My Type// Chapter 1 (Knockout/Reader)

A party? Really, now? Well, being in the middle of pretty much Nowhere, Nevada, it’s not a terrible idea for meeting a special someone. Though what is special about anyone here? You’re almost certain you’ve seen every single guy in this desert town, so why bother showing up at a party filled with people that you’re tired of?

You sigh as you look over your outfit before you leave out for the night: a cute oversized sweater and a pair of black high-waisted shorts with sheer tights underneath; ankle boots that you might have spent too much money on; you didn’t spend a lot of time on your hair, but it’s only because it was admittedly perfect without much work anyways. You looked great, and it made you wonder why you could never find a nice guy to date. Sure, guys hit on you but... well, not the kind you were hoping to attract. To put it lightly, these guys were absolute creeps with only one thing on their mind. Those creeps aren’t getting any of this. I’m going to this party and it’s gonna be awesome. Tonight will be different. Tonight has got to be different.

Maybe tonight will be different. You’ve got a gut feeling that something good will happen tonight... that gut feeling actually could be something else related to the free tacos incident a few hours prior, but for now you wanted to believe that it was fate saying to get out of the house and quit being so pessimistic.

--

The house the party is being held at is only 15 minutes away by foot. You walk up to the curb and the house is a lot bigger than you thought it would be, and people are legit already passed out on the front lawn. Wow. Before you continue on, a gentle spark catches the corner of your eye. You glance over and see the most gorgeous red sports car you’d ever seen. Not many people know how adamant you are about cars of all kinds.As children, your brother never shut up about them, and constantly had magazines laying around the house. Bored out of your mind from playing doll, you picked up a magazine and admired this new kind of sparkly and pretty models. The curves, the different colors and makes, the speed and the power of each car blew your mind. This car, though, topped everything you thought you knew about cars. This one was out of this world when it came to its shape and luster. What a beauty!, you think to yourself as you approach the front of the car. The paint job almost glows with how clean and smooth it is, as if this car had never been on the road in its life. With a gentle touch, you run your fingers along the hood of the car as you walk towards the side. It's windows are heavily tinted, which piques your curiosity.

"What are you hiding in there?" Without really thinking, your hand guides itself to the door handle and pulls. The door is unlocked to your surprise, and you stand there a little dumbfounded. A moment passes before you decide to sit down in the driver's seat and close the door behind you. The inside smelled lovely, and the leather seating was comfortable to the touch. You run your fingers over the steering wheel, and you could have sworn you felt the engine purr ever so slightly. Startled, you check to see if a key was in the ignition... but of course there isn't.  You brush it off, and turn your attention to a strange insignia imprinted in the middle of the wheel. It's nothing you've ever seen before. Must be super foreign. "You're one of a kind, that's for sure. I can appreciate that."

"Mm, and I appreciate you appreciating me."

What. What. You look around frantically-- the backseat, the passenger seat, the ceiling, the floor-- and nobody was around. The voice definitely came from inside, but where? "Wh-who said that?! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break into your car, I was just looking and your door was unlocked!"

.... No reply. But you could not have possibly imagined that voice. Maybe it was the car? Maybe the car talks...like a built-in GPS. Or like a companion that talks to you if you get stuck on the road. The more possibilities that you think of, the cooler this car gets. "I'm gonna step out then...Car. You have a good one out here, and try to keep warm. Your owner is very lucky to have you." You smile warmly and pat the wheel a couple of times before exiting the vehicle. You pass the front of the car once more and head towards the house-- and the engine revved softly, the lights blinking a couple of times before shutting off as if it was never on. The smile never left your face as you finally pry yourself away from your new mechanical friend.

You take care to step over the drunken bodies and make your way into the house. Inside, it feels like the population of Nevada is jammed up into this mansion, so shimmying past people was a chore. The music is unnecessarily loud, but tolerable for now since you like the song that blasts from the towering speakers in the living room. The entire house bumps and vibrates with the bass humming throughout. Bodies gyrate and move all around you, and you feel like a ghost just wandering through without any real aim. You catch glances of some cute boys here and there, but of course they've either got a drink in their hand or their eyes on some other girl's ass. Or both. You roll your eyes and let your feet wander more, just enjoying being out of the house. 

Not fifteen minutes had passed before you run into bullshit.

A guy approaches you from behind and shouts to be heard over the music, "Hey, baby! It's so good to see you!"

You turn. Some tall, brick house of a dickbag was hovering over you, smiling. His breath was incredibly rancid with the stench of alcohol and the way he looked at you was unwanted, to say the least. "Baby?" You retort, cocking your hip to the side and glaring at him. You didn't know this guy and he was already over stepping so, so, so many boundaries. "I don't know who the hell you think you're talking to, but I'm already tired of dealing with you." You try moving away, but there are just too many people crowding around you, so you resort to just looking anywhere else but at this jackass. The only thing more interesting than him was the table at your side. Cups of punch are scattered about it (some of them look like they might have been drank out of). Tempting, you think with a slightly parched mouth, but they're probably all spiked. Is that what I smell on your breath, Tall Dark and Stupid?

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel a big, clumsy hand land on your shoulder. "Baby... don't be that way... I'm just trying to have a little fun with ya!"

"Fun. Your idea of fun is being a creep on girls at parties who obviously don't want your attention, then?"

He pulls back and his face screws up comically, putting a hand to his chest as if mortally offended by your words. You wish it had offended him to the point where he would leave you alone, but no such luck. "I'm no creep, okay? I'm a proper gentleman-- hic-- and I really just want to get to know you! Such a pretty girl, you are...like, damn." He mutters something drunkenly, his eyes following another girl as she scooted by. "Listen," he continues, sticking his pointer finger at you with the rest of his fingers curled around a half empty cup of something or other, "let me get to know you. I'll show you a real good time then, yeah? Like, vroom vroom all night! Ahaha! --hic--So, tell me, pretty girl: what's your type?"

For a split second, you actually don't really know. You didn't have a specific type; just anybody who wasn't like this guy. You try thinking of someone that you really admire. Someone that you might have been interested in for even half an hour before getting bored. Someone who you felt a spark with.

And then you get the perfect image in your head of a certain red car you saw on your way to this over-stuffed, alcohol-drenched party you tried dragging yourself to. You turn on your heel to face him, cocking your head and smiling bitterly. “Cars. Cars are my type. Vroom vroom, jackass.” Your fingers tighten around a random red cup and flick forward, splashing punch into his face. You decide he looks a whole lot better when he's on his knees and not being an annoying creep. The crowd around you turned their attention towards you and the guy, and amused ooh's and scattered laughter was the last thing you heard before making a bee-line to the front door again. You strut furiously down the path, this time not being so courteous of those bodies lazily strewn about in the yard.

You make it to the curb and look over to see if that strange car is still parked in the same spot. And it is. And it's accompanied by a rather dapper looking man who you're sure you'd never seen before. Something about him throws you off, yet you still want to chat with him. As you approach casually, you examine this stranger quickly: Neat, red hair that matches the color of the car. It's combed back with a few stray bits, but he makes it look good. A black tank top with a slightly oversized blazer. Pressed black suit pants, dress shoes, and an expensive looking watch. His face is thin and his features are sharp. He looks a bit dangerous, especially with that cat-like grin and strange red contacts, but you aren't the least bit afraid or shaken. You're actually attracted to him, the longer you look and the closer you get. You wonder what a guy like that... is doing at a party like this. 

You're not too far away from him now. His body is leaning up against the car's side, and he isn't turned to you but is probably examining you as well from the corner of his eye. Only as you approach, merely two feet away from him, does he fully acknowledge you. He's very tall now that he's upright, you note. He looks down at you, and he seems incredibly disinterested with his grin gone and a thick, black eyebrow cocked. He tilts his head and puts his hands on his waist. "Are you back to steal my vehicle away? Criminal returning to the scene of the crime, it looks like." Your entire face turns hot and your cheeks flush with embarrassment, especially now that he's grinning again. For a split second you think his voice sounds very familiar, but don't think much of it. You look away before speaking again.

"I wasn't...going to steal your car. I was just admiring it. Up close. Really close. Like, from the inside with my hands on the wheel and my foot on the pedal close."

He leans in closer, and his eyes lock onto yours in a threatening way. "Yes, I recall your little digits running wild and touching whatever you could."

"...I'm sorry?" 

"I mean," he says pulling away from you, a certain nervousness suddenly weaved throughout his tone, "that my car and I are very close. We're like one being, you could say. We're connected and I, ah, could just sense that someone was messing with me-- my car. You had better be glad your hands are clean, because I just had it waxed and buffed and everything!"

This guy is really in love with his car... "Well, thanks. I guess. I do appreciate hygiene. A-and your car!" You try changing the subject a little, gesturing towards the sports car. "It's really great! It looks amazing, to be honest, a-and actually I was just wondering just what kind of car it was? I mean, I think I've seen something similar but this is just beautiful. And it looks like it goes hyper speeds in no time, and handles turns like a pro, and doesn't take too much gas, and is super foreign! I mean look at it! And that symbol on the wheel, what--"

"Can I give you a ride home, hun?" he asks, that dangerous smirk returning suddenly..

You pause and look down at your hands. As you spoke, they seem to have found their way onto the passenger side door handle and were tugging at it. "Uh...yes, please."