feel the thick pelt erupting from his skin. His eyes nearly rolled back as he felt up his tight hole surrounded by a jungle of hair, his cock harder than he’d ever felt it before and leaking like a faucet. The fog he had felt absorbed in just that morning was returning, his body acting on its own in search of masculinity and pleasure. The hair growth only served to fuel that fire, spreading from his ass down his legs in a thick carpet over his thighs. The curls popped up from the skin, thickening as they pressed out from his skin into a fuzzy coating all the way to his feet.

Mark slid further and further into the recesses of his mind, intoxicated from testosterone as his body continued to change. His self-indulgence reached a crescendo as every other desire slipped away, flushed out of him through the faucet that was his dripping cock. 

More hair.

His hand reached for the tube again, emptying the last of it into his palm before reaching to grasp his rock hard cock. He slid his hand up and down, coating it in the cream and letting the rest drip all over his groin. A moan slipped out as he continued to pump his member, it slowly growing thicker and longer as it absorbed the cream. More drops of cream splattered into his sparse bush, Fertilizing the ground for what was next. Dark hairs began popping out of his skin, dark and thick. They pushed out longer than his old hairs, filling in the space between them rapidly. 

More hair.

His pubes erupted in mere minutes, a dense triangle of fur filling out his crotch, tangling and curling together as the scent of musk and ointment grew stronger. The hairs continued their conquest, reaching up to his stomach and out over his thighs. His balls swelled larger before becoming enshrouded in a carpet of their own. His cock continued pushing out longer as Mark pumped away, groaning as it grew thicker and more sensitive. 

He wasn’t done yet, as more and more hairs filled in all over, rugs connecting into a massive carpet of body hair. The hairs were ever crawling up the shaft of his massive cock thanks to the cream. Mark’s breathing had grown intense, groaning nonstop as instinct took over completely. One hand rubbing through his thick fur and the other edging him closer and closer to climax. He could feel the tingle as the hairs lengthened and thickened, coarse hairs rubbing against each other as they matted together.

He roared as everything finally peaked, his cock erupting with rope after rope of cum. It went everywhere, getting tangled in all his new grown fur. He continued pumping load after load out, an unbelievable amount of cum poured out of him onto his hairy body. He gasped as every pump of his cock sent immense waves of pleasure through him, squeezing every last drop of cum out. He let go of his softening member and moved his hands to his chest, feeling the sticky cum in all the hair. 

“Fuuuuuck yes…” he groaned as he rubbed the cum into his fur just as he’d done with the cream earlier. His bush was completely soaked with cum, and he could feel the hairs thickening as he massaged the area. All over his body, the cum served only to encourage even more growth, and quicker than the Rogaine ever had. Dark hairs pressed out between previous ones, covering him in a dense pelt that hid his skin beneath. Cum slowly dribbled out of his cock as the pleasure swept through his system. The fog in his head slowly dissipated, and Mark was brought back to the forefront of his brain. The primal instincts that had control for the past hour gave up their hold. He stared at himself in the mirror for a minute. Black fur coated his whole body, cum dripped from patches all over him. His cock was now dangling at eight inches soft. He slowly moved his arms to feel the hair growing all over him, trying to process his reality. He only managed to get two words out.

“Oh, fuck.”

[imaprettygirl]

A drop of ink, a blot spread across time

(Vintage au)

Plot summary: It was 1950s when pen pals were popular and almost everyone had one! You used to have a handful of them but the camaraderie between you and them faded as you got older. One day, you found a newspaper on your late great-grandpa's shelves in his bedroom. Excitedly, you flipped the papers to get to a specific page and bingo! There was a section for the addresses of people who are looking for a pen-friend much like yourself. After randomly choosing, you sent out your first letter and he replied back! However, you noticed something weird in the photo he sent...

Crds to @drinkthesky for the divider!

Men I deem fit: Alhaitham, Albedo, Imbibitor Lunae/Dan Heng, Dr Ratio, Diluc, Zhongli, Venti, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Sunday.

(Fck alphabetical order, I can't do that sh*t)

The amber glow of the afternoon sun bathed the room as the open windows situated at the opposite of the door allowed sunlight streams to enter the room as its panes quivered in hushed symphony due to the beckoning of the hot air. If you moved closer to the windows, you could see dust particles illuminated by the natural light. Even after the passing of your great-grandfather, the bookish scent of his cologne still lingers in his bedroom along with his possessions which were either coated with a thin layer of dust or covered with a big white cloth.

The wooden floor creaked beneath you as you walked towards his bookshelves in hopes of finding pieces of classical literature and maybe learn a thing or two from it. You delicately traced your index finger through the long vertical rows of books, leaving a trail of dust on the pads of your digit. As you peruse through countless novels only to be unsatisfied until you saw a newspaper at the edge of the shelf, untouched by the dust that plagues the rest.

'How strange...' you thought to yourself as you rubbed your thumb and index finger against the surface of the paper to determine its texture: it was sandy and rough, definitely ancient but the format was similar to the ones your dad reads in the morning so it must be a freshly produced newspaper, albeit printed in a different quality of paper.

Or so you thought...

The newspapers in your hands gave you a glimmer of hope; it was an opportunity to find a pen friend! You used to have a few ones but stopped writing to them either because they used too much colloquial words or they had at least twenty spelling mistakes in each sentence which gave you a migraine whilst trying to make out if your correspondent was writing in a foreign language or not. But this time, maybe you could hit the jackpot and find an actually nice pen-pal. Excitedly, you flipped through the papers and stopped at the specific page which had a list of names along with their addresses under the bold heading:

'Pen-friends! Make new friends around the world!'

Your eyes scanned across the list of names, allowing your intuition to guess the personality of that stranger based on their names alone. But then, a specific name caught your eye- it was uncommon which was the main reason it stood out from the rest of the names which probably were taken from 'Top 10 best names for children of this year'. You took a closer look of the address below that person's name and turned out, both of you lived in the same area! A surge of enthusiasm rippled throughout your body and immediately tucked the newspaper into the inside pocket of your coat.

~~~~~♡~~~~~♡~~~~~♡~~~~~

The curtains of your living room slowly opened as you peeked your head out and pressed your face against the glass. A day had passed after you had sent your very first letter and heck, you even went a mile far by sending a photograph of your two cats to make a memorable first impression. Then- just like you had anticipated- the postman on his bike suddenly came into view and halted his vehicle by your mail-box and placed a letter inside. You clutched the folds of the curtains unable to contain the happiness blossoming inside you. As soon as the postman disappeared out of your eyesight, you rushed outside to take the letter out of the mailbox. The first thing that greeted your eyes was the immaculate handwriting and the scent emitted from the paper.

'How sweet of him...' you thought as you continued reading the letter in your mind. The paragraphs were neatly organized and made of outdated vocabulary that you wouldn't understand had you not taken an interest in classic literature. You could tell this man practiced utmost eloquence just by his letter alone. Overall, he wrote a few things about himself and asked you about your hobbies, what you like and blablabla.

But then, something struck within you concerning with the photograph he sent and notes written behind it:

"The construction of the mall is making my ears bleed. I cannot stand the constant sounds of the drills and other sounds coming from it. I daresay, you must be experiencing the same disturbance as we are only one street apart from each other. Perhaps we should plan to meet up after the mall opens. What do you think of it?"

The more you stared at the photograph and the note, the more confused you became. The picture showed the mall with the same as the one down the street but it was still in construction according to the photo. 'Huh?' A frown stretched across your face. That specific mall had been going on more nearly a century now to the point that the community had been urging the government to shut it down in order to build a more innovative one. Didn't it finish construction like a hundred years ago? But his photo told a whole new different story.

Suspicions rose inside of you as a spiral of questions revolved around your head- you found it difficult to process it. Not missing a beat, you hurried to your room to find that newspaper you took from your late great-grandfather's shelf. You mumbled in frustration when you couldn't find it; you swore you left it either on the desk or on the bed. Finally, you found it under the bed and oh my...

The letter was published a century back in time which meant that...

"T-The man I just sent a letter...was from the past...." The newspaper dropped from your hands. Your letter had ripped its way out of the fabric of time and went into the mailbox of a man who lived in the same area as you but different time period. He was in the past, you were in the future.

Still, a part of you felt curious about the interaction between two people of different dimensions. So you decided to reply back to his letter. What could go wrong...right?

To people who are more knowledgeable in time travel or parallel universes, pls don't attack me, I know what I wrote may or may not make sense for some of you but pls don't mind me 😭😭😭

And also, not proofread because I wrote this around midnight and I'm literally on the verge of dozing off- (Ik I have such healthy sleep cycles and I have to wake up at 6 am yayyy!! Sleep-deprived-students-core😘🙆🤗)

[gravestrain]

And he feels like home (j. hughes)

Happy winter fic exchange! @one-night-story I am so thrilled to be able to have written this for you! I hope I created something that you love that you feel fully represented in and safe to read. 🩷

Demi @wyattjohnston, thank you as always for creating such a wonderful event for our community. Your hard work for these exchanges will never go unnoticed by me, I appreciate you so much.

And thank you to @thomasschabot for proofreading this for me and making sure it was accessible for all to read, I appreciate you so much my friend!

Title was taken from long story short by Taylor Swift. This is 4.7k words, gender neutral reader. It has been double checked by lovely c to ensure that it is safe for all to read <3

new neighbor

You considered yourself to be a very patient person. You were also extremely understanding. You didn't get upset or frustrated by much. You were a good person, sometimes you allowed people to get away with things for their own sake, even if it inconvenienced you in anyway. But at this point, you had had enough.

Since you moved into your apartment in August, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you had talked to your neighbors. You were in the corner apartment, the last at the end of the hall, your only neighbors being two young men who you presumed to be brothers.

You ran into them a few times in the hallway, the two of them hardly ever separated. You knew they left in the mid afternoon, usually in suits. You assumed it was for work, but you never felt inclined to ask. They usually look rushed, the older one pestering the younger one to "hurry up" as he got out the door.

It was only this week that you had learned their names. A piece of their mail had accidentally been dropped in your box. The name addressed as "Jack Hughes." You contemplated what to do with it, standing at their door with the letter in your hands for a few minutes when the door suddenly burst open, the younger brother opening the door.

"Oh! Hello," he muttered out awkwardly. Neither of you had known the other's name, but you both knew each other as neighbors. "Hi! Are you Jack?" You asked awkwardly, not holding out the card, making your question seem like a random inquiry. "No, I'm Luke, Jack is my brother. Why do you ask? Do you need something?" He asked in an almost bothered tone, as if people frequently came to him asking for unwanted favors.

"Oh! Duh. A piece of Jack's mail got put in my box by accident. I assume it's okay if I drop it with you?" You asked, making you almost instantly face palm. "Yep, that works. Anyway, I'm late to something. Thanks for dropping it off..." He mumbled off at the end, not knowing what to insert for your name. You told him your name, and that was that.

That was earlier this week. This was now Friday. Occasionally, you could tell that they had some small parties. Nothing too outlandish for an apartment building that shared thin walls, but a decent amount of people resulting in a louder volume. You were young yourself, you were never going to complain for a small amount of volume on the occasional Saturday night. This however, had been far too much.

You swear this was the 3rd night in a row of their little parties, and you had dealt with far too much. It was mid April, you were studying for a big exam you had. Part of your move in August was to signal the start of your journey to get your masters degree. You were almost done with the semester, just a few big exams in between, this being one of them. You knew that it seemed a little lame, studying for exams on a Friday night, but part of the move was moving to New Jersey where there was a school that was one of the best in the country for your intended major, not super close to home. With all of your studying and academic work, including working to pay for the apartment and schooling, you didn't have much time to socialize. You had gone to coffee with some people from your classes, but not much beyond that, not enough to warrant Friday night plans towards the end of the semester.

Slamming your textbook, you decided you had officially reached your limit. You paced back and forth a bit, trying to calm down a bit in an attempt to hopefully not absolutely lose it on your neighbor. It wasn't that late, but you had been studying all day with minimal breaks. You couldn't see the end of the studying in sight if your neighbors kept the music at the volume they had. You wondered how the people on the other side of them weren't bothered by the noise, but then again you had probably seen them even less than you had seen Jack and Luke.

You slipped your feet into the pair of shoes closest to the door, banging on the door in an attempt for them to hear it over the blaring music. You took a small step back when a man you didn't recognize answered the door. "Can I help you?" A dark haired man with an accent asked. Before you could open your mouth, a very energetic Jack came bustling towards the door. "Y/N! To what do I owe this pleasure?" He asked with a charming smile, almost causing your reserve to break down. But when your brain came back after the sound of the music blared through your ears, you remembered why you were over here.

"Do you know what time it is?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's only 11. It's a Friday night. But based on your casual attire, I doubt that matters much to you," Jack quipped at your casual pajamas. "For your information, Jack, I'm studying for a big exam. Clearly you don't know much about that." You snapped back.

"For your information, my team just made the playoffs. We have a lot to celebrate." Jack flexed, causing his chest to puff out a bit. "I don't care which of your beer league teams made the playoffs, but I would really like to pass my first year of my masters program and not have to repeat. That is, after all, how I ended up here, as your neighbor." You were starting to lose your patience, and instead of Jack surrendering, he started laughing.

"Beer league, huh. Do you not know?" You rolled your eyes. "If this is your attempt at a 'Do you know who I am?' moment, you're failing severely. Or even better, if it's going to be a 'do you know who my father is?' Just save me the time, I have an exam to study for," you had one foot out the door when Jack grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"Relax, I just figured you knew because that seems to be all anyone wants from us who lives in this building. Favors relating to our job. Luke and I play for the New Jersey Devils, the NHL team around here. It's okay that you don't know, however I hope now that you do, you'll choose us to be your favorite team." Jack smirked at you, causing you to giggle, which resulted in you immediately covering your mouth. What was happening to you? You didn't giggle over charming guys.

"Oh, did you guys win or something? Seems like an awfully long time to be celebrating one win," you quipped. "We made it into the playoffs. We are the number one seed. We've been celebrating for a few days because we have a bit of time off. I am sorry, it is probably excessive. We'll turn it down and remind the guys that we aren't the only ones who live here." Jack put his tail between his legs. You did feel a bit bad, but you were glad the noise was going to at least quiet down.

"I hope I didn't come off like a jerk, I just got flustered. I know you didn't know. I shouldn't have come over attacking." You muttered, causing Jack to smile.

"I'll accept your apology on one condition. Do you think you can find some time in your busy finals schedule to come to one of our games? I can get you more details when the playoffs schedule comes out, but I would it if you could come. I think Luke might be a little jealous that I softened you up first, but it just adds for some more bragging rights on the kid."

You couldn't believe your ears. Your cute, albeit a little clueless neighbor, was not only a professional athlete, but he was also asking you on a date if you weren't mistaken.

"Well Jack, I'd love to, but you just better hope I pass this exam." You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Good thing we're gonna turn the volume down."

2. first game

What do you wear to a hockey game that you were invited to by your neighbor who you have only talked to a few times but you think he may have been awkwardly potentially flirting with you when he invited you?

You were digging through your closet, looking for something appropriate to wear for probably one of the most awkward, unique events you have ever been to. You can't say that you had ever been to a professional hockey game. You weren't clueless to the rules and such, you just never had the opportunity to attend one in person.

Not to mention, you were going alone. You only had a few casual friends at school through this point in the year, and it didn't feel appropriate to bring any of them to this... interesting event you were going to. Plus, you were certain that you would be wrapped up in the game. You were nervous enough as is, and you can't imagine if you had to sit there and make awkward small talk with one of your classmates who might be able to say what your last name is.

Sitting in the uber on the way there made you start to question your choice of agreeing to go to the game. You had no idea how this would go other than you knew that Jack had slipped the ticket under your door earlier this morning and written on it was instructions on how to get to the gate. One thing that caused your cheeks to heat was that on the bottom of the post it note, was his phone number.

This made it feel almost official in a way, having his phone number. Before you could dwell on it too much, your uber pulled up to the door that Jack directed you to. You thanked the driver and walked in to the stadium, immediately overwhelmed by everything. For a second you considered turning around and making something up to Jack that you were sick, but when you took a second to look around, you saw so many happy people with Jack's last name plastered across their backs, number 86 standing proudly. You felt a sense of pride for Jack, though you weren't sure how to feel about that.

That sense of pride never went away once the game started. Your eyes were on Jack from the second his feet touched the ice, and the moment he sat on the bench. Your eyes followed him all the way to the bench, wishing the time he wasn't on the ice would go faster. You wondered why you had never been interested on hockey. Jack was so talented, and the game ended with him scoring a goal and getting two assists. You thought for a second that he was looking up at you when he scored, but you shook your head quickly to rid your brain of those thoughts.

As the game ended, it suddenly occurred to you that you weren't sure how this would end. You sat in your seat for a while letting the seats clear out, preparing to walk towards the gate that you entered in, opening the uber app. As soon as your phone unlocked, a message from Jack popped up on your phone.

"Meet me outside," it read. "I'd like to take you to dinner and drive you home. I'll meet you by the gate you entered in."

Your cheeks flushed at his admission, suddenly looking down at your outfit. Was this appropriate for a dinner date? You were not planning on this at all. You checked what you looked like in the front camera of your phone. Before you could decide whether or not you looked appropriate, you heard a familiar laugh. Your chest warmed at the idea that his laugh could be so familiar, so homey despite the fact that the two of you had not spent much time together.

Jack's feet sped up as he caught up to you, just excited to see you after a great win. His smile was contagious when he saw you standing there, staring at your sneakers in an attempt to not be noticed by the rest of the guys who might ask questions.

In the end, it wasn't Jack who spoke up first. It was Luke. "Y/N! I'm so glad you came! I wanted to score for you, but unfortunately this guy beat me to it," he smiled, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You tried to relax into his arms, telling yourself this was a new normal in your life. Casual banter with your neighbors who just so happen to be professional athletes making millions of dollars.

"Hey back off, I invited them. You dropped the ball. Your turn is up, by the way," Jack muttered, causing Luke to give a quizzical look. Taking advantage of Luke's moment of confusion, Jack sneaks around him and puts his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. A noise of surprise comes out of your mouth. Not discomfort, just surprise at his sudden display of physical affection. "That was awesome!" Jack yelled. "Did you have so much fun?" He asked, pulling away to see your face looking up at him.

"Well it would have been more fun if Luke scored for me but I guess I'll settle for your points," you teased. He smiled, his cheeks turning red at your teasing. "Y/N, is Jack blushing? Did you turn him into a shy mess?" Luke teased and Jack groaned, hiding his face in your shoulder. "I just want to impress you," he smiled which caused your entire body to heat up. It never occurred to you that he wanted to impress you. That you were there because he wanted you to be impressed with his game and how he played.

"Well don't worry, I was thoroughly impressed. Would you like to go to dinner now?" You asked. "Am I invited? Is this like a neighborly get together?" Luke was now teasing you both, causing both of you to get bashful. "Dude, clearly this is a date," Jack mumbled, causing your eyebrows to raise. "Clearly? Is that what we're calling it now. I mean I certainly thought it was, but you never asked me." You and Luke were truly just having fun with the teasing now.

"Jack, it's not very gentlemanly to assume it's a date. You really should ask, especially with someone like Y/N. They're a catch!" Jack was glaring daggers into Luke. "Yes, I should. Y/N, I would like tonight to be a date. Will you go out on a date with me?" Jack asked, grabbing your hand in his. You were grinning, nodding your head. "Well then, Luke I think it's past your bedtime. Why don't you go home with Holtzy and I will take Y/N out for dinner?" Luke shook his head, giggling. "Wouldn't you like that," he laughed. "Luke-" "Fine! Fine! I'm done. I'll go. Y/N, it was a pleasure to laugh with you. You kids enjoy yourself."

"I have a feeling we will."

3. first (real) date

Your dinner with Jack was perfect. You finally got the news back that you had passed the exam you were stressing about, and to celebrate, you got your favorite take out and watched Jack's game on the couch with a glass of wine. It was strange, to whole heartedly notice his absence when him and Luke were away for games. Right now, they were on a short West coast road trip, Denver, Arizona, and Seattle, and then heading back home for a few days off before a home game.

This was their last game being gone, and you found yourself waiting hopefully for Jack to come back. You had been texting a lot on the road trip, Jack even calling you once after he crawled into the empty bed next to Jesper's bed. According to Jack, his friend, teammate, and road roommate Jesper slept like the dead, even going as far as to wearing headphones when he slept, so there was no concern of the call waking him up. That didn't stop you from keeping your voice to a low volume, which Jack of course countered by yelling an obnoxious "What was that?" whenever he couldn't hear you.

After a Devils win, you crawled into bed for the night, finding yourself thinking of Jack, and how you couldn't wait to see him. You were in so deep.

------

As you cleaned up the remnants of your late afternoon lunch, a knock sounded on your door. You had a feeling you knew who it was, but you still checked the peephole to see Jack's face on the other side, nervously rocking back and forth on his feet, holding something in his hand.

Flowers.

"Hi, it's so good to see you!" You smiled, welcoming him inside. "These are for you. I wasn't sure if it was appropriate, but I wanted to ask you something, so I thought these might help. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go to dinner with me on Friday? We have a game on Thursday night, and I thought a more formal, not after a game greasy pizza joint dinner would be fun. That is, if you are interested? If not, it's okay, I was just," you finally cut him off with a hand on his arm. "Jack! I'd love to. The flowers are beautiful. Thank you for thinking of me. I would love nothing more." You smiled, causing an audible sigh to come from Jack's lips.

"Oh thank God! Sorry, I didn't want to ramble, I just really got nervous. I wanted you to say yes but I didn't want to sound weird or make you uncomfortable." He smiled. Neither of you knew what was going on. Jack was stunned that his neighbor who he had barely talked to but admired from afar had turned him into a nervous, blushing mess. You also couldn't say you were expecting to fall for your neighbor. But when he was gone, you came to that conclusion: you were absolutely falling for Jack. You were falling for him, you couldn't understand how it had happened or why, but you absolutely were.

When it came time for your date to come, you felt more nervous than you did for the game. Jack had let you know that you were going to be going to a nicer restaurant. You picked his brain a bit at what to wear. What you didn't know is that he had preplanned his outfit, mannerisms, conversations, basically his every move for the date with his mom and brothers. Well, mostly Quinn. When Luke saw how nervous he was, he was constantly teasing him. Luke loved to tease him about how you should have fallen for him instead of Jack. Of course it was all jokes, as soon as the two of you started hanging out Luke could immediately see the chemistry between the two of you. He knew that your connection was much deeper than any sort of joke he could make. He was really happy for his older brother, finally seeing him fall for a person who made him truly happy.

When you decided on an outfit that was both appropriate for the occasion and made you feel good about yourself, you started pacing by the front door of your apartment, anxiously waiting for Jack to come. It was about 10 minutes before he said he would arrive. On the other side of the wall, Jack thought about coming a few minutes early, but his mom immediately shut that down. Jack argued that he wanted to seem timely and didn't want to keep you waiting. Ellen shut him down, though.

"How long does it take you to walk 10 steps next door? You never want to rush someone getting ready, especially for a first date." Luke was cackling in the background, of course.

At 6:00 on the dot, Jack was knocking on your door. He was almost more nervous than when he came by a few days before asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him, if that was even possible. When you opened the door, Jack planted his feet in the ground, willing himself to not fall over on his ass and make a complete fool of himself.

You were absolutely stunning. You looked so amazing in Jack's eyes. He felt himself blushing as soon as you opened the door. He was thanking his lucky stars, wondering how he had gotten so lucky as to find someone as special as you.

"Y/N..." he finally breathed out, his heart racing. "What? Do I look okay?" You began to feel nervous under his intense gaze, your hands instinctively picking at your fingernails. "Okay would be an insult. You look incredible. These are for you, by the way," Jack handed you the flowers he forgot he even had. "That's so sweet! You didn't have to bring me flowers. The ones you brought me a few days ago are still going strong. They will look beautiful together, though."

You took a minute to put the flowers in a vase. Jack was watching you from afar, you felt his eyes on you, following you around your small kitchen. Truthfully, he was admiring you. He couldn't help but blush at the sight of you, putting flowers in the vase that he bought for you, getting ready for the date that he was taking you out on. He felt like he won the lottery.

When you turned around, you saw him blushingly admiring you, causing your own cheeks to heat up. "What has you so smiley?" you asked, taking a step closer to him, bravely grabbing his hand in yours. You rubbed your thumb over his hand in an attempt to help him feel calm. Jack was certain no one had ever made him feel this nervous. Certainly not someone he was dating. "I just can't believe how beautiful you are. I feel so lucky that you are going out with me."

Both of you were nervous wrecks at this point. Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you were leaning forward, kissing him on the cheek. As soon as Jack felt your lips on his skin, he knew he had to kiss you. "Can I kiss you? Like, on the lips," he muttered, causing you to giggle. "Yes Jack, you can kiss me, like on the lips." He groaned at your teasing, but before he could throw his head back exasperatedly, you leaned forward, capturing his lips with your own.

Jack felt himself melt, holding onto your waist in an attempt to hold himself up straight. It was official. You had softened Jack into a gushy, pillowy mess. And Jack had never been so happy.

+1. as a couple

6 months later

"Jack, honey, if you keep stomping any louder, the people below us are gonna come complain," you muttered teasingly at him. "You really think they can hear you? Besides, if they came and complained, I would simply explain to them that my amazing partner, whom I care for very much, is meeting my family for the first time, and I think they would understand." He quipped back, causing you to laugh.

Jack's parents were coming in to town for the first time in the new season. Before you met Jack, you had long planned to spend the summer abroad with your closest friend. Jack was thrilled for you, but disappointed you wouldn't be able to spend time together over the summer at his summer house. He did however, jet off to meet you in Italy for a week, which was perfect. Ordinarily, you probably would have met Jack's parents already, but with the chaos of your summer, it was now the Devils home opener, and you had yet to meet your boyfriend's parents.

"If I'm so amazing, why are you so nervous for me to meet them?" Jack groaned, causing you to laugh. Teasing each other was something so common, but it was always done lovingly. It was almost a love language of sorts between the two of you.

"Babe, how many times have I talked to Quinn on FaceTime with you? And Luke is the best friend I have here in Jersey, besides you obviously, so it's just your parents. Who, by the way, we have also Facetimed with a handful of times together."

"I know, but in person it's different. They might get knocked on their ass by your good looks and charm, just like I was. And besides, if you think Luke's teasing and sarcasm is bad, just wait until you meet my dad. Where do you think he gets it from?" Jack continues to ramble. To an outsider, it might look like Jack didn't want you to meet his parents, but you both knew it was the complete opposite. The two of you hadn't been together for that long, but in a way that didn't matter. Jack was close to saying the "l word," and you probably weren't that far behind him. He wanted you to meet his parents because he wanted them to love you as much as he did. You felt the same way.

In an attempt to stop his never ending nerves, you took the few steps across the room towards him, putting your hand on his cheek and pulling him in for a soft kiss. "Jack, I am thrilled to meet your parents. If it makes you feel any better, I am a bit nervous too. I want them to like me. Although, I'm sure you've bored them to tears with stories making me seem like I'm the most amazing person on the Earth." "Because you are," Jack intervened, serious as a heart attack.

You laughed at his genuine tone, he was always buttering you up. "They'll love you, because you're amazing. Besides, Lukey and Quinn already love you. This will be easy work for you. The shock of me being in a serious relationship has already worn off. They're thrilled to meet you," you laughed at his half hearted attempt at a joke.

"Besides, I'm sure they will be so excited to meet the person who has turned you into a sap," you laughed, causing Jack's mouth to open in shock. "I am not a sap!" He tried to quip back, but you both knew he was absolutely lying. He was so soft on you, something none of his loved ones had ever seen. "Jack, yesterday you laid your nice jacket over a puddle in the nasty streets of Jersey for me to walk over because there was no way around it," you stared back at him. "That puddle was huge! Your pant legs would've been soaked, I know you would've hated that." You laughed at his kind hearted attempt at an explanation.

"You are one of a kind Jack Hughes," you started. "I truly love you." As soon as the words came out of your mouth, your hand covered it in shock. Of course you loved Jack, but you were so nervous to tell him. You had never said those words to someone romantically before, and you were both certain he would say it first, even though you hadn't talked about it before.

"You love me?" He asked, his voice quivering. "Of course I love you, did you miss the puddle story? I would be crazy not to have fallen in love with you." At this point, both of your eyes were watery, Jack's grip on your shoulders never wavering. "Oh my God, you love me. Oh my God, wait, I love you! I love you so much! I can't believe I haven't said it back yet! I love you!" Jack was over the moon, causing you to laugh wetly.

You had absolutely softened Jack to his core. But you were nothing but soft for him, the two of you a perfect match for each other. When you pulled each other in for a kiss, the love between the two of you was imminent, the nerves of the upcoming event melting away. Jack couldn't wait to introduce you to his parents as his partner whom he loved so much, and you couldn't wait to love them as much as you loved him.

[loveyhoons]

YOU’RE MINE⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ | s.jh

pairing: sim jaeyun x f!reader

genre: tatbilb! inspired, fake relationship!

synopsis: when you and jake get into an argument, you decide to get over your fear of driving by yourself and tell him how much he means to you

featuring: jake & sunoo of enhypen, ej from &team

word count: 3.0k words

warnings: cussing, kissing

author’s note: hi everyone, long time no see 😭👍🏼 i decided to put out a little au for you all since i have not published something in a while! rest assured, i hope to get my other fics out hopefully very soon, but i am currently still in the process of writing them!!

if you watched tatbilb this is loosely inspired by that movie, i recently rewatched it and was like let me write something up

hope you all like this one :)

You stopped at the red light, tapping your fingers back and forth on the steering wheel.

You hated driving when you didn’t need to-more like when you weren’t alone either.

You constantly looked back and forth on your side mirrors, hoping the light would turn green soon. You did not know whether it was the cup of coffee you had this morning or that talk you had with your older sister’s ex-boyfriend EJ yesterday afternoon but it all seemed to snowball to this very moment.

Scratch that, it all was valid reasons why you were feeling this way- more specifically why you were feeling all these things for one person.

Jake Sim.

It all started in October last year when you both agreed to mutually get into a fake relationship.

With your younger sister sending out all your love letters in the mail (that were supposed to be kept a secret), you were in deep trouble.

According to her, she wanted your life to have some spice in it-whatever that meant. Well, what you didn’t know was that when you almost backed up and almost hit Jake on the first day of school, she immediately thought she could give you a little push. And with his name matching up with one of the letters she so happened to see in that little teal box, she knew what had to be done.

You remember running laps in PE, trying to ignore the sunlight and get the period over with. You stopped out of nowhere hearing Jake call your name. You turned around, seeing him walk over towards you, leaving you behind as your classmates ran ahead, getting further and further away.

As soon as you saw a letter in his hand, you felt your heart race. You recognized the pink paper and saw it was accompanied by a brown envelope- one with a forever stamp that had a blue bird on it, the design you ever so remember: it was the one you used for all your love letters at that spur of the moment you had back in freshman year.

Whenever you had a crush so intense to the point you felt like your heart was about to be ripped out of your chest, you wrote love letters. You remembered storing the letters in the teal box your Mom gave to you shortly before she passed.

You thought that keeping it safe inside the box was like a metaphor in a sense. The teal box was like your heart. It saved all these bottled up emotions you knew that you would keep and never reveal even in a million years.

But, it all went wrong once it got into the hands of those 5 guys you wrote to.

EJ your sister’s ex who happened to be your neighbor.

Heeseung Lee from summer camp.

Jake Sim from seventh grade.

Beomgyu Choi, your homecoming date in freshman year.

and Sunghoon Park from Model UN.

You mumbled to yourself, trying to decipher if this was real or reality. You then passed out and felt like you were in a dream.

A very bad dream.

Jake ran towards you, unsure of what to do. You slowly woke up, hearing the worried tone of his voice as soon as you opened your eyes.

You remembered sitting up as Jake bombarded you with questions asking if you needed water or needed to go to the nurse’s office.

And out of nowhere, EJ then appeared walking from where Jake came from, also holding a love letter in his hands. As he came down towards you, you gulped, immediately freaking out.

You kissed Jake out of nowhere as soon as EJ called out your name, immediately earning yourself an extra lap to run after.

Jake was shocked-well the both of you were. You could not believe you did that and was baffled over the whole situation.

What you didn’t know was that this would all be the start of your little contract.

Jake just broke up with his ex girlfriend a month prior to school starting. His ex was also your old best friend from middle school.

It was in the 7th grade when you both had a huge fight that would then lead to you breaking things off.

You all were at a mutual friend’s birthday party. It was a classic game of spin the bottle and the bottle landed on you then on Jake. Your mutual friend dared you to kiss Jake on the cheek.

And little did you know your best friend had a huge crush on him. And that was the end of your friendship. She just left you and you still wondered why it even happened.

With the both of you needing a favor from each other (Jake thought this could be something you would do in return for that kiss), you both agreed to make Jake’s ex jealous and you agreed to keep it up in order for EJ to not talk to you.

You really couldn’t face him at all after what happened, especially with your sister. You were at the last resort of options and decided to make a whole contract with Jake.

Anyways, it only really was supposed to be until the annual ski trip in December before winter break…right?

You would then hold hands in school, have the love letters you ever so wanted written to you, and the recreation of scenes from classic romantic comedies you loved watching with your sisters on those warm summer nights.

Jake would spin you around, give you the biggest back hugs, and wear your scrunchies on his wrist even if you weren’t there physically with him.

“What’s this?” You ask Jake as you hold the folded piece of paper in your hands. You unfolded it, seeing a paragraph on the top half.

He smiled, pointing towards it. “Your daily love letters Y/L/N.”

You read the cheesy paragraph to yourself, smiling. You looked up to him, trying not to giggle. “Who knew you were so good at writing?”

“It’s only for you.” Jake nodded his head. “You ask and you shall receive.”

It felt nice. You hated to admit you liked it. Maybe it was the fact you never had a boyfriend or the way you always so wished to experience what it would feel like to live in your own little romantic comedy.

But at the same time, you felt a wave of sadness knowing it was just all for show.

You knew things would end with Jake eventually and this would all be a nice dream you’d have to wake up to. He would eventually be back with his ex and your relationship would just be another silly thing that would slowly fade from your memory.

You felt like shit too, hiding this all from your older sister knowing you told her everything beforehand. After she left for her study abroad to France, you had no idea how to tell her about Jake or what was going on between you and EJ.

You felt overwhelmed, unsure of what to do.

And then the annual Ski trip came around and when things really started to become a bit different for you both.

You realized you fell for Jake and you wanted this relationship to be real. You wanted him-but this time as your actual boyfriend.

And that’s when you heard he was at the swimming pool. And that’s when you both shared a passionate kiss, as he also admitted to falling for you in the process too.

“Fuck, I’m going to look insane.” You mumbled to yourself, taking in a deep breath. You got into the pool, removing your bath robe. Feeling a bit chilly in your nightgown, you quickly went towards Jake. He gulped a little, flustered. He felt his heart race.

“Why didn’t you sit next to me on the bus?” Jake asked as you floated next to him.

“I figured you’d want some alone time with your ex, that’s all.” You replied a bit reluctant.

“But she’s not my girlfriend Y/L/N.” Jake bit his lip. “You are.”

“Jake-”

“I think we need to end the contract now.”

You raised your eyebrow. You could feel the disappointment and the heavy feeling in your chest. Shit, should you even still confess how you really feel?

Jake then grabs your hands as he sighed. “I don’t want to be in a fake relationship, I want us to have a fresh start with each other, I want to make things real. Rip the contract whatever we had written on there doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Wait Jake.” You felt your voice squeak a little in shock. “You’re not joking?”

“No Y/L/N. I really like you. Who were we kidding, getting ourselves into this situation? I feel like I’m just blabbing on and on but I do hope you feel the same.”

You smiled, feeling your cheeks burn. Nodding your head, you then placed your lips on his as he held you closer to him.

As you pulled away, you whispered in a smile. “Don’t worry, I feel exactly the same.”

He wrapped his arms around you as the two of you embraced in another kiss.

You felt like your life was turning for the better after that. You thought you and Jake could just rip up that contract and call it a day as soon as you both got back from the trip.

But things would only crumble from there.

As soon as you got off the bus the day after, Jake’s ex taunted you.

You thought you had lost that scrunchie- the first one you gave to Jake on that first week upon dating.

But why was it on her wrist?

You remember storming off, not even saying bye to Jake, just out of it, baffled as if whatever happened the evening prior felt like nothing even mattered.

Then your sister came home from France and found out about your little letter to EJ (thanks to him interrupting your family dinner on Christmas Eve).

Jake happened to show up at the same time as EJ did and the two ended up almost in a fight. Jake wanted to explain that nothing happened and to apologize for the scrunchie but then EJ bursted out and spoke about how he felt, confused as to why you were dating Jake.

Little did you know your older sister was behind the front door the entire time, accidentally hearing everything from the love letter to you and Jake being in a fake relationship.

She was speechless to say the least. She was disappointed you held everything in and did not tell her anything, telling you, you should not go through anything alone.

You cried on your pillow that evening, not even able to fully process how things went wrong so quickly. You remember feeling defeated and as if the Christmas spirit just washed away the next day.

And to make matters worse as soon as you got back from break, a mysterious person posted a video of you and Jake’s heated moment at the pool.

And you remember storming off on Jake, calling it quits.

It hit you that you may have lost the best person that ever happened to you.

And you didn’t know how to accept losing another important person in your life.

After you and your older sister worked things out, she was successfully able to get that video off Instagram (thankfully the help center was ever so helpful).

You made amends-somewhat- with Jake’s ex who admitted to posting the video on a burner account. She admitted the whole spin the bottle situation was why you both stopped becoming friends and left you in pure shock.

Even though you did not understand why she could not just tell you in the first place long ago, you accepted it already happened.

You could not just go back in time and undo things, you needed to face what was in front of you.

You eventually worked things out with EJ. You explained everything and apologized for the way you acted.

“Who cares if it was fake?” EJ snickered as he shook his head. He shifted his position a bit on the stair you both sat on. He tried not to laugh, glancing at you. “I could tell it wasn’t fake for you. You had that type of look in your eyes. It reminded me how your sister looked at me when we were together.”

“EJ, you’re funny but I really don’t know anymore.” You replied, hugging your knees.

“If Jake fucks this up, I hope he knows I won’t let him off easily.” EJ snapped. “This is not only for you but also for your sister. I rest my case.”

Your front door then swiftly opened to your younger sister who sat in the middle of you both. She had the teal box in her hands and took off the lid, showing the contents inside.

Instead of those love letters you wrote in the past, it was filled with the love letters that Jake wrote you. All of those letters were stored inside, each folded like how he gave it to you.

“I may have eavesdropped-I didn’t mean to okay.” Your younger sister awkwardly said. She then took one of the letters and held it up. “But I hope this gives you more of a reason to get back with Jake-not that I need a ride to school or anything. Also please, I hate to see you crying over the smallest things. I need him back in our lives. I don’t know if I can stand hearing your bitter thoughts in every romcom we watch now any longer.”

You looked at your sister in utter shock.

“The kid has spoken.” EJ smiled as he stood up. He then cooed, looking towards you. “It’s up to you now whether or not you want to put it in action.”

Now here you are on a Sunday afternoon, driving to the school campus to find Jake.

You texted his friend Sunoo in the morning who also was on the soccer team with him.

It turned out the team had practice on the weekends as the soccer season was starting once again. Sunoo texted you right after practice ended and said that Jake should still be there as practice ended a bit later than expected.

So you grabbed your keys as soon as Sunoo texted back, immediately driving out of your driveway and onto the road.

Jake was left behind according to Sunoo as it was his turn to put the soccer balls back into the large shed by the PE locker rooms.

This was the first time you drove by yourself.

That fear of yours didn’t seem to matter at all in the moment.

You just needed to make sure you would make it before Jake would leave. You could not keep your feelings to yourself anymore.

You pulled into the right school parking lot and parked your car in one of the empty spots. You got out quickly and pressed the lock button on your car keys, immediately running towards the field.

As you walked into the campus and straight to the field, you panted for a little. You stopped at the field entrance, scanning the area for Jake.

You then spotted him, putting the soccer balls into the large bags towards the sides by the left bleachers. You ran again and called out his name, going straight towards him.

Jake turned towards your direction and turned his head slightly, making sure he wasn’t hearing things.

You then stopped in front of him and sighed. “Holy shit, I feel like I’m in PE.”

“Did you drive here…alone?” Jake asked in shock as you nodded your head. He put down the bag of soccer balls, kicking it towards the side.

“Yes. I drove here alone.” You said a bit out of breath as you walked closer to him. “That’s not important right now.”

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I’ll just- you know what, I’ll just say whatever I am feeling right now.” You looked at him and started to speak, feeling your voice break a little. “Jake I’m so sorry for not texting you the past few weeks and for ignoring you. I just needed time to think things out.” You sighed. “I am so sorry I didn’t work things out and just left you in the dark. I realized through all of this that I want you. I want us. I want to fight for you like you did for me this entire time. I want to experience the good and bad times with you. I just want you here,

I want you with me.”

Jake’s eyes widened as his lips pursed into a smile. “I’m sorry too. I swear we didn’t do anything with each other and I feel stupid for not getting back your scrunchie and just letting her do whatever she wanted to do. I just- after you going no contact with me I didn’t know what to do then with the video being posted. Fuck, I didn’t mean for that to happen either.”

What’s done is done. I am leaving that in the past.” You replied. “I just wanted to get it out of my chest whatever I’m feeling because truthfully I like you a lot Jake. I understand if you don’t want to get back together- I just want you to know so I can get closure- we can get closure, heck I think I just got over my fear of driving alone.”

“Woah slow down you’re getting ahead of yourself!” Jake chuckled, trying to calm you down.“Sunoo sorta told me you texted him this morning…I was kind of expecting you.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “He wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

Jake cupped your cheeks in his hands and sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

You intently looked up at him as he clicked his tongue. “There is no way I am letting you go L/Y/N. We will make this work I am sure of it. You think I would really let you go after what happened in the seventh grade?”

“Not you mentioning it again, I can’t believe you still remember that…” You shook your head in embarrassment.

“I’m just telling the truth.” Jake said defensively as you smiled. He then took a deep breath and asked,”Now, the real question is… can I be your boyfriend-like your real one?”

You smiled, nodding your head. “Didn’t need to ask, I'm all yours.”

Jake pulled you in for a kiss as you moved in, standing closer towards him. And you stayed like that for a little while, relieved that you found your way back to him.

© loveyhoons , 2024

landing page | masterlist

[eveninggstar]

he's a car mechanic ⊹ ࣪ ˖

max verstappen x female!reader

08.08.24

୨ৎ back one page ୨ৎ back two pages

୨ৎ With your lack of knowledge for the word of Formula One, you don't realise your "cat stealing" "car fixing" neighbour is arguably one of the best drivers on the grid at the moment.

(please dont crucify me if you see this and you think max is shit im not ready to be hung drawn and quartered)

The high-rise apartment you had moved into a few months ago was everything you had dreamed of. Spacious, modern, and with a balcony that offered a panoramic view of the city, it was perfect for you and your Siamese cat, Asparagus. Asparagus was a curious and playful companion, always finding new ways to amuse himself.

You quickly settled into your new routine, working from home during the day and spending your evenings relaxing on the balcony with Asparagus. Over time, you noticed that Asparagus had developed a fascination with your neighbour's balcony. The two balconies were close enough that Asparagus could easily hop over the railing and explore the neighbour's space. He particularly seemed to enjoy playing with two Bengal cats, Jimmy and Sassy, who lived next door.

Your neighbour was often away, traveling for his job, so you hadn't had a chance to meet him yet. You only knew his name from the mail slot next to yours. You knew nothing about him other than his name is Max and he's gone a lot.

One sunny afternoon, Asparagus had once again made his way onto Max's balcony. This time, however, Max was home. He was standing on the balcony, looking down at Asparagus with a bemused expression.

"Hey there, little guy," Max said, bending down to let Asparagus sniff his hand. Asparagus, being the friendly cat he was, immediately rubbed against Max's leg, purring loudly.

Max chuckled and opened the sliding door, allowing Asparagus to wander inside his apartment. Over the next few hours, Max found himself charmed by Asparagus's playful antics. He fed the cat, played with him, and even set up a little spot for Asparagus to nap. When evening came, you began to worry. Asparagus hadn't come back yet, and you had no idea where he was.

You spent the next morning designing missing posters, ready to plaster them around the building. But as you were preparing to print them out, you glanced out onto your balcony and saw Asparagus lounging on Max's gym equipment.

"Really, Asparagus?" you muttered to yourself, quickly making your way to Max's apartment. You knocked on his door, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance.

Max opened the door, looking surprised. "Hi, can I help you?" he asked, his eyes widening slightly when he saw the worried look on your face.

"Yes, my cat Asparagus is on your balcony," you said, pointing towards your apartment. "I was really worried about him."

Max's expression shifted to one of defensiveness. "Oh, this cat?" he said, gesturing to Asparagus, who had followed you to Max's door. "I thought he was a stray that wandered in. He's been here for a day or so."

You sighed, feeling both relieved and frustrated. "No, he's my cat. I live right next door. He must have hopped over the railing."

Max looked genuinely surprised. "Sorry, I don't believe you. Do you mind?" He then closed the front door on you. The nerve!

Deciding to escalate the matter, you went to the building manager, who was a friend of your uncle. The manager knew you and Asparagus well, and he assured Max that the cat indeed belonged to you.

Max returned Asparagus with an apologetic look on his face. "I'm really sorry about that. I had no idea. I just got back from a long trip and found him here."

You shrugged off his apology. "Asparagus is a girl." You the returned the favour of shutting the door in his face.

A few weeks passed, and you continued to adjust to your new life. You still hadn't had much interaction with Max, apart from a few polite nods in the hallway. Life was busy, and you were preoccupied with work and taking care of Asparagus.

One morning, as you were trying to head out for some errands, your car refused to start. Frustrated, you tried everything you could think of, but the engine wouldn't turn over.

Max happened to be in the garage, and he noticed you struggling. He walked over with a concerned look on his face. "Having some trouble?" he asked.

You shot him a glance, your frustration evident. "if you're hear to take the piss I will gladly hijack someone's car and run you over with it."

Max halted his words as he came up next to you. He was just staring at you, taking in the features of his pretty neighbour with the adorable cat. He didn't hear your questions as you began to get more and more irritated, or even the clicking and clapping in his face. Eventually Max broke out of his beauty filled trance and stumbled for an answer. "I can take a look at it for you, if you want."

You were sceptical. "What?"

Max nodded, trying to appear confident. "Yeah, I’m a car mechanic. I can fix it up for you, free of charge."

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really?"

Max felt a pang of anxiety, knowing he had just lied. But he wanted to make things right. "Consider it an apology for the whole cat thing." He paused looking down at his hands that had began to become both equally interesting and sweaty. "I am still sorry about that, i just really like cats! I mean Siamese cats-"

"Okay! You can fix my car." You interrupted him, dropping the useless keys into his clammy palm. Only then Max realised what he had done.

Later that day, Max called a friend who was an actual mechanic and arranged for him to come pick up the car, and then fix it, whilst he took credit for it.

The car incident became a turning point in your relationship with Max. Over the next few weeks, the two of you spent more time together. Max often found excuses to visit, sometimes bringing treats for Asparagus, other times simply to chat. You started to see a different side of him—one that was caring, considerate.

One evening, Max invited you over to his apartment for dinner. This wasn't unusual as the two of you hand never been out together-as a thing. Something you both agreed about was that staying in with the cats is much better. The atmosphere was relaxed, with soft music playing in the background and the smell of delicious food filling the air. Max had prepared a three-course meal, and as you ate, you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn't expected.

"Growing up, I always felt like I was living in someone else's shadow," you confided, tracing the rim of your wine glass with your finger. "My older sister was the golden child, and I was just... there."

Max listened intently, his blue eyes focused on you. "I get that. Luckily for me I was the older child. My dad would teach me to kart." He paused to think of his next words. "Sometimes the conditions were a little unorthodox, but I did enjoy it. The reason I'm so into cars." He thought back to his words, hoping it dint slip of his true profession.

You looked at him, surprised. "I'm sorry," You reached over to rub his arm on the table whilst offering a sympathetic smile.

He smiled wryly. "It's all an act, really. Inside, I'm just a guy who loves speed and cats."

You both laughed, and the conversation flowed naturally, moving from childhood memories to dreams and aspirations. By the end of the night, you felt a deeper connection with Max, one built on mutual understanding and shared secrets.

As your relationship with Max grew closer, the romantic tension between you became palpable. There were lingering glances, accidental touches, and moments when it felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you.

One night, after a particularly gruelling day at work, you found yourself at Max's door. He opened it, concern immediately crossing his face. "Hey, you okay?"

You shook your head, tears brimming in your eyes. "I just... I need someone to talk to."

Max pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly as you let the tears flow. "I'm here," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

You spent the evening on his couch, talking about everything that had been weighing on you. Max listened, offering comfort and reassurance. At some point, you fell asleep, your head resting on his shoulder. When you woke up, a blanket was draped over you, and Max was still by your side, watching whatever movie that was playing on mute with subtitles.

Your sanctuary of calmness didn't last long. A flood of messages came through from your friend. Multiple screenshots of instagram posts, or twitter posts, with the occasional article highlighting your cat and car loving neighbour and yourself at the slight hint of a relationship. You scrolled through as much as you could, and found a few underlying facts.

Your face was pasted pretty much everywhere you looked online

Your cute, cat loving, car mechanic was actually an f1 driver.

And that you were lied to heavily.

You went silent on Max for a few days, avoiding his calls and texts- sometimes even the knocks to your door. When you finally looked at his messages, the most recent one stating that he had finished your car and was brining your keys back to you. His rhythmic knock sounded at the door. You cursed god that there wasn't a mail slot on your door for your keys to be dropped in as you strolled to the door.

"Hey, I haven't heard from you in a few days. Is everything okay?" he asked, smiling nervously.

You opened the door, feeling a surge of anger. "You lied to me, Max. First, you steal my cat, then you lie about being a mechanic. You're a freaking celebrity, and you never said anything!"

Max was taken aback, his smile fading. "I... I didn't mean to lie. I just didn't want to complicate things." He paused looking at you taking in the details he missed over the past few days. "Also I didn't technically steal your cat, Asparagus-"

"Did you even fix my car, Max?" You put your hands on your hips, looking at him with furrowed brows.

Max stood there awkwardly, muttering a quiet "No" before breaking into a rush of apologies. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to lie to you. I just wanted to help. It felt nice with you, being known as Max and not Max Verstappen the driver!"

You looked at him, feeling a mix of hurt and betrayal. Without another word, you grabbed your car keys and shut the door, not realizing that Asparagus had slipped out and followed Max.

Max sighed, picking up Asparagus and knocking on your door again. "Please, just hear me out."

"Go away!" you yelled through the door.

"But-"

"Max, leave me alone!"

Max stood there for a moment, feeling desperate. He needed a way to apologize and give Asparagus back. Suddenly, an idea came to him. He went back to his apartment, grabbing a notepad and pen.

The next day, you found a letter and a small box outside your door. The letter read:

Dear Y/N,

I’m incredibly sorry for everything. I never meant to deceive you. Please accept this as an apology.

Inside the box, you'll find the necklace I was going to give you when I eventually gained the courage to ask you out and tell you the truth.

I know I cant buy your way into forgetting, but I just want you to take it.

I hope we can start over.

- Max

p.s I do have asparagus, after you shut the door she came out and won't go back to your balcony

Inside the box was a beautiful necklace with a pearl in the centre, with a small note that read:

"I might not be a mechanic, but I want to be honest with you from now on. I hope you can forgive me."

Feeling a mix of emotions, you decided to go over to the apartment opposite yours. You knocked on his door, and it was opened straight away. You saw the tentative look he had.

"Can we talk?" you asked, bending down to hold Asparagus.

Max nodded, stepping aside to let you in. "I'd like that."

As you sat down together, you felt a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something real.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

Tag list: (comment if you want to be added)

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[steveshairychest]

After defeating vecna for a second time, Steve decides he's had enough of Hawkins and all things supernatural.

After hunting around for a few weeks, he scores himself a quaint little apartment big enough for him and for Robin when she eventually moves in after college. He doesn't sell his parents' house or demolish it like Robin suggests. No, he leaves it to sit and rot. He hopes his parents will come home one day and find it overgrown and falling to pieces, hopes they'll trudge up the steps to find the note that he had nailed to the front door that says, 'Welcome home :)'. Robin insisted on adding the passive-aggressive smiley face.

They move away from Hawkins and don't think about it for years. Sure, Steve still calls their friends who decided to stay there, and he often finds himself missing their company, but he doesn't miss the place itself. Only the people. He's made it very clear to them that he doesn't intend to step a single foot back into Hawkins until he dies. Everyone knows this, especially Robin, who's been informed on multiple drunken occasions that Steve wants to be buried on top of the hill next to Eddie so that he at least knows someone else in the graveyard.

But then he gets a letter in the mail, a simple letter in a white envelope and it haunts him for days.

The letter is from Wayne. His handwriting is rough and messy but familiar; they've been sending each other letters for a few years now. The cigarette ash smudged in some corners makes him smile. Most of the letter is just niceties; asking Steve how he is, what he's been up to, if he's found himself someone. Stuff he's used to. But then the words, 'I can't be alone for it Steve, I can't do it. I need you here. It's been 5 years, and the day still hasn't gotten any easier. I'd like it if you came to visit.' They punch Steve in the gut and leave him aching for days.

It takes him an entire week to call the number on the back of the envelope and confirm with Wayne that he'll be there. Just this once he'll go back to that retched place. For Wayne.

For Eddie.

The drive passes by in a blur, one second he's on the highway, the next he's passing by the Welcome to Hawkins sign and driving along the streets he thought he'd never see again. Wayne told him over the phone that morning to meet him at the cemetery, said that he wanted to get the hard part over and done with so that they could spend the rest of the day catching up and listening to Eddie's tapes. He'd be lying if he said he didn't cry for a solid 10 minutes in the car park, the memories that he had tried so hard to forget rushing back the second he lays eyes on Eddie's grave at the top of the hill.

He still remembers the hollow ache in his chest the day he helped Wayne pick out a spot. He had gone home that afternoon and begged Robin to make it stop, to hold him and tell him that the pain would go away. She had told him what he wanted, she had held him on the kitchen floor and promised he would never have to feel like that again.

She'd lied. That same ache spreads throughout his body as he trudges up the hill to stand before the shabby grave and the tears he thought he had left back in the car come bubbling back up as he stares down at the graffitied headstone. He hasn't seen it since the day he left. He forgot how overwhelming it is to see Eddie's name carved on the headstone.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited." He says through sobs, his vision blurred by tears as he plops down on the soft grass in front of the headstone. "I miss you." The words almost choke him.

There's the sound of footsteps behind him, boots crunching against the leaves and twigs. Wayne must have finally shown up. Steve doesn't turn around, he doesn't want Wayne to see his tears. He's supposed to be here as support. He's supposed to be the one coming up behind Wayne to offer his condolences. He stops beside Steve and sighs softly.

"Hi." Steve says weakly and finally looks up at Wayne - except... it's not Wayne.

"Hi, Steve."

It's Eddie.

[demonslayerunhinged]

Unhinged yap/headcanon

What happened after?

In the context of SaneGiyuu, Sanemi's inferiority complex is really sad because as he's feelings for Giyuu develop and get stronger, there'll probably be that voice at the back of his head that says Giyuu wouldn't want to date someone like him.

Giyuu calling him beautiful must have hit him like a bus. He's used to people being afraid of him, calling him ugly or scary, so to have someone not only think he's worthy of attention but to call him beautiful???

Well....

Giyuu on the other hand struggles with his own esteem as well. He has to deal with depression over losing his sister and Sabito, his first love then, his imposter syndrome thinking that he's not worthy of being the water Hashira.

In his mind, he thinks that the second strongest Hashira wouldn't really think much of a guy like him. Sanemi is cool and badass, he says what's on his mind and isn't afraid of nobody, and Giyuu wishes he could be like that.

...

Giyuu wasn't sure what to think of the wind Hashira at first. They were tasked on a mission together along with a small group of junior slayers. Even though Sanemi had piqued his interest at his introductory meeting in the Master's mansion, right now he was much more focused on just getting the job done and going home.

The demons turned out to be a lot more than they initially thought and Giyuu was unsure that he would be able to fight and keep the junior slayers safe, but as he's cutting them down, he sees Sanemi rushing towards the hoard with a wide smile on his face.

"Come on! I'll take all of you bastards!"

Wind breathing, fourth form: Rising Dust Storm

This leaves the demons in shreds, drenching Sanemi in a shower of blood and guts.

Giyuu dealt with the rest of the hoard, and after he decapitated the last demon, Sanemi came up to him, his katana resting lazily on his shoulder. He had his usual grumpy look, but he said

"You're strong, that's good"

He then turned abruptly and went to check up on the civilians.

Giyuu stared after him for a minute before going to check in on the junior slayers and the civilians. Throughout the time, Sanemi's words were still ringing in his head.

You're strong, that's good

You're strong

They didn't go on any more missions after that, as their status as Hashira meant their had to head separate teams of juniors on missions. Giyuu tried to forget about Sanemi and his words since that day, but he couldn't.

Not seeing each other was good because it meant Giyuu was able to put away his feelings, he didn't know what to make of them. Why had the words stuck to him? What had his feelings meant?

At the next Hashira meeting, he watched as Sanemi sidled beside Rengoku with Obanai on his right, for a brief moment they locked eyes, and then Giyuu knew. He knew, he knew, he knew, he knew.

...

(This is the night after Giyuu called Sanemi beautiful. Muzan's visit to the Ubuyashiki mansion was delayed because his dry-cleaning got lost in the mail, idk)

Giyuu sat on the edge of the well, lost in thought, when he felt a slight rush of wind. He didn't have to look to know who it was on the other side of the well.

There was a brief moment of silence between them, Giyuu was the first to speak, he made an attempt to apologize

"Shinazugawa...I-"

"Did you mean what you said?" Sanemi's voice was gruff, but his words were a soft whisper.

His first instinct was to lie, but honestly he was exhausted. What did he have to lose?

"Yes"

There was silence again. This one stretched for so long, Giyuu for a silly moment thought that Sanemi had fallen asleep.

Then he heard the crunch of gravel as Sanemi stood up straight.

"The final set of trainees left for Gyomei's mansion this afternoon" he whispered

Giyuu eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he turned to the other side of the well. Sanemi's back was to him, Giyuu wanted to ask why he told him this but was cut off as Sanemi continued.

"The next set would be coming in tomorrow morning"

Then he was gone, leaving Giyuu in a state of confusion. What had Sanemi meant by that? What was he trying to say? He pondered for a moment, then a soft, sharp gasp left his lips as his eyes widened in realization.

Giyuu knew. He knew, he knew, he knew, he knew.

[yourstrqly]

★ . . . 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘!, 𝐍𝐃𝐕𝟐𝟏

pairing: nyck de vries x schumacher!reader

the second schumacher kid is trolling the paps with her new, still (seemingly) unknown bf

liked by ginaschumacher, sebastianvettel, yourbff and 50

y/nschumacherpriv break from uni never felt better !!

mickschumacher das letzte Bild? Ernsthaft? 🤢 the last picture? you fr y/n?

y/nschumacherpriv sehe kein Problem damit Zwerg ;) don't see a problem with it dwarf

nyckdevries 🖤

liked by y/nschumacherpriv mickschumacher love you too bro y/nschumacherpriv mick u annoying piece if shit, i'm not sharing nycky w u 🗡 mickschumacher he was mine first hoe nyckdevries girls there's enough of me for both of you lilymhe is there really little man? 🧐 nyckdevries oi alex stop using lily's acc for shitting on other people lilymhe NEVER y/nschumacherpriv #cancelalexalbon2023

daily mail — y/n schumacher and boyfriend passionately kissing in the streets of london once again!

at the beginning of july 2023 the middle child of formula one driver michael schumacher and his wife corinna started to tease the public by hanging out with a brunette man, who's yet to identify even through they're openly affectionate.

mick schumacher has shared in an interview with sky that the family already met the boyfriend and couldn't be more happy as he knew him before his sister dated him and trusted him — the youngest schumacher cheekily added that he hoped for the boyfriend to survive his messy loudmouthed sister.

this presented us with an idea: what if y/n is dating another driver? it could be possible as mick mentioned to knowing him first and being close friends.

as long as y/n and her mysterious man won't share their relationship with the public, we have to sit back and wait in anticipation — maybe they'll slip up in the future when trolling the paparazzi.

caption of the story: nyck came back and is still alive 🙏🏻

y/nschumacherpriv ey ich fahre sehr gut sebby :( ey I'm driving very well sebby sebastianvettel klar y/n . . sure y/n y/nschumacherpriv :((

monaco gossip ; EXCLUSIVE — y/n schumacher and boyfriend nyck de vries put on a loved up display as they're on romantic holiday in monaco

y/n schumacher, second daughter of sports couple corinna and michael schumacher, and her boyfriend nyck de vries put on a loved up display as they're on a romantic holiday in monaco, where de vries has lived when he was an active formula one driver.

the 25 years old student went all out with a chill afternoon date, followed by enjoying the sunny weather outside in the streets of monaco, gently kissing each other and holding hands.

schumacher's younger brother mick had shared that he knew his sisters boyfriend before the now cozy looking couple met — which makes sense as mick and nyck both drove for the prema team in formula two years ago. we come to the conclusion, mick had introduced his teammate to his sister and from there romance blossomed.

de vries, gotten dropped by alpha tauri for daniel riccardo, had announced last month to begin studying at the harvard university where his girlfriend also studies by the way!

y/n schumacher and nyck de vries were something we didn't expect but we surely wish them the best.

liked by pierregasly, ginaschmacher, arthur_leclerc and others

nyckdevries snoepje is a bit sad about the fact that the cat and mouse game has finished and our biggest fan dailmail wasnt the one to uncover us. to quote her at our dinner with the friends: they're a bunch of losers. love you snoepje little candy

oscarpiastri dinner was great, y/n should do a cooking class

y/nschumacherpriv thank you my aussie friend, i'd totally do it (you would be my first student) oscarpiastri i dont need cooking classes y/nschumacherpriv they video of rob and you cooking eggs tells me a different story . . . oscarpiastri :(

y/nschumacherpriv i love you hotstuff

nyckdevries 🖤

y/nschumacherpriv you're so hot 🥵

nyckdevries you're hot too aaaaand we could do some hot stuff ;) y/nschumacherpriv gimme ten mins hotstuff charloslestappen NOT THEM BEING HONRY ON MAIN load more comments

midnighcts my eyes ARE blessed. they're HOT, and STUNNING, simply AMAZING, SHOWSTOPPING

alblondos can't decide if i want to be with her, him or both

mickschumacher still can't believe you chose her over me nyck, I thought what we had was enough 😩

y/nschumacherpriv mick, shut up, I won't share him with you, get that in your small brain nyckdevries i'm sorry bro :( mickschumacher its fine, i'm slowly getting over it y/nschumacherpriv wdym with "i'm sorry"?! there's nothing to be sorry abt 😑 nyckdevries . . . y/nschumacherpriv we're done hendrick mickschumacher i have space for you nycky 🥰 ginaschumacher idiots. all of you are idiots

hamiltonslegend the schumacher siblings >>>>>

rina's masterlist ; i really enjoyed writing this and I miss the little man (who's a cm bigger than me but idc he's a smol bean !!)

[jolalibrary]

iii - just say that you need me

javier peña x f!reader | chapter three of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. an: the amount of people who look forward to tuesday's makes me grin. for those who are new, i don't have a tag list. wordcount: 2.6k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

You should say yes more. 

to you or to my pop 

To your pop. I know you wouldn’t say no to me. 

you sure about that 

I’d bet my next paycheck on it. 

for you I’ll say yes to him once

Good. Now we have that out the way answer what the worst date you’ve ever been on was

shit. going with the hard hitting questions today

Just getting you to share, open up

probably when I first came back from colombia someone from my town where I live

They a bad host, bad dinner guest? Gimme more Javi cmon. You said you’d entertain me.

baby, im trying to entertain you but you told me to stop

I said stop flirting while I’m eating and answer the question

she wouldn’t stop asking me for details on escobar

Ah. Yeah I can see how discussing that would be a mood killer.

yeah didn’t wanna go in the first place either

So if we ever meet, do not ask about your Colombian experience. Got it. 

you can ask, doesn’t mean I’d tell you 

Ha! Good to know. I wouldn’t though. If you wanna tell me, I think you will. 

thanks, what’s yours?

Well I was stood up when we first began texting. Think that’s pretty bad, enough.  

he’s an idiot because only an idiot would stand you up 

You haven’t seen me, remember 

statement still stands 

Stop being so charming.

you still eating

No.

then I can flirt

Most of the time, he ignores the mail. 

Lets it pile up on the entryway dresser until his pop makes another reference to it. Unlike his pop, he is never in a rush to open them, knowing no good comes from the contents inside.

The same people contact him. The bureau being one. Sipping his coffee as he glares at the usual federal sign on the envelope, wondering how many more times they’ll try asking him to come in for a chat.

This afternoon, though, the envelope isn’t brilliant white, but rather off-cream. 

Peeling a bit, thumb digging in as he drags it across, the ripping sound filling the small space. It’s only as he opens it does he realise who it’s from. 

His eyes stare at the letter, taking in the number—the one in triple digits with his phone provider logo in the top corner. The number which is making him feel sick, the more he stares at it over and over again. 

“Fuck.” 

Folding it, he swallows. 

Shit.

Motherfucker.

He stuffs it away, tucks it under magazines and other leaflets, as though by keeping it out of sight, it’ll go away.

But it's there.

The edge of it sticking out. He even blinks, and the number is there, tattooed on the back of his eyes. Taunting him—the price of speaking to you. 

It's not that Javi can't afford it. He’s had a chunk of money sitting, gaining dust, in his account since he came home. Only able to force portions on his pop as and when he felt he could get away with it. 

But this was a lot. More than he’d bargained on, more than he even knew he could spend simply by replying to someone. 

There's a chance your day won't be done just yet—his day beginning far earlier than yours even began—but he pulls his phone out, fingers pressing into the keys.

so apparently talking to you is costly  Oh, you've had your bill. I feel I should ask whether I'm worth it? 

It’s instant—the way you make the nauseous feeling vanish. How you force it to slide back to where it came from, and in its place, warmth spreads. All accompanied by a smile on his lips. 

He doesn’t want to show his hand too much. Better at concealing, playing the long game when standing face to face.

This requires a skill he hasn't yet gained. Simply focusing on not sounding ridiculous, or over the top. Unnecessary. Like some of the desperate men, he's happened to arrest over the years.

Even if his chest flutters and his mind screams, of course. Wants to ask, isn't it obvious? But he chooses something easier, uncomplicated.  

yes just didn’t expect it  I had my phone bill the other day. I get it.  did your heart fall out your ass No. But I will be eating ramen for the next month.  We can stop texting so much though, if it’s costing too much.  would rather my bill be double than stop talking to you  You’re such a flirt. 

He drains the rest of his mug, leaning back in the chair—hearing the sound of approaching boots from his Pop’s side of the house. Fingers typing, all hurried and determined 

Don’t forget I’m out for drinks and a movie.  I remember don’t worry 

He remembers as soon as you remind him.

Realising it's the reason you're able to reply right now. You’d been telling him almost every night for the past week. All worried, as though hating the idea of breaking the nightly tradition the two of you have concocted. 

In a way, Javi should have assumed the bill would be high with the number of texts the two of you have been sending. How frequent it’s been—how nice it’s been. 

Nice things do usually come with a tag. 

you decided on sweet or salty  Verdict is still out. You sure about waiting to do the crossword?  if we don’t do it tonight, we’ll do two the next day  You sure? more than sure have a great time 

“Y’sure you don’t fancy coming with me, Jav?”

He thinks of it, tapping his phone against his palm as he thinks of your text the other night. The one about him trying to say yes—something curling in his chest as he realises he’ll be alone, alone if he doesn’t. 

A sentiment he didn’t mind on paper, but now confronted with, rather despised. 

 “Alright, yeah. Can—can I get changed?” 

Mid-grabbing his own jacket, his Pop turns, surprise knitted into his wiry brows. “Y-yeah, sure, I’ll….”

“I’ll meet you at the truck?” 

And he does. All without complaint. Plaid shirt on, a smile being forced as soon as the truck pulls off the drive. He doesn't even complain about the radio choice or the fact his Pop always takes the main roads when he could cut down the dusty roads. 

When he arrives, he doesn’t mind how many hands he shakes, one after the next. He tries not to grit his teeth as each person says the usual things, they’re proud, he’s grown, when is he settling down? Each time he laughs it off. Spanish rolling from his tongue as he smiles and winks. 

It’s performative. 

The old version of him coming out from a hidden place. 

Always there, ready, as his hand shakes another person's hand—one he’s already forgotten the name of. Someone he’s sure he’s met before, too. 

It always happens. The small-town boy who took down drug cartels has become somewhat of a celebrity tale. A thing to gawk at when he visits the store. Chucho's boy who ran away to Colombia and now hides away on the ranch.

For the amount of time it's been, he'd foolishly expected it to die down—but it hasn't. Not enough, anyway. 

After enough time, he excuses himself, sneaking down the corridor near the bathroom. Leaning against the wall, fingers trying to rub out a knot that hasn’t yet appeared in his skull. The one pulsing, threatening to build behind his eye.

He’s unsure what he wants to do, what he needs. Retrieving his phone, just clicking around, before finding himself on your texts—feeling better for it.

Reading them back, smirking at some, smiling wide at others. A shape forming in his head, little details he’d amassed to make up you. A person he was pretty sure meant more to him than evening company, but it seemed tricky to delve too far into it. 

That is until his phone vibrated. 

Just wanted to tell you I miss you. Even if that’s weird. 

His fingers hover over the keys, a retort quick—there in his touch.

Slowly he presses it out, hearing the click even over the bar’s music as he double and triple taps each button he wants, until it forms what it is he thought:

not weird, you drunk I’m tipsy, not drunk. Still mean it. good cause i miss you too

you never said how the movie was

As someone who flies a lot, I shouldn’t have watched it.

that bad

Will probably have to hold the hand of my seat mate the next time work makes me fly. 

I’m sure they won’t mind 

Depends on the length of my nails I guess. 

some people don’t mind nails clawing in certain situations

You trying to tell me you like nails down your back, Javi? 

if the situation is right, yes 

What about in your hair?

now who’s being a tease 

I’m learning so much tonight. 

and your putting images in my head 

I’d love to know what I look like in it, since you haven’t seen me.

beautiful, you look beautiful 

My face is burning. 

your day been ok

Yeah, was fine. Work has been rough. 

you want to talk about it

Not really, it’s stupid anyway. Plus, would rather do the crosswords and hang with you.

you do have two to make up to me

Best get giving me the clues then, Javi. 

four letters, begins with f 

Is this a Javi crossword or a real crossword 

baby, cmon 

Fuck?

fork 

someone’s in a dirty mood

You’re such a dick. Give me a real clue. 

There's not a point in time where he can track how his thoughts went from nothing to you. But, he thinks about you all the time.

Has been doing so constantly for the last two days, at least—the occasional vibrations from his phone making his lips twitch and his mind wander. Javi’s brain exploding with wonder at what your reply could say. 

Sometimes, he tries not to check immediately. Test—see—how long he can go before he does. It’s not been going well.

An excitement dashing through his veins that fills his chest, warms his neck and makes a ridiculous grin appear (one he’s caught accidentally in the mirror).

The back and forth has been quicker—for as costly as it was—outside of routines and work. His fingers have even improved in the speed of tapping the same key to get one single letter.

Each text makes him feel like he learns a new nugget about you, gathering a new piece of the puzzle—an idea of you forming in front of his eyes. One he likes—craves more of—wishing for other tidbits similar to how you like coffee after breakfast, not before. 

That you don’t care for birthday cake, but love cookies. 

morning hermosa hope you managed to grab the coffee

He doesn’t expect to hear from you.

Remembering that your time management in the morning isn’t to be admired. You are someone who is either awake too early or too late—never in the middle.

But, when he finishes. Sweat clinging to every muscle, he’s surprised to find nothing.

Even a little disappointed.

finished up for the day, unsure whether to lounge around on the porch or push the boat out and lounge in the barn

You’ve become such a part of his day, his shoulders sink when he steps out of the shower to see nothing.

His heart slips down inside his chest, resting unsteadily on his ribs as he checks and checks. His fingers fluff his hair as he runs his fingers through it before finding a strand, twisting, and twisting.

I’m probably worrying about nothing but just let me know you’re ok

A part of him had worried this would happen.

That he would allow the attachment to grow—ropes and threads wrapping around him—and it would be taken from under his feet.

He has a history of becoming hooked—usually combining itself with his need to help, to make someone’s day better, easier.

And on paper, he knew it was odd. To care for someone he hadn’t ever even met. But he cares all the same.

Copious amounts, in fact.

Far past an, ‘I miss you’—something else entirely, not that he’d admit as much.

hermosa I’m really getting worried now

He doesn’t want to call.

Doesn’t want to invade your privacy, your space. But it’s knotting inside of him. The things he’s seen, rushing to the surface, pecking away, making him overthink.

His mind conjures ideas that you’re hurt, wounded. That you’re crying, alone. Each flash of his past has the curated blob-of-a-face he’s created for you, written over it.

His fingers twitch, hand moving to his pocket before remembering there are no cigarettes to be found there. He quit. Ages ago. Felt better for it—for the most part—until now.

Now when all he wants is to focus on the taste, the way smoke swirls with the warm Texas air—

Hey, I'm so sorry, I had a bad day. Just didn’t check my phone.  shit hermosa, you scared me.  almost called you.  Really? yeah  Would you? what call you Yeah?

[Dialing number…]

you declined  I did

His heart sinks, crashes, and plummets. 

Then a new vibration, one that travels down his fingers to his wrist, suddenly staring at an instruction: Give me your landline number, be cheaper. For both of us. 

Glancing into the living room, he taps the number in for you. Hating each precious second he wastes by having to delete a letter that should be a number.

Pushing the chair back, hearing it screech as he hovers. Nervousness thumps through him, making him shake, vibrate. 

Staring, willing the phone to ring.

Even as he tries to collect himself, his mind has already begun running away from him. Hearing his pulse thump in his ear, thump, thump—

And then it’s ringing—you’re ringing. 

His voice shouts out he’ll get it as he picks up the phone from the hook. 

“Javi… that you?”

Grinning, he laughs, light and airy. “Hi. Yeah, it’s me.” 

Silence blankets his ears and the air, thumb circling a knot in his forehead. 

Smiling, he changes the phone to his other ear. “Knew you’d sound pretty. You have a nice voice.” 

“Shut up, Javi. I’ve said three words.”

“And a few more.”

He hears you suck in a breath as heat rushes to his ears, feeling the edges of his lips curl into a smile.

“You wanna talk about it or talk about something else?” 

He hears you take a breath another breath. Different this time, all accompanied by a shuffling sound from your end.

“Something else. If that… that’s okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Alright, lemme… lemme think for a second—“

You clear your throat, “You have a nice voice, too, by the way.”

Pausing, he bites the inside of his cheek. “Like you imagined?”

“Better, honestly.”

“I could have called you. I have this additional thing on our plan—so my Pop could call. When I was away.” 

“From when you were in Colombia?”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he nodded. “Yeah…” 

“Well, if this conversation goes well, you may get a new number to add to your phone book.” 

“That so? Who’s flirting now.”

You laugh, sweet—fluttering its gorgeous wings down the phone to his ear as he readjusts the phone.

Dropping his voice, he turns more to the walls. “So, what you wearing, baby?”

“Oh my god, Javi.”

He doesn’t even mute his laughter, just lets it flow from him—rushing through the house. Not even caring if his Pop can hear him in the next room.

"I'm wearing nothing."

"Hermosa, you tease."

You laugh, and it's different. It's rich, and makes the room glow around him, without you even being here.

"I'm not really, I'm in a baggy t-shirt."

"Not as sexy, but I'm sure I can work with it."

You snort, "Javi, stop."

He wonders if your cheeks are warm. He hopes they are.

Leaning against the wall, he smirks, if only to himself. "I like how you say my name, Hermosa."

an: thank you so much for all being wonderful, i heart you

[billthedrake]

HALL PASS

Story idea from @aestheticsupremacy

It was still summer warm as the two lacrosse jocks walked across campus after practice. Brian was going on about the chick he had a date with late that evening and was teasing Jake.

"Dude... if you ever wanted pussy, you'd be so set. Girls fucking love gay guys."

Jake laughed, his blond hair still on the lighter side from summer beach time. He and the star attacker got along great because they never BS-ed each other. "Bro, I don't think it works that way," he said, flashing his dimples. "Besides, I think all those sorority girls want a gay pal they can go to the clubs with. I can't dance worth shit."

"You can't," Brian grinned. "You got the moves on the field but, fuck..."

Both guys laughed as they entered the residence hall, one of the nicer ones where a lot of the athletes lived.

"Hey Jake!" the student worker at the front desk said when he saw the two jocks. "Some mail came for you."

"Mail?" he asked as the walked up to the desk. Normally, mail got delivered to their mailboxes, which Jake didn't check regularly. Who the fuck sends mail these days anyway, other than advertisers?

The desk guy nodded. "Yeah, certified or something. Looks important." He reached over and pulled out a document sized cardboard envelope.

"Hey, I'll catch ya later, Hoss," Brian said as he bumped fists with his teammate buddy.

"Yah," Jake said, then looked back down at the envelope. There was a familiar return address. It was his dad's work. Jake's father was a high-powered executive - not Fortune 500 but CFO for a top financial firm. Leave it to Dad to send paperwork in hard copy. Jake tried to rack his brain to guess what document was so urgent, but maybe it was some school form he needed to sign. Maybe Jake should take more responsibility for those things, but his dad tended to look after the details.

"Thanks, Mitch," he told the desk guy, then went to the elevators to go up to his room.

It was quiet in his room, since his roommate had taken off Thursday afternoon to go home for a long weekend. He got along well with Ed, a varsity baseball player, but they weren't real tight. And Jake liked having the alone time and privacy sometimes.

The lacrosse jock set down his phone and keys and shook his head with a chuckle as he opened the envelope. "You're so fucking old school, Dad," he said aloud. "I love it."

It wasn't a form inside, but instead there was a linen-white stationary with his Dad's company logo and his father's name and title embossed. "From the Desk of Steven J. Weir."

It was what was printed below that made Jake's heart stop.

"Dear Mr. Wier:

This letter serves as official notice that Jacob Peter Weir has his father's permission to have sex as often as he likes and with whomever he likes, from the date of August 20, 2023 to May 14, 2024. This arrangement will be extended in subsequent years unless the two parties renegotiate their terms.

sincerely,

Steve Weir"

There was his father's recognizable wide, cursive signature, undoubtedly written with one of his favorite blue-ink fountain pens that his family had given him for Christmas.

Jake was rock hard. "Fuck," he hissed.

Only then did he realize there was something else in the envelope. He reached in and pulled out three photographs, each 8x10 glossy portraits of this father. They were different poses of his dad in business attire, like professional headshots for a company website or something.

"Got your package," the jock texted his father.

It took a second but then a message came up from Dad: "You able to Facetime?"

Jake got a big grin as he hit the dial button to video call his father. His heart jumped a little as the image filled his phone screen. His dad was in his C-suite office and looking handsome as fuck in his tailored suit as his own horny grin matched his son's.

"Hey Sport," he said. "Looking good." He leaned back in his swivel chair and angled the phone to give Jake a better view of his suited upper body. He had a good knowledge by now of what pushed his boy's buttons.

"You too Dad," the jock hissed, reaching down to paw his crotch again. "I can't believe it's only been 24 hours since I've seen your face... fuck."

His father laughed. Because Steve felt the same way. He knew it would be hard when Jake went off to college, but he was going through sexual withdrawal in addition to the normal empty nest syndrome.

Only now his bright smile got a hint of nervousness. "What did you think of what I sent you, son?"

Jake felt that constriction in his throat. Sorta like the first time he knew he was gonna fuck his dad... that combination of sheer horniness and disbelief it was gonna happen.

"You know, Dad," the 19-year-old smirked, "A hall pass isn't an actual piece of paper."

Steve's brown eyes seemed bright. Happy. Excited. "I wanted to make it official. For you. For us." The exec was definitely getting that bedroom voice, and Jake could tell by the movement in his dad's upper body that the man was reaching down to unzip and haul out his cock.

For his part Jake tugged down his shorts with one hand to free his junk, which was firming up real fucking fast. His father had given him the encouragement to freeball it, and it was now Jake's preferred way of casual dress. It made him feel free and sexual.

Jake prided himself on the sexual confidence he'd learned to project with his dad, but times like this he still felt unsure, deep down. "I told you, Dad. I don't need to have sex with other guys."

"You're 18, Sport," his dad said resolutely. "A college kid should be spreading his wings."

Jake got a playful grin. His right hand was working up and down his bone while his left hand held the phone. "You really want me to fuck other guys?" he asked. Pointed. Challenging.

Steve shook his head no. "Honestly, no. I don't. But I want you to lead the life that's going to make you happy." His own fist was working up and down in his lap. "I want you to become your own man, Jakey."

Something about that nickname drove the jock wild. He felt a spurt of precum in his palm. "You think sending me 8x10 glossies is gonna make me happy," he hissed. Jake's tone was halfway between a statement and a question.

Steve loved watching his son get in horndog mode. He'd like to think he passed that on to Jake genetically, but something about the kid's sex drive seemed innate. And all Jake.

The exec's voice got low and gravely. "You tell me, son. Did they make you happy?"

Jake just let go of his prick and angled his phone down to capture the hard teen bone that stood up long and rigid. "This is the reaction those pics got." He pulled the phone back up to see the amused and pleased look on his father's face.

"I'm glad," Steve said. Then with a pause, he angled the phone to show Jake his own fatherly prick, standing out from his unzipped suit.

"I wish I could suck that, Dad," Jake said, enjoying the freedom to talk aloud like this. "I wish I was there right now."

"You primed for some office sex, Sport?"

"Fuuuckk, Dad." Jake's fist was now steadily pumping his jock bone. "I'm still pissed off you won't let me fuck you there."

That got a laugh out of his father. The 49-year-old was even more handsome when he smiled. "You're a spoiled brat, you know that?"

"Fuck yeah I am," Jake shot back, getting into the zone with the teasing sex talk with his father. It came to them so fucking easily. "Something about nailing your dad regularly will make you that way."

That got a soft growl from the executive, and Jake watched as his father reached up to flip his tie over the shoulder of his suit coat, getting it out of the way.

"Damn, you gonna cum on your shirt today, Dad?"

Steve shook his head. "Hopefully not... but just in case. You get me so worked up, Sport." Off screen Jake knew his father had gone back to stroking his hard dick.

"So, Dad... if I take you up on that hall pass... what are you gonna do?"

"Whaddya mean, Jakey?"

"I mean..." the teen's own fist was working up and down his cock. "Does that mean you get a hall pass, too?"

"That's not part of the deal," Steve said, his brown eyes now wide with excitement. "But Buddy... I honestly don't know how I'm gonna get through this year. I guess I'll be doing a lot more of what I'm doing right now."

That got a matching growl from his son, whose hand moved faster and faster on his prick. "A fucking waste of dad cum."

That got a grin from Steve. "You like my sperm, huh, Jakey?"

"Can't get enough, Dad," came the immediate response. For a confident top when it came to fucking, Jake loved to taste his dad's prick and to eat his father's semen. When he wasn't sucking his dad off, he'd be licking the cum off the man's well-fucked body.

The jock felt another spurt of precum when his Dad brought the phone down close to his crotch, that solid, thick seven incher sticking out from the unzipped suit trousers.

"That's my dad," Jake growled. He'd have to find a way to have phone sex more often.

"Wanna cum for me, Jakey?" Steve asked, his voice signaling he was already on the edge.

"Nah," the jock said. "Hold off one second," he urged. He set down the phone and stripped off his T-shirt and kicked away his lax shorts. He then angled the phone just right on his desk and stepped back. Even from the distant view, he could see his dad's face will up the phone screen.

"Damn..." Steve growled. "That's my boy."

Jake felt fully alive, head to toe, as he stroked his cock and showed off for his father. He knew he was a good looking stud, with a great toned, athletic body. But his father's approval made him feel that much studlier.

"So Dad..." the teen asked. "If I used that hall pass, you wanna hear about the guys?"

"I don't know, Sport," Steve said with visible mixed feelings. "I'll let that be your call, OK?" He watched his son intently, as if it was the last chance he'd see Jake naked and hard. "I almost didn't send it," he confessed.

That made his son grin and Jake removed his fist from his dick, showing off the erection by swinging it side to side. "Yeah? It was so fucking hot to read it, Dad. You know, that you'd even send it."

"I'm glad, Jake," came Steve's reply.

"We're you hard writing it?" the son asked.

Steve's voice got soft and low. "I was, son."

"You want me spreading my wings in college, huh?" Jake's hand resumed its stroke. He really wanted his dad to cum first today but he didn't know if he'd be able to hold off.

Fortunately, Steve was getting into the zone now. Jake could only see his face, not his cock or masturbating fist, but he recognized that horny tone in his father's voice. "God, Jakey, you're such a fucking stud... seems wrong if you can't enjoy college a little, you know?"

Jake grinned, getting into a slow stroke that seemed to keep things on the boil without erupting over. "Maybe I'll line up some hot coach to fuck... but you know if I do, I'll be thinking of you the whole time, Dad."

That got an audible groan from Steve. Which only encouraged Jake to go further.

"Yeah, I'll be balls deep in some daddy ass and have to shut my eyes so I can think of my father... of fucking you..."

"Yes," Steve hissed. He was getting closer to cumming.

"of bending my dad over his office desk and pulling down those suit pants of yours..."

"You're not gonna stop pestering till you get that will ya, Jakey?"

"No, sir. I wanna get my way. Nail you hard to that expensive desk of yours... in your expensive suit... to thank you for all that expensive tuition you paid over the years."

This was new territory for the Weirs. They'd never talked about money, other than some of Steve's jokes about how much Jake's private school cost and some practical dad-son talks about personal finance. But Jake was bringing it into the sex talk and both men were surprisingly turned on by it.

"FUCCK!" Steve cried a half second before choking his reaction to be quieter in his office.

"Go for it, Dad!" the lacrosse jock said more openly. He stepped up closer so he could see his dad's face as he rode out an intense orgasm. "Nice!"

Steve's face was flush red as he caught his breath. "Goddamn, I needed that," he said. Then playfully he tilted his phone down. Huge splotches of his pearly white seed dotted his dress shirt after all.

"Cumming!" Jake cried, unable to hold by his ejaculation now. Steve had to look, had to watch his Jakey in full nut. It was just a beautiful sight. The only thing more beautiful was watching Jake orgasm as he was buried deep inside his father.

"Attaboy, Sport," he encouraged. "Goddamn, that's a huge nut."

Jake grinned as he felt the aftershocks. Playfully, he squeezed out dribbles from his long piece of jock meat and brought it up to his lips to taste. Not his dad's but a second best. Jake just loved the flavor of cum.

He could now tell his father was wiping off the cum from his shirt and his cock before pulling the phone back.

"That was incredible," Steve said.

"I'll say. I'll have to thank Rich for giving me the free time," Jake laughed.

"Is he away?"

Jake nodded. "All weekend. Maybe we can go long and deep this weekend, you know, edge a little."

Steve grinned. "I'll try, Sport.... awful hard to last with you, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Jake agreed.

His Dad seemed happy and yet sad at the same time. "Listen, I should go."

"Yeah," Jake said. "I need some dinner."

"I miss ya, Sport," Steve said. "So much."

"Miss ya too, Dad."

****

Steve felt nervous all Saturday. Jake had suggested they wait till later in the day for phone sex. The father tried to kill time with household chores and a super long session at the gym.

"You're a fucking mess, Steve," he said to himself as he drove home from the fitness center where he'd been spending a lot more time since the divorce and especially since he and Jake started fooling around. It felt wrong to be so attached to his own son, and yet he was.

There was a package on his front porch. FedEx Saturday delivery. Steve picked it up.

"What the fuck?" Steve laughed as he saw his son's dorm as the return address. "That little bugger."

As he opened the door and stepped in, the man squished the sides of the plastic package-envelope. It was soft inside. Steve opened the end with the pull tab.

As he pulled out the fabric, Steve Weir recognized the shorts immediately. They were a well-worn pair of Jake's high school lacrosse shorts. Wadded inside was a worn jock strap.

"Jesus," Steve hissed with excitement. Maybe Jake wanted him to have these for their session today. Or maybe this was just for the times it was Steve, alone in his bedroom, imagining a grown son who wasn't there with him.

Either way, Steve knew both the shorts and the jock were gonna be crusted with his own cum before long.

It was only after a second that he noticed scraps of paper on the floor. They'd fallen out, hand torn.

Steve immediately sensed what they were, and a quick look confirmed it. It was the hall pass he'd sent Jake.

"Man, buddy," he said aloud in the quiet room as he pulled out his phone. He had to call his son.

"Hey Dad"

"Oh, Jakey..." Steve said.

"You got it."

"Yeah, I got it," his dad replied. "You're not doing this just to make me happy are you?"

"Maybe," Jake said. "But not really. I don't know, Dad. I just realized I'd rather have blue balls than fuck a substitute you, you know?"

"Sport, that's the most fucking romantic thing anyone's ever said to me," Steve beamed.

That made his son laugh. "Yeah, that's me, one romantic fucker... just promise me one thing, Dad."

"Anything," Steve said.

"We gotta find away to see each other through the semester. Yeah, I know you want me to go off and be my own man. But I can't wait till Thanksgiving. For real, Dad."

"Yeah, we'll make it happen. I'll come down next week. And fly you up whenever you want. Promise." This was a backpedal from the promises Steve made himself when Jake went off, but he realized he was happy changing his stance.

"Cool. God, Dad, I love you."

"Love you too, Jakey," Steve said. He looked down at the scraps of paper and everything they represented. "And son... next time you're here, I'll let you fuck me on my desk."

[celebtf]

The Meet & Greet experience: Nick Jonas

Tyler sat on a worn-out bench under the large oak tree in the quad, his sanctuary between classes. A sophomore at Hartfield University, majoring in Computer Science, he found solace in his phone amidst coursework stress.

After a busy afternoon, Tyler returned to his dorm, dropping his backpack by the door before sinking into his couch. The dimly lit room held the remnants of a long day, with textbooks piled high on the desk and posters of his favorite band, the Jonas Brothers, adorning the walls.

Tyler was scrolling around on his phone when he saw that Jonas brothers had a Giveaway " Donate $1 and get the chance to win a meeting " Tyler was over the moon, Ofcourse he knew he wouldn't stand a chance to the rich fans that could donate multipule times, yet he really wanted to try to see if maybe he had a chance. Tyler took out his card, donate three times got his number and then hoped for it all.

The last day of the competiton came around and Tyler kept refreshing his mail and the Jonas Brothers Instagram to see if there was any news, any notifications, dm anything really. Tyler had basically gave up, no Mail, dm or notification had come in.

* Pling *

" Jonas Brothers has set you a E-mail " Tyler slowly opened up the mail he had gotten seconds before, shaking he started to read the E-mail " Hi welcome to the Jonas Brothers Five albums Live show as a VIP Meet & Greet guest " Tyler couldn't believe his eyes, he had really won something for once.

The day of the concert had come around, Tyler was dressed in his " I Love Nick " shirt and had his Backstage Meet & Greet badge, he was walking to Entré G, showed his Badge to the security guy and they asked him to go and wait right over there.

A tall blond and walked in " You must be Tyler, right? " Tyler nodded nervously and took the man's hand. " Just follow me ". The two men started walked backstage and Tyler couldn't help but to look around and see all the posters on the walls. They stopped right before a black door and Tyler was shaking, was this really Happening?

" Just Knock and walk in, they are ready for you" the man waved and left Tyler infront on the door, he had to pinch himself, he wasn't dreaming. Tyler Knocked on the door a loud " Come in " and he opended the door, right there sat the three band-members Joe,Kevin and Nick, they all started to shake Tyler's hand and greeted him very Kindly.

The boys showed Tyler around, behind the stage, the lights, the soundbooth, the Arena floor and lastly the Costume room, Tyler was showed the Iconic leather pants, the Jersey shirts, they joked around in there for sometime " Hey try one of my caps, I think it would suit you " Nick gave him one the the caps hanging, Nick had been right, Tyler loved the cap.

" Can I just use the toilet guys? I'm so sorry for bothering or taking up time"

Tyler was showed to the Toilets by Nick, who waited outside, just incase Tyler got lost on the way back.

Tyler was wasing his hands when he started to notice them become bigger and hairy, which was weird for him, his arms started to grow lot more hair too. It was getting hotter inside the toilet, he felt like he was overheating, his arms begun to bulk up, these were the type of muscles Tyler had dreamed of.

His shirt ripped and he felt his pecs grow and his felt a something like a punch in the stomach, it was abs forming. Tyler couldn't handle the pain, his vision became darker.

Five minutes later he came back, splashed his face with water and looked inside the mirror, his jaw, new jaw was on the floor, it wasn't himself, but Nick looking back at him in the mirror. How? He couldn't understand how?

" Nick are you almost done, we are on in 10 minutes, hurry up " the new Nick didn't know what to do, but he rushed back to the Costume department, grabbed the first thing he saw, kept the hat on, and went out on stage.

[fatgumsurpremacy-remastered]

Listen dude listen-

Yandere Vox with a fat fem reader is insane to meeeee I need to write

Tw: Vox being creepy, time period fat phobia (1950s), 50s diet culture shit, reader doesn’t fucking care bc that shit was stupid and the only time she’s self conscious is when Vox is being gross n weird, Gossip, inappropriate behavior, stalking, coercion (nonsexual), noncon touching, Vox saying nasty shit but no actual smut, hypno later in the story.

When You’re Just You- Yandere Vox x Fat Fem reader

Being alive was always a hassle, and being dead was even worse. Because in death you realized quickly that the freak on TV was the same freak who plagued your existence when you were alive… and he was untouchable.

When you were alive you lived in a teeny tiny little suburban neighborhood; with white picket fences and houses in pretty neat rows. You were surprised your parents made it to the neighborhood but supposed you’d be grateful for the gifts god had given you. So you grew up, graduated high school and delved headfirst into the 1950’s!

What a time to be alive.

Men fawned over ladies they saw at the parlor or even at the grocers, with little respect for themselves making it a sight to see a man fumble only to speak to you normally.

Because you- were approachable.

At least from what they could see.

Yes, they’d grown to expect a petite woman with 'flowy' dresses and perfect hair. A beautiful skirt, they chased, hoping to catch and mount like a trophy on the wall. To their credit- a good amount of women in your town fit the bill- and let you know it. Though that truly didn’t matter, you’d smile happily at them and tell them they were lucky, and loved, and beautiful.

But you’d throw in just how nice your dress looked on you and with that they’d compliment right back. While some were backhanded others genuinely agreed, and those were the ladies you spent your time around.

Men seemed to not care and would spare you only 'good mornings', or quick and casual chats at the diner when their fling hadn’t waltzed in.

It was cozy until they made comments that would make you screw up your face in disgust.

“And I suppose you’d know all about a woman’s body wouldn’t you Dick?”

The man would pull at his tie with a sheepish grin, turning away in embarrassment, not bothering to close the conversation. And for a while- it was nice.

Till Tom Leery introduced you to a friend of his. The man was only introduced as Vox- a nickname obtained in high school; a tv salesman extraordinaire, and an eligible bachelor of 34.

When Tom broached the subject to you on a sunny afternoon visit to your parents porch to deliver some mail you’d wanted to scoff.

“Please Tommy, you hardly speak of me much less brag about me. How would this man even know I exist!” But Tom would insist-

“I’m tellin you! He popped up one day and started yappin away about you. He’s love sick, and has been crawling up my spine beggin me to ask you to see him for a date!” Tom begged, hands clasped together so hard you could see them going from white to red, to white again.

And so you relented.

You’d see this “eligible bachelor” and tell him off so royally for ruining an evening you could spend listening to jazz and shooting it with your family.

But when you went outside that fateful night you thought your eyes decived you. A handsome man in a boxy navy suit, light blue undershirt, and a red tie. His black hair seemed to catch every highlight from his outfit. He was more tan than others but his eyes were this... piercing blue.

He looked like a regular Superman, and his smile fit the bill.

It was a damn shame his mouth didn’t.

That’s why your father didn’t approve.

The moment he caught your form he smiled wildly, and it would’ve been a small fairytale moment had it not been for the sharp whistle that came after.

“Well! Look who it is, how are you doing gorgeous?” And for a moment you were flabbergasted, you checked behind you to only spot your animals in the window, and dad barely hidden in the small crack of the doorway.

“Excuse me?” You’d say to his amusement as he started his way up to your home.

“Gorgeous!” He’d repeat, before stopping in front of you, tall, broad frame leering over you before he’d take your hand and give it a kiss that lasted entirely too long. You’d ponder giving the date up and moving back inside had it not been for Tom’s insistence. “You ready to burn rubber?”

“I’d rather not be in the car with an arsonist thank you.” You replied, and the response etched itself into a part of Vox’s brain.

“Smart woman!” He’d say, which would've sound condescending if it weren’t for his posture, stiff and shaking, eyes lidded and foot tapping impatiently. “Should’ve known you’d be witty, not like the rest of the girls here huh?”

And that wouldve rubbed you the wrong way. Had you been less polite you might have bit out a cutting remark on his own beauty, but you held back. After all it was time you let yourself be treated to something nice.

So soon you were off. And the date started when his black Coronet whizzed down the road, barely giving you time to click into the front seat and adjust to your chair.

“So- what’s your favorite time of day? You got a favorite dog breed? If you were put in a room with 3 men who would you feel safest around and haha- you don’t have to say me. I wouldn’t be offended. If you did though- why?” Vox would spew questions at a rate that made you wonder if he just liked hearing himself talk- meaning you barely got time to answer one before he insufferably pulled you up and into a huge restaurant nearly two towns over.

“This is a tad-“

“Shabby? Yeah I called for reservations uptown but your dad said no. So here we are,” Vox would sigh as if your father’s judgement was so wrong before smiling again and grabbing your hands with his, “But maybe you can convince him to let us next time!”

Reservations grasped at the strung nerves in your body the more time you spent with him, as his hand met yours any chance it could get. As he yapped away about sales and meetings, or pitches for shows that he would air on tv.

“So I sent the script into Dan around two o’clock that afternoon and he never got back to me!”

“Uh huh…”

“What kind of a cop out is that? You think you know a guy… do you want to hear what it’s about?”

“Have you even ordered yet?” He’d be taken aback by this, smiling shyly before coming back full force.

“I’ve actually been waiting to see what you’re getting… I have trust in your appetite…”

The insinuation wasn’t lost on you, it surprised you however- was his tone alongside the hand that only seemed to crawl further up your arm resting on the table.

One you withdrew quickly into yourself as you blinked owlishly back at him.

“I’m sorry?”

“You want me to order for you? Why didn’t you just say anything- oh and hey! You don’t worry about seconds or anything I’ve got it covered. Have to keep my girl well-“

“Just get me a salad.” It was his turn to act baffled as he pulled out his wallet and looked at you incredulously, throwing his hands out like you insulted him before looking around and leaning an arm on the table.

He spoke like he was telling you a secret and expecting one in return.

“You’re beautiful- don’t let anyone else in this place get you down because you- are one of a kind.” He leaned in really close, too close and poked you square between your collarbone, knowing if he got further he would’ve poked between your tits and he smiled. “I actually like ladies like you, I’ve found they can handle more...” His gazeonly drifted lower, bit lip caught between his upper cainies as he unabashedly attempted to peer down your dress.

"...Thrilling Endeavours~"

Needless to say you were uncomfortable.

Suddenly you felt ten sizes too large and sat back with an obvious look of disgust on your face. Something everyone else around you seemed to notice. And so the whispers started.

“I… want a salad thank you.” You’d say again, grimacing as his smile dropped and he rolled his eyes. “Is everything-“

“Yeah yeah everything is fine- fuckin phenomenal no issues here… can’t go one night without fuckin' things up-“ Vox grumbled, hands shoving a card and some money back into its case before childishly flipping the menu up and going silent.

Eyes seemed to burn into you and you felt shame and embarrassment crawl up your neck. You turned your own to your wine and sipped it slowly before placing it down and crossing your arms over your lap, accentuating their weight.

Vox looked over the menu with a small glare before speaking too loud for comfort.

“They’ve got three different salads and all of them only have one ingredient differences, are you su-“

“Positive.” And he would huff, setting the menu down harshly before flagging a waiter over. One who had been snickering at a table in front of you only a few minutes earlier.

You let your head down as he spoke to Vox, who seemed to notice your discomfort and was at least sorry he pulled a stunt like he did. His hand was back in the center of the table as if he was inviting you to grab it.

In an effort you stepped up and lightly touched it, which willed him to grab it so hard it felt like it would break. “Ah-“

“Don’t- if I give you the chance to, will you order something… better?”

“I said I want a salad Vox." You answered with a glare. His eyes seemed to darken at this, flitting back to the waiter as his jaw set in annoyance.

"That'll be two steaks for the table, and ugh-" he snapped his fingers - " Do me a favour and dont take all night, I'm trying to treat this little lady to something nice, and shes just being difficult." The waiters smirk was pointed as he wrote down the order. "That'll be two of our house special steaks, and bottle of vintage for you and your sist-" Vox's shadow loomed over the table as he prepared to chew the young man out, his ears growing red from agictation.

"Friend!" Was what you cut in with, a hand resting soothingly on the back of Vox's, thumb interlocked with his, causing his pupils to blow wide as the waiter straightened his posture. "He's taking me out as a courtesy dinner on behalf of our friend Tom Leery." You said succinctly, watching the stress melt off smoothly from Vox's shoulders.

The waiter looked between the two of you, nodding understandably, as he was clearly grateful you deescalated the situation he started.

"Mhm, my mistake ma'mm, and... sir. We'll have your food out shortly." *To be continued.*

[hauntedhokage]

kiss prompt: kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference from this list

word count: 537

The building’s elevator had been under maintenance for a few days, so the stairwell was where you were more likely to see your neighbors due to the time it took all of you to brave the stairs back up to your homes - or prepare to do so by chatting in the lobby. The professional soccer player who lived across the hall from you was no exception to the need to prepare to climb the stairs, which was how you ended up with him carrying your grocery bag for you this afternoon as he followed you up the stairs. He’d been idly going through his mail by the door to the stairwell when you’d walked by with a greeting, your bag transferring from your hand to his when he held it out without either of you putting too much thought into it. 

This had become the new routine with the elevator down; he didn’t want to climb the stairs alone after practicing all day and you didn’t want to carry your stuff up the few flights of stairs, so your cute neighbor and friend would always wait for you in the evenings. It really was no different than when the elevator was working - unless otherwise communicated between the two of you, Oliver was always hanging out in the lobby when you came home so he could chat with you on the way up to your homes. 

“How’s the latest round of girlfriends?” you ask over your shoulder, earning a snort from Oliver as he continues to climb the stairs behind you. Always behind you since his thighs started to get sore around this time so he moved slower - but always teased that he just didn’t want you checking out his ass. “Or are you still taking time off from dating?”

“Still on hiatus,” he responds, and you don’t have to turn around to see the smirk on his face that went with his tone. He was proud of himself. “Trying to prove myself worthy of my true goal girlfriend.”

“She’s not impressed by the two week hiatus?”

“I don’t think she’s caught on to being my goal.” His answer has you stopping on the stairs, turning around to face him only to be eye to eye with him for once - and feeling just a bit taller than him. It was cute seeing him look up at you, even if just barely. “I guess my cute neighbor is kinda oblivious.”

You don’t even think before leaning in, your mouth connecting with his in a tender kiss. Your hand continues to grip the railing for stability as his arm snakes around your waist to pull you in closer, a satisfied hum leaving him when your teeth graze his bottom lip. If you’d known you had been the reason he was slowing down the carousel of women through his door, you would’ve kissed him sooner, and you make sure to tell him as much when you finally pull away. 

“I stopped all that after we had the almost kiss, you’re a smart woman so I figured you’d put the pieces together.” His response has you sighing, but doesn’t stop you from leaning in to kiss him again. “Dinner tonight? I’ll cook.”