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excalibur-gone-missing · 9 months ago

Text

Paring: seungcheol x fem!reader

Requested: no

Release date: 24-04-24

Genre: mafia au, reverse of getting kidnaped by the mafia boss, fluff, e2l, crack, assistant au

Warning(s): mention of abduction, guns?, cheol is a menace, brief mentions of drugs (do tell me if i missed anything)

summary: It was not supposed to be like this, it was a meticulous plan perfectly curated by you, Jun and Seokmin. You were supposed to go get the man who was the future heir of the Kim Corps named Mingyu, you ever had a pic of his. Most importantly it was definitely not supposed to be the man who now sits in your basement claiming that he is the leader of the mafia organisation you three work for.

Word count: 5.8k

Other works

Beta reader(s): @wonuwrites-main and @anonmonty (sweet sweet angles helped me with proof reading, or else im fucking incompetent)

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.

a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask.

[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]

It is a beautiful day, and like they always say: beautiful things happen on beautiful days, and you were damn ready for the said beautiful thing to happen!

The plan is simple—you and Jun have gone over it at least fifty times, and Seokmin has been standing there listening to you both intently throughout the whole ordeal.

“So, let’s go over it once again,” you say, pointing at the white board with the picture of a man, Mingyu to be exact, the heir to the Kim Corp. and your target.

“He leaves his office to have coffee every afternoon exactly at 3pm at the nearest café named ‘Carvery’, am I right?” Jun and Seokmin nod with a concentrated look on their faces.

“Next he goes to the park, sits there for fifteen minutes, on most days, and then takes the path that leads them straight back to the building, correct?” The two men again nod, and then Jun takes over the talking.

“More often than not, he hates company during his afternoon runs, so the best chance we have of abducting the man is when he is between the café and the park. This will give us at least a twenty-minute head start before the police and his family start looking for him.”

Now you and Seokmin nod at the man, and Seokmin takes the podium to present the next part.

“Jun and I will be on the streets while y/n waits in the car, and from the background check we ran last month, we know the man is well trained in martial arts, so we will try and attack him with the anesthetic as soon as possible.”

“And after the guy is unconscious, we will flee with his ass~,” adds Jun.

“Sounds like a solid plan,” you laugh as you high five the two men.

Indeed, it was a solid plan. You three had considered every possibility and chosen this day to execute your plan. It’s perfect and thorough, so what can go wrong?

A lot apparently.

You reached the destination ten minutes early to give Seokmin and Jun ample amount of time to prepare for the attack.

As you parked your car near the pavement where the abduction would take place, you see a man walk past the car wearing a beige trench coat with some sort of concoction from the coffee shop.

Now if you were a seasoned abductor, you would have known not to mess with the person as the timing was not right. But that was not the case, and seeing a person who vaguely matched the physical descriptions of the man you were actually supposed to abduct gave you enough reason to jump the gun and take this man hostage.

Before you could process anything, Seokmin jumped on the guy, trying to tackle him while Jun tried to find a way to inject the drug into his system. After another minute of struggle, taking at least five punches in their abdomen and faces, both the men were successful in sedating the man.

They hurriedly carried him to the car and you three sped off to the base to ask his family for ransom.

You have been back at the base for three hours now. As you look at the unconscious man tied to the chair in front, you realize the grave mistake you made by not seeing his face the minute you were actually kidnapping him.

“I mean if you look at his eyes, they look very similar to the real target, you know. Maybe he ate too much last night and is a bit swollen now,” Jun says in a wise tone. Now if you were stupid like Seokmin, you would have accepted this analogy of his just like the hundred others he had spewed in the past two hours, but you are not. So, you hit the guy’s head while calmly saying.

“Will you keep quiet for a minute? You know as well as I that this is the wrong man. We don’t even know who he actually is. So, we wait for him to gain consciousness and then interrogate him.”

You have figured that screaming and crying will get you nowhere. All it will do is trigger Seokmin’s panic attack, and you do not think he can manage another one after the one hour long one he just resurfaced from.

“Our best bet is that we abducted a pretty important dude, or else we know the boss will have our meat served to his dogs for their nightly feasts,” you continued.

“I can see he is wearing pretty costly brands all over. My guts say he is rich,” Seokmin pipes up.

“Seok, your gut told you to scream for the past hour. I don’t trust it a lot now,” you complain.

“I think it’s your fault, too. You should have stopped us from abducting the guy instead of just staring from the car, you know,” Jun says.

Now, you will consider yourself to be a level-headed person, but one thing that gets to you more than anything else is a false accusation. On top of that, the bitch has the gal to accuse you of being careless when they were the ones showing literally no care about their work, owing to the fact you were not even supposed to abduct the untouchable Kim Mingyu in the first place. The leader of your clan, although you three had never seen him, mostly operated through Jeonghan, his right-hand man. The guy you agreed to kidnap was apparently remarkably close to your boss. But when faced with the tough choice of loyalty towards one gang and the lump sum of three million, you three had to face the situation and betray your gang. You know you should not, but the small jobs with the gang were not enough to even pay your rent!

So, who does Jun think he is to shift the blame towards you when you have done nothing but try to make a secure living for all three of you. Therefore, you do the thing that your sane brain advises you to.

Go off at Jun.

“So, if I fail to babysit two grown men while on an extremely important mission that included them, the blame is shifted towards me?!”

“You were both supposed to wait for my instructions before confronting the poor bloke. Now, if things go wrong, it will be your faults, and I will be dragged into it because I was the main brain behind the planning.”

“Guys, I think we should focus on the guy more; I think he is stirring.”

This statement from Seokmin caught both of your attention, causing you to cease the argument immediately to take a look at the man in front of you.

Without hesitation, you put your gun on his head and ask, “who are you, tell us about yourself.”

The man albeit good looking with his doe eyes and plump lips, gave you three a mean stare before speaking sassily.

“Shouldn’t you know the identity of the person you kidnap?”

“If we knew, I don’t think I would have asked about you,” you reply.

The man scoffs before informing you the most gut-wrenching piece of information you have ever heard.

“I’m Choi Seungcheol leader of Choi Clan.”

When Seungcheol met Mingyu today, he was feeling particularly drained and sought the comfort of a familiar face, longing for a brief respite from the relentless demands of his job. Mingyu, sensing his friend's exhaustion, proposed they take a detour to unwind, considering Seungcheol's grueling schedule. Gratefully accepting the suggestion, Seungcheol had embarked on what he thought would be a much-needed moment of relaxation.

Oh, how wrong he was.

As he leisurely sipped his coffee, enjoying a fleeting moment of calm, the tranquility was shattered by the sudden onslaught of a group of thugs. Seungcheol had braced himself for a possible mugging, but the idea of being abducted never crossed his mind. He curses himself for sending Soonyoung away earlier, now regretting not having company in this unforeseen predicament.

To make matters worse, Seungcheol felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. A mafia boss getting abducted!

How humiliating.

Now, do not get him wrong, he was, in reality, as far from incompetent as the Sahara was from water, as Seungkwan was from being calm, as Jihoon was from showing affection—you get the point.

In fact, he had been the first in three generations to successfully reclaim the southeastern part of the city for his clan from the Yoon family, a testament to his capabilities.

Now bound and surrounded by three hapless captors whose incompetence was glaringly evident, judging by the one who he suspects was crying prior to their conversation with him. He suspected they had targeted Mingyu, but mistakenly seized him instead. Seungcheol could not help but shake his head at their sheer incompetence.

Now, again, he is not that scared. He knows he has a trusted pack of workers who would join heaven and earth in search of him. No, he is least bothered about himself.

What he is actually bothered about is who planned to abduct Mingyu, because he is strictly off limits for his clan members. He knows this as much as anyone that they respect the young heir a lot, not only due to his kind nature, but also because of the relationship he has with their leader.

So, when he informs his three kidnappers his name, he gets the weirdest of responses ever—a chorus of ‘shits’ and ‘fucks.’ Moreover, he sees all three of his kidnappers suddenly fall down at his feet and grumbling out the most nonsensical bullshit ever. The only words he vaguely captures are ‘it was supposed to be someone else’ and ‘sirs’.

This confuses the man even more. But then he suddenly sees all three of them take their masks off, revealing two men and, dare he say, a very gorgeous woman. Now in any other situation,

Seungcheol would have laughed, but now that he is in it himself, the only reaction he can provide is a confused head nod as the woman immediately goes to untie his hands.

“So, you are telling me that you were paid to abduct my friend who you know is off limits, but still went ahead with the idea, even though you are the members of my gang?!”

He says as he looks at your group standing in front of him with their heads bowed down looking like kids getting scolded.

“But sir, we barely make any money from doing the jobs assigned to us. The only way for us to pay our rent was for taking up jobs from outside, and this one paid us a huge sum. We never wanted you to be the one getting abducted instead, we swear!” you suddenly exclaim with the extreme need to explain yourself.

Your two partners beside you do their dutiful job by nodding their heads with your rant.

“You three fucked up really bad, didn’t you?” He says, looking a tad bit amused.

“We are really sorry!” Seokmin chokes out, visibly scared by the whole ordeal.

“Well, it’s time I go back, so take me back to the office.”

Right after that statement comes out of his mouth, you three are escorting him out of the door to the car parked outside to take him back.

“So, you are telling me these three, these newbies who literally didn’t have any good job for them to gain experience, drugged your ass and took you to god knows where, and you couldn’t even put up a good fight?!”

Jeonghan exclaims, looking at the seated, nervous, and scared faces of the three of you from Seungcheol’s office’s glass.

“Apparently not,” the older man sighs.

“My friend, are you sure you are a real mafia? Because in light of the current happenings, I am starting to question your integrity a lot.” Jeonghan says as he barks out a laugh, taking immense pleasure at his friend’s humiliation.

“Or maybe you were too caught up staring at the pretty lady to notice that you were getting kidnapped.”

The bitch continues to make fun of the older man.

“I just thought I was getting mugged, so I didn’t fight hard enough. Who knew I would be kidnapped instead.” Seungcheol grumbles, pouting a bit.

“Which is even worse, because you are telling me you would have let people just mug you for no reason when you are one of the most influential people underground!” Jeonghan said while looking pretty concerned about the statement his superior just spewed, and he does indeed have a hard time accepting it.

“Ahh! Just get over with it and let me go. Plus make sure the three of them face the appropriate consequences for not only abducting me, but also trying to abduct my friend,” Seungcheol barks out while walking out, thoroughly humiliated, and annoyed that his junior was having fun at his expense.

So Jeonghan does the very thing at which he is extremely good.

Create chaos.

Right after his superior leaves, he strides towards the group and says, “so because the boss has instructed me to do something with you three which will stop you guys from going off the hook, I’m going to assign you some jobs in the organization because I can.”

Now, anyone even vaguely familiar with Jeonghan would recognize the expression he wore just before chaos ensued, but contrary to popular belief, Jeonghan is actually quite amiable—at least, that is what he believes, and that is what matters, right?

He continues, “Junhui, you will be overseeing the artillery division. Our deputy head Chan will ensure you are well informed about your job. You will meet him tomorrow. As for Seokmin,” he paused, a sly smile crossing his face, which made Seokmin visibly nervous, “You, my friend, will be our esteemed boss's driver. Lastly, y/n, you will be his assistant. You shall be meeting Chan tomorrow, too; he will explain the workings of your new role.”

Normally, in any ordinary conversation, you would not dare ask inappropriate questions, but the circumstances were far from normal, so you proceeded with the most audacious question you could muster: “Why did Chan leave his previous post?”

Jeonghan politely responded, “He left because the job didn’t suit him, so we shifted him to the artillery department as a deputy head.”

Unspoken was the fact that Chan had been worn down by the boss's relentless bullying, quietly requesting a transfer for at least three years before Jeonghan finally relented. Since then, the turnover of assistants had been alarmingly high. Jeonghan desperately hoped you would stick around. Moreover, if either you or Seungcheol objected to this arrangement, he had enough leverage to ensure you both comply. Enough dirt to keep both of you in line.

Your meeting with Chan the next day went well. He explained to you the workings, gave you tips and tricks on how to make sure all the work gets done. Overall, a 10/10 experience, except the small hiccup at the end where he cryptically said something along the lines of “Best of all fucking luck with this job because you will need it.”

Now a small best of luck is never a bad gesture, but that statement!

That shit was a bit too hostile, even for you. But you are fine, happy even. Anything that saves you from getting your life cut short by a mafia leader is always welcomed.

“What are you doing here?”

“Where is Jeonghan?”

The first two sentences to ever leave The Choi Seungcheol’s mouth the minute he sees your face when he comes into his office that afternoon. Indeed, so delightful!

"Sir, I've been assigned as your work assistant for the time being," you reply, your eyes downcast. It is a surreal turn of events considering just yesterday this man was tied up in your basement. After that ordeal, everything seemed to take on a different hue, almost as if you were hearing the bells of heaven. So, that reaction seems pretty appropriate to you given the circumstances.

Now you see our oh so beloved Mr. Choi was not just an underground mob because what is the fun in that, right! He mostly did international business under the guise of his company named The ChoiTech, solely based on providing technological change using sustainable means. Pretty cleaver tactic, although overused, but still gets the job done, so who are you to judge.

The man looking extremely shocked at your statement immediately rushed inside his office, you presume, to call Jeonghan. And sure enough, within five minutes of him disappearing from your sight, you could hear him loudly complaining to his secretary on the phone. “But Jeonghan I can’t be collaborating with her, after what she did to me yesterday!”

The man whined and then suddenly you could hear hushed whispers, so being the curious cat you were, slowly crept near the door to hear the conversation better.

“But man, it’s humiliating. She kidnapped me for fucks sake”, the oh so powerful man, who people assumed will one day rule the underworld, whined like a kid who has been denied to go on a playdate with their best friend.

By this time, you were almost pressed onto the door when suddenly the sound of someone clearing their throat made you jump away from it and look about for the person who stopped you from consuming you daily dose of gossip.

The culprit, Joshua, stood right in front of your desk with an amused look on his face.

Now Joshua is someone you were extremely familiar with, being the man who took care of assigning roles to the lower members of the group, you have had a lot of angry conversations with him.

“I would ask you if Seungcheol is busy, but the way you were trying so hard to eavesdrop, makes me think otherwise,” he says, making you roll your eyes.

“Just give me a minute to tell him you are here, then you can go in.”

The man nodded still looking thoroughly amused at how sad you looked due to missing out on whatever conversation you were listening to.

After a minute, the man was inside, now looking even happier that he has seen his next victim to torment.

“So Jeonghan was indeed right,” he said, looking like he was having a tough time controlling his laugh.

“Not you, too,” the pouty man whined from behind the desk. “But really, can you tell him to not put that woman as my assistant? I get war flashbacks every time I see her face,” he continued whining.

“I mean, I could do that, but where is the fun there, right!” Joshua, thoroughly enjoying his boss’s misery, replied. “But in all seriousness, you could just treat her like Chan. The boy is still traumatized by the amount of work you made him do,” he thoughtfully added.

The older replies, “I liked Chan, he was nice, would do anything you ask him to!”

“And so will she. Her life is at stake here, give her some benefit of the doubt.”

This statement made the older think like never before. Plans of tormenting you to quit your job rushing past his brain at high speed. Suddenly everything made sense.

“I can take my revenge! That is exactly why Jeonghan made her my assistant. Oh, my friend is such a genius!” Seungcheol said, looking a bit too enthusiastic.

“Ok, I am sure it was done to decrease his workload, but whatever you say, man,” the younger said skeptically after seeing the diabolical look on the elder’s face.

It has already been three weeks and suddenly you understand what Chan meant all those days back when he wished you good luck. To put it quite plainly, your boss is crazy.

The man was a combination of workaholic and perfectionist, which resulted in him getting swamped by work and by default the same fate befalls you every day, too. For the past three weeks, you have had a challenging time at the office to even take a break to eat food.

The men you called your enemies once, aka Jeonghan and Joshua, are the ones now saving you from dying out of malnutrition. You are eternally thankful to them. But more than anything now, you regret trying to kidnap Kim Mingyu—the name makes you want to cry in a corner and throw rocks at people, if you had any time to do so.

“Sir, you scheduled two appointments at the same time: the new project for the Orin Community Park and another one with Mr. Xu for the narcotic deal.”

You informed the man who had his face shoved in some papers, reading something diligently.

“Why did you not stop me from doing so then, you were right beside me when I was going through the plan.”

Now, it is your job to curate the perfect schedule for the man to follow, but Seungcheol being the guy born only to cause you inconvenience made his schedule for the week himself this time.

Why you might ask?

Purely because the man is a chronic insomniac and whenever he has trouble sleeping, instead of taking measures to have a peaceful sleep, he tries his hands in different works because he can, and this time his victim was the poor, poor schedule of his.

“Because you had already sent them both emails, sir,” you say, thoroughly exasperated.

“Ok maybe I did, so now I obviously can’t cancel on both so you figure out something so that I can attend both the meetings, because I ain’t missing any.”

The man just turns his chair around and keeps reading whatever he was reading in the first place.

With an extremely calm voice, you say, “sir I need you to stop trying to do something to pass time when you can’t sleep. I need you to actually go to a doctor.” “Can’t,” comes his response, making you sigh more.

Sometimes it feels like you are working as a babysitter to a grown man instead of an assistant to a CEO.

Seeing the conversation would be going nowhere if you keep talking to him, you go out and do the second-best thing in your books.

Call Chan.

“Lemme guess, the boss is giving you a hard time!” The first sentence he says right after picking up the phone.

Sighing, you tell him all of Seungcheol’s various administrative behaviors throughout this week. When you got to the part where he had so bravely and meticulously made the perfect schedule, Chan started laughing. The gall of that boy!

“Wait, he still does that!” He exclaimed between his laughs, making you feel even more annoyed.

After calming down he says, “just make Jeonghan or Jihoon go for the community meeting and let him manage the narc. I know you are thankful, so do not mention it, but maybe buy me a meal when you are free, as a repayment.”

Chuckling at the younger boy, you agreed to get him whatever he asks for purely because he is a literal angel, and he deserves the world. Ok, maybe it is a bit too dramatic, but the boy was indeed your angel in disguise.

Planning on following through with the advice Chan gave you, you called both Jeonghan and Jihoon simultaneously. As Jeonghan was busy, Jihoon accepted the work of going to the community welfare meeting instead of Seungcheol.

After that, the whole day was smooth sailing. But the main root of all your problems was happy, maybe not healthy, but the look of pure happiness and the twinkling eyes when he passed by your desk was hard to miss.

This man was slowly but surely making sure to strip you of your patience bit by bit.

The last straw to eradicating your already depleting patience came when Seungcheol in all his glory, during one of his nightly ‘Imma take away other’s jobs because sleep refuses to befriend me’ escapades, deleted all your assistant notes for the server by mistake.

You still are baffled as to how he did that. Truth be told so is he. He was scrolling away on his phone when he saw this reel about ‘how to increase your Wi-Fi speed.’ Extremely intrigued by it, he had actually tried to increase the internet speed in his house, and he swears on every god on planet earth it worked. So, he tried doing so with the one in his office, which weirdly enough resulted in removal of all the information that you had stored in your laptop.

Now if this would have happened to his computer, too, you would not have gotten as angry as you were, but the motherfucker’s computer was all well and good and if you actually pay attention, it seems that his internet speed has increased, too!

How this man become a CEO is beyond you. What is not so beyond is your pure hatred for him and his technologically challenged ass.

So that night when Seungcheol, stayed back as usual to do work, you took your chances, entered his office, and slammed a ball of yarn and two knitting needles on his table while scaring the life out of the, not so, poor man.

“Start knitting!” you calmly said.

“But I don’t know how to though!” he replies, thoroughly confused.

“Then learn, Seungcheol! I don’t care what you want to do, I need you to learn and pick up a hobby, start gaming, try knitting anything! Just make sure you are not trying to turn the office upside down.”

Anyone who knows Seungcheol also knows never to question his nightly routines, but more than that, they also know the pride of the man is too high to ever accept his mistake. So, when you commit the grave crime of pointing out his mishap with the Wi-Fi router that morning, you hit the nail on the head and pissed him to the fucking moon.

“So, you think I’m bad at what I do?!”

“No, I think you are technically inept. And you should leave it to people who are good at it.”

This pisses off Seungcheol more than anything, but you don’t let him intervene as you keep speaking.

“On top of that you are constantly making changes in your schedule without informing me. You’re your assistant. Maybe have you ever considered the fact that your schedule was made so that your day is smooth sailing, and no two activities overlap!”

“Just because you refuse to go to a doctor and try and find a way to manage your stress does not mean you make the workplace hell for us.”

By the end of your rant, you were fuming and Seungcheol was stunned.

Clearing his throat, he says awkwardly, “I’m sorry you feel so, I will try and fix my schedule.”

Now, although this statement made you feel better, it also confused you, as you were fully prepared to have a full-blown fight with the man. Him backing down was never an option. But now that it has happened, you muttered a small, “I shall be going then”, to which your boss meekly nodded.

After you were outside, you ended up feeling better due to unloading all your anger on the man. It was refreshing. Now you just needed to see what changes tomorrow will bring for Seungcheol.

It had been two months since you had the argument with Seungcheol, more like your single woman shouting spree. But things have been better. He has tried to keep his need for new experiences down and this has made your life exponentially easier.

Did you now have time to eat. Absolutely not!

But the office was not a nightmare anymore.

If someone would have told you five months ago that this is what your future held for you, you would have straight up laughed at their face and told them to get themselves checked. But life has weird ways of throwing you in situations you don’t expect yourself to be in, and you have no other ways of getting out but learn to go with the flow.

You sometimes talk to Jun and Seokmin, and you have realized you got the hardest of all the jobs.

You asked Jeonghan about it once and his answer was, “because I can and its fun!”

So here you are sitting on the couch with Seokmin while enjoying your sandwich when you see Seungcheol come outside carrying a bag, Jeonghan trailing behind him sporting this devilish look on his face.

The big man walks towards you and hands you the bag. Opening it you notice a green scarf sitting at the bottom.

“Seungcheol’s first knitting creation, and he says thank you for forcing him to learn knitting. It helps him sleep now.” Jeonghan says while pointing at the bag even before the older man could open his mouth.

Seokmin tries to make himself as invisible as possible while looking extremely interested in the whole situation unfolding in front of him.

Seungcheol waves his hands at Jeonghan trying to hush him down and whines, “let me speak!”

“I made this cause you told me it would help me sleep! I didn’t think it could actually help me, but it looks like it did, so I’m extremely thankful for your suggestion.”

“Good job!” Jeonghan says, patting Seungcheol’s head like he was a child, making you laugh a bit.

“Thank you for listening to me, sir!”

“Oh, no, call him by his name, or else he will become weird with you again!” Jeonghan says, making you laugh again. Seungcheol pouts at both of you and storms back to his office, with Jeonghan at his tail making fun of him yet again.

After that, you kept the bag in your desk and went to bid your friend goodbye.

“He looked like he was confessing to his crush, you know”, Seokmin muses.

“Maybe he has a crush on you!” He exclaimed after pausing for a moment.

“I don’t, he is a weird person,” you had replied thoughtfully.

Realizing he has been chatting with you for a long time, Seokmin quickly rushes outside while loudly screaming a ‘goodbye’ for the whole building to hear.

When you came back to your desk, Jeonghan was waiting for you there. The man just looked at you with a smirk and said, “see you later y/n, and make sure to wear the scarf!”

Jeonghan is a weird person. You more often than not don’t listen to what he tells you to do. He forces you to do them anyways.

“Seriously, lady, do wear the scarf. Plus, it’s cold outside—you won’t get a heatstroke if you do so.”

With that he was outside of the office, too. Slowly work caught up with you and you forgot about the scarf altogether.

That evening, as you were finishing up at work and preparing to leave, you grabbed the scarf that had been gifted to you and wrapped it around your neck before stepping out of the office.

Unbeknownst to you, the man who had given you the scarf felt a rush of joy upon seeing you wear it. Concealing his flushed cheeks, he quietly followed you out and spontaneously invited you to join him for dinner, explaining that he had given Seokmin the night off and now was in extreme need of a dinner companion, as Seokmin would fill in that position on most nights. It was unusual for him to make such a request, but you were both hungry and couldn't resist the offer of a free meal, even if it was from someone as harmless as him.

"So, what do you think?" Seungcheol asked as the two of you sat at the ramen shop waiting for your orders.

"About what?" You replied, genuinely puzzled by his question.

"Didn't you read the letter?" He asked, his face turning even redder as he mentioned it.

"What letter?" You responded, glancing around until Seungcheol nodded towards the bag in which he gave you the scarf, looking inside you noticed an envelope that matched the interior perfectly sitting at the bottom.

"Oh! I can read it now," you exclaimed.

"Don't worry about it right now," he interjected as the waiter arrived with your bowls of ramen.

Despite his reluctance to discuss the letter further, your curiosity only grew stronger after he dropped you off at your doorstep. Once inside your home, you wasted no time in retrieving the letter from your bag. Its contents filled you with excitement like never before.

The following day at the office, you placed another letter on Seungcheol's desk before getting on with your usual tasks, eager to see his reaction.

"So, let me get this straight—you've been dating our boss for the past month?" Exclaimed Jun, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner? How did this even happen?!" Chimed in Seokmin, equally stunned by the news.

As soon as you revealed your relationship with Seungcheol, you found yourself bombarded with a flurry of questions from your friends. It was amusing to witness their sheer astonishment, and yet, deep down, it felt incredibly rewarding to share this surprising news with them.

What started as a casual hangout quickly transformed into a lively interrogation session, with your friends firing off all sorts of curious inquiries. Most pressing among them was the question:

“How and when did all of this happen?!”

You couldn't blame them for their curiosity. It seemed like just yesterday that you had kidnapped Seungcheol off the street instead of his friend Mingyu, which resulted in Jeonghan gaining the perfect opportunity to bully you both half to death. And let's not forget the hell and back experience you were subjected to from Seungcheol himself, the man who had once resorted to extreme tactics to get you to quit as he was reminded of the oh so humiliating experience he went through every time he saw your face. But somehow, it all worked out in the end, and you couldn't be happier about how it turned out.

Near the end of your gathering, you couldn't resist the urge to pull out your phone and reveal the most treasured image in your gallery: a photograph capturing two pieces of paper resting on a desk. One paper bore a lengthy paragraph, while the other simply displayed a single, bold sentence:

"Take me out on a proper date first!"

The photo encapsulated perfectly how you both worked so well with each other. It was a sweet reminder of how unexpectedly love can bloom in the most unconventional of circumstances.

As your friends marveled at the photo, you couldn't help but reflect on how far you and Seungcheol had come in such a short time. Despite the initial hurdles and challenges you faced with the man, you were grateful for the bond you now shared—a relationship built on laughter, friendship, and, of course, a bit of unexpected romance.

The end hope you like it !!

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eruden-writes · 4 months ago

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Intentions - Part 1 (alien x human)

Summary: In the future, humans are nearly universal surrogates and Earth has taken to profiting off the ability. However, while humans can intermix with aliens, it doesn't mean it's without complications.

When Taliyra signed up to be a Companion to an alien, she had expectations. Mainly a lot of sex in an attempt to conceive an alien baby. What she didn't expect was her counterpart to be so distant and - for lack of a better term - relatively hands off. For all intents and purposes, Khravel seems completely disinterested in her and will not hold a discussion to explain why.

After four months of this behavior, she's had enough. Confronting Khravel, she gives him an ultimatum: either he sits down and talks with her about what the problem is or she's going back to Proxypanion and requesting a transfer.

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Next - Master List

Night had fallen on the planet Tivik-4 and, with it, a knot of apprehension rose in Taliyra’s throat. She waited in her quarters for Khravel to show his face, even though his appearances were sporadic at best. The uncertainty, the waiting, made her skin itch with nerves. In the early days, she had found it difficult to sit still when evening fell. Now, she forced herself to remain seated in her chair, focused on her reading tablet.

It was these moments when her comfortable room felt so large, so empty. It was like any other personal chambers in the building, from what Taliyra had seen of other people’s living spaces. Though there was an office wing, where Khravel and his colleagues did most of their work, from what she could tell.

Her quarters had a sitting room for entertaining, decked out with sofa and chairs. A large screen overset in a false fireplace. A guest bathroom and kitchenette led off from the sitting area and, opposite those, the door to her room. Opposite the entryway, a sliding door led to a balcony that oversaw a park. During the day, the park was full of Tivikonians, a variety of immigrated aliens, and Terrans. At this time of night, with the sun setting and darkness encroaching over the red-orange trees, very few dallied at the park.

When she accepted a role as a contracted companion, she thought every night would be a sex marathon. Not hours of waiting to see if her alien counterpart would even show up. Khravel was a high-ranking official among his people. Taliyra even being there was meant to convince other Tivikonians to take on Terran Companions in an effort to aid a flagging population.

Due to his social importance, he was very, very busy. Or so he had told her repeatedly.

Not that she was looking forward to being used over and over in an attempt to create an alien baby, of course. Working with the ProxyPanion company had been a last resort to get out of debt. However, four months of basically being ignored was wearing on her pride. Plus, if she did end up clinching the deal and ending up pregnant, the bonus would pay for all her family’s debt. Her parents, her grandparents, her siblings, and more. While the possibility of Tivikonians and Terrans having a successful reproduction was low – the reason for the huge bonus if Taliyra managed it – her odds were even lower if Khravel rarely came around.

Despite the inconsistent interactions between herself and Khravel, she still dressed for the part. Which meant a lot of flowing, easy to move, gauzy fabric and no underwear. It had been difficult to get used to the semi-transparent clothes. She was a larger woman than the average Terran, so she had much more skin to account for. But being on Tivik, where many humans and Tivikonians alike wore this gauzy fabric, had made her grow accustomed to the fashion choice. No one seemed to care what she or anyone else had on display, anyhow. Not that she was large among the aliens.

She still wore a bra, keeping her ample bosom secured if high on her chest, and underthings when out in public. Though she’d seen others, Terran and Tivikonian, wear nothing under the semi-sheer fabric.

A chime echoed through her room, drawing her gaze from the tablet she had barely been reading for the last twenty minutes. Setting the screen aside, she got to her feet and went to the door. Pressing her hand to the panel, it slid open, revealing Khravel.

As far as extraterrestrials were concerned, Khravel was not far from humanoid in a Biblically accurate being sort of way. Smooth face, almost akin to a mask, given texture by striating lines that fanned from his eyes. Taliyra had learned to read the expression in the striations that fanned out from his eyes. The lines weren’t too dissimilar from human eyebrows. Four red eyes, two on each side. A wide mouth that cut like a crevice along the lower half of his face and a dark line that split from his lower ‘lip’ down his throat. Thick flat horns sprouted out from the sides and crown of his head, white fading to red.

Unlike many other Tivikonians, he wore opaque and dark clothes. He wore the seemingly space-mandatory bodysuits, with a sleeveless jacket cinched at his waist. The boots he wore went to his knees but would have easily engulfed Taliyra’s leg up to the highest point of her thigh. Taller than any other Tivikonian that Taliyra had seen, he was not the bulkiest. Though that wasn’t saying much to human notions of large, with his towering nine foot height and four dreadfully well-shaped arms. Well-shaped arms that ended in enticing hands with five elegant long fingers. Taliyra often caught herself staring at those broad hands.

“Ah, you’re still awake.” He sounded disappointed, red eyes crinkled at the corners in an expression Taliyra had come to consider a wince.

Khravel would not deny he struggled around the woman. She was larger than his last human Companion, which was a relief. Humans were notoriously frail. But it made him want to touch her all the more. Run his hands over those plush curves, watch as her skin dipped to his touch. Even her face was round and, when she smiled – a rare occasion when he was present – little dips formed at the corners of her lips. Dimples, he’d been told they were called.

Tonight, she was dressed in a gauzy gown sans underthings with her dark hair pulled into a bun atop her head. Khravel focused on her face, rather than letting his gaze dip over the rolling hills of her body, her dusky nipples, the swell of her breasts, her hips, her stomach. Her nightly fashion starkly contrasted to the outfits she styled for day-time use. She’d it was to make the process easier when he visited at night. Less clothing made getting to the sex simpler.

The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. As if she wanted to get the ordeal over with and get on with her day or night.

Taliyra swallowed down the ping of pain his words sent through her by leaning against the door frame and crossing her arms. “Yep, still awake.”

The two stood there, staring at each other as the tension in the air climbed higher. Khravel’s hands flexed at his sides. A common tic she’d notice whenever he was thinking. Was he trying to come up with an excuse to leave? Probably.

Khravel sifted through the reasons to leave. He did have paperwork to finish up and an agreement to review. The budget needed tweaking, as well, to move some funds to the disaster relief efforts in the East hemisphere. He couldn’t bring himself to mention any of those things now, though. Not with Taliyra’s dark eyes watching him, not with her scent wafting from her quarters.

“Well, let’s get on with it,” he finally said, after being unable to come up with a reason to leave. The nerves under his skin felt buzzy and agitated, but he clamped down on the sensation. He was going to be careful, as he always was with Taliyra.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” she sighed, not moving from her position in the door. She’d rather he not even make an appearance if he was going to act so unwilling. It wasn’t as if he was the one contracted out, after all.

Kharvel inclined his head, a stillness overtaking his posture. “Do you not want to do this?”

A flare of heat burst up her spine, her cheeks reddening. This was her job! It wasn’t a matter of ‘want’ for her. She had to perform to a certain degree to be compensated. Though she had wanted more from Khravel. Something more… satisfying than what he gave her during these nights. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then…” He made a motion with his hand, indicating the bedroom. That awkward stillness still cramped up his motions as he watched the Terran woman carefully.

Taliyra’s lips thinned, her eyes flicking from the bedroom to Kharvel. She gave him one last chance to bow out and forget this meeting even happened. He merely stood, waiting for her to move. He could have easily shoved her away or even picked her up, but he didn’t. In fact, he rarely touched her and when he did, it was the briefest of contact.

The knot in her throat hadn’t dissipated with his presence. It just grew. She ignored the sensation as she stepped back, motioning for Khravel to enter. His boots clacked on the floor as he crossed the threshold. The door hissed shut behind him and, once more, the two stared at each other.

Taliyra was the first to turn away and head for her bedroom. After a breath, she heard Kharvel follow, his feet dragging. She wished he wouldn’t act like a man headed to the gallows.

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Next - Master List

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totothewolff · 1 year ago

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Grand Prix Elite Academy (2/10)

+18 | professor!Toto x reader fem!student, sewis, carlos x reader, collegue au | romance, smut, comedy, gossip, betray

Summary: Your life turns 180 degrees after receiving your acceptance letter for the Grand Prix Elite Academy, the most exclusive and prestigious Formula One College, designed to shape the future drivers of the motorsport world. You will try to navigate your new life among the Monaco elites, survive the campus dynamics and rivalries between the faculties, and try to win this year's Elite Cup to beat an undefeated Mercedes, all while befriending your eclectic classmates, join the wild parties, have a couple of make-outs under the racing circuit benches, lose your v-card and get over that stupid crush you have on professor Toto. Will you make it alive to graduation? Race to Greatness! Author's note: This is a Formula One college AU fic set in an elite academy in Monaco, where the F1 Teams are Faculties, their Team Principals are professors, the FIA is the college board, and all the grid drivers are your classmates. You are accepted under a scholarship program called WomenOne and have lots to catch on to after years of putting your racing dreams on hold. Becoming the outcast new girl is always challenging, especially when all of you live on one campus.

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Chapter 2: Gone with the Wolff

The sun starts to ascent over Monaco's luxurious skyline in the early hours of the day, casting a golden glow over the buildings.

As you go through the security checkpoint at the campus gates, you feel an intoxicating mix of nerves and excitement brewing in you. Besides feeling like an alien, being the only one there arriving on foot as you watch the endless line of expensive sports cars and SUVs with chauffeurs drive past you and the parking gate.

Today marks the beginning of your journey at the Grand Prix Elite Academy, a heaven where speed and ambition merge.

—You got clearance, miss Y/LN —the muscular security man tells you; stepping out of the security booth, he has a cold and formal attitude and way of speaking. —They need you at the Student Affairs offices. It's on the first floor in the main building —he points towards the large facility down the entrance road. —You need to wear this at all times, no excuses, till your new ID and student badge are ready —he instructs you, handing you a metallic purple "visitor" access badge.

—Oh, thank you.

Stepping for the first time onto the campus grounds, you can't help but feel in awe by the magnificence surrounding you as you pay attention to all the details.

The buildings' architecture combines Monaco's classical style blend with modern facades full of massive glass walls facing the different gardens.

There are many lanes for pedestrians, bicycles, and electric scooters. Beautiful palm trees, flowers, and acres of perfectly maintained green grass complete the view.

The campus is full of energy and student life. People read and work on their computers and tablets in the different sitting areas, which are filled with picnic tables and expensive outdoor furniture. Others lie on the grass, chat in groups, or walk fast to somewhere. People get in and out of the buildings, and many line up in the Starbucks inside campus.

—Y/N! Carlos calls your name from a step on the main building's ample stairs, sitting beside Esteban. Judging by all the students sitting on them, the stairs look like a popular gathering spot.

You start walking on their way while Carlos rushes down to welcome you with a hug, his prince-charming hair flowing in the wind as he reaches you. You two became good friends after spending the Homecoming Gala dancing your asses off and partying with the rest of the group.

—Are you an early bird, too? —you ask him as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells sweet and floral.

—Not really! Mattia scheduled our faculty meeting in the auditorium at 7 a.m. That Italian is insane! I swear he is constantly testing our sanity, so if you pick "Motor Vehicle Engineering" as a subject, expect those kinds of tricks from him.

That explains why almost everyone on campus right now is wearing red. —How did it go? They didn't ask for my assistance, so I guess I can cross Ferrari off my list —you ask.

—The usual "Winning can't wait! Blah blah, we need to defeat Mercedes, blah blah, I'm not accepting B grades, no exceptions blah blah" sabes? Well, you don't, actually; you are new, haha —he answers, a bit bored.

You laugh at his faux Italian accent as he makes his best Mattia impression. —Very Mario Bros of you. —You joke with him while admiring his expensive-looking Ferrari uniform, a crisp red blazer perfectly tailored to accentuate his fit silhouette, with Ferrari's insignia delicately embroidered on the breast pocket.

Complementing his blazer is a classic white shirt crafted from the finest cotton. Carlos' trousers, also tailored from a deep grey fabric, are paired with Italian leather brogue shoes.

"Gosh, he is so handsome!" You think.

—Still no news, cierto? —he asks you, glancing you down. He notices you are wearing the grey faculty-less, GPEA rookie uniform, as most newbies are.

—No! —you pout. —Have you heard something? The red uniform sure looks beautiful.

—I could ask around; maybe Sebastian can give us info; he is in Student Affairs this year!

—Oh, great! I will ask him myself. I'm about to meet him there. I have to pick up my badge, sign lots of stuff, and get my dorm access.

—This is my number —Carlos bumps his phone with yours. —Text me when you learn who your roommate is! I will give you the receipts and tea.

—Oh! Thanks! Let's hope for the best!

As you make your way inside the main building to the administration floor, you admire the elegant blend of class and innovation.

The hallways hum with the chatter of fellow students, their gossip muffled by the occasional roar of a passing racing car on the nearby track, where free practices occur. That sound makes your blood rush.

Once you arrive at your destination, you knock on the glass doors, which is a bit dumb because they can see you before you step in.

The staff points you to a cubicle, where you find Sebastian Vettel sleeping in his office chair under an Aston Martin jacket. The room's air conditioning makes it feel like a freezer.

You pinch him on the ribs, teasing and waking him, making Seb jump, you little shit!

—Oh, you made it here! Hi! —his kind smile greets you.

—Hi, lazy ass! Ow, did I wake you? —you joke.

—Where is your sorority? We sisters must stand together. Seb gets on his feet and goes to find your badge inside a giant blue plastic container with tons of those. —I also need to take your biometrics, but you must read and sign these first. It's for the use of personal data, etc.

—Sure —you answer as he prints the papers and hands them to you.

—Take your time—he drops himself back on the chair and slides near you.—Did Lewis give you rookies the campus tour yet?

You deny shaking your head.

—Oh! That man! —Seb rubs his forehead, exasperated. —I love him, but he drives me crazy sometimes —Vettel picks up his radio and tries to reach him. —For sure, Carl is still at the gym instead of doing his job! I desperately need to hire him an assistant, he almost forgot his mom's birthday the other day. Thank God I bought her the present in advance! —Seb pushes the signal button once more, waiting for Lewis to pick it up, and he turns to whisper to you. —I heard the new trainer is fucking hot —Vettel raises his eyebrows up and down suggestively several times while grinning.

A couple of beeps come before he starts speaking. —You are still at the gym, aren't you?

Lewis's distorted voice comes through the radio. —Yes, I told you I'm trying this new workout for you, remember? Longer, more lifting required, less cardio. Our hardcore sessions are working wonderfully, my love. Didn't you tell me you love my muscles as much as you love my coc…

—Woa, woa, Y/N is here; she is listening! —Seb quickly interrupts him, and you start to laugh.

—Sorry about that —Seb tells you, a bit red.

—No worries! I feel a little jealous, tho. I wish I had someone; you guys seem very in love.

—You will soon! This place is full of hot and horny people and too many parties and alcohol. Oh! In my good ol' slut days, I used to hook up a lot and be given blowjobs under the benches at the racing circuit.

—I'm still here! —Lewis interrupts, quite amused.

—Lewis, please hurry! This place is enormous, and I have no idea where anything is! I need to pee! Where are the bathrooms?! —you talk to him on the radio before Seb takes your fingerprints.

Your orientation activities begin half an hour later.

Lewis shows up and gathers you rookies in the main lobby, where the collection of trophies and awards of the Academy are displayed in a fancy museum way, as he welcomes you and tells you about the campus and the glorious history of this institution.

You are not surprised to see only ten new students beside you. This place's tuition is so fucking expensive, and it's a niche business.

Soon, you discover that only some people want to become racing drivers; the rest want to be part of the motorsports world and teams. The GPEA curriculum is so vast that it covers everything from team management, aerodynamics, engineering, sports marketing, finances, and more.

Lewis takes you all on tour, on foot, where you dazzle at the display of facilities, from the incredibly modern library, full of study stations, desks, and immersive display computers, to the massive sports center, the place where future champions are getting in shape, it looks like the Olympics inside there; it's a state of the art huge physical training center with the newest and most tech pieces of equipment as well as an extensive swimming pool and a complete wellness center with an upscale spa, massages and sauna included.

Almost all classrooms have ocean views, luxurious and comfy seating, ample desks, and smart boards; everything looks pristine, trendy, and bright.

But the lab! Oh! The lab! It's a wet dream! It's full of the highest-tech simulators, which are to die for. It's the most immersive and authentic experience you've ever seen.

The cafeteria has become your second favorite place. It's the most fabulous room, full of culinary experiences and areas. It's enormous, with high-end restaurants, many to-go options, and several bars serving vegetarian food and healthy snacks.

There is even a juice therapy concept zone that looks interesting!

The nap pods, comfy puffs, slides, lounge areas, and lots of art installations make it an eclectic and chic place.

You also visit the race circuit, garages, and the Mechanics building, where you feel at home. This hallowed ground is where legends are born.

You stand amidst the sleek machines, their vibrant colors and flawless designs are testaments to the craftsmanship and skill that define the racing world.

In that moment, you sense a deep connection forming, a kinship with the machines that would become your companions on this exhilarating journey.

You wish Lewis would let you spend more time there, but he takes you to the dorm buildings, which are basically 5-star hotels.

Your "shared rooms" are bigger than your house. You would describe them as luxurious apartments for two.

The dorm buildings are next to "the social hub," a compound of several establishments (bars, restaurants, and a social club, obviously) located near the marina and harbor. Yatch culture is big there, too!

As Lewis wraps his speech once back in the main lobby, Horner reaches him, whispering something to his ear, patting his shoulder, and then walking towards you.

Your hands shake slightly as he politely lets you know Red Bull is not the faculty for you.

A bit bummed out, you take the elevator up to the last floor, where the main lecture hall is. It's the largest one, and it is reserved for subjects that students of different years and careers share.

It's your first class of the day, and you are in awe of the panoramic view that greets you as you step in. To your left is a sweeping vista of the sprawling race track at a distance, impeccably maintained and stretching toward the horizon. You observe it through the floor-to-ceiling clear crystal panel windows.

As you settle into your first lecture on "Electrical Engineering," conversations flow effortlessly, fueling your collective enthusiasm and igniting friendships as Professor Otmar delivers an exciting class.

Almost by the end of the class, your phone buzzes on your desk as you write memos on your iPad; Leandra texts you to meet them at the "Turn 17 Lounge" in the marina after classes.

Soon, you find yourself surrounded by laughter and the clinking of glasses inside the vibrant, contemporary lounge. It's packed since most students finished their schedules, and it's the first day back.

You sit in the pricey furniture beside your new friends near the chic bar area while enjoying the panoramic waterfront views.

The place's ambiance is lively and energetic. A trendy playlist sounds in the background as you are handed a menu with a range of innovative and Instagram-worthy cocktails and appetizers.

You look at them, shocked at the prices and amused at the pompous names, and resign yourself to ordering just a Coke with ice or a Coke on the rocks, according to the carte.

You find out the lounge hosts themed events, live music nights, and interactive experiences to cater to the preferences and desires of the student crowds.

—What up, babe?! —Leandra greets you. She is wearing her faculty activewear. Her gym shirt is crafted from breathable red fabric, showcasing sleek black accents, while the Scuderia Ferrari emblem is proudly displayed on her chest. Her gym shorts are designed for optimal movement and feature a mix of black and red detailing. —I don't feel my legs, not in the sense I would like!

You laugh at her comment.

—Pippa Gasly, Y/N —She introduces you two. A cute blue-eyed French girl waves her hand at you sitting across the coffee table; she is Yuki's girlfriend; you witnessed them devouring each other at the Gala. —The new coach is so fucking hot; the rumors are true, I stretched way too sluty for him during his training, and he stared me down. Should I give him a private tour of the dock area? —Leandra gossips you two.

—The dockyard has a very secluded lighthouse. It's the perfect spot to discreetly fuck or hook up with someone if you don't want the entire campus to find out —Pippa explains.

—I heard it was under the benches —you add.

—Not anymore. Security parol those now. Thank you, Lando!

—I'm proud of my legacy! —he and Max join you.

—I fucked a very loud girl in there and got caught by security —he admits to you, shrugging his shoulders. —Massi made me publicly apologize in the commencement speech that year. Can you believe it?! Far worse things have happened, and he didn't even bathe an eye then! But he made an example out of me. But, in the end, he knew he needed my parents' money and donations, so he stayed in his lane.

—Where the fuck is Charles?! —Max addresses Leandra, looking a bit concerned. —He is not answering my DMs.

—Still with his grandpa, he will arrive soon; all his things arrived at our dorm today.

—Talking about that, I have a roommate! —you notify the group, and all eyes set on you.

—WHO?! —everyone asks at the same time.

—It's a girl, thank God, her name is Naya Lauda.

Their eyebrows go to the roof. Lando's face is a poem.

You look at them, feeling now concerned. —What?! You guys, WHAT?!

—This is about to get awkward —Lando speaks while sipping his beer. —She is a persona non grata.

—Don't mention it to Lewis —Pippa advices you.

You look at Leandra with a "please explain!" face. —Naya is best friends with Nico Rosberg; he is the mean girl of this school, a total douch, and also Lewis' ex; those two were THE thing back in the day, the most popular and prodigy couple on campus, but in reality, they were highly toxic and harmful to each other —many nods come in response as she explains.

—All this before Lewis came to his senses! —Pippa adds.

—He changed a lot for the better once he started dating lovely Sebastian and split from those two —Leandra resumes explaining. —Naya took Nico's side on the divorce, annihilating his friendship with Lewis in the process.

Lando then interrupts to give you more input. —To Toto's displeasure, the whole thing fractured Mercedes' unstoppable all-star team! The three of them used to be inseparable and insufferable.

—Yeah, they only talked to each other and pushed away anyone who tried to get close or be friendly with them. Including old friends —Max joins the explanation.

—Talking of which… —Pippa adds.

—Oh yeah, I forgot about the Toto thing —Lando mentions.

—Naya is also Toto's protege; she is exceptionally talented, intelligent, and top of the class… —Max says.

—And fucking hot —Leandra admits.

—And..? —you instantly ask, sensing there is more.

The group exchanges a couple of looks.

—There was a rumor. Leandra brushes your arm. —But it's just a rumor; nothing has ever been proven.

—That Naya was the reason why the Wolffs split. Those two have a weird dynamic, to be honest —Pippa finishes. —She is a bit possessive of him, and seeing them by their side on and off campus is usual.

—They go everywhere together —Leandra bluntly corrects.

—Also, Max has been in love with Naya since childhood. He used to gift her bouquets after every karting race, always cheer for her at the benches, and even let her win while driving against each other, which in Max's language is a "Will you marry me?" —Lando declares, and Max huffs. —Don't pretend you don't!

—Fine! YES! I did, but that was in the past.

Oh boy.

After taking a relaxing bath and washing away all the nerves and stress of your first day, you get comfortable on the cozy sofa in your dorm's living room. On your way there, you grab a bag of chips and place your laptop on your legs. You are wearing the GPEA oversized T-shirt, tiny shorts, and your hair wrapped in a towel, thinking you are there alone.

—Filling up your schedule? Choosing your core classes? —you hear a velvet voice behind you, making you jump a little.

—Yes, any suggestions or tips? —Naya gets closer to peek at your screen. She is a gazelle, a very sexy and gorgeous girl who exudes confidence and grace in her every movement.

Her magnetic gray eyes capture, and her great posture commands attention effortlessly, while her impeccable style embodies sensuality and elegance, provoking an unforgettable impression on anyone who crosses her path.

You get why she got Toto's attention; you feel like a troll beside her. Until now, Naya seems kind and polite but not very social or talkative.

—"Aerodynamics I," "Thermodynamics I," and "Materials Science" are perfect for your entry-level. "Mechanics II" is quite advanced, are you sure? —Naya tells you, and you nod. —Your optional elective classes, "Data Science" and "Strategy and Leadership," are both hard to get into, especially Torger's!

—Wish me the best, then! —you say as you hit the submit button.

—How on earth did you get accepted into Toto's class?! —Sebs looks impressed as you two finish breakfast at the cafeteria while he reads your assigned schedule, giving it the heads up!

You feel slightly cocky and proud of the accomplishment.

Then Seb glances at his smartwatch. —Better be leaving, Y/N! You don't want to be a second late for it. Toto is extremely picky; he got Lance expelled from the subject for being two minutes late once. Forget about missing class or not delivering a report!

—Oh shit! —your eyes go wide as you grab your things and rush there.

You walk inside the luxurious lecture hall on time and out of breath; for sure, your hair looks like shit now.

For obvious reasons, you tried your best to put on a decent-looking outfit and even makeup, which you aren't a fan of, lol girl, as he will notice you, let's say you aren't the most stereotypically called "girlie girl," lacking the mom's touch and being raised among mechanics, not to mention that all beauty products are damn expensive.

This hall is entirely different from the one at the top of the building. It is smaller and intimate but way fancier, with opulence and functionality blending seamlessly.

The hall boasts plush, leather-upholstered seats with individual desks, offering maximum comfort to each student.

The walls are modern and sleek, and large screens display live feeds of races and analyses with cutting-edge audiovisual equipment and an advanced sound system that provides an immersive learning experience.

The spacious layout ensures an unobstructed view of the front podium, where Professor Toto is about to impart his class. He looks crazy hot in that white fitted rolled-up sleeve shirt and tight beige pants, which he is wearing while adjusting his earset microphone.

Toto starts his class by presenting a rather complex and compelling study case, grabbing the attention of the small group in just a couple of minutes.

—You must solve the problem, minimize the impact, and land the new course of action —he explains, walking around the room. —In real life, you would only have a couple of minutes to discuss with the entire team and command the driver to follow the needed change in strategy. There's no safety net. How would you solve it? Let's start with you, Mr. Rosberg.

You all give different input until a proper answer is formed, and then Toto moves to theory.

You try your best to concentrate and absorb the knowledge he is sharing and not get lost on his attractive backside, that back, those shoulders, and veins.

While you pick up your things as the class is dismissed, you catch his gaze set on you.

—Miss, Y/N —fuck, your name sounds hot in his mouth. —You are so tempting —your mind goes to another place while he bends in front of your seat, forearms on the wood surface, his muscular arms flexed, leaning closer to you over the desk. —You had the most impressive start! You can be an exciting addition to our faculty, but I need you to answer some questions first. Could you join me at the campus bistro on Thursday?

—Oh, y-yes —you barely answer.

—Good, see you there at 7 p.m —he smiles at you and exits.

WHAT?!!

Since your arrival at the Grand Prix Elite Academy, the excitement of the first days had begun to dull into the routine of classes, homework, and training sessions.

As you step in, the bistro buzzes with chatter and laughter, and the scent of freshly prepared meals fills the air. Amidst the chaos, you spot Toto sitting alone at a table.

He is wearing a navy blue blazer that perfectly hugs his lean frame and a crisp white shirt neatly tucked into matching slacks.

He gets on his feet to greet you as you reach the table and waits for you to sit; he is a total gentleman. He orders two glasses of sparkling water as he hands you the menu.

—Let's start with some appetizers, shall we? —he suggests, smiling. —There's a delicious caprese salad, and the fish cakes are to die for.

You inspect the menu, scanning the unfamiliar dishes listed. Most of them are exotic delicacies, some requiring ingredients sourced only from the farthest reaches of the globe. But that's part of the charm of attending such an exclusive institution: the exposure to cultures and experiences vastly different from yours.

—Caprese salad sounds perfect —you decide, handing the menu back to Toto. He nods approvingly and waves down a passing waiter.

—Two caprese salads, please —he instructs. —And bring us some bread, too. Oh, and a bottle of that Pinot Grigio, would you?

You study Toto closely as you wait for your food. He is commanding, yet his mannerisms hint at a softer side. When he speaks, his timbre is soothing, and his choice of words is deliberate.

He has something magnetic, a quality that draws people in, regardless of how guarded he initially appears. You listen to him intensely as he shares anecdotes about his racing career and the highs and lows he has encountered along the way.

His contagious laugh echoes in the dimly lit restaurant. It's almost disarming, making you forget the nervous tension that had built up inside you.

He glances at you occasionally, his eyes dancing with mischief. You can sometimes sense his interest, a silent invitation to reveal more about yourself.

Yet, you remain cautious, guarding your vulnerability under layers of carefully chosen words. In return, Toto offers tantalizing tidbits about his life and motivations.

—So, Y/N, tell me about yourself —Toto asks gently as the waiter places your dishes on the table. A fragrant medley of tomatoes, basil, and fresh mozzarella floats upwards, causing your stomach to rumble audibly.

Toto smiles knowingly, motioning for you to dig in. The juicy tomatoes burst with sweetness, harmoniously mingling with the creamy cheese. Each rich mouthful sends shivers down your spine like the flavors are awakening sensations long buried beneath your consciousness.

—Where did your love for racing originate? —Toto starts between bites.

—Well, it started when I was barely four years old. My father watches Grand Prix races religiously, and eventually, I joined him. We'd sit together on the couch, our hearts pounding in sync and in awe, as the drivers navigated tight bends and straights; that's when I fell in love with the sport, the thrill of watching them push their limits, the suspense of waiting for the checkered flag to wave.

—Sweet —Toto responds. —It's incredible how the love for racing can manifest itself in someone so young —He pauses, reaching for your glasses of wine and offering you a sip. You gladly accept, relishing the crisp taste of the pinot grigio as it slides smoothly down your throat. You could feel the warmth spreading through your body, melting away the nerves.

—Do you have a favorite driver? —Toto asks, swirling the contents of his glass thoughtfully.

—My favorite driver is Senna. I admire his raw talent and aggressive driving style. His determination to win is inspiring and captivating.

Toto raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your answer. —Ah, Senna, quite a classic —he echoes, giving a knowing nod. —He's certainly an interesting character; he's got the guts and skill to make a lasting impression. His smooth driving style and natural grace make him stand out in a generation of aggressive competitors. You're a traditionalist, aren't you? You appreciate the artistry and elegance of the sport.

—Yes —you admit.

—Senna embodies the essence of racing, displaying a combination of raw talent and refined technique. He was an extraordinary driver —you add.

—A true gentleman on and off the track —Toto concludes.

Your conversation flows effortlessly, weaving in and out of topics ranging from the intricacies of car engineering to the nuances of team dynamics. Toto's insights and expertise are fascinating and provide valuable perspectives.

As you listen attentively, you notice the subtle change in Toto's demeanor; his posture becomes more relaxed. Yet, you can't shake off the feeling that Toto is deliberately testing you.

—So, Y/N, why suddendly quit? —he leans closer, truly curious. —Why stop such a promising career so suddenly?

—My mom's sickness and, after her passing, a lot of debt. I'm here on a scholarship. I'm not wealthy.

—I see. And were there no other options for you to be able to continue?

—Well, I don't know. I felt lost for a while; depressed is the word, so yeah, I stopped racing.

—I see. How has your experience at the Academy been thus far? —Toto switches topics; a twinkle in his eye suggests that he already knows the answer to his question.

—I must say, things here are pretty competitive —you admit, after a brief pause. —Everyone seems driven by ambition, constantly seeking to prove themselves. It's an environment that demands excellence.

Toto nods. —Indeed, the Academy is known for fostering a culture of competitiveness and exceptionalism.

—I feel overwhelmed by the pressure to perform and excel. It feels like everyone around me is doing everything possible to reach the top —you add, with a hint of concern creeping into your voice.

Toto leans back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. You can't help peeking at his biceps. —Well, that's precisely the nature of this place, Y/N. The environment is designed to challenge you in a way you don't think possible. After all, the ultimate goal here is to nurture champions. To achieve that, we need to create a breeding ground for fierce competition. It's crucial to foster resilience and adaptability in our students.

—I feel privileged to be here —you add honestly and smilingly.

Toto pauses to take a sip of his wine. —We all want you to succeed, but you must realize it takes a village to raise a champion.

—Yes, I agree —you reply, shifting in your seat. Despite Toto's reputation as a tough-as-nails professor, he exudes a calm demeanor.

—So, have you considered your goals for this term? —he asks you.

—I've been thinking about improving my handling of high-speed situations and refining my understanding of aerodynamics. I'd also like to enhance my ability to work effectively under pressure.

Toto's eyes widened. —Those are ambitious goals. We have some excellent resources at the Academy to help you achieve these objectives. I highly recommend you check out the advanced simulations. Not only does it teach you how to handle extreme speed, but it also gives you a safe space to experiment with your techniques.

—Thank you! Your advice means a lot to me.

—No problem, he replies. —Don't hesitate to ask if you ever need assistance. I believe in your potential, and I'm confident you'll achieve great things here at the Academy, but not with Mercedes; our faculty requires a different mindset to accept you.

—A different mindset?

—Yes, you don't have the mindset we are looking for. You gave up your dream too quickly. Quitting is not a trait at Mercedes; we believe there is always another option or way to achieve a goal. You appear to be drawn to a more traditional approach, and we are trying to innovate and push forward the sport. You struggle with pressure, and this is an environment full of it. Your starting point is behind the other rookies for the hiatus you experienced. If you don't perform well, there is also the high risk of losing your scholarship, and our investment in you goes nowhere —Toto answers, shifting his attitude from the charming "I'm your friend" facade to the version of him everyone told you about.

He was paying attention to your every word, wasn't he?

—You have a bright future ahead of you. I will be thrilled to witness your progress, Toto says, draining the last drops of wine from his glass and gently setting it down on the table. —Don't get me wrong; I wish you the best —he adds, feeling the conversation is over and preparing to leave.

Of course, this meeting was pure business; what were you expecting? Not to be judged and scrutinized? To make a friend?

—Losing a parent is not easy —you add, getting on your nerves at the lack of empathy.

—It's also not an excuse. In this career, you will face many adversities and problems. You are not the first or last driver to lose a family member. You are still spineless and lack emotional intelligence.

—You don't know me.

—You aren't that difficult to read. Just a simple and honest conversation like this is getting under your skin. I'm hardly ever wrong.

—I have proven wrong your kind before.

—My kind?

—Judgmental and entitled rich men with big opinions.

—Holy shit! You didn't call Toto THAT! —Leandra almost spits her orange juice the following morning as you two settle down on the grass beside Carlos. You lean on his shoulder while he gives you soft pats on your back, comforting you. —Bitch, you play no games, huh?

You shrug, a bit sad. That introduction with Toto went sour.

—Sharl is here! —Carlos says, looking to your left.

You see Leclerc jogging towards you.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; let me know! Merry Christmas, Wolffies!

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

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kuzann · 1 year ago

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Escape from the Holidays

My Holiday Truce present for @deuynndoodles! Sam and Tucker get Danny away from the Santa argument for some much-needed relaxation. 💜 Also on Ao3!

Danny trudged his way through the fall season, doing his best to ignore the Christmas merch that was already showing up in stores by Halloween. Holiday creep was annoying in general, but for Danny it acted as an omen of things to come once December rolled around. As the weeks ticked by the knot of stress and anxiety grew in the pit of his stomach; the worst month of the year was approaching and there was nothing he could do about it. He would simply have to endure whatever misery the yearly argument brought just as he did every year.

December 1st arrived. The more restrained organizations of Amity Park at last began to put up their Christmas decorations. FentonWorks lit up in red, white, and green just like the rest of the neighborhood and, like clockwork, the Santa argument began. Danny was long past caring whether Santa Claus was real or not; the only thing that mattered was the fact that the argument made every single December a writhing mass of stress and mess cleanup.

Five days after the start of December he and Jazz sat in the living room after being summoned for a family board game, only for the Santa argument to overshadow everything before the game could even make it out of the box. Jazz hid her face in her newest psychology book while Danny glowered at his parents and wished he’d thought to grab his phone before his dad pestered him into coming downstairs for ‘family time’.

He was just checking his watch for the dozenth time when the front door slammed open. Sam and Tucker hurried into the living room, still breathless from running over. The sudden intrusion put a temporary pause on the argument as the Fentons turned to their new guests.

“Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, there’s a ghost attacking the docks!” Tucker said, still a little breathless from the run as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

“You gotta hurry before he gets away!” Sam added. “He’s trying to steal a bunch of shipping boxes!”

“No ghost is making off with holiday gifts while the Fentons are on the job!” Jack declared as he and Maddie drew their concealed weapons. They barged out the door past Sam and Tucker and out into the snowy night.

“Nothing stops the holiday argument like their mutual hatred of ghosts,” Tucker said with a knowing smile.

“Well, we better get going,” Danny grumbled as he stood. “So who is it this time? It’s the Box Ghost, isn’t it?”

“It is, but he’s not our problem tonight,” Sam said with a proud smile of her own. “Come on, you really think your parents can’t handle the Box Ghost?”

“Well since my mom’s out there I guess I shouldn’t worry...” Danny admitted with a small smile. He was already starting to feel a little better now that he didn’t have to witness the Santa argument. “We do need to figure out something for dinner now, though,” he added as he shared a glance with Jazz.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re coming over to my house and we’re ordering takeout,” Sam said.

“We call it Operation: Get Danny Away from the Stupid Santa Argument,” Tucker added with a grin. “And Jazz too, if she wants to hang out with us.”

“Well given that I’ll be all alone here after you guys leave...” Jazz began. “You’re sure you’re okay with me joining in? I’m not gonna cramp your style or anything?”

“Any Fenton who isn’t part of the Santa argument is welcome in my book,” Danny replied.

~~~

Sam’s parents were surprisingly pleasant when the four of them arrived; Danny was under the impression that they didn’t care for him or his family, and tonight he had the sneaking suspicion that Mrs. Manson was going to rub being a superior parent in his parents’ faces at some point in the near future because of all this. Jazz lingered to give them a full rundown of her college plans when they asked what she was up to as a matter of courtesy, which gave Sam ample opportunity to get her other guests upstairs and into her room without any further delay.

Her room was dimly-lit by warm red string lights she’d added recently. The effect was almost cozy, despite Sam’s likely intent of using them to boost the goth look to her room. It was certainly more calming than the sea of Christmas lights that decorated most of the city. The curtains were already drawn when they arrived, blocking off any view of the city beyond. Closed, comfortable, and warm.

“So what kind of food are we feeling like tonight?” Sam asked once they were safely in her room.

“Something other than pizza,” Danny replied as he flopped down on a massive black bean bag chair. “I think I’ve finally had enough pizza for a little while.”

“I could go for some Thai food,” Tucker added as he dropped onto the oversized bean bag next to Danny.

“I know a great Thai place.” Sam turned to a nearby bookshelf and took a binder labeled ‘Restaurants’ from it, then leafed through until she found the page she wanted. “Here we go,” she said as she took the menu from a sheet protector within.

“So organized,” Tucker said with a chuckle as Sam passed the menu to them.

“Well when you have dietary restrictions it helps to remember the places that can accommodate,” Sam said.

“Smart,” Danny said. He leaned in, bumping shoulders with Tucker as he read the menu as well. “Think I’ll pick the pad thai with chicken.”

“Red curry with beef for me,” Tucker said.

Danny leaned back against the bean bag and closed his eyes as Sam left to ask Jazz what she wanted. It was quiet in Sam’s room—soundproofed to keep her and her parents’ music tastes completely separate, for everyone’s sake—and no holiday music reached them here. He could almost pretend that this was just any other month and that he didn’t have another miserable holiday season to look forward to once he left. The ball of stress that sat sharp and heavy in his chest slowly began to unwind.

His phone buzzed with a received text. Danny opened his eyes and checked it: Valerie had made it to her grandparents’ house and was asking how he was doing. He smiled and texted back: [Glad ur safe. Sam & Tucker rescued me from Santa argument so doing good]

“Val checking in?” Tucker asked.

“Yep, she’s safe at her grandparents’ house,” Danny replied. Worry over Valerie staying safe on the slippery roads had been sitting at the back of his mind ever since she left the previous day, and it was good to have it resolved for now.

Sam returned with Jazz in tow. “Food’s ordered, now we just have to wait.” She strolled over and dropped down onto the unoccupied side of the bean bag. “Did I miss anything?”

“Valerie made it to her grandparents’ house,” Danny replied.

“That’s good. The roads are pretty treacherous this time of year,” Sam said. She stretched, then fell back against the bean bag, bumping shoulders with Danny. “She’ll be here next time we do this.”

“Next time?” Danny raised his eyebrows with the question as he looked at her.

“Yeah we were thinking once a week,” Tucker added. “Maybe more often. Depends on how stressed out you get.” He gave Danny a playful poke on the forehead.

“We couldn’t just sit back and let you be miserable for the whole season,” Sam said. “Besides, it’s nice to get a break from the holiday rush.”

Danny smiled, and he let out a long slow sigh as he sank into the bean bag a little further. “Thanks, guys.” He pulled the two into a hug. “This really means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it, dude,” Tucker said as he and Sam returned the hug. “So what should we do while we wait for the food to get here?”

“I found this card game called Five Crowns recently,” Sam said. “Let’s try it out.”

~~~

The Jacks were wild by the time the food arrived at the front door. Danny and Tucker were almost tied for last place with scores exceeding one hundred points while Jazz sat squarely in the lead with only thirty-five. With two hands to go there was still a chance that Sam could unseat her as the to-be winner, but only time would tell.

Sam brought the food up and the four of them sorted out their meals from the bag. They dug in, chattering all the while about school, video games, movies, future plans. The cards had been laid aside for the moment, to spare them the possibility of getting messy from the food.

Danny forgot the date after a while. It felt like any other night of the year, which was exactly what he needed. He was finally at ease as they set the remnants of dinner aside and picked up their game again.

~~~

Jazz won the game in the end, despite a valiant effort to defeat her on Sam’s part. Danny ended with a ridiculous sum of four hundred and twenty-six points. He didn’t mind. It was the simple act of playing the game that he’d enjoyed, win or lose.

With the game over they set about finding other ways to occupy the time. Sam brought up a new fantasy RPG she’d bought recently and asked if they wanted to do a joint save so they could enjoy the story together.

The three plopped down on the big bean bag chair again with Danny in the middle and took turns on the controller, laughing and riffing on the game’s sillier story beats and praising it for the things it did well. Meanwhile Jazz sat at Sam’s desk with a book open before her, a small smile on her face as she kept half an ear on their fun, chuckling every so often at one of their jokes.

Hours drifted past, carrying them late into the evening, and at last the three began to nod off. Sam and Tucker each rested on one of Danny’s shoulders, the book Sam had been perusing laying open across her lap while Tucker’s PDA had almost slipped out of his hand as he slept.

Once she was sure they were soundly asleep Jazz took a nearby blanket and draped it over the three, gently tucking the edges around them to trap in the warmth. Danny was truly fortunate to have such good friends. Getting him away from holiday stress was exactly what he needed, and with them whisking him away like this every few days he would be able to weather the season much better than he had in previous years.

Jazz tiptoed back to the desk and sat down again. She would wake them in a little while to take Danny home, but for now all she wanted was to let him sleep peacefully for as long as he could.

#Danny Phantom #phandom truce 2023 #DP Events #Phanfic #Danny Fenton #Sam Manson #Tucker Foley #Jazz Fenton #Fluff

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avanatural · 2 years ago

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That Simple

Part 8

Series summary: Beau goes to Y/N, a new friend of his, for some dating advice. Is the charming new Sheriff gonna get the date that he’s hoping for?

Pairing: Beau Arlen x female Reader

Category: Fluff, angst

Word count: 3.3k

Chapter warnings: Guns, graphic descriptions of armed robbery, arguing, cursing

A/N: Welcome to part 8! Thank you to everyone who still joins Beau and Y/N on this journey ❤️ This time, there are not-so-simple bumps in the road. Wanna be added to my Beau tag list? Send me an ask!

Part 7 | Series Masterlist | Beau Arlen Masterlist | Part 9

Main Masterlist

A low hum broke through Y/N’s closed lips. The dark sky above her was glimmering with shiny stars. A checkered woolen blanket was draped over her legs. The fire was crackling before her, tossing dancing shadows across the gravel in the open driveway.

“You cold?”, his deep voice entered her ears over the soft mumbles coming from the speakers.

“No, I’m good.” Y/N bumped her nose into his neck, nuzzling Beau’s hot skin. “Thanks to my human heater.”

He chuckled, making her feel the low rumbling waves of his voice, and clenched his arm around her shoulders. His bearded cheek landed on top of her head, and he shortly closed his eyes, reveling in her warmth.

The two of them were having a movie night outside the Sheriff’s trailer. They were cuddled up on one of his loungers in front of the fire, looking at the screen they’d put up.

While one of the more boring scenes was playing, Beau placed his pointer finger under Y/N’s chin and tipped up her head. He claimed her lips in a slow kiss, making her moan happily into his mouth.

As their tongues mingled, Y/N could taste all her favorite flavors – mint, love, and desire – which made it even harder for her to break their kiss. Reluctantly, with a hand on his chest, she pulled away from her partner.

Beau’s plump lips remained pursed, chasing her mouth with a cute little pout.

Releasing a small giggle, Y/N tugged the blanket off her thighs and threw one of her legs over his waist.

His eyebrows shot up, and he grinned, enjoying the promising turn of events. When she hoisted herself onto his lap, he clasped the back of her neck, thick fingers tangling in her hair.

“Well, hello there,” he husked, staring up at her with pure awe. He was never going to get tired of making out with his divine Goddess. Beau couldn’t imagine a future in which he didn’t worship the ground she walked on.

When he leaned in, his ample lips drawn to her delicate skin, Y/N arched her neck to give him more access. The bristles of his beard scratched the spot beneath her ear, the soft sting soothed by his juicy lips. She was never going to get tired of the love he showered her with.

As she tilted her head, her eyes fluttering, she spotted a gorgeous piece of machinery parked next to Beau’s trailer. She withdrew from his loving kisses to get a closer look, and realized that what had caught her eye was a black motorcycle.

Beau noticed her movements stiffening, and removed his mouth from her neck. His gaze followed hers, only to end up on his precious motorbike. His lips raised in a half-smirk. “You like her?”

“She’s beautiful,” Y/N responded, a grin stretching across her cheeks, “Can we take her for a ride sometime?”

Mesmerized by the glow in her smile, Beau studied her face intently. “I’m ready if you are,” he declared, gentle fingers brushing some hair from her neck.

A cheerful flash of energy made the corners of her mouth wiggle up. “What? Now?”

“Why not?” His jade orbs twinkled, reflecting the fire, taking on a youthful spirit. “Let’s go on an adventure, darlin’.”

Excited laughter gathered in her chest and bounced off of the helmet covering her head. She was free like a bird, her arms slung tightly around Beau’s torso as they rode through the night. On the back of his motorcycle, the wind whipping around her body, Y/N felt like she was taking over the world.

Underneath his helmet, Beau was sporting a grin of his own. So far, he hadn’t gotten much of a chance to explore the surroundings of his new home. And doing it together with Y/N, going on a midnight ride with his new love, her laughter against his back, her arms around his waist – it was a dream come true. They sped away from the sign that said “Welcome to Helena” without a care, chasing freedom.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed when Beau swerved to the left and pulled into the parking lot of a gas station.

As they rolled toward one of the gas pumps, Y/N took a look around the isolated area. A few cars were parked next to the other gas pumps, waiting for their owners to return. It was silent aside from the rumbling of the motorbike’s engine.

Steadying the motorcycle, Beau let Y/N get down first, then swung his leg over the seat and followed suit.

She took off her helmet and removed some hair that was draped across her mouth. “Everything okay?”

“Just gotta get some gas,” he explained, pulling off his own helmet. The smirk on his face was flashing brighter than the lights adorning the gas station. “I didn’t expect to take my girls for a ride today.” His hand gently patted the seat they’d just occupied together.

Bewitched by his smiling face, Y/N got up on the tips of her toes to peck his full lips.

Beau groaned playfully and stole another kiss, and another, making her chuckle softly. After sending a lighthearted wink her way, he finally moved to pump his beloved motorcycle full of gas.

Y/N kept her eyes trained on him, drinking in how his black jacket strained across his broad back, and how flawless his ruffled hair looked under the shop’s neon lights.

Once the motorcycle was good and ready to continue the couple’s love journey, Beau took Y/N’s hand in his. Fingers intertwined, they entered the gas station.

There was a handful of customers strewn across the little shop, a few of them waiting to pay for gas, others gathering some drinks and snacks for themselves.

“You want somethin’ to drink?”, Beau asked his girlfriend, squeezing her hand like he did so very often.

“I’d love a can of Coke.” Y/N returned his sweet gesture, squeezing his large hand before letting go. While Beau approached the fridge to grab some soft drinks, she joined the line leading up to the cash desk.

As she waited, she anticipated going on more motorcycle rides with Beau. She wanted to show him the best places around Helena. Her favorite picnic spot, the best diners, the corny little antique shop, the secret lake that shone beautifully beneath the moonlight.

While Y/N was mentally creating a list of places to explore with Beau, a dark figure lurked around in the parking lot, hiding in plain sight. As the black flickering shadow crept toward the glass door, it caught her attention.

When she turned her head, Y/N spotted a man on the outside. His body was draped in dark clothing. The presence of a stranger wearing black wasn’t all too alarming, much rather, it was the presence of a ski mask on his face that spiked her nerves. An ice-cold shiver creeped up her spine as the man stomped toward the gas station. He looked like he was on a mission. Her intuition made her stomach turn. Run. When he suddenly pulled a handgun from his jacket, about to walk into the shop, the blood froze in her veins. “Oh, fuck,” she exclaimed, alerting the other customers. It was too late to get out of there. For any of them.

Beau, who was in the back of the store, had just stuck his hand into the refrigerator to grab some drinks. He was startled by the alarmed sound of Y/N’s voice and retreated his fingers, letting the refrigerator slam shut. He turned on his heels, his bowlegs soon jogging down the aisle to check on his girl. He rounded the corner just in time to see the man dressed in black walk through the door, gun raised.

Beau didn’t think twice, instantly surging forward, his hands already reaching for Y/N to pull her out of the picture.

The robber, however, aimed his gun at the Sheriff before the latter could get to his girlfriend.

“You stay right where you are, big guy,” the strange man growled. When Beau took another step, still weighing his options, the man angrily raised his voice, “I said STAY BACK!”

The other customers in the store collectively flinched and gasped at the outburst, eyes wide with fear.

The Sheriff lifted his hands obediently and took a step back, even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him to get to Y/N. She was a civilian, and she was standing way too close to the source of threat. Beau needed her to be as far away from the criminal’s radar as only possible.

“You,” the robber addressed the cashier, “Put the money in here.” He tossed a black bag onto the cash desk, his movements quick and jumpy. When the cashier hesitated, he yelled, “Hurry the fuck up!”

“You don’t wanna do this,” Beau spoke up, reclaiming the robber’s attention. He let his instincts guide him. If he could get a good look at the man, perhaps he could figure him out and catch him in the end.

With the robber being distracted, the cashier took his chance and let his twitching finger push the panic button that would alert the police.

To everyone’s dismay, the robber caught the cashier’s hushed movements out of the corner of his eye. “What the fuck did you just do, huh?!” The veins in his neck popped visibly, angry eyes throwing daggers through the slits of his mask. In a rush of fury and desperation, he grabbed one of the customers, bending his arm around their neck and pointing the gun at their head.

Once again, gasps and whimpers echoed through the aisles, flooding the small store with dread.

All at once, Beau’s access to air was cut off. The blood was drained from his face, making him turn pale as a ghost. To his absolute horror, the customer that the criminal had chosen as his hostage was Y/N.

The Sheriff’s heart clenched violently as he watched the expression on his girlfriend’s face transform from scared to horrified. Instant regret thrashed through Beau’s chest. If only he hadn’t stopped at that particular gas station. If only he hadn’t taken Y/N on a motorcycle ride.

“You better put the money in the bag before I blow her FUCKING BRAINS OUT!”, the robber yelled, making Y/N wince in his grip.

The cashier, struck with a strong case of bad conscience, emptied the cash register, throwing bills and coins into the bag as fast as he humanly could.

“The police will be here any minute,” Beau spoke up, slowly raising his hands up higher while he stepped toward the robber.

“No shit, Sherlock!”, the masked man barked, muscles shivering violently at this point.

“Don’t do anything you’re gonna regret,” Beau pressed, taking another cautious step closer, “If you’re quick, you might manage to take the money and take off. But you gotta let her go.” He saw a crack in the robber’s tough act, whose Adam’s apple bobbed with insecurity. Beau prayed that he could get the criminal to give in and let Y/N go. “Listen to me,” the Sheriff spoke through dry lips, “If you let her go, I’ll make sure no one’s gonna come after you.”

Beads of sweat were starting to slide down the robber’s neck. “What, are you a cop or something?”, he snapped.

“Or something,” Beau responded, palms growing clammier as the disguised man tightened his grasp on Y/N, “I’m not from around ‘ere. I don’t know who you are or why you’re doin’ this. And I’m not gonna look into it. You have my word. Just let her go.”

“You think I’m gonna fucking trust you?”, the angry stranger demanded, close to losing control entirely, “You’re just gonna screw me over the second I let go of her!” His voice was trembling just as harshly as the gun that he was pressing against Y/N’s temple.

Now, it was Beau’s turn to break character. He gulped, struck by a lightning bolt of fear, his eyebrows squishing together helplessly. When he looked at his partner, trying to catch her eye, he noticed something on her face, something that overshadowed the fear he’d seen before. He could see some sort of spark, some defiance carved into her heavenly facial features.

For a split second, Y/N looked down, checking out the robber’s stance and his grasp on her.

The Sheriff swallowed his suspicions and shook his head at her. He couldn’t have her doing anything stupid.

But the shake of her boyfriend’s head did little to hold Y/N back. She exhaled the terror that burdened her chest, making room to inhale the steel-like focus that she needed to make her next move.

Then suddenly, just like Beau had taught her, she used her weight to pull the attacker down with her, catching him off-guard. When he bent forward, she took the opportunity to throw back her arm and elbow him in the face. An accidental shot was fired, barely passing Y/N and hitting one of the shelves.

The other customers cried out and flinched, some of them putting their arms around each other for protection.

On impulse, Y/N grabbed the barrel of the gun, but she was unable to drag it out of the robber’s hold. They struggled for a second, until she kicked his knee as hard as she could, making him howl in pain. Finally, she was able to twist the weapon out of his hand.

As soon as she pointed the handgun at the criminal’s head, it was snatched out of her hand. The weapon disappeared from her grasp so suddenly that she winced again. Right in the moment, time seemed to slow down. The reality of what she’d just done, of what she’d just risked, sank in.

When Y/N looked up, Beau was in her line of vision, his tall figure standing next to her, towering over everyone else like a knight in shining armor. His hands were now wrapped around the weapon, holding the robber at gunpoint.

When the Sheriff pushed Y/N behind him with a swipe of his arm, she sighed, letting some adrenaline escape from her body. A sheen of cold sweat covered her skin, and she wrapped her arms around her shivering torso.

“Y/N, what you did back there-“

“Beau, please.” Her feet sent her flying up the porch stairs, trying to flee his imminent lecture.

He followed, hot on her heels with rushed, worried steps. “You could’ve- Do you understand how that could’ve played out?”

Y/N paused in front her door and turned around abruptly, startling Beau. “I understand that better than you think.” For another second, she managed to hold his firm gaze. Then, her façade slipped from her grip, swept away in an almighty river of impending tears. Her lips started to quiver. “I’ve never been in a situation like that before. I just… I just wanted to… live. That’s all I knew.”

He breathed a heartfelt, unsteady sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. His heart was speeding like it was never going to calm down again. “Y/N, if you’re not trained for that kind of situation, you gotta stay put. You can’t just-“

“You trained me, didn’t you?”, she bit back, her voice cracking like little breaches in a porcelain doll’s skin, “You wanted me to be able to protect myself.”

“I wanted you to fight when someone tries to steal your bag,” he said, brows whirling as a familiar wave of anxiety hit him, “Not when someone puts a loaded gun to your head. What if he’d killed you?” He paused and swallowed the ball of racing nerves in his throat. “I can’t lose you," he whispered, no longer trusting his voice to make coherent sounds.

“Can we please not do this again?”, Y/N pleaded, his whispered words going straight over her head. Her vision was teary-eyed enough make Beau blurry in her sight. She tried hastily blinking away the burning droplets of salt. She knew she’d messed up, but she couldn’t take hearing once again how foolish her actions had been. She already knew she what she’d done was idiotic. All she was longing for was to be held, to be told that everything was fine. But it wasn’t.

At this point, Beau’s entire body slowed down. His narrowed eyes unclenched, his forehead relaxed, his two rows of teeth eased up on each other. Up until then, he’d been so tunnel-visioned by his concern that he’d failed to take a look at her. A real look. Finally, he spotted the anguish on her face, the liquid sadness in her gaze, the trembling of her brow. She had just escaped death. She was a mess, understandably. “Y/N…”

She heaved some air into her lungs, her chest taking two little sobbing jumps before she breathed out, “I just wanna go to sleep.” She turned her back and pulled her key from her pocket. Her shaky fingers inserted the key into the lock and opened the front door.

“Y/N…,” he repeated, his own voice now pleading.

But it was too late. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”, she asked, fleetingly meeting his gaze, and averting her eyes just as fast.

Beau could tell it wasn’t really a question she was asking. He’d already been shut out with no way back in. “Yeah,” he croaked, following up the gravelly sound by clearing his throat. He wanted so badly to pull her into his arms, to hug her until the sun rose back up to announce a new, better day. But the soles of his boots were stuck on the floor. His hands were glued to his sides. And thus, he missed his chance.

“Good night, Beau,” her soft voice grazed his ears like an angel’s feather.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

Before long, the door was closed.

Beau remained on her porch for a solid five minutes before he regained his ability to move. His teary gaze alternated between staring out onto the street and back at the front door. He lost count of how many times his fingers reached for the doorbell, feeling the little nub with the blunt tips. But they never dared to apply any pressure, to actually ring the bell. Maybe Carla was right. He was crap at relationships. He’d grown to love Y/N, and he couldn’t bear the thought of pushing her too hard, of hurting her. But that night, he’d messed up. Again.

Caught in a sorrowful trance, the Sheriff staggered down her porch, got back on his motorcycle and drove home.

As Beau lay in bed later on, wide awake despite the early morning hours, his mind couldn’t get any rest.

Turning to his side, he took his phone from the nightstand. He’d grabbed it multiple times already, but he just couldn’t seem to find the right words, typing and erasing messages over and over again. That was, until he typed three simple words. Three simple words that never failed to feel right with Y/N.

I love you.

After sending his message, he sighed and dropped the device back on the little wooden table next to the bed. Emily was avoiding her overprotective dad ever since he’d shown up unannounced at the campsite, and now he’d driven his new girlfriend away, too. All because he was terrified of not being able to protect his loved ones. Of not being in control.

Beau kept tossing and turning for a few minutes, unable to find a comfortable position to sleep in, haunted by his interpersonal failures.

Then, suddenly, his phone dinged. Alerted, his hand shot up and snatched the device form the nightstand. His eager eyes were attacked by the brightness of the screen, but through a squinting gaze, he could clearly make out the words that Y/N had sent him back.

I love you, too. So much.

Beau breathed a sigh of relief so intense that all his emotions came pouring back out. His eyes glimmered with tears, his chest heaved, his face grew hot, and his heart was running a damn marathon along his ribcage.

Y/N loved him.

She didn’t tell him it was over. She didn’t lash out. Her message didn’t give the impression that she was leaving him.

“Thank God,” he whispered into darkness of his empty trailer. The next day, he was going fight tooth and nail for his relationship.

Part 9

Tag list: @spnwoman @waynes-multiverse @akshi8278 @aria725 @deansbbyx @mrsjenniferwinchester @waywardnerd67 @nt-multi-fandom @may85 @mimi-luvzyu @ginabaker1666 @daisythekitty @sarahgracej @jackharlows-world @maggiegirl17 @bellarkeselection @nerdyreaderpapi @lacilou @queensgirl718 @leigh70 @deanswaywardgirl @tmb510 @roseblue373 @iamsapphine @ghostofjoharvelle

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen #beau arlen imagine #big sky imagine #beau x reader #beau x you

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skylarmoon71 · 2 years ago

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Bumblebee (Transformers) - Chapter 2

The week went by without so much as a hitch.

Bumblebee couldn’t complain

Every time he saw your face he could feel his day get better.

Being around you just made him think less about the pain he’d experienced in life and more about a brighter future not just for earth, but for his fellow autobots.

“Bumblebee, have you detected any activity?” Optimus’s question pulled him from his thoughts.

“Not a peep boss.” He spoke through his radio. Optimus nodded, and Lennox stepped forward.

“That’s good news. After last week I think we deserve a break.”

Lennox was right. They’d taken down two rogue Decepticon bots causing havoc in Peru. When they finally returned after the drive, it was a huge relief. While there were still bigger threats out there, they needed to take the win when they could. The sun was beginning to set, and Bumblebee shifted back into the car.

“I’m heading out.” His radio buzzed.

Lennox smirked. “Rushing to get back to your girlfriend.” Another soldier laughed at the statement, and Bee’s radio started to scramble before he finally got the words out.

“She’s not my girlfriend!!” He took off with the screeching of wheels and Lennox simply laughed. It was entertaining to tease the younger bot.

Bumblebee made it back in ample time. The second he was safely parked in Sam’s backyard, he changed. Doing a stretch, he looked down at his very human hands. It would still take a while to get used to that. His eyes moved to the watch on his hand, the glowing light turning back to a solid blue. When Ratchet created the device they all thought it was crazy. A way to fit in with humans.

But the decepticons had pulled it off. So it didn’t seem so far off.

“Sam!!”

Your voice from the other side of the house has Bumblebee smiling. You were already racing to the backyard.

“Guess I timed it perfectly.”

You always came over on the weekend around the same time.

Running, opening the door to the backyard, you lifted your head when you saw him.

“B-Bee.”

You looked a bit nervous now, and he was a bit confused.

“What’s wrong?” He tilted his head cutely, and the color seems to darken on your cheeks. Rather than beat around the bush, you figured it was better to just come out and ask. You fidget with the straps of your bag as he walks closer, waiting for you to speak.

“Umm I was just wondering if y-you know next week is the school dance. I know it’s a bit cheesy. Every year it's just a bunch of kids getting drunk and making out.” You grimace. Why the hell did you have to bring that up?

Bumblebee still looked relatively confused.

“Making out?”

Your blush was possibly the color of cherries. You shook your head.

“N-Nevermind that I was just wondering if you would like to g-go with me? L-Like a date.”

“A date.. Like what Mikaela and Sam do.”

His spark throbbed in his chest, and he had to hold himself back from reacting too strongly and triggering a transformation.

“I’d love to! A date!!”

You were surprised at how excited he seemed at the idea. Before you could say much he moved over lifting you into the air. You squeak, and he was wearing a bright smile.

“I can’t believe it! A date!” He spun you around laughing and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“If I'd known it would make you this happy I would have asked sooner.”

He finally placed you on your feet, still sporting that huge grin, and you felt your heart skip a couple beats. It was no secret that you were crushing on Bee. How could anyone not fall for him? A part of you was so worried that it would get weird, but this was going better than you imagined.

“When is the date? What time? Where is it?!”

He is bombarding you with questions, and his eagerness just made your chest swell with happiness. You hugged him, and Bee froze, arms sticking out a bit awkwardly.

“She’s hugging me..”

You were squeezing tightly and when he glanced to the side, you were wearing a smile. His shoulders fell, and he returned the smile, holding you close.

“This is..nice..”

He wished more than anything that he could just stay in this moment with you.

#secrets #friendship #lies #bumblebee x reader #love #family #sam witwicky #Mickeala #transformers #autobots #cute #pain #lying #scientist #power

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emilyprenkissme · 1 year ago

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Welcome, newbie.

Spencer woke up with a sinking feeling, fully aware that today held the promise of misery. His sleep was disrupted by the unmistakable sound of his neighbors clumsily maneuvering what must be bowling balls at an ungodly hour—6 am to be precise. Blinking his eyes open, he allowed the dim morning light to filter into the room, confirming his dread. Rain poured outside, not the picturesque kind, but the type that seemed to possess a magnetic force, coercing you to stay in bed all day.

In his groggy state, he reached for his phone, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his free hand, only to find a message from Hotch waiting for him.

We've got a case. Come in early.

Cursing Hotch under his breath, Spencer knew he had a mere 34.3 minutes to transition from his cozy bed to the front door of his apartment if he intended to avoid being late. Swiftly, he dressed himself, tossing a pre-made PB&J sandwich into his bag for lunch. Then, with a sense of urgency, he rushed out the door, practically sprinting. A personal best, it took him just 26.4 minutes to prepare.

Following his usual route, Spencer passed by numerous Starbucks outlets before reaching his favorite one, the one where a friendly barista affectionately referred to him as Spence. As he pulled up alongside it, he glanced at the time—luckily, he was on schedule. Entering the café, his disappointment was palpable; the barista he liked wasn't there. He let out a soft sigh as he placed his order for a cappuccino with light foam and a buttered croissant. Then he was on his way.

The drive remained uneventful, a familiar routine of passing cars and towering trees. This afforded him ample time to contemplate the impending case they were about to tackle and to immerse himself in the new podcast he had been engrossed in for the past week.

Meanwhile, Aj stirred beneath the cool sheets of her new apartment, a far cry from her old life in Manassas. The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting gentle stripes of light on the walls. She blinked sleep from her eyes and stretched her arms, feeling the excitement and trepidation of a new beginning.

The faint buzz of her alarm clock served as a reminder that her days as a detective in the Manassas police force were behind her. Today marked her first official day at the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, a comforting companion during her early mornings. Aj poured herself a cup, savoring the rich flavor, and contemplated the challenges that lay ahead. The cases she would investigate, the profiles she would build—these thoughts fueled her determination.

Her drive was short, a mere 35 minutes. The short time didn’t stop her from contemplating just quitting her new job and moving to Australia. Her nerves were at a high. Her feelings were muddled. On one hand, she was happy to be moving forward in her career, but on the other hand she wanted so badly to return to the familiarity of the police force. She sighed heavily, her grip on the steering wheel tightening.

Driving through the streets of Quantico, she marveled at the change in scenery. The quiet, tree-lined roads of this small Virginia town were a far cry from the bustling streets of Manassas. She passed quaint houses with well-tended gardens. It was a different world, but it was one she was determined to navigate. One she was determined to build her life in.

Pulling into the parking lot was surreal. She knew through the metal doors in front of her, was her future. She knew the BAU was expecting a courageous, well versed detective. She knew she had the capability to be that for them, but the familiar feeling of anxiety made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t enough.

“You’ve got this, Aj. You’ve got this.”

Her words of affirmation were enough to get her through the doors, but were they enough to get her through the trials of being in the BAU?

In the hushed corridors of the BAU, Spencer found himself in a moment of curiosity, he had heard the whispers of a new member of the team. As he stood at the coffee machine, he felt a large hand grip his shoulder. He jumped slightly, turning to see a sly, familiar smile.

“Relax, pretty boy, I’m just here to show the new girl how to use the coffee pot.” Spencer's eyes lit up when he heard ‘new girl’. He smiled widely and spun himself completely to face Derek. He’d been curious all day, and finally his thirst for curiosity was about to be quenched. His gaze immediately fell on the woman behind Morgan. Her dark hair and piercing gaze made him take a loud gulp of coffee.

Aj’s glance fell on him, her eyes lighting up with something neither of them could quite figure out.

“Amelia Hayle - er- Agent Hayle or AJ, but there's already JJ and I don't..”

She was rambling, and Spencer thought it was adorable. His smile was unmistakable and dopey as he watched her ramble on about things he couldn't care less about.

“Spencer, Dr. Reid if we’re doing formalities.” The both of them laughed, “Welcome to the BAU.”

“Formalities…” Derek chuckled out “what he means to say is welcome, newbie.”

(short ramble of a first chapter…getting back into writing and stuff!! but hopefully i can get this lil fic rolling)

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #oc #spencer x oc #spencer reid x oc #fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds

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rajasthan-political-leader · 1 month ago

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The Grand Inauguration of Rising Rajasthan Global Investment Summit 2024: Col Rajyavardhan Rathore

The Rising Rajasthan Global Investment Summit 2024, a flagship event to drive economic transformation in Rajasthan, kicked off with grandeur in Jaipur. Inaugurated by Prime Minister Narendra Modi, the summit is poised to position Rajasthan as a leading investment hub. Col Rajyavardhan Rathore, a key figure in promoting this initiative, emphasized the summit’s role in shaping the future of Rajasthan’s economy.

A Visionary Start: The Inauguration Ceremony

The inauguration ceremony was nothing short of a spectacular display of Rajasthan’s cultural richness and economic ambitions. PM Modi, along with dignitaries from across the globe, lit the ceremonial lamp, marking the beginning of a three-day extravaganza aimed at attracting investments across various sectors.

Keynote by PM Modi

Col Rajyavardhan Rathore’s Address

Key Themes of the Summit

1. Investment in Renewable Energy

Rajasthan, blessed with ample solar and wind resources, aims to be a leader in renewable energy. The summit highlights projects aimed at making the state a green energy hub.

2. Boosting Tourism and Heritage

Rajasthan’s rich cultural heritage is a focal point, with plans to modernize infrastructure while preserving its historical charm.

3. Technology and Startups

The event places significant emphasis on fostering innovation through support for startups, IT hubs, and the burgeoning AVGC (Animation, Visual Effects, Gaming, and Comics) sector.

4. Agricultural and Rural Development

Event Highlights

International Participation

The summit sees delegates from over 30 countries, including CEOs, diplomats, and investors, exploring collaborations in various industries.

Policy Announcements

The Rajasthan government has introduced policies tailored to attract investments, including tax incentives, streamlined approvals, and support for startups and MSMEs.

Exhibition and Networking Opportunities

Impact on Rajasthan’s Economy

Billions in Investment Commitments

The summit is expected to secure significant investments in key sectors, boosting Rajasthan’s GDP and job market.

Job Creation

With investments in industrial hubs, green energy projects, and tourism, thousands of job opportunities are set to emerge, particularly for the youth.

Infrastructure Development

Infrastructure upgrades, including smart cities, roads, and industrial parks, will lay the foundation for sustained growth.

Col Rajyavardhan Rathore: Championing Rajasthan’s Growth

A Bright Future for Rajasthan

The Rising Rajasthan Global Investment Summit 2024 is more than an event; it’s a movement to propel Rajasthan into a new era of growth and global recognition. With leaders like Col Rajyavardhan Rathore and the support of the central government, the future looks exceptionally promising for the state and its people.

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stevenbasic · 2 years ago

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GITJ Post 307: The Pink Wave, Aftermath

In bed, morning, just waking up. I felt the early November breeze from outside, chilly. For warmth, I nuzzled into the large body that was in there with me.

nnnnghhh….

I began to remember. We’d climaxed together last night, over there on my embarrassingly threadbare couch, her straddling my lap. My head had been buried between her tits and she’d made sure my ears were covered, cupped, before we came. I remember the sound of shattered glass.

Christ almighty. Her screams had broken my window and set off car alarms in the parking lot.

Laying there now, against her, I shuddered.

It was morning, Wednesday after the election, Wednesday after our first real fuck. She, Melissa, my new Office Manager was with me, laying on her side facing the wall in my little bed, and I found myself woken clinging to her as the laughably small ‘big spoon’ pressed into her, facing her sizable back. Thin white sheets pooled around us. My right arm was curled up around her wasp waist and my groin rested in her huge, muscular rear. With my first conscious breath I’d felt myself immediately hardening into her.

Melissa was not awake, at least not yet. I noticed that she was wearing an old t-shirt of mine, thinned and softened by the years, white, a memento from Amherst. She’d obviously found it after I’d passed out underneath her last night. Through it, I could see she was not wearing a bra. For a while I watched, half in awe, as with each breath her lungs expanded her back, slowly, like great bellows, stretching the tee even thinner. Thick dark hair like a mane fell all over our shared pillow in soft waves. I breathed in her shampoo, hardened up some more and found myself unconsciously pushing into her. Still she slept, I think.

More memories, more images from last night on my couch made me shudder again. That was our first intercourse, our first real lovemaking? It had left me, I realized as I explored my thoughts, feeling sorta dirty and submissive and small. It had been quick - drunk on vodka and whatever else BOOM! put in their chocolate martinis, she had been like a woman possessed, needed it right then. Though it should have been a romantic moment it felt more like being fucked by a steam train than anything else. Plus my gender had just lost an emasculating night of elections, and faced an uncertain, tenuous future…that made me feel smaller, more inferior and more meager still. But I had to admit jesus it was unlike any sex I’d ever had. Yes, she was dominant, me the hapless submissive, but it had been like we were made for one another, our bodies working in a symbiotic harmony. I shuddered, there behind her, remembering it. Jesus I’d been like a little cretin. I didn’t want to be this way, I swear! But she had been a woman unleashed, and I had been just clinging to her, holding on. Was this what our intimacy, our lovemaking would be like? I shivered in the dark excitement the idea brought, and remembered it all again, last night…

Her hips - ample and broad - had worked me lithely, athletic. Her arms - strong and resolute - held me tenderly. Her breasts - enveloping mammary mountains - surrounded my face softly. She’d controlled our rhythm, sitting atop me in the dark, and brought me in for the ride. When she came, and I exploded, it was in a torrent. The fluid! I gasped, I remember, feeling her gush around me as she screamed and the window broke. Onto my thin hips and thighs she came, soaking me in a spilling cascade of her juices. Despite the ignominy of my passiveness, I remember the excitement, how I smiled before I passed out below her. I had, even in my meekest efforts, brought her pleasure that fucking shattered glass and brought her to deluge.

In bed, the big spoon, I grew harder still against her butt.

I wanted her, right then. I wanted her to roll over and almost without a word, just some ‘good mornings’ or somesuch, plunge her tongue into my mouth. I wanted the force of her kiss to press my head into the pillow. I wanted her to mount me, cover my body with her weight, to take me again under the covers and make me feel helpless.

I heard myself sigh. She was still sleeping.

Tremulously, I pulled my right arm from around her waist and laid it upon her flank. Running it up, over the muscles of her lats, her teres minor, her infraspinatus, I gulped. The young woman’s body felt almost like a marble statue, except that she was so warm, her skin so soft. It - her perfectly female flesh - just clung to what felt to be impossibly dense musculature beneath. As a physician, I’ve palplated countless bodies in my time, during exams. Never had I felt anything like…this. As her breath rose, I could see the sinews of her back, and as my hand roamed it, across the thin tee shirt, I found the smooth, hard swells of her muscles completely unyielding. She was soft, but iron-hard. My mouth had gone dry.

Gathering more bravery, and seeing that she still slept, that her breaths still came in the same slow, powerful rhythm, I moved my hand from her back, down her lumbar triangle, to her obliques, up the dramatic curve of her gluteus medius, and then - nervously peeling the sheets a bit away - onto the huge expanse of her ass, bare. By god, her hips were easily twice my own width, and the sheer amount of brawn under my trembling hand might rival all I had in my own body. She was massive! And, like the rest of her, it was a smooth layer of feminine softness that overlaid a powerful mountain of muscle. My own breath came in quick rasps now, even as she continued sleeping. This woman was a masterpiece! Sculpted by the gods or who knows what - I didn’t care. She was in bed with fucking me!

Grasping her hip and unable to help myself, I pulled myself again into her. Jesus, this woman could sleep - ! I was not a small guy, down there, and now fully erect. She must be exhausted not to feel this, I thought, not without a little pride, remembering now how it felt to be inside her last night, filling her. God, I’d never been so hard in all my life, and couldn’t help to press in…

…

“You like this, when I take charge, don’t you?” she’d whispered down to me, as she sat atop me on the couch last night, fucking me, holding my hands clamped by the wrist above my head with one hand of hers. My head was not so deep between her breasts that I couldn’t hear, or be seen to nod in acquiescence. Her chuckle, too, I could hear through her chest. “Is that part of it? Why you’re so - ooooo, nnnnngh! - turned on?” she continued, as her hips rolled up and down my length, “Do you like me being the one in control?”

Without stopping the slow thrusts of her hips, she’d used the hand behind my head to turn it up towards her. "You like this, do you?" she breathed softly, smiling as I briefly struggled beneath her, "Like me to be on top, huh?" She then grunted and gave me a hard thrust with her heavy hips. I groaned, and she turned my face back down, into the sweet, smothering darkness of her cleavage. “Yeah, you do. That’s okay…” I heard her say, as she went at me again, fucking me with renewed vigor, “just let mama do all the work.” Tits bounced all around my head as I rested motionless below her. I’d realized how passive I was being, and that only brought on my climax quicker. She’d sensed it, she’d known right when I was going to come, and her own orgasm came right on its heels.

“Yes, baby, YES!” she’d screamed, and that’s when I heard the walls first shake. “COME!” she boomed, shattering the window and bringing on the chorus of alarms…

…

I was at this point absolutely rutting into her enormous ass as she slept. What was happening to me!? I couldn’t help myself. My face was buried in her back, and I was…fuck…I was…No, I can’t do this! She’s…she’s sleeping!

Nngnh nnghhh ngnnghhghh…

oh ffffuuuuccccckkkkkkkkk…….noooooo….

…

…thank god I hadn’t seen her little smile.

=========================================

More at my Patreon

#growing into the job

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