#but i should be more active around here again!

[leonw4nter]

There Are No Cute Officers In The Station!.. save for one

RE2R!Leon x Teacher!F!Reader

“Tehila Kaufman.”

“Here!”

“Antonia Lange.”

“Here!”

“And… Sherry Birkin.”

The lack of a response caught your attention instead of her voice. You call her name again, looking around in the bus for any sign of the blonde 12-year-old. You observe each seat, counting and checking each student for any sign of Sherry.

“Sherry!” A classmate of hers calls out, shifting in her seat and pressing her hands into the foggy windows. You remind the class to stay put in their seats and be on their best behavior as you exit the bus to greet your pupil and her guardian, who looked a little frazzled.

“Sherry! Good morning, I was looking for you,” you say with a soft smile as you ruffle her hair which is styled into a braid paired with a strawberry clip near her temple.

“I’m really sorry, miss. The taxi we rode on the way here got pulled over by cops and it took us quite some time to find another one,” her guardian Claire apologized with a meek beam.

You smiled and nodded, understanding her situation; you have enormous respect for Claire, juggling an odd job along with college while also taking care of a 12-year old. Despite all the odds stacked against her, the teen always managed to make sure Sherry was ready for school, which included making sure she had complete supplies and was sent to school before the school day started. You reassured her that all is fine before informing her that Sherry should board the bus now since the bus is scheduled to leave for the Raccoon City Police Station soon to begin the whole-day trip.

“Bye, Claire! See you later! I’ll try to bring home a souvenir if I can afford some!” She excitedly beams, to which she chuckles brightly at. With one more wave and a hug, she finally hops on the bus and goes to her designated seat.

After doing one final headcount of all the students and asking any of them if they needed to go to the restrooms, you give the driver a go signal to hit the road. Since the elementary school was just 15 minutes away from the museum-turned-police station, you advised that the students take a quick nap before they arrive at the destination. You look back and see some students already taking their naps, though some were talking with their peers or snacking on some energy bars. With a small smile, you turn back to the brochure you were sent and go over the paper. The program would start with a quick greeting by the lieutenant Marvin Branagh before he hands over the main task to officer Leon Kennedy for the rest of the afternoon before ending the tour with a quick video presentation and an essay-writing activity on their experience. Since you went over everything that needed to be checked and there would be some moderate traffic on the way, you decided to also catch a nap of your own.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After that short nap, you spent most of the time reminding the children not to touch anything they weren’t given permission to touch and to avoid bothering the other officers there since they had work to do. You also reiterated rules once more which included asking questions respectfully, asking permission to go to the restroom, and no rough playing. You considered it perfect timing when your reminders came to an end, the driver announcing that the class had arrived at the RPD. All the students pressed against the windows nearest to the station’s gates, oohing and aahing at the sight in front of them.

“That’s so cool! Look at that!”

“I can’t believe this place is a police station now. It still looks fascinating!”

“I wonder if there’s going to be any cute officers in here,” you hear a pupil giggling to her friends. You chuckle at her outlook on the situation before responding to her, her cheeks burning pink like her sweater.

“There won’t be any cute officers, Clara. Admire the art and not the cops, okay?”. She responded with a giddy grin and gave you a thumbs up, still giggling with her friends. Well, that was as much as an adolescent girl can promise but you didn’t mind too much as long as she didn’t get in trouble. After all, it’s not like you could judge her when you’re out on a personal mission to find a worthy bachelorette for your coworker Lilia’s affections; she could really use some help in rekindling her love life.

After a few minutes, you instructed your students to leave the bus in an orderly manner before lining them up by girls and boys in order to enter the beautiful station. The last thing people expected a museum to transform into is a police station and the RPD did a damn good job at it. Although much of the museum has been changed to fit a more police station feel, there were still remnants of the past museum that stayed like puzzle mechanisms, the statue up front, and the library that still stood according to the contractors involved in transforming the building. Those were only what you’ve read somewhere so of course, there’s going to be more locations within the precinct that were left unchanged during the renovation. Now that all your students have finally calmed down and straightened their lines,  you begin leading them inside the gates and eventually into the precinct proper. The entire way to the large brown doors, your students quietly observed the various red and green herbs near the fences along with other ornamental flowers but occasionally oohed and ahhed some more, especially when officers started coming out of the door to welcome the eager students. The giggles and excited chuckles increase in volume, the electric excitement sizzling in the air– even the officers were excited, some of them also giggling and beaming widely; it seems like they’re just as excited as the kids are. Now that the class is right at the entrance of the precinct proper, you give them the cue to quiet down before greeting the three officers ‘good day’.

“Good day, officers!” They all greet in unison, genuine smiles on their lips. Their greeting pulls gleeful laughs from the officers before one of them speaks up.

“Good day to you as well, students. I’m Marvin Branagh, the Lieutenant for the Raccoon City Police Department but you may call me Officer Branagh. Here with me are officers Jill Valentine and Brad Vickers. They will help me in explaining the history of the museum up until recent renovations and then we’ll hand over the task to Officer Kennedy, who is waiting inside. He will act as your tour guide around the station– he may be a rookie but he’s well-versed in the rooms and artifacts in here so I trust that he will be able to execute his job well.”

The students nod, most of their gazes now peeled on the door instead of the officers. Jill chuckles and looks at you, giving you a kind smile.

“I guess you guys look ready to head in. Do you wanna head in now?,” she asks with a bright beam.

“Yeah!” Your students respond all together. Brad chuckles, giving Jill a friendly smack to the back.

“Hmm, I don’t feel the energy. Are you guys really ready?”

“YEAH!” They respond even louder, some of them cupping their hands to their mouth. Jill looks pleased with the hyping she’s done, giving Brad a confident look before she directs them in. “Alright. Let’s head in.”

With a small grunt, she and Brad open the doors to reveal the interior of the station. As soon as the kid last in line enters, you follow and take a look around for yourself. Your gaze falls on the ceilings and the wooden accents on the walls, stairs, and pillars before you really drink in the sight of the marble statue right in front of you. The Statue of the Winged Goddess is a lot taller than you thought, pictures now seeming to not capture the breathtaking marble sculpture. Even your students were stunned into silence, quietly appreciating the statue and the rest of the station’s wonders. “Wow, it’s so pretty” you think to yourself. “I should visit here again by myself sometime.”

“I see everyone’s got their breaths taken away by the beautiful Goddess in our station,” Brad’s voice snaps everyone out of their trance, you included.

“I get it, I was like that too when I first got there. Couldn’t stop staring and marveling at her, she’s a beauty isn’t she?”

The students murmur some “uh uh”s, unable to really tear their eyes off. You managed to snag your attention away from her, a little surprised at how your students were more enamored by the statue than the remnants of the museum that remained in the form of wooden accents and carvings on the Roman Tuscan columns.

“Alright, class. Eyes on Officer Vickers, he’ll be explaining the history of Raccoon City and the museum before it got renovated and reworked into a police station,” you say. They lead the students towards a room and they take their seat, sitting with their friends though you reminded them not to be too noisy.

“I advise that you take out notebooks and pens because you will have a written reflection activity by the end of the trip.”

The news of an essay activity due soon drew groans and complaints from your pupils but they still brought our paper and pens, ready to listen to the presentation.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After the 30-minute long presentation on various facts and information regarding the city and the station’s history, Brad finally wrapped it up. In the first half of the presentation, Marvin left the room and went somewhere to go look for someone, Officer Kennedy you assume. Jill and Brad took turns presenting, the pair doing their best to make this as interesting as possible for the children to keep their attention hooked on the slides and the short video that will be shown later on. Jill and Brad shared stories about how they came to work at Raccoon City, their younger years, their experiences when they were rookies, among many others.

“Jill here nearly got crushed during an investigation up there in the Arklay Mountains, carried around the ‘Jill Sandwich’ nickname for a bit,” Brad reminisced with a wicked grin while Jill was in the corner, arms crossed with a smirk while she tilts her head down and shakes it, brown strands swaying along to the motion.

Some students giggled, laughing along to their jokes; though it was easy to make them laugh, you’d bet that their cheeks would hurt by the time they got home due to how wide they were grinning. Sherry was talking amongst her friends, beaming and whispering every now and then. She seemed a lot more excited than the rest, if that was even possible; she kept looking towards the door where Marvin left but you didn’t really mind since it didn’t look like Sherry was too bothered by anything yet you made sure to still look after her well.

“That is it for our presentation, how was it?” Brad asked. “Anyone got questions? Clarifications? Insights?”

“Calm down, Vickers. Let the kids choose what to answer man,” Jill teased.

Casey raises his hand, waving it in eagerness to share what he possibly has to say. Jill nods to him, giving him the go-ahead to speak.

“It must be so cool working here! I mean– you got cool lookin’ statues and puzzles everywhere!”

Brad nods, smiling sincerely at the boy. “Yeah, it’s cool working here but it gets boring sometimes. Sometimes the day is slow and police work isn’t all going on missions and shooting guns– there’s times where we just sit at our desks and read mountains of reports but I love my job.”

Jill agrees, sharing an experience of her own for a few more minutes before officially wrapping up the presentation. “Now that everyone’s run out of things to say and ask, it’s time for the station tour to be led by our own rookie, officer Kennedy.”

You hear the door slightly creak along with the shuffling of shoes, soft taps of the soles of their footwear against the marble floors. You turn your head to observe where the sound is coming from and you swear you saw the sun walk in clad in blues and RPD badges. You try to stop staring at him shamelessly, to not gawk with your jaw parted but you fail; the longer you stared, the surroundings blurred into insignificance and all noise died down, the cheesiest romantic song you know seemingly playing in the distance the more he walked. It seemed perfect that this tall glass of water walking towards the front of the class worked at a building that used to house the finest pieces of art; this man looks like he was sculpted by a maestro. He didn’t say or do anything but his presence commanded your eyes, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He must’ve really had you under his spell since you didn’t notice your grip loosening on your tumbler, the metal bottle falling and creating an irritating clanging sound. The pretty officer whips his head towards your direction, his gaze aimed straight for your eyes before dropping down to the tumbler on your foot. Before you could bend down and pick it up before mumbling an apology to everyone, he rushed towards your direction to pick it up for you. Neatly trimmed nails and long, slender fingers wrapped around the bottle to hand it to you. As he stood back to original height, he locked eyes with you before extending his hand.

“Here. Cute stickers, by the way,” he softly whispers with a small smile. A warm gust of air escapes your lips, exhaling a breath you didn’t know you held. You could simply nod and look dumb in front of who is possibly the most gorgeous man you’re ever seen, what a way to create a first impression. You take the bottle from him, the tip of your finger brushing against his hand causing your finger to feel an electric tingle on where skin met.

“Thanks,” you mumble with a wonky smile. He nods at you before heading to the front to really start the tour.

“Leon!”

You crane your head to where Sherry is standing– or, was standing. She shot up from her area and ran towards Leon, giving him a big hug with her arms wrapped around his waist. Leon looked pleasantly surprised, returning her hug with a hug of his own, his hand around her shoulder. “Don’t worry guys! We know each other,” Sherry explained coolly. Leon chuckles, nodding along and confirming her statement. He gives her kind pats to the back, the room looking a lot brighter every time he chuckled; the way his eyes wrinkled when he grinned big reminded you of a golden retriever puppy, down to the color of his sun-spun hair and his overall aura. You had to blink away the trance he unknowingly set on you, turning your attention back to the students and the other officers in the room, acting as if your heart wasn’t rattling at the rib confines of your chest. You hoped that your cheeks weren’t a vibrant red, standing out from the rest of your appearance.

“Good day, students. I’m Officer Kennedy and I’ll be your tour guide around the station. Although you are free to look around and take pictures, I’m going to set some rules down for the class, does that sound great?” He throws up two thumbs up, looking at the children for confirmation. You swore that your nails would dig into the paint of the tumbler, causing the paint to chip away a little bit due to the sheer force you were exerting into holding on that tumbler just to stay calm. You couldn’t possibly have a crush on an officer in a station you visit for a trip! You’re not even sure if you’re going to come back here anytime soon! Now that the kids had given him confirmation, he puts his hands down, and chuckles a little more before continuing on with the explanation.

“As I’ve said earlier, you can take pictures and take sketches but please do not place your hands on the display, draw on any surface, or play with the artifacts. Most of these are old and possibly even the only of its kind so we advise you to proceed carefully. Everything clear?”

The students once nodded again, some students repeating “clear” back to the man in front of them.

“Okay. Now that that’s done, I would like to ask you to form a line outside the briefing room before we start.”

You direct the students to get up and form a line of two but surprisingly, Leon helps you even if the task doesn’t seem to be bothering you. He shoots you a small smile as he continues to assist you in arranging the students, which didn’t take much. Now that everyone was arranged accordingly, he began to lead the class around the station while receiving smiles and thumbs-up from his coworkers who seemed to be hyping him up while Marvin looked on proudly. You smiled at the thought since it was nice that they all seemed to have a bond closer than you thought. Leon was just about to look ahead again, turning his head back to face the corridor ahead when he caught your gaze.. He held eye contact for a little bit before breaking away and you swear you left behind your soul downstairs. This is going to be one interesting trip, especially with a charming officer charming his way into your heart.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

All went smoothly until you noticed the line looking a little too odd. Well, that’s because someone happened to be missing. The moment you realized that someone had managed to slip away and wander into the myriad of rooms in the upper floors of the station. As soon as you noticed, you made the children neaten up their line before giving Leon a tap on the shoulder.

“Officer,” you whispered. “I’ve got a missing student! I don’t know where they are, probably in one of the rooms. I swear I saw them just a few moments ago, must’ve slipped away.”

His eyes widen but not before he takes one more glance at the line of children, curious as to why the productive tour suddenly stopped. Some students seemed to have picked up on a missing student, asking where their peer might’ve gone off to. Leon places a reassuring hand on your shoulder before reaching into his walkie-talkie to radio to the other officers to look for a missing student, giving descriptions of their hair color and clothing. The tour had to be put on hold, Leon directing them back to the holding area and making sure no one else slipped off. Leon took your hand and looked into your eyes, determination and hope shining bright in those eyes of his. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, instructing you to stay with your students for the meantime.

“Don’t worry, miss. We’ll find them in no time. In the meantime, please ask officer Bass to reach into the drawer to my right and get the bags of mini donuts. The kids deserve a snack.”

He nodded and began to walk off before turning around to face you again. “Help yourself to some too. It’s been quite the morning.”

As soon as he left, another officer came in. “Bass”, his patch reads. Leon must've called his attention before he left, telling him to come in. You told the officer about Leon’s directions, disappearing through the door before coming back in with bags of mini donuts for the class. You open up bags and instruct students to take what will satisfy their hunger, making sure that there’s other pieces for other students. You decided not to have some, anxiety disabling your ability to feel hunger at the moment. You can only hope that this issue is resolved before parents get involved.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Miss Y/N. Found them,” Leon says. His large hand is on the student’s shoulder, the student looking a little sheepish after realizing he got the class worried. They were fiddling with the straps of their bags, gaze downcast towards the ground as the officer walked him towards you. “Found them in the entomology room, was sketching some beetles.”

You walk towards your student, checking around if they lost anything or appeared injured even if they were just sketching some insects.

“Are you alright? When did you slip away from the rest of the line?” you softly ask. “Why didn’t you ask permission?”

Your student stayed silent, a little too shy to answer any questions for now. Eventually, they spoke up but in a hushed voice.

“I got a little distracted with the longhorn beetle display and forgot to tell everyone else that I was there at the insect-display room,” they explain. “I didn’t mean to make everyone worried and I’m sorry for causing a fuss all over the station.”

Leon chuckled softly and bent down to his level, a kind smile displayed on his face. “Hey, it's fine. Just make sure to tell your teachers or any adults if you’re going to go somewhere, okay? Nice drawing back there though. You’ve got a knack for art.”

The student smiles a little bit though they’re still stiff. You lead them to the rest of the group, the tour day ending. Some students pass a few mini donuts in their direction. You finally call up the driver to come pick everyone up and go back to the school, where their guardians will fetch their children.

“I don’t think you had a donut,” Leon asks with a boyish grin.

“Yeah. I didn’t,” you softly respond.

“Anxious?”

“Yeah. Well, I was because that’s my student and how could I be so careless to let something like this happen?”

Leon stays silent, standing right beside you as he observes the kids along with other officers deployed during the incident earlier.

“They’re here now, safe and sound too. I guess this is a learning experience for all.”

His comment pulls a small grin from you. What he said wasn’t even remotely funny but it somehow made you smile. God, were you all sappy for him already? Well, it is easy to make you smile. Maybe you’re subconsciously using smiling as a way to calm yourself down and try not to be too overwhelmed with the incident from earlier.

“Well, since you didn’t have a snack earlier… What if I take you up on a donut run one of these days? Next week, maybe– or any time you’re free?” He asks. “I know a couple places.”

His cheeks flush to the shade of cold watermelons on a hot summer day, the sudden burst of color a contrast to the pale skin of his face. You noticed him fidgeting with a loose thread of his pants, a little nervous on asking you. You beam wider, accepting his offer and setting dates, exchanging numbers. Just as you finish writing down the last digit of your number, the bus arrives. Quickly, you arrange your students again and begin leading them out the station, reminding them to thank the officers for their patience and time.

“I’ll walk them out,” you hear Leon say to his superior as he accompanies you to the bus and helps the students jump up on the steps, reminding them to be careful and to have a safe ride back home.

"You too, miss Y/N. Have a safe trip back home.”

“Will do, officer.”

He takes your wrist and gently helps you up even if the height isn’t even that great to begin with. You give him a thumbs up before waving him bye. You’ve already made a mental note to come back there and sign up on an itinerary tour as soon as you arrive in order to take some time admiring the architecture for yourself but turns out you’re going to be coming back to admire someone who you wish will be all to yourself soon.

NOTE - This was supposed to be posted 3 days ago in time for my birthday but I was busy with so much school work, I wasn't able to post this on the date I set for myself 😭😭 My birthday was cool actually: I almost got lost in another town, I passed an admission test that I got sick and miserable for, and my best friend got me a Chris Redfield capcorom!!!!! Taking Chris wherever I go now like I'm out here greeting him good morning or good night before I go to bed 😭😭 I forgot to ask my mom if I can get a birthday cake so I was unable to print my Leon, Dante, Vergil, and Nero cake-toppers BUT IT'S FIINEEE. I was losing motivation due to being unable to work on this because I have requirements due and this fic was marinating in my document for 2 weeks so... yeah :| Fic releases will be less frequent since I've got so much things to do lately. I'm also still accepting requests so feel free to drop by in my asks. OH RIGHTT my team for our sports festival on dodgeball won despite having absolutely ZERO practice so I'm proud of that :) Anyways, that's it and thank you so, so, so much for reading my fics!!!!!! I <333333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!

The dividers are from @plutism , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 2 remake #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #fluff #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil 2 #re2r #re2 remake #biohazard

[hellisharchive]

・﹒・ i am a god, now bow

Summary: Adam was an angel that you've come to hate, from his attitude to the fact that you're privy to knowing about the exterminations led by him, you never liked him. He wasn't ignorant to this hatred, and wanted you to know just how much you should be praising him instead.

Warnings: 18+, degradation, blowjob (m receiving), dacryphilia, dub-con, hair pulling

Pairing: Adam x GN!reader

Notes: Again I literally dont know wtf im doing with smut yet i continue to write it. Not beta read as always forgive any mistakes

Heaven was perfect, when was it not? Every second was full of happiness and joy and beauty. Well, it was when Adam wasn't around. He was the bane of your existence and made every second of him being around pure Hell. He was arrogant, cocky, and always liked making an ass out of you. Every interaction with him was insufferable. You don't make your hatred outwardly known to him- but you do act snarky on purpose and deflect his attitude right back. He needs to be put in his place.

He normally talks to you on the promenade since you actively try to avoid him everywhere else, you know he does this on purpose. He just loves talking to you every chance he gets, always here with a Lute usually slurping loudly on whatever drink he has that day. That also pissed you off. You would avoid this part of Heaven if you could, but Saint Peter was your friend so it was easier just to hang around here for when he takes breaks. He knows about your disdain for Adam and usually tries to calm you down. It usually works, but some days it doesn't. Today was that day.

"Peter, I just can't stand him! He's such an ass and I swear he always tries to makes me as pissed off as possible!" You groaned as you felt his hand gently rub your back, being careful to mind your wings, as he knew talking would just interrupt your venting.

"I don't know why he's and asshole! Like sure he's the first man ever created. Cool I guess? No reason to be so arrogant ugh! Yesterday he literally told me that-" before you could tell your friend what bullshit Adam said, the man himself made himself known.

"Told you what? That I got a big dick?" He smirked as he approached, how long was he there for? You froze and stared at him for a second before regaining your composure and taking a deep breath.

"Fuck no, go away asshole before I make you" You scoffed and looked over at Peter who looked so nervous that he wanted to fly away. You felt bad because you didn't want him to be involved with all of this. "Come on Peter, let's-" You aimed to grab his arm to pull him away, but a hand wrapped around yours first, and it wasn't Peter's. Turning, you saw Adam gripping your wirst with a smirk on his face and he started to pull you in his direction.

"Hey! Let go of me asshole!" You struggled against him, but due to his size and strength, he was successfully dragging you before opening up a portal and throwing you in. You had no time to fight back as you hit something soft, looking around in disbelief, you were on a bed. Were you in his bedroom? Looking ahead, you watched as he walked through the yellow portal and closing it once he was fully inside.

"Nah, you need to learn your place, bitch. Now start undressing, or do you want me to do it?" You just stared at him in shock, eyes wide as you quickly shuffled to the other side of the bed, hitting the headboard too soon. He ripped off his mask, revealing short brown hair, and his smirk seemed even more imposing as he snapped off his robes to be only in his underwear. You didn't want to, but if he can do that, then you might as well retain some dignity and do it yourself.

"Fine! Fine! I will" You knew he was going to fuck you, you knew how he was, but for some reason you couldn't say no. Why couldn't you? You hated him, yet you're taking this treatment. Yet you couldn't deny that some weird part of you liked this, why did you like this? Gulping, you watched as he stared at you hungerly while you took your shirt off- being careful to mind your wings- and then your pants. As soon as you were just in your underwear, he pounced on you, caging you in with nowhere to go.

"You know you can always say no, back out now and we can forget all of this, I won't be upset" He leaned close and whispered in your ear before pulling back and hovering just a few inches away from your face. Your heart beat faster and you stared at him with a bated breath. He was giving you an out? He was giving you and out.

"Fuck it" You mumbled before grabbing his neck and pulling him in for a kiss, smashing against his lips, he happily returned the passion. It didn't last last, however, as he pushed off of you and stood up.

"On your knees" Only in your underwear, you obeyed him despite the nagging feeling of embarrassement. Nobody has ever told you to do that much less you complying without argument. But you did anyways, you still hated him, you were sure. Now on your knees on the floor, almost naked, you looked up at the first man who had on his signature smirk.

"Suck my cock, Bitch" You were starting to have doubts now, seeping into your veins. Now you were thinking that this was a really bad idea. When you didn't move, Adam snarled and grabbed your hair, pulling you closer to his clothed cock. The action caused you to yelp and tears to form in your eyes.

"Fucking do it, I am your god and you should treat me like one" Taking deep breaths, you harshly pulled away from his grasp, him letting go of your hair, as you felt the conflicting emotions flicker in your mind- and body. A part of you knows you shouldn't be treated like this by someone who aren't even in a relationship with. But the other part loves the thrill and adrenaline and were getting noticeably wet. Glaring at him, you took your shaky hands and wrapped them around the waistband of his underwear. Taking the plunge- you pulled them down all in one go. It was a little bigger than average, but it was quite girthy. You said nothing as you stared.

"I am your god and this is how you earn my forgiveness. In fact, I want you to beg for my cock" You froze as his words, he wants you to beg now? You should just stand up, grab your clothes, and storm off at his treatment of you. He was disgusting. Yet- here you were, you already were on your knees for him, you already were this far. Well, if he wanted to play that game, you might as well give it your all. Swallowing your pride, you caved.

"Please Adam, let me suck your cock" Your voice was shaky, not firm at all and that caused a huff from him.

"I'm not convinced" Breathing in, you muster up all the confidence you could.

"Please Adam, I want to suck you off until you're dry and your cum is spilling all over me" Your pride completely disappeared as you stared up at him with narrowed eyes, hating the way he made you feel, hating how he could make you do such things that no other man could. But, he bent down and grabbed your face with both of his hands as his lips ghosted yours.

"That's more like it, Slut" He whispered, causing chills to go down your spine as he roughly released you, before shoving your head to his dick again. This time, you felt it rest against the side of your cheek, causing your face to ignite with heat. Pride long gone, you pushed back against his thighs and his cock suddenly became intimidating to you. You were supposed to fit that in your mouth.

"I don't have all day, Bitch" Sighing, you gently grabbed his member and started to rub back and forth lightly, testing the waters. He hitched his breath before he mumbled something you couldn't hear. Leaning closer, you gave a kitten lick to his tip and you could watch his thigh tense up slightly. Deciding to dive in- you swirled around the top of his shaft and sucked just at the head. You felt his hand hold the back of your head and push you in a bit, and you felt the sudden intrusion of his cock in your mouth. Stopping your ministrations, you sent a death glare his way and he just put on a happy innocent smile.

But you continued anyways- going deeper and slowly taking him all in while wrapping your tongue around him. You heard him breath out "fuck" as you started to bob your head back and forth, increasing with speed as you sucked on him, holding onto his thighs tightly. You then felt his hand on your head again as he guided you, wanting you to go faster. Tears brimmed your eyes again as your mouth was completely full and you were going so fast now. Yet, you couldn't help but feel yourself get even wetter, why? He was a terrible person.

"Fuck I'm close... You ready to swallow the first man's seed?" If you were able to roll your eyes, you would, but just as he said that, his cum spilled all in your mouth. It was somewhat salty, milky nonetheless, and thick. His cock was slowly eased out of you as you swallowed and coughed, bracing your hands on the floor as some of your mixed saliva and his cum spilled, making a small puddle. You sat and caught your breath as Adam leaned down, gripping your chin in his hand, he forced you to look up at him with tears growing in your vision, shame washing over you.

"I like it when you cry, Bitch, because you know your place. You are below me and always will be. You are a peasant, and I am your god"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader

[xxshadowbabexx]

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys Pt I: Howdy

headcanon inspo

check series masterlist for series warnings

You were bored, broke, and lonely. Not to mention horny.

It had been ages since your last fuck, so you did what anyone looking for some dick in these modern times did. You opened your preferred dating app.

The first thing you noticed was a lack of matches, although you aren’t very active on the hellsite, so it shouldn’t have been of any surprise. That just meant it might take a bit longer to get a match.

You swiped for a bit before a profile finally caught your eye.

His bio wasn’t your taste, but he was decent looking and clearly here for some sex. It couldn’t hurt, right?

You swiped on him, and it’s a match, but you decide to continue profile shopping before messaging Brian. Just in case.

Several dozen profiles you’re not interested in, and a message for Brian.

Brian: Hey luv

Brian: Since you chose me I assume ur here for a rough poundin

…Ew.

Yeah, he wasn’t getting a response.

And then there was Alexander.

Close by, but clearly looking for something long term. And you’re not looking to be a mom right now. Nope.

You were about to log off- you had swiped through about thirty profiles. But then again, five more couldn’t hurt, could it?

And you were so glad you decided to swipe a bit more, because the fourth profile was incredibly intriguing.

Incredibly muscular. Masked. Large age gap. Nearby. Only looking for sex, and willing to pay???

It was a dream come true. Or a scam. You tried not to think about that as you swiped yes on him.

Much to your surprise, he had swiped yes on you, too. But now do you message him? Do you wait for him to message you first? What are you supposed to say? You found yourself typing before you could stop yourself.

You: howdy

You facepalmed. What a dumb first message. You were trying to seduce this mysterious masked man. Charm him with your wit and then keep him for his dick and money. “Howdy”? Really?

You set your phone down on the table, sighing. Maybe you should make some food and cut your losses, but then your phone dinged.

Simon: Howdy? Don’t tell me your a southern-American prick now

You grinned, thank fuck you didn’t deter him.

You: oh i’m definitely not lol

You: so based on your bio are you like a sugar daddy???

His response was instantaneous.

Simon: Of sorts

You: ????? care to explain

Simon: If you’re free tonight we can meet up for a lay. If I enjoy myself then we can negotiate

You shouldn’t. It’s such a safety hazard. You really shouldn’t.

You: luckily for you i am

You: where do you want to meet?

•••

“Oh my fucking god Simon~” you mewed, throwing your head back and digging your hands into his mask. His balaclava was pure black and pulled up to rest on his crooked nose.

He grunted against your pussy, “Yeah? Tha’ feel good?” he smirked, lapping at your hole greedily.

You nodded, “So good. So fucking good,” you panted.

One hand moved up to press on your stomach, holding you down and forcing the pathetic thrusts you had been doing against his face to stop. His other hand moved up to palm your chest. He groped the fat, pinching it between his fingers and prodding at your nipple with his thumb.

He sucked your clit. Hard. Then pulled his face back, and smacked it with his hand.

“Filthy fucking thing. Just like you, hm?” the words sent a burning feeling deep into your belly and you felt a coil tighten.

“Yes- yes!” you gasped as he curled his fingers into your sopping cunt.

He tsked, “So needy, drooling all around m’ fingers. Can’t imagine how messy you’ll be once I finally give you m’ cock,”

“Please Simon- oh fuck, please, need your cock,”

You can feel him smiling against your pussy, “Yeah? Silly little girl needs me so bad, don’tcha sweet’eart?”

You nodded, “Please,”

•••

You moved your hand to block the sun in your eyes, grumbling as you moved to sit up. It was then that you felt the arm wrapped around your waist, and last nights memories came flooding back in.

“That’s it, be a good girl and give me one more. I believe in you,”

“So fucked out a’ready? We’ve barely even started,”

And then the-

“Shh, shhh you were such a good girl fer me,”

“I know, I know. But I have to get up, love. Got to clean up the mess you made, then I’ll be back to hold you,”

You didn't think he would be the type to do aftercare, but he did, and he did it wonderfully.

You turned around to face him, and you were met with light blue eyes lazily gazing upon you. Your cheeks heated.

"Morning," you muttered bashfully, unsure of what else to say.

Simon hummed, "Mornin' to you too, lovie. Lucky for you, after last nights performance you sure past the bloody test," he winked, morning voice gravely. Oh boy, this was going to be fun.

taglist

@frogtowne @glossysoap

© xxshadowbabexx 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #call of duty x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty ghost #ghost mw2 #mw2 ghost #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost simon riley #simon riley call of duty

[skzimagines]

~ part 19 ~

—————————————————————————————

Characters: | Obsessive!Hyunjin | Lee know | Female Reader | All of Skz | y/n’s friend. |

Genre: | Polyamory!relationship |

Warnings: | 18+ Minors dni | Smut | swearing | alcohol | threesome activity | Trigger warning! Mentions of self harm and su!cide. PLEASE Do not read if you are triggered by these things.|

—————————————————————————————

It’s been three days… three days of not seeing or speaking to either of them. They’ve both called and texted, but you really don’t have the energy for any of it right now. You promised them both that you’d be in touch, but sleep hasn’t been apart of your schedule these past few nights. It’s crazy how quickly you get used to sleeping next to someone, but two people? It’s even more lonely when you’re by yourself. You had told Minho he had you all to himself before he left. But your mind still runs to hyunjin every other second of the day, even though you don’t want it to.

‘Maybe I should text Minho, tell him I’m okay.’ I think to myself. I grab my phone from the night stand and pull up Minhos name. A bunch of unread messages appear on my screen.

1:43pm

Minho🫶🏻: y/n please answer me. I’m worried about you.

3:27pm

Minho🫶🏻: you promised you’d talk to me. 😕

7:54pm

Minho🫶🏻: baby please, I’m begging you. Let me know you’re okay!

9:43pm

Y/n: hey.. I’m okay, just trying to wrap my head around things. I’m sorry I haven’t called or text.

9:43pm

Minho🫶🏻: oh baby, thank god! You can’t worry me like that. 😔

9:44pm

Y/n: I’m sorry 😔

9:45pm

Minho🫶🏻: It’s okay baby, you don’t have to be sorry. I know you’re going through a lot in that pretty head of yours. But I am always here to talk to if you need it. Don’t forget that. 😘

9:50pm

Y/n: Thank you min… it means a lot to me. I wish you could come here. 🥺

9:51pm

Minho🫶🏻: I mean… I can always come steal you for a few hours? 🫣

9:53pm

Y/n: you’d do that? 🥺

9:53pm

Minho🫶🏻: of course I would! I’d murder someone for you. 🔪

9:54pm

Y/n: okay woah sir, that’s a bit much lol

9:54pm

Minho🫶🏻: well I would. So now you know. 🤷🏻‍♂️ get ready baby, I’ll be there in an hour. I love you😘

•

Minho tells me he’ll be here in about 30 minutes or so, so I quickly get ready and sneak downstairs. I’m standing by the front door waiting for him to pull in when I hear a voice behind me. “Where are you going?” Ash asks. “Oh.. um, I-” I stutter, trying to come up with something in my head. But it was too late, Minho’s headlights flash through the windows as he pulls in. “Y/n…. It’s only been three days.” She sighs. “Ash, I know. But I need this. I need to see him.” I say. She shakes her head. “You have to quit putting yourself into these positions.” She says before heading upstairs. I let out a breath before making my way to Minhos car. He gets out of the car as I make my way towards him, he quickly engulfs me into a massive hug. “I miss you so much.” He whispers. I hum in agreement. “Let’s get out of here.” He says, pulling away and opening the car door for me.

•

“Have you talked to hyunjin?” It’s been a few hours since Minho’s picked me up. We’ve been at this park talking and holding one another, trying to make sense of everything, trying to make things okay again. “No, I haven’t,” I state. “You probably should” he says. I look at him confused. “What do you mean?” I ask. “Well, at the end of the day. He’s still one of my best friends. And I know he needs you just as much as I do.” He explains. “You said you wanted it to be just us…” I question. “I know. But him and I have talked and we-” he begins before i cut him off. “You’ve… talked?” I ask. Minho stays silent. “When did this happen?” I ask. “Yesterday…” he says. “I know what I said about him being an insatiable asshole, and all he ever does is bring you down. But, I think he’s actually trying to change this time. He told me he had counseling set up, he’s going to quit drinking. He said he loves you and misses you. He said he’d try to get ahold of you, but he doesn’t want to force anything.” He says.

And like the universe was sending messages through the three of us… my phone starts to ring. I tell Minho to hold on a second, searching through my bag for my phone. “It’s him.” I whisper, showing Minho my phone screen. He gives me a soft smile and nods, telling me to answer. “I’m gonna go to the car, give you some privacy.” He whispers, walking away.

I hit the green button on my phone and bring it to my ear.

“Hello.” I say softly.

“Y/n….” I hear him sniffle over the phone.

“Hey… are you okay?” I ask softly.

“Please…” he begs quietly.

“Jinnie… what’s wrong?” I say, beginning to panic.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” He sobs.

“Hyunjin! What is wrong!” I yell into the phone.

“I can’t do this without you…” he whispers.

“What did you do hyunjin?” I ask in a panic.

“Don’t be mad at me… please.” He begs.

“Where are you?” I ask. There’s silence. “Jinnie… please, tell me where you are.” I say.

“Home.” He whispers.

“I’ll be there soon, okay?” I say, but get nothing in response.

I quickly shove my phone in my bag and run to the car.

“Minho we need to go!” I yell.

“Wh-what’s going on?” He asks, shutting his door and starting the car.

“Hyunjin’s… now! Please hurry!” I yell.

Minho throws the car in reverse, squealing the tires as he pulls away. Thankfully Hyunjin’s house is only ten minutes from the park we were at. We arrive in 5. I quickly unbuckle and slam the door open, running up to his front door not caring to shut the car door. Not bothering knocking, I quickly open his door and run in. “Hyunjin!” I yell, but there’s nothing. “Jinnie.. where are you?” I yell. I run through his house searching through every room. Minho runs in behind me. “Upstairs bathroom.” He whispers, once he realizes I’ve looked everywhere downstairs. My heart sinks at his words. I quickly run upstairs, swinging the bathroom door open. Hyunjin’s laying on the floor, his eyes are closed. I look to the side of him and see a pill bottle laying next to him. “MINHO CALL 911!” I scream. I quickly drop down next to Hyunjin and pull him into my lap as best as I can. I shake him violently. “Hyunjin please!” I yell. “Come on please!” I say lightly slapping his cheek. I let out a sob. “You can’t leave me!” I shake him again. It seems like eternity before I hear sirens making their way down the road. “They’re upstairs!” I hear Minho yell.

—————————————————————————————

Tag list: @greysweaters-blog @mimihwang248 @armystay89 @berryberrytan @multeciahucho @poetrycassie @nobody3210 @straykids5star @mabysblog @yaorzu-blog @elizalabs3 @abby-wanna-bangchan @lyracarvahall @silencionyx

To be continued…

#stray kids #Skz #stray kids imagine #Bangchan #lee know #lee Minho #leeknowimagine #leeknowsmut #Changbin #seochangbin #hwanghyunjin #hyunjin #Hyunjin imagine #hyunjin smut #lee Felix #Felix #hanjisung #Han #jisung #kimseungmin #Seungmin #i.n #jeongin

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 3)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Just as Y/N thought she had it all figured out in LA, her world spins out of control when Evan Peters storms in like a tornado. Their electrifying hook-up leaves her reeling, but waking up alone, she fears the worst. Then, a note appears—his number and an invitation to a date teasing her with a chance. What starts as a romantic evening quickly spirals into a frenzy of hide-and-seek and sex.

Warnings ─ Swearing, semi-public, oral (both receiving), doggy, shower sex, overstimulation, fingering, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, extra smutty—you savvy pros, you know the game inside out ;)

Read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

Word count ─ 5K

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. please do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

You stir awake, blinking sleep away and squinting against the sunlight that streams through your curtains. A lazy smile curves your lips as you stretch, reaching out for...empty sheets. Mmhh, you just love the taste of nothing.

Evan’s not here... Emotional damage, even if what you had was an agreed one-off fling.

A soft groan escapes you as you fumble for your phone, the bright screen momentarily blinding you. 9:30. As you bury your nose into his pillowcase, you inhale deeply, catching a generous whiff of his essence’s sweet residue. Your eyes land on the bedside table. His missing keys solidify the reality that he’s bounced, and you can’t help but frown.

“I feel like his side hoe when I should be the main character,” you think aloud, grumbling, and it’s giving trauma dumping and anxious attachment. What a refreshing concoction of disaster.

But what really puzzles you is the extra blanket draped over your duvet like a surprise guest. You wrack your brain, trying to recall if you snuggled up in it during the night, but it’s as hazy as trying to piece together a fuzzy Freudian dream.

With a resigned sigh, you roll out of bed, already craving his warmth. Mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you distract yourself with social media updates, news snippets, and the day’s weather forecast while you shuffle to the kitchen for your morning caffeine fix. A pang of disappointment hangs around like a lost sock in the dryer, but you refuse to let it dim your day and activate your female rage.

Or so you tell yourself.

Podcast blaring in the background, you tiptoe your way to the bathroom, facing your reflection in the mirror. You impulsively retrace the invisible path of Evan’s touch on you—from lips to chin, jawline, and neck down your cleavage and stomach. Each sensation has left its mark, and you can’t get enough of the sweet echoes. You sniff through your hair and arms in a desperate attempt to capture his scent on you—a tantalising hint of cinnamon and the musk of his natural oils that never fails to make your knees go weak.

You hop into the shower, letting the scalding water wash away your frustrations. Emerging revitalised and ready to conquer the day, you hastily throw on your work clothes and toss your keys and lanyard into your bag.

And that’s when you spot it by the entrance door—the note board. That bold black marker circling today’s 9 pm to 6 am time slot on your shift calendar, an arrow pointing directly to a message, practically winking at you, “Dinner and quality time with Evan. Text this number for more details.” Your heart somersaults with joy as you read the note over and over again, a goofy grin spreading across your face like wildfire.

You press a quick kiss to the note, folding it carefully and tucking it away as if it holds all the secrets of the universe. With a sense of anticipation bubbling in your chest, you dash out the door, already fashionably late.

On the subway, you retrieve the scrap of paper, tracing your fingers over his elegant handwriting with a soft smile. With a sarcastic tonality, you already craft your message, “I thought ghosts just floated around, they don’t ask you out.”

Within seconds, his response lights up your screen. “Morning to you too. Slept well? I’m the upgraded phantom version. Meet your Casper tonight at 9?”

You can’t help but giggle at his wit. Another text pops up, complete with coordinates to the restaurant he’s inviting you. The excitement builds inside you like a shaken soda bottle, and you’re practically fizzing with anticipation to see what the night has in store.

Time seems to trudge along at a sloth’s pace as you grind through your shift at the boutique. You flash your best retail smile as you serve customers on the cash register. Though, your mind is a million miles away, replaying the reel of moments with Evan; those moments when you convinced yourself that your insides were gonna spill out while he was going to town on you.

Half-heartedly, you tidy up the shop floor, picking up stray items and straightening displays. But let’s be real, your fingers move mechanically, and your brain is on autopilot as your thoughts wander back to the anticipation of tonight’s date. The enthusiasm is buzzing through you like a sugar rush, making it damn near impossible to focus on folding clothes or rearranging racks.

Each interaction with a customer is a blur as you absentmindedly tackle the fitting room. They might as well be talking to a mannequin for all you care. Your mind is firmly planted in Evan-land, where every moment is hot and heavy, and you’re too busy mentally undressing him for the umpteenth time.

“Girl, let me in your bubble, would you?” The voice of Trisha, your department’s jokester, slices through your daydreaming like a ninja with a chainsaw.

You blink, momentarily disoriented, before bursting into laughter at her impeccable timing. “Trish!” you exclaim, relishing in her knack to crack you up with her quirky humour. “Sorry, this bubble is strictly reserved for someone today.”

Her giggle rings out like music in the store as she playfully rolls her eyes. “Fine, fine! You do you, boo. Just make sure to save some of that magic for the rest of us in Stylista Gine, deal?”

With a saucy wink, she sashays off to attend to her own tasks, leaving you to shake off your giggles. The minutes tick by, and eventually, your shift mercifully comes to an end. With a sigh of relief and a bounce in your step, you clock out, knowing that soon you’ll be back in Evan’s arms (and on his dick).

You hastily trod along Sunset Boulevard, your sleek dark coat swinging with each step, and your little black dress add an extra sway to your stride. You’re practically power-walking in heels, like you’re in a race against time and your destination is the finish line.

Arriving at the hotel he’s staying at, you adjust the strap of your black stilettos around your ankle, ensuring no wardrobe malfunctions with your stocking will disrupt your night. With your heart thudding, you breeze through the sliding doors and past the reception. 

The tantalising scent of watermelon cocktail teases your senses as you strut in the bar restaurant, scoping out the room with mounting anticipation.

“Hi there, reservation for Peters?” you inquire, shooting a charming smile at the host, your racing emotions briefly receding.

Reciprocating with a polite grin, he quickly checks his tablet before nodding in confirmation. “Got it! Table 8. Right this way, miss,” he affirms, extending his arm in a welcoming gesture. 

Following the host, you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement as you round the corner and spot Evan’s back at the table. He looks effortlessly handsome in his blazer, like he’s just stepped out of a magazine spread, making your stomach churn with blissful nerves.

“Looks like my date’s here, thanks,” you note quietly with a soft smile.

“Awesome! Enjoy,” the host replies cheerfully, heading back to his post.

As you approach Evan, you lean in and give his shoulder a cheeky squeeze—a silent yet affectionate greeting that speaks volume. His gaze lights up with recognition, and he practically jumps from his chair, his grin widening as he’s eyeing you from top to bottom.

“Hey!” he exclaims, his voice laced with enthusiasm. “My eyes needed a bit of a warning for this stunner. Your fit’s so sleek, it looks tailor-made,” he adds shortly after, beaming, as you flow in a warm hug, his arms clinging around you like he never wants to let go.

With a crooked smirk, you blurt out with a touch of sarcasm, “Thanks. I picked it up with you in mind.”

His eyes widen in surprise, his grin expanding by the second. “Seriously?” he squeaks, visually delighted by the notion. 

You giggle, shaking your head. “Nah, but imagine if I did,” you fire back, your hearty laughter dancing in the air like confetti.

Before you know it, an electric tension fills the space between you as you stand mere inches apart, locked in a silent yet smouldering gaze.

“Are we on a ‘try not to kiss’ challenge?” he spills out, his voice an alluring murmur as his minty breath pleasantly prickles your skin.

A sly smile tugs at your lips. “Let’s see who caves and closes the gap first,” you hum as you flicker between his lips and his eyes. He feels the tension coil in his gut but forces it down with a hard gulp. 

Leaning in closer, his breath mingles with yours as he whispers, “You gotta give your best shot not to kiss me, then,” his tone carrying a seductive undertone that sends a delicious thrill rushing through you.

“You wish. No chance I’m smudging my tinted lip balm,” you retort and playfully pinch his nose, punctuating your mocking banter with a wink.

With a graceful flip of your hair and a coy smile, you ease into your chair, feeling the heat of his gaze on you, all self-assured about the sensual spell you’ve cast over him. 

He’s practically eye-fucking you right now, and you’re loving it.

“If that’s your idea of payback for sneaking out this morning, Y/N, I’ve been running errands and exploring new job prospects for next year,” he explains earnestly, handing you a straw for your cocktail and cutlery for your appetisers.

“And I may or may not have picked up a little something for you,” he announces next, pulling out a wrapped box from his blazer pocket, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

Your playful vibe evaporates, replaced by a whirlwind of shock and emotion. “Shut the…front door, no way,” you utter sheepishly as you cautiously reach for the unexpected gift.

With a throaty chuckle at your reaction, he jerks his eyebrows upwards, silently encouraging you to dive into the gift.

You eagerly rip open the packaging, gasping in disbelief. “Roland Barthes, Mythologies…Oh my days,” you cry out, unable to believe your luck. Your eyes flit to the curious glances from other patrons in the corner, and you swiftly tone your enthusiasm down a notch.

He nods in understanding, smiling fondly at you. “Yep, saw his Lover’s Discourse on your bedside table, and the bookmark was dangling on the final pages,” he justifies, a knowing twinkle in his gaze.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you slide the book in your bag and rise from your seat. “Ugh, Evan! Thanks a ton, you’re the best,” you gush, your voice thick with gratitude as you move closer to him.

He stands up too, his eyes fixed on yours, soft with affection. Stepping closer, his dark eyes dart from your lips to your eyes, as if he’s wordlessly asking for permission. Instead, he reaches out to pull you into a hug, but you gently lift his chin and crane your neck, sealing his plush, pink lips in a brief yet tender peck.

As you break the kiss, Evan blinks in surprise, seemingly caught off guard by the sudden shift in energy. His eyes search yours, silently questioning the unspoken feelings that hover between you, his own heart pounding with anticipation.

“Why did that take so long today?” he sighs against your ear, softly touching his lips. His voice, like honey dripping from velvet, resounds in your ears like a melody as he delicately brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes—the colour of rich black chocolate—are glued on yours, and the gravitational pull of his euphoric visual abyss draws you in.

Your heart flutters at the intensity of his gaze, feeling the heat expand through you. “It took long for momentum,” you retort, your tone light with playful teasing as you flash him a coy smile and sit back down.

The buffalo cauliflower bites aren’t the only thing heating up at your table; your conversation’s spicier than a jalapeño popper and with more layers than a double-decker with extra cheese. One minute you’re debating the perfect burrito toppings, embarrassing childhood nicknames, weird dreams, European cinema and 80s bands, and the next, you’re digging into careers, beliefs, goals, and life’s deepest truths.

It’s like a game of emotional Jenga—one block, or in this case, one topic leads to another, and before you could utter ‘Evan, eat me,’ you’ve both laid your souls bare without even realising it.

Fully immersed in the flirtatious banter, Evan beckons invitingly to the seat beside him with a subtle tilt of his head. “Why don’t you slide here, so I can properly admire your outfit?” he mumbles in a husky timbre, his eyes ablaze with desire.

But just as the tension between you ignites like a volcano lava, the waiter interrupts with his timely arrival. “What can I get for you both?” he interjects, shattering the moment. 

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you gesture Evan to go first, shooting him a ‘hold up, let me cook,’ look. With a bold move, you slip off your shoe under the table and discreetly brush your foot against his pant leg.

You feel him stiffen as he places his order, his composure wearing out. Stifling a giggle, you almost sadistically enjoy his flustered state as he clumsily fumbles and drops his menu, the clatter against the plate resonating like a thunderbolt. 

He’s a ten, but he stumbles over his words and over-apologises when aroused in the most inappropriate settings. Take my money, that bumps him up to a solid thirty.  

“Would you like extra cheese with that?” the waiter chimes in, oblivious to the charged atmosphere crackling between you.

Evan nods, swallowing thickly as your foot ventures higher up his thigh, stoking the flames of his growing hardness.

“And you, miss?”

“Eh? Umm, double everything, please. I’ll have what he’s having. Thanks,” you mutter with a half smile, your leg rubbing against his throbbing erection to a fever pitch.

As the waiter marches to the kitchen, Evan clenches his jaw, frustration painted all over his stormy gaze. He bunches his cloth napkin from his lap and tosses it onto his plate, blowing out a sharp, exasperated breath.

“Evan,” you call out with an apologetic expression, watching him push his chair with the backs of his knees and storm off to the bathroom.

You shoulder the heavy door and step into the empty men’s bathroom, your insides wounding themselves in knots. You scan the room, hunting for any trace of Evan, until your gaze lands on the locked door at the end. Curiosity gnaws at you, nudging you to investigate.

With a hesitant knock, you signal your presence. Before you can react, the door swings open, and Evan’s dark eyes greet you from the other side as he pulls you into the room.

The door clicks shut behind you as you quickly take in the gold-hued surroundings: a lavish toilet, a gleaming sink, and a long bench strewn with plush towels and designer toiletries. The place gives you a babushka-esque feel—a mini, fully-equipped restroom within the main one, and it’s like stepping into a VIP sanctuary.

Though, as you register Evan’s proximity, his body pressed flush against yours, your thoughts scatter like marbles on a polished floor, and pleasure sparks sizzle through your veins like a live wire.

“Hey,” you bleat, feeling the tension twist in your gut as you swallow hard, trying to steady yourself. 

His strong arms cradle your waist. He draws you into a tight embrace until you’re cocooned on his lap, the heat of his body searing into your skin.

You cross your legs as he closes the distance between you, his veiny hands fondling and squeezing your thighs greedily and possessively. 

“Evan,” you croak out, clearing your throat to ground yourself as he strokes your cheek with his knuckle. “I realise that might have been a bit much for public display…and I’m sorry,” you mumble, flashing him an apologetic look before averting your gaze.

But his expression remains stern, a furrow creasing his brow as he lets out an exaggerated huff—eyes hooded and mouth set in a grim line. “That won’t fix it, I’m afraid. I’m still hurt and embarrassed.” 

You quirk a brow at him, a hint of defiance in your gaze as you meet his unwavering stare. “And what do you suggest now?” you challenge with a sly smirk, a daring spark igniting in your face.

His lips curl into a sinister smile as he leans in, his scorching breath against your ear sending a tremor down your backbone. “Get on your knees, and use this beautiful mouth of yours to show me just how sorry you are,” he whispers as he’s massaging your tits, his words like an electric current buzzing through you at a high voltage.

You snort, your hand weaving through his silky hair as you draw him closer. “Oh, you think you’ve won? I’d be more than happy to suck you up—day and night, overtime included,” you purr, your voice husky with longing as you sink to your knees.

Positioned between his legs, you look up at him with a mischievous smile. “Someone’s suffering in there,” you coo and outline his stiff shaft with your tongue, feeling him twitch beneath the smooth fabric, aching for freedom.

Pinned against the wall, he sucks in a breath through gritted teeth, his hips buckling forward in desperate response.

The button of his slacks loosely holds on, barely containing his throbbing beast from bursting it open. Gripping the cold metal of his zipper between your teeth, you drag it down slowly, your pussy dripping as his low growl rumbles from his chest like distant thunder when he finally finds release.

You reach up, flipping down the elastic waistband of his boxers so you can slip your hand in, dragging your fingers along his pulsing crimson tip.

“Suck it, don’t tease,” he commands, his tone rigid and thick with desire. You comply without hesitation, eagerly licking off the subtle traces of his seed off the tip, twirling your tongue around it.

Your mouth is immediately slick with his precum, the thick fluid coating the corners of your lips. The heady scent drives you wild as you savour every drop of his essence. You keep using your tongue to smear some of it to the underside of the head, teasing at the ridges and pressing into the squishy flesh of his head.

He bites down on his lips, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he battles to muffle his grunts, his body quivering with need.  

When you finally close your lips around his painfully hard cock, he reacts with a sharp intake of breath. His fingers thread through your hair as he breathlessly whines your name like a fervent prayer. From that angle, his dimples appear as dark slits along his cheeks, adding to his rugged allure.

You meet his gaze with a sultry mewl of pleasure, giving your throat more room to take him in harder and deeper into your mouth. Flattening your tongue, you glide lower on him as you hold onto his pelvis until his head crushes the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex.

Challenge accepted; you handle him like a pro.

“Y/N, you’re… oh, fuck… No,” he sputters out with an intense shudder, rubbing his eyes as he fights the overwhelming tide of his impending orgasm.

“Load me,” you exhale teasingly as you pull him out of your mouth only to pump him back down with renewed hunger. He intertwines his fingers with yours, guiding your movements as you kick off a slow, torturous rhythmic ordeal just to gauge his reaction.

With a choked moan, he tightens his grip, sticking his convulsing cock all the way down with urgency, thrusting in your mouth with a ruthless pace.

His move and the resonance of his deep voice send a surge of heat to your core that consumes you, tripling the moisture in your panties.

You want him in ways that will add new sins to the bible.

Each time you rise, you suck his tip with fervour before slamming back down on his throbbing length. The symphony of moans he’s emitting are almost sinful—you’ve never gotten soaking wet just from hearing a man groan. He’s gonna be the death of your ovaries.

As you steal a gaze upwards, his abs glistening with a sheen of sweat, you watch his head fall back. “No,” he breathes out repetitively, his chest heaving and his Adam’s apple bobbing—a tell-tale sign that he’s on the brink of letting his load spray onto anything in the room.

His balls tighten, cock pulsing as his thrusts into your mouth turn sloppy and messy. Blinded by pleasure, his mind goes blank as he teeters on the edge.

Still panting, he hauls you off him more forcefully, his fingers hooking onto the hem of your stockings. You notice his nose scrunch up in clear disapproval as he glares at your lips—swollen and shining with wetness—immediately stripping you off your undergarments with raw intensity.

Flipping you over so your upper body’s bent over the wooden bench, he gropes your ass cheek before slapping it harshly, making you squeal with excitement. “Why do I have to say no twice?” he growls, his voice ringing with dominance as he claims you as his own.

You’re ovulating, so your audacity and inhibitions are thrown to the wind, acting like you’ve been dick-deprived your entire life. “I wanna tick you off so much you show no mercy. Just take me already,” you demand, your voice heavy with despair.

With a guttural groan, he obliges, rutting his hips as he lines up his leaking tip with your entrance. The moment he meets your wet folds, you both gasp in unison as he plunges in you. The sensation of him filling you up sparks fireworks as he humps you in long, steady thrusts, his velvet plush head bumping against your swollen clit with a delicious friction.

Your cries threaten to spill out, but his hand clamps gently over your mouth to shush you, his dark eyes flashing with warning. “We have to be quiet, baby,” he rasps, his voice tinged with lust. You turn over your shoulder and nod underneath his grasp, your half-lidded eyes glazing with pleasure.

A muffled yelp roars against his palm as he drills his aching cock deeper inside of you. You grip the edge of the bench tightly, and the sound of it banging against the wall echoes through the room, adding a primal rhythm to your ecstasy. The sensation of your slithery walls stretching to accommodate his thick dick is nothing short of mind-blowing for both of you.

Using the bench for leverage, he thrusts harder, his hand trailing up to caress the curve of your ribs as you writhe beneath him. “Fuck, I love your wet little pussy,” he hisses with primitive desire. “Cum for me, Y/N, all over my dick.”

“I’m getting there, baby. I wanna drown in your juices,” you moan, feeling his jaw slacken against your back as your walls pulse around his throbbing cock.

Just as the bench keeps bashing against the concrete wall in sync with your rising orgasms, a sudden crash breaks the intensity of the moment. The yellow paint plastic box from above the shelf tumbles down—its contents splattering over both of you and the wall, creating an impromptu abstract masterpiece in the spur of the moment.

You both freeze, paint trickling down your bodies, adding vibrant hues to your flushed skin. Evan blinks in surprise, his hands still gripping your hips as he takes in the colourful chaos engulfing you.

“Well, we certainly went hard on the paint,” he quips, trying to lighten the mood despite the unexpected interruption.

You chuckle nervously as you survey the lively mess. “Looks like we got more than we bargained for tonight,” you shoot back, your voice filled with playful mischief.

With a wicked smirk, Evan swipes paint off your cheek, leaving a colourful streak between you two as you embrace. “We’ve got a cleanup on our hands before we can get back to what we—” His words are abruptly cut off by approaching footsteps.

Though the intoxicating passion still clouds your mind, one detail arises with sobering clarity: You’re screwed (literally). 

“You hit it off with the first three cubicles, I’ll handle the ones from the end, and we’ll meet in the middle,” a deep man’s voice echoes from outside, sending a jolt of panic through both of you. 

Evan winces and involuntarily grabs your hand. Your body stiffens as you lace your clammy fingers with his, the paint already forming a small puddle at your feet.

Acting on pure instinct, he ushers you deeper into the toilet, using his foot to discreetly slide the torn condom wrapper closer to your hiding spot.

“What’s the plan now?” you mouth. Your palms are raised in a questioning gesture, fingers wiggling subtly, as your breath comes in shallow, shaky huffs.

Evan shrugs. “That was a plot twist, didn’t see it coming,” he replies, barely audible in his hushed response.

You hang onto his shirt for dear life, your face taking a ghost-like pale complexion as you weigh the consequences of the trouble you’re about to get in. “The door’s locked, but there’s a little slot under it. Shall I wait up here until they’re gone?” you pantomime your words, attempting to convey your plan to Evan with the finesse of a silent movie star. But as you try to hoist yourself up and chamber onto the toilet seat, you slip, almost tumbling backward.

Evan swoops in to catch you like a superhero, his forehead wrinkled by worry lines, eyes wide with alarm. “You good?” he whispers urgently, pressing a finger to his lips in a frantic plea for silence.

You nod vigorously, gesturing toward the door with exaggerated motions, communicating your escape plan like you’re on the charades: “Let’s go check if we’re clear, then sneak out.”

Nodding in silent agreement, he unlocks the door with a flick of his wrist. Poking his head out, he peers cautiously into the corridor. You stretch up on your tiptoes, craning your neck to peek out over his shoulder, scanning the corridor for any sign of movement.

Finding no one in sight, you both spring into action with the speed and stealth of seasoned spies. You snatch up as much toilet roll as you can, using it to hastily wipe away the evidence of your paint mishap. The paper becomes saturated with soap and water as you scrub your life away, determined to leave no trace behind.

Before you know it, Evan seizes your hand, purse and shoes, and you skitter out of the bathroom like you’re escaping a high-security prison. You zip past the slightly open doors of the other stalls, and as you weave the maze of hallways, you catch a glimpse of the two cleaning men hard at work—one wielding a toilet spray like a weapon on the lead, while the other, two doors ahead, diligently mops the floor.

 

You burst out of the bathroom, hearts racing and adrenaline pumping, feeling like you just pulled off the heist of the century. In the dimly lit corridor between the toilets and the restaurant, you exchange triumphant grins, basking in the rush of your daring gateway. With a quick, victorious high five, you’re both ready for the next phase of your adventure.

But before you can catch your breath, Evan pulls you close, his lips crashing against yours in a fiery kiss that sets you on fire. His tongue dances with yours, igniting a fierce passion between you. As his hands start to wander along your ass and clit, you can’t resist and melt into his touch, a soft moan slipping off you.

Reality hits you like a freight train, and you protest against his lips, reluctantly swatting his hands away and pushing him back gently. “You can’t waltz back to your table looking like nuggets dipped in mayo, and I don’t have a spare wardrobe stashed in my purse,” you whine. With a determined swipe, you rub off a scuff mark from his cheek, your thumb tracing the contours of his face as he nods in understanding.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, and without missing a beat, he takes your hand and leads you in the direction of the toilet. But as you reach the door, he steers you towards the emergency door instead. Throwing yourselves outside, you’re met with the frigid night air, an uninviting shock after the warmth of the restaurant.

The cold bites at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arms. But Evan is quick to replace your coat, which still hangs off your table chair, and envelops you in an embrace, rubbing your arms to warm you up.

You cling to him, his body heat a comforting embrace as he cups your hands in his, blowing warm breath into them. The moon casts a soft glow over a secluded pond before you, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the hotel.

“I’ve got good and bad news,” Evan chirps, his voice tinged with a mischievous undertone. You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as you lean closer to him, flakes of paint dropping off your arms as he intensifies his rubbing.

“Spill the good news first. Enough shocks for today, I wanna buy myself some time.” 

“The good news is,” he begins, a grin spreading across his face, “my rented place is over there,” he reveals and points behind you. You follow his gaze to the tall complex of flats that extend from the main hotel.

You hum in acknowledgment, planting a quick peck on his lips. “Alright… and what’s the bad news?” you inquire, already bracing yourself for whatever curveball he’s about to throw your way.

“The bad news is that if we wanna keep the prying eyes at bay,” he continues, his eyes fixed on you in mounting suspense, “we’ve got some climbing to do.”

The grass crunches under your feet as you wade through the greenery, your heels sinking into the mud with each step. You duck under the low archway in the middle and reach the towering fence.

“Damn, that’s taller than I thought,” he mutters, eyeing the fence with a furrowed brow.

“Piece of cake,” you counter with a coy smile, tossing your heels on the other end. You make the first move by planting your toes on a cracked piece in the wall, gripping the hurdle tightly to propel yourself upwards.

As he gives you an extra push, his hands boldly grazing your ass, a mischievous sparkle gleams in his eyes. “Speaking of cakes,” he cheers, squeezing your curves as his eyes linger on the enticing view of your cunt beneath your dress, his grin broad and cocky.

“Stay focused, dude,” you hiss, playfully waving him away as you divert your attention back to the task at hand.

With a hint of concern in his voice, Evan watches you climb, ready to catch you if you falter. “Take it slow, Y/N. With this velocity, you gotta use one leg at a time...” he advises, his arms poised to assist you.

Rolling your eyes, you brush off his instruction. “The mansplaining’s redundant, Peters. I’ve got this,” you scold jokingly, confidently manoeuvring over the obstacles.

“It’s hard... oh, mind your head on the branches…” he mumbles, absentmindedly repeating “it’s hard” as he observes your every move with a mix of awe and disbelief.

When you safely tumble over to the other side, he can’t help but chuckle nervously, astonished by your agility. “Oh, that was easy…it was really easy, actually” he mumbles with a shake of his head, mouth agape, still processing your swift ascent.

“Come on, slowpoke,” you taunt, your voice laced with playful challenge. You dust off your hands, the thrill of the escape still coursing through your veins.

“I’m just taking my time,” he defends as he carefully navigates his way over the fence. 

“Says the guy who played Quicksilver,” you mock, giggling, and run your tongue along your teeth with a cheeky smile.

As Evan finally makes it over the fence, he stumbles on a loose stone, his footing giving way beneath him. You gasp, lunging forward to catch him as he starts to fall backward, his arms flailing wildly as he tries to regain his balance.

“Watch out!” you cry out, and you manage to pull him back from the brink of spraining his ankle on the way down. 

He winces in pain, clutching his leg as he tries to stand. “Ouch, that was close,” he groans, his breath hitched. 

Concern floods through you as you help him to his feet, supporting him as he tests his injured ankle. “You okay?” you ask, worry evident in your voice.

Evan nods, his expression strained. “I think so,” he replies, clenching his jaw against the discomfort.

You sigh, realising that your adventure may have taken an unexpected turn. “Maybe we should take it easy for now, old man,” you suggest once you realise he’s fine, suppressing a laugh as you guide him back to safety.

As you playfully rib Evan with the “old man” label, he retaliates by tickling you, his fingers sending ripples of loud laughter down your spine. You squirm and wriggle, trying to escape his teasing grasp, but he’s relentless.

“Alright, alright, I give up!” you yell, breathless from both laughter and excitement. But Evan doesn’t stop there. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he picks you up into his arms, his lips hammering against yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue swirling with yours. 

“Let me show you who’s the old man,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice dripping with desire and challenge as he carries you off.

The reception area lies deserted, and the dull glow of an overhead light seeps through the crack at the bottom of the slightly ajar cleaning storage door. 

“Anyone here?” he calls out, testingly, but there’s no response. Without wasting any time, you make a beeline for the elevator. The ding of the lift makes you jump, you launch your bodies up the stairs, bounding them up like a panther on the prowl, your feet padding down on the carpeted floor.

You creep into his room, edging the door shut until the latch clicks into place, and you pause to laugh at the yellow patches on your body. “I feel like I’ve just wrestled a pig in a mud pit.” 

“I’ve got the best way to clean it all up?” he mumbles sloppily into your lips, his arms folded around your waist, massaging your ass.

Hot water spurts out of the shower faucet, raining down marvellously on the tiled floor. You smile, holding your hand up to it and watching the paint, mostly dried now, run off your legs before landing on the ground and swirling around the drain. The temperature is heavenly, able to ease even the deepest aching of your shoulders, and your smile widens.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, planting a few teasing kisses along your exposed collarbone.

You bite down your lip at the sensation. “Finger-fuck while you kiss me, first. I need it,” you huff in despair, eyes imploring.

“You wish, I deliver, baby,” he breathes out, suckling on your pulse as you lightly pump his erect shaft in your hand in your fluid motion. He seems way too horny and too into you to say no.

He grunts and grounds his hips against your inner thigh. Against the wall, his fingers dip in, gathering some of your warm, slithery wetness and splotching it over your shiny folds. His free hand claws on your face, dragging you for a breathless kiss.

“Gosh,” you moan chokingly, an exhilarating lilt in your words. Your back arches as you feel that knot in your stomach beginning to snap. The pad of his middle finger keeps tapping and circling your clit, and you feel the escalating climb of your orgasm. Your legs start to twitch, and once he realises this, his fingers slowly drift away from your weeping cunt, his slick fingers gripping your thigh.

“Wh-why?” you protest in frustration.

Without uttering a single syllable, he snatches the detachable shower head, a smirk playing on his lips as he winds the cable around his wrist. He cranks the setting to its highest level and kneels down, parting your slopping folds with a confident touch. His lips curve in a devilish smile as he takes sight of your pulsating pussy clenching around nothing, giggling as he realises he’s edged you so badly.

As he positions the shower head near your throbbing clit, you instinctively clamp your hand over your mouth, stifling the shrill whimper that threatens to escape. The sensation of the water hitting your sensitive bud forces your breath out in punchy, laboured gasps as you feel the vibrations bringing your high closer.

He laps at your cunt like it’s a melting ice cream cone, and it doesn’t take long for your sweet cream to leak out along his mouth. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyelids fluttering as you’re consumed by the tsunami of your looming orgasm. Each flick of his tongue sends tremors through your thighs, the wet, slick sounds filling the room.

His tongue flattens out against your clit and you let out a needy whine, your hips instinctively bucking against his mouth. He presses his face deeper into your wet folds, tongue jerking at the underside of your clit. As he licks at your entrance, he sinks his tongue into your soaking hole, you cum on his tongue, grinding his face, moaning your name in heavy, ragged pants.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you, he stands up straight, his hands gently caressing your waistband in a soothing gesture. But you’re not done yet. With a hungry urgency, you pull him into a kiss, your lips melding together.

He backs you against the wall, hiking up your thighs and wrapping them tightly around his waist. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, guiding him to your dripping entrance. As he slams into you, the world around you fades away, and your head lolls back in ecstasy.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he grunts as he pounds harsher and faster in you, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks.

Your slick is trickling down his cock, creating a slippery mess on his thighs as he drives into you relentlessly. His breathing picks up pace, the air thick with the heady scent of sex and steam. You almost had him, until his hands forces your hips down onto his cock as far as they would go, his tip nudging against your cervix.

A scream tears from your lips as you squirm against his ruthless assault and bruising force. The tip of his cock brushes against that spongy spot inside you time and time again, the lewd squelching sounds of your poor, swollen cunt only a faint indicator that you were close.

In the misty haze of the shower, you catch him smirk crookedly, pleased with the visual above him. Your tits bounce tantalisingly in front of him, a tempting feast he can’t resist as he reaches out to grab them in his mouth, eager to taste every inch of your trembling body.

As the unbearably tight, hot coil in your abdomen snaps, you’re unable to contain the set of moans that spill from your lips. A tingling heat spreads across your body, your muscles contracting and burning with the intensity of your release.

His face contorts in pleasure, his brows knitting together as his jaw drops in awe. His breaths come out in hurried, choppy huffs as he pumps inside you, warm, white strings of cum painting your walls as if he marks his territory and you as his own.

“Ugh, I’m dizzy...and l look like shit,” you huff out, your voice laced with giggles. Evan stays still for a moment, burying his face into the crook of you neck.

“You’re dizzy but beautiful,” he rasps, chuckling breathlessly, and you feel your cheeks flushing. He strokes your face, his touch tender and loving as he presses soft kisses against your lips. Your tongues dance together in a sweet and intimate exchange as soft moans escape both of you.

Slowly, he pulls out. A mix of your juices coats his tip as it drips from your hole in a seductive display of your shared ecstasy.

“I want cuddles on the bed now,” he says, his voice soft and pleading, a hint of a pout playing on his lips as he gazes at you with adoration.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. please do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

#evan peters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters fandom #evan peters fluff #evan peters imagine #ahs murder house #evan peters smut #ahs fandom #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you #evan peters x female reader #tate langdon #ahs cult #kit walker imagine #kit walker #kai anderson imagine #kai anderson #kai anderson smut #fanfic #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #warren lipka #kit walker x y/n #peter maximoff #colin zabel #evan peters dahmer #smut #stan bowes

[melodic-haze]

you’re cooking so hard w those fics,,, may I request some sub clorinde?

one of the scenarios in the fic can be where she wears a vibrator on her shift 🙏 (semi-public ofc)

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Clorinde x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: semi-public 🫶, use of toys (the vibe's silly and magical bc this is a magical world and I can do what I want), consensual sexual corruption

☆ — NOTES: Why is this so long anyway DUDE THANK YOU 🙏🙏🙏🙏 I try my best to hashtag serve the cuntry. I somehow brought Navia into it as well I hope you don't mind 😭😭😭 NOT in the pair though, just like a chunk of the post ig

Ohhh my god Clorinde looks SOOOO fun to toy with 🫶🫶🫶 your MIND anon

She takes her job so seriously but when she's off the clock she's so silly she's so unserious like just LOOK at her with Navia???? I love her

I think you two joke around when it's just the two of you in the comfort of your own home when the whole matter pops up. Maybe she's like prepping dinner for the two of you (if you can cook as well you probably have a rotation) as it happens

It was therapeutic, watching Clorinde practically glide around the kitchen in such an organised manner. She often said that her skills as the Champion Duelist and her skills as a home chef were synonymous together in multiple ways, though despite her meaning it as a jest her proficiency with both activities was undoubtedly unmatched. She said you were a bit biased too, but you paid no heed.

"..You look so much more relaxed here, compared to when you're out for work," you muse as you observed her.

To which she looks up at you momentarily before looking back down at the vegetables she was chopping up, her speed and efficiency not slipping up in any way despite the light distraction, "A guard cannot necessarily be seen as.. well, whimsical in order to be taken seriously."

"Yeah, but you're THE Champion Duelist. Surely that allows you some form of leeway towards having to act all serious every time."

"I'm afraid not, mon ange." She shakes her head with a small smile, "What brought this up all of a sudden?"

You shrugged, "I dunno. I guess whenever I see you around, I always see you so.. focused and stoic."

"You mean to say I'm boring when we are outside?"

"You aren't? But you could do with some loosening up."

She looks up again with an amused eyebrow raise, "Between the two of us, my body is much more limber compared to yours."

"You ass!" You scoffed, crossing your arms in mock annoyance, "Go back to cutting carrots instead of taking potshots at me."

"Taking shots is my specialty, though? And I was already done with the task."

"Clorinde!"

The electro wielder chuckled lightly before moving to pour the vegetable mix into the pan, "Still, I fail to see your point."

"My point is," you push yourself off the wall you had been leaning on and move closer to your girlfriend, "I wanna see you all cute during your job at least once."

"Am I not 'cute' enough for you?"

"You are! But I feel like I should be intimidated too. Because, you know, I don't really want to be put in the spotlight for some kinda crime."

"Uh huh. Say I do agree with you then; what do you propose I do?" She is genuinely curious at first, but when she sees you smile the way you do that's when she gets suspicious, "..I know that look, mon cœur. You want to do something risqué."

You hum as if pondering your next response while your arms wrap around her waist, though with the way she turns around with a knowing look and a swift move of turning the stove strength all the way down, you know that she doesn't believe that innocent bout of 'thinking' one bit.

"Do I? You really think so?"

"I know so." And she leans to kiss your cheek, "My skills in observation combined with my knowledge of your every habit isn't useless, you know.

"Hmm... Well, then." Your fingers snuck underneath the fabric of her shirt and traced nonsensical shapes on her skin as you spoke, "I did find something—an item—that could help you.. de-stress during work."

You know she took the hint when you looked her vibrant purple eyes. Perhaps you could've sworn them glow like the element she has command over.

But when she asks you of it—

"And what may this.. item be?"

—you both know full well that that is the only thing she has control over when you're involved.

When she finds out that you want to stuff a vibrator in her for the whole day as she works, she has to give herself time to process it. Like, really? While she's supposed to stay vigilant in case something wrong happens??? Like be serious wth is she gonna do when she's all dumb and distracted and something goes awfully wrong??????

All you say is that while you'd wanna try it out to see what happens, you won't force her to do so.........and against her better judgement, she takes it back. Not only does she want to make you happy and that she wants to prove that she isn't a coward, she.. is a little (a lot) interested in what may happen. Plus "it will prove to be somewhat of a fun challenge", she says, which yk whatever works for her

She learns to regret that come (lmao) the next day when it's actually put into practice

You found this specific vibe from a wandering seller, you see. Powered by a mix of different elements and with the usage of their reactions, it came in a pair—one that was now deep inside her and the other in your pocket, ready for you to hold onto and simply think on the intensity of the bullet's vibrations and effects

Its control range was rather far too, so it's not as if you even had to be in the city to control it. You wanted to see how she deals with such a situation though, so the most you do is carry on with your day instead of constantly following her around (but you do bump into her 'on accident' quite a few times though)

At first it starts out relatively fine for her. It's a manageable feeling, with it interchanging between a weak pace to something slightly faster—she can ignore it with her masterful discipline. Hell, she's even thinking that you might actually be taking it easy on her bc of her earlier concerns which.. how nice of you!!!

Except she's WRONG❗️❗️❗️ You're not being nice, you're biding your time. She probably should've been suspicious but she trusted you unconditionally which would be so cute and flattering at any other moment.........but right now it was so deliciously naive of her, to just let her guard down with you like that

You're slowly but surely testing the waters by playing with the intensity beyond its lowest settings; having it slowly incline nd decline, making it spike up, even manipulating the pattern of its vibrations within your mind. And you can tell that every mental command is successfully transferred when the gem you hold pulses with a faint feeling of warmth that passes after a very brief moment

You can't see her half the time whenever you're off doing something else but maybe that's what makes it better, especially when you see her and you make a point to keep out of her line of sight. She looks around for you like a frazzled animal that's trying to seem composed and yet you know she's becoming anything but from the way she subtly jolts to attention every time you change the vibe's directions, all endearingly paranoid over what you do next as you change the settings again and again and again

Despite the risk and the paranoia and everything though? As much as she wants to deny it, there is an ever increasing pool of arousal in her panties. It's not just from the vibrator, however—it's from the possible risk of getting caught partaking in the sinful act of walking around with a sex toy stuffed inside of her. She can't believe it, but the thrill of the risk and the overthinking is definitely not doing her any favours in terms of trying to keep calm

It's when she has a certain exchange that has her ABSOLUTELY ruined. She had spotted Navia during one of her breaks the same time that the other had clocked onto her too. The head of the Spina di Rosula walked up to her with a smile and a friendly greeting and in no time at all, they get to talking the minutes away

Catching up to Navia again without such dreadful tension from before was definitely a relief. It was as if they had chatted about everything and nothing at all at the same time, with the both of them laughing lightly. The exchange was certainly a welcome distraction, both from her job and the bullet-shaped vibrator that hit and teased her sensitive spots every now and again—you had definitely become braver as time went on, but you weren't going to break her composure just yet.

..Or well, really, she realised that she probably shouldn't have given it any thought when her eyes see you watching her at a distance. She trails off in the midst of her sentence as time seemed to slow to a stop when your lips curl up into an all-too-familiar expression.

Before Navia can even ask her if she's okay or try to break her out of her sudden reverie, Clorinde flinches and almost keels over at the sudden EXTREME increase of speed and force and-- is that a temperature increase too? She doesn't react quietly either—she bites back a yelp, managing a strangled gasp instead. Was this what you were aiming for the entire time? To build it all up until the most inopportune time??

Navia was undoubtedly worried, her hands immediately dropping her parasol to hold her friend steady, "Clorinde?! What happened? Are you hurt?"

The duelist shook her head in an attempt to clear her head but the ever-shifting movement inside her didn't allow that. So instead she tried her best to answer as unaffected as possible, despite her seemingly dramatic display, "Yes, I-- mm.. I'm alright. Just a sudden migraine, is all. Perhaps I've been-- working too hard."

"Whatever did I tell you about working yourself to the bone," the blonde asks, though she doesn't look fully convinced that it's just a migraine, "maybe you should retire for the day. I can tell your--"

"No! It's alright," she rushes out, "I will be fine after some time, you need not worry about me."

"But--"

"Do you not think I can handle myself?"

"I do, but if a migraine gets you such a violent reaction, then surely that's a cause for concern. Are friends not allowed to be worried for each other?"

They are, except this isn't really a migraine she's suffering from!!

(She doesn't know whether she loves or hates the fact that her not being able to say anything about her predicament to her good friend gets her going even more.)

"She probably needs a little rest, somewhere where the sun isn't hitting her eyes."

"Y/N!"

Clorinde looks to you approaching behind the blonde and making yourself known with a happy greeting and she can't help but narrow her eyes at you despite the vibrator in her cunt trying to take all her focus away from her.. or maybe it was due to exactly that, to which your smile widens just a tad further at the effect you have on her.

"Yes, that would be a good place for me to recover. In fact," she keeps her eyes on you as she speaks, "they can take it-- mnf.. take it here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, no need to worry. I will talk to you again s-- ..soon, Navia."

Soon enough, you all part ways (you with Clorinde in tow), leaving a very confused and suspicious Navia alone where you once stood. Neither of you say anything, though as you both reach a deserted alley somewhere, sun blocked by the towering buildings around you, that's when she snaps.

And it is such a lovely thing to witness.

By snapping, I don't mean that she cums right away. I mean she's all over you, gloved hands grasping onto your body and hastily pleading for you to finally help her take the edge off

You're so absolutely mean for doing what you did!!! She says she regrets ever saying yes to this plan and entertaining you like this, to which you laugh at her face. Sure, it would've been a cruel reaction to her distress.. if she weren't so addled with lust; her eyes dark and pupils blown wide, her panties unbelievably wet

It gets worse when you whisper things to her as well such as "you definitely enjoyed it" and "do you think Navia knew? Would you have wanted her to know?" bc even when she shakes her head vehemently and denies it, you can feel her pussy pulsing as you taunt her.........

But then you pull your hand back and Clorinde's looking at you in a mix of frustration and confusion, a complete far cry from her ever-so-composed demeanour on a normal day

She asks you why. Does she need to beg even more? Do you want her to do anything else? She needs this but she's also very aware you're still outside, despite this corner of the area being practically abandoned, so it both gives her a thrill AND a sense of urgency

Your answer? Not one she expected, but should have probably saw coming from a mile away: you want her to cum with the toy and herself only. She's right, this IS still a public space.. so obviously such close proximity would be VERY suspicious, right? And nobody would be able to see the toy buzzing in her, so surely it'd be the best solution

She tries to protest, but you don't budge. Hell, threaten to turn it off for the rest of the day and she'll keel over and do exactly what you ask her to do

So you manipulate the vibrator, up close and personal this time, and you relish in the restricted moans and desperate breaths she lets out as she essentially fucks herself in the alleyway with your help. As the vibe bends to your will within her in different ways, she took her glove off one of her hands with her teeth in a desperate attempt to not dirty her visible clothing before her now-ungloved hand darts into her panties to rub her clit and pleasure herself to you

It's not long when she practically explodes as the setting goes the highest it's ever been, her orgasm SO intense that it has her seeing stars and actually dropping to the ground if it weren't for you immediately rushing over to catch her on time (and maybe you get a light shock of electro too, much to your chagrin, but really it's technically your fault so 🤷‍♀️). You use the control gem to help her with her high, slowly decreasing its intensity until the after-shock is reduced to a few twitches from her here and there

She's practically a lifeless form for a few mins and you can't help but laugh at the situation. She lifts her head up, absolutely unimpressed at your amusement, though a small smile makes her way onto her lips anyway

When she's gained enough strength to hold herself up without falling (mostly bc you whine after a while ab how she's heavy, to which she slaps you up in the head lightly and tells you it's your fault lmao), you both make sure she looks presentable enough to actually go back in public again. You asked her if she wanted to skip instead but she's so duty-bound that she doesn't gaf if she feels fucked-out, she WILL continue her duties

But like. Let's be real though. Esp when you told her she could take the toy out bc you're more than satisfied but she wanted to actually keep it in? You both know that not only will you both have a round two of sorts when you get back home, but this won't necessarily be the last time you'll use this toy after today

You could say she found a love for it 🤷‍♀️ not like she'd ever explicitly admit it when she's not all dumbed out for you in the comfort of your own home

She doesn't even really need to, not with that display earlier

#hazy demos! #hazy explicits! #clorinde #genshin impact clorinde #genshin clorinde #clorinde x reader #clorinde smut #sub clorinde #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #sub genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut #sub genshin #genshin women #genshin women x reader #genshin women smut #sub genshin women #dom reader #gn reader

[canonicallyobserving911]

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 27 is now available on AO3.

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Currently 27 chapters completed: 1.097M Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

___________

Here's a snippet from Chapter 27 of emotionally distraught Buck and Eddie after Buck prepares to admit he's ready to face his death after having avoided it for 10 months.

___________

“EDDIE!” He screams then he hiccups on a sob but he does his best to keep talking so he can explain. “I—I don’t know how to pro—cess it. I got struck by light—ning and—and uh… I—I DIED!”

While looking at his husband, his eyes begin to rapidly move around like he’s searching for an answer and once realization sets in, he continues. “Then you… you had to…” He trails off again as his eyes widen even more and the look in them changes to something that resembles sheer horror and fear. His mouth falls open and all the words he wants to say come to a screeching halt inside of his mind.

Immediately, silence fills their bedroom, it’s deafening and the mood gets heavier but Eddie remains directly in his husband’s line of sight, so he’ll know he’s right in front of him.

Their eyes are locked on each other’s and after a few seconds pass, Buck breaks the sound barrier and yells, “OH MY GOD!”

Eddie can tell all the pieces to the puzzle from the night Buck died are falling into place but since Buck was dead, everything he knows about those three minutes and seventeen seconds was told to him by someone else including Eddie. Imagining how terrifying it must be for him sends a shockwave through his body and he fully understands how upsetting this is especially since he remembers all the feelings he experienced every time he remembered being shot. But there’s a difference since he was in and out of consciousness and he remembers bits and pieces of the things that happened and the blanks were filled in by Buck. Instead of remembering some of it, Buck’s only been told by other people what happened to him and having all those thoughts bombard his frontal lobe at the same time has to be overwhelming.

All he wants to do is take the pain away and with all his attention focused on his husband, he calmly says, “I love you and it’s ok because I’m right here with you. Always and forever, remember?”

Buck lowers his eyes like he does whenever he feels like he should have been able to fix it but Eddie’s not going to let him blame himself for something that’s not his fault. He softly suggests, “Amore mio, guardami”. [“My love, look at me”.]

He slowly raises his eyes and when they meet his husband’s, he shatters and falls forward but Eddie catches him just like he did yesterday. He’s crying so hard he’s hyperventilating and Eddie’s trying to calm him because he doesn’t want him to become unresponsive and fall into a state of unconsciousness again.

___________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

Chapter 27 - After Buck resumes therapy, he’ll continue to face the fact that he “DIED” in March 2023 and during those sessions, he’ll learn about the 7 stages of grief. As he continues his healing journey, Eddie will be right by his side just like he promised and the Diaz family will start to deal with their three minutes and seventeen seconds loss as a family.

Chapter 28 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-27 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #The Diaz Family #buddie fanfic #ao3 fanfic #911 fanfic #911 abc #911 on abc #Fanonwriter2023 on AO3 #Hiatus Reading #Chapter 27 is now available on AO3 #This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

[chantlight]

.

#OOC / HOLLY. #most of the reason I was MIA for so long was indeed stress #but now that that stress has subsided and I'm kicking around on tumblr a bit more #I'm still kinda struggling to be Here on Cass #it's 100% not a lack of muse or ideas or interest in the source material or anything like that #but I think I've finally narrowed it down to missing old partners who aren't active rn [and some may not be active again] #I think what it is is that you just build great things *with* other people #then when they can't play in the sandbox with you anymore it's hard to muster the same enthusiasm #I want to make it clear tho that tumblr rp is just a lil hobby that people should enjoy how they want #or focus on other things if they want and/or need #this is purely a reflection on my end on maybe why I haven't been active #the solution . . . is to talk to people more . . . reach out more . . . plot more . . . #boy I'm bad at keeping up conversations tho

[thethingything]

the sun's started rising around the same time it does in late spring so now I've got that weird nostalgia for when I first showed up in the system and I'm also stuck thinking about when Lucy was like "September is the March of the year" because while that's kind of a ridiculous quote, I do get what they meant with it

#personal #thoughts #🍬 post #something about the sun rising at the same time and in the same location as it did in those first 3 months of me being in the system #makes me really nostalgic for that time period and it's simultaneously nice experiencing the same vibe #and kind of upsetting when I think a little bit too hard about the passage of time and not being able to go back #I think there's something I miss about everything being new #and a relatively small group of us showing up at around the same time and being in the same situation #and all just kind of working together to figure stuff out #on the one hand suddenly being in the system was upsetting and confusing but there was a kind of novelty to it #whereas now it's just my life. which isn't a bad thing per say. it's just that a lot of things have sunk in since then #about being stuck here and having to deal with certain things permanently #plus a lot of the people I used to hang out with all the time (mostly other people from my source) aren't as active anymore #although I think a lot of them were less active last summer but then more active over the winter? maybe that'll happen again? who knows... #I should have been in bed probably 2+ hours ago and I think that's making me feel weird emotionally #and now I'm thinking a little too hard about being stuck in a body that doesn't feel like it's mine #because I looked in the mirror for a little too long earlier and got freaked out about seeing someone else's reflection

[caffeinated-bibliophile]

I'm still crying 😠

#this is the kind of blow that would have made me actively suicidal a few years ago and yes i realize how stupid that is #as things are now... I'm not coping *well* but I'm managing to hold onto anger so the depression doesn't totally take over #but i can not stop crying #every time i think I'm finally done it starts up again #this has also pushed my anxiety to the point where i feel like I'm going to pass out throw up or both and i can't stop shaking #audiobooks with my noise canceling headphones were my best/only semi-effective tool for dealing with anxiety #and yes i know. reading is a privilege and i should just be grateful that books are available in my country & that we have libraries at all #this year has been one thing after another and even small things like this pile up and eventually become overwhelming #and this happening as my seasonal depression is really ramping up was just the fucking cherry on top i guess #i almost just. deleted this blog lmao. what's the point of having a book blog when i can't really read right? #but i keep telling myself nothing lasts forever and i will regret it if i throw away an 8 year old side blog #but even looking at books is making me feel even more nauseous and shaky right now #so i might be on hiatus after my queue runs out idk #depends on how long this churning pit of despair lasts i guess #and also. this happened at a holiday weekend all i can't even make a 1-2 hour drive to a library to renew or get a new card #because libraries around here close between 4 & 6PM most days and i can't get to one after my partner gets home from work before they close #everything about this situation is like. worst timing.

[saritawolff]

Phew. This one took, uh… a bit longer than expected due to other projects both irl and art-wise, but it’s finally here. The long-awaited domestic animal infographic! Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough space to cover every single domestic animal (I’m so sorry, reindeer and koi, my beloveds) but I tried to include as many of the “major ones” as possible.

I made this chart in response to a lot of the misunderstandings I hear concerning domestic animals, so I hope it’s helpful!

Further information I didn’t have any room to add or expand on:

🐈 “Breed” and “species” are not synonyms! Breeds are specific to domesticated animals. A Bengal Tiger is a species of tiger. A Siamese is a breed of domestic cat.

🐀 Different colors are also not what makes a breed. A breed is determined by having genetics that are unique to that breed. So a “bluenose pitbull” is not a different breed from a “rednose pitbull”, but an American Pitbull Terrier is a different breed from an American Bully! Animals that have been domesticated for longer tend to have more seperate breeds as these differing genetics have had time to develop.

🐕 It takes hundreds of generations for an animal to become domesticated. While the “domesticated fox experiment” had interesting results, there were not enough generations involved for the foxes to become truly domesticated and their differences from wild foxes were more due to epigenetics (heritable traits that do not change the DNA sequence but rather activate or deactivate parts of it; owed to the specific circumstances of its parents’ behavior and environment.)

🐎 Wild animals that are raised in human care are not domesticated, but they can be considered “tamed.” This means that they still have all their wild instincts, but are less inclined to attack or be frightened of humans. A wild animal that lives in the wild but near human settlements and is less afraid of humans is considered “habituated.” Tamed and habituated animals are not any less dangerous than wild animals, and should still be treated with the same respect. Foxes, otters, raccoons, servals, caracals, bush babies, opossums, owls, monkeys, alligators, and other wild animals can be tamed or habituated, but they have not undergone hundreds of generations of domestication, so they are not domesticated animals.

🐄 Also, as seen above, these animals have all been domesticated for a reason, be it food, transport, pest control, or otherwise, at a time when less practical options existed. There is no benefit to domesticating other species in the modern day, so if you’ve got a hankering for keeping a wild animal as a pet, instead try to find the domestic equivalent of that wild animal! There are several dog breeds that look and behave like wolves or foxes, pigeons and chickens can make great pet birds and have hundreds of colorful fancy breeds, rats can be just as intelligent and social as a small monkey (and less expensive and dangerous to boot,) and ferrets are pretty darn close to minks and otters! There’s no need to keep a wolf in a house when our ancestors have already spent 20,000+ years to make them house-compatible.

🐖 This was stated in the infographic, but I feel like I must again reiterate that domestic animals do not belong in the wild, and often become invasive when feral. Their genetics have been specifically altered in such a way that they depend on humans for optimal health. We are their habitat. This is why you only really see feral pigeons in cities, and feral cats around settlements. They are specifically adapted to live with humans, so they stay even when unwanted. However, this does not mean they should live in a way that doesn’t put their health and comfort as a top priority! If we are their world, it is our duty to make it as good as possible. Please research any pet you get before bringing them home!

#SaritaZoo #my art #domestic animals #domestication #pets #dogs #cats #ferrets #cows #sheep #goats #bovids #horses #donkeys #camels #llamas #alpacas #rabbits #guinea pigs #rats #pet rats #pet mice #pigs #pigeons #turkeys #chickens #ducks #geese #quail #i ran out of tags rip

[medicinemane]

I'm very tired, I have to do everything around the house myself (as in, I keep having to turn the water off and on to the kitchen sink until I teach myself to install a new faucet, and negative cleaning gets done if I don't do it), and the money is in the hands of the third worst person in the whole family when it comes to money (the worst being my grandpa who is dead, and my grandma who blows all her money on overpriced jackets and other junk)

I'm very tired, I have to teach myself how to do everything, and I have almost literally no support in any way shape or form ever

I can't remember the last time anyone said they were proud of me... I don't actually know if anyone's ever used that word with me before. When I do something like get the trailer cleaned out or buy a house, frankly no one gives a fuck, except my grandma who gets mad

I haven't actually had a chance to see anyone that counts as a friend in like 15 years, and I mean even in high school everyone liked me but no one could be bothered to actually ever even talk outside school... so even back then it's not like I had anyone I was close with

I'm providing this version where I totally remove how I feel or how I view myself from the description and instead try to provide something close to an objective description of things

So if you wonder why I say what I say about myself, honestly I think it's pretty much all summed up here

#mm tag so i can find things later #also this is why you can maybe piss off instead of coming around here and saying I should get off the internet and go to therapy #in spite of how morose I am; I'm actively working to fix this stuff by... at least learning more of the skills I need #like... learn to replace a faucet; then at least I don't have the sink issue weighing me down #and maybe if I fix enough of it someday things'll be ok #although... in my mind no matter what I do I'll still be alone and unlovable; but that's just a description of how I view things #regardless of how I may feel; I am trying to do stuff to fix how I feel by trying to fix my situation #so like... if you're gonna come here and tell me I need to fix my mental health #may I respectfully say either you can lend me a hand or maybe you should mind your own business #cause what the fuck do you think I'm trying to do? #not that anyone will read this or particularly care #not trying to be rude or something; just extrapolating past data to make a prediction #it's not that people here don't care or don't like me; it's just we're all busy with our own lives and no one really knows what to do #well I'm... I'm trying to write you a guide; I'm asking for help here #...to an extent it's totally fine if no one helps... but you kinda don't get to go around acting like you love being asked for help #I mean... you do; it's your life... but I'm just saying... this is me asking for help... yet again #but I expect nothing because that's what usually happens #I really don't mean to... to imply anything about anyone else; it's just descriptively I don't get help and I don't get support #and... based on all the information I have my model for the outcome of this says no one will even notice it #that tag of mine of things I can find later or whatever... it has me outright saying a number of things #...no one ever hears or listens #anyway; there it is... another pointless cry for help #...don't say I didn't warn you when I wind up killing myself one day #probably not anytime soon; maybe not ever... all I'm saying is don't pretend you didn't see it coming or like I didn't reach out #at least... as best I could... maybe I could have done better #like sure; could I walk up to specific people and say 'I need you to do this'; sure... #but I find... I find people just ignore it if I say that too #so I've given up; you know? #this is the best I can muster #don't say I didn't tell you

[piplupod]

urrgghrhhh. everything happens so much. sleep is going to be fucked tonight which fucks me over for tomorrow and I'm already only hanging on by a thread. how much more can i take of this, we shall see !!!!!

#why am i handling this so badly what the fuck is my issue #she's not dead she's not actively dying as far as we know she's just got a fucked up abnormal case of some kind of internal infection #which is potentially lethal but we just do not know and modern medicine is great so it should be fine but also this local hospital is shit #so maybe it won't be fine. but then wouldnt that be a blessing of some kind to have her out of my life? to be free forever? thats terrible #thats so fucked up. stop that. but the emotions persist. the thoughts continue to spiral around and around #i cannot escape i am trapped i am alone i am not making it out of here all in one piece there is going to be more headaches and shattering #im so tired so unbelievably tired !!! and people continue to need and want and i must stop dad from burning the house down #and keep tabs on everyone because they all end up needing me for that and i have to keep feeding myself and going to appts #i need to be out of here i am so tired and cannot do this anymore #and soon it'll all be covered in fog again and I'll be able to function somewhat but its broiling and churning underneath all day long #its ten open busy tabs in behind everything else thats active and i am overloaded and crashing and soon i will be a bricked PC #vent / #pippen needs 2nd breakfast #delete later

[thehmn]

I was talking with my housemate about how to be more physically active if you’re not used to it at all because everywhere you’re told to start a training routine where you push yourself a little every day, and while that may seem easy for some people it can be really fucking daunting if you start from zero.

As someone who comes from a very physically active family that doesn’t exercise just for the sake of exercising but do things like walk to the grocery store and bike to work, here’s my advice that has always worked for me:

Go super duper easy on yourself.

If you want to walk more start by walking for 3 or 5 minutes. The shortest possible walk you feel you’re capable of. A trip around the block or across the yard. You don’t need to sweat or get your blood pumping. Just a short stroll. The hardest part is to convince yourself to set aside 5 minutes every day to go on this short walk but nothing else about it should be hard. Do it every day and one day you’ll realize that you don’t want to go home just yet. It’s very important that you don’t think “I want to pressure myself to walk further” but rather “I haven’t spent all my walking energy yet. I have more walk in me” and only then do you lengthen the walk. I repeat, at no point should it be exhausting or difficult because even when it feels easy your body will be building muscle and stamina and it will eventually feel too easy and you’ll naturally want to crank it back up to easy again.

If you’re not used to being physically active it might not make a ton of sense when I say that you’ll have more walking energy left but trust me, you’ll get it when you get there.

I grew up with going on evening walks with my parents and passed that on to other housemates who didn’t get it at first but are now going on walks long after they moved somewhere else. Because once you get the hang of it you’ll realize how calming it is on the brain to move the body even if the body isn’t exhausted afterwards.

And it of course helps to entertain yourself especially in the beginning. My housemate started out listening to audiobooks and podcasts but eventually realized Pokémon Go was the best motivator. Whatever you feel like you want to do on your 5 minute easy stroll.

#humontalks #walking #advice

[pocket-deer-boy]

This is just a personal pet peeve of mine but i feel like a lot of online art tutorials overstate the importance of stuff like guidelines to get “correct” anatomy every single time and while those are typically really good handgrips for beginners we should also tell beginners about gesture drawing. Like maybe i’m being too animatorbrained here but being able to pump out a pose in anywhere from 15 seconds to 2 minutes and quickly move onto the next drawing without lingering on every little mistake is a really really good way at getting good at drawing people proportions quickly. If you make mistakes fast you learn from them fast. So here’s a little exercise:

Sit down, grab some reference images, draw ten poses in twenty minutes (or do ten poses in ten minutes if you’re feeling adventurous or confident) and take a step back and look at your work after the fact. Be sure to move from drawing to drawing quickly once your timer is done. Pretend you’re in a model drawing class and the model has already changed pose whenever your timer hits - finish up whatever lines you were drawing, move on to looking at what the model is doing now.

You will make a lot of shitty drawings, of course, but that’s not so bad. You only spent a minute or two making each one. Focus on the drawings you do like, and look at them as a whole.

Look at all the drawings together and how they fit together on the page. Look at little details and lines you’re proud of. Take note of things you found difficult to get right in such a short time. Take note of the things you liked doing. Do the exercise again, and focus in on the things you want to improve or explore.

Maybe you want to focus on how the torso conveys its weight on the legs. Maybe you want to focus on how shoulders and arms bend around the neck. Maybe you want to focus on how to convey depth on the torso. Maybe you can learn something more about how to draw a body if you only draw using sharp lines and angles. Maybe you can learn something more if you only draw using squiggly, overlapping lines. Maybe you can learn more about how to draw a body if you only fill out the shadows with thick, quick lines. Congratulations! You’re not just learning how to draw a body, but you’re now also exploring your tastes!

This is a fine exercise to do alone, but it’s a lot more fun to do as an activity with a small group so you get to discuss the art you made together.

#art #art tutorial #drawing tutorial

[scuderiahoney]

Be Brave

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: none

a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!

In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.

The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.

You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.

Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.

Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.

The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.

“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”

You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”

Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”

“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.

You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.

“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”

“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”

“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”

Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.

“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”

Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.

“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”

You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.

“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.

“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”

He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.

“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.

He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.

“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.

“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.

He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.

“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”

Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”

Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.

“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.

“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.

“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.

With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.

You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”

The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.

“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.

“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”

“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”

He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.

Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.

“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.

“Never,” Lando lies.

“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.

“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”

Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.

Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.

“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”

Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”

The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.

“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.

Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.

“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.

The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.

“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”

A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.

You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”

“We were happy to,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.

“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.

You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.

“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.

You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.

It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.

Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.

And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.

“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“

You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.

“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”

Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”

You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.

You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.

The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-

Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.

“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”

You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”

Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.

“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”

You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.

“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”

Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”

“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”

Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.

“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.

“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”

Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.

Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.

“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.

He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”

Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”

He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”

You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”

He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.

“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”

Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”

You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.

“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”

Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”

He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.

He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.

“Who?” His dad asks.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.

“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”

His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”

Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.

On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.

“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”

He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.

“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”

You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”

She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”

You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”

You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.

“Got a secret admirer?”

You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.

Hi,

I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,

Oscar

His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.

“Just a friend,” you lie.

“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”

She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”

You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.

The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.

“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”

“Papaya,” you correct softly.

“Huh?”

“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”

You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.

“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.

“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.

She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”

“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”

“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”

“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”

You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.

…..

It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.

You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.

You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.

The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.

You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.

He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”

You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.

His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.

He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”

You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.

“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”

He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”

You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.

“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

He blushes. “Shut up.”

It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”

“Cool,” Oscar says.

“Cool,” you agree.

Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.

…..

Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.

“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.

You laugh. “Did you?”

He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.

When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.

Okay, maybe it is.

a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

#Oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri fanfic #Oscar piastri fluff #formula one fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formual one oneshot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #honeywrites #op81