#model bus stand

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Call Me By Fire - Ep 6

he's so small??

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Met The Devil

lucifer x human!reader

based on folklore about the devil, cause i thought that would be cool teehee

Part [2]

Warnings: SMUT 18+, implied fem reader (clit use), based on devil folklore so possibly ooc lucifer, so sorry but lucifer our boy ain’t that caught up on lilith here, penetrative sex, didn’t proof read so lmk if you see any mistakes, no mention of hairtype/bodytype/skin colour, swearing,

Word count: 4K

Your shoes clacked against the concrete, water from puddles splashing out from underneath your feet. The rain poured down vigorously, and unforgivingly. Your hair ruined, your clothes soaked and your mood sour. It’s been a trying day starting off with a failed job interview and ending with bending over backwards for people who didn’t deserve it.

It wasn’t even like you couldn’t handle a problem, or a hurdle, but it seemed like every path you took led to a dead end. You were tired, broke, and felt drained, you would kill for just a break from the failure.

Your pace slowed long ago, not really wanting to return into a room full of loud family members with critical opinions. You dragged your feet through puddles of water, feeling the cold rain soak through. The storm raged on clouds continuing to pelt down fat droplets, you inhaled the smell of wet grass, damp concrete and mud as you strolled.

The amber street lights above you were dim, and your eyes danced around the street lazily, observing everything and nothing. Just a few feet away from you was a bus stop, with a shelter and a bench, figuring it’d be better to not be drenched completely, you decided you’d have a seat maybe the rain will dissipate.

You dragged your feet focusing down at them as you walked into the shelter. As you turned into it, you bumped into someone jolting you backwards slightly. Reflexively your head shot up from your feet to see a man’s back, he quickly turned to you. You observed his clothing his head held a rather out there looking white hat, shoulders holding up a long white chesterfield coat along with white boots to match his monochromatic look.

Meeting his eyes you admired the unique colour; they looked light brown, but they were such a concentrated colour it could’ve been mistaken for an amber or perhaps orange. He was very pale, and poking out of his hat extremely blonde hair you briefly had the thought of perhaps he just lacked in melanin; he was albino, and so you moved past it. Standing fairly short even with his boots, he seemed like a wealthy man, and perhaps a model too, there’s no way he couldn’t be with such a catching appearance. The man gave you a wide grin, showing off his sparkling teeth, perfect as you expected. “Hi!” The strange man shouted, a rich booming voice coming out of him. You didn’t know what voice you expected to hear from him, but the slightly unsure, sultry one definitely wasn’t it.

Stepping back from him lending him some personal space back, you smiled nervously. “Hi, i’m sorry i thought- well i didn’t see anyone in here, sorry.” The man ‘pfft’ at you, eyes closed momentarily, head tilted back. “It’s not a problem at all! Eh, i was just stopping by!” Waving at you he stepped futher in the bus shelter, opening his arm to welcome you in excitedly.

You watched him intently as you walked inside, you felt curious about him as he had an aura you couldn’t quite place. When inside you stood parallel to him, watching as his posture slowly decompressed like he was glad you were here. You briefly wondered what he meant by stopping by it didn’t seem like the appropriate term to use in this scenario, but you argued with yourself that he could’ve been flustered.

Gazing down at his arm a cane had appeared- one that wasn’t there before, you had to do double take, assuring yourself that you were seeing things correctly. As you did so, he leaned ever so slightly on it putting more trust in the cane then he probably should have. “An apple?” You questioned observing the handle that he grasped with gloved hands. His eyebrow rose with a confused expression gracing his gorgeously sculpted face waiting for you to elaborate. “Your cane, sir.” You smiled nodding toward it, feeling a strange sense of adoration him and for the far away look in his eyes, one you recognized. “Cane? Oh, OH! My cane, ha! Yes uh, apples. They’re, uh gods gift after all.”

Realization flooded his face, smirk reappearing as he leaned forward just a bit, as he did so you felt a sudden sense of familiarity that was almost sickening. You’ve never felt such a pull before to a person like you did in this moment. “Would you like an apple? It’s cold out, you must be tired after such a long tedious day.” Watching him as he dug into his pocket pulling out a decently sized apple- perfectly red as well.

Tilting your head to the side questioningly you ask; “How did you know my day was tedious?” The question came out gently, quiet, void of any accusation or fear. Instead you felt calm gazing from his captivating eyes to the apple, hand stallled just a bit away from yourself reaching toward. “It’s so evident on your face, you poor thing. Here go ahead sweetheart.” His voice that was once insecure, unsure and bouncing in pitch, was now relaxed, smooth and hypnotizing.

There was no malice or condescension in what he said, but rather an observation of what you failed to hide in your current state. Nodding with a short shrug, you reach further, the man meeting you half way to place the fruit in your palm. Your hand briefly touched his own gloved one, they were warm as ever, and you’d wish you could’ve gotten more of a feel.

Smiling at him you suddenly noticed his lids were covered in a lavender purple, perhaps you noticed because they were lidded at you now, unlike before when they were wide. His smile was lazy as he watched you bite into his fruit. It was probably one of the more fresher apples you’d ever bitten into, and as you swallowed the first bite your stomach growled, literally demanding more.

The strange man in white chuckled at the sound of your stomach, and before you could let embarrassment consume you he spoke. “See! So glad I found you, wouldn’t want you starving now would we?” It seemed he had gone back to his boisterous mood as he watched you crunch happily down.

“Thank you so much sir, this is such a good apple, really, did you grow this in your garden?” You asked him, he came closer standing beside you, the two of you now facing the road, looking out at the rain. “Mm, not my garden…” The man muttered under his breath, you quirked a brow humming at him barely hearing what he said. His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “Heh! Oh nothing sweets! Don’t worry, i was just, uh, remembering some stuff. From. Like, the past.”

It was as if he’d lost his cool for a moment, stumbling over everything that came out of his mouth, his gaze fixed ahead at nothing. You admired the side of his face as you chewed the last bit of apple, his head slowly turned to you, eyes catching your own.

“You’re eyes are ethereal.” You breathe eyes squinted in focus as you drank him up. You didn’t fully mean to say what you said, it was something just burst out of you without restraint because you felt so strongly about the beauty they held.

Stuttering, he blushed finding it hard to gather the words under the heated look you were giving him. “Thank you, YN.” The man finally said easy going smile once again present on his face. Before you could say anything in return- including questioning how the hell he knew your name, he again reached in his pocket this time pulling out a single playing card the king of hearts. Furrowing your brows you accepted the card but didn’t understand why he gave it to you.

“Love a good game of cards, always have! I think we’ll see each other some day soon!” The man exclaimed smiling brightly at you, behind you, you could make out the sound of a bus coming up to your stop. You smiled and thankedthe man regardless of the oddities, he returned the gesture smiling toothily at you. He rested himself against his cane again watching you intently as you glanced behind you. The bus lights lit up your figure, and you supposed you’d get on for the rest of the ride home. Turning with a smile to say your farewells to the mystery man, your stomach dropped. The man had vanished, and you’d only looked away a second. Stepping out into the rain, you peered up and down the long streets, unable to see his white coat or hat in either direction.

Standing next to the curb the bus whined to a stop, the compressed air blowing out warmly at your legs. When the bus driver opened his doors, you stepped on tapping your finger against the safety glass. The conductor looked at you exhausted by the night and the people he handled.

“Sorry if this is strange, but did you see anyone in the bus shelter with me?” The diver looked at you and it was obvious to him he couldn’t care less, but you stayed put waiting the vocal confirmation. “No ma’am, but if i’m being honest i wasn’t paying attention.”

You nodded quickly eyes casted down, thanking him you put your toll in and walked your way down the isle. When in your seat, you pulled out the card once more to inspect it in the light. Your eyebrows lifted looking down at the card, written on the back where there was nothing before, now had beautiful calligraphic writing with an address on it.

Typing the address into your phone, it directed you to what looked to be a website where people posted looking for house sitters. Turning your mouth in a disgusted manor, you silently questioned why the hell this man would give you such a thing. Scrolling through the different enlistings, you boredly read through descriptions and pay killing time until your stop.

Just a few stops away from home, your thumb stopped on a house, it was a pretty decent home appeared to be some sort of log cabin. The pay they were willing to give was generous, and it was only for three days, oddly enough. Clicking on it, you read through the description, they asked not to bring pets, eat their food, or sleep in their bedrooms asking to bring something to sleep on.

It was a two hour commute by drive, but seeing as you didn’t drive, it was a four hour commute with the train. You sent the owner a quick message telling them that you needed the pay and you were willing to comply to all the rules no issues. After sending your message, you stood mirroring the robotic voice as it called the name of your stop.

—

“Hi welcome!” Marie greeted you with a handshake, smiling at her you shook back. Walking into the cabin alongside Marie she explained that she needed to pick her husband up from a business trip from the middle east, and her house was too high maintenance for her to leave behind. “Occasionally, the pipes will freeze if the temperature drops, you the heat will need to controlled carefully. There’s a garden outback i am very proud of, i’d really appreciate you checking on it daily, just to make sure no pesky animals intrude.”

Walking through the house, you notice different things hanging, but no family pictures. The house was filled with mahogany and oak woods, which were really gorgeous, the house was dark and lit by yellow lighting from different chandeliers and vintage looking collectors lamps.

“Oh! Also if you need we have a prayer room! Don’t touch anything in there as they’re very expensive. Besides that, you’re good. Alright i gotta run, this willl be a very tedious trip. Call me if you have any problems.” Nodded as she spoke, you walked along side her towards the front door. You smiled at her assuring that all would be well, and if there was any problems you wouldn’t hesitate to call.

—

Another rain storm moved into the area thunder shaking the cabin. You had a cot set up in the living room per Marie’s request, and your food was put away in the fridge. You had gotten into shorts and a t-shirt now that you didn’t have to worry about being presentable and settled in the cot with your phone and laptop.

You’d been in the house for ten hours now, and you weren’t able to relax, paranoia filled your mind as you felt off about being in a strangers home. The urge and need for money fueled you in the beginning, but now alone in the middle of the woods, in a cabin that isn’t your own with a thunderstorm overhead, yeah you were filled with anxiety.

Just as you felt a bit of tension release from your shoulders, three knocks sounded from the door making you jumped from the disruption of silence. Standing cautiously you walked to the fire place grabbing one of the pokes that sat off to the side, and went to the door. Peeping through the hole you were surprised to be greated by the man from the bus stop. He held the rim of his hat down over his his face that held a scowl of discomfort, slumped over and soaked.

Opening the door you stood the fire poke off to the side against the wall. Despite your apprehension and confusion, something in you felt compelled to open the doo. “What the hell?” You exclaim, watching him perk up at the sound of your voice, eyes naturally finding your own. “Oh you! Y’know i had a feeling you’d be here, uhh, mind helping me out. It’s freezing!”

Grabbing his bicep you tugged him in, him letting out waohs as he stumbled in letting you do as you pleased. Slamming the door behind you, you grabbed his shoulders gently looking into his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing all the way out here? God, you’re soaked.” You saying eyeing him, he was wearing the white outfit he had on nearly two months ago.

Walking to your suitcase you pulled out a towel, t-shirt and joggers for the man. Turning you walked back to the entry to see him already half naked, gasping you spun on your heel. “What the hell dude! Put this on!” You screamed tossing all the items behind your back.

The man laughed, it sounded charming and he seemed delighted at your shock. “Don’t worrrryyy, its no biggie. Look as long as you please.” Scoffing you turned seeing him with the joggers on, hat tossed to the side drying his hair. “You look very good tonight,“ The man trailed eyeing you up and down.

You felt hot at such a statement making you feel like a horn dog. You crossed your arms and gave him a grin. “Can I help you by the way, maybe call you a car? I’m uh, house sitting.” You explain walking up to him, he shook his head smiling coyly at you. “No no, thats, fine.” You went to question further but he had other ideas and brushed past you wandering into the house.

“I don’t even know your name!” You say speedily following him as he observed everything in the cabin he passed. He glanced back at you briefly before muttering; “Lucifer,” Quickly before you could get a word in edge wise he turned aburptly stopping, you bumping into him lightly. “And I only ask that you spare me a few hours, maybe a meal?”

-

So there you two sat, you had ate with the man, and now sat listening to the stories of a man who swore up and down his name was Lucifer. He explained his predicament while you ate, saying that he just took a wrong turn and drove into a ditch.

You laughed along he told you interesting and funny stories of his life and the people around him, telling you about his crafting hobby. Which captivated you the most, honestly you were mesmerized by the man, and he seemed to feel the same about you.

His eyes lidded and relaxed, his chin rested on his hand, leaning forward completely encapsulated by your presence. You never had a man so focused on you, he hung on every word, and you felt that framillar tinge once again, pulling you into him.

The magnet kept pulling you in, and you were ever so hungry for the man in front of you. “Yeah, my daughter uh, she’s like me with the ambition. I’m just afraid she’s gonna end up like me.” Lucifer said shrugging while looking off to the side. You wont deny you felt the slightest bit upset at the statement, daughter implies mother. “Even if she does fail the only thing can do is be there for her through the trip. It’s harder to fail alone, i think.”

Nodding in contemplation the blondes eyes came back to you, his hands came the the middle of the table causing your gaze to drop. His hands twisted, flicked and your focus was now on a gold circle spinning on the table. His wedding band.

“She’s been alone a long time, my wife, she left seven years ago, we’d been divorced since Charlie was a toddler, heh, kept hoping she’d return. I left Charlie alone too, kinda thought it was for the best. Not anymore. We work together.” He explained smiling at the mention of his daughter. Slapping his hand atop the ring ceasing its momentum he looked at you watching as you placed your hand ontop of his, gently caressing him as you did so.

The two of you stared at each other silently, for how long you weren’t sure. It wasn’t until he pulled himself to his feet sluggishly that the staring spell broke. The confidence returned to him, as did his mischievous smirk. You were under the assumption be was ready to go so you stood with him.

Just as you were about to speak, thanking him for the unique experience he granted you, he grabbed you by the arms and tugged you into him. You fell forward hands flying to his chest, meanwhile his head tilted and softly his lips met yours. You didn’t have time to question a thing before your lips danced in tandem with his. Perhaps you should’ve been less willing than you were but how could you not be? It was like a gift from god, this man.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him to your chest, his hand moved from your arm to your hips grinding himself into you needily. You whimpered at the contact feeling how excited he already was, when you whimpered he took the chance to sneak his tongue into your mouth. As your own tongue slid past his you stuttered feeling how long he could reach, and moaned at the way he tried to swallow you whole so nastily.

Pulling back slightly, Lucifer paused as you felt the fork of his tongue. Shocked you pulled back fully looking at his lustful expression, it was almost as if his eyes were a darker shade.

“What’s wrong?” He asked hands slowly travelling from your hips up to the hem of your shirt, toying with it. “Your tongue?” At your inquisitive tone, he stuck his tongue out. “Thish?” He spoke through is tongue that stuck out to your, normal sized and unforked.

Smirking at him you shook your head gently you must’ve been nervous. Pulling him toward your make shift bed you two crashed down on it haphazardly, he leaned back on his elbows watching as you crawled on top of him meeting his lips eagerly. His hair was slightly disheveled, his breathing jagged under you.

You slid yourself up and down, gliding yourself purposely right on his hard on. Pulling away from the sloppy make out session you two were in, Lucifer looked at you with glassy eyes. “Let’s make deal,” He breathed panting to catch some of the breath you stole straight from him.

“What?” You whispered inches from his lips. “Let me have you, all of you and when the time comes you’ll be a queen, you’re just a diamond in the rough.” There was almost a saddness you could detect, maybe something you could describe as mournfully lonesome. You felt the tug; the pull to him you couldn’t deny, so you took his hand away from your hip, and shook it. “Deal.” You say mocking something that would be business offical.

With a sly grin, he pushed himself up to you, your lips crashing into his instantaneously. You bit his lip gently as he grinded himself into you enjoying how unashamed he was of showing his desire. You met his grinding with your own, dragging your hands down his warm chest. Lucifers breath stuttered at your touch, his nails sinking into your flesh with anticipation.

You stopped at the band of the joggers pulling away from the kiss. As you did Lucifers eyes were wide, pupils blown and he robotically lifted himself by his hips, awkwardly shuffling his joggers down. You lifted yourself so he could get them the rest of the way down before tossing your shirt to the side.

Grinding down on his uncovered cock you moaned head thrown back, he was all consuming and the air felt so hot after the deal. It was desperation that was evident on both your faces, Lucifer hypnotized by you as you greedily grinded against him. Lucifer whimpered laying back down flat on the cot trying to stop himself from violently bucking up.

“Tell me what you want Lucifer,” You purred lifting your hips from his boner rotating your hips round and round while just barely touching his dick beneath you. “Fuck please, get on me.” Lucifer gritted out teeth clenched, eyes closed sparkling at how tight he had them sealed.

Manurvering yourself you pulled down your shorts and urged him to sit up. Lazily he followed your pull sitting up straight toward you. You liked this position way more, face to face as your sunk yourself down on his cock. His legs jerked, spreading out falling off each side of the caught causing you to bottom out, slipping right down to his balls.

“Oh shit you’re an angel, fuck, you feel so good, oh,” Lucifer whimpered voice wavering, although he smiled through the pleasure. Unwillingly he fucked up into you, your body unmoving jerked up with his hips, you were too busy getting used to him girth and size not to mention his all consuming presence. He was so hot, smug, and it made you feel hornier than you already are.

Sliding your hips forward you whimper and moaned. Face in your neck he breathed you in, whimpering as he continued to fuck up into every now and again, still trying to hold back for you. You wrapped your legs around his back clenching on unable to speak as Lucifer had your brain wiped of all thought.

Lucifer bit down holding back a groan, effectively drawing blood from the wound, licking it right up after. Suddenly like a madman, he gripped you like a life line, gently but swiftly flipping you over onto your back. He looked down at you with red eyes stunning you into silence. “Lucifer?” You whispered breathlessly as he smiled down at your form, his tongue darting, out forked once again, and dragged his devilish tongue against his no longer normal teeth.

Without responding he sunk himself into you, your legs on their own accord flew up around Lucifer as he slowly plunged himself into you. You cried out in pleasure as he picked up the pace slamming his hips into you, skin slapping filled the room as well as Lucifers gravel groans and growls.

Your eyes were closed as you reached up to him, your body jerked at his thrusts the cot creaking. You pulled him toward you, he made no effort to pull away from your tugging. His lips met yours pulling you into a hot kiss, you met him with need, teeth clashing and tongues twisting. You being to fucked out in bliss to realize the razor sharp teeth that nicked your lips and tongue, or the snake like tongue that explored your mouth.

You moaned at the sensations you felt all around you, your heightened senses picking up the cold snake like skin that whipped by your calf. Opening your eyes you clenched coming face to face with Lucifer, the devil, the literal devil.

Long red horns stuck out from his pale skin, red eyes lidded and glowing down at you, sharp teeth evident by his smirked. His pace never slowed as he watched you stare at him, and his pride swelled at the fleeing of you clenching him tightly, legs simultaneously pulling him in closer.

“Like what you see angel?” You mewled at his words grabbing his shoulders as he looked down at you eyes full of desire and pride. “Yes,” You gasped as he hit a pretty little spot inside you that made you sing to him.

“Please Lucifer!” A rumble sounded in his chest a noise you couldn’t describe. Attempting to stabilize your jerking body, your hands moved to grip his back but paused at the feeling of feathers. Lazily your mouth fell open, body jerking as your head tilted to the side getting a better look at the red and white wings that cascaded far across the room.

“O-oh, my god, fuuuck.” You moaned trying to make sense of the display in front of you but Lucifer pressed his finger down on your clit making you loose control of your mind once more, bucking up to him, begging him.

You pleaded to Lucifer like a chant to him, looking into his red glowing eyes. His smile was gone his eyes lidded eyebrows pinched as he fought off the urge to cum just a little longer.

With a shout your body shook tensing, toes curling, Lucifer muttered your name over and over worshipping your name as you did to him. His hips halted deep within you and he bit down on your neck leaving several different bite marks.

Pulling away he stared down at your sweaty body his demonic form shrinking away, his eyes going yellow with his natural red irises. You stared shocked at him, but he only coyly smiled at you. “How was your date with the devil?” He smiled brushing his hand down your cheek.

“You’re really the devil?” You asked in disbelief and astonishment. “Well y’know,” He coughed looking away, pulling away from you effectively pulling out of you. “Yeah that’s what they call me.” Another charming smile graced his face.

Your lurched upward eyes wide. “I made a deal with the devil?!” You exclaimed not feeling the way you expected if you were to meet the devil. Y’know fear.

“Yep, and, you promised yourself to me,” Popping his ‘p’ as well as accentuating the ‘and’, he tossed the ring at you. Swiftly you caught it, and by the time you looked down at it, and then back up to him, he was redressed in his suit, coat and hat.

“Speaking of which, I’ve got a kingdom to run.” Thunder rumbled shaking the cabin making the lights flicker out ominously, and in that brief moment, the devil himself, disappeared. Leaving you alone, with his ring, naked in the cabin.

[hairyjocktf]

New Recruit

Luke was at a low point in his life. He’d graduated high school but wasn’t smart enough to get into college. He had tried working some retail jobs around but he never had the work ethic to last long in those. He had similar problems in other gigs. It had been months of him bumming around and his parents had finally had enough, he was officially out of their house. With few options left, he was desperate. While walking down the street one day he saw an ad for the military, boasting stable careers and plenty of benefits. He’d played a couple seasons of sports in school and felt like he might be able to at least pass the initial evaluation, and out of near desperation he decided to try and enlist.

He made his way to the army office nearby that had been listed in the ad, and to his surprise there was no trouble. They did a quick physical evaluation and he was good to go, ready to sign up for boot camp. Luke was nervous; there was no coming back from this point. He thought about it for a couple minutes while being stared down by the recruiter, realizing he really couldn’t think of a better option. And so he signed the contract, unsure of what was to come. 

Two weeks later he was on a bus out to the base to start his boot camp. Luke didn’t know what to expect; he’d heard numerous stories about how brutal this training would be to weed out people. The bus was filled with the strangest mix of people he’d ever seen. Some guys looked like they’d been using steroids since they were 12, some looked like they belonged in an accounting department, and some he just couldn't pin down. Regardless of who surrounded him, Luke felt out of place, and he was only growing more nervous as the bus sped through the dense woods. After what felt like hours they finally cleared the trees and he saw the huge fences that would enclose the next few months of his life.

The buses pulled into a large dirt clearing at the center of the base where they forced everybody out. A huge and built man addressed the new recruits with his booming voice.

“Privates! Welcome to Fort Eagleton!” he shouted above the noise of disembarking men. “I am Drill Sergeant Thornton, and I’ll be in charge of whipping you lot into shape!”

Luke gulped, it looked like those rumors had been true. He was in for a world of hurt.

“You’ll be under my watch and command for the next ten weeks, learning what it takes to be a soldier. First, I want to see what I’m working with. Privates! See those chalk markings on the ground? Space yourselves on them for inspection!” 

His loud voice echoed across the clearing. The men all scrambled to stand in position, each on a chalk marking that were spaced four feet apart in a grid. Luke found an open one unfortunately near the front of the pack. He glanced nervously around at the others. Some were standing at the ready like they had been born for this, but the rest also looked around with worried looks on their faces. Their attention was brought back to the front by the thundering voice of the sergeant. 

“Listen up, privates! Here with me I have Corporal Evans, a prime example of what you should all strive to become in the next ten weeks!” The sergeant gestured to a tall and strong looking man next to him. Evans was at attention in full uniform, but Luke could tell the man was absolutely jacked underneath. He could see how the coat was straining against his huge, broad shoulders.

“He is the epitome of a soldier, and what all men should model themselves after,” the sergeant continued. “I will make a real man out of each of you! That is my promise as your Drill Sergeant. However, some of you may take to that easier than others.” He began walking through the rows of men in plainclothes, observing each of them with scrutiny. Luke’s eyes went wide as the sergeant stopped directly in front of him.

“You, boy. What’s your name?” The sergeant did not quiet his voice even when right next to him. 

“Luke,” he said shakily, “Luke Peterson.”

“Private Peterson, you may have passed the exam to get here, but I hold doubts that you are up to the challenge that is basic training,” the sergeant said while making intense eye contact. “Do you think you have what it takes to become a soldier?”

“Yes.. sir,”

“Well! Let’s put that to the test,” he boomed again. “Evans! Bring me this private’s new uniform.”

Within seconds, the man was at his side holding a folded army uniform. Thornton took it and handed it to Luke.

“Put this on, boy! Let’s see how you’ll fit in here,” he said with an almost sinister twinkle in his eyes. 

Luke had no choice but to then strip down to his underwear in the middle of the crowd. The eyes of the dozens of men he had entered with were burning holes in him as he changed into the fatigues. They immediately felt too large for him but he continued as the sergeant watched impatiently. He pulled up and belted the pants before buttoning the shirt closed. They were at least two or three sizes too big, Luke thought, and he looked ridiculous in the oversized fatigues. He laced up his boots which were also excessively large and stood back up to address the sergeant’s burning gaze.

Out of nowhere, Luke suddenly felt like he’d taken a punch straight in his stomach. He collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, gasping for air as the pain in his stomach did not lessen, but began to spread. His torso felt like it was on fire, and he groaned in distress as his body was overwhelmed. Everyone else in the clearing was watching in awe as Luke’s body began to grow. His spine lengthened slowly, back widening and shoulders broadening. His legs began to stretch and grow longer, adding a good eight inches to his height. He began packing on muscle like he’d been working out for a decade, limbs inflating in seconds adding strength and size. His chest pushed out into two meaty pecs, which finally caught Luke’s attention from the incredible soreness he felt as his body exploded in size. His eyes widened as he watched his own body fill out the fatigues that had moments ago been far too large, arms swelling to fill the sleeves and chest pushing against the now tight shirt. His legs also bulked up, adding 20 pounds of muscle as quads and hamstrings grew in and thickened. His feet expanded, pushing against his large boots. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his jaw as it widened, giving him a square and masculine face. The pain began to subside and Luke managed to stand back up, this time matching the sergeant in height. 

The drill sergeant addressed him, “Good start soldier.” He had a hint of a grin on his stern face.

Luke was angry and confused, “What the hell was that? What did you do to me? What do you mean good start…” His sentence trailed off as he felt an intense tingling feeling arise on his chest. Underneath his tight uniform shirt, in the center of his massive pecs, tiny brown hairs began to poke out of his skin. The hairs started out thin and wispy but quickly thickened as they grew longer, spreading out across Luke’s mountainous chest muscles. The hairs erupted across the expanse, burying the skin under a dense layer of fur as they grew thicker, longer, and tangled together. Especially dark hairs sprouted around his sensitive nipples, causing Luke to let out a moan as he brought his hands up to massage them. The crowd watching Luke was stunned at his actions in front of the sergeant. Some of the men closest to him could see what looked like thick hairs beginning to poke out from above his shirt collar. The fur on his chest had spread up across his collarbone and had started peeking up onto his neck, where it was finally visible. The sergeant stood watching with a smirk as Luke was lost in a world of pleasure, rubbing his nipples as hair began taking over his body. The hair was not confined to just his chest, and shot down south across his stomach, coating his new abs and muscle in the same thick rug. The hair was growing in so densely that it started to push out through cracks and seams in his uniform. 

The other privates were speechless watching this erotic display in front of them, not knowing what to do. A few noticed Corporal Evans, who was standing behind the drill sergeant, subtly mimicking Luke’s actions, seemingly lost in his own bodily pleasures as his hands roamed his body. Luke’s breaths grew louder as the hairs continued climbing up his thick neck, creating a river of hair traveling up from his chest to his square jaw. He’d never had much stubble before, just some light peach fuzz, but that was changing. The soft hairs were overrun with thick, wiry, testosterone-fueled growth that coated his jaw in an incredibly dense beard. His upper lip was next, first darkening with the shadow of thick stubble before the hairs pushed out and completed the full beard on his face. Luke’s hands moved upwards, stroking his fingers through the long wiry hairs that now covered the lower half of his face. His eyes closed as the pleasurable sensation began to control his actions, wanting to experience every ounce of this growth. The beard growth was very noticeable to the crowd as well, as men further away began to break formation and inch closer to see what was happening to Luke. Evans was in the back, feeling the scratchy stubble on his own face as it pushed out a couple millimeters, just enough to leave a dark five o’clock shadow.

Unbeknownst to the crowd, Luke’s body was continuing to change under his uniform. Luke could feel every new hair sprout out of him as the hairs spread, conquering more of his newly buff body. His armpits tingled as the follicles there went into overdrive, pumping out hair after hair. What had previously been a sparse grouping of hairs quickly became a thick tuft of sweaty, musky hair. Dark and wiry hairs pushed out of bare skin, spreading out and covering his pits in a full manly bush, already dense enough to trap his body sweat and stench. Luke stuck one hand into his shirt to scratch the growing forest in his pit before pulling it out and smelling his fingers. He shivered from the euphoric smell of his own musk that was only growing more potent. The pit hairs continued to spread and even connected with his chest hair, creating a seamless rug across his whole upper body. 

The wave of hair growth continued advancing across his muscular body, with hairs beginning to pop up across his broad shoulders. They were joined by more and more hairs, giving Luke a thick coating across his traps. The hairs began to crawl down his brawny back, knitting a rug as they grew thick and tangled across his shoulder blades. As the hairs advanced down his spine they also began covering his arms, where long dark hairs were pushing out across his triceps before utterly engulfing his forearms in dark fur. Luke watched as the thick hairs poked out of his sleeves, ensuring anyone would know even in full uniform how hairy he was under there. That is, if they didn’t notice his large, calloused hands, which had their own small carpet of hairs sprouting across the backs. Luke could feel as the hairs creeping down his back reached the bottom, where a bushy tuft sprouted up just above his waistband. He subconsciously knew what was next, and moments later he was overcome with bliss as his thick ass cheeks sprouted their own rug of dense curly hairs. He could feel how the thickest, longest, and darkest hairs were pushing out of his crack, and he reached his hand into his pants to feel the silky fur that filled the gap. As all eyes were on Luke, Corporal Evans was still engaged in his own stimulation, feeling his pit hairs push out a little more, his back get a little more hairy, and his ass plump up just a bit more.

Luke felt his now size 16 feet heat up in his boots, beginning to grow itchy. Hairs were crawling out of the tops of his massive feet, popping out of his thick toes shortly after. The hairs climbed up his thick legs from his feet, coating his calves in dark hairs before engulfing his massive thighs. The hairs came in thicker and darker as they neared his groin, where his formerly modest bush began to double, then triple in size. Thick pubes were sprouting up all across his crotch, enveloping the area in a dense forest of curly hairs. Luke let out another moan at the sensation and shoved both his hands into his pants. He felt the coarse hairs sprouting through his fingers as his bush continued to spread outward. His cock began gushing precum before it too began to grow. It had almost been swallowed up by the immense bush, but now it hardened and pushed out, growing longer and thicker. Luke grasped his growing member and felt the hair climbing up the shaft as it continued to push further out of his bush. He felt his balls swell in size and drop a little farther down, becoming coated in hairs just like the rest of his groin. 

Luke was overcome with euphoria, and the animalistic instincts took full control as he began stroking his nine inch cock with both hands, each pump blasting his brain and body with pleasure. The sergeant and everyone else watched as Luke jacked off to his own transforming body right in front of them, stunned into silence. Corporal Evans, still unnoticed, slid his own hand into his pants to deal with his rock hard problem. Luke kept at it, moaning louder and louder as precum poured out of his cock. Every stroke seemed to make him grow just a tad bit larger, just a little hairier. Finally, after a few minutes of being overcome by pure ecstasy, he erupted, a fountain of cum spraying out covering his new uniform in sticky white semen. Some of it even got on the sergeant, who seemed unfazed. Evans grunted quietly as he pumped a massive load directly into his jockstrap that he had on under his uniform. He wasn’t prepared for quite how large it would be, leaving a wet spot on the front of his trousers and leaking down his leg. Luke panted as his mind returned to his body, finally taking stock of the situation and realizing in a moment of panic what had happened.

Before he could say anything Sergeant Thornton started to laugh. His roaring laughter pierced the awkward silence that had overtaken the space for the last while. He walked over to Luke and slapped him on the back.

“Atta boy! That’s what I like to see,” He said to Luke with an uncharacteristic smile. The crowd was shocked. That was not the response they’d expected in the slightest. 

“You’re fit to be a real soldier now, and I trust you’ll serve us well. A fine specimen!” he turned to the crowd. “Look here, privates! This is a real man, a bastion of strength and masculinity who can take a beating and give some hell.”

Luke too was stunned. He was scrambling to process what had just happened to him, and that it was seemingly planned by the sergeant the whole time. His thoughts were cut short by the sergeant addressing him again.

“Well son, you’ve done good today. We’ll have to clean up that scruff of yours to get you in regulation,” he stroked Luke’s new beard with his hand, sending a bolt of lightning directly to his still semi-erect cock. “Corporal Evans will help you out with that, and with cleaning up your fatigues,” he said as Evans approached from behind. Luke noticed the darker stubble on his face and the dark splotch in his bulging crotch. 

The drill sergeant once again spoke to the crowd, “The rest of you will be assigned living quarters and shown the areas for training. I want you all back here at exactly 1300 hours!”

Evans ushered Luke away from the grounds and into his own private quarters, where he stripped out of his cum soaked uniform and finally got a look at himself. He was taller, absolutely built, and incredibly hairy. It turned him on in a way he never knew he could be, his cock once again rising to full mast. He rubbed his hands through all of his new fur, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“I was in your shoes when I enlisted,” Evans said to him. Luke turned to face him and saw a slight blush in his cheeks, and his bulge was even more noticeable. “I’ll make sure you get cleaned up and everything, but how about first we just enjoy the new you in its raw form,” he said, stepping right up to Luke and wrapping his hand around Luke’s cock. Lost for words, Luke pulled off Evans’ hat and leaned in for a kiss, grabbing his bulge and pushing him against the wall.

Maybe bootcamp wouldn’t be that bad.

This was my longest and most ambitious story yet! Hope y'all enjoy it and thank you for nearly 400 followers in just a month! Feel free to dm or send an ask if you have ideas for future stories.

[bomber-grl]

Hiro x Drop dead gorgeous!reader

Pairing(s): Hiro Hamada x Gn!Reader

To say you’re good looking would be a severe understatement and everyone knew it

Even hiro had to admit that when he first saw you he had to take a moment to collect himself

Which only got worse when you got introduced to him and became part of the group

And of course, you eventually started dating

Hiro never said it out loud but DAMN

Seriously, you’re really good looking and even if he tries to act non chalant it was getting more and more difficult to ignore

He was always reminded of it too

You’d be walking to the bus station or maybe just walking back to the lucky cat cafe

But either way people would always be staring and those who were bold enough actually approached you to compliment you

Hiro was used to it, I mean he knew and everyone knew so it wasn’t some elaborate secret

But he did get jealous occasionally

Even if he tries shrugging it off more for your convenience

You’re obviously with hiro because you absolutely adore him and unfortunately you’ve been oblivious to his jealousy

That is, until you both are standing by waiting for honey lemon and the rest of the group while at SFAI

You’d just been chilling and goofing off like usual when a presumably student approaches you two

They completely ignore hiros presence and aim for you

They immediately ask for you to be their muse for their paintings and the other asks if you’d do the same but for their photographs

Eventually the group arrives and they (especially gogo) shoos them away and the rest of the evening continues

But it isn’t until you’re walking back to the lucky cat cafe after getting off a bus that some rando was near by and approached

Same old same old

But it was different, the person asked if you’d like to join their company and who knows what really

In the end they handed you a card for a modeling company and when you turned to a very confused hiro and explained how this was one of many cards you have in your drawer back home he was flabbergasted

I mean not only did you catch everyone’s attention and made hiro feel excluded by that but also making him feel insecure

Yea, actually shocking

You could tell hiro wasn’t in the best mood once you got back to his room and when you ask he just explodes

Not at you- just in general

He goes off on how he feels and his cheeks flush and angry red when he begins to explain his jealousy in a non direct way

He knew you’d tease him but when you hugged and reassured him instead he already felt better

Enough of the more angst hcs let’s move into the sweet ones

Best believe hiro was TEASED when you two first got together by the group

I mean it was so obvious how he couldn’t even look you in the eye at first because of how good looking you were

It was all just so funny and knowing you like him back made it even more so

Hiro is a menace and we all know how he often is sassy and just participates in gremlin activities

Butttt luckily for you you can use your looks and hiros weak spot for them to your advantage

He loves to tease you

All.the.time.

So when you’re finally able to you do it to the best of your abilities and go all out

He gets absolutely k.o’d

Which he 100% deserves

Honestly most times he’s just unapologetically down bad while simultaneously trying to avoid having you see his red ass face

He’s such a cutie patootie

He’d seriously be upset when some other guy approaches you with the idea of dating you

Doesn’t blame you for it tho

[hardwriterdeluxe]

Emergency Model (for Barber Exam)

This story is based on the themes from @joshslater story by the same name, linked here:

https://joshslater.tumblr.com/post/750324919700799488/emergency-model

Go show it love!!!

______________________________________________

Alex grew up in a wealthy family, surrounded by every comfort money could buy. His father, a successful businessman, had always emphasized the importance of self-reliance and hard work. Despite their riches, his father insisted Alex make his own way in the world, particularly when it came to paying for college. “Success,” his father often said, “is earned, not given.”

This principle led Alex to a relentless pursuit of part-time jobs to fund his education. Balancing his rigorous academic schedule with work, he found himself perpetually exhausted and constantly broke. His dorm room was neat and orderly, a reflection of his disciplined upbringing and his hope for a bright future.

One fateful afternoon, as Alex scoured job listings online, a peculiar ad caught his attention: “Quick Cash! Emergency Model Needed for Barber Exam.” The promise of easy money was too tempting to resist. Skeptical but desperate, Alex decided to take a chance.

Arriving at the barber school, Alex was greeted by a burly instructor named Mike, who explained the process. “We’ll be giving you a full treatment, mate. You up for it?” Feeling the pressure, Alex nodded.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, trying to sound confident.

“Great, let’s get you suited up so your clothes don’t get messy,” Mike said, handing Alex a jumpsuit typically worn by the barbers.

Once he had changed, the students began their work. The first cut was shorter than Alex was used to, but he remained hopeful. As the cuts grew bolder, his hair transformed into a chavy, sporty style. Before he could protest, a student named Dan approached with a piercing gun. “Hold still, mate. Just adding a couple of studs,” he said, not giving Alex a chance to object. Before he knew it, Alex’s ears were pierced, adorned with small silver studs.

When the final haircut was done, Alex looked in the mirror, barely recognizing himself. “All set, mate!” Dan announced with a grin. Alex went to change back into his clothes, only to find them missing. “Uh, where are my clothes?” he asked, panic rising.

“Oh, must’ve misplaced them. Don’t worry, we’ve got some spares you can borrow,” Dan said, handing him a bundle of clothes. The outfits were all chavy and sporty, much like the students wore. Reluctantly, Alex put on the new clothes, feeling awkward and out of place. He collected his phone and wallet, but the cash he was promised wasn’t there.

Alex left the barber shop, confused and upset about losing his clothes. He headed to the bus stop, only to realize he was short on cash for the fare. As he stood there, unsure of what to do, Dan and a couple of the lads from the barber shop appeared. “Need a hand, mate?” Dan asked, noticing Alex’s predicament.

“Yeah, I don’t have enough for the bus,” Alex admitted, embarrassed.

“No worries. We got you,” Dan said, covering the fare. They rode the bus together, the lads chatting animatedly. Alex, still in shock, barely registered the conversation. When they reached Alex’s stop, the lads walked him to his door. “See you around, mate,” Dan said, patting him on the back. Alex nodded, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and apprehension.

The next day, Alex was awoken by a knock on his door. Groggy and disoriented, he opened it to find Dan and a few of the lads standing there. “Morning, mate! Time to pay up for yesterday,” Dan said with a grin.

Alex’s heart sank. “I don’t have the cash right now. I didn’t get paid from the barber exam,” he explained, his voice wavering.

Dan’s grin widened. “No worries, we’ve got an alternative method. Come with us, and you can work it off.”

Alex had no choice but to agree. He followed the lads, his anxiety mounting. They led him to a local gym where they spent the day working out and playing sports. The lads encouraged Alex, pushing him to embrace their lifestyle more fully.

As the days turned into weeks, Dan began to subtly alter Alex's reality. Using an uncanny ability to manipulate time and space, Dan slowly rewrote Alex's past and present. Alex’s body began to change, growing taller and more muscular. His once lean frame filled out with bulk, his muscles becoming defined from the daily workouts. His bone structure shifted, his features becoming more rugged and less conventionally attractive. His face developed a rougher edge, his jawline more pronounced and his skin tougher.

Alex’s intelligence seemed to drain away, his thoughts slowing and his vocabulary shrinking. He began to speak in the slang and accent of the lads, his speech patterns changing to match theirs. His mind transformed, his memories and identity reshaping to fit his new life. The well-spoken, diligent student was gone, replaced by Alec, a school dropout with a rough, chavy demeanor.

Alec’s heritage seemed to change as well. His affluent background and disciplined upbringing were erased, replaced by a working-class origin. His DNA, once a reflection of his rich ancestry, now bore the marks of a lad who had grown up in a tougher environment. His once clean, well-mannered appearance was replaced by a more average, rugged look.

Alec found himself working at the barbershop for money, his old aspirations and dreams replaced by the immediate need to earn a living. His apartment, once neat and orderly, transformed into a messy, athletic-themed space. Weights and gym equipment cluttered the living room, and sports posters adorned the walls. Alec even found himself sharing the space with a new roommate, Jay, another lad who fit seamlessly into Alec’s new life.

The transformation was complete. Alec’s interests changed; he now enjoyed working out, hanging with the lads, and the rough, chavy lifestyle. His wardrobe, once filled with preppy, clean-cut clothes, now boasted track suits, hoodies, and trainers. His clean, academic demeanor was replaced by a confident, almost cocky swagger.

One day, Alec looked in the mirror and fully embraced the reflection staring back. His rich upbringing, his disciplined studies, his aspirations for a professional career—all were distant memories, replaced by his new life as a proper chavy lad. His brain had fully adapted to his new identity, erasing any lingering doubts or connections to his past life.

As Alec sat in his now cluttered living room, surrounded by his new friends, he felt a sense of belonging he had never experienced before. The job that was supposed to be a quick cash fix had given him a new purpose and a new family. Alec embraced it fully, ready for whatever adventures lay ahead with his newfound brothers. Thus, the wealthy student transformed into a proper chavy sporty lad, his old life replaced by a new, exciting reality.

[kunikukitty]

☆ Always An Artist, Never The Muse

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fem!reader

ix. beauty of art

Since when did it started?

You've always been complimented to be a beauty, always been given praises, and you too are confident when it comes to your appearance.

Not to mention, you are also surrounded by good-looking girls such as Mona, Hutao, and Faruzan.

When did it started, when you began to question your own vision and the mirror? Since when were you became so sensitive about your appearance?

Being an artist who desired to be a muse was your ultimate struggle before. And perhaps, even until today.

You never made a portrait of yourself, having more interest in other scenery you see — and never did you became anyone's art inspiration.

To the non-artists, this might not be a thought worth being sad about. You too, you tell yourself it isn't a big deal, yet it persists. There is an ache, a longing to be admired just as how much you used to admire those whom you painted.

You used to be saddened over the fact that no artist chose you— maybe because you are an artist yourself?

However, even after your candle of passion became unlit— even after the spark that used to shine so brightly began to lose its light, you didn't became anyone's object of admiration.

"Don't worry, I'll keep you company."

You heaved a sigh as you heard Capitano utter those words in a reassuring manner, resting your head to the backrest of the bus seat you're sitting on.

He must've sensed your nervousness, also with the fact that he knows what you've been through.

That's the reason why you rejected those other fine art students anyway, since you didn't want to be just become a muse because you're a part of the options.

They were tasked to ask exchange students to be their model for their project. None of them would ask you if you weren't one, and you hated that. Could it be your pride as an artist hovering over your mind, that you wished to be somebody's muse because they specifically chose you and not just because you happened to be there as an option?

And now you were asked again yet for the same situation— you weren't the first choice.

Is this petty? You honestly don't care.

How silly these emotions of yours, hindering you from enjoying being a muse for the first time.

The bus stopped and the two of you exits the ride. You walked with Capitano as he led the way, coming to a halt some minutes later in front of a black gate. He looked at you before hitting the doorbell.

You brought a hand to caress your own face. Your skin isn't exactly clear, though you do not have many blemishes either.

You've always been confident of your appearance, and you didn't know why. Is it because you truly are indeed beautiful, or where you just blinded because of the praises you've heard?

Yet whenever you look in the mirror, you can't help but to see your image turning uglier each second. Is what you see in the mirror what you actually looked like?

You breathed in and out, wanting to mask the nervousness you're feeling. Faruzan is pretty, would the artist be disappointed upon seeing a face inferior to hers—

Forget about that, because you are the one disappointed right now...!

You regretted getting swayed with Faruzan's words. You even asked Mona for an advice to strengthen your decision, and she also said some motivating words similar to Faruzan.

What a load of bullshit, you shouldn't had listened!

Because it's fine, yes, it would be fine.

This trip could've turn out good just as your friends say— if not for the man standing before you! This... is he the artist?

The moment he opened the gate, you glared at him from head to toe, in which he responded with a roll of his eyes, turning his attention to Capitano instead.

The same shade of indigo that ruined your mood at the time you first entered the university, the blind-hater man!

Honestly, you could brush that off as just bad day for both of you which led to a stupid argument, but the bad impression lasted!

Whenever you see him around the campus, there's just this underlying vibes around him that ruins your mood. So even if you both ain't having a conversation, it's as if you are being brought back to that argument and you can't help but to feel the annoyance all over again.

And therefore strengthening the bad impression.

You followed after them as they entered his... kind of a huge house.

Of course, of course. Students at that goddamn university are rich, it's no wonder.

You eyed the interior, a minimalist design yet it looks extravagant due to the high-end materials. High ceilings, big chandeliers— his living room is grand and sophisticated space. The walls are in neutral colors, decorated with many paintings...

Oh.

Are these his works? They are... beautiful.

Not just beautiful, but breathtakingly beautiful.

Every pieces are paintings of abstracts and places, and there are no single painting of an image of a human.

The scenery looks realistic though, are portraits just not his forte? Or maybe he just didn't displayed them.

You got too absorbed at staring at them that Capitano had to tug you forward. His gentle hold brought you out of your reverie, continuing to follow after his friend.

"What even is his name?" You asked in a whisper.

"Oh right, you didn't get to be introduced properly." He nodded at himself, "Scaramouche is his name," then he called his friend's attention, "And she is [Name]."

...That turned awkward, just for you maybe. 'Scaramouche' just nodded his head and so did you.

When he opened another door, you almost drooled at the sight. Because why wouldn't you— it is his very own art studio inside his home! It's huge and definitely pleasing to look at. There are many paintings on the floor and some are hanging over the wall, all of the pieces are masterpiece! There are an unfinished sculpture of a head on one of the tables, charcoal drawings on paper, sketches of anatomy, movable wooden figure, and more.

Despite not liking him, you hold a respect to every artists. Not to mention, one look at his studio and you could tell he is talented...

You had to contain your excitement.

It's not like you're hiding that you are an (ex) artist, but you also do not want to show hints or tell that you are one, especially that you have nothing to show.

You would rather keep it that way, people not having an answer whether you are or not an artist— except for those who already know, of course.

"Pardon me, [Name]." You looked over to Capitano who has an apologetic expression on his face. "There happen to be an emergency, I'll leave you to Scaramouche's care."

You just nodded, Capitano had always been a busy man. You watched as he converse with the said man before he gave you a small wave, walking away.

"Stay here."

'Scaramouche' said, and you were left alone in his very own art studio.

You sat down on a stool, probably the seat he prepared for Faruzan. With a frown, you looked around.

Your heart raced as your eyes met your own pair of eyes, the full length mirror in front of you glinted in an ugly way.

You felt frozen in time. Is it because you would be exposed to an artist's eyes who would look at every detail of your appearance so he could draw it, the reason why you felt so bare in your own vision?

It was as if suddenly, you appear naked in front of everyone— drowning in their uncomfortable stares that ran through your insides.Your skin is getting ripped the more you stare at your own reflection, and you feel so exposed to the point that every nook of your face became visible in your eyes.

Since when this started, really? Where you no longer feel beautiful at every angle, as if your features are becoming distorted.

Ah, right. The people who compliments you are non-artists. You used to be one and yet you never drew yourself, and now you feel so imperfect and full of flaws. Maybe because you're aware of the truth.

Maybe this is why you've only became a muse now of an artist who had no choice but to draw you— you are indeed pretty, just not pretty enough that people wants to keep looking at you.

An art is supposed to be beautiful in every way, a masterpiece people enjoy looking at.

You, are not a piece worth staring at.

You are not designed to be a muse in the first place— and you no longer had the skills to paint.

Everyone is either an artist or the art, so now, where do you stand?

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note. im back yippiiieeee hello yall ^^

taglist. @veekoko @aeongiies @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @magica-ren @feiherp @beriiov @hiraethhv @kleej @eutopiastar @keiiqq @bananasquash @kuniisvt (i cant tag those in bold ;(()

[chilahh16]

" So what if it's us?"

Funny how all the expectations we have comes crumbling down - how the standard and type are erased with one simple truth. Max Verstappen would have laughed mockingly if someone had told him that no one has a type, that he would settle down for someone far from the standard that he has. Who was he to not gloat about someone of equal standing - attractive, hot, wealthy, and has a model-like body. He is a Formula 1 driver, a champion for goodness sake hence, he only needed the best of the best.

So imagine the surprise of himself, as well as everyone that had known him, how smitten he is of the present. He became so despairingly different from his past self - the man who was always in a relationship with women older than he is, the stoic, mad man that people made him out to be; the scarred man and the champion that he is was stooped to a stuttering mess in front of her.

She was always the simple one. Pants with plain shirt, summer dress and flats, and all things that screams plain. However, behind the plainness, an ethereal glow and elegance surround her. The genuine smile she always seem to wear brightens his day of bad and a simple gesture of congratulations always melt his heart. But she is someone Max could never dare touch nor would he think so.

He can still remember what Daniel had said when he caught him staring at her, ' She's not someone to be meddled with. She's far too pure for you, mate.' It sucked and it hurt because it was true. She really is like no other. That Y/n Albon, beloved sister of his friend and colleague, Alex Albon.

Their meeting was like every other. He saw her at the Singapore GP. Her entrance at the paddock with her brother caused heads to turn. Someone who thought she was Alex's new woman was dumb, and Max was that. He was not the gossip type but he gaped at them, unknowingly smacking Daniel's arm. He can still remember vividly the embarrassment he felt after knowing the truth. And it was at that day that he realized how precious she was. From the protective stance Alex had, the intentional close distance and the glare he sent away to men who stared longer than necessary proved his point. Because Alex knew that bringing his sister meant walking directly to the lion's lair. He knew of what his friends are, and as much as he can, he'll shield his sister of the fate many women fell to. Even the Daniel Ricciardo warned many that the woman is not a territory to trespass.

Hence, Max was dissolved to just watching from afar. Unlike everybody else, he cannot stand to have a conversation with the Albon woman. His vocabulary would always fail him and he envy the others that had shared her company. He had also come to hate how his other colleagues stare at her - like a prize after a treacherous battle. But one thing that had always bugged him is of how George sees her. Even of how mad others might think of him, he knew all too well the eyes that Russel has whenever he spoke with Y/n. The deep affection is palpable to everyone and he handles her with so much care that people would talk of his chivalry.

It was irritating. It irked him to no end.

But who was he to feel such when she is not his - to love, care, protect, and flaunt to the world. Truthfully, he was scared. Scared that being close to her would allow him to taint her genuineness. He is terrified of how his life could turn hers upside down. She's fragile in his eyes no matter how people whisper of the strong, independent woman that they came to love. Hence, he drowned himself in overthinking. The voices of his father and of the demons he kept at bay, ran rampage in his mind as they ridicule him of how he is a coward. How low he has come of falling for someone as common as she when the women before her can be called equal as him.

He let himself sway to the music of the rapid and messy ways of his life. He let himself sink into the ghost of fear and unattached himself completely to those raven orbs of hers that he could swim to. But how traitor life is. As he stood atop the VIP lounge enjoying the control of modern music blasting in the spacious club as the entire grid celebrated yet another win from him, his eyes wandered to the bodies on the dancefloor and it widened as he saw her awkwardly sitting behind the bar, nursing on something that he could tell was water. A smile made its way to his face as he saw how she does not fit in the setting. She's looking curiously to the people dancing sensually while making sure that Alex and his other friends are within sight.

Everything seemed to stop and he can only see her. Maybe what they said was true. Falling for the right person does things to someone, unexplainable. He did not even realize as he left the lounge and made way to her. He navigated his way amongst drunk and passionate people. He did not stray and as he stands behind her, all he could do was utter a dumb ' It's nice to see you here.'

" Huh?... Oh! Max, hi!" Y/n said surprised yet she smiled as she saw the face of his brother's friend.

" I'm sorry if I scared you. It's just..."

" No worries. It's nice to see another familiar face here. Al and Danny are over there if you're looking for them." She pointed towards the dancefloor, waving the man's concern.

" I- Actually... would you like to go outside to get some fresh air?" Max surprisingly questioned without so much stuttering.

He mentally patted his back for the sudden boost of confidence, as well as of the agreed nodding from Y/n.

" So, how come you're here? I mean, you know, you, here...um in a club." Max stuttered, deflating the boost of ego he had before they made it outside.

" Al brought me here. Since he cannot leave me alone at the hotel, he had to take me. It was just for an hour but seeing as he's enjoying himself, I just let him be. And congratulations on your win today." Y/n explained as they both sit on the sidewalk, a few feet away from the club, far enough to see when her brother comes out.

" Why do you seem so surprised that I'm here? Is it so obvious how awkward I was?" the woman shyly giggled.

Max nodded at that. It was indeed true, she does not fit in her brother's lifestyle. She that craves peace amongst all others, must stand in the spotlight as an extended part of being Alex Albon's sister. It was fun most times, she love the fans and the roar of the engine whenever it came to life, yet it is equally draining. The F1 world is chaotic, messy and full of drama. A driver's personal life is limited as his image demands the public to know. And Y/n does not like that. She has always been a private person - no socials or anything, and her pictures are only seen from her brother's account, or from Lily, family, and closest friends.

Max further realized the depths of how private Y/n truly is - how she values peace amongst all others, as they continue to converse. She was totally different, he deduced. Luxury does not appeal to her and she loves to have family and friends around for a get together.

All hesitations that he had before was washed away from how comfortable it is to speak with her. She is not just some pretty face like everybody else, she pairs it with a witty and bright mind. Even at 23 years old, she has a mature perception in life and he is weak for he fell so much more.

" I like you, you know." he breathed as he continue to stare at her, talking animatedly about something she is passionate about.

It shocked the hell out of him when she stopped talking and stared confused at him before a small smile grace her lips.

" I know. Danny and Lando had been telling me. Al was even furious when he heard it." she laughed at how his eyes turned saucer whilst his whole face turned cherry tomato.

Yet Y/n continued.

"Danny said that you've been watching like a hawk every time I'm around. He had teased me of how much you would run away whenever I am near."

Max did not know how to respond to that. He was always the confident type - though stoic but he knows his way with words. Yet now, his brain refused to form coherent sentences. Y/n saw it and she hummed thoughtfully before saying.

" You're a fine man, Max. No one would debate that. You have everything women desired and they flock around you everyday. So, I don't understand why you would like a plain, old simple me."

" You're right. But maybe it is that simplicity that I needed in my life." He countered, looking amongst the cars passing by.

" You'll bore yourself in the long run, you know."

" How can you decide that simplicity is boring?" Max challenged.

"I'm not. It's just...I'm different, Max. You see for yourself how unfit I am in my brother's lifestyle. I cannot forego with all the luxury. Too much riches suffocates me and I have nothing in my name except being Formula 1 driver, Alexander Albon's sister."

" Now that's where you're wrong." Max began as he gazed into the night.

" Everyone knows how you and Alex are two different people. Even when everyone does not see you...I see you clearly. I fell for the simple Y/n. The woman who wore the most plain of clothes. The one that cares and is kind to everyone. The one who lightens people's days. I see the Y/n who tops her class, the Y/n that loves architecture that she got a degree for it. I only see the Y/n as Y/n and not as a sister to my colleague."

" You know, you sound sappy right?" Y/n remarked that earned a laugh from the man beside her.

But she knew, even when the Max Verstappen avoided looking directly at her, she saw the sincerity in his eyes as it gleamed in the evening light. People were wrong. There was no mad Max at all. Because looking at the man beside her, Y/n only saw a man so sincere while bearing the scars that has yet to heal. She saw Max and not the Max.

As they bask in the warmth of each other, the silence breathe life to the words unsaid, to the scars and insecurities they bear. And as they leaned towards each other, the voices that ridiculed and made fun of Max fell silent.

" You're more than what they say you are, Max Verstappen. You're genuine." Y/n muttered in the silent night, earning a confused hum from the Dutch.

" People named you Mad Max though I see no light to such title. In my time attending Grand Prix's, I have heard the stories and the hushed whispers. I saw you get angry before but, I failed to see how they called you mad. You, however, looked torn. And I seem to have an idea now."

" You do?"

" Yes. We may not have conversed much before but looking at the now, I see how tough you are on yourself. How you drag yourself to be the best. How you showed to everyone that nothing can sway the hard exterior that you built...I have nothing to say that would excuse what had happened before in your life but, you're enough, you know. Champion or not. You deserve every good thing in life."

The confidence that came when Y/n said it stirred something in him. He has heard every gruesome thing growing up. From the terrible childhood trauma to the disgust of people who hate to see him win. He took everything with head held high hence, he wondered why he has his head hang low when he heard that 'he's enough'. Maybe it was because she's one of the people who made him believe that he is not so bad himself. Apart from his mother and sister, she actually see the boy with his demons. And he realized at that moment, there is no going back. The woman beside him is someone he knew he needed. Like how he need air to breathe, how he sought to win the championship every season. He really does like her -no, scratch that, he love her.

" Thank you for keeping me company, Max. I had a great time." Y/n said as she got up from leaning at him, eyes trained outside the club as her brother, along with Danny and Lando stumbled drunkenly towards them.

She walked towards Alex as Max slowly got up from his sitting. That's when Lando saw him. The Brit wasted no time in jumping towards the Dutch man. Slurring in his laugh as he relish in the company of friends. Max was unable to say anything more as Y/n guided Alex to his car. He traced every curve of her face as the worry for her brother's well-being got the better of her. How he would love to be at the receiving end of such worry if it came from her. But it can never be. And Daniel saw the longing from his eyes even with his intoxicated self.

He pity his friend. It makes him somber to know that even with clear reciprocation of the love he has for the woman, he cannot act upon such feelings with how his situation is looking. Daniel knows that Max is a just fool. He will never jeopardize others happiness for his. He is a taken man and it further solidified the truthfulness of the situation as his girlfriend,Kelly, walked out the club's door and towards the Dutch. She latch herself to him, marking her territory and making a statement that he is hers.

And as Daniel looked at Y/n, pain was also present in the Albon woman's eyes as she had it trained on the hands that held Max. Envy was a feeling she hated but it overpowered everything in that moment. She hated herself for feeling such. She already crossed the line when she agreed to come outside - though nothing major happened, but she felt herself go greedy for him. She felt disgusted at the thought that came around. How low of her to have feelings for a man taken and has been responsible for a beautiful growing child.

Y/n will not be wicked as to strip Penelope of a father figure. She will take the bitter pill for life just to ensure the child is growing in an environment with peace and love.

" Let's get you back, Al." was all she said without so much as looking back at him.

' Look at me.'

Y/n was unable to see the desperate look on Max as he followed her figure. If only she had turned to look, just once, she would have seen the depths of the feelings he had and the realization that was evident in his eyes. Maybe they could act on the feelings they try so hard to hide, but there was no chance at all. Not for them. Not at this time. Even with the confession that was laid bare, both Y/n and Max could not find it in themselves relief. Everything was weighing them down and neither know how to proceed from this. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe they are passing character in each other's stories, but it still hurts. Because they both know the truth, they love each other so much that they wil take the hurt themselves so others can be happy. And Y/n smiled bitterly at the thought, unaware of the look her brother gave her.

Indeed it was true, loving him hurts just as equally as he loves her.

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

silly goose | kwon soonyoung

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii we're back baby. genre is: crack. fake dating sort of. friends to ??? basically in love i guess. everyone is an idiot and it's awesome. warnings: reader is implied to be female, wears a dress, does hair and makeup, reader is briefly followed in a menacing kind of way, soonyoung is literally the most dumbest man ever but in the BEST way, reader's friends are quite honestly the actual worst, there is a rather frightening animal encounter that's mostly just funny but could be triggering if you're afraid of birds, lmk if there's anything else i forgot!!! word count: 8.3k

If one was to look up the definition of disappointment, you’re almost positive they’d see a picture of your mom’s face if she ever found out you were in this situation. You’re disappointed in yourself. It was never your plan to be in a loud, crowded club, smushed up against the bar by two large bikers who are bouncing up and down to the beat of the music so that the spikes on the back of the taller one’s jacket get dangerously close to your eyeball. And yet, here you are.

You desperately search the room for the group of very tipsy women you came here with, but they’re nowhere to be found. Scowling, you start to inch out from behind the bikers into a slightly more open space, but even with your improved vantage point, you don’t see them. You curse. Did they really leave you here?

It’s hard for you to understand why you were even invited to this bachelorette party. The bride is your childhood best friend, but you’ve been out of touch for years. Your lives went in completely different directions after high school, clearly evidenced by the predicament in which you currently find yourself. Where you had never been the life of the party, she seemed to have no life without a party. You found yourself wishing for the thousandth time you could be at home with your books and your remote and your cat.

You decide there’s nothing for it and head outside to try and call your friend. She picks up on the third ring, and her voice is slurred and barely distinguishable over the cacophony of sound in the background of the call. You think she’s saying that they’re taking a bus to a bar across town -- about an hour away from where you are now. To get there, you’d have to call a cab and pay almost $100, or you could walk to your apartment, which is three blocks from here. “I’m going to go home,” you tell her, and she laughs and agrees and hangs up.

You grimace at your phone screen and shiver slightly. It’s a chilly night, and you didn’t bring a jacket, so you decide it’s best if you start walking. The way home is well-lit and relatively crime free, so you aren’t nervous as you set off from the club. 

That is, until you notice someone is tailing you. He’s a taller man, with scruffy facial hair and red-rimmed eyes that scare you. As you glance over your shoulder, he calls after you. “Where are you headed?” he asks.

“Going to meet my boyfriend,” you claim, desperately trying to shake him off. He seems to be picking up speed, slowly gaining on you as you walk, and as you round a corner you see a group of three well-dressed men standing in front of the movie theater just ahead. “That’s him right there,” you say, pointing at them, and the man trailing after you only picks up his speed, so you make the risky choice to jog toward them and grab ahold of the nearest man’s arm. He has his back toward you, but as you wrap your hand around his bicep, he turns to look at you.

Oh, wow, you think. Because you couldn’t have chosen a hotter man to pretend to be your boyfriend -- unless, of course, you were to have chosen either of his friends. It was strange to be surrounded by so many extremely attractive men, almost like interrupting a model meetup. But you quickly recover, smiling at the man whose arm you grabbed and saying, “Hi, honey.”

You try to communicate with your eyes, and though the man at first looks confused, he glances over your head and sees the man who’d been following you and his eyes light with understanding. “Hello, muffin!” he shouts far too loudly. 

You wince. Muffin? you think to yourself. But still, you can’t help but be amused as he puts an arm around you and sends an angry look at the man. “This is my girlfriend,” he yells at him.

“You’re being way too obvious, dude,” one of your fake boyfriend’s friends hisses at him. 

“I call BS,” the stalker says, to your horror and surprise. “What’s her name?”

“Mildred,” your fake boyfriend says with no hesitation. 

You try not to let the shock of this answer register on your face. 

The stalker hesitates. “Is he really your boyfriend, Mildred?”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. “Uh, yep.”

“Oh, okay then,” the stalker says. The three of you stare at each other for awhile before he turns around and leaves. 

“I cannot believe that worked,” one of your fake boyfriend’s friends says, smacking his forehead. 

“Remind me never to call you in a crisis,” the other one says, chuckling.

“What do you mean?” your fake boyfriend says indignantly. He looks at you, as though wanting your opinion, his arms still around you. “I feel like we nailed that.”

You can’t help but smile at him. He really is unfairly pretty, with perfectly tousled black hair, an artful slit in one eyebrow, and a smile that has you wondering if maybe you do believe in love at first sight. “Thanks for helping me out,” you say, so you don’t have to lie and agree that he nailed it. “Do I really look like a Mildred, though?”

“Mildred is a lovely name,” he says matter-of-factly. “And you are lovely.”

You laugh, feeling a little hot around the collar. “And what’s your name?” you ask him, holding out your hand for him to shake.

He takes it and shakes it with a warm smile. “I’m Soonyoung,” he says. He releases you from his grip with a small shake, as though reminding himself to do it. As if he’d gotten lost in you for a second.

“Soonyoung,” you repeat. “And your friends?”

“Seungkwan,” the shorter of the two others says.

“Seokmin,” the taller one replies. 

“Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Seokmin,” you chant. “Well, thanks so much for your help, guys. I need to get home to my cat.”

“By yourself?” Seokmin says in a worried tone.

“In the dark?” Seungkwan follows, equally worried.

“Without a jacket?” Soonyoung says, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Well...” you say. “It’s not very far.”

“How far?” Seungkwan asks.

You hesitate. “How do I know you’re not serial killers?”

They all blink at you. “Us?” Seokmin asks.

“We’re idiots,” Soonyoung says sincerely. 

They all nod in agreement. “Seriously. If we were serial killers, we’d be caught in no time,” Seungkwan says.

“Let us walk you home,” Soonyoung insists. “I want to meet your cat.”

You’re still a bit nervous, but they keep a respectful distance as they walk you down the next two and a half blocks to your apartment building. You quickly realize that they weren’t lying. 

They are actually idiots.

The entire fifteen minute walk, Seungkwan and Seokmin are arguing about whether or not tomatoes are a fruit, culminating in Soonyoung opining that if tomatoes are a fruit, ketchup is a smoothie. The other two are (understandably) outraged by this, leaving you comforted that you actually could probably take all three of them in a fight at once, seeing as how they all seem to share one single brain cell. 

There’s something so endearing about their banter, though. So much so that when you finally arrive at the apartment, you find yourself asking if they want to come in for a minute and escape the chilly weather.

“Are you sure?” Seokmin asks.

“Positive. I have some instant ramen we could make, too. Just to warm you up. As a thank you for getting me home safe.”

They look at each other and then nod. “We’d love to,” Seungkwan says. 

So you lead them up to your door on the third floor. “Your apartment is so cute!” Soonyoung exclaims, admiring the pretty crocheted decorations that line your walls. “I love these.”

“Thanks,” you say. “I made them.”

He looks at you in awe. “You did? That’s so cool!”

“I’m glad you think so,” you say with a smile. 

“What do you do for work?” Soonyoung asks you.

“I’m a social worker,” you tell him. “I work with families in tough situations. Help them get their feet under them.”

“Do you work for the government, then?” asks Seungkwan.

“Make yourself at home,” you tell the three of them, who are standing awkwardly in the entry. As they settle onto the couch, you explain, “I actually work for a subcontractor of the government. We’re a nonprofit. On weekends, we also do a soup kitchen, and help run food banks throughout the county.”

“That must be very fulfilling work,” Seokmin points out. “Do you like it? I hear it can be tiring.”

“It’s good, but I don’t get paid enough,” you admit. “And before you ask, I do have a roommate. She’s just in the hospital. Appendicitis.”

They all wince, and Seungkwan hums sympathetically. You head to your pantry and rummage around looking for the instant ramen, finally locating it and putting a pan on the stove with water. Meanwhile, the guys find your box full of games and pull out the Monopoly. “We should play this!” Seokmin says. 

Seungkwan laughs. “We just met her, and you already want to ruin our friendship?”

Soonyoung pulls out a deck of cards. “How about Scum?”

The three of them set up the game while you make the ramen, and by the time you’re all served up all the cards have been dealt. You watch them over your own bowl of ramen, amused at the gusto with which they eat and heartwarmed by their compliments. You’re generally a bit of an introvert, but even you have been lonely the past few days with your roommate gone, and the unexpected company is warm, inviting, and friendly.

Until Scum begins. Unbeknownst to you, this group of three is the most cutthroat, merciless group of players who have ever lived. Their competition knows no bounds, and they seem determined to destroy each other, by whatever means necessary. “Don’t worry,” Seokmin whispers conspiratorially to you while Soonyoung and Seungkwan argue tooth-and-nail about a minor rule of the game. “They’re always like this, but they really do love each other.”

It takes all of them by surprise when you are the first to get rid of your cards, guaranteeing you the “king” spot. “That came out of nowhere!” complains Seungkwan.

You shrug. “I’m good with strategy games. Never challenge me to a game of Settlers of Catan,” you joke. 

Just then, your cat pokes his head around the corner and mewls reproachfully at all the noise you’re making. “Hi!” Soonyoung says excitedly, quickly dropping his cards to head over to the cat, making little cooing noises at him as he strokes his soft orange fur. “What’s its name?”

“He’s a he,” you tell him. “And his name is Tiger.”

The three men all freeze and look at you. “What?” you ask, looking around at them in worry.

“No way,” Soonyoung breathes.

Seungkwan groans. “You’ve really done it now.”

“What did I do?” you ask, bewildered.

“That’s like, the forbidden word,” Seokmin says, his tone apologetic.

Your eyes land on Soonyoung, whose entire face has lit up. “I love tigers,” he says, looking on the verge of tears.

“Love is an understatement,” Seungkwan says. “He is about to ask for your hand in marriage.”

“Will you marry me?” Soonyoung asks immediately afterward, making you laugh. His hands are still gently cupping Tiger’s face, his thumbs rubbing the cat’s fur back tenderly.

“I barely know you, Soonyoung,” you remind him. “You’ll have to pretend to be my boyfriend a couple more times before I’ll agree to marriage.”

“Bet,” Soonyoung says. “This cat needs a father. There’s nothing sadder than a fatherless cat.”

You privately disagreed, but it makes you laugh again all the same. “When am I ever going to need you to pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Soonyoung tsks. “I’m sure we could think of something.”

But almost as soon as you’d asked the question, you remembered: the wedding.

Your friend’s wedding -- the one who’d abandoned you tonight. And the one who, against your wishes, had invited your horrible ex-boyfriend. You’d had a plus-one — your roommate, who you’d enlisted to make the entire event endurable. But last-minute, her sister had needed help babysitting her daughter while she went to a divorce hearing on the day of the wedding. The wedding was in two weeks, and you didn’t have a backup date. 

Soonyoung watches in satisfaction as your face falls. “Tell me,” he says. “How can I be of service?”

“Well…you can say no,” you preface, and he chuckles. “But...” 

You launch into the story of the night. Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin listen well throughout it, making noises of exasperation and annoyance as you explain why you’d had to interrupt their evening by pretending to be Soonyoung’s girlfriend. “They really left you there?” Soonyoung asks, frowning. He seems to tire of crouching by Tiger, so he sits crosslegged on the ground. You watch carefully as Tiger gingerly climbs into Soonyoung’s lap -- something it took him almost a year to do with you. Tiger is an affectionate and social cat, but he does take some time to warm up, usually. But something about Soonyoung seems to have put him at ease. Soonyoung doesn’t even seem to notice, absently massaging his fingers into Tiger’s neck fur.

“They really did,” you finally reply, oddly touched by the sight of Soonyoung with your cat.

“You need better friends,” Seungkwan says indignantly.

You give him a weak smile. “You’re probably right about that. But I already said I’d go, and they’ve planned for me. So it’d be bad to back out now.” You sigh. “It would be so nice to have someone to go with who’s friendly. And you can totally say no if that’s too much awkwardness to put up with for an evening.”

“Well, I have no problems with going if it means I get to spend more time with your cat in between now and then,” Soonyoung says, tickling Tiger’s stomach and giggling as Tiger swats at his fingers.

“You can always come see my cat whenever you want,” you promise him. “Even if you say no.”

“Really?” he asks, sounding thrilled. “I mean, I’m saying yes, though.”

You let out a deep breath. “Thank you so much. You’re such a lifesaver.”

“I know. Imagine the poor decisions this cat would’ve made if I hadn’t decided to be his dad.”

“I resent the implication that I am a horrible mother who can’t raise a cat to be a good citizen who makes positive contributions to society.”

“Yeah, you psycho, respect this single mother!” Seungkwan says, smacking Soonyoung’s arm.

“Well, you’re partially right,” you admit with a laugh. “Tiger is a war criminal with warrants in 32 countries.”

Soonyoung laughs as well. “See! Fatherless behavior.”

“Plenty of cats grow up to be respectable without fathers,” you say indignantly. “Just not Tiger. He’s possessed of a devil.”

The four of you all have a good laugh about this, while Tiger chirps indignantly at the sudden sound, clambering out of Soonyoung’s lap and darting down the hallway. “Traitor!” Soonyoung calls after him, heading back to the card table to finish playing. 

By the time the trio bows themselves out of your apartment, you feel warm and sleepy. It’s been a long time since you’ve had people over to your house and enjoyed it — you had forgotten how nice it was.

******

“Hey there,” you greet your friend Ginger, who waves at you from her hospital bed. 

“Hi,” she says back. “How was the bachelorette party?”

“A complete disaster, as predicted,” you tell her, pulling up a chair next to her bed. “When are you coming home?”

“Tonight, if things go well,” she informs you. “But you said you had something to tell me. Is it good or bad?”

“It’s good,” you say with a shy smile.

“How good?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Like, weird-good.”

“Explain.”

“I found a date for tomorrow.”

Her eyes go wide. “You caught someone’s eye? During the bachelorette party?”

“No, after. Well, actually, the guy whose eye I caught was a total creep. But then I forced a different dude to be my fake boyfriend to shake off the first dude, and he agreed to be my date to the wedding.”

“Is he gonna pretend to be your boyfriend there too?” she asks, a suggestive edge to her voice.

“I don’t think so. I mean, we just talked about him coming with me so I wouldn’t have to go alone.”

“How did that even come up?” she asks you.

“Well, they kind of walked me home...”

“They?”

“There were three of them initially,” you explain apologetically.

“You let three random strangers walk you home?”

“Well, they openly admitted to being idiots when I asked if they were serial killers, so I thought it was probably safe.”

“You’re an idiot,” Ginger says dryly.

“Anyway, Soonyoung -- the one who’s gonna be my date -- wanted to meet Tiger. Because he loves tigers. And then it kind of devolved into playing Scum, and then Soonyoung claimed that if he just spent more time with Tiger he’d stop committing dastardly crimes every chance he gets. And then he asked if I’d need a fake boyfriend so that he could help me raise my cat right, and it was this whole thing, and now that I’m telling you the story it sounds really dumb but it was kind of sweet.”

Ginger is staring at you with raised eyebrows during this whole account. When you finally clam up, she sighs. “So, I hate to be the person to have to tell you this, but Soonyoung is actually in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp. “Why do you think that?”

“He is using your cat to get closer to you because he’s too scared to really ask you out because he really likes you.”

“I’m not sure that’s true. You should’ve seen his face when he heard the cat was named Tiger.”

Ginger rolls her eyes. “Girl, I know more about men than I care to admit. This is textbook crush behavior.” She grunts as she adjusts her position. “And I think you like him back, too.”

“I barely know him,” you protest, heat rising in your cheeks.

“Is he hot?” she asks shrewdly.

“Yes,” you answer, without hesitation or even a single iota of forethought. You cringe at your own obviousness, and Ginger laughs.

“It’s okay,” she reassures. “But how hot?”

You consider for a while before answering. “It’s hard to describe,” you complain, feeling more and more uncomfortable the longer it takes. “He’s...pretty.”

“A pretty boy?” Ginger repeats.

“No, like, he doesn’t look dainty -- but he’s not rugged or anything. But he doesn’t exactly look soft either. But he’s not quite all the way to edgy.” You realize you’re rambling once you catch sight of Ginger’s face.

Ginger shakes her head. “You’re a goner,” she sighs.

Conveniently, your phone starts buzzing before you can respond -- not that you really had a response anyway. It’s an unknown number, but you decide to answer it. “Hello?” you say. 

“Hi,” a familiar voice chirps on the other end. Your eyes go wide, and you mouth “Soonyoung” to Ginger, who is observing curiously.

“Hi!!!” you respond back, and then wince -- you were a little too eager, and Ginger makes a face at you too. You resolve to be much cooler going forward, and take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“Hi,” he says again, this time sounding amused. “What’s up?”

“Hi. Um, nothing much,” you reply. “What’s up with you?” Wow, what a zinger! you think to yourself. Why did you choose this moment to become an awkward fumbling mess?

“Well, I’m near your apartment, and I was wondering if you were home. I missed Tiger, you see.”

“Ah,” you say. “Well, um, I’m actually...out right now?” Your voice raises a few notes too high at the end of your phrase, and Ginger is pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation, trying to fight back a laugh.

“Ah, that’s bad luck. Where are you?” Soonyoung asks.

“I’m just visiting my roommate in the hospital,” you say, confused as Ginger frantically shakes her head and makes an X with her hands. 

“Tell him you were just leaving and you’ll be there soon,” she hisses, pushing you with her foot off of her hospital bed. 

“Oh, how is she doing?” Soonyoung asks. “Is she feeling better?”

“She’s absolutely fine,” you grunt, trying to fend off Ginger’s attacks and failing, slumping off the bed onto the floor. “I was actually on my way home, though. Do you have time to wait?” You stand and snatch your bag from off the small table in the room and stick your tongue out at Ginger, who blows you a kiss and waves enthusiastically as you leave.

“Yes,” Soonyoung responds immediately. “Actually, are you hungry? I brought some chicken.”

“I’m actually starving,” you answer honestly. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

True to your word, you sprint all the way out of the hospital and almost all the way home, stopping around the corner to your place to try and catch your breath and look cool when you see Soonyoung. Ginger’s words bounce around your brain in a disconcerting way, and you feel like you’re sweaty and flustered in a way that no amount of time stalling could really fix. So you decide to just bite the bullet and turn the corner. 

You can see Soonyoung waiting at the door to your apartment building. When he catches sight of you, his whole face lights up in a smile. And oh, what a smile it is. You have to physically restrain yourself from squealing at how obscenely adorable he is -- his eyes softening into crescents, his cheeks going all round and his nose scrunching just slightly. You can’t help but smile back as you finally reach him. “Hey,” you say, going for a breezy, cool vibe and missing the mark embarrassingly.

“Hi,” Soonyoung says, and to your comfort, he sounds just as eager as you did on the phone. “Um, how was the walk?”

“It was great! Super chill, super lowkey,” you lie through your teeth, thinking about how you had sprinted in a very not-chill, not-lowkey way to come see him. 

“That’s good!” he exclaims back.

“What were you doing near my house?” you ask, leading him toward the door.

“Oh, well, actually, I had to go visit this restaurant my friend works at,” he says, stuttering a little. “And he actually made extra chicken, so I thought -- well, and I knew you lived close by, so I thought it would be fun if we...I don’t know, got to know each other before the wedding?” He shrugs cutely. 

“You can just say you wanted to see my cat,” you tease, pressing the elevator button.

“I did, on the phone,” he reminds you.

“Oh,” you say.

“Oh,” he replies.

The two of you stare at each other for a minute.

Then, Soonyoung says, “Why are we so awkward?”

He doesn’t sound worried -- he even has a laugh in his voice. And for some reason, the easiness with which he addresses the strange tension in the air seems to dissipate it a bit. 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a laugh. “I’m not very good with surprises. I never know how to react. But I’m very glad you’re here.” Finally, the sincerity of the words shines through, and though you normally would’ve been embarrassed at the admission, you aren’t.

He smiles that brilliant smile yet again, and your heart does a little happy-dance in your chest. “Me too,” he replies fervently. 

“What do you do for work?” you ask him as the two of you board the elevator. “I never asked, before.”

“Oh, that. I’m actually a kindergarten teacher,” he tells you.

You are gobsmacked at this information. “You don’t look like a teacher,” you tell him.

“Oh yeah? What do I look like?” he asks, striking a ridiculous pose. 

You giggle. “A rockstar, maybe. Or a band manager.”

“Thank you, I think,” Soonyoung says.

“You’re welcome,” you say with emphasis. “It was a compliment.”

The two of you chat aimlessly all the way into your apartment, where Soonyoung immediately starts calling for Tiger. “Your daddy’s home,” he bellows into the empty apartment. “Where are you, son?”

You absolutely know the neighbors must have heard him, but your brief embarrassment is soothed when Tiger comes tearing around the corner, coming to a screeching halt at Soonyoung’s feet. “He never does that,” you say, in awe of this overt affection from your normally skittish-around-strangers cat. 

“He knows who I am,” Soonyoung says, bending down to pick up Tiger and cradle him in his arms like a baby. “My son,” he coos, tickling his belly and laughing when Tiger bats at his fingers with his paws.

You catch yourself before Soonyoung can tear his attention away from Tiger, knowing you were probably staring at them with heart-eyes. Shaking yourself, you open the box of chicken Soonyoung left on the counter. “Do you mind? I actually haven’t eaten today.”

Soonyoung’s gaze snaps to you. “It’s like four in the afternoon!” he exclaims indignantly. “What do you mean, you haven’t eaten today?”

“Well, I woke up kind of late, and then I was running around doing important errands, and then I had to go see my friend,” you explain. “I kind of forgot.”

He tsks in annoyance. “Well, you need to take care of yourself too. How am I supposed to co-parent this cat with you if you pass away from malnutrition?”

“You are so dramatic,” you laugh. “This doesn’t happen very often. I promise I’m a regular eater.”

He eyes you suspiciously. “Okay. You’d better be.”

You dig into the chicken while you watch Soonyoung play with Tiger. “Holy cow!” you exclaim. “This is amazing.”

“I’ll tell my friend you said so. You should go to his restaurant, it’s right across the street from you.”

“I definitely will,” you say, taking a seat at the table and patting the chair next to you. “But I think it’s time for your interview.”

“Interview?” he asks.

You nod. “I’m not about to just let the first cat-loving man I come across be Tiger’s father. I need to see if you’re prepared for the role.”

So Soonyoung, giving you a cautious look, comes to sit beside you with Tiger trotting after him. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask him.

“That’s hardly a standard interview question,” he protests, laughing. 

“This is hardly a standard interview,” you shoot back. “Now tell me.”

He thinks for a minute. “Black and white.”

“Hmm, interesting,” you muse, but before you can go any further, he raises a hand.

“How about you?” he asks.

“I’m asking the questions!” you say indignantly, and he chuckles.

“Okay, but shouldn’t I know my son’s mother?” He makes a face. “That sounded weird. You know what I meant.”

You stare at him, considering, for awhile before answering. “Orange,” you finally reply. Then, in a teasing tone, you add, “Like a tiger.” 

“You’re joking,” Soonyoung insists, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide. 

“I’m actually not,” you admit. “And can I confess something else: tigers are easily in my top five favorite animals.”

“Well, anything lower than number one is just bad taste,” Soonyoung claims, grinning.

“Ah, well, I guess we can’t all have entirely correct opinions,” you sigh. “Except you, of course.”

“You’re such a fast learner,” Soonyoung praises.

And on the conversation goes. Usually, when talking to someone as pretty as Soonyoung is, you find yourself tongue-tied and awkward, but talking with Soonyoung is as easy as breathing. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the man seems to have no idea how gorgeous he is -- he doesn’t take himself too seriously, and is incredibly silly in a way most men of his level of attractiveness aren’t willing to be. And he makes you feel smart and interesting, appearing just as fascinated by your answers as you are with his.

Over the course of your conversation, you learn that Soonyoung is close with his mother; he loves all animals; he befriends strangers on public transportation and is a caring and loyal friend to so many people he can hardly keep track of them all. He can’t drink very well, he gets sad late at night, and when you ask him what he’s most proud of, he tells you that he always knows who the killer is in a game of mafia.

Try as you might to discover any red flags that would disqualify Soonyoung as the perfect father for your cat, your interview proves quite the opposite. The less-than-rational wing of your mind-palace is already picking out your wedding colors for the inevitable moment you marry this man. The less feral part of your mind is, surprisingly, cautiously optimistic. For all your reservations about dating, Soonyoung has proven someone you very much enjoy getting to know.

After several hours, the two of you arrive at the first lull in the conversation, when your laughs fade out and you just look at each other, electricity charging the air. Soonyoung breaks the silence. “So, did I get the job?”

You pretend to deliberate for a single second. “Absolutely,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake.

He throws his arms around you instead. “We’re actually married now, and married people hug,” he explains.

You giggle nervously, despite the growing heat in your face. “I don’t remember you proposing today,” you scold him lightly, still hugging.

“The one from last night is still valid,” he says, breaking apart. “Honey,” he adds as an afterthought.

Just then, your phone rings. You answer it quickly, rushing to your bedroom to take the call. After a few minutes, you return to the kitchen apologetically. “It’s work,” you tell Soonyoung. “A situation came up with a client.”

“Do you need to leave now?” Soonyoung asks, jumping up. “Can I give you a ride?”

You shake your head. “It’s actually an hour drive and I’m not supposed to bring people who aren’t privy to the case. But — well, Tiger usually gets fed around 8 pm, and I don’t think I’ll be back by then. Would you be okay to do that? If not it’s totally fine, I can call my sister-in-law to do it.”

Soonyoung beams. “Of course. Can I wait for you to get home?”

You blink. “Soonyoung, it’ll be at least four hours from now. Probably more. We’re talking past midnight.”

“No school tomorrow,” Soonyoung reminds you, shrugging. “Plus, a group of friends invited me out to drink tonight, and I didn’t really want to go. Now I’ve got an excuse.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “You are genuinely the best,” you say, going to him and wrapping him up in your arms. “Thanks.”

He seems taken aback by your sudden hug, but responds all the same. “Be safe on your way to work,” he says softly in your ear, raising goosebumps on the back of your neck, and you steal one final look at him before leaving.

******

By the time you get home, it’s nearly one in the morning. As you slump tiredly against the steering wheel of your car before going in, you check your phone and find several missed calls from Ginger. It is only then you remember she was scheduled to come home today, and more than likely did — to Soonyoung. 

You race up to your apartment and open the door. Sure enough, curled up on the couch with Tiger is Soonyoung. He’s fast asleep, his cheek squished against the firm cushion, Tiger keeping vigil at his stomach. Tiger meows reproachfully as you come in, taking quiet steps to Ginger’s room. She’s resting with her back against the headboard, but she opens her eyes at the sound of her door. 

“So, I came home to a man in my house,” she says expectantly. “That was crazy.”

“Yeah. We had a runaway situation that I had to figure out, and Soonyoung stayed to feed Tiger and make sure I got home okay,” you explain softly, not wanting to wake Soonyoung.

“I’m so glad he’s not a serial killer,” Ginger whispers. “He was very attentive. Kept checking on me and asking if I needed anything.”

“He did?” you ask, your heart in your throat. 

“He seems like a tender little guy,” Ginger says, watching you carefully.

“He does,” is your simple reply. You can’t trust yourself to speak without crying.

******

Soonyoung ended up accidentally sleeping over that night. In the morning, the three of you — Soonyoung, Ginger, and yourself — spent a fractionally awkward but mostly pleasant morning breakfasting together before Soonyoung insisted it was time for him to shower. After that day, he dropped by frequently. 

Sometimes he would stay for just twenty minutes, dropping off a book or visiting Tiger. Occasionally he’d bring by an ingredient for a dinner you were making, and you made it a habit to invite him to join on those occasions. The easy conversation between the two of you became an easy friendship, bursting with silliness and laughter and acceptance of each other’s quirks. You felt more and more like your real self around him. Which was crazy, especially given how thoroughly and extremely smitten with him you are.

It had taken you less than a week to realize your feelings. You’d expected to start feeling uncomfortable around Soonyoung, but for some reason, he just made it so clear that he cared about you that you didn’t even worry about if he liked you or not.

You reflect on this as you drive to your friend’s house to get ready before the wedding. You’re nervous about how this whole day will go, but the promise of seeing Soonyoung later makes it all worth it. In fact, just the thought of him being with you seems to calm your nerves and make it easier to face the day. 

You mostly keep to yourself with the bustle of getting ready. The soft pink dresses the bride picked as your bridesmaids’ dresses are not your normal style or color, but you like how the sleek satin fabric looks on you. It pairs well with your minimal hairstyle and makeup. Before you know it, it’s time for you to go get Soonyoung.

When he opens the door, his face breaks into a huge smile. “You look beautiful!” he exclaims, covering his mouth with both hands. 

“You look so handsome!” you reply, looking him up and down. He looks amazing in his black suit, white shirt, and black tie. 

“You’re not supposed to outshine the bride,” Soonyoung says sternly. “I don’t think they’ll let us in.”

“Stop it,” you say, flustered. 

“I’m serious,” Soonyoung insists. 

“Well, if they don’t let us in, I think I’d prefer that,” you say honestly.

“I’m actually excited,” Soonyoung admits. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“Even though my friends are...”

“Kind of awful? Yeah, I’m not worried about it.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I’m not planning on paying them any attention at all,” Soonyoung says simply, his eyes fixed on you. And as he helps you into the driver’s seat, you can’t help but smile.

The wedding is a lavish affair. After the complicated wedding ceremony, where you stood at the farthest distance from the bride and had a hard time tearing your eyes away from Soonyoung, who stared at you the whole time, he whisks you away to your dinner table. 

“Did you enjoy the ceremony?” you ask as Soonyoung pulls out your chair for you to sit down. 

“It was quite a view,” he teases lightly as he sits beside you.

You know what he really meant, and you give him a shy half-smile before replying, “It sure is beautiful out here!” You gesture around at the venue, which is gorgeous — a beautiful private property with loads of land, and a gazebo on the banks of a large pond, where the ceremony took place.

Soonyoung scoffs. “Well, yeah, but you seem determined to miss my point.” Nonchalantly, he slips a hand onto your knee, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. “I’m flirting with you.”

“Oh, are you?” you ask, feigning surprise. “I hadn’t noticed.” But in reality, it’s impossible to stop yourself from beaming. 

“Well, we are married,” Soonyoung says, his hand sliding across your knee to find your hand. He tangles his fingers with yours. “I think it comes with the territory.”

“If you say that too loud, you’re going to make people think it’s true,” you joke.

“Let them think that,” he says, his eyes trained on you in a way that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. You squeeze his hand and look away, slightly panicked.

Your eyes land below the table. “I like your shoes,” you blurt.

Soonyoung looks down at his plain black loafers. “These are like, my least interesting pair of shoes,” he points out with a sly grin.

“Well, you’re an interesting man,” you say, trying to recover but feeling flustered all the same. “What are your most interesting pair of shoes?”

“I’ll give you one guess.”

“The only thing I can count on is that they’re tiger-related,” you reply, grateful for this subject shift.

Soonyoung nods. “Calvin and Hobbes Air Force Ones,” he confirms proudly. “I should’ve worn them.”

“You would have made the bride angry.”

“That makes me want to wear them even more,” Soonyoung grumbles.

“What’s your beef with my friends?” you ask him lightly, absently trailing one of your hands over his arm.

He leans in to almost-whisper the answer. “They left you vulnerable when they should have been taking care of you, and that bothers me.”

You’re taken aback by how serious the usually silly Soonyoung sounds, but before you have a chance to respond, the music starts, heralding the arrival of the new Mr. And Mrs. You take the moment of cheering and applause to breathe deeply and steady your trembling hands. This is Soonyoung, you remind yourself. You don’t need to be nervous around him.

You’ve sufficiently pulled yourself together by the time you have Soonyoung’s attention again. “So, what will you do after the wedding is over?” you ask him, trying to keep the new, flirty side of him locked away.

“That’s an amazing question that I actually was going to ask you. Do you wanna watch a movie?” he asks.

“Well, my place is empty tonight, so that sounds kind of fun,” you admit, not sure you fully succeeded at not flirting. 

“Perfect,” he says. “So, what are you in the mood for? Action? Horror? Romcom?”

“How about…a wholesome sports movie? Those are my favorite genre of movies.”

“Really?” he asks with interest. “This surprises me about you.”

The conversation settles into its normal easy rhythm — all through dinner, you talk and laugh and enjoy each other’s company. When the dancing starts, you allow Soonyoung to pull you into his arms on the dance floor, following his lead in a smooth trot-step. “You’re a good dancer,” you observe.

“I teach kid’s dance classes on the side,” he admits. “It’s my night job.”

“Ah, and here I was, thinking you probably did pole-dancing after hours,” you tease.

“I know you’re not serious, but I am actually extremely flattered you’d assume that,” Soonyoung says. “Pole dancers are strong.”

“So are you,” you point out. 

“How do you know?” he asks.

You swallow hard. “Uh, you — your arms,” you stutter. “They're…really nice.”

Soonyoung (unconsciously?) flexes his bicep under your hand, and your knees nearly buckle. It’s almost pathetic how affected you are by him, especially given that he hasn’t even made a move yet, and you cringe inwardly at yourself.

“Are you okay? You look uncomfortable,” Soonyoung asks. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine?” you reassure, but in the least convincing voice ever. 

“Do you need some water?” he asks, concerned.

“Yes, that’d be amazing,” you say, shooing him away and fanning at yourself, your mind full of useless chiding for being so embarrassingly whipped.

A tap on your shoulder startles you from your thoughts. “Hi,” says a familiar voice — and your stomach drops.

It’s your ex boyfriend, the one you’d asked your friend not to invite but to no avail. “Hi,” you say shortly. 

“You look great,” he says, to no reply from you. “The color suits you.”

“Is there something you want?” you ask him, trying to make it clear you don’t want to talk with him about anything.

“Just trying to catch up on what’s happened since, well, you know—“

“Since I caught you cheating?” you finish. “Yeah, life’s been really great since then. Thanks for the trust issues.”

He gives a sheepish little grin. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, like he’s a call center employee placating an angry customer. “I got promoted at work.”

You could punch him. You would, if you weren’t at a wedding. Luckily all murderous intent is redirected by a very timely Soonyoung, who arrives on the scene with a confident, “hey, baby!” and a hand outstretched with a glass of water.

“Oh, you came with someone?” your ex says. He sizes up Soonyoung, who is easily bigger than him, and shrugs. “Bad luck. Maybe next time.”

“I was this close to ruining this wedding,” you confess as Soonyoung wraps a protective arm around your waist, watching your ex saunter away. “He started talking about his promotion.”

“Didn’t he cheat on you?” Soonyoung asks, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah,” you confirm, scowling.

“Well, drink your water, and then we can dance again. You’ll forget all about him.”

This turns out to be true. Dancing with Soonyoung is so much fun -- he seems unusually good at it, and leads you very well, but also doesn’t take things too seriously, letting you spin him or even pretending to do a dip in which he almost falls over. The whole thing is just so ridiculous that you find yourself giggling through it, needing to pause and take a break. Soonyoung suggests that the two of you take a walk down to the lake, and you readily agree. 

He holds your hand during the walk, and you can feel yourself trying to explain away his behavior -- he’s probably just trying to scare off your ex, or any of the other bridesmaids who’ve been making eyes at him all evening (which you’ve been pretending not to notice or care, but which you most definitely have noticed and are not happy about). Or maybe he just wants some affection. Or maybe it’s something else. It certainly can’t be the simplest explanation -- that Soonyoung likes you in the same way you like him. 

The banks of the water are muddy and slick, and you and Soonyoung have to cling to each other for balance, but you’re still giggling like children as you kick off your shoes and let your toes sink into the murky shallows of the pond. “It’s freezing,” you say, hopping out almost immediately and colliding with Soonyoung, who automatically throws his arms out to steady you. Your laughter fades as you look into his eyes, which are wide and uncharacteristically shy and nervous. He swallows. Hard.

“Uh....” he says, stammering. “You’re -- you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you say in a tense whisper.

“I think I -- I think I like you,” Soonyoung whispers back.

“You think?” you ask, smiling a little.

“No, that was ridiculous,” he corrects. “Uh, I like you. For suresies. For realsies.”

“For suresies and for realsies?” you say with wide eyes, and he cringes.

“Throw me a bone, please,” he whines. “I’m nervous.”

And he is. You can tell that this normally confident boy is all but in pieces after making his confession. So you untangle yourself from Soonyoung’s grasp and turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking at him. “So am I,” you admit. 

And at this, Soonyoung beams. If you didn’t know better, you’d think that a smile that lights up a room was a bit of metaphorical nonsense that didn’t truly apply to anyone, but seeing this now, you figure that was an understatement in Soonyoung’s case. This kind of smile from him was enough to support intelligent light on several planets. And you? Just like a moon, you know you’ll be rotating around him your whole life, just reflecting that light. It is impossible to fully describe the way it warms you from the inside out.

You’re so distracted by Soonyoung himself that you don’t notice how he’s leaned in close until his lips brush yours. And, in fact, this move surprises you so much that you jump, startled, which sends you sliding into the mud, dirtying up your pale pink dress and causing an angry honk to emanate from the reeds where you land. Before you know it, a goose is hissing in your ear, and you shriek with terror as you scramble to your feet, running with all your might from the furious bird, who emerges from its marshy home to chase you up the hill toward the wedding party.

You never thought you’d need to answer the question, “Could I beat a goose in a fight?” And now, here you are, with a very clear answer indeed: absolutely not. The goose is fast, using a combination of an aggressive waddle, short bursts of low flight, and what is more than likely a higher-than-average dose of unfettered bloodlust to stay right on your heels all the way onto the dance floor, where wedding guests dive out of the way in cartoonish confusion. You don’t have time to think about how ridiculous you must look, covered in mud, running from a murderous goose, before Soonyoung firmly plants himself in front of the rampaging animal. 

And inexplicably, it stops, looking up at Soonyoung with its unsettlingly blue eyes. He stands with his hands on his hips and glares down at the goose. “You interrupted what was supposed to be a very romantic moment for me,” he scolds. “Now shoo!”

And you watch, dumbfounded, as the goose gives a plaintive squawk before toddling back to its pond. “How did you do that?” you gasp. 

It is only then that you realize the entire wedding is staring at you. And for good reason -- the bride and groom are about to cut the cake. The terror of being chased by Satan’s personal fowl pales in comparison to the sight of the bride. Her eyes are even more murderous than the bird’s had been -- and she’s holding a cake knife to boot. 

So, before any other awful things can happen, you grab Soonyoung’s hand and run. Out of the wedding area, off the farm, onto the dirt road where you parked your car, realizing too late you left your shoes by the pond and not daring to face the wedding party or the goose to retrieve them. By the time you arrive at your car, you’re laughing so hard you’re crying. Soonyoung, though bewildered, joins in, and the two of you double over, struggling to breathe with the absurdity of it all.

When you’ve both been reduced to gasps for air, Soonyoung turns to you, leaning back against your passenger side door for support. “Is every day of your life like this?” he asks through deep breaths.

“Why?” you ask, your face falling. “Are you getting tired of rescuing me?”

He chuckles. Unexpectedly, he pulls you toward him by the waist, seemingly unbothered by the mud. “Not at all,” he says, pulling a stray clump of weeds from your hair. “I’d rescue you every day if you asked. I just need to know how much prep work I need to be doing. I mean, do I need to start a new workout routine? Do I need to learn karate geared toward beating up ducks?”

“That was a goose,” you correct. Then you register what he said. “You’d rescue me every day?”

He suddenly looks nervous again. “If you want,” he offers, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear.

But your answering smile is enough to tell him that’s exactly what you want. With a mite more confidence, he grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb and pulls your lips to his.

This kiss is much more substantial than the last. Soonyoung’s arms wrap around you, his hands resting on the small of your back, locking you into his grasp and making it difficult for you to pull away -- as if you would, because his kisses are sweeter than summer strawberries. As the warm winds begin to pick up speed, as your hair whips around you and your muddy dress is blown every which way, your heart seems to crystalize into calmness. Kissing Soonyoung feels like putting the last piece into a puzzle, like coming inside from a cold rain to a warm fire, like watching bees flit from flower to flower in a late spring sunset. It feels perfect. It feels right.

You could go on kissing Soonyoung forever, until the two of you became statues locked in an embrace, but eventually you do pull away. Soonyoung laughs at the deep, shaky breath you take, and so do you, bringing a hand to touch his pink cheek in wonder. “You’re so beautiful,” you tell him.

“Not as much as you,” he replies warmly. 

Then a thought strikes you. “Also, when were you going to tell me you have mind control over geese?”

He shrugs. “It wasn’t mind control. It was the eye of the tiger.” He brings his hand up in an imitation of a paw print, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Okay. If you’re a Disney Princess, you can just say that.”

“Okay. I’m a Disney Princess,” Soonyoung agrees. “Does that make you happy?”

“Only if I get to be the Disney Prince,” you mumble, nestling into his arms and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Deal,” he replies. You can hear the smile in his voice as he does.

[flamingo-writes]

Leather and Lipstick — Hobie Brown x Reader

@inthishousewestanencanto requested: “Hi! May I ask for a Hobie request? Some possible smut if that's something you write? If not, him making the reader their own battle jacket?”

A/N: i took more than I thought writing this, but I also intended to write a fix half this length. I also merged both things in one, and I feel kinda proud of it. I hope you enjoy it 😩

Genre: fluff, smut.

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings: smut of course. Not proof read.

Hobie Brown was tall. And he was skinny. Granted, he had superhuman strength, could lift an entire bus if he wanted. But he was naturally a skinny guy. His muscles were toned, but not ridiculous toned to make him look like a dehydrated model. He was proportionally toned, muscles buff enough to make him look irresistible to you. Small waist, narrow shoulders.

And it was precisely his thin complexion what allowed him to fit into your clothes. Just like you could fit and drive him crazy wearing his clothes, he could do the exact same thing to you.

He especially loved stealing and wearing a dark red leather jacket you owned. It always smelled like you. It was soft. And you always left random trinkets in the pockets. Sometimes it was your lipstick, sometimes it was your earrings, sometimes it was the tiny origami animals you did with post it notes when you got bored at work. He loved exploring the pockets of your jacket, he never knew what he was going to find.

One time you tipped the inside of the pocket by mistake. Hobie could almost hear the sound of your heart breaking as you said how your favourite jacket was in her last moments, as the insides were starting to rip, the edges were starting to look worn and the paint was starting to fall off. It had been with you for the best part of almost ten years. And you’d found it in a secondhand store. Who knew how long had that jacket really have.

Hobie made it his mission to patch up and fix your jacket before your birthday.

“Man, I’m gonna try and fix it, but I don’t think she has that much life left in her…” You said.

“I’ll do it,” Hobie said with a nonchalant shrug as he started thinking of all the things he could actually do with your jacket.

You didn’t hear nor see your jacket for months. You started forgetting about it, only nostalgically remembering you once had a gorgeous scarlet jacket when you saw pictures of you wearing it. But knew Hobie was actively keeping it secret, as he never told you how it was going. You knew it was going good from the cheeky grin he gave you every time you asked.

The next time you saw it wa shack at Hobie’s place after the night out you had with your friends. You went to a bar, talked and drank for hours. And it was around four a.m. when you left back to your place. Awake as if it was barely 11 p.m. you walked into his place. His hand on your waist as he pushed you against the wall and kissed you between giggles.

You didn’t even try to resist Hobie as you kissed him back and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes. His snaked around your waist as he pressed his body against yours. You moaned sweetly into his lips.

He pulled away from the kiss, leaving you hot and bothered as you glanced at him.

“I’ve still got one last surprise for ya,” He said in a low purr.

“God, Hobie, you’ve already given me a wonderful day with my boyfriend, a fantastic evening with my friends, you know, I’m still kinda expecting birthday sex, but what else can you possibly give me? You’ve already given me everything,” You chuckled, following him as he walked into his room.

“Oh, you’re gonna get your birthday sex, don’t worry, luv…” He chuckled. “Close your eyes,”

You did as he said as you heard his wardrobe open and the rustling of hangers.

“Stretch out your arms,” He said, you complied.

As you felt something leathery and slightly heavy in your hands, your heart stopped briefly.

“No…” You whispered.

“Open those pretty eyes,”

In your hands you saw your scarlet jacket. Renewed. Enhanced. Spikes around the collar, and the cuffs. Black patches sewed with floss along some of the edges. At the back there was a beautiful drawing of your favourite animal made out of polygons with white paint.

“Hobie!” You whispered breathless. “Oh my god, Hobie!”

“You have to see the best part, look at this,” He said as he showed you the inside, completely new fabric covering the insides, and where the old washed out tag with the brand and size was, now replaced with a black patch with a drawing of a pencil with “HB No.2” written on it. His familiar signature, referencing the drawing pencils. Underneath, there was something else written: “For the Love of My Life, my Beacon of Light. I love you. -HB”

You looked up at Hobie with wide eyes, as they got teary.

“Wadya think?” He asked.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close, trapping his lips in a fiery kiss. His hands latched on to your hips at once. Pulling you over to the bed, making you lay down.

“I loved it. Hobie, it’s wonderful…” you said breathlessly as you pulled Hobie on top of you.

“Would you model it for me, luv?” He purred.

You chuckled and nodded. Getting off of you, and laying besides you, you say up and out on the jacket, standing up and modelling the jacket.

“The jacket doesn’t look nearly as beautiful as the girl wearing it,”

“Come on, Hobie. It’s beautiful. I loved it,” You said.

“I’m glad you liked it,” He said with a gentle smile.

“You know how this would look even better?” You asked, smirking as you took off the jacket.

Hobie raised an eyebrow as he watched you take your shirt off. His heart racing as his eyes and smirk widened.

As you put your jacket back on, this time not wearing anything underneath. The jacket covering your breasts, leaving your chest exposed, as Hobie stared at you wide eyed.

“Fuck, I can’t believe how incredibly hot you look, luv,” He said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him.

Pulling you down, straddling him, he leaned closer and started kissing your neck as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands exploring your skin underneath the jacket. Between his hands and lips, you felt delirious. Letting a soft moan escape your throat as one of your hands sunk in his wicks.

“Fuck, Hobie…” You whispered.

“Isn’t that the plan?” He teased, making you chuckle.

“You’re such a smartass,” You said kissing his head.

“You like that, don’t you?” He said pulling away as one of his hands caressing your cheek.

His other hand slid up your side, cupping your boob. His thumb sliding over your nipple, making you close your eyes and moan.

“You sound so hot when you do that, babe…” He said in a low voice, as he kept teasing your nipple, staring at you enamoured.

Opening your eyes, you glanced at him. Licking your lips, as your stare darkened. Picking up on the look you were giving him, he leaned forward and kissed you. His other hand slid down your cheek to cup your other breast, giving them a gentle squeeze before his fingers teased your nipples. Gasping against his lips, you rocked your hips on top of his, this time, stealing a moan from him.

Melting against each other, while normally you’d passionately devour each other, this time you went slower. Equally fiery, but much slower. Taking your time to undress each other. Loving caresses, and declarations of love dissipating in the air, mixed with moans. The heat rising as you gave into each other.

With little clothes left, Hobie lying on the bed with you sitting on his hips. Wearing nothing but leather and smudged lipstick. He stared at you with drunken eyes.

“You know how else would this jacket look great?” He asked.

“On your bedroom floor?” You asked, making him chuckle.

“Man, too predictable?”

“You used that pick up like the first time you brought me over to your place…” You chuckled. “I was wearing—“

“That sexy blue sundress…” Hobie sighed as his hands slid up your body, pushing the jacket off your shoulders.

In a swift move, once Hobie took off the jacket, he grabbed your hips and turned the both of you over. Leaving you undergrad as he nestled between your legs.

“For the record, you always do look sexy…” He said.

You giggled as you cupped his face. “Kiss me, Hobie…”

Without having to be told twice, he leaned down and kissed you.

The night went on as you let the heat of the moment consume you. Clothes burning close together, as he slid inside of you. Stretching you in such a delicious way, building a rhythm that was soon going to drive you crazy. Delirious, as Hobie knew exactly how to make you feel ecstatic.

With every push, he was building your orgasm. Somehow being simultaneously rough and gentle, making your eyes roll back. Your voice growing higher and higher, as the sound of your voice was driving him insane.

“Fuck, babe…Look at me…” He purred as you opened your eyes, looking at him. “That’s right, babe…”

“I love you, Hobie…” You gasped.

“I do too. Very, very much, baby…” He said as he leaned over, his nose brushing against yours.

His hips slowed down, as his hands patched on to your hips, lifting them up slightly. Going deeper than before, you let a loud moan out as you bumped your forehead against his. His length brushing against the right spot, and his tip kissing your cervix.

“Babe, I want to cum…” You whined.

“Everything at its time…” He chuckled softly as he built up his rhythm again.

Arching your back, you cried out his name as your hands clawed to his shoulders. His hips snapping against yours, as his own grunts only added to the heat in your belly condense.

With every push, every gasp, you felt yourself dissolving, every second closet and closer and closer to your climax.

“Ba-babe~”

“You like that?” He asked with a cheeky grin as he pulled your legs over his shoulders, going deeper.

“Ye-yeah…”

“Such a pretty girl,” He purred as he sped up.

His relentless pace eventually threw you off the edge, as you cried out his name, your fingers clawing to his arms. The consuming heat of your orgasm burning you inside out. Your walls desperately squeezing him, sucking him in as he groaned, lost in pleasure as he chased his own orgasm. The delirious spasming of your walls soon made him come undone. His hot seed shooting inside your insides, coating and painting your walls.

He kissed your forehead, halting his movements. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the feeling of his body relaxing and the sound of your soft panting, catching your breath.

He got off of you and collapsed on the bed besides you. Rolling to your side, you snuggled close to him.

“Happy birthday, luv,”

“My best birthday so far,”

“That’ll change next year,” He said confidently, as he kissed your forehead.

~~~~~

Hobie tag list: @melda0m3

[xhoess]

Paint me

Spencer reid × fem bod! Reader

Masterlist

Summary: when you get an assignment from your art teacher are completely lost. You need a model to pose for your painting but the problem is no-one wants to, because they would have to go naked. When you go to the bar with a friend and her colleagues you find the perfect model for your painting.

Genre: smut with plot?

Story under cut!!

"Sure I will be there soon" you say to Penelope who is on the other side of the phone "okay great! See you soon girl" she said before hanging up.

You just agreed to go to a bar not to far from your apartment to hang with your close friend Penelope and her colleagues, you had met a few of them already but you don't really remember them. But every time when Penelope talks about her colleagues you can't help but laugh about the way she describes this one guy named Spence. He seems cute.

Lately you have been very busy with your school assignments and you almost have no time left to spend with friends. Now you only have one assignment to but you consider dropping it because you can't seem to find a model who want to sit for you. Wich you get because they would have to be naked for it.

But you try to not think about it for tonight, so you quickly get up and put on your shoes before walking out of the door straight to the bus stop. You weren't gonna ride yourself because you where not planning on staying sober tonight.

Once you arrive at the bar Penelope gives you a big hug, "guys you remember y/n right?" She says while Turing to the rest of the group. A younger, kinda cute looking man stands up and holds his hand out to be shook "Hi y/n, I'm spencer reid" you smile at his gesture and grab his hand to shake is "Hi Spencer, nice to meet you I'm y/n l/n"

You may have hold the eye contact a little bit too long because Penelope and Emily were looking at each other and it looked like they were having a telepathic conversation with their facial expressions. And from that moment on you knew Penelope was not gonna leave you alone and tease you about spencer for probably a lifetime.

"So y/n how's school" Emily asks, "oh please, you don't wanna hear about my boring art problems I promise you" you laugh, but she insisted that it was not boring and that they all would love to hear at least one 'boring problem" so you gave in. "Okay, there is this assignment and I need to turn it in next week and it's totally stressing me out, I can't seem to find a model to pose for me"

"I am sure reid would love to pose for you" Derek teases, but you didn't expect spencer to say "i Mean I don't see the harm in it so I think I would do it" "spencer that is really sweet but it has to be a naked portrait" you blurt out.

Spencer chokes on his drink and is bight red by now "I did not know that" He said, his voice ten times higher than the Last time he spoke. Cute you thought.

The evening went on and the subject of the painting died down pretty quick, but the more drinks you have the more you start to think about painting Spencer, you start to scan his body from his legs to his face but when you reach his eye level you see that he has been staring at you too. He suddenly gets and walks towards the bar, but the way he lingers his eyes for a second too long when he walks away makes your legs feel weak.

You follow, Penelope asks where you are going but before you can answer her you had already left. You where sure you're not thinking straight but you couldn't care less.

Once you reach the bar you search for spencer, you thought he was walking this way but maybe you were wrong. As you start to question yourself a person comes behind you, and softly grabs your hips. He leans closer and whispers in your ear "paint me"

But his voice wasn't the squeaky high one you heard before, it was way lower and it made your legs go weak. You turn around and face spencer. "You wanna get out of here?" You ask, hoping he would say yes.

He said yes and grabs your hand to lead you to his car, that was maybe the best part. He didn't even had a single drop of alcohol and you made him come with you and probably have sex within the first 5 hours of knowing each other.

But at the booth where you guys were sitting Derek nudges Penelope, "babygirl look our plan worked they are gonna hook up" he said proudly, "Oh my God I wanna hear all the details about this from y/n" she giggles.

This may have been the longest 10 minute car ride of your life but when you finally got inside your apartment there was no time wasted. Spencer carefully pushed you against the wall next to the entrance of your apartment and connects his lips with yours. You're surprised with the force of the kiss, you expected spencer to be a sweet, soft guy in bed but this kiss is already proving that you're wrong.

He taps your tighs as a sign for you to jump, and you do, he is lifting you up and carrying you to the bedroom. "I've been waiting for this all night" He said while laying you down on the bed.

He started kissing the crook of your neck and you groaned in response. He definitely liked that sound comming from you because he moves his hands to the buttons of your blouse and starts to undress you. But he was surprised when you bucked your hips up to create friction between the two of you. He stopped his moves for a good 2 seconds before continuing to undress you.

Once you were undressed he started to kiss your whole body from top to bottom "God you look so good" He mumbled against your skin.

His hands ghost over your pussy and you shiver, "spencer please" "please what baby" He says sweetly "please put your damn fingers in me already or I am gonna do it myself" you say before pulling him into a kiss again. Spencer did not wait any longer to insert his fingers, you arch your back and moan his name. If his fingers get you off this much already you can't wait for his cock.

Luckily for you, once spencer was done stretching you out he unbuckeld his belt, but you stopped his tracks. "Let me" you say while switching positions with him.

Your leaking pussy is now straddling his hard on. "Ngm- y/n don't tease me like that" He says.

You take of his pants and underwear in one smooth motion and start to stoke his length. Once you think you wet him enough you start to straddle his lap again. "Are you clean?" You ask, he nods "yes , I am" "okay me too, so no condom" and you swear you felt his dick twitch at the thought of comming inside of you.

You line up with his dick and start to sink down, the stretch is unbelievably good but your mind gets thrown off when spencer switches the positions between you too. His dick is almost fully in and and spencer grabs your hand and lays in on your belly.

"Do you feel that" He asks, and you swear you have never lost your mind so badly. Once spencer was fully inside of you, you could feel the top of his dick poking in your skin, your hand is grazing over it and spencer can't hold it back any longer.

He starts to move his hips in a smooth motion, pulling in and out in a quick pace. You throw your head back and grab his arms, you are sure you left a few marks there but you couldn't care less.

"I can't hold it much longer" you say "that's okay, me neither" He breaths out in the crook of your neck. Not much later spencer throws his head back in pleasure and let's out a long moan. His load shooting into you.

"You where so good for me" He said while pulling out fully. This may have been the best you ever had.

An hour later you and spencer where all cleaned up and ready for bed, you admired him when he walked towards you in only his boxers.

"I did indeed find the perfect model"

Please leave a like If you liked it!

[slafkovskys]

neeeed more possessive quinn and angel thots pls

luke was going because a good percentage of his friends were still going to umich and he had only left a few months before, so spotting him on the sidelines at one of the first football games of the season wouldn’t be weird. jack was going because luke was going and because she had promised to get him to a darty while he was on campus. jack would never turn down a good party.

quinn, however, had said no when she pouted her lips at him in the kitchen upon finding out he was the only one not going. he said no again as he busied himself on his phone beside her in the nail salon and she batted her eyelashes towards him as her tech made the intricate design he had chosen on her fingernails. he said no for a third time when she was between his legs. he was stronger than his brothers, she couldn’t just ask him to do whatever she wanted while he was a little cum dumb and get her way. they both knew that.

it’s when she’s modeling her game day outfits for them in the living room that he caves. her prancing around in a navy blue cheer skirt that barely covered her ass and a white tank top with a maize-colored m in the center has him feeling something. the last time that quinn remembers feeling like this, this pang in his chest, the twisting in his stomach, is when he was ten and luke was six and his youngest brother stole his favorite action figure out of his room.

he remembers seeing it sticking out of luke’s backpack as they were walking to the bus stop and ripping it away, yelling something about it being his because it was. luke had no right to take something that was so obviously his (going through a toy story phase months before, he scratched his name on the sole of the toy’s boot so there’d be no question) and now here he was, almost twenty-four years old and watching the girl he shares with his brothers strut around their living room in little outfits with his alma mater plastered on them.

he watches as jack tries to slip a hand up her skirt and she shoves his hand away while luke watches bemused, “see, angel, i’m just showing you why you need to be careful about bending over when we go out-”

“it’s a good thing we’ll all be there, then,” quinn clears his throat and her head whips around to look at him. “y’know, to make sure nobody tries anything and you get to wear your cute outfits.”

she squeals and bounds over, straddling his legs easily. his hands go to grip onto the back of her thighs as she presses a quick kiss to his lips, “oh, thank you quinny! it’s going to be so much fun!”

fun was absolutely the last thing that quinn was having.

she had made good on her promise of dragging them to a darty and he felt so out of his element. it had been over four years since quinn had been a student at the university, everyone he knew (with the exception of her) had long graduated and moved on with their lives.

luke had cliqued off with dylan, ethan, and everyone else from his year. jack had gone off with brisson somewhere and he was really hoping that wasn’t him he saw in line for the mechanical bull. quinn had been attempting to make himself invisible as he also balanced keeping her in his sights. he was always aware of her, even more so that they were in somebody's crowded backyard and she was likely immune to the eyes on her as she downed another seltzer.

there’s one guy, tall and unnaturally blonde, who had been watching her similar to how a predator watches prey. quinn stands up a lot straighter when the kid steps away from his friends at the same time that she does and he watches with narrowed eyes as she finds her way into luke’s arms. the guy stops in his tracks and his shoulders fall and quinn can’t help the smug smile that graces his lips.

he watches as she turns in luke’s arms, his brother’s hands a light weight on her stomach as she holds onto his wrist, as her eyes search the crowd for something, for someone. her eyes land on him and he sends a quick to finger wave to which she pouts. she uses the hand that wasn’t holding onto luke to beckon him over and he goes easily, leaving nico mid-conversation about some golf trip he was trying to pitch to his other clients.

“quinny,” she whines and he knows she’s tipsy. luke doesn’t say anything, only sparing his brother a glance as he approaches and loosening his grip on their girl when he realizes it’s only him before turning his attention back to mark, “what’s wrong?”

he shakes his head, “nothing-”

“it is,” she interrupts and he raises an eyebrow, “you’ve got you’re annoyed face on. c’mon, tell me.”

he wants so badly to reach out and touch her, pull her out of luke’s arms and into his just so everyone at this party knows that she’s his too, but he can’t. instead, he sighs, “it’s nothing that you need to worry about, angel. just have fun. do you want another drink?”

“i want you to tell me the truth, quinn.”

and she never called any of them by their names. it was always quinny, jacky, lukey, or some pet name. she only did that when she was mad or annoyed and he could tell that she was over him not telling her what was making him have such a sour expression. she narrowed his eyes and he sips his beer before giving into the girl, “there’s a guy that won’t stop staring at you. it’s pissing me off.”

“you’re jealous?” she sends him a playful grin and his mouth is back to being set in a hard line. she shakes it off and leans back into luke’s chest, humming at the feeling of the boy’s thumb hooking into the waistband of her skirt, “where is he?”

“over by the bouncy castle.”

“over by the- oh my god. tripp?” she looked at him like he was crazy, “he’s in my creative writing class! he’s really nice and we help each other out with assignments and things.”

“oh, he’s nice?” there’s venom coating the word as he says it, “does he know that you have a boyfriend?”

“yes, he knows that i have a boyfriend, quinny,” she rolls her eyes before something switches, “but you know what he doesn’t know?”

quinn raises an eyebrow at the almost teasing grin that stretches across her lips. she taps at luke’s arm and they immediately fall, setting her free. she closes the couple foot gap between them and quinn’s eyes go wide as she smooths her hands down his chest. he warns, “angel-”

“he doesn’t know that i have two other boyfriends, too, and that’s not fair,” her lips fall to that signature pout as she grabs onto his hands and places them so suggestively on her ass. quinn can feel the end of that stupid skirt against his fingertips as her breath fans over his jaw, “it’s okay to be jealous, quinny. i’m just as much yours as i am luke’s or jack’s.”

“we’re in public,” quinn’s jaw clicks as she presses her lips to his neck. they had never done anything like this outside of the privacy of the lake house and god, was quinn’s brain going to short-circuit any minute. luke’s not even paying attention to the two of them, but he catches dylan sparing them a glance and when his eyes find quinn’s he quickly looks away.

“i know. i’m letting tripp know that my boys take care of me,” she leans her body more into his and it’s like muscle memory when his fingers grasp her ass cheek. he knows his thumb is resting right over the red ink that reads ‘bite me’ as she giggles, “he’s watching us.”

quinn smirks when luke finally looks at them and where quinn’s hand is. he nods, raising his drink to his brother before pointing something out to ethan. quinn’s chest rumbles as she grabs onto his shirt, wondering how long they could disappear without anyone noticing before the game started, “good.”

[octuscle]

New class

Albert was more than disgusted. The fact that his father's chauffeur had been involved in an accident somewhere was unforgivable. But the fact that his parents told him to take the bus home if he didn't want to stay at boarding school at the weekend was downright impertinent. His parents thought he was a spoiled brat. And of course they were right. But was that Albert's fault? After all, they had let him grow up with a golden spoon in his mouth. And my God, he hadn't turned out that badly. Star of the swimming team, always perfectly styled golden curls. Dressed as if he was a cover model for Men's Vogue. He brought home good grades, he was popular and the daughters from better families queued up to get laid by him. But now he was standing at the bus stop, his Hermès weekender between his legs, waiting for the bus to take him to the station.

The worst part was the mocking looks from his classmates as they passed him in the heavy limousines. In this respect, the arrival of the bus was sheer relief. Albert looked at the bus driver like a cockroach. Fortunately, Dad's black credit card was accepted to buy the ticket. Unfortunately, the bus was full. Almost to the last seat. And the only free seat that Albert could reach without any problems was next to a young man his age. But age was the only unifying factor. Otherwise, the two were separated by education, money and style. And a different attitude to personal hygiene. Not only did the young man in his shiny tracksuit smell of tobacco and sweat, he also had one of his obviously unmanicured hands in his trousers and was scratching his balls with complete abandon despite Albert's presence. Albert rolled his eyes, took his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and started exchanging messages with his friends at home. The weekend needed to be planned. Tonight there would be a dinner party at his parents' house. A small circle, maybe 12 people. But apart from that, there were no plans yet.

Just as he had written a message to Vincent asking if they wanted to meet up at Annabell's after dinner, he felt sick. The Scally next to him held the hand that had just been working his scrotum under his nose. "Yo, like who do you even think you are, bro? But let's be real, deep down, the aroma of a straight-up Scally ball gets your juices flowin', am I right or what?" Albert almost gagged. "Yo dawg, you cool if I blaze up some dankity dank up in here?" Albert replied that of course it bothered him. And that it was forbidden to smoke on the bus. But somehow it made him feel dizzy. The smell of his neighbor's hands… Somehow… Hot! While he was still trying to collect himself, he felt the smelly and calloused hands of his seatmate on his chin. His face was turned gruffly in the Scally's direction. And he blew his tobacco smoke directly into Albert's handsome face. "Yo dude, my bad but I totally couldn't make it to the station. But like, I'm willing to bet no one gets that struggle quite like you, you hardcore chain-smoking addict!"

Albert had never smoked before… The scally handed him a packet of tobacco and cigarette paper. Albert hesitated for a moment. Just a moment. And then he started rolling a cigarette. Like a pro. With nicotine-stained fingers. He stuck the first cigarette behind his ear. And he rolled a second cigarette. He held the butt in his trembling hand. Shit, how long would it take before they arrived at this damn station? He hadn't got that far yet. But he couldn't hold out much longer. The man sitting next to him seemed to have read his thoughts. He pulled Albert's head towards him, turned his face towards his and gave Albert a deep French kiss. And exhaled the freshly inhaled tobacco smoke. Smoke flowed through Albert's lungs. Shit, that felt good. Almost as good as the tongue in his mouth. His cock got hard, even harder when the scally started to knead the bulge in Albert's trousers.

The bus came to an abrupt stop. The Scally suddenly spat in Albert's face and got out of his seat over Albert. He obviously had a hard-on too. Albert grabbed his Nike sports bag and followed the guy without thinking. He was met with one hand in his pants and one on a freshly lit cigarette. The scally pulled his hand out of his pants, took his lighter out of his pocket and gave Albert a light. “My name's Mason, by the way. And you, pal,” Albert took a deep drag. Damn, that felt good. He held out his hand to Mason. Mason turned it into a fist bump. “Nice to meet you, Berty! Shit, who beat you up like that?” Albert looked at Mason questioningly. Mason pulled out his cell phone, switched the camera to selfie mode and held the screen up to Albert. Bloody hell! His nose had obviously been broken not so long ago and there was a freshly stitched laceration over his right eye. And his left eye was bloodshot and swollen. “Mate, I straight up wrecked that fool in the third round. Like, it wasn't even me getting KO'd, it was the other dude. I was just too dank for him to handle.” What the hell?!?! Did he just say that?

Albert stroked his bald head. The stubble was itchy. He had last shaved the day before yesterday. It was about time he used the razor again. Mason sniffed and snotted on the sidewalk. Berty followed his example and stubbed out his fag. Shit, Mason's cock was clearly visible under his training pants. Berty's filthy jockstrap, which he probably hadn't changed for a week, held his own hard-on back to some extent. Mason lit a new cigarette and walked wordlessly in the direction of the bus station bathroom stalls. A quick glance in Berty's direction, a grab for his crotch and Berty followed him inconspicuously. The two were not men of many words. Berty had been on the road all week working as a plumber. They showed their joy at seeing each other again in a good hard fuck in the run-down toilet.

The two of them hung out at the bus stop. Maybe a few more of their pals came by. Both were already horny again and could already cum again. But above all, Berty didn't feel like going home. His father was probably drunk again and his mother had enough to do with his eight younger siblings. Drinking beer and smoking at the bus stop wasn't the worst thing to do. He knew worse fates!

Awesome pic by @aismoker

[ninesbey0nd]

Forbidden Waltz | Kang Yeosang

SYNOPSIS. Your university is quite well renowned for its creative and abstract programs, so it was no surprise that the majority of the students were pursuing a profession in arts. There was a focus in art, film, dance, drama, music, you could go on. These departments, however, enforced an unspoken, exclusive clique social norm. You never understood it. Thus, the student body was quite split based on their major.

PAIRING. Dance Major! Yeosang x Art Major! Reader (afab)

GENRE. enemies to lovers, mutual pining, edgy Yeosang, smut, Dom! Yeosang

WARNINGS. Profanity, NSFW, bullying themes, unprotected sex (wrap ya willy!), penetrative sex, fingering, oral (giving) semi public sex (?)

if you wanna be added to my tag list lmk! :) <3

Reqs are open!

Ever since freshman orientation, you remembered that one man’s stupid fucking face

Kang Yeosang

He was one of the most talented dancers to enter the university's program, being consistently scouted and recruited from various labels and companies

Despite this, he never paid attention to any of the offers he received

He would always gloat about how he valued the college experience more than putting himself out there for fame

You couldn't stand him. He was so full of himself.

Sure, you would admit that he was good-looking. Maybe more like exceptionally good-looking, but you would never admit that aloud

He already had the entire student body whipped for him. Not only was he phenomenal at dance but he had a charismatic personality as well

He was a magnet for people, that was for sure

quickly climbing the social hierarchy at the school, and of course, being in a completely different field of study had the two of you barely seeing one another

which was a good thing, you thought

You didn't know what it was, but something about him really bothered you

He always presented himself as a model student, he wouldn’t take anything less than perfect

In addition, he seemed to have no qualms with anyone, including departments outside of dance

He was odd, that was for sure

You swore this kid was some sort of machine from what you heard about him, it seemed too good to be true

And you were right

You have to walk past the dance department to reach your section of the art building

A practice room door is cracked open and you hear someone… punching a wall?

You poked your head in and saw none other than Yeosang slumped against the mirror, head held in his hands

“I fucking hate this goddamn school I hate all these annoying ass dickheads I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.”

Holy shit.

Mr. Perfect wasn't so perfect anymore

You were lost in your own wave of thoughts until you noticed Yeosang looking directly at you, eyes narrowed to points

“What the fuck do you want?”

He is not having it.

Who does this art nerd think they are? invading his practice room like it's some kind of open house.

“Get the fuck out,” he pulled himself upward and took a few steps toward the door where you stood

Your lips flatten into a tight line. “Sorry, sorry I’m going—,” You pulled yourself away from the door and slammed it shut

Fuck.

He was not happy.

You knew the power he held on campus too

Anxiety hit you like a bus.

What if he told people that you were a creep?? What if he got the art department to turn on you??

You vigorously shook your head, praying that nothing would come from that interaction

boy were you wrong

You swore you never saw this man on campus and now suddenly you see him everywhere??

Wherever you go— the library, dining hall, and in the unfortunately shared building between art and dance — he is always right behind you

It got to a point where you would purposefully show up early or late to places to avoid spotting the all-too-familiar brunette.

That was until he had you cornered in your art room.

“What are you doing here?” You spun around, dropping the brush in your hands and nearly kicking your easel over

“You don’t belong here—“

Yeosang slammed the studio door behind him, rattling your art supplies on the table.

You nearly jumped a foot into the air

“What the fuck!”

He simply folded his arms over his chest and leaned his body against the doorframe.

“I thought it’d do you well to have a taste of your own actions,” He yawned, his gaze followed your movements in an almost predatory manner.

“Are you serious— it was a mistake! I never meant to go into your dumbass dance studio,” you scoffed, returning your focus to the painting in front of you.

As you swiped your brush across the textured canvas, doing your best to avoid the pair of eyes burning into the back of your head, you failed to notice a shadow looming over your figure.

“Hmm, maybe you are talented after all.” Yeosang’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck, tickling your skin softly.

You leaped out of your seat, tripping and nearly knocking everything over in front of you had you not saved yourself on a nearby counter.

“Seriously Yeosang, get out.” You hissed with disdain. “I can’t focus on getting anything done when you’re—“

He advanced toward you, step by step.

You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to you until your back hit the edge of the counter.

shit

His hands caged you against the table and you felt him tilt his head down toward you

"Hm?" His eyes raked down your body as his head leaned to the side

“Whats wrong artsy?” He wore a shit eating grin displayed across his lips.

“Yeosang Im not playing around right now I need to—!”

You were cut short as his lips crashed against yours. His hands moved from the counter to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You found yourself frozen, before you melted into his touch.

What has gotten into you?

He pulled away for a split second to take a breath, his gaze resting on your lips.

“I didn’t take you as a rule breaker,” He chuckled lowly, his hand traveling to the side of your waist.

You hated to admit it, but something inside of you was actually enjoying this.

A dance and art student?? getting together?? never heard of.

Let alone in the middle of an art studio.

“Yeo—“

His hands gripped your sides and he lifted you onto the counter, boxing you in with his arms.

“Hmm?” He looked up at you, his eyes flashing with mischief.

“We’re in an art atudio,” you hesitated, shifting your weight around.

“And?” He leaned forward, causing you to lean backward on your hands.

“I— Isn’t this a little much?” Your eyes darted around the room, inspecting the entrances and windows.

“Not if we make this quick,” Yeosang grins up at you.

His hands make their way down to the waistband of your bottoms. His eyes meet yours, waiting for any hesitation or uncertainty.

“Y—You can.” You managed to sputter out, turning away from his gaze.

Despite looking away you could practically feel him smirking.

His fingers dipped up under your shirt, the tips of his fingers grazing over your waist before dipping down and hooking onto your waistband.

You lift yourself up slightly, allowing him to better remove the article of clothing.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, slipping your bottoms off your ankles before tossing it aside.

“Yeo,” you whispered in a hushed tone, squeezing your fists beside you.

What a tease.

His fingers travel down your stomach to the innermost part of your thighs, tracing delicate patterns along your skin.

You whined in response, tensing your legs together as if to create some sort of friction.

His hands continue kneading your thighs until you feel a finger graze your slit.

You let out a soft moan in response, eliciting a pleased hum from Yeosang.

He teases your entrance, spreading your arousal around before plunging a finger inside of you.

You let out a soft moan, “Yeo—“

Your voice catches in your throat when he starts pumping in and out of you, curling his finger upward with his movements.

Your hands fly to grip the table beneath you and you stifled the sounds that threatened to escape past your lips.

He slips a second finger inside you, his movements quickening with each stroke.

He grins up toward you, a seemingly sweet face in contrast to what his hands were doing to you.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet if you don’t wanna get caught,” he leaned over you before sliding his fingers out of you and guiding you off the counter.

His hand caressed the side of your face before he began to lower the waist band of his pants.

You slowly sunk to your knees, your hands over taking his to lower his pants down beneath his hips.

All that was left was his boxers, and you could practically see the outline of his hard on

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers before sliding them down his thighs

Holy fuck

You wrap your fingers around his length, stroking him a few times before you engulf him with your lips

He lets out a low groan of satisfaction, his hand traveling down to cup your cheek

You began bobbing your head down his length, and Yeosang’s head lulled back

“You’re doing so well for me,” he whispered, looking down at you to meet your gaze.

Your eyes met his as you kept up with your pace

Yeosang fisted your hair, guiding your head down his length when a sharp knock to the door alerted you both

You pulled away from him immediately, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you

The door handle jiggled, and to your relief it had been locked

Yeosang chuckled silently, his gaze shifting from the door back to your form on the floor

“What, did you think I’d be so careless?”

“Now, let’s get back to where we left off.”

[mrgriffiths]

A request for what would it be like for a fem reader to be stalked by Terry Silver.

Thankyou.

I'm so sorry for taking this long! Only a month late O_O

𝕾𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨𝔢𝔯 𝕾𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯

<<𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜>>

- Mr. Silver had been associated with all kinds of people throughout the decades. He's seen the good, the bad, and the in-between. Ultimately, everyone just became a means to an end. So, for a lady to catch his attention? It would have to be someone who is different than what he's used to... even in the slightest way.

- In the 80s, he's a playboy. Always seen with models or with women who have a million dollars to their name or two in the upper crust society. The kind that he'd flaunt around with the intention of showing off his status. These conquests wouldn't last more than a few weeks. He gets a rush out of just seeing the paparazzi in a craze to get the latest scoop on him all while he is fully in control about what gets let out to the eye of the public, even the 'leaked photos'. Everyone is merely a puppet in his world, and it gets him cackling at the very thought of it.

- But that's not all. Hell, it's the tip of the iceberg for Terry. He'd indulge in the mediocre bar dancers and hookers from the dingy parts of LA and likely all over the world too, the man's got to travel for business and he's got to keep himself entertained while he's at it! Women would practically fall at his feet just for a chance, a billionaire with looks and charm that could put the best models and actors to shame.

- So I'd imagine that the kind of lady that would catch the eye of Terry Silver would be someone who he'd seen whilst pretending to be a commoner, a broke karate instructor who's got a blue pick up truck that isn't in good shape. A random woman who works or lives in the area, just a few blocks away from the dojo. Probably isn't one to be seen as a fast or pretentious like himself. One who would generally be described as sweet and humble but would stand her ground if she's pushed too far. I think he'd like the challenge of molding someone to his liking while they have a fighting spirit in them. Makes things a whole lot more interesting.

- It would start off small. Him keeping an eye on you every day, memorizing your daily times of leaving for work in the morning and returning home. The route that you take, whether you walk, take the bus, or travel using your own vehicle, that would most likely be of the same value of his blue pick-up truck. The people that you interact with on the way.

- He'd hire a team of private investigators to get every bit of information about you after you seem to be stuck in his head even while he's coked out in the sauna. 'Nothings for free' there's a price that you will have to pay for occupying the thoughts of Terry Silver, borderline obsession sinking in.Your past, your family heritage, everything right down to your passport and social security number. Any past lovers and their history, too. If you happened to have a lover at the time, they'd swiftly be removed from the picture. He's all about the extremes, and no one will get in the way of him getting what belongs to him.

- Whilst you're away from home, he'd enter with the spare key that he'd seen you put under the small pot plant near the door although a mere door lock isn't something that would be hard for him to pick. Your apartment is small but clearly lived in. He'd have a look at everything you keep around, your drawers and shelves memorizing your interests. Your wardrobe and accessories will definitely get an upgrade in his home. He probably keeps something of yours for himself as a momento of you, your scent lingering on it. You seem to have not found one of your underwear in your laundry this week. That's strange...

- He'd come by and hide in the dead of the night to watch you in your natural state. Your mannerisms and what makes you feel relaxed. The type of shows you watch, the food you cook and whatever else you like to do in your spare time, your hobbies. He'd provide you with it all and more when the time comes. You'd get the weird feeling of having eyes on you, yet everything seems to be normal, and everything around is still in place. Nothing out of the ordinary. He'd even follow you to work and at the spots you chose to spend your leisure time at. Watching who you confide in and who you wouldn't associate with.

- After days, maybe even weeks of stalking his prey, Terry might come over and introduce himself to you. Just taking a walk on the street and offers to help you with the groceries one day. "Hey, need a hand with that?" All smiles and very friendly. He'd pick up the conversation easily with you coming off as innocent as possible. "Terry Silver, nice to meet you! I actually run the dojo a few blocks ahead." He'd tell you whilst offering a handshake after setting your groceries on the kitchen counter..

- That night whilst getting a good soak in the tub, he'd be on a call with John absolutely cackling about it all and going over the details of his plans for you. "Oh yeah! I'm just getting started, John!"

- Present day Terry Silver has a much different style and approach to this kind of situation. His playboy reputation all cleaned up, and the CEO of Dynatox Industries, who used to illegally dump nuclear waste, is now seen as someone who is an environmentalist more than anything. He's sober, has been to therapy, and is now associated with 'like-minded 'people. Yet everyone is still a means to an end, and he's just wearing a mask in front of these people. They don't know him the way they think they do, nothing of his time in 'Nam and certainly nothing about his old-time friend Captain John Kreese..

- It isn't likely that a woman from the upper crust would get his attention this time around either. All of these people are around him because of his money and reputation anyway.. if anything, they would end up just like Cheyenne Hamidi. In this case, it's likely that the woman who catches his eye would be someone who works for him or maybe comes around to one of his dojos. After observing you for a while during the class and afterward in his office through the many cameras installed in the dojo, he'd come to the decision that you are going to be his. There's definitely a fire in you if you have the guts to try out something like martial arts even if you don't know what it is that you're getting yourself into..

- He'd take full advantage of the presence of technology these days and find out everything he needs to know about you. Stalking your social media accounts and using all means possible to get information on you. Again, he'd have everything on you down to the very last detail. No lover or potential lovers will get in the way either. All of that will be taken care of.

- He's more direct in his approach this time, he'd come off as the sensei who's intimidating during training with the most piercing eyes in the room, but the most humble and understanding man outside of it all. He'd make you feel like you could trust him and confide in him whenever you needed to. He'd easily gaslight you into the entire situation, making it seem like it was you the whole time, and he'd be downright successful.

- He'd talk you into telling him everything about you in the shortest amount of time and have you invite him over to your home with ease. He's an old man, he doesn't have all the time in the world to play these games like back in the 80s as much as he liked the chase he would likely speed up the process tenfold. He'd have a look around your home whilst you're in the kitchen or bathroom, and he'd memorize it all. Not a sound would be heard from him. For a man as big as him, he's the quietest. You'd often get spooked by his sudden presence around you.

- You'd find yourself running into him a lot these days, but you couldn't put anything past a coincidence. After all, he's the nicest person you've come across. He's probably got your phone taped while you were non the wiser. Everything you do would ultimately be in his control without him even moving past the facade of friendship with you. Your friends and family start to get distant, but Terry is always there whenever you need it... Once a snake has you secure in its coil, there's no escape other than that of death..

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

moving slowly on a fast lane | cl16, cs55

charles leclerc x original female character x carlos sainz jr [+18]

🏁 synopsis: If you ask her, Katie will tell you she’s a motorsports enthusiast and that she works as a model. However, the world has given her various labels – fangirl, groupie, escort, you name it. Regardless of the terminology used, the undeniable truth is that women like her play a crucial role in the industry. Every race weekend, she is there not just to be entertained but to contribute to the entertainment, whether it's by being a pretty face at exclusive parties or by providing more intimate company for the pilots. warnings: smut; loss of virginity; threesome; age gap; misdescription of f1 behind the scenes (W.c. 2K)

| listen to the playlist |

PART I — GROUPIE LOVE

“Because you’re different.” Carlos explains, not really looking at her.

Charles, his head resting on her lap, winces at the response, quietly disagreeing with his teammate's answer. The trio, as usual, lies together on a king-sized bed in a luxury hotel.

It's summer in Latin America, and they're wearing light clothes. The windows are wide open, and the gentle tropical breeze is getting Katie agitated. Yet, it's all in vain because Carlos doesn't even move his eyes from the TV, watching a random tennis match.

Carlos and Charles label moments like these as 'teambuilding,' and usually, Katie is very good at getting them both in a good mood – calm and tranquil. But not today. Today, it's Katie herself who needs calming down.

For the past year, every race weekend, Katie wears her prized credentials like a badge of honor. In no time, despite being quite young and new to the scene, Katie seamlessly transitioned from a wide-eyed newbie to a face you couldn't miss. It wasn't a difficult feat, considering she has an unforgettable face with killer feminine features and a confident personality that could give the racers a run for their money.

Her presence in the paddock has transcended mere fandom – she's not just there to watch anymore, in a way, she became an essential part of the spectacle.

Things are still all rainbows and sunshine for Katie. Her life has turned into a never-ending road trip, always traveling with a team. The pilots still appreciate her – she’s still their untarnished muse – and she hasn't lost the thrill of the fast lane.

But Katie has been around long enough to see that feeling change in other women – the ones who've been on the circuit for ages, who've seen it all and maybe gotten a bit tired of the whole thing. It's hard for her to even picture herself in that spot, to imagine life being any different from what it is now.

Especially during the Canadian Grand Prix, that's when someone special took notice of Katie. An insider from Ferrari, whose name shall remain confidential; a person with a lot of influence within the team and whose role is not entirely undisclosed. This insider handed Katie a golden ticket: credentials and an invitation to join them on the road. 

No longer having to jump from bus to bus, Katie arrived with the Ferrari roadies. The sound of tools clinking as the crew was setting up everything for the upcoming race created a magical symphony. In that moment, as a witness of the behind-the-scenes hustle and with the anticipation building up for the race, the thought of ever going home doesn't cross her mind.

"I just want to help," she whines.

They're in Mexico now, and it's Katie's first time in the country. But for their first day, Charles and Carlos decided to stay in, saying they needed to concentrate. For Katie, witnessing moments like these were a job, the reason she felt like a part of the circuit. She would linger in the center of the bed, offering words of encouragement or simply watching a movie together. Sometimes there would be other girls in the room, sometimes it was just her. Regardless, things never ventured further from that.

“No, you’re bored. And that’s dangerous, honestly.” Carlos stands firm on his answer.

It’s not like he’s not interested in what she’s offering, or that he hasn’t thought about it – it’s the reason why she’s asking that’s bothering him. Charles, on the other hand, has been waiting months for an excuse. But he had a deal with his teammates and a commitment in maintaining the appearances; so he kept his mouth shut, trying to appear as if he was agreeing with everything being said.

“Then entertain me.” Katie asks.

Maybe it's the uninspiring color of the walls or the constant thud of the tennis ball from the TV, but Katie is genuinely bored.

“Begging is not a good look on you.” Carlos says, finally turning to look at her. He playfully flicks her forehead, but there's a fire in his eyes that Katie takes mental note of, a memory she'll save to use against him eventually.

PART II — GASOLINE

The soft hum of a distant air conditioner mingles with the rhythmic clinking of ice cubes in a near-empty bar. The bartender, wiping down the counter, shoots a casual nod in their direction. Katie sits on a stool, a cold drink in her hand, condensation leaving delicate droplets on the polished surface.

Emily leans on the bar, an easy smile playing on her lips. The bar stools around them remain unoccupied and the only soundtrack is the soft chatter between friends and the occasional clink of glasses.

Emily was Katie's first friend in the racing world, and their connection came from their shared love for fast cars. Emily, being a couple years older and having a couple years more experience in the racing scene, became a sort of guide for Katie. So, when Katie talked about feeling unsure, Emily felt like she had to share some advice. Their talk wasn't just a casual chat; it was a mentorship.

“Baby girl, just be completely yourself. Be yourself to the fullest, unapologetically you." Emily declares. “Everything we do here is for love. Don’t worry, Artemis will forgive you.”

Katie, wearing her trademark graphic t-shirt and mini skirt, watches as the ice in her drink slowly melts under the Mexican heat. At 19, she's a college dropout who left her family behind to chase the adrenaline-soaked circuits of F1.

But being a young impressionable woman in this testosterone-charged arena came with its own set of challenges. She feels herself staring at the edge of an abyss, ready to jump, but held back by the fear of the unknown. The realization settles in – once she takes that leap, there's no turning back.

Emily, carrying the confidence of someone who took that jump long ago, continues, "And I know it feels like women are not allowed to love. Every time we're passionate about something, no matter how we express it, we end up as the punchline to some misogynist joke. Even if I wasn't sleeping with these guys, people would still treat me like I was. They already made up their minds about me long before they met me." Emily shares. She’s talking about the scrutiny they face, especially within the high-stakes world of the paddock, is a reality they've grown accustomed to. The lingering gazes of multi-millionaires, the subtle condescension in their voices – it's all part of the package. “And we’re not even getting paid!”

PART III — DARK NECESSITIES

It’s only in Vegas that she manages to put her plan into action. Getting Charles alone in a room is easier than she imagined. There are no distractions here – no photoshoots, no interviews, no fans asking for autographs –, no one’s watching. The city’s energy seems to fade and they are completely isolated in a hotel room.

The night unfolds in the heart of Sin City, the stakes are high, and in the quietude of the hotel room, Katie wonders if she's playing her cards right.

For a moment, Katie sheds the layers of her public persona, existing only as a woman whose body burns with an unmistakable yearning for the man before her; a woman with desires as palpable as the heat radiating through the room.

Charles breaks the silence that hangs between them. "Katie," he murmurs, his eyes locked onto hers, "are you sure?"

Katie, her gaze unwavering, listens to his words, simply nods. A silent affirmation, a surrender.

"Good girl," Charles whispers, his fingers gently brushing her hair behind her ears. His lips trail down her cheek, seeking the softness of her neck. In this moment, he's attempting to play the part of a gentleman, aware that this is Katie's first time. His breath, a subtle inhale, captures the scent of vanilla on her skin.

She feels a vulnerability she never felt before. Her body reacts instinctively, welcoming him as a lover. She has been waiting for this moment for too long.

“You’re gonna let me touch you, hm?” Charles's voice is muffled as he gently kisses her throat. “You’re going to let me be your first?”

A combination of trust and apprehension lingers within her.

“Yes. Yes.” Katie gasps. She leaves behind any trace of inhibition left and is ready to let him do whatever he wants to her.

Charles, driven by a mix of desire and curiosity, is eager to explore and to taste every inch of her. He takes her to bed and slowly takes off her shirt and bra, kissing her shoulder and leaving little bites along the way. He traces the curves of her breasts with the tip of his tongue, making her euphoric, arousing her even further – making her fully realize just how much she craves his touch. Charles captures her nipple between his teeth, gently sucking on it until it becomes erect under his touch.

He lets his hand slide, under her mini skirt and on top of her panties. Feeling the warmth of his hand on her clothed wet core, Katie lets out a sigh. For her it feels like it takes forever until they’re both naked and Charles has his head buried in between her legs. His lips touch her clit and he’s patient with his kisses, enjoying her innocent taste as much as he can. Charles drags his tongue through the length of her slit, parting her lips with his fingers and sending shivers throughout her entire body.

Charles takes his sweet time opening her up. The neon glow from the outside world seeps through the curtains; as the night deepens, the city pulses with life, unaware of the affair unfolding within the walls of the hotel room.

For a brief moment, everything fades away and Katie’s breathing accelerates, her hips buck involuntarily against his fingers.

“Don’t stop!” Katie urges, desperate to reach her climax. She surrenders to pleasure, moaning loudly as Charles’s tongue explores her more sensitive area.

That’s when they hear a knock on the door. Followed by another. Whoever is outside starts incessantly banging their fist against the wooden door. Startled, they exchange a brief, wide-eyed glance.

“Who is it?” Charles calls out, his voice tinged with irritation; Katie remains wrapped in the bedsheet.

Without receiving an answer, the door swings open, revealing Carlos's stern expression. His eyes flicker between Charles and Katie, registering the scene before him.

"What the hell, Charles?" Sainz's voice carries a mix of frustration and disappointment. 

Katie feels a sense of exposure, caught between the two men. Leclerc, caught off guard, stammers in response, "Carlos, I... I didn't think you'd mind. It's just..."

Carlos's gaze intensifies, his disappointment morphing into a subtle betrayal. "We had an agreement," he says, his voice strained. "You weren't supposed to do anything without me." Carlos's eyes shift to Katie, his demeanor changing to one of confidence and dominance. "And you, young lady," he asserts, "you got what you wanted?"

"Not yet," Katie answers, a spark of defiance in her eyes. The tension in the room escalates, the air thick with desire. She notices Carlos eyes lingering on her exposed body. It feels empowering, intoxicating. The anticipation turns her arousal to a fever pitch.

“I want to watch.” Carlos states boldly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Since you decided you wanted to do this without me, at least be kind enough to let me watch.”

Katie doesn’t feel like she has a choice, her body has already decided what it wants. Charles lets out a quiet laugh, trying not to appear overly assured in this unexpected turn of events. He wraps his arm around Katie, pulling her closer. Her heartbeat quickens. When Charles reaches for her hand, she takes it, her eyes never leaving Carlos’s face. The pleasure pulsing through her is intense. Carlos moves and positions himself beside them. A second later, there is the unmistakable sound of Carlos's belt buckle being undone. He slips himself free.

Her attention turns back to Charles, who’s preparing himself to finally give her what she wants. She leans in to kiss him, inviting him deeper. Carlos’s eyes stay fixed on Katie as he watches Charles slip into position. Charles’s breath is hot on her ear, filled with lust and excitement. Her muscles are still tight from her lack of experience, but soon, she relaxes and lets go. 

He enters slowly, savoring each moment. Charles moans softly, eyes closing as he holds her close.  She bites down on her lip, managing to hold back her cries of ecstasy. This is her first time, so it hurts slightly, but also brings such blissful sensations that she can barely contain herself. The anticipation builds until, finally, she can take no more. "Charles," she whispers, reaching up to grasp his neck. Charles wraps his arm tightly around her waist, gently holding her in place. 

Her entire body shakes as her orgasm hits, her release ripping through her. When she comes down from the high, she hears Carlos exhale loudly. He doesn't move, only watches her in admiration.

She opens her eyes and looks up. Instinctively, Katie leans forward to take his member into her mouth. She enjoys every moment of his warm girth sliding down her throat. Charles continues to fuck her troughout it. She sucks harder, with passion, like she was made for this.  She realizes that, actually, she was. 

And with that realization, Carlos spills himself on her soft mouth. She pulls away from him, his seed dripping down her chin. She closes her eyes and returns her attention to Charles, still buried deep inside her, just in time for his release – he comes with a growl, guttural, moaning in her ear. 

Afterwards, they lie in bed together, recovering. Charles strokes her hair as Carlos cuddles with her. Charles gives her a gentle smile.  "You're really something special, you know that?" He whispers. 

[elliesgaythoughts]

Just some random sfw Ellie head cannons🫶

a/n: one of my first writings, it was on my old page, y’all might’ve saw it before🧡

🧡When you’re arguing with her and she doesn’t wanna hear it she justs lifts her leg pointing her ass at you and makes an obnoxious fart sound with her mouth before walking outta the room.

🧡Ellie that is a burt’s bees typa girl.

🧡Ellie that repetitively ties and unties her sweatpants drawstrings when she’s nervous.

🧡Ellie that efinitely swears in front of the elderly but wouldn’t dare mutter a damn in front of a kid.

🧡Ellie that absolutely loves the grown up movies. She thinks Adam sander is the shit, she looks at him as a role model and a fashion icon.

🧡Ellie that’s barred from the library for taking a whole collection of starlight comics and not returning them when she was a kid.

🧡She had a blast music on the bus phase.

🧡Leaning on that she’s also talks so loud on the phone when she’s on the bus and she says the most outta pocket shit just to see the old man’s across from her jaw drop.

🧡Ellie that adores stand up comedy, she tries to retell the jokes and always stutters half way through and obviously that’s the only time you actually laugh so her face screws up and she dramatically flees the scene pretending to cry, till you apologise to her profusely and promise to listen to her 30 minute bit she wrote that’s just insults about jesses appearance.

🧡Ellie that absolutely hates Birkenstocks, she calls them Jesus sandals and pretends to puke every time she sees them.