#the top photo is the view from my study

[post-futurism]

shot with my Amex on black and white for the first time, really pleased with the results

[coffeeismycallsign]

Watching fall roll in from above 🌥

[chunghasweetie]

𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐎 | J.JK

— part 2

— pairing | dom!oc x nerdy sub!jjk

— summary | loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

virginity loss, cussing, corruption kink, female dom, light dirty talk, belittling, dick sucking, unprotected sex, etc

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | rush — william singe

His nerves were tingling with anxiety. He had imagined a day like this since he laid eyes on her.

His crush first stemmed from middle school. Then it followed him through high school, and now his college career.

Y/n had always been the typical token super pretty and popular girl. She was funny too, he couldn’t help but giggle to himself when she was making jokes with her friends across the room.

Jungkook was beyond nervous. He’s had a crush on her forever, and now he was standing in front of her home for their very first tutoring session.

Jungkook had arrived at Y/n’s home, exhaling to himself. “I can do this.” He mumbled before knocking on her door.

The door opened and there she was. A short denim mini skirt and a matching top.

He was already done for.

“Oh hey Jungkook.” She smiled, “You’re here already. I didn’t think you’d be early. Come in.”

He feels his heart skip a beat as Y/n opens the door, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

“H-hi! Yes, it's me” He clears his throat. “Thank you for inviting me inside.” He steps inside, taking in the sight of her apartment.

“Of course.” She led him to the dining room table her hips swaying in her mini skirt that showed off her figure beautifully.

His eyes widen and follow her every move, watching as she leads him to the dining room table.

He can't help but feel a rush of excitement as he takes in the sight of her hips swaying in her skirt.

He had never imagined they’d be in such a small space. Alone with her. His heart could almost explode with excitement.

Her home didn’t look much like the google maps photos like he seen online.

“Is right here okay?” She asked him, her table with the notebooks and studying material she needed already set up.

He swallows hard and nods, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I-It’s fine.”

The two sat at her table studying, Jungkook using more complex language than she was used to.

She could grasp some of it, but Y/n wasn’t necessarily the strongest in the subject.

“I’ve always sucked at math. Let alone calculus.” She laughed. “It must be nice to know everything.”

He chuckles nervously, shaking his head. “No, not everything. Just... some things. Math is definitely my strong suit.” He takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before turning his attention to her math homework “Okay, let's continue.”

She simply nodded. She leaned closer to him, reading the book that was further in his direction.

Her breasts were huge. He wondered how her posture managed to stay so straight with those jugs weighing her down.

Her right breast was pressed against his shoulder, driving him crazy.

He tries to focus on the homework, but finds himself distracted by her low cut top and her large breasts on view.

He can't help but glance, feeling his face flush with embarrassment as he realizes she might notice. “Uh, so... uh...”

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked him.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes I'm fine. It's just... uh... hot in here.” He tries to refocus on her homework assignment, but his mind keeps drifting to her body and how close she's standing next to him.

“I’ll go turn the ac on” She got up, hips swaying as she went to turn on the AC. She eventually came back. “Better?” She sat back down.

‘Someone kill me.’ Jungkook thought to himself.

He tries to focus on the books and studying material, but his gaze keeps drifting back to her exposed thighs and the way her skirt rides up

He nods, grateful for the cooler air. He watches as she sits back down next to him, hips swaying in a way that makes his heart race.

“This is so hard” She groaned. “Calculus is so difficult.”

He nods in agreement, trying to stifle a smile at her cute groan. “Yeah, uh... It can be tough sometimes.”

He starts going over the problem with her, letting his hand rest on hers gently as he points out what she did wrong.

“I think it’s the table.” She tells him. “I focus more on my bed, it’s where I’m most comfortable. Jungkook, would you be okay studying there with me?” Y/n suggested.

His heart races at the thought of having her in a more private setting, but he knows he shouldn't let his crush get the best of him.

He nods and starts gathering the homework assignments and books. “Yeah— sure, let's move to the couch.”

She smirked to herself on the way to her bedroom. Her plan was working perfectly, and working quicker than she expected.

His eyes widened at her room. He was finally inside. He always seen a few corners when he was stalking her Instagram late at night, but now being there in person sent him over the edge.

It was so her. The decorations, the layout, the scent. It was perfectly her.

“Much better” She sat down on her bed, starting to write in her notes with him.

He watches as she writes, trying not to get too distracted by the way her hair falls over her shoulders and the way she bites her lip in concentration.

He clears his throat and starts going over the problems again, trying to focus on the homework instead of his crush.

About an hour had passed of them studying, and she was beyond bored. Y/n was over hearing about stupid questions she had no interest in finding the solution for.

“Like I said, when you plug in the formula—“

“Don’t you have a girlfriend waiting on you?” Y/n interrupted him. “You’ve been here for a while.”

“I-I don’t have one.” He swallowed. “And I told the professor I’d spend as much time as needed for you to pass.”

He was still talking about school, making her boredom increase. “Do you do anything outside of school?” She changed the topic.

He blinks at her, surprised by the sudden question. He fidgets with his glasses and stammers a bit before answering. “I...I go to the internet cafe with my friends and do coding and stuff.. I help code games and such. It's...it's not very exciting, but it keeps me busy.”

“Cute.” She chuckled. “So you’re like a full time nerd?”

He blushes at her teasing and nods, looking down at his hands. “Y-yes, I suppose you could say that. I do enjoy learning and electronics...and working on computers gives me a chance to use my skills to help others. It's...it's important to me.“

“Is that why you’re single?” She asked him. “Too busy studying and programming?”

He nodded.

Wasn’t necessarily the entire truth. Some of the other girls at the cafe definitely took an interest but he was all about you.

He was a quiet guy but he always spoke up about you. All of his friends at the internet cafe knew about his crush on you. He would be teased daily because well, look at him and you.

He didn’t care. He knew from the start it wasn’t realistic considering the crowds you stuck around with.

Jungkook would rather be at home with his computer while you’d be parting with sororities and frat boys.

“You’re a busy guy hm? Well when was the last time you’ve had a girlfriend?” Y/n asked him, moving the text books as she inched closer.

“I-I— Well.” He swallowed, “I’ve never had one before..” He itched the back of his neck.

Her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“It just— never happened.” He told her.

“That’s just so hard to believe.” She analyzed him with her feline like eyes.. “I think you’re really handsome and cute.”

“Really?” His voice came out a lot louder than he meant to, clearing his throat. “Y-You do?”

She nodded, “I always have.” She suddenly climbed on his lap, making Jungkook let out a slight gasp in surprise.

He looks up at her in surprise, his heart beating faster at her words. He stammers out a thank you, feeling his face heat up again. “I...I'm...I'm glad you think so...”

“It’s okay if I sit here right?” She asked, making him nod rather quickly.

“Good.” She giggled. “So you’ve never had a girlfriend… you at least have lost your virginity right?”

Jungkook looked away shyly. “N-No..”

She had always had the reputation of being the popular pretty girl. Her entire friend group and social circle was like that. So naturally it was expected for her to end up with a frat guy.

Y/n had been with a few, and was absolutely bored out of her mind. They were cocky and disgusting, seeming to like their bros more than actual women.

She had no interest in anyone like that.

She always had a thing for nerdy and loser men who looked like they had never had a chance with losing their virginity.

Her friends were always teasing her about her type. No one could understand how she could really be attracted to a guy like that.

Y/n noticed Jungkook towards her sophomore year of high school. He had always been attractive to her but she really took a notice to him at that time.

He was tall, handsome, and quiet. Super shy. The only time she had seen him really talk was during a history presentation when he had to read off some slides.

Her horny teenage brain definitely took notice towards the bulge in his pants whenever she looked his way.

Y/n was always with her friend group and Jungkook was always in way better and smarter classes than her. He never had any social media either, so she never had the chance to really make a move on him.

It was now their junior year in college and once she heard he was assigned to be her tutor, she had to do something.

Jungkook had hardly ever kissed a girl. A girl pecked his lips in his junior year of high school and he absolutely hated it.

Hated it because it wasn’t her.

She shifts on his lap. “That’s so cute. Are you waiting for someone to take it?”

He nodded quickly. He was hard as a rock. Her skirt was practically all the way lifted as she sat on his lap, driving him insane.

“Mm I’d be honored to volunteer.” She suggested.

“T-Take it— P-please.” He was practically whimpering out to her.

She didn’t waste her time, leaning forward to kiss his lips. She wasn’t too rough on him, but she definitely was working her lips on his.

“Gonna make you feel real good.” She smacked her lips against his, grabbing his hands, placing them over her ass cheeks. “Grab it okay?”

Jungkook bent his fingers, now holding her ass in his hands.

She traveled her lips down to the crook of his neck, creating a trail of dark hickeys.

Y/n was grinding on his lap with her skirt on as she marked up his neck. “No hickeys before either?”

There was no way this was really happening. Jungkook could go into shock. This was even better than he had ever imagined.

His breathing becomes heavier and heavier as she grinds on his lap, feeling the friction between their bodies.

He moans as she marks up his neck, his mind clouded with pleasure. He whimpers as she asks about hickeys, shaking his head slightly. “N-no...”

“You’re so much more vocal than I imagined. and I’m just kissing you.” She giggled.

He blushes profusely as she speaks about his vocalness, feeling embarrassed at how turned on he is by her touch.

He looks up at her as she pulls away from his neck, seeing the marks she left on his skin.

“So cute..” She pulled away from his neck. “All marked up, it looks intense.” She grabbed her handheld mirror, showing him what she did to him.

He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently. seeing the marks she left on his skin. He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently.

“You’re comfy right baby?” She asked him, making sure he was at ease while she tainted him.

“I-I’m fine.” He shakes his head, leaning into her touch as she runs her fingers through his hair. “N-no... it just... makes me want more... of you...” He confesses, feeling vulnerable and honest in front of her.

“You’re more than ready to lose your virginity huh baby?” She baby talked him. “Poor baby wants to be touched so bad.”

He blushes deeply at her words, nodding slowly. He's been a virgin for so long and he wants nothing more than to experience it with her.

“Y-yes...” He stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. I want to... be with you...”

“I’m almost there sweetheart. You’re doing so good being patient for me.” She comforted, seeing how whiny and desperate he was. It didn’t help that he was incredibly hard under her.

Her praises were driving him insane and she hadn’t even took his pants off yet. “Wha— What now?” He asks softly, hoping he doesn't sound too desperate.

She was practically drooling over the sight of him. His dick had been teasing her for centuries through his jeans, and she finally had it at her disposal.

He lets out a involuntary gasp as she unzips his pants and pulls out his dick. He blushes as she compliments him on his size. He never thought anyone would say that about him. “I-it's not that big...”

“You’re so humble.” She smirked. “I don’t even think I’ll be able to fit it inside me or my mouth.” She chuckled. “Let me know if it’s too much. Mm gonna sit on it first okay? Don’t have a condom so you’re going to have to pull out when you feel it okay?”

He nodded eagerly. “I-I’ll try my best.”

“That’s all I can ask of you.” She latched her lips onto his lips once more before sliding herself onto him, making their lips disconnect from their moans.

He was a mess from the start. Her pussy was so tight and wet, driving him insane.

He had always imagined what it would feel like but this was even better.

“O-Oh wow.” He whined, “F-Feels so t-tight”

Y/n bounced on him slowly, allowing him to feel all of her.

“It’s good huh baby?” Y/n cooed. “You’re so big baby”

“Mmph— it’s so wet—“ He whimpered.

He lets out a gasp, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab onto her hips for support. "F-fuck!"

She was moving her hips in a rhythmic motion that sent waves of pleasure coursing through his entire body. He moans softly, biting his lip to keep from making too much noise.

Y/n took a notice of his actions. “Don’t want you being quiet. I’ve waited so long to have you like this.” She stopped moving on top of him.

Jungkook's eyes snap open as Y/n stops moving, his cock throbbing with need and frustration at the sudden lack of stimulation.

He looks up at her with a desperate expression, pleading for her to continue with his actions. "P-please..."

She grabbed his neck subtly, not enough to really hurt him. She turned his chin to the side, “Covered you in so many hickeys, all for you to be quiet now?”

Jungkook's heart races as Y/n grabs his neck, a small whimper escaping his lips at the touch. He looks at her with a mixture of surprise and arousal, his mind racing at the sudden change in her demeanor. "I-I'm sorry...”

“What’re you going to do differently if I keep moving?” She growled into his ear. “Tell me. Use that pretty mouth.”

Jungkook's breath hitches as Y/n growls in his ear, his heart pounding in his chest. He swallows hard, trying to find the words to answer her question. "I-I'll... I'll make more noise...”

“Good boy…” She began moving again, “Mm— feels so good” Y/n moaned into his ear.

Jungkook's eyes roll back in pleasure as Y/n begins moving again, her moans in his ear sending chills down his spine.

He grips the sheets beneath him tightly, his body trembling with need as she bouncing on him. "F-fuck...I— never imagined p-pussy would be this good”

His desperate pleas sent her over the edge. She loved how he was so whiny and desperate all for her.

“Never baby?” She hummed, her voice sensually whispering against his ear.

Jungkook lets out a low groan as Y/n’s words register in his head, his mind filled with filthy thoughts. He nods his head, unable to find the words to speak. "N-no... I never thought... f-fuck..."

He was absolutely pussydrunk, the feeling of his cock being sunk into her pussy made him go insane.

If he was already obsessed with her before, he knew he was absolutely fucked now. “I-I m-might… mmgh…”

She knew how lost he was in her pussy, knowing he was close to cumming at any second.

She quickly got up off his cock, making him whimper at the sudden separation.

“Can’t have you cum inside baby.” She hushed him, knowing he was about to complain.

“I-I want to cum so bad— Please let me” He whined.

“You’re gonna cum baby. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She made her way off his lap.

She got in between his legs and on her knees. “Gonna suck you off pretty boy.”

She had no problem sucking him off after he was just inside of her. She opened her mouth, licking his tip to test the waters.

He can't help but moan as she licks his tip. He doesn't know what came over him, he bites his lip as she starts bobbing her head up and down on him.

He lets out a deep moan as she takes him all in. He's never felt anything like this before. He tries to hold back, but he can feel himself already getting close. He whined, warning her that he's about to cum.

She let him cum all in her mouth, not dare wasting a single drop as she swallowed.

He couldn’t believe what just happened. He's cumming in her mouth and she's swallowing every drop. He's never felt so satisfied in his life. He pulls out and pants. “Thank you... that was amazing.”

He was so infatuated with her. He had been beating his dick for years, whining and whimpering in his bedroom at merely the idea of his dick being sucked by her.

He blushes and stutters, trying to find the words. He can't believe what just happened.

“Y-you.. it was... amazing. I don't know what to say. Thank you.” He turns to face her, his eyes filled with gratitude as he repeated his thanks.

The two hung out for a bit longer, actually getting her tutoring done. She giggled. “i’ll see you at school tomorrow.” She waved as they bid their goodbyes.

He smiles and nods, still in shock about what happened. “Y-yeah, see you then.” He watches her shut the door, his heart racing with excitement. He can't believe she just sucked his dick, took his virginity, and then he was back to tutoring her.

His dreams finally came true.

༊—

The next day she was walking with her friends, and seemed to pass Jungkook’s friends group. She could hear Jungkook’s friends teasing him.

“Bro you have a hickey?!” They stared at his neck in amazement, adjusting their glasses to look closely.

Like stated, they were nobodies. All of them. Never had any interactions with women in their lives.

Jungkook covers his neck with his hand, trying to hide the hickey. He didn't realize it was so obvious, but he's glad he got it. He can't stop thinking about last night and her. “Sh-shut up gu-guys!”

His face turns bright red, shushing them and trying to avoid any more attention. “F-Fuck this is embarrassing.” He can't help but think about her again and the amazing time they had last night. He's already looking forward to seeing her again and continuing their tutoring sessions.

Y/n’s friends looked over at the boys. “What do you think that’s all about?” They asked amongst themselves.

“Why does it matter? Probably just some boring video game release. Or maybe a new textbook was added to the library!” One of the girls laughed.

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, knowing damn well there would be more where that came from.

[ham1lton]

superstar.

pairings: oscar piastri x uni student!reader.

faceclaim: _jannah on ig!

summary: lando knows oscar is hiding something from him. he attempts to go on the hunt but unbeknownst to him, the truth is an open secret. he’s dating you, the incredibly smart, talented child prodigy.

— part five of my 500 followers celebration ♡ —

————————————————————————

liked by oscarpiastri, friend1 and 12,728 others.

yourusername: travelling is cool and all but i miss coming back to pepper. show jumping is my one true love. <3

view all comments

friend1: babe omg where did you go?

->yourusername: internship in new york! very blessed and the pizzas were incredible.

user56: where is ur bf? miss his comments on ur vlogs.

-> yourusername: he’s working!! hopefully he can rejoin us again soon <3

user1: she’s living the life.

-> user7: being pretty, smart and athletic? that could have been me if bed rotting wasn’t so addictive.

-> user9: me if my mama didn’t perm my hair 😒

user2: oscar… babe 🤨 why are u in her likes…

-> user5: she has good study tips! maybe he’s into that content?

-> user2: girl i think he wanna do a different kind of studying w/ her if u get my drift…..

-> user5: ?? virtual or in person i’m confused…

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

liked by yourbffname, logansargeant and 32,838 others.

yourusername: my two weeks off have been very productive as you can see.

view all comments

yourbffname: omg is that *****

-> yourusername: you don’t have to censor him 😭

-> yourbffname: i don’t like typing men’s names. i’m allergic.

friend1: you look so pretty!!

user2: TWO WEEKS NO Y/N VLOG…. SHAKING FROM WITHDRAWAL…

-> yourusername: i’m coming back next week! <3

oscarpiastri: are you single?

-> yourusername: no.

-> oscarpiastri: damn.. i hope he dies.

-> yourusername: WHAT?!!

user7: not oscar flirting with y/n when she has a bf?

-> user27: he’s a homewrecker ew :/

————————————————————————

liked by landonorris, user76 and 1,288,929 others.

yourusername: date night <3

photo creds — oscarpiastri

view all comments

user12: not oscar third wheeling? 😭

-> oscarpiastri: use ur critical thinking skills. thanks. 👍🏻

user3: MORE BF VLOGS? 😁

-> yourusername: he said yes 😍‼️

user6: being a gorgeous show jumping debate president who studies at a top ten university on a full scholarship with a hot formula one driver bf? i’m so jealous!!

-> user9: real 😩 living vicariously through her

user90: oscarpiastri have you met pepper the horse yet?

-> oscarpiastri: i have. she loves me.

-> yourusername: only because you bribe her with apples and she loves apples. he classically conditioned her.

logansargeant: NOOOO THE SECRET IS OUT…. lando was going to get me a car next….

landonorris: if i buy you a car yourusername will you tell me all of oscar’s embarrassing stories?

-> yourusername: i am very loyal. i will not sell out so easily…

-> yourusername: but… just for curiosity’s sake. what car?

-> oscarpiastri: NO 😟😰

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

taglist: @23victoria @luckyladycreator2 @alexmarie29 @mxdi0 @booksandflowrs @cuteskz @purplephantomwolf @casperlikej @nichmeddar @decafmickey @evie-119 @moviecritc @wildflowermarns @lichterfee @d3kstar @f1kenzzz @ravisinghs-wife @blupblupfish @demvnsriot @ajvaix @au-ghosttype @thehistoryone @raevyng @colmathgames2 @iloveyou3000morgan @namgification @formulaal @firelily-mimi @lemon-lav @67-angelofthelordme-67 @snapeeballsack @bernelflo @mehrmonga (wanna be removed? let me know via ask!)

— want to join my taglist? join here!

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 1)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Prologue, Part 2

summary: After the breakup, you move into a new place.

warnings: no warnings! cheeky bit of angst at the end

a/n: this is me admitting that realistically, miguel would be sick of our shit.

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here <3

wc: 4.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

or in the cold, crisp morn:

"These are the keys," Your new landlord hands you the copies, clinking against each other as you transfer them to a dish by the door. Your first thought is that there seem to be too many for this modest apartment: of varying shapes and sizes, and at least half a dozen. He steps through a wide archway to the kitchen, eerily clean. It's not modern by any means,  the top half of a hulking brownstone some time away from college.

It’s been… a trying summer. Moving halfway across the country with your boyfriend had seemed like a great idea at the time. Younger you (barely 2 years ago) had been enamoured with the promises of city life: fast-paced, bustling, and never a dull day. Naivete and big ideas that you'd been too stupid, or maybe too desperate, to let go of. After being locked in a loop of the same 3 or 4 places, the same dozen faces - in a place as big as this, mind you - maybe your ex-boyfriend had freed you. Forced you from that halfway-home; as cold and empty as it had become; and back out into the world. 

The reality was less than ideal - apartment hopping across the city for the past 4 months or so. You’d seen it all: glorified shoeboxes, fancy duplexes, viewing sublet rooms that were at least a little illegal. A box within a box within a box; coat closets rented out for double your monthly take home; and you had just about given up.

So this place seemed like a godsend: a brownstone, tucked away. Its interior is dated, but gorgeous. It had character: quirks and rich history in the brick and mortar. A fireplace tucked into the corner, window alcoves, wood panelling. Yes, the wallpaper was slightly warped with damp  but it’s affordable - a reasonably priced gem that had made you jump when you saw the ad. With the overexposed and pixelated images, they didn’t do it justice.

You pad into the kitchen, running your hands on the smooth countertops. They’re bare and spotless - suspiciously so. Not many personal items, no fridge magnets, photos; nary a blanket on the sofa or half eaten plate of toast on the worktop. It’s so clean it feels staged, and it makes you squint. Isn’t there meant to be…

“I let Miguel know… he must’ve cleaned up the place-”

“Miguel?”

“The other tenant.” He pauses, boots clicking on the grain of the floorboard. “I don’t think he’ll be back until later tonight. Should give you some time to settle in.” 

Nodding, you give him a small smile, and he steps out of the apartment. Your apartment.

~~~

You fill the rest of day with unpacking, putting some life into the place. You’d visited not long ago, fantasising about how you’d decorate. Something about sharing an apartment with your boyfriend for the past 2 years had done something to you: flattening and squeezing into a space not built with you in mind. How Jamie didn't like things on the walls, or how he needed the space for his textbooks, so why don't you find somewhere else to put your little stories? If his desk took up half the front room, then that makes sense, he needs it for work. But God forbid you needed a quiet space to study; what if the guest bedroom has your shit everywhere when his friends come over? A million compromises that didn't seem much like compromises: you'd give an inch and he'd take a mile. And so, the space to spread your wings without knocking over a gaudy plaque or two was very much appreciated. 

You want to walk around the neighbourhood, map out the convenience stores, bodegas, community hotspots and hubs. Where's the best place to get a drink? The cheapest meal? Your usual haunts were a fair distance away, so maybe you'll make the trek and pick up waffles from Pam's, as a treat. Tired already, you slump on the sofa - a tattered old thing that can clearly take a beating. Looking around the place, something settles solidly at your chest. Contentment, maybe, a strange feeling considering the past few months. This will do, you think. This will do. 

Perhaps it's not a very feminist thought, but you're not thriving . Thriving felt presumptuous, and yet coping seemed too complete a word - its implication too tidy, too neat. A mess, before; better, now…? And it didn't quite span the width and depth of the past few months; how long it had taken for the numbness to make way to anger, hot and intense - its flame fueling many a long night. And yet, maybe coping was just the way to describe your foray into this new chapter: a new year, new apartment, and whatever that brings. You had forgotten what it felt like to be alone; not lonely, but with only your own self for company. Without the ache of another person, for the first time in a while. 

…except, you had a roommate. Which you had known when signing the lease, of course, but it's taken some time to sink in. What that means for you - a new person to tiptoe around and appease - you're not too sure yet. What is he like? He's out late, so maybe a chronic partygoer - sloppy drunk and vivacious, the life of the party. He might clatter into the apartment, chattering and bubbly. What do you know about him? From the apartment, as is, it doesn't tell you much. At first glance, it had looked too clean, but not unreasonably so if he had anticipated your arrival. No, it was the lack of personal effects that confused you. How long has he been living here and there aren't any pictures or knick knacks? To clutter is to be human, you think. And with the front room as blank as it is, you wonder just what kind of man he is. 

It's getting late. Naturally, you do some snooping, lazily padding around in search of life. Onwards and upwards, to new frontiers: the cupboards and drawers in your new apartment. 

He likes coffee, you learn. There's a fancy machine on the kitchen counter, glossy and shiny and clearly taken care of. Little packets of beans and filters line the cupboards, all with names you can't quite pronounce. The fridge is similarly well-stocked, with none of the junk food you've gotten accustomed to in the past few months. Its innards are leafy green and plush; labelled tupperware with leftovers notwithstanding. All the spices in a tray above the oven and fancy knives on the wall tell you he likes to cook, or rather, he likes to eat well. The lack of junk would take some getting used to - maybe he's a health nut? The type to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, to blend oddly coloured smoothies, and "reflect" after a long day of… dog walking or something. 

You move on to the living room, running a light hand over the deep walnut of a side table behind the sofa. Again, it's oddly bare. When you tug at the drawers, it's brassy handles are solid. Locked. Kneeling, you run a hand across the larger cupboard door at its base. You pull at it, and it pops open with a click. Inside, it seems empty, save for a dusty box nestled in the back corner. With your top half almost completely inside its depths, you move it into the light. 

It's old, a battered shoebox adorned with coloured sharpie - shaky drawings of flowers blossoming from its sides. The cardboard crackles when you open it. It's full of junk, mostly: half-dead pens, broken crayons, dried flowers, and little plastic toys - the kind you get from cereal boxes and happy meals. And, there's something peeking out. Confused, you dig a little deeper, to uncover a pair of… soccer cleats? They're tiny, clearly for a kid but seem barely worn, with minimal scuffing on the plastic blades. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" A voice from above rumbles, and your head snaps up like a rubber band. You hadn't noticed the door open, and you are met face to face with, who you assume to be, your roommate. 

He doesn't shout: tall, broad, and back straight by the door. He's got a backpack slung over his shoulder, dressed in a crisp white shirt and slacks. His name was… Miguel? Miguel crosses his arms, brows furrowed in quiet rage. Fuck. 

"I was just looking for.. uhh…" 

You know how it looks. It's the worst time for your brain to go blank, and you're left holding the hypothetical bag. You stand up a little too quickly, and smack your knee on the lip of the table. Half of the box spills onto the floor and you dart downwards, embarrassed. 

" Shit. Sorry, let me-" 

He leaps towards the floor, and you're forced behind him, as he scrambles to put everything in its place. You start to help and he stops, stock-still. As if in slow motion, his head turns to the side and he gives you a look that could kill thousands. Retreating, you shrink back, only able to watch helplessly. 

" Chica tonta... ¿se crió en un rancho? ¿qué clase de persona entra en casa de alguien y toca todas sus cosas?" He's muttering something under his breath - too fast and not saying anything you can understand. Pausing, he throws you a look. "...y luego me ve como si yo fuera el que está mal- ojos grandes y bonitos como de perrito pateado...oh dios mío.-" 

[silly little girl… was she raised in a barn? what kind of person walks into someone's house and touches all of their stuff? // and she looks at me like I'm the one in the wrong - big, pretty eyes like a kicked puppy… oh my god-] 

He's gentle with the box, the way he puts it in its place contrasting his mood a couple of seconds before. He closes up the door and you stumble to your feet. In the glow of halogen bulbs, he follows, arms crossed like a mother hen. 

"I think… I think I'm your new roommate?" You say your name and  stretch out a hand, but Miguel doesn't move. You watch as his eyes sweep over your body, shameless. 

"Are you asking, or telling me?" He sighs, pinching at his temples. 

"...Telling?" You offer him a weak smile, and he cracks.

Softening, ever so slightly, he grumbles. "I know. I know. Mr Estévez said you would be in tomorrow, though."

"I like to be early." 

"Right. Well… don't do that. Again, I mean." He clears his throat. "Don't touch my shit either. It's too… fuck , it's too late for this. I'm going to bed."

He kicks off his shoes, and all you can do is watch as he saunters off; the door to his room shutting with a resounding slam .

~~~

His name is Miguel O'Hara - not that he told you that, or anything. He hasn't spoken to you much at all, leaving you to figure out who he is and what he does from vague clues around the apartment. You don't go snooping , learning quickly from previous mistakes; but his full name on a letter slotted through the mail was fair game, you think. The most you've gotten out of him were grunts and frustrated requests to keep to your shelf in the fridge. 

Passive-aggressive wasn't in his vocabulary, you’re convinced. A plethora of dirty looks in his arsenal? Sure. Plenty of vulgar swears in Spanish? Absolutely. Miguel was not, however, passive-aggressive. Just… aggressive. Not angry, of course. Upfront. Abhorred any passivity and indolence: umm-ing and ahh-ing for the sake of it. 

So naturally , you were sent to kill him. 

You tiptoe around the apartment, avoiding him at all costs. At first, it wasn’t on purpose, just the awkwardness of your first meeting bleeding into the next week. But you dodge and weave like an expert boxer -  particularly impressive in the small space. Miguel’s in the kitchen? Suddenly, you’re not very hungry. He’s curled up on the couch for a movie? Wow, look at the time: and you're heading to bed. You can’t read him very well, and don’t trust yourself enough to look him in the eye without fear of melting under his gaze. The few short interactions you have, you crumble; a brush against his shoulder in the kitchen, or legs against his on the dining table. Not that Miguel offers a peace branch, pursing his lips when you’d make eye contact, somewhat frustrated at your theatrics. Call it cliche: you’re avoiding confrontation at all costs. It manifests itself in peculiar ways: the Shower Incident being the most memorable. 

The Shower Incident, aptly named, happened not too long ago. The apartment is old , as you soon learnt, coming with its own plethora of quirks. What you had first taken as character and charm - window seats and wood panelling - also came in the form of a building half falling apart. Creaky floorboards, leaky pipes, and a distinct lack of central heating. The discounted price, that had seemed like a bargain before, clearly lacked some creature comforts… like heating. And a working shower. 

As you’d been in a rush, you clattered into the bathroom; stripping in no time at all. Bare feet on the tile, and you turn the knobs at the base of the shower unit. You’re not going to pretend you know how it works, just yet, but… it’s not rocket science, is it? The brassy spout sputters; but with no luck. Groaning from the pipes makes you jump, before huffing in frustration. This is not the time; late to yet another 9.00am? You want to be different this year: organised, put together, and on time to your lectures. On your tiptoes, you peer down the shower head hesitantly, like it’s the barrel of a loaded gun. With cruel irony, it sputters to life, sending a face-full of ice-cold water your way.There’s a scream, as you scramble at the handles, scurrying out of its brunt; desperately trying to turn it off. 

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel leaps out of his room towards the shouting, with a fumble and clunk of his feet on wooden floor. He’s quick , hand hovering on the bathroom door before you can register it; his voice echoing outside. 

“Are you…” There’s scuffling, which you can just about hear over the pounding of the water against tiles. “Are you okay, in there?”

You wince, stepping out of the shower – legs shaky like a baby deer – as you gurgle. “...Yeah?”

“Can I –” He clears his throat. “Are you.. clothed ? Can I come in?”

You scramble for something to cover yourself, settling for a plush towel on the rack. Wrapping yourself up, you brace yourself for the grimace that's sure to be on his face. Tentatively, you crack the door open. There Miguel is, face knitted with worry. 

There's a flash of confusion at the scene, and then, what you think is relief. Relief you haven't cracked your head open, most likely: the blood would be hard to clean from the grout. You feel guilty, as you've probably broken it, or touched something you shouldn't. The shower is still on; sputtering, starting, and it becomes a strange sort of background music to your silent exchange. 

"I don't know how to use the shower." You say with a small voice, guiltily. 

" No me digas…" No shit, he mutters, face back to the furrowed brow you're starting to become more familiar with. He sighs, easing up. "You hurt?" 

You shake your head, and swear you see a small smile on his face. You looked like a waterboarded rat, probably: big watery eyes and shaking with the sudden cold. 

A mess , he thinks. But not a bad view. 

He's still in workout clothes from his morning run, compression shirt and lazy shorts that hug his ass on; as he turns towards the shower. With some sense of shame, you try not to stare, to not watch the muscles of his back and arms flex as he angles the shower head away from his face. It's not enough that you've embarrassed yourself – twice, in the space of a couple of days – but the fact it was in front of your roommate, who is maybe the most beautiful person you've seen up close. Which, granted, narrows the field; but Miguel is gorgeous, a flash of pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates, wide palms toggling the dial. 

"You need to be careful… push it in slightly when you turn the-" You crane your head towards his movements. "Come closer, or you won't see what I'm doing."

You move towards him, half naked and shivering, trying not to buckle with the heat of his body next to yours. This is what you get for not having spoken to a man since your ex: a tight coil at the base of your stomach for someone that you've done nothing but unwittingly terrorise for the past week.  

He explains, patient and even-tempered; how to use the shower and you half-zone out to the low tone of his voice. There's no malice, or pomp in his words when there are a million things he could make fun of you for - that Jamie may have made fun of you for. You look up, at the sharp lines of his face, and chew at your lip, deep in thought. 

"...and this side is for hot water. Next time, just ask me – instead of almost drowning."

You nod, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"...For what?" He says, softly. "Place is falling apart, anyway. It's not really your fault." You're convinced everything you touch in this house breaks, but with the way he looks at you, you believe him. 

"Just ask me, next time." He echoes and makes for the door, stopping to drag his eyes up and down your frame. Oh… oh. You like that, the way he looks at you shamelessly, practically undressing you. 

He smiles, amused at your deer-in-headlights expression. 

"...I think that's mine."

He nods to the towel wrapped around your body and your eyes bulge out of their sockets. " Fuck , I didn't realise-" 

He shrugs, noncommittal. 

"...Seems like you need it more than me, anyways."

~~~

It's a rough first couple of days, and then a week, and then two. The rhythm is all off: like the jerky stop and start of an old car. He wakes up early to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, and you stay up late to finish papers and assignments. He has a job, you think, darting out at the same time once or twice a week in smart clothing and a backpack. Sometimes, you catch him hunched over a laptop or scribbling something in a beat up old notebook. Maybe, he’s a student - even if he doesn’t seem quite like the fresh-faced 19 year olds you see around campus. Although, you suppose it’s not implausible; you were one of the older people in your classes, after all. It’s hard to imagine O’Hara, stony-faced and serious, at a… dorm party, or something. To be that carefree, he’d need to get rid of that stick up his ass, first.

You’ve got a day off from lectures, using the time to catch up on the reading you should’ve done over a hectic break. The list seems to go on and on, already, this early into the year. Internally, you’ve made a promise to be on top of it all - the little hiccup with Jamie, notwithstanding. You’d knuckle down this morning, reading ( scanning) and summarising ( liberal use of the copy-paste function) in preparation for the rest of the semester. Miguel’s locked up in his room, somewhere, so you use the opportunity to spread out onto the dining table.

There’s a knock at the door that makes you look up from the muddle of words on your screen.

When you open the door, there’s a woman there with a notebook in hand. She’s pretty, in a classic sort of way, ginger braids cropped to her shoulders and lips slathered with gloss. Her outfit is relaxed, but carefully curated: a tight jumper and long brown legs stretching out from a black skirt. 

“Hi.” She says, visibly keening. It’s clear she wasn’t expecting you, but she quickly recovers and gives you a blinding smile. 

“...Hi,” Honestly, you’re a little confused. You haven’t seen her around the complex before; so who she was, you hadn’t a clue. Too pretty to be a door-to-door salesman, and too hot to try to convert you to Mormonism, you think. Whatever that means.

You wait expectantly, as a beat passes. 

“Oh!” She laughs, and it sounds like puppies and rainbows, much too bright and airy considering the time of day. It makes her next words even more of a shock. “I’m looking for Miguel.”

With her last words, she steps a little closer; scanning the apartment from her vantage point. Something in you bubbles up, but you try to choke down the laughter. 

“You’re looking for...Miguel?” Even out of your own mouth, it sounds absurd . The man had no friends, as far as you could tell. He seemed like the type to lock himself away in his enclosure, only stepping out for work, school, the bare minimum. In the short week that’s passed, his ‘enrichment time’ had consisted of a dry documentary on spider mating cycles - which had been a shock to walk into, the first time. 

So someone here, at the apartment? Looking for him? Fidgeting, you scratch at your neck. “Uhh, I ca-”

“Sorry about that, Jia. You can have a seat.” His voice comes from behind you, and Jia breezes into the apartment, perching on the sofa. Legs crossed, she reaches into her bag, taking out a laptop and a pen and paper. He’s changed out of his workout clothes, donned in a loose white sweater and casual trousers - relaxed, for once. With a limp thud, you close the door. There’s an odd feeling as you look around at the scene: tension, and you feel like you’re interrupting. Miguel clatters around in the kitchen, fumbling for mugs and coffee filters and God knows what else.

“...was it two sugars, or three?”

“Three!” She throws over her shoulder, tapping away at her open laptop. “I like it sweet, Miguel.”

You squint. He laughs : a small chuckle that comes with a heat at the base of your stomach. Your head almost aches, trying to recalibrate; reconcile with the version of the person you’ve barely seen around the apartment to now - present, engaged, and personable. Exasperated is the only word for it. Miguel O’Hara was, in fact, capable of joy. Dickhead.

He barely acknowledges you, but Jia does; batting her wispy eyelashes in your direction, curious. The tapping stops, and she curls the corner of her mouth up with a hint of a smile. 

“You gonna introduce me?” She calls out to Miguel, and then smiles to you; warm and genuine. It makes you feel a little more at ease. You catch the end of a sigh coming from the kitchen.

“Jia, this is my roommate.” He glances up to gesture towards you. “...this is Jia. I… help her out with work, sometimes.”

From the couch, she rolls her eyes. “He’s too modest. He’s my tutor, technically.”

With that, your eyebrows shoot up. Of everything you’d imagined him doing, tutoring students wasn’t one of them - especially considering he seemed barely out of college himself.

“...Technically?” 

“He doesn’t like to advertise it, because he’s picky with his clientele.” She giggles and he scoffs. You get the feeling there’s a joke flying over your head, just out of reach. “Word gets out on campus that Miguel’s tutoring again…”

“ Vale, vale ,” He grumbles, but his tone is good-natured and light. “S’enough, Jia.”

She gives you a wink, before turning towards her work.

You walk towards your things, still on the dining table. He’s got his head buried in a kitchen cabinet and you look on, wanting to ask a lot of things. The words seem to die in your throat: too big, too small, not the right shape. She's a stranger; that knows where the coffee’s kept and the best spot on the couch. That makes Miguel laugh . You want to ask him about the stranger in your home; but you’re too scared he’d turn and point the finger at you.

He walks to the couch, balancing two cups of coffee. You look back. Next to him, her presence is an oddity - a blip in his carefully crafted universe. With the warm sheen of familiarity, she nudges his shoulder. Taking careful sips, he pointedly ignores her, tapping a finger at her screen - as if to say, pay attention. She smiles, wide; an asteroid across the depths of space, dazzling and brilliant in the night sky. 

The exchange… it makes you think. If Miguel is the Sun, and Jia, a bright body in orbit: what’s your place in this four-walled cosmos? Where do you belong? 

_

_

_

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@teacoffeeflavored @chuuyara@qiapia@rotten-zombi3@bonbyon @tianyhi @noelsilly @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @peachsteven @thesquidni@fatenpara @verr-uckt @kurakasabe @kamiko32 @mushy-mushroom04@izzys-hawttea@theandromedastar @wicked-futures @truthuntolddd @prettygirlpattinson @hellokittylover202 @angel-eyes05 @lacedinweb22 @starguiders @buggiecrawls @eugeab @tarjapearce @whoreloll @path0logicalpeoplepleaser @ancientbeing10 @shartythefarty@royalhearts

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook

[the-oblivious-writer]

Comfort Crowd

Core Four and Fem!Reader | Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

One-Shot: Social Media Au, No GF Au

Summary: Just you, the core four, and a few other scream characters being chaotic

Warning(s): Swearing, "kys" being thrown around (once & jokingly ofc), no gf au, best friend's older sister & age gap (sam is 25/26 & r is 19)

Notes: First time doing a social media au thing for a fic soo if you have any feedback lemme know. Hope you enjoy, this was honestly fun to make

3/7 for Seven Days Of Christmas

mindythegreat

liked by chadtheman_meeks, ambers_notafreeman, and 8,563 others

mindythegreat: can’t take these bitches anywhere @y/n @justalilguy

view all 8,432 comments…

chadtheman_meeks: I just know your asses are freezing 💀

>justalilguy: SHE THREW ME ASS FIRST

>y/n: THREEWW?? YOU JUMPED ON MY BACK THEN SLIPPED

>justalilguy: LIESS

>y/n: YOU CAN SEE IT SO CLEARLY IN THE FIRST PHOTO

>justalilguy: GASLIGHTER

>y/n: LITERALLY STFUP

chadtheman_meeks: now they're at it in the replies 😭

>ambers_notafreeman: LMAO

—

y/n

liked by justalilguy, chadtheman_meeks, and 4,127 others

y/n: we studying tf outa this exam 😤

view all 2,598 comments...

chadtheman_meeks: you spent the first 20 mins deciding on what playlist to use and then another 10 flirting with the librarian

>y/n: and you spent the first half hour giggling with liv on face time 🤨

mindythegreat: chad knows how to read??

>chadtheman_meeks: fuck you.

justalilguy: I see you've started without me 😒

>y/n: WE WERE SUPPOSED TO MEET LIKE TWO HOURS AGO??

>justalilguy: IT'S NOT MY FAULT MY ALARM DIDN'T GO OFF

>y/n: WE WERE MEETING AT 4 HOW MUCH SLEEP DO YOU NEED???

samcarpenter1997: @justalilguy This is the study session you slept through?

>justalilguy: sam?? since when did you have insta?

>samcarpenter1997: Mindy helped me set up an account

y/n: @justalilguy why have you never told me that your older sister is so breath taking? that's breaking girl code 😔

>justalilguy: no. just no. stay away from her.

>y/n: I was just making an observation? btw can I come over?

>justalilguy: NO.

>y/n: so in 30 mins work? great! tell sammy I won't be long

>justalilguy: YOU DID NOT JUST-

chadtheman_meeks: @justalilguy it's a canon event.

>not_ethanlandry: she hit on my sister too

>justwes: and mine

>livvy: mine too

>ambers_notafreeman: same.

>justalilguy: @y/n you have a fucking problem

—

y/n

liked by ambers_notafreeman, mindythegreat, and 8,752 others

y/n: bro's too stubborn to admit she needs help reaching the top shelf

view all 4,673 comments...

ambers_notafreeman: lmao she's so short not even tip-toeing would help her reach

>mindythegreat: rip amber

>livvy: was nice knowing you ames

>justalilguy: oh? well if I'm so short then ig I can't kiss you

>ambers_notafreeman: I didn't mean it in a bad way bby 😢

>justalilguy: there's a good way? please. enlighten me.

ambers_notafreeman: @y/n wat do I do.

>y/n: hm? oh, sry, I was too busy laughing at your ass being in the doghouse for the 3rd time this week 💀

>ambers_notafreeman: kys.

—

samcarpenter1997

liked by y/n, mindythegreat, and 6,732 others

samcarpenter1997: (sam? putting a caption? funny.)

view all 4,873 comments...

y/n: KSHFSKH I mean- Gorgeous as always 💕

>samcarpenter1997: Thank you! 🙂

>justalilguy: GTFO OF HER COMMENTS as for you @samcarpenter1997 wtf was that???

>samcarpenter1997: Your friend gave me a compliment. I literally just said thank you.

>justalilguy: since when do you actually reply to comments?? second of all, THE EXCLAMATION MARK AND EMOJI??? Sam. for you, that's basically jamming your tongue down her throat

>samcarpenter1997: I was just being polite, you're really overthinking this

>y/n: yeah, @justalilguy just listen to the drop dead gorgeous woman

>samcarpenter1997: @y/n Talking about yourself?

>y/n: oh!! 🤭

>justalilguy: I've died and this is hell.

—

y/n

liked by samcarpenter1997, justwes, and 9,892 others

y/n: me and my fav drummer boy @juswes are back at it again

view all 8,992 comments...

justwes: anything for my favorite guitarist 😊

>y/n: ❤️

chadtheman_meeks: I better be the first to hear it!

>y/n: was there any doubt??

samcarpenter1997: That guitar looks good on you

>y/n: bet you'd suit me better

>samcarpenter1997: We could test that theory

>y/n: oh, how I'd love to

>justalilguy: what. the. actual. fuck.

—

mindythegreat

liked by ambers_notafreeman, chadtheman_meeks, and 8,968 others

mindythegreat: LMAOO guess what she just walked in on

view all 8,572 comments...

chadtheman_meeks: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

ambers_notafreeman: @justalilguy I just got your text, I'm so sorry babe 😭

>justalilguy: IN THE FUCKING LIVING ROOM

not_ethanlandry: I don't get it?

>justwest: same

>chadtheman_meeks: y/n and sam were making out and Tara saw them...

>justwes: OH...y/n's gonna be annoying asf now right?

>chadtheman_meeks: 100%

—

y/n

liked by samcarpenter1997, nik, and 6,432 others

y/n: LOST IN THE LABYRINTH OF MY MIND

view all 5,897 comments...

justalilguy: this is my new waking nightmare.

>chadtheman_meeks: I tried to warn you

>ambers_notafreeman: you should see the look on her face rn

nik: aww, you guys are so cute together 🥰

>y/n: thank you anika<33

not_ethanlandry: you said you weren't looking for a relationship?

>y/n: with you. I wasn't looking for a relationship with you

>not_ethanlandry: noted

mindythegreat: @ambers_notafreeman pay up

>ambers_notafreeman: @y/n you couldn't have waited another week before posting how down bad you are??

>y/n: the heart wants what the heart wants

samcarpenter1997: 🖤

>y/n: 🤍

>samcarpenter1997: Are you coming over later?

>y/n: ofc I am 😉

>samcarpenter1997: Then I'll see you later, beautiful

>y/n: skhfkhfksh see you 🥰

mindythegreat: @justalilguy weren't you just telling me you think they look good together?

>justalilguy: MINDY

—

chadtheman_meeks

liked by justalilguy, ambers_notafreeman, and 8,997 others

chadtheman_meeks: @y/n was supposed to put them in for 10 minutes...she put them in for 30 😐

view all 8,542 comments...

justalilguy: @y/n how tf do you mess that up

>y/n: I don't appreciate being attacked rn

>justalilguy: hm?

>y/n: ...I wanted them a extra crispy

>justalilguy: you're such a dumbass sometimes 💀

>y/n: actually I'm just a girl

ambers_notafreeman: @y/n aren't you always saying how you'd be a housewife for the right woman and shit

>y/n: that still stands!!

>ambers_notafreeman: how do you expect to do that when you can't even bake cookies??

>y/n: wow. I wasn't expecting such sexism from you- chad maybe but you? it's the betrayal for me 😦

>ambers_notafreeman: idk how I tolerate you

>chadtheman_meeks: um hello???

—

y/n

liked by justalilguy, samcarpenter1997, and 9,896 others

y/n: Merry christler🎄❄️

view all 9,047 comments...

-----------

A/N: Tara and R in a nutshell (poor chad getting caught in the middle)

[leclercss]

Tainted Love, Part 5 (Charles Leclerc ft Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: sorry for taking so long to post part 5. Life has been life-ing and it’s been so busy. Thanks for all of your kind words in the mean time x

word count: 4.5k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader @pinkangelavenue, @queenofshinigamis, @notleclerc, @paullinne, @bisexualbith, @tempo-rary-fix, @bbygrlllllll, @teenagedreams-cl, @lunamelona, @leclerc16s

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing it in my car?”

You can’t help but giggle at Charles' question.

“Charles, it’s fine,” you reply in between your giggles. “I’ve had sex in worse places than this”.

Charles furrows his eyebrows at your response. “Like where?”

You giggle again. “Charles, we snuck out of the party so we could have sex. Are you really using the limited time we have to ask me about the random places I’ve had sex?”

“Good point!”

After you and Charles’ close call with Whitney in his bedroom, the two of you put your heads together to find a place where you could have sex without getting caught. And somewhere as far away from Whitney as possible.

And so with the limited options you had thanks to the apartment upstairs being filled with partygoers, Charles had suggested that you guys could go to his car in the garage. And while it wasn’t the most comfortable of places for you two to get busy in, it was much better than your suggestion of finding somewhere behind the apartment building.

So that’s how you ended up here, on Charles’ lap in the passenger seat with your legs either side of his. Your skirt and underwear are somewhere in the backseat after Charles practically tore them off your body.

He’s currently pulling at your top so he can have a front row view to your boobs, which he’s become very attached to in the short space that you’ve known him.

Deciding that you’re not the only one to be practically naked in the car, you start to unbutton Charles’ shirt. He helps you by pulling his arms out of the sleeves before you throw the clothing into the backseat, finding space alongside your discarded clothes.

“You look so beautiful, amour,” he tells you as his eyes are fixated on your body. His hands feel like ice against your skin before they make way to your boobs. He runs his thumbs over your exposed nipples and they harden at his touch. A shiver runs through your body, once more your body instantly reacting to his intimate touched. He gropes your boobs for a little longer before his hands make their way down to your stomach ever so slowly. Your skin is tingling at the sensation of feeling him touching you.

His next destination is your thighs where his fingers dance across your skin ever so lightly, enough for you to start to feel heat in your core. Even in the limited time that you two have down in the garage before you have to account for your whereabouts, he still wants to savour every millimetre of your body.

You can't help but smile at the sight before you. It's almost like he's obsessed with your body. His tongue slightly poking out the corner of his mouth. He's concentrating as if he's studying you so he can remember the image and feel of your body for later.

“If you’re enjoying the view so much, you can take a picture,” you tease him.

He looks up at you with surprise in his eyes but the smirk on his lips tells you his true feelings.

“Are you serious?” He asks. He feels a twitch in his pants at the idea of taking photos of you naked. Until now, he’s been using his mental images from the night and morning you’ve spent together. But to have a photo of you on his phone to keep, how could he turn that down?

“I’m serious, Charles. You can have it for when I’m not around”.

Your hands find their way to his bare shoulders before you run them down his chest, towards his torso and they stop, just resting above his belt. His eyes are fixated on you and your movements. You slowly unbuckle his belt, at an agnoising pace. You hear his breath hitch in the back of his throat as you unzip his jeans.

“The offer won’t last forever you know,” you kindly remind him and flash him a wink. The alcohol that’s still in your system giving you the confidence you need in this moment.

Wasting no more time, Charles digs his phone out of his jean pocket before slowly reclining his chair to get a better angle of you. You help him out by leaning back on your heels. As he opens the camera app, you run your hands through your hair and start to pose for him.

You can’t help notice the smirk that’s plastered across his face as he positions himself. Reminding you of some horny teenager. You thought it might have been a bit of a silly idea to have Charles take some naked photos of you but seeing how joyful he is has reassured you that these photos won’t go to waste.

“Give me a little smile, amour”.

You follow his instructions and he begins snapping away, sniggering to himself as he does so.

“Can you stop laughing at me?” You whine, tempted to grab the phone out of his hand.

“I’m not laughing, [Y/N]. I’m just thinking about how I’ll be using them tomorrow,” he retorts.

You roll your eyes slightly before posing for a few more photos. Once you’ve had enough, you grab the phone out of his hand and throw it into the drivers seat so you have his full and undivided attention again.

You take his face into your hands and lean in to leave a wet, sensual kiss on his lips. He hums slightly into your mouth as he reclines the chair further before his hands find their way back onto your body. Grabbing and pulling at any skin he can get his hands on.

You find your seat again on his lap and slowly begin to rock your hips back and forth against his clothed crotch, feeling his hardness growing beneath you. You continue to rock back and forth as his tongue slips into your mouth. Your tongues meet and move alongside each other with slow but purposeful movements.

You reach out for the top of his boxers and jeans, pulling the material down. Charles lifts up his hips so you can pull them over his bum and they soon find themselves bunched around his ankles.

You take his hard cock into your hands and stroke it a few times. He’s ready to go.

You pull back from the kiss so you can position yourself so you're hovering over the tip of his penis. Your eyes meet and you feel your breath catch in your throat. His eyes feel like they’re staring into your soul.

You feel a twitch down below and so you make sure your hole is lined up with his tip before you push yourself down. His cock begins to fill you up and you both let out a deep sigh.

You place your hands on his chest for leverage and begin to move your hips back and forth. Your pace is slow at first, getting used to the position in the passenger seat and you feel your heart beat start to speed up.

Charles’ eyes never leave yours as you gradually pick up your pace, grinding your hips against his.

“You look so good on top of me, baby,” he mutters, loving the sensation of you riding him.

You’ve now found your momentum and pick up your pace further.

“Mmm… Charles, fuck,” you groan and bit your lip at the sensation you’re feeling down below. Charles’ hands find their way to your hips so he can guide your movements.

The car begins to rock around you, the moment run carrying you and you begin to pick up your pace even further.

“Oh, fuck!”

The sensation of Charles inside of you combined with the thrill of getting caught at any moment by another resident passing through the garage has you throbbing down below. Your moans are rolling into one another.

You feel Charles’ mouth wrap around one of your nipples. His tongue swirling around the sensitive nub. He bits down a little, causing you to squeal in pleasure. One of your hands’ now finds its way into his hair, the other on the ceiling of the car to keep you steady. Your hips still being guiding by Charles.

“Fuck, baby,” you groan in pleasure.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Charles pants from beneath you. You manage to open your eyes and look down. Charles is looking up at you, his pupils dilating through all of the pleasure.

You nod, not able to string more than a few words together at this point.

Charles tightens his grip on your hips before thrusting up into you.

“Fuck!”

You practically jump at the movement. But Charles doesn’t give you time to come around as begins to thrust up into you, his movements are hard and fast. Skin slapping against yours and you find yourself bouncing on his dick. You try to grab onto anything at this point to hold yourself up. Mouth open as you continue to moan on top of him.

“Keep going,” you sigh.

Charles’ obeys your orders and thrusts into you even harder and faster than before. The car now moving erratically around you.

“Charles, baby”.

You miss the feeling of him on your lips and so you reach down to place your lips on his. The kiss is sloppy, thanks to the movements he’s making beneath you. He wraps his arms around you in a hug and thrusts up into you, he's now hitting your spot over and over.

You squeal against his lips, trying to muster a “fuck”. He slips his tongue into your mouth once more.

You reach down and begin to rub your clit with your fingers to add to the sensation that you’re feeling down below.

Charles is clearly delighted by this and continues at .

“Are you touching yourself, amour?” He whispers into your ear. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Yes”.

You can feel him smirk against your ear.

“And what do you think about when you touch yourself?”

Oh God!

“Yo-“ you can barely get your words out without moaning.

“Come on, you can say it”. He’s teasing you at this point but it’s turning you on even more when he talks to you like this. “What do you think about, amour? When you’re touching yourself”.

He’s somehow thrusting into you even faster now. His movements are getting erratic.

“Fu-, you fucking me, Ch-Charles,” you whine.

That seems to do it as Charles groans and gives everything he has to thrust into you further but he’s at his peak.

“I’m gonna cum,” he grunts into you ear and with one last deep thrust, his cum starts to spill inside of you. French profanities roll off his tongue but you’re too reaching your own peak that you can’t understand what he’s saying.

As Charles begins to come down from his climax, you place your hands onto his chest and pull yourself back up, with the little energy you having remaining, and begin moving your hips against his once more until you feel the knot tighten in your stomach.

“I’m cumming, Charles”.

You let one last moan before your eyes give way and you collapse onto Charles’ chest, his body acting as a cushion for your fall.

You lay in each others arms panting, trying to regain your breath after you both orgasmed. Your head is laying on Charles' chest, rising and falling with each other as he's breathing heavily bender h you. His skin is slightly damp from what you've just done but you don’t mind at all. You can feel his fingers tips dance along your skin as he glides them across your back, soothing you.

As you begin to regain your energy, you look up at him through your lashes and notice him staring at the roof of the car, his chest still rising and falling below. You place a soft kiss on his chest. He feels this and looks down at you with a soft but tired smile on his face.

"I don't think I could ever get tired of this," you don't realise that the words have left your mouth until you see Charles' smile widen. He leans down so he can place a kiss on your forehead.

"Me too, amour," he replies, his voice a little rasp. "I think I could just lay here with you all night".

You reach up and place your hand on his cheek, softly running your thumb over the smooth skin. He's looking at you with so much affection and you feel like you could stay in this position forever. Your body on his, legs intertwined, your heart beating so close to his. You'd almost forgotten that he was still inside you. His penis has softened at this point but it feels so comfortable to have him inside you like this.

"It's a shame that we couldn't spend more of the night together," he tells you, a slight pout on his lips.

You let out a little sigh. "I know. I'm sorry, Charles. I know things are a little complicated when it comes to my situation".

He turns his cheek so he can peck the palm of your hand that's against his face. "I knew what I was getting into with you, amour. You don't have to apologise".

You smile at him. "Are you sure it doesn't bother you?"

"I'm sure," and the tone in his voice doesn't lie. He's confident with what he's saying. "I know how I feel towards you and I can see how you feel towards me. I promise you it's okay".

You rest your head on his chest so you can hear his heart beat against you once more.

"Maybe we can do something more romantic?"

His chest vibrating as he speaks beneath you.

"Like where?"

"I don't know. As much as I've enjoyed having sex in my car, it's not exactly the comfiest place," he chuckles. "Maybe a weekend away, just the two of us."

He has you smiling once more. "I'd like that, Charles”.

A little while later, you and Charles had managed to peel yourselves off each other and decided to return the chaos upstairs before Whitney sent out a search party on your behalf.

You definitely weren’t going to look as presentable on your return as you had when you first rocked up to Charles and Joris’ apartment tonight. But by now people would most likely be heavily intoxicated or high and so your disheveled appearance would be the least of everyone’s worries.

You cherished the last private moments that you would have with Charles this evening before finding your way back into his apartment. Your fingers intertwined as you kissed each other softly in the elevator. Your bodies enjoying the last few moments of intimacy.

“I’m not sure how I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself now,” Charles mumbled against your lips.

You smiled into your kiss.

“Well, if you’re feeling a little lonely, you can always check your camera roll,” you teased.

Charles pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and bites down ever so slightly.

“Don’t tease me like that, amour,” Charles growls. “Not after what we’ve just done”.

You smirk up at him, the Dutch courage still coursing through your body. You decide to toy with him a little more, “Even when your cum is still inside me?”

“Merd-”

His whine is interrupted by the ding made by the elevator and you both find yourselves on the 8th floor, music and voice still going.

You place a final kiss on Charles lips before making your way to his apartment.

“Good night, Charles”.

Your disappearance had gone unnoticed, Whitney was too busy in the birthday boy’s bedroom. Your appearance hadn’t been judged. People were far too drunk to remember your name, never mind the fact that your make up was now half gone from your face.

You’d lightly integrated back into the party but your best friend was up to her own mischief and you were trying to keep your eyes and hands off Charles. But as the drunken partygoers slowly started to filter the way out of the apartment and the night slowly came to close, the two of you found yourselves in the kitchen alone.

You were in a similar position to the one you found yourself in the last time you were here. About a week ago now. Your hands wrapped around his neck. Your lips and tongues moving in synchronisation. Charles’ fingers had found their way inside of you once more. Your soft moans rolling onto his tongue.

The two of you are lost in the intimacy, lost in the moment and lost in each other. The fear of a random person, or even Whitney, walking into the two of you doesn’t scare you. It just feels too good for you to care about anything else.

Your lips leave his and your head falls back as a moan leaves you. Your chest slowly starting to rise and fall.

It doesn’t take much for you to come undone onto his fingers this time, it’s just so natural for you at this stage. Your energy is spent and you hold onto him, held still thrown back. Your heavy breathing is starting to slow down but your eyes are still closed from the euphoria you’re feeling. You don’t even notice his fingers slide out of you, you’re just so lost in your own world.

That is until you feel Charles place a soft kiss on your lips and his voice pulls you back to reality, “Are you okay, amour?”

You slowly peel your eyes open and smile at him. He’s looking at you - you’re not sure if it’s with affection or with concern. You’ve been absent for a little while.

“I’m good. Just enjoying this feeling,” you exhale softly.

You find the energy to pull yourself upright and place your head against Charles’ chest. Your arms wind their way around his torso and you let your body melt against him.

Charles is quite for a moment. You feel his heart beat quicken against you.

“Amour,”

His voice is so soft and gentle.

“Will you stay with me tonight?”

You look up at him and he’s looking down at you nervously. Your mouth slightly agape as you’re not sure what to say.

It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him nervous. And his lack of confidence isn’t helped by the fact that you still haven’t found your words.

You blink.

“Charles, I ca-,” you begin but he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it”.

You let out a little sigh as you feel his touch loosen around you.

“Charles, you know I would. But Whitney is here and she doesn’t know,” you begin to explain but he stops you by placing a kiss on your lips.

“I forgot, [Y/N],” it feels weird when he doesn’t call you amour now. “She doesn’t know. It’s okay, you need to get home tonight”.

You flash him a sympathetic smile and you feel guilty for seeing the disappointment in him. He wants you to stay. And you want to stay but you can’t.

Whitney doesn’t know and if she caught you with Charles you’d have to find a million answers to a million questions you weren’t ready to answer.

After reassuring Charles that you would see him soon and one more deep, meaningful kiss, you find yourself outside making your way home and you’re now at your apartment door.

You send a couple of texts before you go inside, one to Whitney to let her know they you had gone home and you’d be getting all of the juicy details from her tomorrow. And one to Charles to let him know you were safe and that you had missed him already.

Once you finally made it inside, you noticed that the apartment is dark and quiet. The only sound you can hear is the ticking of the clock in the hallway. You shut the door quietly and make your way towards the bedroom with your heels in your hand so you don't disturb Roscoe in his sleep.

You're not sure if Lewis is home, it's not like he was keeping you up to date with his itinerary these days anyway.

As you reach your bedroom door, You slowly push it open, it's dark in here too. And you're met with the snoring of Roscoe who's asleep at the foot of the bed. But he's not the only one snoring. You look towards the top of the bed and see a figure in the dark beneath the sheets, lightly snoring away. It's Lewis and he's home, much to your surprise.

You're not sure if you're relieved or nervous about seeing him here after the night that you've just had at Joris' party with Charles. But you don't feel any guilt and you're surprised at the lack of guilt that you've felt since you've started to sleep with Charles.

Rather than wait in the open doorway any longer, you make your way to the ensuite bathroom. Deciding that a quick shower will not only make you feel better in the morning but will feel slightly more respectful when you climb back into bed with your husband. You were already on the edge with Lewis as it was without bringing the scent of another man onto your shared sheets. You were growing to dislike Lewis and his behaviour towards you but you didn't dislike him that much.

As you stand under the hot shower, glass steaming up around you, you shut your eyes and let the hot water soak into your skin. And you begin to think about the night that you've just spent with Charles. You can still feel his touch and kisses on your body. Your hand travelling down to between your thighs and you lightly touch yourself at the memory of him thrusting deep inside of you, filling you with his cum. It was the first time he had done so with you, previously he had always pulled out but last night he was so lost in the feeling of you that he seemed to forget. You didn't mind too much, if anything you felt that it brought you closer to him.

You hadn't known him too long but in the short amount of time you could feel a deep connection, one that you hadn't felt in a very long time. He noticed you and he made you feel seen. But most importantly, he made you feel important. And you only craved to feel him touch you once more.

You let out a little hum as you feel a twitch down below, you're still touching yourself as you think about Charles. You pick up your pace and press harder onto your clit, thinking about how if Charles was here right now, and oh how you wished he was. He’d be taking you from behind. His skin wet and slippy from the shower. He'd have his hand in your hair as he bent you over. You'd be gripping onto the tiles to keep you upright as he thrusted into you. His cum spilling into you once more.

"Fuck," you whine as you realise that you've brought yourself to your peak. As you slowly catch your breath, your mind drifts to Charles once more. If he was here right now, he'd kiss you, arms wrapped around you. It’s almost as if he’s in the room with you, calling you amour.

Was it a mistake not to stay him tonight?

Realising that your shower has taken much longer than planned, you quickly turn off the water and begin to dry yourself off. You take one last look in the mirror and notice the faint marks on your neck that Charles has left. Your fingers find there way to the bruised area and you can't help but smile.

You make your way back into the bedroom, slipping into an oversized tee before slowly climbing into bed. Roscoe still snoring away. As your head hits the pillow, your body finally relaxes and you let out a deep exhale.

Just as you're about to shut your eyes and drift off into sleep, some movement beside you stirs you out of your slumber. You feel Lewis roll over in the bed.

The room falls quiet once more. But not for long.

"You came home," Lewis whispers. You're not sure if it's a question or a statement but it takes you by surprise. You take a moment, deciding on what will be the best course of action to take. Do you pretend you're asleep or engage in a conversation with Lewis? But you feel like the decision is almost being made for you as you feel Lewis' eyes burning into the back of your head.

You roll over and through the darkness you seem him looking at you, his eyes wide open. You feel your stomach drop as he's looking at you and you notice his eyes glisten with some sort of hope.

Your mind lingers back to Charles and the look he gave you tonight when you told him you couldn’t stay. You’re feeling conflicted, you’d worked so long to keep your marriage to Lewis as happy and healthy as possible but these last few weeks have been the reality check that you needed. And you finally find love and passion and meaning again, but this time it wasn’t with Lewis.

But as you lay in bed, and your husband is looking at you like this, you can’t help but find yourself cave.

You know his words have a deeper meaning than what they sound like on the surface.

For so long, Lewis had pushed you to the side. You were so young when you met him and so in love that no matter what he did, you thought. that, through your own naivety he would always come back to you.

And in this moment, he has come back to you. After this past week of him ignoring your entire existence after shouting at you like he had never done before, he's suddenly seen you again. But you're not sure if it's out of love and care or because you're now a different person in your marriage, something he thought you would never be. You were starting to have a life outside of him and maybe this was his last chance to hold onto you, to fight for the version of you that would love you unconditionally.

You’re pulled back to reality when you feel Lewis reach out for you as his thumb starts to stroke your cheek. You're not sure why but you feel your eyes start to well up at the feeling of him touching you like this, looking at you like this.

“You came home,” he says once more, “for me?”

Those two words surprise you.

Your breath catches in your throat but somehow you manage to lie,

"I came home".

[beenbaanbuun]

j have to say i love the way u write jongho so badddd ALL OF UR POSTS R SO GRRFFGGGRGDGD

anyways while we’re here… what if 🧍pt 2 of 🧍the 🧍pool fic 🧍🧍

he was so cute there 🙁🙁 (AUUGHHHGHGHGHVC) if not tho i would like to request more awkward/loser jongho he is real and has my whole heart 😞😞

thank u for writing in general tho u eat tf up everytime

okay so i am planning a part 2 to the pool fic!!!! but it’s not written yet… BUT!!!!!!!!! here is more awkward jongho for your viewing pleasure :D

(also those photos of him… your honour i love him. he’s so silly 😓)

words - 1.7k

genre - suggestive/nsfw

warnings - loser!jongho, jongho is thinking thoughts about the reader, slight dom!reader/sub!jongho, teasing, reader calls jongho good boy…, public touching off peen but also no one can tell, i think that’s it??

——————————————————————————-

if jongho were an artist then you would be his muse. right in this moment, he can find a million things he would love to replicate in oils. everything from the way your delicately painted fingernails pick at a ball of lint on your skirt to the print of lipgloss left on the half-empty coffee mug deserves to be immortalised on canvas. the fact that it's only the first date should make him feel insane, but all he can think is that perhaps if things progress between the both of you, he'll be able to find a million more things to admire.

"i like your shirt," you smile, the world immediately seeming brighter as you do. he smiles back, although it feels a bit forced. not because he doesn't want to smile back--god, just sitting here and looking at you makes him want to do nothing *but* smile--but because he feels he can do nothing but sit and stare in awe, slack jawed and eyes wide. "i haven't seen you wear that one in class before.”

that sets his face on fire, painting his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. you notice him in lectures? not just that but you notice what he wears? he casts an eye down towards the shirt that's slung loosely over his plain black t-shirt. he'd figured it was far too formal just to wear to class but if you like it... well, maybe dressing up a little more wouldn't be too much of an issue. when he looks back up, he immediately forgets what the shirt looks like, his brain flooded once more with the image of you.

"thank you… i like your shirt too," he repeats your compliment back to you, unsure of what else he should say. of course, theres so many things more that he likes than just the flimsy piece of fabric that adorns your top half, but despite the poems and soliloqies hes writing in his head, its hard to get the words out. he settles for your shirt; its easy to compliment you on that when the words have already been said by you.

"youve seen it before, though," you giggle, and his heart does a little dance in his chest. if only everything could sound as sweet as you. if he could hear you every day for the rest of his life, hes sure thered be nothing to be miserable about ever again. you bite your lower lip to stifle the sound, and he can’t quite work out how he feels about that. he wants to hear you more, but just the sight of your teeth sinking into that pink fleshy pillow is enough to make his heart trip and stumble down several flights of stairs.

holy fuck.

of course, he’s spent hours studying your face before now, sitting in lectures picking out each feature and coming up with a million and one reasons as to why he adores them. your lips are something he’s already committed to memory, the colour, the shape, the way they look wrapped around the neck of the water bottle you bring to every lecture. this is the first time he’s seen them in this light though. up close, being tugged upon by your teeth in such a manner that he can’t help but let his mind wander to some less than savoury places.

he swallows down the saliva that had begun to gather upon his tongue; he’s a gentleman and these thoughts really shouldn’t be in the forefront of his mind right now. he shouldn’t be wondering how you look on top of him, hips swaying back and forth with your lip tucked away to stifle your moans. he tries to pull his eyes away to stifle his overactive imagination, but when they land on your thighs instead, he gives up. he’s a gentleman, he can have a normal conversation while his mind runs wild with the fantasies of what he’d do to you if you were in his bed.

“it’s still a pretty shirt,” his voice is quiet, yet it still somehow manages to crack. it’s humiliating, of course it is, but it’s made even worse when the pretty sound of your laughter starts up again. it still sounds like wind chimes on an autumn day, but this time he can feel the bitter breeze that rings them nipping at his skin. he doesn’t blame you for laughing at him; he would too. in fact, he probably would’ve laughed the second he asked you out on this date if he were in your shoes. why would someone as perfect as you even bother to look at someone like him?

he’s half expecting some cruel jest from you. a little joke you make at his expense just to make yourself feel better about this weird guy you’ve found yourself on a date with. he can take it, he tells himself; it’s what he assumed would happen anyway.

but instead he hears the scrape of a mug being pushed across the table, your mouth silent except for the biting giggles that still flow freely from it. he looks up to your face once more only to see anything but the animosity he was expecting. a kind toothy grin paired with your wide eyes that he fell in love with the very first time he spotted you. you look kind, not at all like the image he’d been painting in his head. it’s a relief and the invisible noose that had been slowly tightening around his neck loosens. he can breathe again, knowing that nothing has changed from when he first set foot in the cafe, despite his body’s attempt to sabotage him.

“here,” your voice is warm, just like it always is. if your laughter is a wind chime on a cool autumn day, then your voice is most certainly the crackling fire that awaits him inside. “you finished your drink but it sounds like you need another. you can have mine, i’ll go and grab anotherfor myself.”

you begin to lift yourself from your chair, and before he even realises what he’s doing a demanding, “no,” comes from jongho. you pause, eyes flickering over to him in question. he shakes his head, more at himself than to you, yet you seem to respond, sitting yourself back down on the seat without little complaint. so obedient, he notices, although the thought is quickly pushed away by the shame he still feels. he takes a sip of your drink to soothe his throat. “i’ll get you one in a moment,” he forces his words out, “i’ve taken yours, i’m not going to make you buy a new one for yourself.”

“i don’t mind,” you say softly as jongho takes another sip, “you can just buy me something on our next date!”

and just like that, jongho’s mind just… stops. he forgets what it means to breathe, the oxygen hitching in his throat as he inhaled through his nose. the liquid his mouth refuses to slide down his neck with ease, catching right at the entrance to his throat and making him cough. he splutters, the rest of the coffee expelling itself from his mouth and flying all over his own lap. “shit,” he murmurs, hands flying into action to clean himself up, only for more coffee to slosh ungracefully over the side of the cup, “fucking hell!”

“jongho!” he can't even blink before you’re there at his side, kneeling on the cold wood floor of the cafe with a napkin in hand. it’s like you’re not even thinking when you begin to dab at his stomach with the cloth, touching his tummy so gently that it sends tingles up and down his spine. his hands fly immediately to the arms of his chair and he clings onto them for dear life.

it’s worse when your hand travels a little further south, grazing the waistband of his jeans. he squeezes his eyes shut as you pat the damp material, not sparing a single second to consider what having your hand so close to his cock might be doing to his sanity. he can feel it stirring, his underwear becoming tighter and tighter with each passing second. there’s nothing he can do about it other than hope you don’t notice—

“oh,” your hand falls limp against his thigh as your gaze locks onto the quite obvious bulge that he’s sporting. of course he is, what else would you expect when you sit there rubbing at his almost-crotch? sure, you were just trying to be helpful but now jongho is hard and it’s not like he could exactly help it.

he watches you intently as your gaze shifts to his face, looking even more beautiful from this close up. you’re mere inches away; if he were to just bend down a little, he could snag your lips in a kiss. he so badly wants to, however, he can’t imagine it would help his case at all.

“you’re hard,” you whisper to him.

he nods.

“i am,” he doesn’t know what else to say. you caught him and that’s that. what, is he supposed to deny it? how can he when your hand lays just ever-so-slightly left of the evidence.

“is it my fault?” the corner of your mouth twitches into a sly smirk, letting jongho know that you already know the answer. nevertheless, he nods, gulping down the lump that’s beginning to form in his throat. “sorry, i didn’t quite hear that.”

“yes,” he hisses out through gritted teeth, “it’s your fault.” you smile at him, beautiful and dangerous.

“so i guess that means i should fix it, right?” you hand shifts the tiniest bit, catching the edge of his erection with your finger tip. he winces, body twitching in reaction to your cruel maneuver. for someone so sweet, it seems you have a bit of a mean streak. jongho can hardly complain; you look hot sitting by his feet as you tease him. damn his shyness, honestly. if it wasn’t for that, he’d love nothing more than to show you who’s in charge. for now, though, he guesses he can let you have your fun.

“please,” he sighs as you apply a little more pressure to his bulge. to anyone else, it might just look like you’re an overly attentive girlfriend dabbing at the spilt coffee; to jongho you look like the picture of filth.

“good boy,” you whisper to him, and despite jongho’s own preference for dominance, he has to admit that those words sound so pretty coming from you. a shiver makes its way up his spine. “meet me in the bathroom in 5.”

[love-bitesx]

hobie brown x photographer!reader

this is almost entirely self indulgent, because i’m a huge camera nerd, sorry everyone!

warnings: gets verryyy suggestive towards the end, that’s all, sorry folks :P

just thinking about hobie in love with a reader who's obsessed with cameras & photography. maybe you studied it at school/college, or freelance, or maybe just a bit of a camera nerd. bedroom shelves housing all types of cameras, cheap or expensive, film or digital, any and every type.

maybe reader isn't too confident in front of the lens, and hobie is just so goddamn photogenic, even when he doesn't mean to be. "wait, hobie, can you do that again?" whilst bringing the camera to your eye, waiting for hobie to move back into the position he'd been in on the couch, "lookin' pretty, love?" and you hum in response, "mhmm", the camera clicks.

polaroids of him in the back of your phone case, prints of you in his. he'd caught you off guard once, laying on top of him in your bed, slipping in and out of slumber as his large, calloused hand rubs circles along your spine. looking down at you through his eyelashes, a stream of light from the closed curtains fell across your face. reaching to a discarded film camera on your bedside table, he placed a kiss onto your forehead and snapped a picture. after you got it developed, he stole it from you, taping it to the front and center of his guitar, so he can see it whenever he played.

walking through the streets of london, you stopped and stared at the window of a vintage camera store with pure adoration in your eyes. "hobie! hobie, look, it's my dream camera." he stuffed his hands in his pockets and joined you, "is it, darlin'?" and you nodded, hands pressed against the glass, "well, we better get it then, huh?"

he'd constantly come home with pockets full of fresh film or new lenses that he'd nicked during the day. even if he didn't understand or share the same passion, he'd be your number one supporter, bending over backwards to help in anyway he can. swinging you to the highest buildings and nicest views to get a good shot, playing up to the camera whilst you shot him performing one evening at a local pub. he was your muse, and you his.

just the thought of him slowly nuzzling you out of your shell in front of the camera, because you couldn’t deny the photos he took of you were artistically excellent, and you had an eye for it all. you’re straddling his lap, innocently, and he’s laying with his head on your pillow. one of his hands is on your thigh, the other holding a cheap film camera to his eye.

“just pose for me, beautiful,” he’s showing his teeth as he smiles, “hobie, no—” you try and push the camera away, but he insists, “please?” and there’s a second you consider it, before refusing once again. within a second, his hand has come up to your chin, taking it between his fingers and running his thumb over your lips to shut you up. you melt to his touch instantly, and when he’s caught your eyes fluttering and smile forming, he snaps a picture. “perfect.”

he comes along to all your exhibitions. bringing his band mates, or pav, gwen, and miles, to see your photography hung up. as much as he hates money, and spending it, he always buys at least 8 copies, just to see the explosive smile on your face when you see someone’s bought your work.

his chin would sit on your shoulder, watching you work away at your laptop as you edit photos. he doesn’t understand any of it, but he loves to see you work. he kisses down your neck, shoulders, rubbing shapes into your hips and thighs as you edit away, mumbling a complaint anytime he tries distracting you, “concentrate, love, you got this,” he mutters as he begins to kiss you particularly low, in a particularly sweet spot, hands slipping below the desk, “doing so well, pretty.”

head over heels for this man

[vinvantae]

Unmasked

Part 11/16

<<< previous part

Word count - 4.1k

warnings - minor injury. lots of social media posts. chapter starts off in first person!!

***

It’s a comfortably warm morning in Monaco, the café I’ve been asked to go to is quaint - tucked away in a narrow street off of the beaten path but you get a perfect view of anyone coming towards you. A waiting game to see which of the people who cross my path is going to be her. I can’t help but study every woman who steps onto the cobblestones, but as soon as I see none other than Charles Leclerc come around the corner, hand in hand with a woman - it all clicks into place.

Y/n y/l/n is Thirty.

Both of them greet me with a smile and a warm handshake as they step inside the cafe - bringing a cool breeze in as they open the door. Charles looks smart in a linen shirt, chain around his neck, and a watch more expensive than a regular person’s annual salary on his wrist. And y/n looks effortlessly beautiful in a sundress to complement the warm weather, before I can start digging into her being Thirty I have to ask about her perfume - her signature smell is to die for. She laughs, pulling out a travel size from her purse to offer it to me, swearing she has a full size at home.

As you can imagine, I have a lot of questions. But let’s just start at the beginning, how did the whole Faceless driver idea come about?

Y/n leans back in her seat a little, Charles’ tanned arm is draped lazily across the back and he uses his hand to squeeze her shoulder.

Ferrari were really interested in having me as part of the team but it was risky y’know? A woman, let alone an 18 year old woman in one of the top teams was unheard of.

She pauses as the waiter takes our order, Charles ordering for us all in Italian - I can’t help but notice the way y/n studies him, a soft sparkle in her eye. Their relationship seems easy and when she turns her attention back to me, she seems a little more sure of herself.

I was part of the Ferrari academy since I joined GP3, but that and then F2 just never felt truly challenging to me and I craved more. F1 was where I belonged, it was just about getting there. I believe it was Maurizio Arrivabene who ended up suggesting keeping my identity a secret. The press from that alone brought in more sponsors than the team had ever seen and as you know, Ferrari has never had much difficulty with that.

Her answers are rehearsed, not in a media trained way, but in a way of a woman who has had to keep her identity a secret for her whole career and is finally getting to speak the truth. I understand why she would want Charles here, her teammate and boyfriend is a calming presence - keeping quiet as he knows she deserves the spotlight after all these years.

You never won a championship in F2, how did you convince them that you were good enough for F1?

She takes a sip of her drink, taking a deep breath before softly shrugging her shoulders as if she’s not entirely sure herself.

I spent a lot of time in simulators and they could see what I could do on track from the races in F2 and GP3 that I did win. I like to think it was never a question of if I was talented enough for F1, not to be cocky, but I knew I was - it was whether or not it was worth risking me in Ferrari or if maybe I should start in a sister team. But in the end, it was for the best. I won them two championships after all, so I’d like to think that it was worth it.

Speaking of championships, not only are you the only woman to win the WDC but also the youngest overall, how did you feel?

A fond smile tugs at her lips and she reaches into her bag to pull out a small stack of photos. She slides one across the table to me - it’s of her in her driver’s room, helmet off but still in her full kit with her arms wrapped around the trophy that won her the title. I asked her who took it and she told me it was ‘Seb’ - Sebastian Vettel.

I was so overwhelmed. Everything I had ever dreamed of had come true but I couldn’t share it with anyone outside of Team Thirty and, of course, Seb. He brought a bottle of champagne up to my room and we drank the whole thing. It was one of the best days of my life, wouldn’t change it. If being faceless was what gave me the opportunity to accomplish my dream? Then I’m grateful for it.

And then you won your second in 2018, how was that?

Even better than the first time. Lewis and I had such an intense rivalry for those couple of years that it was such a strong feeling of victory. We raced so well against each other and really brought out the best in each other, I think. I’m not sure if he feels the same but I’m glad that we got to share that experience.

The couple both offer me another drink in unison when they notice I’ve finished mine, sharing a soft laugh when they realise. Charles leans over and presses a gentle kiss to her temple before taking our empty cups up to the counter to get us some more coffees. The two seemed so in sync as teammates, it’s no surprise that they work well as a couple too.

How was the transition when Charles joined the team? You’d been teammates with Sebastian for your entire career up until that point.

Honestly? It was a little scary at first. Seb was a mentor for me and when I had to meet Charles properly for the first time I was worried about how he would react. But, he’s been nothing but good to me. Before we started dating he’d always sneak into my driver’s room to keep me company and made sure that no matter how my race went - I had someone to talk to about it. He’s become my rock and I’m so lucky to have him.

He pushes me to be better, but has never let me be anything but myself.

When Charles returns to the table with a tray with fresh cups of coffee, he hands them out to us before sitting down - shuffling his chair closer to y/n so he can fully drape his arm across her shoulders. She relaxes in his hold, looking away from me for a moment to thank him for the drinks.

I know we’re interviewing y/n, but Charles, what was it like having to keep formula one’s biggest secret?

Difficult. He frowns a little. The amount of times I wanted to properly congratulate y/n or correct people when they said he was insane. I know I may get in trouble for this but I think keeping her hidden for so long was a mistake. Other women and girls should’ve been able to know that one of them was a formula 1 racer and a champion. She’s one of the greatest of our generation and she should’ve been celebrated properly.

I can see she’s touched by Charles’ words, despite - I’m sure - he’s said them to her before. This article is about learning about Thirty, yes, but I don’t think I can truly do that justice without talking about how the pair of them interact. I’m not sure whether it’s the years they’ve been teammates or the time they’ve been a couple but they just complement each other so easily.

So, you were teammates through 2020 and 2021, how did this relationship happen and why now?

The two of them share a look, one - as a journalist - I’m familiar with; whilst they do truly seem to care for each other, I have a suspicion there’s something they can’t tell me. But I don’t press.

I think during 2020 we were still just strangers, getting to know each other as people and as teammates. We didn’t spend a whole lot of time together outside of Team Thirty meetings or on the track y’know? And then 2021 I was in that title fight right up to the end so it just didn’t seem like the right time as I couldn’t really give him the attention he deserved.

We did begin to really become friends during 2021, he would make the extra effort to see me outside of meetings. And whilst Charles has since told me that he’s had these feelings for a long time, it took me a little longer. We’re definitely a case of he fell first, but I fell harder. I’m so smitten with this boy, you have no idea.

Charles was watching her as she spoke, the undeniable pink tinge of his cheeks was hard to miss. No matter what they were keeping to themselves, it was clear the two of them were very happy together. But it was time for more questions about the Thirty of it all.

So, why now? You’ve been faceless for nearly 6 years, what changed?

Well, after it leaked that I was a woman and I won the race in Imola - Team Thirty and I had a very big meeting about it. I’ve been ready to face the world for a while but with the team determined for another championship win this year, it was originally put on the back burner. But, I knew it was time. This year I could win my 3rd title and I wanted to do it with my face, my name not just a number.

I’ve also had so much support from both Charles and Sebastian with this. They helped me figure out just what to say to the team to convince them that now is the right time. I don’t know how long I’ve got left in this sport but I want to be here as y/n for at least some of it.

She excuses herself from the table to go to the restroom, that same fragrance from before following her as she walks past me. Charles sips at his coffee before leaning forward a little as if he’s got something juicy to share. I can’t help but be intrigued, leaning in also to listen.

She’s gonna do it, you know. The WDC is hers this year.

What about you? I ask. Shocked that he’d admit it about his teammate, he’s the Tifosi’s golden boy and is ahead of her in terms of points. He simply smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

I think now she’s got this out in the open, there’s truly nothing holding her back. She’s going to be unstoppable behind the wheel- this weight of her secret won’t weigh her down anymore. Yes, I want to be world champion, and you bet I’m going to fight for it until the very end… but I would be lying if I didn’t think she deserved it.

He straightens up in his seat as she returns, smiling as she leans down to kiss him before taking her seat - asking if she missed anything important. I know she’ll read what Charles said when the article is released but for now I keep it to myself, simply shaking my head.

Okay, let’s mix it up, get to know y/n a little more. What is your favourite track and why?

I think Bahrain is always going to hold a special place in my heart, I got my first win there. But, if I had to choose an all time favourite…I think it has to be a tie between Imola and Monza. Being surrounded by the Tifosi in such hoards really makes you want to do your best. Seeing oceans of red as you drive around is inspiring knowing all these people are in your corner. Now, I know in recent years, they’ve taken a particular liking to a certain Monaco native but they always showed me nothing but support and I hope they continue to do so now they know who I am.

Speaking of the Tifosi, do you have anything you want to say to them?

I mostly want to thank them for being my biggest supporters despite not knowing who was beneath the helmet. Thank you a million over Tifosi, I love you guys more than you’ll ever know.

Who was your racing hero growing up?

Oh there’s so many drivers out there I love but Susie Wolff for sure - she’s such an inspiration to women everywhere. And I know it’s probably silly but Lella Lombardi too, I know she only got half a point in her career but she made it into formula one when everything was against her and other women. But as a kid, it had to be Michael Schumacher. I met him a couple of times and he was nothing but kind to me. He was always honest with me that it was going to be tougher being a girl but he always believed in me and that… that was everything.

We’ve also heard through the grapevine that you’ve been approached by several other teams for next season, anything we should know there?

She smiles softly before shaking her head. Ferrari have actually matched the best offer I received, but at the end of the day they’re the team I want to race with so we’ve extended my contract for at least one more season - hopefully more. Besides, I’ve got the best teammate a girl could ask for.

Charles chuckled softly. Back at you, mon amour.

I think that’s all I really have to ask for now, thank you both so much for meeting with me. I’m not sure what I expected but you exceeded my expectations.

Oh wow, thank you so much. Thank you for being so kind… If I ever need to do another interview, you’ll be the first person I call. That’s for sure.

So there you have it, y/n y/ln is our mystery driver. I don’t know about you but I cannot wait to see what she does now that she’s been unmasked. This season has just got very interesting.

***

***

You weren’t a fool, you knew there was going to be a little push-back to your reveal - but there was a very loud minority who made it abundantly clear just how much they hated you, that they just didn’t believe you could possibly be the driver they had been supporting all these years. Within an hour of GQ releasing the article, #NotMyThirty was trending within the F1 community. They’d called you every insult under the sun and it was hard to focus on the praise when they were so loud and the press focused so much on the criticism. It didn’t help that once you’d been revealed, a certain Redbull team principal decided you weren’t worth the offer they made and he very publicly retracted it.

“Y/n, cherie.” You felt the mattress sink next to you as Charles sat beside you on the bed - the duvet pulled over your head. “We need to go soon, have a plane to catch.”

“...why don’t they just get Jenson to do it. Or better yet, get Michael up and on his feet so he can get in the car when I couldn’t possibly be a two time world champion.” You grumbled. “I’m just a stupid paddock-bunny.”

Charles frowned softly. “Hey. Those idiots have no idea what they’re talking about. You’re one of the greatest talents of our generation, they’re just jealous fools who couldn’t get into the sport if they tried.”

The Monegasque smiled softly as you peeked over the top of the duvet. It was hard for you to believe him but you knew he was going to sit there until he got you out of bed - so you put on your best fake smile. “You always know just what to say, huh?”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling a gentle hum from you. “Mhmm hmm, I’ve got a talent for it. Now seriously, get your beautiful butt out of bed… we’ve got a flight to catch.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when you arrived in Miami, Charles’ hand wrapped around yours as you both stepped into the paddock. The cameras and press were on you in a literal flash, you simply smiled and waved a little. “Hey, y/n, look.”

When you followed the direction of Charles’ finger, your heart skipped a beat when you saw fans at the barrier with signs for you. The loud minority who despised you were currently nowhere to be seen - people shouting and cheering. Your boyfriend was positively beaming as he tugged you over to them, you couldn’t believe people actually wanted your autograph and pictures with you.

You could feel tears prickling in your eyes when a young girl told you just how much it meant to her that she had a female idol in the sport. It was hard not wrap your arms around her and never let go so instead you took a photo with her. “I got you a present… made it as soon as I found out you were a girl like me, it’s a bit messy ‘cus I didn’t have a lot of time.”

As you held your hand out, she slipped a bracelet around your wrist - it was made out of chunky plastic beads; flowers, fake pearls and the word Thirty written out in pink. It was the girliest thing you had ever seen but you could tell just how much it meant to the girl - her little eyes sparkling as she waited for your response.

“I love it! Thank you so much!” You grinned. “Hey, I’ve got something for you as well.”

You took your cap off of your head and scribbled your signature on the brim before sitting it atop her head. “Think this suits you much better.”

Your heart felt full as she turned to her Dad and bounced with glee, showing off her brand new present. You smiled softly and as you turned to Charles, you were suddenly hit with a sharp pain in the side of the head, right by your eyebrow - making you wince and reach up, eyes widening when you pulled your hand back and you saw blood on your fingers. You only just saw a glimpse of security dragging a man shouting expletives away from the crowd. “Oh my god, y/n, are you okay?”

“Yeah uh… what..” You blinked a few times, feeling a little dizzy, eyes scanning the floor to see what he’d hit you with - eyes landing on a crumpled up can, as you pushed your toe against it, you could feel there was still some liquid in it. “I… I uh…I think I should probably go to the medical centre, just to be safe.”

“Of course, shit, yeah.” Charles looped an arm around your waist and helped you through the paddock. Before you left, you caught the eyes of the young girl again and the look on her face broke you - she looked terrified. She was the walking personification of how you felt in that moment.

You had to fight back the tears as the two of you walked through the paddock - the memory of meeting some of your fans for the first time, tainted forever by that one dickhead in a Redbull cap. You were expecting some hatred, but you weren’t expecting physical violence. As you stepped into the medical centre, you were immediately ushered into a room and patched up.

“I can’t believe he did that, cherie. I’m so sorry… I-I should’ve been paying better attention.”

Your brow furrowed as you got up from the exam table, the medic having left the two of you alone. Charles stood against the wall, head lowered as you crossed the room to join him.

“Hey, hey.” You took his face in your hands. “Don’t you dare, you couldn’t have known he was going to do that… I… I’m starting to think this was a mistake.”

“Y/n-”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry, I just… I knew there was going to be some backlash but, I’m not sure I’m cut out for this…”

“Cherie-”

“Can I just be alone for a little while, please? I’ll catch up with you later.”

Your teammate’s eyes flickered across you, you could tell he wanted to protest but instead he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before leaving you alone. The lights in the room hummed softly as you sat down in the empty chair beside the exam table, covering your face with your hands and letting out a soft sob.

Being unmasked was what you’ve wanted for as long as you could remember, but you hadn’t taken the time to really think about exactly what that meant. That your face, your name would be out there for everyone to pick apart. You wanted to put on a brave face and go out there, pretend it didn’t bother you but it did.

None of your achievements mattered - all that they cared about is that you were a woman, a fake, the drivers’ personal mattress. And your relationship with Charles was thrown right back in your face, the defending Ferrari was supposed to be doing didn’t seem to be helping at all. Any time the PR team spoke to the press, people always had some sort of comeback - another reason to add to the list of why you didn’t deserve any of it.

You rubbed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to shove all of the cruel accusations to the back of your head as you left the medical centre. As you turned towards the Ferrari motorhome, you saw Lewis leant against the wall - foot propped up against the wall as he scrolled on his phone, no one even batting an eye at him. He looked up at the sound of the door closing and gave you a gentle smile, pushing his phone into his pocket. “Hey, I just came to check if you’re okay. I heard what happened.”

“Said it was gonna come up as a bit of a black-eye but I’ll be alright.” You shrugged.

“I’m more worried about how you’re feeling, y/n. I know no one knows what you’re going through right now but I’ve been through similar enough crap to know that it’s not fun being singled out for something you can’t help.” His voice was soft as he stepped closer. “And I know it’s easier said than done but you just gotta try and ignore it.”

“...I don’t know if I can.” Your voice cracked. “Th-They’re attacking insecurities I didn’t even know I had. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this, Lewis.”

He looked around the paddock before checking his watch. “We’ve got some time, come with me.”

You lowered your head and followed your fellow driver into the Mercedes motorhome through a back entrance and up to his room - his dark eyes flickering back to you to make sure you were following close behind him. With a hand on the small of your back he ushered you into his room, closing the door behind. “You should probably text Charles, let him know you’re here.”

“Uh yeah… Yeah, good idea.”After texting your boyfriend, you sat beside your rival on the sofa, his arm draped across the back. “They’re going to crucify me if I have any bad races. Any mistake, any slip up… they’re going to drag me to hell and back. I just… I know I should ignore it, I do, but it’s hard to ignore when it’s smacking me in the side of the face.”

“”I know, I get it. I’ve been there… you just need to try and remember you’re not alone. I’ve got your back, so do Charles, Max and Sebastian. Don’t disappear into yourself, okay?” His voice was gentle but firm, but it just felt so quiet compared to the throbbing pain you felt in your temple.

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. Thank you… I should get going.”

You were taken a little aback when you were pulled into a hug as you stood, his strong arms would’ve made you feel safe in any other circumstance you were sure - but you just felt so defeated by it all. You gave him a gentle squeeze before heading towards your own garage, Charles throwing you a worried look from his side - still unsure how you’d ended up with Lewis. You simply nodded at him before popping into a side room to get into your racegear, ready to get into the car for the first time without your mask on.

“Hey, how’s the suit fit?” Your trainer approached you, a gentle smile on his face. “Must feel good that it’s finally got your name on it, right?”

“Uh yeah, it fits good.” To the untrained eye, the smile on your face was simply of a distracted person - getting ready to race, but Charles could read you like a book and he just knew something was wrong. Something more than a slight headache and the bruise blossoming around your eye was weighing you down and getting into the car in the mental headspace you were in was trouble waiting to happen.

But before he could cross over to you, try and clear your head just a little bit, he was summoned for first practice - one of his mechanics ushering him over to his car, allowing the driver to get one final glance at you as you pulled your helmet over your head.

All he could do now was hope that you wouldn’t get in your own way - as having a bad weekend would just sink you deeper into the feeling you weren’t good enough. You were a champion for a reason. But the minority who despised you were tearing you down, blocking your view from who you truly were and he hated that.

You took a deep breath from inside the cockpit, trying your best to block out the voices bouncing around your head as your engineer went over the programmes you would be running during the session. You just had to do well this weekend, no, not just well… you had to win. Everything was resting on your shoulders, they expected results now you were unmasked.

And you were terrified of what they’d do if you didn't.

***

************************

Next part >>>

Really hope you guys enjoyed this one!! There will be no chapter next weekend because I’m going to Silverstone 🏎️

Thank you for all your support on this fic!

Want to be notified when I post? Join our discord, head over to #reaction-roles and click the sunflower 🌻

[skrrts]

Hey, are you busy right now? ft. YEOSANG (drabble series)

✧ gn! reader x kang yeosang ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, fluff, dating, video call ✧ word count: 704

You tried your best, really, but after hours of studying, you can't read another page. Calling your boyfriend seems like a good idea for a small break: Yeosang is at the gym while you call him... how are you supposed to focus now?

The moment the video call was loading, all you could see were muscles and bare skin, leading to you making a funny noise, and almost dropping your phone.

A moment later, the very handsome face of said body showed, a little concerned with a hint of amusement on his lips: “Are you already my love?” 

You didn’t anticipate for Yeosang to be at the gym at this hour but then, why wouldn’t he? It was on his way from work and as you two agreed not to meet up until the weekend so you would force yourself to focus on your studies, he likely had plenty of time.

“I … you need to give me a warning when you are all there, hot and shirtless,” you whined a little but Yeosand was laughing in his deep voice, placing the phone likely against his bag as he walked over, on purpose so you could enjoy the view. 

How often did you tease people just how pretty your boyfriend’s face was while having this body? Yeosang worked hard for it, seemed fair you made sure everyone knew how he was all firm muscle and he could easily lift you up.

You patted your cheeks to stop blushing and he finally pulled over a tight shirt, before sitting down, bringing the phone closer to his face: “I thought since my beloved is working so hard, I should do the same.”

Oh, he could be such a tease! You pouted a little.

“I am working hard but I needed a break but now, after seeing this. Not sure if I am not too distracted to get back into these books. I will have flashbacks of this stunning few,” you teased and Yeosang was giving you a little grin.

“Hm, what do we do about this?” he was pulling off his most innocent expression, tilting his head in wonder and making you laugh.

“Hey, don't be like that!” 

Yeosang winked: “How about, I send you a cute photo? Will that chase away all of those thoughts, so you can complete your studies for the day?” 

Oh, how you rather would have him here by your side right now! Being held by those arms, all snuggled up and kissing, that was much more tempting but you needed to be strong! Once you were done with this, your very last semester, you would have more time for enjoyable moments with your boyfriend.

“That sounds acceptable and I am very generous and promise to send you one back, so you do not forget how I look, since it has been a day since we last met.”

This time, his gaze was all soft and loving: “How could I ever forget my most loved person in the world? One that should study well but also take breaks and eat proper food.”

Yeosang grinned a little, scolding you because you deserved it. He slowly stood up, pulling the bag over his shoulder.

“I have decided, I will ignore it. I am coming over and cook for you,” he announced and you made a face while trying to hide your excitement. 

“Isn’t that cheating? You are supposed to be my treat at the end of the week.”

Yeosang brushed long hair out of his face: “How about I am the motivation?”

You laughed, it made no sense but there was no way you ever had it in you to reject his offer, for that you were too excited about the idea of seeing him.

“I shall clean up the kitchen then, so you do not get a heart attack.”

He paused for a moment: “I will be over soon then, I love you.”

You did the same, blowing a kiss to the camera: “I love you, can’t wait to see you.”

It only took a few minutes after the call ended for a notification to show up. Several Yeosangs in one photo, showing you the progress of his hard work, muscles under a tight top.

You chuckled, taking a similar picture but with your textbooks. You would work hard … just for a little longer until it was time to dedicate yourself to the studies of kissing those pretty lips…

Oh yeah, you were a lost cause.

[watchmegetobsessed]

SNEAKY

A/N: actually surprised this concept made it into a fic, but here we are!

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

SUMMARY: Everyone is into the hot TA that substitutes for your professor. One sneaky picture leads you to what every girl dreamed of in class.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You’ve seen him around. All you knew that he was a graduate student, very good looking, someone freshman girls always stare at and giggle when he looks their way, but your paths never actually crossed.

Right until this casual Tuesday morning when instead of seeing Professor Russell, he strolled into the room and took his spot on the podium. Every girl in your class sighed at the same time as soon as he unbuttoned his suit jacket.

“Good morning, I was asked to substitute Professor Russell, he had some last minute family issues to deal with. I’m Harry, I’m his TA and I will try my best not to make you all fall asleep,” he joked and then started his lesson.

It’s been thirty minutes since then and every female student is eagerly listening to his words, paying more attention to him than they ever did to Professor Russell. And you’re no exception.

He is good-looking if you’re only considering his appearance, handsome face, fit form, a smooth voice and those sparkling green eyes all add up to his charm. Then he tops it all with his insane knowledge, talking about ethnonationalism as if he was born reciting studies about the topic. It’s always insanely attractive when a man has a brain and the looks as well.

The group chat you have with a few other girls in the class is blowing up, messages have been flowing about Harry, some of them are taking sneaky pictures of him, but they are sitting far in the back and for the first time they wish they were in the front row with you.

KACEY: Y/N I’m begging you, take a good pic of him!!!!

WREN: Snap a whole fucking portfolio for me pls!

They’ve been begging you and it’s starting to piss you off so you finally give in.

Unlocking your phone you open the camera and try to angle it from your lap to snap him, but not make it obvious. It’s harder than you thought, because he keeps pacing back and forth, so most of the pictures come out blurry until you finally take one clear one, sending it into the group chat just for them to lose their minds.

QUINN: I’m dead, I’m framing it in my dorm room.

WREN: How is he so fucking handsome???

KACEY: I’m touching myself tonight.

You almost laugh out loud at the last text, but manage to control yourself. When you look up from your phone you catch Harry’s eyes on you as he’s talking and you swear a shiver runs down your spine from the intensity of his gaze before he looks away.

When class is over you’re circled by your friends and you rush out of the room, but glancing back one last time your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before he disappears from your view.

After that, every time you open your camera roll you end up tapping on that one photo of him, musing about how good he looked and you can’t shake off the steamy thoughts that invade your mind when you lie in bed in the evening, imagining having him next to you. You wish you heard some kind of gossip about him, so many guys are talked about around campus, how they perform in bed, but you heard nothing about Harry, the only person you’re curious about.

Friday night your roommate is adamant to get out and have a few drinks, but you’re not in the mood, mostly because she always ends up abandoning you for his ex. Somehow, she bribes you into going to the sports bar for cocktails, swearing tonight will be different.

She pays for the first round and you start to loosen up, you see lots of familiar faces around, it’s a popular place for students. There’s a football game tonight, every TV in the bar is broadcasting the game, though it doesn’t interest you that much. After two more rounds you’re definitely enjoying yourself, mingling with other students around, just having a blast after such a busy week.

You’re at the bar, waiting for your turn to order another round when someone bumps into you from behind.

“Ow, I’m sorry.” Two hands grab onto your hips to steady you and when you turn around you’re surprised to see a familiar handsome face.

“Oh my God, it’s you!” The words roll off your tongue way too easily thanks to your tipsy state, but luckily Harry doesn’t mind your blunt reaction.

“It is me, yeah,” he chuckles. “And you’re… I’m sorry, I remember you from Professor Russell’s class, but I don’t know the names yet.”

“I’m Y/N. I sat in the front row,” you hold your hand out for him that he shakes gently.

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you narrow your eyes at him curiously.

“It means that, erm, I caught you sneakily taking pictures of me.”

Your eyes grow wide and your mouth runs dry, you got caught. You weren’t as sneaky as you thought, apparently.

“I-I’m so sorry, it’s not what you think, I was just—“

“It’s fine,” he chuckles, interrupting your rambling. “I found it funny.”

You’re slightly relieved he is not holding it against you and mostly that he didn’t call you out in front of the whole class.

“God, the girls in the back were bullying me to take a picture, I was pressured into it!” you laugh.

“Oh, poor thing,” he teases you, pretending to be touched, to which you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Wow, getting a little cocky, aren’t we?”

“Only with people who pretend to be paparazzi,” he grins down at you, placing a hand onto the bar next to you, his arm now pressing against yours.

“In that case, you should be just this cocky with everyone else in that class, because I was not the only one snapping pictures.”

“For real?” he laughs nervously and you find it endearing that just a moment ago he was so confident, but now you can see his cheeks turning pink.

“Absolutely.”

“Great. There goes all my professionalism,” he exhales, shaking his head slightly.

“Oh, poor thing,” you pout at him, using his own words, which catches his attention and his eyes cut to yours, an unreadable expression on his face. “Relax, big boy,” you at his arm. “At least you had everyone’s attention the whole time, Professor Russell could never achieve that.”

The bartender finally comes up to you and you place your order along with Harry’s as you carry your conversation on. If you weren’t tipsy you would definitely freak out, ramble and act weird, but the alcohol in your system lets you keep your cool and chat with him easily.

You get so engaged that you forget about going back to your roommate, you get stuck at the bar, talking and laughing with Harry who on top of being handsome and smart is also quite funny. He truly is the whole package.

You even have a shot with him, both of you ditching the people you came with, but when it finally hits you, you realize that your roommate is in the corner with his ex, as usual and Harry’s friends are too focused on the game to notice that he’s missing.

He is definitely your type and from the way he stay close to you all evening you’re guessing he might be interested in you as well, but you wouldn’t want to overstep any boundaries, though technically he is not your teacher. He only substituted one time, he holds no power over you in the school system.

When the bartender calls out for the last round you realize how much time has passed.

“Shit, I should get going, I need to study tomorrow,” you roll your eyes.

“Where do you live?”

“Bridgeway, it’s like five minutes away from here.”

“I’ll walk you home, it really is pretty late.”

You don’t protest, just grab your jacket and head out. The cold night air hits you in the head, but you’re definitely still tipsy by the time you reach your dorm.

“Thanks for the drinks and the walk home,” you chuckle, turning to face him in front of the entrance.

You don’t want him to go, the wildest part of you just wants to grab him by the collar of his shirt and drag him into your room, but you at least want to kiss those lips you stared at for so long at class and tonight as well.

“Good night, Y/N,” he nods with a polite smile and you know if you don’t say anything, it’s all gonna end here.

“You know, I still have the picture saved on my phone.”

He arches an eyebrow at your confession and he slowly steps closer to you, keeping intense eye-contact.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, it’s really useful on lonely nights when I’m in bed.”

Sober Y/N would have never said that out loud, but drunk Y/N is shooting her shot, big time.

Harry takes his time staring back at you, his eyes lazily dragging down to your lips, your body and then back to your face. He runs his tongue across his pink lips and you’re moments away from just throwing yourself at him. But before you could lose control he speaks up, leaning so close to your ear you can feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Go to sleep, Y/N. And if you feel lonely in the morning when you’ve sobered up, call me.”

With parted lips you just stand there, watch him reach into your back pocket to grab your phone. He types his number in and then hands it back to you. You should get going, but you’re frozen from the offer he just made to you.

“Y/N, be a good girl and go to your room, will you?”

You can only nod and somehow, your legs start moving, taking you into the building. It’s a complete blur how you get to bed, but you do. When you wake up in the morning you feel like a jeep has run you over, memories from last night slowly creeping back to your mind.

Harry.

One memory hits you after the other and then you remember what happened in front of the building. Did that actually happen or did you just dream it?

Reaching for your phone you frantically open up your contacts and there it is, Harry’s number saves, proof that last conversation actually happened. Your thumb hesitantly lingers over the call button until you suddenly tap on it.

It rings a few times and you’re right about to change your mind and end the call when he finally answers, his sultry, morning voice making you throb instantly.

“Hey, still feeling lonely?”

“Very lonely,” you breathe out, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’ll text you my address. I’ll make breakfast while you get here.”

“Are we only gonna eat?”

He chuckles lowly on the other end of the call and you have to bite into your bottom lip not to moan at the sound.

“I’m hungry for more too. What about you?”

“I’m starved.”

“Great. Then better hurry.”

And then the call ends. Suddenly, you’re not even that hangover.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[usafphantom2]

There is nothing that amuses me more than a secret inside of a secret.

Here’s an article that I wrote that my friend Dario Leone owner of Aviation Geek Club shared about the YF 12 and the secret SR 71 tail number 951.

Most people when they think of the YF 12 think of it as an experimental airplane that never really flew, but that is wrong. It did fly for many years. The last flight was in 1979 when it was flown to the Air Force Museum near Dayton, Ohio you can find it next to the XB-70.

The so-called YF-12C was really the SR-71A 61-7951, modified with a bogus tail number 06937 belonging to an A-12.

Taken in 1975, the interesting photos in this post show NASA Blackbirds carrying the ” Cold wall” heat transfer pod on a pylon beneath the forward fuselage.

The Blackbirds portrayed in these photos are usually referred to as YF-12s, but actually one of them was an SR-71 as Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer), who runs Born into the Wild Blue Yonder Habubrats Facebook page, told to The Aviation Geek Club: ‘In case anybody asked the pictures with the two NASA Blackbirds the one on the top is a YF-12 but the one on the bottom is an SR-71!

‘Another interesting thing about those pictures is that NASA was not allowed to have an SR-71 but they did and they passed it off as a YF-12!

In fact, the “YF-12C” was a then-secret SR-71A (serial no. 64-17951, the second production SR-71A) given the NASA tail no. 60-6937. The reason for this bit of subterfuge lay in the fact that NASA while flying the YF-12A interceptor version of the aircraft, was not allowed to possess the strategic reconnaissance version for some time. The bogus tail number actually belonged to a Lockheed A-12 (serial no. 60-6937), but the existence of the A-12 remained classified until 1982. The tail number 06937 was selected because it followed the sequence of tail numbers assigned to the three existing YF-12A aircraft: 06934, 06935, and 06936. Isn’t that amazing?’

The Coldwell project, supported by Langley Research Center, consisted of a stainless steel tube equipped with thermocouples and pressure sensors. A special insulating coating covered the tube, which was chilled with liquid nitrogen.

Given that the US Air Force (USAF) needed technical assistance to get the latest reconnaissance version of the A-12 family, the SR-71A, fully operational, the service offered NASA the use of two YF-12A aircraft, 60-6935 and 60-6936.

Eventually, with 146 flights between Dec. 11, 1969, and Nov. 7, 1979, 935 became the workhorse of the program while the second YF-12A, 936, made 62 flights. Given that this aircraft was lost in a non-fatal crash on Jun. 24, 1971, it was replaced by the so-called YF-12C SR-71A 61-7951, modified with YF-12A inlets and engines and a bogus tail number 06937.

The SR-71 differed from the YF-12A in that the YF-12A had a round nose while the SR-71 had its chine carried forward to the nose of the airplane. The SR-71 was longer, nearly 8 feet longer as it had an extra fuel tank that the YF 12 didn’t have. There were other differences in internal and external configuration, but the two aircraft shared common inlet designs, structural concepts, and subsystems. Also of note the SR 71C is really a combination of a static display of the SR 71 for the front half and the back half is the crashed YF-12!

In my study of all the Blackbirds, I have found other secrets inside of secrets. Such as the test SR-71 plane the 955. Everyone was told often that this airplane never left the United States, but that is not true.

When it comes to reconnaissance airplanes and War, even if it was a Cold War, Rearranging the facts is fair.

There will always be mystery in the SR 71 program.

Don’t believe that all of the secrets have been told.

I know that is not true.

Linda Sheffield, Daughter of a Habu

@Habubrats71 via X

Tap Title bar to view👇

[operation-ultra]

File -1 Mefilas (Highest Ranking S.S.S.P Earth Official)

You must have a clearance ranking of 41 or higher in order to read this file, reading at any rank lower will result in serious punishment.

I came to this planet oh I don’t know, 28 years ago for one purpose, to serve as the last line of defense against those “Ultras” ever since they became more lenient on what they consider harmful to the universe.

Don’t really care for this place’s inhabitants that much, I mean it’s a beautiful place really but the people are little more that hicks, it’s only a matter of time till those Ultras deem them harmful too.

Shin Hayata however is a truly a wonderful case study, the first ever case of fusion between two species, on top of being fused to the only Ultra that’s been proven helpful, I mean I was hesitant at first don’t get me wrong I was trying to get that Capsule away from him any chance I could, but that conversation with Zoffy really flipped my view of things

(I tell ya must of been hell being hit by a giant alien, dying, and then going to work the next week like nothing happened. Probably the reason why Bemular made a B-line towards the city, he sensed the Ultra was lying dormant there)

However that conversation did prove the rumors, they’re forming Zetton. When we got those satellite photos a while ago it really was the worst day in the office I tell ya, Baltan that next day freaked out and entered the human level HQ in a panic. I mean we were making progress on Saturn Z but not enough to stop that thing, Zarab panicking as well didn’t help much.

But we finally have a trump card, and I’ll be talking to Mr Hayata in a moment.

[lukolabrainrot]

A Study in Mirrors

(no not those kinds of mirrors you horny little devils...)

bestie there is one thing that's preventing me from fully accepting your study of who took the milk tshirt photo and that's reflections 🔍🕵🏻️‍♀️

luke's tattoo is on his left arm. when facing him, this would be to the right side of the veiwer's perspective. when looking at his own reflection in the mirror, luke would see his tattoo on the left side. now, we see the figure (F)'s reflection in the glasses, where the suspected tattoo (ST) appears to the right, meaning ST would be on F's right arm 😭

my hope was that you'd actually already mirrored the close up on the lens reflection to better compare it to the picture of luke. but i can't confirm this because when i edit the original picture i don't quite get the same view of F as in yours. Like in yours i can TOTALLY see luke in the blank tank top. and in fact this would completely rule out the possibility that eamon took the picture because his arms aren't as big as F's are in your photo. but for some reason none of my edits have even the same silhouette so idk. i'm hoping my phone just isn't powerful enough or something because i really want your conclusion to be true 😩

for now, i'm afraid the journal can't accept non-reproducible studies for publishing. we are giving you 3 weeks to submit an addedum to your paper rectifying the issues flagged by the reviewers 📑

status: paper pending review...

lol this gave me a good little chuckle!

I'll say I was more certain it was L (like 99% certain) based on the following:

The shape of the arms

The chest

The clothes (especially the tank)

The long, muscular leg that you can see extended in the bottom left of the pic in my post

I was never quite as certain about the tattoo 😂

But based on the other reasons I just listed, I was like that is totally L! And I could see the image of that body in EVERY TT image of that part of the sunglasses when I zoomed in on my computer. And N doesn't really hang out with any other guys that have a body type (and particularly arms) that are quiteeee like L (from my understanding)... 🤔

[cardboardheartss]

Breaking My Silence

bts sajaegi issue

Firstly I would like to apologise to my followers! I'm really sorry you all had to see me lash out and use such vulgar language, that was really embarrassing to be honest, which is why I edited my posts lol! I genuinely believe I only reacted like that because I was scared of losing this blog and I was really offended by that one ARMY, so I decided to just cuss her out because I could not imagine losing my one and only blog over a tarot post. Now back to why I have written this post, we all are aware of the BTS Sajaegi issue all over social media right now and from my tarot reading you can tell that it was in fact true. To be honest, I really do not understand K-Pop stan's obsession with Payola/Sajaegi, saying who paved/paid the way and all that ruckus. I need K-Pop stans to understand that ALL these companies pay for streams, sales, youtube views and etc. They need to understand that this K-Pop industry is hella competitive as hell, I mean we literally saw BSH wanting to step on AESPA, SM buying people to study NEWJEANS concept, SM staff listening to popular K-Pop songs to study the popular songs and see how they can replicate them, BSH debuting Sakura and Chaewon to compete with IVE and soooo many more instances. ARMY are all over social media posting concert photos of BTS tours, trying to prove that they did not use sajaegi does not make any sense to me?!

I really do not know how to explain this in words but different K-Pop groups have luck in being the "it" factor making it easy for them to pull fully dedicated fans this does not mean other groups that do not have that factor or fewer streams are not as talented compared to the groups at the top. I mean look at BTS, BLACKPINK, LE SSERAFIM, NEWJEANS & TWICE, they have that "it" factor to pull crowds both domestically and internationally, and I am certain they use sajaegi but does this sajaegi thing affect their quality of music, talents, etc?! NO! So why on earth are people taking this to heart specifically ARMY? I am currently listening to BTS as I am typing this and I will repeat this once again! The sajaegi thing really does not affect their talent and producing abilities, all of their discographies are honestly the best... so why would you cry and whine about how BTS paid for streams and awards. That is NOT what you guys should be looking at, the boy's music and talent because that is what matters the most. If newjeans were to come out and say they use sajaegi for streams, I would not be crying because why should I? I love new jeans but them buying streams will not affect my school fees payments and stationery money so... why are I-ARMY having a full-blown meltdown over things that will not affect them in their everyday lives?! THIS IS WHY IT IS IMPORTANT TO DETACH! PLEASE I BEG! So I need ARMY to stop attacking people for sharing their opinions and thoughts on this situation ANDD stop attacking other groups for the same thing right after this drama dies down soon! Attacking "rival" groups is not going to help in this current situation, and saying BUNNIES are not part of the "HYBE Family" because we agree with Min Hee Jin who tried to "bewitch" BTS? and also because we saying we do not want her to leave?! look... newjeans is where they are because of her, Min Hee Jin, they all worked together and became successful so why would we want that main person who created all of this to just pack her bags and leave? not saying we agree with her past actions, right now newjeans art and music are what we are worried about, and this is the main reason why we do not want her to go. anyways... I have a class in 5 minutes! later everyone!!