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artificial-transmutations · 12 hours

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Historically Accurate

"I'm telling you, Hollywood is going down with all the woke crap! You know what they say: Go woke go broke!"

Julian and Wallace were on their way back from the lunch room and the former was listening to the latter complaining. Julian had tried to avoid any topic like this, but, really, it was a mine field with Wallace. Just about *every* topic had the potential to turn out political.

"I don't see what's wrong with a little inclusion in pop culture." Julian said, not wanting to argue but also not wanting to leave that opinion unopposed.

"Everything! It's just plain wrong, and it's brainwash, too. I mean, it's like a mind virus, poisoning everything! There's a western coming out next week. But it's all bullshit woke agenda again. The cowboy is black and gay! Literal brainwash and historical rewrite."

Julian frowned. How could an intelligent person like Wallace be so stupid at the same time?

"Why does that even bother you? I thought you hated westerns."

"Yes, that's not the point. Fact is, it's historically inaccurate and just pushing the woke agenda."

"Actually, I think it's not even historically incorrect." Julian pondered as they entered the lab using Julian's keycard and an iris scan of both scientists.

Wallace was borderline angry now.

"What are you talking about? Everyone knows that cowboys were the whitest and the straightest people there were."

"I'm not quite sure", Julian said. "Weren't there freed slaves and so on? And I would guess if you were underway with another guy for prolonged periods of time, not everything staid straight, too."

"Bullshit! Everyone knows cowboys weren't fags, and they were white."

Wallace seemed agitated now, and his usual stiff demeanor became even more pronounced.

Wallace was in his mid-forties, but the way he was talking, he seemed way older to Julian.

Julian on the other hand was awfully young for the position he had. Being 25, he still didn't look like he had finished college, even though he had his doctorate already.

It was really a bit sad, he thought. Two of the brightest minds and they were bickering over basic, meaningless distinctions like ethnicity or sexual orientation.

"We could just ask the computer." he proposed, but Wallace frowned.

"We are not supposed to use the equipment for private research." he said.

'The computer' was part of the highly secretive project they worked on. When finished, it was supposed to be a time machine, simple as that. The actual time travel device didn't work properly yet, but a part of it, a chronoton boosted quantum computer that was able to access history itself to answer questions about the part, was already functioning quite well.

"But we are supposed to test it from time to time. Are you afraid of the answer it might give?"

"Of course not." Wallace grumbled. "Fine. Computer! Is there any historical evidence of gay black cowboys?"

The voice activated system acknowledged the request with a beep. While waiting for the answer, Julian checked the parameters of the system and found them in near-perfect condition.

Finally, the system answered, with the neutral male voice it was programmed with.

"A significant portion of cowboys consisted of people with African heritage, especially after the freeing of slaves after the civil war. Homosexual acts and attraction were common among cowboys, especially during the trail drives. Demonstrating..."

"Hrmpf." Wallace said, clearly not happy.

Julian, who was still checking the readings, scratched his head.

"Did you remember to disconnect the capsule before making the query? It seems to be drawing power."

"Ah, crap. That's just because of all the bullshit talk. Computer, stop!"

"Unable to comply. Demonstrating... Target: Montana Frontier Area, June 1865..."

The white walls of the chamber started to glow in an ever brighter white that was beginning to hurt the eyes.

"Crap. Julian, cut the power!" Wallace said, now with a clear notion of fear in his voice. The younger scientist didn't answer but tried to do as he was told - but did not succeed in time.

Suddenly, with a flash, their surroundings changed and the two of them found themselves in the middle of a rugged mountain range, on the border of a pine forest. It was late afternoon and the scientists found themselves in a just set-up camp. Two horses were standing nearby, and a small herd of cows was grazing at a meadow.

Wallace sighed and shook his head angrily. "Just great. Look at the mess you just put us in. Now we have to wait until we're rescued. And, apparently, we have to meet some black homo cowboys."

Julian looked around but couldn't see anyone around.

"I would have also guessed so, but there doesn't seem to be anyone there."

His heart sank as he had a terrible suspicion. He had been experimenting lately with a normalization circuit that would embed the time travelers into history instead of superimposing them onto it. That was - according to his theories - a rather elegant way to resolve the repelling effect the historical structure had, but it wasn't finished by any means. It had never been tested and even theoretically, it wouldn't be able to achieve a partial embedding, only a full one at best. And the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that it had still been connected to the system.

As Julian thought about how to break it to Wallace, he noticed something strange about the other scientist. It could be a trick of the light, but he looked way more tanned than before.

"Uhm... It might actually be somewhat worse than that. I think my normalization circuit was still active when you activated the machine."

"What? What does that mean?" Wallace looked at him, furiously now.

"Well, I would guess..." Julian struggled and gave up. "Look at your hands, I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

Wallace looked down at his darkening hands and paled. Even now, he still had a considerably darker skin tone than before, darkening with every passing second.

"Shit." he said. "That's what you get for fucking around with a half-finished experiment."

Julian didn't even dare to mention his suspicion. If his normalization circuit was really active, that would make Wallace an actual, black cowboy, and not just him. Julian was also a time traveler, so he, too, would be affected.

Meanwhile, the changes in Wallace seemed to have proceeded. His facial structure looked like it was in motion before finally settling on a generally broader, manlier shape: The jawline became more pronounced, and his cheekbones raised.

"Is there... anything going on with me as well?" Julian asked.

Wallace looked over at him.

"Yeah, your hair color is changing, and I think your eye color. Blonde and blue-eyed, how cliché. But most importantly, you're not becoming fucking a fucking Black man."

Wallace didn't say Black man.

For some reason, this didn't bother Julian half as much as it should have. He felt rather at ease, and the untamed wilderness around him awakened a sense of adventure inside of him that he didn't know was in him.

Meanwhile Wallace was also feeling a change within. A surge of confidence emerged from within him that was entirely alien to the deeply insecure man at first, but quickly became more and more part of his personality. It was like his core was solidifying into a confident and assertive nature, a boldness and quiet he secretly always wished he had. At the same time, his body structure changed considerably.

Where before, Wallace had been a physically unimpressive mid-forties man, it now seemed like the years melted off of him, and for every year that he lost, he gained three pounds of muscle mass and beef. His shoulders widened, his height increased, and his frame expanded in order to accommodate the new body mass.

"It's not that bad, ain't it?" While Julian's body had not changed much besides the hair and eye color, his voice sounded entirely different now. It had a southern lilt to it, but it was charismatic and charming. It was the kind of voice you could listen to for hours without end, perfect for reading an audiobook - or telling campfire stories.

"Well now, I ain't too sure 'bout that." Wallace's voice had changed even more considerably when he answered. He had gained a thick southern accent, and his voice had dropped to a low and smooth voice that sounded commanding even if he didn't intend to.

"Ha, look at that, your skin's startin' to change now, too!"

And really, Julian's skin had started to adapt as well, but it was quickly becoming apparent that it went a different route than Wallace's. Instead of darkening to the almost black tone that he was sporting, Julian's skin became rougher and got a sun-kissed tan instead. His facial features sharpened, as his cheekbones looked chiseled all of a sudden and a rugged beard texture was adorning his chin. Julian seemed to notice it, too, since he started touching his new face immediately.

"Cool! Always wondered what I'd look like sportin' a beard." he said, apparently not too unhappy with the changes.

There was no denying Julian looked good, which made Wallace feel a touch of jealousy. In his opinion, it wasn't fair that he was the only one having to deal with the black skin. That feeling quickly faded, though, as his changes continued. His hair became very short, curly and dark. At the same time, a short beard formed on his chin and upper lip, giving him an even manlier appeal. At the same time, chest hair sprouted, sparsely of course, as it was normal for a man of his heritage. A strange feeling overcame Wallace. He wasn't necessarily *proud* to be Black now, but he also didn't mind it anymore. He was proud of a lot of secondary assets, though, like his bulging muscles or his handsome face. As his eyes became a dark brown, he had to smirk as he sat down by the fire, readjusting himself in the process. And, of course, his big cock, which might also have been positively influenced by his new ancestry.

Wallace watched as Julian turned around and tended to the horses. His body was now, finally, also changing. It didn't become nearly as bulky as his own, but instead lean and agile, with narrow hips and a well-distributed surprising strength, as Wallace knew. While Julian was busy with the horses, Wallace had a good view of his ass. It filled out the jeans just so well, and Vallace only noticed now that the other man's attire had changed. He was clad in a pair of blue jeans, a vest and, of course a Stetson now, and Vance always thought that this outfit accentuated the best parts of his partner quite well. He preferred black leather, himself, since the material was sturdier and felt better on the skin.

Vince felt his cock hardening in his leather pants and readjusted himself again while also leaning back and spreading his legs to make more room for the erection. He wasn't afraid of anyone seeing his rude behavior. The only other man within a wide range was Jesse, the owner of that juicy ass. And he was allowed to see... well, everything.

Vince waited patiently until Jesse returned to the campfire, with a big smile on his face.

"How them horses holdin' up, partner?" Vince asked.

"They're good. Just a tad worn out from today's ride." Jesse answered.

"Well, there's somethin' else needs tendin' to, if you're free to lend a hand. Or an ass." Vince grinned and made his cock throb in the confines of his tight leather pants.

Jesse grinned at the display of masculinity and massaged his own cock.

"Hell yes!"

As Jesse moved over in his usual graceful movements, Vince leaned back. There really wasn't anything better than being a big, black cowboy. Especially not with a partner like Jesse, who was always happy to make the nights in the wilderness a little less lonely.

Certainly not poor and lonesome! Also check out this awesome writer!

There are a few more versions of Jesse and Vince, over at my tip jar.

#male transformation #straight to gay #muscle transformation #racial transformation #cowboy #historical transformation

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itsmealaiah · 1 day

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"marking you mine"

TW: virgin sex, p in v, obsessions, profanity, corruption kink, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, sex ed (somewhat)

Request: Heyyyy girll 🤗🤗 Love ur writing Hawtie u should do one with bill (or Tom I don’t mind Frr) where they fuck and it’s like her first time and he’s obsessing over how tight and new to it she is 😍😍😍 Gotta be on my way to do girlboss tings but I love u pookster 🫶

Rating: mdni, mature themes lie ahead

WC: 1.1k

Bill was always obsessed with your pussy, knowing you were still pure, still innocent, and being able to mark you as his was his dream

He loved to think about him teaching you his favorite kinks, and showing you how he liked it, drilling into your head his most liked things during sex first so no other partner could.

It drove him insane, thinking about your soft body underneath his, making you his perfect little sex doll to do his bidding.

You were sitting on his lap, watching a movie as his hands toyed with the waistband of your shorts, seemingly having no ill-intent behind them as he pulled you further onto his chest, kissing the side of your face.

Your face immediately flushed, burying your head into the side of his neck as he laughed, bringing his hand up from your shorts and stroking your hair gently.

"is my baby shy?"

you giggled, shaking your head as he kissed it, a smile spreading across his elegant features.

"mm, i think she is, might need to change that"

you lifted your head up in confusion, wondering what he meant. Your clean, pure mind was genuinely wondering what he meant with this statement.

He grinned, and turned your head so your eyes were rested on his crotch as you blushed profusely in embarrassment. were girlfriends supposed to look at their boyfriend's privates?

you thought it was wrong, so you turned away, but his hand gripped your chin harshly, making you gaze at it once more, his free hand flying to your left hand, lowering it to his clothed cock as you squirmed.

"billy n-no" you protested, your conscious getting the better of you, telling you this was not what should be happening right now.

"don't you want to please your boyfriend? this is how all the good girls do it" he proclaimed, guiding your hand up and down his length.

you frowned, his member was hard and tough as your hand stroked it. you felt shameful, and you took your palm away as he opened his eyes, sighing angrily.

"c'mon baby, it's not so bad" he attempted to convince you, but you shook your head once more as he groaned.

he knew he couldn't force you to do anything, that would be mean, and he wasn't mean, that wasn't his personality nor his character, so he pleaded with his eyes, begging. "please?"

you looked at him, seeing his desperate eyes as your walls crumbled, and you gave in.

"atta girl, c'mon bunny, let's go to my room" he was acting extra giddy now, excited to finally get his hands on your sweet little pussy.

he laid you down on the bed, slowly stripping off your clothes as you turned your head to the side, too embarrassed to look.

seeing you like this, all flustered was making him so hard. so so hard, even harder then before as he tugged your shorts down, eyes gazing to your panties, a little wet spot residing there as he grinned.

"aw bunny, look at that, you're already wet for me" he ran his finger over your clothed folds, your hips jerking up and head shifting to see what he was talking about.

"i haven't even started yet, that's so cute!" he kissed your neck slowly, hands slipping your underwear down as he did so.

his lips wrapped around your skin, creating a mark as bit down, hearing you hiss in pleasure filled pain. his tongue laid down on the love bite, soothing you.

he saw the bite, and wanted you to have more, more reminders of him, so everyone would know this sweet little innocent girl was his, his to claim, his to use, his to pleasure.

he loved that thought.

he lowered his head, a small trail of kisses guiding to your abdomen like a trail of fire as he kissed just above your pussy.

he stood up, undoing his pants and shedding his boxers quickly, eager to feel you for the first time. his hands held yours above your head, guiding himself into you.

your walls grasped and squeezed him harshly, you were so tight, but it felt oh so good.

he was officially obsessed with your pussy, molding it to fit his shape. you cried out in pain as he gazed up, eyes leaving your hole momentarily to see your tear-stained eyes.

"oh bunny, i know, i'm sorry, but it only hurts for a second, i promise" he kissed your cheeks sweetly as you whispered out a broken "ok"

he was losing his goddamn mind, trying to keep you calm as your pussy felt so warm, so good around him as you whimpered in pleasure.

his cock wasn't even fully in and you were looking as blissed out as possible. he slowly guided more of him into your tight, wet heat, his head lowering down onto yours, capturing every cry, every noise with his lips.

he bottomed out soon enough, and began to create a soft pace, knowing you were to bleed, since you were again, a virgin.

you yelped, his cock creating a new pleasure yet pain as your eyes watered, feeling the pleasure encompass you, his thickness stretching your walls.

"oh-oh billy t-too much!" you sobbed out, raking your nails down his back in a desperate motion, your legs wrapping around his waist as he thrust deeper, finding a new angle.

"fuck bunny, s'tight, you feel so good" he moaned, his head resting in the curve of your neck.

you whined, your boobs bouncing as he fucked you harder, ruining your innocence as you bled onto the sheets, the stain of your virginity showing, and that it was now gone, all thanks to bill's cock.

he picked up his pace, his balls slapping against your ass as you groaned, fisting the sheets harshly as you felt a strange sensation take over your body, one that made your legs shake in pleasure.

"g-god!" your walls tightened around his cock, and he knew you were about to cum. "do it bunny, c'mon, be a good girl for me"

you let out a semi-scream, back arching as you came on his dick for the first time, and he was happy.

now you were his little toy.

Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers @tomssexdoll @tomscumdump @kqulitzlvr @charliesgoodboy @tomkaulitzloverr

Requests are open! keep sending them in!

comment to be tagged 🤍

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x reader smut #bill kaulitz x you #billskeis #itsmealaiah

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bambithewriter · 2 days

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Little tawtute

Spider(23) x fem!human reader(21) x Neteyam(22)

Content: MDNI, 18+, threesome, dom Spider, dom Neteyam, sub reader, oral (f receiving), p in v, voyeurism, slight Lo’ak x reader

Summary: Neteyam walks in on a private moment between Spider and a cute little tawtute.

A/N: I literally had this draft saved for weeks but didn’t have any motivation to finish it until today. After my hot girl walk, I was full of ideas and this smutty piece was born. This is my first time writing Spider so that was a new experience. I’m not going to lie, this was supposed to be a drabble yet it turned out way longer🤭

tawtute - human

yawntutsyìp - little loved one

Growing up on Pandora had been tough, being one of the only humans her age. The only one around was Spider. It’s no wonder they grew so close…perhaps too close.

Turning into a woman changed her body.

Her body became heavier and plumper. Her curves filled out perfectly. She couldn’t wear the Na’vi clothes she used to love as a child. It simply didn’t feel as comfortable anymore, too revealing.

Activities such as exploring the forest, climbing, and running no longer felt comfortable for her body.

Spider wasn’t the little kid he used to be. He grew into a fully adult man with a strong body. It showed how much he had adapted to the Na’vi lifestyle.

Spider never strayed from the Na’vi culture while she felt more comfortable in the lab with the humans. Their relationship never faltered despite their differences.

There was one they did have in common. The craving for intimacy. Sexual intimacy. With the two being the only ones around their age, what choice did they have?

Tonight was one of those nights.

A night filled with nothing but the sound of their lips smacking together, hands exploring each other's bodies.

Their clothes were scattered on the forest floor.

They didn’t talk. No, not tonight. Not when it had been weeks since they last had intimacy together. It had been tormenting for both of them.

She had been busy helping around the lab, assisting Max whenever needed.

Spider, as usual, spent a lot of time in the village. He may not have an avatar but that never stopped him from helping the people.

Spider was tough, brave and loyal. He may not have been born with the same physical as the Na’vi but what he did have was their mentality.

The only times they'd see each other was when Spider entered the lab to replace his mask or to stuff down some food.

That's why when they finally had time for themselves, Spider took her to a spot in the forest just a couple minutes away from the lab.

Spider was playful but he was no tease. Not when both of them were so desperate for each other.

That's why instead of teasing her as he usually would, he took off her clothes without hesitation.

He had her naked in seconds, two fingers stuffed deep inside of her wet cunt, thumb teasing her little nub.

If it weren't for those damn masks he'd have a taste too.

Neteyam was tired, exhausted even. Today had been awful.

He was tasked to train the young warriors, forced to attend a meeting regarding the sky people and got yet another scolding for not having found a mate already.

He was always on duty, helping everyone but himself. Oh, to be the future olo'eyktan. What a dream.

His father had tasked him to deliver some samples to the lab before dismissing him for today.

It was already late, forest lit up with the bioluminescent flora and fauna.

He swiftly moved to the forest, bow and arrows on his back, warrior gear still on.

He wanted to get the samples to the lab and get it over with already.

Despite his tiredness, his senses were still on full alert. A warrior never weakens.

His ears twitched when he heard the sound of whimpering, tail flicking up in interest.

He approached the sounds, crouching down and staying hidden while trying to get a closer view.

His pupils dilated at the lewd sight in front of him, hairless eyebrows raising.

It was Lo'ak his friend, Spider. He was kissing a woman, a tawtute woman. Her back was pressed against a tree, eyes closed while Spider had two fingers stuffed inside her pussy.

His other hand held her leg up around his waist just to get better access to her dripping cunt.

Neteyam's eyes darkened when he saw the tawtute's slick dripping down Spider's fingers before falling to the floor.

He knew it was wrong to stay instead of leaving the two of them, but how could he? He was pent up, in need of a release. Seems like he had found his destresser tonight.

His cock instantly hardened, one of his hands moving down to untie his loincloth. As soon as it fell off he took his cock in one hand, pumping it slowly, eyes never leaving the sight in front of him.

A smug grin appeared on his face when the tawtute opened her eyes and made direct eye contact with him. She squeaked in surprise, alerting Spider of the third person watching them.

Spider spread her legs, revealing her hole of glory.

“Spider.” She softly whined, feeling shy with her pussy exposed like that.

Neteyam shushed her, affectionately caressing her hair. “Ssh tawtute, you’re okay. I won’t do anything bad to you. I think you’ll like it a lot.” His words may have been reassuring but his smirk said otherwise, a silent reminder of how screwed she was.

“You’re okay, pretty girl. I’m here.” Spider comforted her, his hands caressing the side of her waist.

Spider was sitting on the forest floor, his back resting against the tree. He had her sitting in between his legs, her legs spread wide for Neteyam who was crouched down in front of her opened legs.

“So pretty, so soft,” Neteyam mumbled, inspecting her body. His gaze was so intense and focused, making her shy. Neteyam didn't fail to notice this, sensing her nervousness.

“Ssh, tawtute. I’m here. Neteyam will make it all better.” He said in a hushed tone, hands gently caressing her body.

He started by cupping her face in his large hands, running them down to caress his fingers over her delicate neck.

He leaned closer to her neck, taking in her scent. “Mmm.” He grunted softly, continuing to sniff at her neck. His hands, however, continued to explore her. His hands fondled those heavy breasts, not used to their size.

Neteyam inched closer to her pussy taking in its appearance and smell. “Such a small pussy.” He mocked her.

“Lay off her man.” Spider hissed at him, an annoyed look present on his face.

Neteyam shot him a warning glare.

The moment he caught a whiff of her arousal, it was over for her.

His pupils dilated and a crazed look appeared on his face. Before she knew it he pulled her closer by her thighs, burying his face in her pussy.

“N-Neteyam.” She whimpered, hips bucking up when his big tongue lapped at her pussy like a starved man.

He pulled the hood of her pussy up, revealing the small nub hiding underneath, his tongue swirling over it. She cried out in pleasure, hands holding onto Spider’s firm thighs.

Spider squeezed her breasts together, teasing the nipples. His cock was hard, aching to be stroked. He had to wait. He knew he couldn’t stop Neteyam now, not when he was this feral.

“I can't." Neteyam, it’s too much.” She whimpered, chest heaving up and down, her hips rolling against his face.

Neteyam didn’t bother to hold them down, loving the way her pussy smothered him.

“It’s okay yawntutsyìp. I’ll take care of you hmm?” He said in a caring manner only to push a finger in her pussy, making come here motions.

"Nggh, Neteyam!” She whined, her hands holding onto his braids. He only groaned at the feeling of the pair of small hands in his hair, in return making her feel even better with the vibrations sent to her pussy.

Neteyam thrust into his hand, unable to keep himself from pumping his cock with the way she was clenching around his finger and the overwhelming scent of my pussy.

She was sent into a frenzy when he added yet another finger, pumping them at a tantalizing pace. With each pump, they’d grind against her sweet spot.

His fingers along with his tongue massaging her clit became too much for the poor girl. “Mmm, am cumming!” She cried out, warm slick drizzling out of her pussy. Neteyam was quick to lap it all up.

It was only when she desperately started tugging at his braids that he granted her mercy and pulled away.

He sat up on his knees, pumping his cock in his hand while staring at her swollen pussy and fucked out expression. “So…fuck…such a delicious tawtute.” He hissed, glaring down at her.

She barely had time to catch a break before she was lifted and shoved down onto Spider’s cock. Spider was huge. Every time with him felt like the first time.

Spider wasn’t a talker. No, he was a grunter. Never able to stop himself from grunting and groaning whenever her tight heat would be engulfed around his cock.

Her mouth was open agape, silent moans escaping her lips, face scrunched up in pleasure. Wet smacking sound could be heard each time Spider would bounce her up and down onto cock.

Her hand rubbed tight circles around her little nub, getting herself closer to the edge.

“Mmm, you’re so cute playing with yourself like that. Such a little tawtute.”

Neteyam grinned, getting more breathless the closer he was to cumming.

He wasn’t the only one.

“Spider, I’m c-close,” She whined, chest heaving up and down.

“M-Me too. Cum for me, pretty.” He grunted behind her, bouncing her faster.

She cried out in pleasure, walls squeezing his cock tightly when she came. Her juices dripped down his shaft while he painted her insides with his seed.

Just as he pulled out of her cunt, Neteyam positioned his cock right in front of her pussy, covering it with his glowing seed.

The two men groaned in pleasure while she was a whimpering mess, trying to calm down after cumming twice.

Spider affectionately caressed her arms and sides. Neteyam hungrily stared at her pussy that was now covered in all three their cum.

A chill ran down her spine when she heard a third voice.

“That was hot. I’m taking you next, mamas.” Lo’ak already had his tweng down, stroking his cock at the sight of her cream-covered pussy.

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kelin-is-writing · 22 hours

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fwb!touya who despite your agreement on not necessarily having to stop seeing other peoples, has deleted the contacts of the two or three girls he used to occasionally hook up with, when you weren’t around, the moment you two had started your relationship and everytime he crosses paths with them at school he barely even acknowledges their existence. why? ohh that’s because the moment you, the girl he desires on a soul-type of level, has agreed to be in all this with him touya’s eyes haven’t been able to look away from you, not even for a split second.

fwb!touya who a mere call or text for you telling him how much you miss and want to see him, is enough to make him skip practices with his rock band only to run over to your place and spend time with you. be it doing homework, watching movies or those weird reality shows that secretly pique his interest, playing games that usually end up in heated makeout sessions, you putting on nail polish while he styles your hair, cooking together, napping together, having sex four or five times. just you two basically being all over each others at any given occasion. touya wanted you close to him as much as possible and he was going to have exactly that.

fwb!touya who keeps telling himself you two are just ‘friends with benefits’ but from time to time he finds himself playing the guitar, compose and writes songs while thinking about you. he would’ve never wanted to admit it, for the moment, but you’ve been his muse since the first day you guys meet and the major reason for it was your smile, your laugh, your voice… that beautiful spark in your eyes whenever you looked at him… it made his heart warm up and a pleasing emptiness take over his stomach… shit… this wasn’t good at all, he was going into a dangerous territory right there and it wasn’t supposed to happen.

fwb!touya who has never marked any girl he’s sleep with before nor has he ever permitted them to mark him, because he has never felt the need to do that with his past flings; yet it took only one week, three days, fourteen hours, thirty-two minutes and twenty-six seconds in your relationship to make him go around the campus proudly, a shit-eating grin on his face, with your glossy lipstick imprint onto the side of his neck right where everyone could see it while you walked around with his teethes’ mark on your neck; a statement dedicated to everybody in the school that told all of them he is yours and you are his.

fwb!touya who never holds back from showing off to everyone your close relationship. you could be talking to a classmate and he would walk up to you surrounding your waist with an arm, pulling you flush against his side, and ask genuinely curious and interested what you guys were talking about while leaning his cheek against your head as he hummed along to the explanation you gave him with that voice of yours that is as beautiful as you are, completely smitten and mesmerized. once you were talking with another classmate of yours, that was assigned as a committee with you for a school festival, about some preparations when he came up to you ignoring the other person’s presence and just fixing his intense gaze on you while asking if everything was alright and if you needed any help while delicately moving a strand of hair behind your ear and then rest it gently on the back of your head to let you know that it was fine to lean on him whenever things became too much.

fwb!touya who keeps telling you and himself that the two of you are just ‘friends with benefits’, but the way he fucks you, talks to you and overall treats you are far from being those of an actual ‘friends with benefits’ and he doesn’t notice until a random guy who’s a schoolmate of you two and fan of his band starts asking him about you, throws glances your way, tries (but fails) to flirt with you and touya is watching over you two seething as he smokes by the fences outside the school’s building, tomura being the one who makes him notices that he’s clenching his jaw so hard they can hear his teethes scratching together. it’s right then that he realizes that the reason he had suggested all that thing between you two wasn’t only because he was attracted to you, but because he has been in love with you the whole time since the start of your friendship.

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f0point5 · 2 days

Note

Jealous Emilia after they get together plss I am beggingggg cook this for us plssssss 🙏🙏🙏

Not me rewriting this no less than four times and still hating it 😂 but it’s not going to get any better haha. This was hard to write because I actually don’t see Emilia as the jealous type. I kind of drew off a lot of her known insecurities and alluded to her kind of struggling with the “wag” role a bit so it’s not just her reacting poorly to Max being fawned over by a girl because I don’t think that would be true to her character. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

✨Set in Jeddah 2024✨

And I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

If there’s one thing to be said for the Jeddah paddock, it’s pretty at sunset. You watch people moving through the paddock bathed in golden light. The ground looks like the yellow brick road. Even though it’s getting cooler now as it gets closer to qualifying, you still choose to sit inside Red Bull hospitality. You’re also sitting inside because Max said he wanted to hang out before quail. Even though he’s spent the last forty-five minutes talking to one of the hospitality guests.

Amy, something or other. She races GT cars in some series you’ve never heard of. You’re not sure what connections got her the invite to the garage but Max had been herded away by one of the media reps to take pictures with her so she must be someone’s daughter. They seem to have hit it off, you note. He’s in full maxplaining mode, bending down to the line of his own hand as he illustrates what looks like an apex. Amy isn’t even watching his hands, she’s watching Max. Hazel eyes just sparkling as she memorises every inch of him. Yeah, you know that look well enough.

And it’s not that you mind. He likes to talk racing, he likes racers. It’s not like you know what it feels like to driver a car at top speed, and more importantly you don’t want to know. The hot laps with Max were more than enough. You can’t be everything to him and you don’t need to be. You tell yourself you don’t want to be. It’s good he has other people to talk to, because it’s not like you can ever really understand his competitive streak. The man who knows nothing except how to win will not always be able to relate to the girl who has always been too afraid to lose.

No, it’s not bothering you that Max is talking to her. It’s bothering you that she has the most obvious crush on him since…no, actually, this is the most obvious crush ever. She’s played with her hair so many times you just know karma is going to make her bald someday. You hope you’re there somehow.

“Hey,”

You jump at the sound of Checo’s voice. He sits down at the end of the table, brandishing Kitkat, which he slides over to you.

“Max has made a new friend,” he says, nodding in Max’s direction.

You tear open the wrapper with far too much aggression. “So I see,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.

“She races, right?”

You nod, biting into the chocolate. “GT, apparently,”

“Lots in common,” Checo says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “You have to watch your back,”

You know he’s joking. You know that in no universe are you in competition with her. And yet, his words sink under your skin under your blood is curdling at the sight of Max laughing at something Amy says.

“I don’t have to watch anything,” you say with shrug, turning towards Checo. “If she can take him she can have him.” You push your hair over one shoulder and run your tongue over your teeth.

“Whoa,” Checo chuckles, throwing his hands up like he’s being faced with a hungry lion. You suppose since he has a wife, he knows the look well enough. “I was joking.” When you don’t react, he shakes his head. “It’s Max,”

You know what he means. It’s Max, not Chuck Leclerc. It’s Max, not Danny Ric. It’s Max, not Checo. But it’s Max. You don’t have to worry he’s going to lose his mind over the actresses or supermodels, but he sure seems to be respectfully admiring his female alter ego.

It’s like he can sense you thinking about him, it’s uncanny, really. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him walking towards your table with Amy in tow.

Fake smile, it’s fine, she’s just a fan.

Max introduces you, and you smile and shake her hand and ask her if she having a nice day, because you’re Max’s girlfriend, so you owe it to him to be polite. She has no such obligation, although you might be imagining her flinch when Max says the word girlfriend.

“I think it’s the best day of my life,” she says in answer to your question. The telltale flicker of her eyes in Max’s direction as they sit down almost making you roll yours.

Max doesn’t notice, he’s more interested in taking your Kitkat out of your hand and taking a bite. He bites it so that all four sticks have the end missing and you wear you’ve never been so disgusted by this man. For a second, you think Amy can have him.

“Amy races GT cars, like the ones we tested in Portugal,” he says to you now, his hand disappearing under the table to rest on your thigh and trace circles with his thumb like it’s a habit. “We are just talking about setting up a test for her with Verstappen com,”

Oh, great. So not only is she utterly bewitched by the ocean eyes, you’re making her dreams come true. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Ah,” is all you say, sharing a look with a smirking Checo.

“That would really be such a dream come true,” Amy says, and you almost laugh. “I’m a big fan of yours, I think it’s so cool that you’re involved with things outside formula one. You should come to a race sometime. I owe you paddock passes,”

You met him three hours ago, and he isn’t even the one who invited you. Do you owe him a blowjob as well, Amy?

“Yeah. Our schedule is a bit hectic but yeah, it would be good to fit that in soon,” Max says, turning to you. “Right?”

What am I? The secretary? Because in case you didn’t notice, she didn’t fucking invite me.

You just shrug.

“GT racing doesn’t exactly draw the influencer crowd,” you are definitely not imagining the way her eyes slide over to you before she looks back at Max to say, “it’s really good racing,”

You zone out right then and there. It’s like your brain short circuits from the energy it’s taking not to reach over, grab this girl by her stringy extensions, and rip. If she and Max keep talking, you don’t hear it. You don’t want to hear it. You notice Checo noticing your discomfort, even as he engages the other two in conversation. For all his quirks, Checo reads human behaviour much better than Max. Though you don’t need to be a body language expert to see how much this girl likes him.

She looking at him like she wants to eat him, hanging on unspoken words, fingers twitching on the table like she’s desperate to touch him. And he’s nodding along, because they’re so aligned that whatever she says he agrees with, and the maxplaining is one-handed now but no less enthusiastic, and you’re about to dig your nails into his skin because he is not going to have one hand almost up your skirt while another woman is flirting with him.

All these thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of one of the Red Bull media managers.

“Amy, we were hoping to get some pictures of you with the car, if you’re free?”

“Yeah, sure, one second,” she says, turning to Max. “Which way is the garage again?” Like she doesn’t have someone who clearly just came from the garage standing right next to her.

“Just through there, keep going straight,” Max says, pointing to the corridor with engineers walking in and out. You give the girl the benefit of the doubt that she’s not that stupid, just desperate.

Reluctantly, she gets to her feet. “So, I’ll give you a call to set up the test?”

“Yeah, sure,” Max says. “Or you can call Raymond. He’ll put your team in touch with the right people,”

“Okay, awesome,” she says, leaning down enough that you can see right down her shirt. “It was really great to meet you. And I meant it about the GT race,” and then, as if remembering she can’t be rude, she glances at Checo. “You guys, too,”

You wave her off, and your smile doesn’t even fall. Because it’s funny. It’s funny that a grown woman would behave like that in front of a man’s girlfriend. It’s funny that a woman gunning for sponsorship would behave like you does regular shifts in something called the “Champagne Room”.

And it’s absolutely hilarious that Max turns to you, without a care in the world, and says, “I’ve got such a headache. I stood up into the cupboard in the garage, it hurt so bad,”

You give him tight smile and pull out your phone to text Lily to see if she’s still with Alex or if she’s free for a catch up.

“What?” You hear Max say above you. You ignore him. “What? She the-“ You look up just in time to see that Checo is mouthing something to Max. “Jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” you snap, leaning back in the your chair to glare at both of them. They give each a mocking grin. “Yeah, very funny,” this sets them off snickering like school kids. “Fuck both of you.”

You get up and stalk through the room and back towards the garage. You don’t even know what you’ll do when you get there since being Max’s girlfriend had put an end to you just wandering down the pitlane and allowed in any garage. Maybe you’ll just try and find GP. If Max doesn’t catch up to you first. You can hear him calling you.

“Leibling, wait,” he’s right behind you now, and you hear him almost stumbling as he leans forward to catch you by the wrist.

You shrug him off, but stop at the door to his driver room and push it open, jerking your head to order him inside. He may be a dick, but he still deserve for the whole team to know his business. He steps into the room, reaching for your waist but you move out of his way and leave him to close the door while you lean against the physio table on the other side of the room.

He sighs when he sees how you’re looking at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I mean, I did. Not at you. I didn’t think Checo was being serious,” he defends, and by the end of his sentence he’s fighting an incredulous smile and you squeeze the edge of the physio bench to stop yourself pulling your hair. Or his.

How can this guy understand complex tyre strategy but not basic human interaction?

“You didn’t think he was serious that I was annoyed by someone flirting with you in front of me?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow. “And that I wouldn’t be annoyed at you making fun of me for it?”

Max scoffs. “She wasn’t flirting with me,”

“Oh, please.” You let out a scoff of your own. “You didn’t notice me flirting with you for three years, do not pretend you’re an expert,”

“I noticed,” Max argues, “I just didn’t take it seriously,”

“Which is why you have no leg to stand on,”

“Right, because I was just supposed to believe that you suddenly-“

“It wasn’t exactly sudden-“

“For God’s sake,” Max groans, an expression of abject confusion twisting his face. “What are we even fighting about?”

“You enjoying Lella Lombardi over there slobber all over you, and enjoying it,” the exasperation gets worse when Max’s eyes widen like this is the first he’s hearing of this entire discussion.

“I’m- she- what?” He splutters, his head shaking in disbelief. “Is this one of those Tiktok pranks?”

“I get that she’s a pilot and that makes her automatically interesting, but until I hear otherwise, you’re still in a relationship,”

Max looks at you like you’ve grown a second head; shock, concern, and a good amount of unadulterated disgust. “You can’t think I was looking at her…like that,”

The way he says it, like he’s afraid to catch cooties, like it’s it’s inconceivable, like you didn’t still have bruises of your hips in the shape of his fingertips, takes all the fight out of you. Checo was right; it’s Max. It’s feels like someone’s let all the air out of a balloon. Your shoulders slump and you sigh.

“Because that would be crazy?” You lift yourself onto the physio bench as you speak. You’re not even really sure what you’re asking. “Max Verstappen, who likes only one thing on earth, that one thing being racing, attracted to another driver rather than his influencer accessory girlfriend?”

“Actually, I like two things,” he says with that boyish smirk that has been making your stomach do backflips for longer than you care to admit.

“Stop laughing at me,” you whine, fighting the urge to smile.

“I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that she upset you. I’m sorry that I upset you,” he says, taking a careful step closer to you, but he stops there. “Even if I don’t know what I did,”

He really has no idea. He is painfully, adorably clueless.

“Nothing,” you say, because you don’t know either. Sometimes it’s just inexplicably overwhelming being Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. “Just you being you, I guess,”

Max frowns at that. “I didn’t know being myself was so offensive,” he mumbles, and you instantly feel guilty. You of all people shouldn’t make him feel bad for how much space he takes up. You of all people know how much that bothers him.

“No, it’s not that. It’s not-“ you struggle for a way to explain it. Max takes the opportunity to cross the rest of the room and stand in front of you, his expression telling you he’s waiting for you to finish. “It’s not about who you are, but sometimes the way people act around you is just…and you’re so used to it, you don’t even…you just forget who you are sometimes, Max,”

He nods soberly. “Yeah. I do, and I’m sorry,” he says. He hooks his hands under your knees and pulls your legs apart and slots between them as he drags you to the edge of the bench so that you’re pressed against him, leaning back to look up at him. “But I never forget who you are, which is the most important bit,”

You can’t help but smile at him. He’s so simple. And not because he’s unintelligent, but because he’s guileless, because who he is has never scared him. He smiles back, and it’s unguarded and unbridled and you almost forgive that girl because you’ll be damned if you don’t have a crush on him, too.

“Was she really flirting with me?” He asks curiously, looking down as his hands find your and entwine your fingers.

“Oh, yeah,” you say, and he frowns, the wheels working in head as he tries to figure out how he didn’t notice. “Like me at your mum’s on Christmas Eve in 2020 level of obvious,”

“Well,” he says with a huff. “She just blew her chance at a test,”

“You don’t have to-“

“Wait, you were flirting with me at Christmas at my mum’s?”

#max verstappen x reader

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harrysbelovedd · 13 hours

Text

casual [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - when you hook up with your best friend rafe on a drunken night after a party, you can’t stop thinking about it. but rafe, is doing everything he can to stay casual.

warnings - cursing, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort

Sitting at the island club with the warm sun hitting my face is usually one of my favorite activities in the summer on Figure Eight. But ever since I hooked up with my best friend three days ago, I’ve been dreading this event my parents dragged me to.

I sip quietly on my fruity drink, tuning out the sound of my parents mingling with the other guests. That is until, I hear the unmistakable sound of the Camerons walking in to the club.

My head turns at the sound of Rafe speaking lowly to his father as they walk in. Rafe stands next to Ward, seemingly angry at his father but—when isn’t he. On the other side of Ward is Rose, smiling brightly and saying hello to everyone. Sarah and Wheezie trail behind, Sarah running off to talk to Pope who is working catering with his dad.

Rafe looks over at my family’s table, his jaw softening from the tension his father caused when he sees me. I smile softly at him, waving him over.

What he does next throws me for a loop. Instead of smiling back and coming to sit with me, or drag me away from all this—he completely ignores me. He turns around and goes to sit at the Cameron table.

My heart drops and I swallow my nerves roughly, excusing myself to go to the bathroom. I wander through the club inside, being occasionally stopped by my parent’s friends making small talk and greeting me.

When I finally reach the bathroom I shut the door behind me and look into the mirror, finally allowing the tears to escape my eyes.

I knew we shouldn’t have hooked up. I knew it would ruin everything. Change everything. But the one thing I didn’t think of was that he would blatantly ignore me. We’ve been best friends since we were kids and he’s always protected me, been there for me, cared for me.

And now we hook up one night when we’re both drunk—and he acts like all of that means nothing. Regardless of how he feels about us hooking up, our friendship means something—everything.

I hear a knock at the door and quickly wipe my tears and reach into my purse to fix my makeup. When I open the door, I see Rafe. He smiles almost sympathetically which only makes me more angry.

“Hey, I-“

I scoff, bumping my shoulder into him as I push past him. He follows behind, “Y/n? Can we just talk please?”

“My bad, I figured you didn’t want to after you completely ignored me,” I say sarcastically, walking through the part of the club where no one is occupying.

He grabs onto my wrist, pulling me close to him. I push against his chest, trying to get away but his strength keeps me close. “Let go, Rafe!”

“Will you stop being so fucking immature,” He spits. “I couldn’t talk to you out there with everyone. We needed to be away, that’s why I ignored you.”

“Right,” I respond, my voice sharp as knives as I avoid his eye contact.

He sighs, loosening his grip. “Look, okay. We can’t—“ He presses his lips together, seeming to look for the right words. “We can’t do this. We have to forget about it, okay? It never happened. Just be casual,” He shrugs.

My eyes brim with tears, “Be casual.” I whisper. “Be fucking casual?!” I push hard against his chest.

“Yes, Y/n! This will never work, don’t you realize that? We need to just—just forget about it, okay?! It’s going to ruin our friendship if we don’t.” He explains.

I shake my head, tears rolling down my cheeks. “How am I supposed to be casual when you kissed me like that? The things you said to me that night? We may have been drunk but I remember every second of it. It’s burned into my mind, Rafe. It might be easy for you to forget—“

He scoffs, “You don’t think I remember every touch? Every kiss—everything?! I do, trust me. But this just—it won’t work. And I don’t want to lose you.”

His confession should be comforting, but it just feels like he stabbed me in the heart. I swallow roughly, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. “You just did, Rafe.”

I turn around and head straight for the front door. I hop into my car and drive home, never wanting to see Rafe again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I stare at my dark ceiling, fighting to sleep after tonight. But the only thing I can think about, is what I’m trying to forget. Rafe.

I close my eyes again, turning to the side and trying to force sleep.

I hear the sound of something at my window, a tapping sound. I get up and slowly walk to the window, peeking out of the curtains.

I see Rafe, leaning against a tree in my front yard as he jumps up, tossing rocks at my window. I sigh, opening the curtains all the way and then the window.

I stick my head out and look down at Rafe. He smiles, dropping the rest of the pebbles in his hand to the ground.

“Can you let me in?” He pleads.

“No.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, um, I’m sorry. I fucked up, Y/n. It’s never been casual with you, and it never will be. You’re the only person on this fucking island I care about. I’d do anything for you, anything to get you back. I-“ He pauses, finding the words to continue. “I love you too much to lose you that easy. I’m just so terrified of hurting you. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. This is all new to me, but I want to try.”

I close the window and pace out of my room, running down the stairs and out the front door. Rafe stands outside, staring at my window in defeat. But when he hears the door open, he smiles, watching me walk toward him.

“So.. what’re you saying, Rafe?” I ask when I stop in front of him.

He steps closer, cradling my face in his palms. “I don’t want to be casual. I want you to be mine. Please, give me another chance. I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you but I’ll spend every day making it up to you.”

A tear rolls down my cheek, his thumb quickly wiping it away. My hands trail around his neck as I stare into his eyes. He means it, every word. I can tell. One of the perks of knowing him so well.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He smiles.

I nod, and before I could even process it—his lips are on mine. His thumbs rub along my cheeks as he cradles my face, pulling me impossibly close. This kiss is different than the ones we shared when we hooked up. It’s a kiss that feels, infinite. One I know that I’ll be able to share forever, not just one night.

A kiss that is completely un-casual.

#rafe cameron #obx fic #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fluff #rafe obx #rafe cameron blurb #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron smut

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loveyouanyway · 23 hours

Text

i'll kiss your scars

buck x eddie | 900 words | teen rating

prompt: trans buck for @steadfastsaturnsrings 🥰 💖

“But y-you like men.” “Yes I do. Particularly the amazing and gorgeous man in front of me.” Buck stumbles across his words, all flustered. “But Eddie, I’m not— like I don’t have a you know.” He glances down there. “That doesn’t make you any less of a man, Buck." or Buck tells Eddie that he's trans and things change between them, but for the better.

read on ao3 or below :)

Buck, Eddie and Christopher are enjoying their dinner together in comfortable silence.

Christopher finishes his plate of spaghetti and meatballs first and now that he’s not eating, the silence feels weird so he speaks up.

“I’m not the only Christopher in my class anymore.”

Eddie hums. “Oh new student?”

“Nope. His name used to be Chloe but now it’s Christopher.”

Eddie and Buck look to each other in understanding.

“So he’s…”

“Trans. Yeah, it’s not a big deal, Dad. Now people just call me Chris and him Christopher.”

“How did people react?” Buck asks curiously.

“Everyone was cool about it. Some people had questions though so Christopher answered them. Then Mr. Nolan told everyone that he will not tolerate any transphobia or homophobia but he’s happy to tell us more about it. And if we ever have to talk to him about it, we can.”

Buck blinks back tears thinking how happy he is that in school, kids can come out and people will be supportive or at least respectful enough that they won’t say anything negative. He thinks about how bad it would be if he came out in middle school. He’s so glad Christopher has a teacher like Mr. Nolan.

He should probably tell Eddie that he’s trans. It’s been over a year since they’ve been friends. He knows Eddie will be accepting and everything but it’s still difficult. He doesn’t want anything to change between them.

“Buck?” Eddie and nudges his foot with his own under the table.

“You okay?” he asks.

Buck quickly nods. “Yeah no I’m good.”

Eddie thankfully doesn’t push and instead asks what movie they should watch tonight.

—

They watch Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse and Buck suggests they watch the second one next movie night which Christopher enthusiastically agrees to.

Christopher gets ready for bed reluctantly and Buck reads him a chapter of Percy Jackson. Eddie watches them with a sickening fond smile.

Once the chapter’s done, he and Eddie both hug Christopher and tell him “good night” and Buck yearns for him to have this every night.

They walk into the living room and Buck plops onto the couch with a sigh.

Eddie sits down next to Buck and faces him.

“Hey, you know that you can tell me anything, right?” he says earnestly with his stupidly pretty eyes looking him in the eye.

Buck breaks eye contact and nods. “Yeah of course, uh thanks.”

Eddie doesn’t reply as if he’s hoping Buck will say more.

“Just give me a moment.” he adds and to that Eddie hums and rests his hand on Buck’s thigh. Oh god. This isn’t helping his nerves.

Buck takes a deep breath. “I’m trans.”

A second passes.

“Thanks for telling me.” Eddie smiles, trying to act like he didn’t know this but Buck sees past it.

“You already knew. How?”

“I saw your testosterone gel thing in the bathroom once. I guess you forgot to put it away like you usually do,” Eddie answers softly.

“You’re not mad I didn’t tell you?”

“Of course not, Buck. You don’t owe me anything regarding that.”

“We’ve been best friends for months.”

“Yeah well did I come out to you as cis? No. Besides gender is fucking stupid. Am I even a man?”

Buck sighs. He supposes Eddie has a valid point.

“Uh, while we’re talking about more serious topics, I have something to tell you,” Eddie admits.

Buck doesn’t have enough time to panic before Eddie calmly says “I’m in love with you.”

Is this a fucking dream? Buck doesn’t know what to say. “I- What do you mean?”

Eddie continues, “Yeah that was one of the factors in the whole me discovering my sexuality process. Hen called me out so many times about my gay panic for you.”

“But y-you like men.”

“Yes I do. Particularly the amazing and gorgeous man in front of me.”

Buck stumbles across his words, all flustered. “But Eddie, I’m not— like I don’t have a you know.” He glances down there.

“That doesn’t make you any less of a man, Buck. I know how I feel about you. I love you beyond your body but I mean, I really love your body and I hope I can make you feel safe and comfortable with it.”

Yeah this is a fucking dream come true.

Eddie lifts up the bottom of his shirt. “Can I…”

Buck has no idea what he’s about to do but he’ll let Eddie do anything to him. That probably should be concerning but he doesn’t care.

“Yeah,” he says with a shaky breath.

Eddie gently takes Buck’s shirt (which actually belonged to Eddie originally) and looks at him with such adoration, it makes Buck want to cry.

He lowers his head and brings his lips to Buck’s top surgery scars. He softly kisses along the two lines, whispering “I love you” after each kiss.

Now Buck is crying. He is just so overwhelmed with love—both his love for Eddie and feeling so loved by Eddie. He manages to say, “I love you” back before the tears make unable to speak coherently

Of course Eddie understands and doesn’t tell him “No it’s okay don’t cry,” instead he embraces him into a hug that makes Buck feel all warm and fuzzy — like all hugs from Eddie do.

They stay there, holding each other and Buck realizes things have changed between them but in the best way possible.

#also yeah at first i just put mr nolan and then i was gonna change it but i couldn't come up with anything so i am christopher's teacher 😌#nolan writes #my fics #buddie fic #911 fic #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #trans buck #buck and eddie #buck x eddie

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flipidifloppody · 2 days

Text

simon says 𐬿 c.sturniolo

summary: an innocent game of simon says but it takes a bit so innocent turn..

pairing: dom chris sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: smut, NSFW, pet names, degrading, sexual content, hair pulling, oral!(f receiving), backshots..

now playing

simon says- YC banks, B. smyth

00:00------2:44

"let's play a game called simon says"

"SHIT" i heard from down stairs and assumed it was chris' voice as i have known him for quite awhile, we have had a very jokingly flirty relationship but i never saw it that way. i quickly made my way down the stairs to see a pile of games on the floor and chris being over dramatic and rolling on the floor as i assume he had hurt himself somehow. i roll my eyes and let out a quick chuckle before going over to chris, "what happened here" i say with a playfulish voice.

"fucking stupid games fell on me i only wanted simon says" he says in an annoyed tone, i let out a breathy laugh and held my hand out for him to help him up. "who were you planning to play that with?" i look up at him waiting for an answer, "i was gonna ask you but no need to now is there?"

"just us what about we get madi and the others to come play to, i'm pretty sure you can't play simon says as a two player" he nods his head and makes his way into the massive living room of madis, i placed the box in the middle of the floor without saying anything and everyone nodded knowing what i was suggesting. Nick opened the box and looked up at the instructions and then back down at the game and then taking it out the box and placing down the cards next to it. "who wants to go first?" he asks looking around for any volunteers.

"i will" i say confidently thinking this wasn't gonna be that hard but god was i wrong. i quickly picked up a card and read it in my head. "is this supposed to be a dirty game?" i look up to a bunch of grinning faces

"how didn't you know" chris smirked, i look at him then back at the card and read it out loud,

"go into a room alone for 15 minutes with the person to your left" the person to my left was... chris. i look around the room and gulp. is this really happening?

"you gonna do it or what?" a random voice says from the other side of the room, i have no clue who it was because there was like 15 people at madis house since we were meant to have a get together or some shit i don't know i just came coz the triplets brought me. "go have fun" i heard matt say chuckling , i look at chris who was already getting up and waiting for me. i hesitantly got up and questioned myself. what if this ruins our friendship? what if he doesn't like it? what if, what if there's so many what if's i couldn't count them all. he was quick leading me into a spare room while the rest just watched us walk in and then as soon as we're out of sight they went back to playing the game as if it was normal.

i was soon to find out that that game was not a dirty game but that they got a different card from a dirty game and put it in the simon says box to get me and chris with each other because they thought there was some sort of 'sexual tension' or whatever.

my eyes widened when i was pushed against a wall by chris his hand resting on the top of my hips and his head in the crook of my neck, "you don't know how long i've wanted to do this for"

my breath hitches in my throat as i take a deep breath coz tonight we're gonna make a mess. i don't even know if i was mentally prepared for this i mean fucking my bestfriend? yeah, i mean it's not like i haven't fucked anyone before, same with chris but us together, it's like completely drifferent. i was comfortable with his and whatever but it just makes me feel weird. knowing that we basically grew up in madis house together because we'd always come here to hang out and now we're fucking in it? it's crazy.

he presses our lips together in a soft but hungry kiss sliding his tongue over and past my teeth to deepen it but before i could return the favour he broke it and started kissing and grazing down my jaw to my collarbone, which allowed me to let out a soft moan at the pleasure. he grinned against my skin hearing those noises that he created.

"love those sounds princess, wonder if i could make you make more?" i nodded quickly and looked down on him slowly playing with the hem of my shirt, "think you could take this of for me, beautiful?" i hum in acceptance as soon as he hears me he's quick to take of my shirt in one quick motion,i was wearing a hoodie and wasn't wearing a bra since i was literally just asleep, he stared at my chest, which made me feel nervous and i brought up my arms to cover my chest.

chris grabbed my arms and brought them back down to my sides. "no keep them there, your gorgeous."

a nervous smirk played on my face as i let out a shaky breath and just watched him, he took one of my nipples in his mouth and brushed the other one with the pads of his thumb. my head banged slightly against the wall, enough for it to hurt slightly but not enough for me to be in pain. i didn't care if it did or didn't really all i cared about was where this night was going to take us.

he trailed his fingers down my body and stopping right above the waistband of my shorts before switching his mouth to my other nipple. he hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of my shorts and panties in one swift motion and took them off. but before even looking down or anything he brought us over to the bed close by to the door, and placed me on it. he stood over me just admiring my body before muttering ,"all mine." my cheeks went a bright pink and i screwed my eyes shut so i wouldn't have to be as nervous as i was before

he knelt down between my thighs and started kissing and licking stripes down my inner thighs, sending shivers down my spine. my eyes opened wide when i felt his tongue flicking up and down my folds, "already so wet for me and i haven't even done anything yet"

he sucked and nipped on my swollen clit, letting a moan slip from my throat and my eyes to screw shut again, before he stuck two fingers into my heat, overstimulating me more and more by the second. he curled his fingers every time he thrusted them into me, hitting the perfect spot over and over, almost pushing me over the edge.

"mm' close" as soon as i said those words he stopped all of his actions and stood back up, licking around his mouth and sucking my juices of his fingers. fuck.. this was not right i know it wasn't but it felt right. he leaned over me and met my mouth again in a hungry, opened mouthed kiss which soon lost its rhythm and became sloppy. he pulled away and pulled his shirt over his head. "simon says get on all fours"

i do exactly as he tells me to and quickly turn around and put my ass up in the air, "what a shame no other guys will be able to see this pretty ass of yours, it's all mine isn't it?"

i nod barely being able to get any words out due to the fact i was about to cum but i didn't, "words princess, i need words otherwise i won't do anything"

"fuck yes chris i'm yours!" i say quickly trying to keep it paced, he nods in satisfaction before quickly undoing his belt and letting it drop on to the floor along with his pants, he steps out of them and kicks them to the side, he slides of his boxers, which leaves him fully bare, i've never ever seen him so bare in my life bare in mind i've known him my full life and we're both 20.

his cock slaps against his lower chest as he strokes it a few times and he holds his hand out infront of me gesturing me to spit. i collect a wad of spit in my mouth and spit it onto his hand. he spreads it thoroughly in his cock before slowly sliding into me allowing me to adjust

i knew chris was big.. but not this big. i let chris know i was fully adjusted by giving him a quick nod, he started of slow and picked up his pace. taking his time. "chris please.."

"what have i said about using words? please what?" he said cockily, "please go faster.." he chuckled slightly and took a chunk of my hair in his fists pulling it back ever so slightly trying his hardest not to hurt me. he picked up his pace finally almost tipping me over the edge. i've been waiting for this all night and it's now just happening. my mind went blank and foggy, the pleasure was washing over me like anything. it was like i was in a complete new dimension, but no i was in a random bedroom fucking my bestfriend. "almost there.." i said slightly above a whisper, he didn't reply just kept going until i finally released. my cunt spasming on his cock releasing all around him.

"gonna cum allover this pretty back of yours that okay baby?" i nod in allowance as he pulls out of me letting white streaks of white spurt all over my back making patterns.

he collapses next to me, "that was instense" he says panting slightly. "trust me i know"

"that was a little longer than 15 minutes don't ya think?"

a/n: hey i made this one a little longer, i'm working on the matt series it'll probably be out some time this week when i'm motivated or smth just thought i'd write this to get me more into writing the series

@sturnsfav @guccifrog @hoesformatt @chrisownsmyheart @strawberrysturniolo @lovingmattysposts @worldlxvlys @astrolynnworld @sturnioloslurps

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader

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pomefioredove · 3 hours

Note

sorry if you dont do platonic/kid reader posts but could you do headcannons of the dormleaders with a younger teen yuu (13-14) who had a bad homelife before and they see him as their older brother? like they come to his room crying and asking him to hold them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! thank you and i love your work!! ^_^ <3

I very gladly do platonic and familial requests <3 I myself feel more platonic towards most of the characters ^_^

summary: housewardens adopting you as their younger sibling type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: platonic, yuu is gender neutral

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

believe it or not, Riddle is a pretty good brother

especially to someone from a home life similar to his

I suppose he recognizes it immediately; just sees pieces of himself in you

and I honestly believe he has a soft spot for younger people, even with his temperament

it's no secret that he favors you over everyone else

(even if he'd insist he treats everyone equally)

he lets you get away with things anyone else would be collared for

he pesters you about letting him help with your homework

you're invited to every Heartslabyul event

so on and so forth

and, much to everyone else's astonishment, he's always there for you to lean on

had bad day? failed an assignment? were being picked on? had a nightmare about your home?

well, that just can't do

he'll have you two freshly baked tarts and tea ready within minutes

and, of course, he'll gladly lend a hug if that's what you need

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

it's no secret that Leona's home life isn't exactly dreamy, either

and his relationship with his brother isn't ideal

in fact, the very idea of having another sibling- especially a younger one- used to make him cringe

but... okay, he'll admit that you're alright

what? he's not heartless

and he just can't stand to see you struggling like a prey animal

so, sure, he'll take you under his wing

just until you get on your feet, that is! don't expect any special treatment from him just because he was feeling generous today

he's basically no help with anything practical

homework to do? not his thing

boy/girl trouble? don't you have any friends you could ask?

he'll give out advice when you need it, but Leona's got this idea that you need to figure things out for yourself, too

it's his strange way of... raising you?

(don't ask him why. he'll just get annoyed)

but if there's one thing he's really good at, it's providing that much-needed physical comfort

in his eyes, all he has to do is lie there

and he'll gladly give you a hug or a cuddle if it'll wipe that mopey look off your face

(don't listen to him; he really does worry sometimes)

𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨

his first reaction to you and your closeness is "what do you want?"

not in a rude way, mind you; when you first meet, he sees you as an excellent business opportunity

after all, you're leagues behind everyone else in school matters; and he has a helping hand to offer.

at a price, of course

and then, as time goes on and it becomes more and more obvious that you're not looking for anything but company... well...

sure, you're all alone here

sure, you remind him way too much of himself at a younger age

but why is that his problem? haven't you heard what everyone else says about him? he's shady! untrustworthy!

and... oh, sevens. he just can't bring himself to turn you away

what was once a business venture turns into a friendship

best friend/brother Azul is insanely overprotective

even though he doesn't show it, he's constantly worrying; are the other students nice to you? are they including you? is everyone treating you fairly?

will send Jade and Floyd to keep an eye on you when he's extra anxious

it takes some time for him to adjust to the idea of you being able to take care of yourself

but, still...

he makes it clear that on those days, the ones where you feel like running and hiding from the world, his door is open

you can come hide with him, instead

free of charge, of course

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐥-𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐦

he adopts you immediately

literally just can't help himself; he sees you looking lost on your first day of classes and immediately takes you under his wing

Kalim already has a lot of younger siblings, he's used to this

anything you need, he's got it

hungry? he's already had snacks prepared

feeling homesick? he'll find you something to remind you of home

struggling with school? well... Jamil can help with that!

once word gets back to his family, they basically adopt you, too

no need to worry about having a home to go back to over breaks; his family has multiple!

he will never shut up about how great you are; literally introduces you to everyone as his younger sibling

treasures everything you give him and keeps it forever

and on your worst days, he's there for you then, too

as stated, Kalim has lots of younger siblings, he knows how it goes- and he makes a surprisingly good comforter

his hugs are always the best, too

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

Vil already has a sort of motherly thing going on for him

he may be strict, but he's nurturing above all

and much like Kalim, he takes you under his care right away

you're still young, after all- and he knows you're not emotionally mature enough to handle all the chaos of NRC on your own

plus... well, he wants to leave an impression on you

after all, the sooner you start good habits, the likelier they'll stick

(he already has your skincare regimen ready)

it's the least he can do to help... you always seem very stressed, don't you? he wonders why that is

but he never pushes for answers, of course

he makes sure you're well acquainted with everyone from the dorm, too, so that everyone can keep an eye out for you

being Vil's favorite has its perks; soon, you're well-liked by anyone from Pomefiore

and friendly with most of them, too

(just don't let Epel influence you too much)

and Vil is always there; he makes plenty of time in his week just to speak to you

he wants to make sure you're adjusting well, after all

and any problems you have, he'll deal with personally

𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝

it's more likely that Ortho bonded with you and took you in first

after all, you're closer in age than anyone else at school

you may even share a few interests!

but, of course, Idia's initial reaction was No. "Ortho, you can't just pick up random kids off the side of the road,"

...so to speak.

but somehow, you keep ending up in his dorm room to hang out

he avoids you at first, but the longer you're around, the more accumulated he'll become

when it gets to the point where he's teaching you how to play all his favorite games, it's so over for him

he's fallen right into Ortho's trap

much like Azul, Idia is a liiiittle overprotective

he's had some less than ideal experiences with siblings, after all

so maybe he's a little bit of a helicopter mom

that is, constantly watching you because he's deathly worried something's going to happen to you

(it takes a lot of convincing from Ortho before he relaxes a little)

and, of course, his doors are always open

he'll even pause his game if you come in looking upset

he just can't focus when you're all sad like that, see? now come inside and tell him what's wrong before he starts overthinking and goes into anxiety mode

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚

Malleus has had enough experience with children. according to himself, anyway

he was somewhat of a brother to Silver, and holds Sebek in... a slightly similar regard

but somehow, you're completely different

for one; you're magicless, and thus can't defend yourself like everyone else can

for another; you come from a different world

and you seem very reluctant on sharing details about your past

which just confuses Malleus. are you worried he will judge you for not having any magical abilities? surely, you must trust him better than that?

it's really Lilia who's able to guess that you had a rough home life. just something about the way you conduct yourself- he's seen it before

he asks Malleus to be gentle with you, and not to pry too much

which he seems to accept

much like the aforementioned, he's a little overprotective

okay, a lot overprotective

he holds those he views as family very close to him, and you're no exception

you're invited to every Diasomnia event, Silver and Lilia pitch in on all your tutoring needs, and no one would dare mess with the beloved younger sibling of Malleus Draconia

although he still makes an effort to understand all of your emotional needs

he gladly accepts all hugs and cuddles, too

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #queued

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onceuponapuffin · 1 day

Text

Fanatic Intervention Part 9!!

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

You pound your way to the nearest bar, where everyone had agreed to meet. The three of them are standing around, talking over glasses of wine. Your hands are in fists, your nails digging into your palms as you approach. They acknowledge you as you enter their field of vision, but you say nothing. Instead, you beeline for Aziraphale, put your arms around him, and hang on for dear life. Sometimes you just need to hug an angel.

There’s a pause where Anathema says something about your aura, and then Aziraphale hugs you back.

Dear Reader, I’m not sure if it ever happened in your life, but for this Puffin there came a time when it was made very clear that wanting to be held or wanting to lean on another person in public was unacceptable (and, in fact, embarrassing) once you reached a certain age. And yet, we as humans are social creatures. The need to be held is a very normal response, especially after something particularly upsetting happens (like having the sanctity of washroom privacy violated, for example). Perhaps you’re not the kind of person who, out of nowhere, feels the desire to be held, but perhaps you know someone who is. And so, I would like to impress upon you the incredible difference it makes, the immeasurable relief it brings, to know that you have someone with you who will hold you back without question or comment. Just hold you, and wait.

Aziraphale makes it clear he intends to do just that.

“Take your time, dear,” he says gently. And so you do.

After a moment, the clink of a glass next to you makes you look up. Someone has given you a glass of the same wine everyone else has. You pull away and take a sip, feeling much calmer and very grateful.

“Thanks,” You say.

“Anytime,” Aziraphale replies.

“What happened?” Anathema asks.

Thus, you recount how Metatron trapped you in the washroom until he had said his peace. By the time you finish, there are three very angry faces around you. You feel validated enough to take another, much larger, sip of the wine. Aziraphale is the first to speak.

“Well for starters, I invite you to stay in my bookshop however long you like. Pet indeed! You are a help, yes, but you are a guest, and certainly not disposable, whatever he says.”

“And,” Crowley adds, “From what you said, Aziraphale and I can get you home whenever you want anyway. Probably, I mean. No dUbIOus motives involved, at least.”

Anathema seems to be thinking. After another few seconds, she asks:

“Why did you take the coffee?”

You all look at her, surprised.

“Well I mean,” she continues, “If the Metatron wants to know, he probably has a reason. If you tell us, maybe we can figure it out for ourselves and find a way around it.”

“Or they could just not tell him,” Crowley suggests with snark. “Then it doesn’t matter.”

“I mean, it might,” Anathema counters, “We don’t know that it doesn’t.”

“I took it because of the Coffee Theory,” You say with a shrug. It’s not like it’s a big deal. “But I mean, I don’t know why that would matter to him.”

“Well,” Anathema says, “That might depend on what the Coffee Theory is.”

“Well, it’s the idea that the Metatron did something to that coffee he was going to give Aziraphale. To, like, make Aziraphale trust him, or listen to him or whatever, so that he would go back to Heaven.” You pause. “There’s also an interpretation of it where it was a metaphor like ‘take my offer or face death.’ But most people think about the first one, and that’s the one that was in my brain when I did it. There aren’t a lot of people who actually believe it. I mean, not anymore, anyway.”

“So you think the Metatron drugged Aziraphale’s coffee?” Anathema raises an eyebrow. “And you drank it, yes? So...did he?”

“No,” You reply, “It was exactly what it was supposed to be. An oat milk latte with almond syrup. And I didn’t think he actually messed with it. I just wasn’t willing to take the chance, that’s all.”

Crowley’s face scrunches. “And you think he might need to know that for some reason?” He looks pointedly at Anathema.

“He might,” She gives a thoughtful hum. “I’ll think about it. I might ask the Cards later.”

-----------

The wait for boarding didn’t feel so long after that. As you board, you notice how spacious First Class is. Aziraphale and Crowley sit in the seats ahead of you and Anathema, with Aziraphale in the window seat. You notice Crowley casually trying to stick his legs out into the aisle and wonder vaguely whether it’s because he needs the space, or to try and trip the flight attendants. Both? Probably both. Okay, definitely both, you note, as a stewardess almost falls face-first into the aisle. Aziraphale gently swats at Crowley in reprimand, but you can tell it’s half-hearted and wholly-fond.

Your only trouble comes when you need to use the washroom, but Anathema, ever clever and aura-observant, suggests to go with you so that you can knock if anything goes wrong. Thankfully, nothing does, and you both return to your seats.

“You know,” Anathema says, leaning forward, “I just overheard the strangest thing. It seems that all of the normal airline food on this plane has gone missing. All that they have to serve is the first-class food.”

“Wait,” You say, holding back a laugh, “So everyone on this flight gets to eat the fancy, chef-prepared, gourmet meals?”

Crowley doesn’t hold back his laugh. “Oh, the big bosses won’t like that!”

“You two wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?” Anathema asks suspiciously. You notice she’s smiling while she says it.

“Psh!” Crowley waves away the thought. “Why would I? Doesn’t matter to me either way.”

“Honestly, Miss Device,” Aziraphale adds, “I have no idea why you immediately accuse us of something that seems so clearly to be a mere...clerical error.”

Ah-ha! Culprit found. Clerical error your arse.

“You know,” You sigh, “It really is no wonder why Crowley loves you so much.”

“Ngk,” says Crowley. Aziraphale responds with a pleased-sounding hum. You relax, and notice between the seats that Aziraphale places his hand on top of Crowley’s and leaves it there.

They like holding hands – your insides scream.

--------

When you disembark from the plane, you hear all the other passengers around you complimenting the flight attendants on the excellent food and promising to leave excellent reviews online. You keep your laughter as quiet as you can. Aziraphale’s little prank is going to cause the airline issues for YEARS. Crowley must be so proud.

The speed and ease with which you clear customs and baggage claim is probably because you’re traveling with two supernatural entities. In no time at all, you’re outside of the airport flagging down a cab. Crowley opens the door with enthusiasm and outright glee.

“After you, Angel,” he says, “You think 90 miles an hour in London is bad, I can’t wait for you to see this!”

Dear Reader, I don’t know if you have ever been to New York City, but I assure you that Crowley’s driving has nothing on the NYC cabbies. Aziraphale spends the entire drive trying to hold on to something and taking deep breaths as the cab violently jerks to a stop millimeters from the car in front. You suggest he close his eyes. He does. It doesn’t seem to help.

-------

The taxi lets you out in front of The Ritz. Because of course you’re staying at The Ritz. Aziraphale goes to check in while Crowley tells Anathema he needs the washroom, and mutters to you that he wants to empty all the soap dispensers. You try so hard to hold in your laughter that it comes out your nose anyway. The demon flashes you a cheeky grin before disappearing around the corner. Anathema looks at you.

“Probably been a while since he had a fresh audience,” You say to her. She chuckles.

“And you’re so obliging too. No doubt he’s having a great time with all this.”

“Hey, Anathema,” You begin uncertainly, “How...I mean...I’m just worried about...things. How are we going to find Jesus anyway? I just...I don’t really have anymore information to give. I don’t even know if he’s going to be a baby or an adult this time.”

“Hm...” Anathema thinks for a minute, “Well, I’m going to try and get some readings, see if I can get some kind of direction for us to go in. It’s a big country, but what I’m hoping is that it will sort of work like dowsing.”

“Dowsing? Like looking for water with sticks?”

“Sort of. In a nutshell, you pay attention to the vibrations in the Earth, and the closer you get, the stronger the vibrations become. It makes sense to think that Jesus would make pretty noticeable vibrations. That’s my working hypothesis anyway.”

You nod. That will do for now. Aziraphale and Crowley both return, with the demon wiping his hands on his trousers, and the four of you take the elevator to your room.

The Royal Suite.

“Are...you….serious??” Anathema asks. Honestly, you’re too stunned looking around the enormous suite with four bedrooms to say anything. It’s bigger than most houses. You take out your phone and start taking pictures.

“Well, if we’re going to stay at The Ritz,” Aziraphale says cheerfully, pronouncing the capital letters, “Best to do it Properly.”

“But this is ridiculous!”

Aziraphale isn’t paying attention anymore. He’s gone to tell Crowley not to draw mustaches on the expensive artwork.

“Unlimited resources,” You say to her, “Make for expensive taste.”

“No, kidding,” she sighs, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m gonna need some help with these two.”

Ha, You think to yourself, I knew it.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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^ If you want to see JUST how ridiculous the royal suite is.

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save-a-forest-ride-a-bear · 3 days

Text

🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ Masochism Tango ❛ ✧

Featuring: Gortash x Durge! Reader

Not proofread!

# Notes: cw for descriptions of violence and gortash being a freak. also as usual with my drabbles, no use of "y/n" and I try to describe the reader's dialogue and actions as little as possible

He'd be lying if he said he didn't decide to throw a ball only for the slim possibility of them showing up.

They hated him. That much was obvious. He could see it in their eyes during the coronation — that burning wrath and bloodlust that always made him weak in the knees. He couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking of. Maybe slashing his throat open, only to lap up the blood with their tongue. He hoped so. He revels in their aggression, even when it's directed towards him. Especially when it is.

The first hour of the ball was excruciating — having to pretend he cared about whatever the rest of Baldur's Gate's bourgeoisie were yapping about while apprehensively looking around, searching for the only thing in the world that mattered to him at that moment.

Just when he was starting to lose hope, he spotted them in a corner. The sight alone almost made him groan. Gods, how could they look even more beautiful, all dolled up just to see him. Or so he hoped, at least. He had to fight back the urge to just shove everyone out of his way, to go over to them and...

The band began to play before he could finish his thoughts, and he took that as the perfect opportunity. He sauntered over with confidence and elegance, ignoring the other guests with his eyes focused solely on them. Their little friends were nowhere to be seen, either. Even better.

They seemed uncomfortable, restless even, their fingers twitching slightly. Probably aching for their blade, he thought, and a grin formed on his lips. It's been so long, but they haven't changed a bit. He reached out, gently wrapping his fingers around their wrist and pulling them towards him before they even noticed his presence to slim the chances of being rejected.

"Good evening, my dear. I was starting to think you wouldn't come. Care for a dance?" It was supposed to be a question, but he didn't make it sound like one. He knew they'd say no, so he had to make it clear they didn't have a choice — just the way they were looking at him right now made it clear they were currently fantasizing about bashing his head into his neck. He smirked at that, dragging them firmly but not forcefully with him towards the dance floor. He wanted them angry — wanted them to want to hurt him.

He placed a hand on their waist, the other intertwined with theirs as he waltzed with them to the soft ballad playing in the background. "I rather missed this, you know. You used to be a most splendid dance partner, my treasure." He whispered, gazing deeply into those beautiful, livid eyes of theirs that seemed to bewitch him all the same as they did in the past. He didn't tell them the exact nature of their old relationship, but it was very much implied. He knew they could put two and two together.

Losing them hadn't been as easy as he desperately tried to pretend it was. He tried to pretend it didn't bother him, that it was just business as usual, that his heart didn't ache at the thought of never seeing them again — but whatever happened between the two flourished into something much deeper than he'd care to admit. And then, just when things were going well, they vanished. Just like that. They vanished and left him behind, alone, with Orin of all bloody people supposed to replace them. As if she could even hold a candle to them.

He tried his best to lie to himself — it was a good thing they were gone. They were making him soft, weak. He couldn't afford any distractions. And he actually believed those lies for a while. You can convince your mind of almost anything if you repeat it enough times.

But no amount of self-inflicted dishonesty could help ignore the flutter in his chest when they walked into the coronation room. He was almost giddy — even while trying his best to act professional, anyone could see that if he had a tail, it would be wagging at that moment. But after confirming they had lost their memories, a rush of conflicting emotions washed over him. On one hand, they didn't remember him. Didn't remember what they shared together, didn't remember his touch. On the other, this was his chance to finally try again — to make things right. World domination be dammed, it's not worth ruling over without them to share the throne with him, and it took losing them to realize that. They left the coronation without giving him a clear answer to his proposition to kill Orin, and that was that.

But now they were here — in his arms once again. Well, technically not yet, not entirely at least, but it was just the beginning. And he wouldn't stop until they were his again, body, mind and soul.

A small cackle escaped him as they purposefully stepped harshly on his foot, clearly trying to confront him without causing a scene. "You look awfully tense, my dearest. Almost as if you want to dismember me. You'd rather like that, I wager." He mused, spinning them to the rhythm of the song before pulling them back against him. "If you managed to, I imagine it would be quite the spectacle. A thrill, really. But you can't live without your tyrant, can you?" He taunted, the smirk on his face never fading.

"You still have that fire in you. I missed it." He admitted, leaning in to whisper so that his words were for their ears alone. "But we both know I'm not afraid of you, dearest. If anything, you're the one that should be concerned." He motioned around vaguely, eyes never leaving theirs. "I control this city. One wrong move, and I'll have my Steel Watch take care of you. That would truly be a shame, would it not?"

The threat was empty, of course. He had no plans of harming them, no matter what they said or did, but he always quite enjoyed pushing their buttons, seeing what makes them tick, how much it takes for them to break.

He pulled them closer, pressing them flush against his chest, lips grazing their ear. "So why don't you try that again? Threaten me. Hurt me. Say you'll kill me if I don't do as you say. I promise I won't run away." He breathed out, his hand reaching up to caress their cheek gently, pulling their face towards his. "I'll beg for it. Crave it. Just as I always did. Show me how much you hate me, my treasure. Remind me of our history."

There was an unmistakable twinge of desperation in his voice. He needed this in ways he never needed anything else in his life — needed them to crave him, to hurt him all over again, to make him bleed. It was a yearning so strong he was sure it would swallow him whole. Which is why he pressed his lips against theirs despite his better judgement to keep teasing, keep pushing. He couldn't wait any longer.

What he wasn't expecting was the reciprocation and much less the harsh bite on his lower lip, strong enough he could taste his blood on their tongue. He moaned into their mouth, hands settling on their hips to pull them even closer. He did miss this.

It was hungry, sloppy, open-mouthed, but he still found it perfect. One hand rose to cup their cheek, and when they finally parted, gasping softly for air, he brushed it against their lower lip, smearing the remains of blood before slipping it inside their mouth. "That's better." He whispered, his voice husky. He felt their tongue against his digit before their teeth once again sank down on his flesh, and he groaned with a grin.

"Let's find somewhere more private, my pet. I believe we have some catching up to do."

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #enver gortash #gortash x reader #lord enver gortash #gortash x durge #durgetash

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assistant-of-drama · 23 hours

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What if Owen angrily called out Alejandro?

"Owen," Chris chimed. "It's time to go pal."

"What?" Owen gasped, turning to the rest of the contestants.

Most of them don't bother looking at Owen, either out of shame or apathy.

Except for Alejandro, who was squinting and smiling cruelly at Owen.

"But I don't understand." Owen said. "I thought I was getting along great with everyone. Why would you guys vote me off? What did I do wrong?"

"Do the reasons honestly matter?" Alejandro asked smugly. "Just accept your defeat with dignity like Noah did, mi amigo."

"Yeah, the reasons actually do matter, Al." Owen said, with surprising firmness. "I would get it, if I had gotten voted off for eating something I'm not supposed, like back at Germany with the sausage. But I managed to control myself from eating the cake! I didn't do anything wrong this time! So, I think I deserve to know why I'm being eliminated!"

Sierra couldn't take the guilt anymore and awkwardly raised her hand. "Uhh, Alejandro said that he would bless my marriage with Cody, if I voted for you... I'm sorry, Owen."

"Yeah, the guy told me to vote for you too." Duncan said, while pointing at the charming man.

"Me three." said Courtney calmly.

Owen's jaw dropped. "Wait a minute... Al... You... You want to get rid of me?... But I thought we were friends..."

"Yeah, I had to make you think that, so you'd listen to me." Alejandro scoffed and then chuckled. "I mean, did you really think that I would EVER want to be friends with someone as childish as you?"

"I can't believe you just said that!" Owen gasped again in disbelief. "But you said I was your amigo... You mean, every terrible thing that you did to me, was done on purpose?... The glares, hitting me with a baby carriage, leaving me to get eaten by caterpillars..."

"Don't forget when he hypnotized you into giving yourself a wedgie and dance a jig." Duncan pointed out with a small smirk.

"Oh my god! I thought I dreamt that! You seriously did that, Al?!" Owen yelled with a glare. "What the hell is wrong with you?!?"

Alejandro blinked at the larger and softer man's surprising fierceness, but the charming yet cruel man keeps his cool. "Well, that's what you get for being childish and incompetent... My only regret was not getting you eliminated sooner... Even Noah and Tyler would've been much more useful to me than you."

Heather gazes at Alejandro in pure shock. "Wow, that's cold even by my standards."

Owen's glare hardens. "You know Al, when Noah first told me about your true colors, I didn't want to believe him at first. Not even when he pointed out all the messed-up stuff you did to people, including me. I kept telling myself that those things you did were accidents or that you were misunderstood, like how Noah, Izzy and Eva often are. But boy, was I wrong! Heather was right about you all along! Behind that charming face you're nothing but a mean, nasty, selfish, heartless, cheap con artist! And you're also a big, fat, dumb-"

Everyone's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates at what Owen said next. Alejandro's jaw goes slack as his left eye twitches a bit. The only ones who weren't in shock were an amused Chris and Chef as well as a strangely proud looking Heather.

"-in all of Kalamazoo!" Owen finished with ragged breathes. "Wow, I feel better already! No wonder other people curse!"

Owen grabs his parachute and looks back at the others with a calm, accepting smile. "Bye, guys."

The contestants awkwardly said their goodbyes, still trying to get over their shock at Owen's previous rage.

Then the big guy looks straight at a certain girl with a bright grin. "Bye Heather, kick Al's butt for me!"

"Trust me Owen, I will." Heather responded with a bold smirk.

"Oh, and Al?" Owen called for Alejandro's attention. "One last thing..."

Owen had a suringly evil smile on his lips, as he says his next words. "See you later, Alligator!~"

Owen jumps through the open plane door with a loud cackle, already long gone before the slippery Charmer could do anything.

Owen's cackles were quickly replaced by the laughter of Heather, Duncan, Cody, Sierra and Blaineley.

Even Courtney was trying to hide her own smile.

"Oh, the audience is gonna love that!" Blaineley piped up.

All Alejandro could do was wait until he could angrily curse at the confessional camera, again.

Noah is going to be so proud of Owen.

#td owen #alejandro burromuerto #td heather #total drama #total drama world tour #nowen #platonic or romantic

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karahalloway · 3 days

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(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Drake is back... but that doesn't mean that it's a happy reunion...

Word Count: 4,300

Rating/Warnings: M (shouting, guilt-tripping, dangerous driving, swearing in multiple languages, one over-heated kiss)

Chapter theme song:

Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

I whirl around in disbelief. "Drake...!"

He's stood before me with two days' worth of stubble, regarding me with a long-suffering look.

But it really is him.

And I feel my heart swell, even though I can tell that he's not exactly best pleased to find me in a random antique shop in the middle of Rome.

The muscle in his jaw twitches. "I turn my back for one goddamn minute and—"

"What are you doing here?" I blurt.

"I can ask the same of you, Gale..." he counters, folding his arms over his chest. "Because this sure as shit ain't no bridal boutique."

My chin lifts on its own accord. "I decided to make a detour."

"Jesus fucking—" He rakes his hand through his hair. "Did you leave your brain in a ditch somewhere in the process?"

My eyes widen. "Wha—! No! I—"

"The city is crawling with paps!" he almost shouts, jabbing a finger towards the door. "Who are looking for any excuse to make a meal out of you! Did you not think for one second that—?"

"What?" I counter heatedly, stepping up to him. "That I should cower and hide instead, like I'm to blame for it all? I told you — I refuse to let these people—"

"Well, it would've been a damn sight better than making me chase you across half the fucking city!"

"Why were you even chasing after me?" I demand, my own ire flaring. "You're supposed to be in Dubai!"

"Been there, done that, got the jet lag to prove it," he hits back sarcastically. "But just because I'm gone doesn't mean you suddenly have carte blanche to fuck off on your own."

"Says the person who walked off without so much as a 'see you later'..."

His mouth hardens. "I didn't want to—"

"Also, I'm not on my own," I continue testily. "Allard and Schweitzer—"

"—are fucking fired," he cuts in, suddenly darkened mocha eyes flashing. "They should never have—"

"Ch'è qualche problema?"

"No!" Drake and I snap in unison.

The old man falls mute before muttering something disparaging under his breath.

I continue staring at Drake, heart thumping and chest heaving in the wake of our dust-up.

He glares back unblinkingly, jaw clenched as the tension rolls off him in palatable waves.

I reach up to adjust the strap of my tote indignantly. "So much for trusting each other, huh, Walker?"

"Dammit, Gale," he growls. "That's not what—"

Grabbing the wrapped box off the counter, I stomp past him without a backwards glance. "See you back at the embassy."

He has some nerve, showing up out of the blue t—

I barely make it two steps before he's grabbed me by the arm.

I open my mouth to retort...

...but I'm not given a chance to get a word in edgeways, because in the next instant, he's slammed me against his chest, laying claim to my mouth with a ferocity that's on the verge of being savage.

The fight whooshes out of me as my arms fly up to wrap themselves 'round his neck, even as I feel his fingers dig against the soft cotton of my dress, pulling me to him like a long-lost ship to anchor.

"Christ, girl," he growls against my lips. "You send me off the edge of reason..."

"I'm... sorry..." I gasp, clinging to him helplessly as he trails down the line of my jaw. "I didn't mean to—"

"Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello."

Drake starts as he gets clapped roundly on the back.

Peeking up, I see the shopkeeper smirking at us conspiratorially while ambling past.

"Err... Sì," coughs Drake, pulling back from me. "Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese..."

The man laughs in response. "Non capita a tutti?"

"You speak Italian?" I gawp, feeling a flush creep up my cheeks as the old man throws us a wink over his shoulder.

"Uh... Yeah..." Drake mutters, running his hand over the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. "With Bast."

"Oh." I glance between him and the old man. "What did he say?"

"An old proverb," Drake says, looking just as embarrassed as I am feeling about the fact that we'd inadvertently let our dirty laundry rip in the company of a complete stranger. "Love is not beautiful if it does not quarrel."

My cheeks redden further. "I-I see..."

"It's kind of a compliment..." he admits, shooting a sidelong glance over at the man, who's now busy dusting some shelves. "But we should probably get out of his hair."

"Definitely...!" I chirp, diving towards the saving grace of the exit.

"Err... La saluto," offers Drake on his way out. "E scusi il disturbo..."

"Eh!" comes the scoffed response. "Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona."

"Lo so..."

"Everything alright?" I ask as Drake joins me on the baking pavement.

"Yeah," he assures me, not quite meeting my eye. "Just giving his two cents..."

Something flashes across his face, too fast for me to read.

But before I can ask him about it, he's already marching me across the square.

"What about Allard and Schweitzer?" I protest, trying to squint behind me as Drake navigates us 'round the incessant stream of sightseers. "Are they—?"

"I sent them back to the embassy," Drake replies, yanking me back as a pair of kids dart out in front of me.

"You didn't actually fire them, did you?" I gasp.

"Sure as hell thinking about it," he mutters, moving us forward again.

"If it's any consolation, they did try to talk me out of coming out here..."

"Clearly not hard enough."

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be," I remind him.

He lets out a low breath. "Don't I fuckin' know it..."

"Look," I say, coming to a stop and turning to face him. "I get you're pissed—"

"That's putting it mildly."

"—but don't take it out on Allard and Schweitzer," I tell him flatly. "They didn't do anything wrong... and I actually get along with them."

He holds my gaze for a long time before answering. "They're not your friends, Gale."

"Maybe not in any conventional sense," I admit. "But getting me a security detail had been your idea, Walker. And I know I was against it initially, but Allard and Schweitzer have been able to be there for me when you haven't."

His mouth hardens.

"And I know that grates you," I continue quickly, before he can cut me off again. "But we knew from the start that this was going to be the case, so if you do need to leave, then I'd prefer to be left with people I can trust. And I trust Allard and Schweitzer — with my life. Which is actually saying a lot."

He holds my gaze for what feels like a full minute before answering. "I'll think about it."

"That's it?" I demand in disbelief as he grabs my wrist to pull me after him again. "After all that, you're just going t—?"

"I said I'll think about it."

I glare at his back. "You're a dick."

He rounds on me like a wolf. "I'm a fuckin' realist. And the reality is that Allard and Schweitzer messed up. Big time. And I don't care how much you like them, or how many times you've braided each other's hair—"

My eyes narrow. "That's not—"

"—because none of that fucking matters out here! What matters — the only goddamn thing that matters — is keeping you safe. From the paps, from the aristos, even from your ownfucking self, if you're about to do something stupid. And at that, they've unquestionably failed. So, no. I'm not about to cut them a break. Especially not on your say-so. Because the stakes are too fucking real, and I'm not gonna let anyone play dice with your life. Least of all the people whose one job is to look out for you. Got it?"

I force myself to blink back the sudden tears in my eyes. "Yeah..."

"Good," he grunts. "Now get on."

Glancing past Drake, I spot what is very literally the last thing I'd expect to see him with.

I scoff up at him. "In your dreams, bud."

"Gale," he warns, reaching for one of the helmets that's hanging from the black and white moped's frame. "I'm not in the fucking m—"

"Well, neither am I," I hit back tersely. "So, you can take that deathtrap of a Vespa and shove it."

"First off," he counters, tossing the helmet at me. "It's a Piaggio. Second, the only reason I had to resort to this is because you decided to bail."

I catch the helmet irately. "So, you're saying that this is my fault?"

"Damn right, it is," he confirms, extracting a second helmet from the storage compartment nestled beneath the seat. "It's got all of 50cc so it's underpowered as fuck."

"Then why the heck did you get it!"

"Because it's the fastest way to get around the city."

I snort at him. "You mean, it's the fastest way to get into an accident..."

He prays for deliverance under his breath. "Gale, for the love of Christ, will you just—?"

"No," I declare, folding my arms. "The last time you conned me onto the back of your motorbike, I literally thought I was going to die. And after seeing how everyone in Rome drives, I have no interest in—"

"You drive, then."

Drake's unexpected offer pulls me up short. "Wait. What?"

He pulls a set of keys from his pocket. "It's a one-time offer, Gale. Either you take the wheel, or I do. But you've gettin' your ass on this sorry excuse of a bike, one way or another."

"I..." I swallow thickly. "I don't know how..."

"I'll walk you through it," he assures me. "There ain't much to it."

"Somehow I doubt that..."

"Clock's tickin', girl..."

I heave a breath before shoving my head into my helmet. "Okay, fine. I'll do it."

"Figured you would," he murmurs, holding the keys up. "You know where these go?"

"Up your ass," I retort, snatching the keychain from his hands.

The corner of his mouth twitches — whether in amusement or annoyance, I can't tell.

Not that I really care. I can be a jerk, too. But, I figure that at least with me driving, we won't rack up any speeding tickets or near misses on our way back to the Cordonian embassy, which is where we are staying for the two nights that we are in Rome for.

Walking up to the moped — admittedly with more swagger than I'm actually feeling at this moment — I grab the handlebars and swing my leg over the middle of the frame.

After a quick inspection, I locate the ignition switch and slot the key in.

But before I have a chance to try and turn the engine on, Drake's hand appears in my line of sight.

Reaching between my legs, he opens a hidden compartment in the frame. "For your bag."

"Oh," I say in genuine surprise, taking my bag off so I can tuck it away. "That is actually kind of neat."

"Last thing we need is for you to lose your stuff..." he drawls, shutting the glove box back up.

As he straightens again, his arm brushes the bare skin of my knee. And despite (or maybe because of) the unresolved tension shimmering between us in the wake of our heated reunion, I can't help but feel a familiar zap of electricity course through my nerves at the inadvertent contact.

"No kidding..." I concede, somewhat hoarsely. Clearing my throat, I add, "So... umm, what's next?"

"Grab the break and turn the key over as far as it'll go."

"So, kind of like a car," I surmise, following the instructions. "Why isn't it starting?"

"Because you only turned the electronics on," Drake advises. "To kick the engine off, you need to disengage the kick stand, and then press the start button."

"Jesus Christ, this is complicated..." I grumble as I scoot off the seat so I can try to figure out how to do what he just said.

"No more complicated than sailing a yacht," Drake counters, watching my antics from the safety of the pavement. "Just give it a shove ."

"How will that—?"

"It's got a rear-mounted kickstand," he says. "You disengage it by rolling the bike forward."

"Right," I grumble, feeling like a total idiot. "Because that's so obvious."

Maybe I should've let Drake drive, after all...

"You still holding the break?"

I snap my head up as I give the handlebars a hard push. "Huh?"

A squeal erupts from my mouth as the moped suddenly lurches forward beneath me, and I have a moment of sheer panic as I wrestle with the hunk of metal to keep from crashing to the ground.

"I told you to hold the break..."

"You could've been more specific!"

He lets out a low breath. "You good?"

"Yeah," I huff, finally managing to find some semblance of balance with an uncooperative moped stuck between my legs.

"Turn her on, then."

I scan the buttons in front of me. "Err..."

"The one by your right thumb."

Shifting my grip, I extend my thumb out to press the button...

"You still holdin' the break?" Drake asks.

I quickly tighten my hold on the left-side break. "Yes."

Drake eyes me unconvincedly. "Just checking..."

I stick my tongue out at him.

"Hey," he objects. "You're the one who wanted to do this, Gale."

"Yeah, everything is my fault today..." I grumble as I press the start button.

The moped sparks to life beneath me, and I feel a massive rush of achievement.

"I did it!" I cry, meeting Drake's eye with an unadulterated grin.

He quirks a brow at me. "Y'know you're still stationary, right?"

"Shut up."

Drake steps up to the bike with a shake of his head and flips out the passenger foot rest. "Last chance to bow out gracefully, Gale."

I glance over my shoulder at him. "If you're trying to pull some kind of reverse psychology on me, Walker—"

"Wouldn't dream of it..." he assures me dryly, mounting up as well. "But my word is gospel, y'hear?"

"Aye-aye, Cap'n," I say sardonically... while trying to ignore the heat of his body and the instinctive urge to lean back into it as he settles down on the narrow seat behind me.

Because as much as I missed him, and as glad as I am that he's back, our volatile reunion has served as a stark reminder that we never finished our conversation back in Applewood. Not only that, but thanks to the almost break-neck speed at which things have been happening, the list of topics for discussion has only grown since then.

And the last thing I want is for us to fall down the same toxic hole that we did in the wake of Christian's surprise reveal in Valtoria.

I just have to hope that we'll be able to squeeze in some much-needed couple time before even more things pile up between us.

Not to mention, I'm desperate to know what had happened with Tariq in Dubai... and whether Drake's record-fast turnaround was a sign of some much-needed success, or even more demoralising failure.

But, first things first: getting back to the embassy in one piece, without the paps chasing us.

I feel Drake roll his eyes at me. "Wrong salutation, but never mind... Now. We're gonna do this slowly and gently. There's a lot of people around, and we don't need you on the front page of the Sun again because you accidentally torpedoed a toddler."

My throat constricts. "Y-You saw that?"

"You'd be hard pressed to find someone who hasn't," he mutters. "But right now, your focus needs to be on driving this thing. So, eyes up front and ignore everything else."

I swallow down my nerves. "Okay..."

"Your right hand controls the throttle. Your left hand controls the break," Drake instructs. "For the love of God, don't mix that up, or I'll be on the phone to your patents explaining why you suddenly need skin grafts."

I wince involuntarily at the gruesomeness of that particular image. "Got it."

"It's a mistake you'll only make once," he warns grimly. "To get going, twist down on the throttle while slowly easing up on the break. Don't jerk it, or you'll face plant into the speedometer."

"Anything else?" I ask, somewhat nervously.

As anticipated, driving a motorbike is a lot more nuanced than Drake made it look back in Cordonia. And I'm having some serious second thoughts about this whole thing...

"Keep your feet off the foot-stand until you've got enough momentum to stay upright."

"How will I know that?"

"You'll feel it," he assures me. "Like on a bike."

I bite my bottom lip.

"Hey," he says, brushing his fingers across my hip. "You got this, girl."

The familiarity of Drake's touch — even though it's fleeting — unwinds something in me. Because it's an unspoken reminder that no matter what may be going on around us... or between us, it's not going to come in the way of the promise that he made me.

I suck in a steadying breath. "Okay. Here goes."

Readjusting my grip on the handlebars, I twist my wrist down. Feeling the engine start to rumble with increased vigour, I gentle ease up on the break.

The Piaggio begins to creep forward.

"Watch the road, not the instruments," Drake cautions from behind me.

Lifting my eyes up, I carefully navigate us 'round the oncoming pedestrians, keeping my feet suspended alongside the moped, in case I need to make an emergency stop.

But, as we move away from the iconic landmark, the crowd starts to thin out, and the street widens. Passing a fruit and vegetable stand, I let go of the break fully, the bike pulls forward eagerly. Feeling slightly more confident, I add a bit more gas so I can finally lift my feet up without capsizing our delicate operation.

"Not bad," Drake approves. "You just gotta relax a bit."

I flush inadvertently. "I am relaxed."

"Your shoulders say different. You're driving like Quasimodo."

"Oh." I make a concerted effort to straighten my posture. "Better?"

"Yeah. But now you need to drop your elbows."

"So much for this being easy..."

"It is," he insists. "Once you get the hang of it."

"You and your technicalities, Walker..." I grumble.

"Everything's got a learning curve," he reminds me. "But we just might make a Hell's Angel out of you yet."

I snort back at him. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Evil Knievel. We haven't made it back to the embassy yet."

"Then you might wanna knuckle down for this next part."

"Why? What's—?"

I get my answer as we round a corner and come parallel to a busier-looking road.

Great...

"Right here, then first left," Drake advises as we approach a somewhat complicated-looking three-way intersection.

"Umm... Okay..." I mumble, eyeing up the noticeably faster-moving traffic on the main road with more than a bit of trepidation.

"No one's gonna give you room, so you'll have to gun it," comes the no-nonsense tip from behind me. "The indicator is by your left thumb."

A Fiat whizzes past, but the next car is some distance away. Taking a breath, I flick the indicator on and twist down on the throttle to merge into the gap.

"Move over one more," Drake shouts over my shoulder. "You're taking up the bus lane."

"Where the heck does it say that?" I demand, casting my head around in confusion.

"On the sign we just passed..."

"Was it invisible?"

"Hey," counters Drake. "You wanna argue with me, or a cop?"

"Neither," I concede sourly, making the switch to the left-side lane after a quick check in the mirror. "But they could've made it more obvious..."

Drake scoffs. "It's Rome. The bastards are trying to catch you out."

"Clearly," I agree, taking a left at the traffic lights...

...straight into a two-way fork in the road.

"Umm... What now?" I squeak, trying to hedge my bets as much as I can in the rapidly shrinking room that I have to make a decision before I run into the curb.

"Stay left."

I start to turn the bike, only to yank it back violently with a yelp as a car that I hadn't realised was trying to overtake me blows past with a scream of its horn.

"Vaffanculo!" yells Drake, throwing his hand out angrily at the other driver.

"Ohmygod..." I rasp, my entire body shaking in the wake of the near miss.

"Fuckin' asshole," gripes Drake. "You okay?"

I swallow thickly past the lump in my throat. "I... think so."

"If you need to pull over..."

I shake my head. "No. I'm fine. I just..."

"...get a kick outta playing chicken?"

"I don't do it on purpose!"

"You sure?" he asks dryly. "'Cause you definitely seem to be making a habit of it..."

I open my mouth, but quickly think better of it... as Drake has a point. I have had a few too many near misses lately. "Sorry... It isn't intentional. I thought that since I'd left the indicator on, that—"

"I know," he assures me, laying a hand on my hip again. "I'm not blaming you. But all the calls you've had had been too close. And..." His fingers tighten against the material of my dress. "I just don't want you to—"

"I know," I concede softly. "I don't want that either. And I'm not normally this accident-prone, I promise..."

"Except when your blood sugar's low," he corrects wryly.

His words cause me to clench my eyes together in consternation. "Damn it, the croissants..."

In the whirlwind of Drake's surprise reappearance, I'd forgotten all about the primary reason for sneaking away from the bridal boutique.

"What croissants?" queries Drake.

"The pistachio ones I was supposed to get from this little bakery next to the fountain that the Italian President had recommended."

I feel Drake's disbelieving gaze knife into the back of my head. "Seriously? That's the reason you were out playing hooky?"

"One of them, yes..." I reply evasively.

"Putain de merde..."

"Apparently they're very good..."

Drake mutters something under his breath. "Pull over."

My eyes widen. "What? Why?"

"Because it's past noon, and you're clearly starving."

"I'm fine," I insist, even though the only thing of substance I've had since this morning was the cup of coffee on Olivia's jet. "I'll just grab something when—"

The Piaggio lurches to a stop as Drake slaps a hand on the break. "No. You won't."

My eyes widen as my feet fly out on instinct to steady the suddenly stationary moped. "Why not?"

"Because the staff at the embassy already have their work cut out pulling together tonight's dinner, so the kitchen is off-limits," he explains, hopping off the back. "And you won't be able to take two steps outside to grab a sandwich without picking up a pap tail."

"Then why have we stopped in a dead-end alley?" I ask in disbelief as Drake pulls the moped it onto its kickstand while I'm still sat gaping at him from the seat.

"Because we just passed one of the best restaurants in Rome," he states. "So, I'm buying you lunch."

His cinnamon-laced eyes meet mine, and I see a sudden flash of rawness in his gaze... a silent plea entreating me to say yes. Which means this is about more than just food.

"Okay," I accede, wondering what could've prompted such a sudden change of heart. "But what about the paps? Aren't you worried we'll get spotted?"

"See any people?" asks Drake, reaching across my lap to turn the ignition off.

"No, but—"

"Exactly," he affirms, pocketing the keys. "This is one of the few places in the city where you ain't gonna bump into a reporter."

"How do you know?"

"Because apart from the fact that Sugo actually makes its own pasta, it is also a stone's throw from Parliament," he explains, offering me a hand to help me off the bike. "Which means that pencil pushers from every level of government come here to ink deals over carbonara, so no one — staff included — is gonna mess with the status quo."

"Sounds like something out of a mafia movie..."

"Where d'you think Hollywood gets its ideas from?" he drawls, pulling his helmet off to stow it in the under-seat compartment. "Places like this. Which is why no one will bother us here. Especially not the paps. It'd be a death sentence for this joint if their tight and discreet ship suddenly sprung a leak."

"Good to know," I acknowledge, unclipping the clasp of my own helmet. "But how did you even find out about this place? Let alone got in?"

"Leo," Drake replies, taking my helmet to clip it onto the handlebar. "He's on a first name basis with the chef."

I quirk a brow at him. "Sounds like there's a story there..."

Drake extricates my bag from the glove box with scoffs. "It's Leo. There's never not a story. But let's get you inside first. Before you pass out on the pavement."

"I'm not going to—" My stomach rumbles in pointed disagreement. "Okay, I am hungry. But where exactly is this place? There's nothing here apart from the back-ends of buildings..."

"Have I ever let you down when it comes to food?" he asks with a raised brow.

"No..."

"Then trust me."

The story continues in Chapter 21 - Coming Soon!

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

Ch'è qualche problema? - Is there a problem?

Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello. - Ah, love... It is not beautiful if it does not quarrel.

Err... Sì. Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese... - Err... Yes. I am definitely learning that the hard way.

Non capita a tutti? - Don't we all?

Err... La saluto. E scusi il disturbo... - Err... Farewell. And apologies for disturbing you.

Eh! Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona. - Eh! No risk, no reward! But you better take care of her! Good woman – worth a crown.

Lo so... - I know...

Vaffanculo! - Fuck you!

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saras-almanac · 3 days

Text

BuckTommyWeekend Day 2: A figure from their past

Title: What we have

Fandom: 911 (ABC)

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Summary: Buck had complicated feelings after they run into Abby. Luckily, Tommy is there to comfort him. For the prompt: A figure from their past for @bucktommyweek

Notes: I have a lot of thoughts about Abby and her relationship with Buck (plus just thoughts on her character in general). And this is a part of something much longer I’d written but it was just bits and pieces—the meeting, the aftermath, Tommy talking with Athena or Maddie, this scene—just too much going on and too much to write in a day when my brain was still coming up with the actual idea for this. So this is what I’ve got.

Tommy hadn’t thought much of this meeting Abby at the time. Apparently she was in town for some meeting or other for one of her stepdaughters and him and Evan had happened to run into her as they were leaving the restaurant they had brunch at.

Evan had gotten a bit quiet but smiled and politely introduced him as “This is Tommy,” before Abby started telling him about her life. It was about three minutes of a quick catch up before Evan and him continued on their way out and honestly, Tommy hadn’t thought it was strange.

But now It’s been over a week since he’d last seen Evan and he was trying not to worry or get caught up in his own head about what this all might mean. He was off today, so maybe Tommy could convince him to meet up for lunch or at least just talk later today.

Thankfully the doorbell rang at that moment, pulling Tommy out of his potential spiral.

He opened the door and there stood Evan, holding two coffees and a bag of food.

“I brought coffee and burritos,” Evan said.

Tommy ushered him in and followed him to the kitchen. “It’s been a minute. But I’m happy to see you.”

“Me too.” Evan set everything on the counter, dropping his duffel on the floor, and then turned to him, basically wrapping himself around Tommy.

“Is everything all right?”” Tommy asked.

“Yes,” Evan said. “I mean, it’s getting there?”

“Would you want to tell me about what you’re thinking about?” Tommy asked, pulling away and gently pushing Evan toward the stool by his counter. “While you eat a little something.”

Evan sat down but made no move toward his food. He sighed. “I told you about Abby. My ex. The one we ran into a couple weeks ago.”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah. I mean, a little.”

“Right, well seeing her sort of threw me off—Not because I’m dating you or freaking out about my bisexuality and stuff,” Evan rushed to reassure him. “It just… I guess it just brought a lot of old feelings, things that trigged some old insecurities. And I wasn’t expecting it. I mean, it’s been years and looking back, it’s not even like we were really together together so I don’t know really what happened.”

“Feelings can be surprising,” Tommy said. “They come back around in the strangest ways sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “But I don’t even think about her anymore. I don’t. I’m not like in love with her or want her back or anything--I swear.”

“I didn’t think you did, but thank you for the reassurance,” Tommy said. “Seeing people who used to play a big part in our lives brings up a lot of emotions. And that’s okay.”

“That’s what Dr. Copeland said too,” Evan said shaking his head. “I called her because it just triggered a lot of feelings, feelings of insecurity that I thought I’d dealt with. But when you come face-to-face with your biggest failure those feelings can come back.”

“You and Abby not working out is not a failure,” Tommy said.

“I know that. Now,” Evan said. “But it’s what happened when I saw her again. It was my first relationship where I did everything right. I followed everyone’s advice, everyone’s ideas, followed Abby’s lead. I did everything I was supposed to. And she left anyway. Which, I don’t have to tell you made me panic and worry about you, about us.”

“Well, I’d argue that we haven’t’ done anything right in the way that other people would have it or do it,” Tommy said, nudging Evan with his shoulder. “But I also can’t’ say that we’ve done nothing right because a look where we are, what we have.”

“That’s what I realized,” Evan admitted. “At least part of it.”

“What’s the other part?” Tommy asked.

“So it’s like this,” Evan said, amping up and already starting to gesture with his hands. “I think I thought so highly of Abby for so long, right? She was this woman who was mature and knew what she wanted and had a whole life and still wanted me; it’s like she made me better or at least want to be a better man. And after she left, I was terrified that she’d taken that part of me with her, the mature Buck, the guy who was dependable and worthy.”

Tommy clenched his jaw because he hated hearing Evan talk about himself in terms of worthiness or usefulness. Granted, it was a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, but Tommy usually operated under a “do as I say, not as I do” policy.

“And seeing her again, seeing her with you just put so much into perspective for me,” Evan said. “I always thought of her as my first real relationship, but seeing her next to you, knowing what we have, how you treat me, it finally dawned on me that we didn’t have a relationship. Or we did, but like not the one I wanted, the one I thought we had.”

Tommy gently moved the coffees out of the way. “And what was that?”

“I thought we had this amazing relationship where we could be ourselves, someone I could share myself with and someone who wanted that too,” Evan said. “But I think I was just a physical presence for her during a hard time in her life. Someone who was there, who helped shoulder some of the weight, and then someone she just left behind because I didn’t matter to her. Not like I wanted to.”

Evan sighed. “And then I just saw her standing next to you and couldn’t help but think about all the things you know about me, the things you like about me, and I realized that she never really knew me at all.”

“It doesn’t sound like she did,” Tommy said gently, carefully. “Because if she had, I doubt she’d have been able to leave.”

“See and that,” Evan said, reaching over to grab Tommy’s hand. “You’d never do that to me. To anyone really. You’d never just take off, knowing you were done with me, without telling me. Yeah, it would crush me to lose you, but you’d still at least tell me. You wouldn’t leave me hanging on, waiting for any words of our future when you had no plans to come back.”

Evan squeezed his hand between both of his. “I just, I love you so much and I feel so lucky to have you in my life that sometimes I panic that I’m not quite good enough for you. And I want to be.”

Tommy reached out, cradling Evan’s cheek in his hand. “You are good enough. You’re more than good enough for me.”

“Even when I’m having a crisis and stupidly keep myself from you for 12 days?” Evan asked.

“Even then,” Tommy assured him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

#i love supportive emotionally mature conversations so that's what we have here #might expand on this more in the future which is likely a thing i'm going to say for each of these since i'm writing them all this weekend #bucktommy #bucktommyweekend #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 fic #my fic

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