#he was weird; I told my friends his buddy was weird and then walked to class

[xxblairexxss]

A fresh start

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader

Theme : Angst, fluff

Word count : 4.2k

Part 2

Requested!

In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.

It gets a little heavy near the end so heads up! Not proofread!

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"There seems to be a problem with the downforce. It kind of eats the tyre quite a lot."

Charles felt a touch on his hip while he was too busy listening to the engineers. Looking down, he saw a small kid patting on his leg, while the other hand seemed to be offering him something. "Hey, are you giving this to me?" He asked, pulling the headset from his ear as he crouched down.

"Yeah! My mom always gives me candy whenever I am stressed with my homework. You can—oh." The little kid fumbled with the wrapping paper that was securely wrapped around the lollipop. "I can’t take the plastic off for you. Sorry…"

"Oh, it’s okay. Let me help you." Charles twiddled with the wrapper as it went loose before he pulled it off. "There! Oh, for me? Are you sure?"

"No stress! Bye bye!" The toddler waved and sprinted off, leaving Charles with the strawberry lollipop in his hand.

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"Any idea who she is?" Charles nudged Joris and tipped his chin towards the girl who was across the room.

"She’s part of the communication executive." Joris took a quick glance and went back to his phone.

"I have never seen her before." His eyes were latched on the girl, seeing the way she talked with her hands, nodding and smiling at whatever the other girl was talking about.

"She just joined the team."

"What’s her name?" Charles nudged Joris again, causing him to heave a sigh and stand up.

"Y/N!" Joris called out.

"Joris! What the fuck?" Charles slapped his friend’s leg and looked away. The phone in his hand seemed to be looking much more interesting, though it wasn’t even turned on. While his fingers were dancing and tapping on any random buttons on his phone, his ears were listening to the conversation—well, more like listening to her voice. It was weird how he had never seen her before, but Joris seemed to be getting along with her very well.

"That was Y/N." Joris gave a smile, stealing a peep from Charles’s phone, and laughed when he saw it was on camera, capturing Charles’s face from an angle below. "Nice picture, by the way. Is that why you couldn’t stop looking at it when she was here?"

"Very unnecessary, Joris. You could have just told me her name." He threw his cap on and stood up to leave the room.

"I thought you wanted to get to know her." Joris exclaimed, seeing his best friend walking away.

"I can figure that one myself!"

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"Charlie!"

"Hey, Adam! Give me a five!" He bent down as the little one hopped and touched their hands together. This has been his fourth time seeing him, and every single time, his visit would get longer and longer. The first time he met the kid, he just dropped by to give him candy and walked away. This time, he came by with candy and shared a few little jokes and games.

"Do you always wander around the paddock alone? Your dad never gets mad." He ripped the top off the candy and handed it to the kid.

"No, mommy won’t be mad if I just stay around the red garage. Oh! Sour!" His face scrunched up, making the driver cackle.

"Oh? You’re with your mom? Dang, this is sour." He made a face and shivered as the sourness hit.

"Yeah, I’m with mommy! Daddy is…" He looked down, his bottom lips jutting out. Charles knew right away it wasn’t something light if this was the reaction coming from a 4-year-old kid, so he cut the topic short.

"You don’t have anything sweet in there? I’m not a fan of sour candy."

Adam patted his pockets and shook his head. "No more candy! I stole that from mommy. Shh, she didn’t know." He put his pointy finger on his lips and giggled.

"Your secret is safe with me, buddy. I have to go. See you around, Adam!" Charles stood up and gave the little one a pat on the head before he went to get Andrea for his short meeting before the press conference.

"This will be your..." 

Charles was slapped with what felt like a brick when it was just a file of papers, but the sting was unexpected, causing him to lean back as he covered one side of his face with his hand.

"Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I just slap you?"

Chuckling, he shook his head and pressed his palm on his eyes—the ones that just got slapped on. "No, no. Well, yes, I’m okay. Are you–"  Her beauty from up close astounded him, erasing all vocabularies in his head as he went blank. "You are beautiful," he muttered.

"Sorry?"

"Oh? Oh, nothing. Y/N, right?" He offered a handshake with the widest grin. "I’m Charles."

"Everyone knows who you are, Charles." You laughed, accepting the handshake. "How do you know my name? I never properly introduced myself."

"Oh, Joris told me." He answered, his eyes still on her, making him look like a fool without realising it.

"Do you have anything else to say? Because I need to." She pointed the other way. "I need to head there."

He pulled himself back to his senses and stepped aside. "Oh, sorry about that. I’m not going to hold you any longer."

"Sorry about that. Good luck in the qualifying round!"

"Oh, wait! Is this yours?" He crouched down and took the sour candies on his feet. The same one he got from the kid

"Oh, yeah! Must have slipped off my hand. Thank you!"

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"Mommy, look!"

You took the paper that he handed to you and cackled at the drawing. "What is this, sweetheart?"

"Guess, mommy! Look, I drew the moustache too." He pointed at the little lines, wearing the proudest smile.

"A moustache? Is that a cat?"

"Yes! Like the one we used to have!" He started collecting all of his marker pens and coloured pencils, placing them in his small pencil case as he saw you start packing your stuff. "Are we going back already?"

"Yeah, mommy’s all done with my work, so we can head back early. Should we go on a little date and get ice cream?" Shutting down your laptop, you placed them in the case when Adam seemed to be rushing to go somewhere with his little backpack. "Where are you going?"

"Mommy, wait! I haven’t met Charlie!"

"What even is Charlie?" You muttered, picking up the missing marker pens he had missed for rushing.

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"Hey, munchkin! I was waiting for you." Charles grinned and offered his hand for a high five. "Where have you been?"

"Oh! I’m going back already. Wait!" He sneaked his little hand into his pocket and frowned when he couldn’t find the thing he was looking for. Charles then saw him pull his arms off his small backpack and sneak his little hand inside the small compartment. "This is for you!"

"You are going home? Why?" Taking the small Mars bar from the little one, he kept it in his hand as he helped him put on his backpack again.

"Mommy’s done with her work early today, so I’m going out on a date!"

Charles grabbed his little arm before he could sprint away. "You? You are going out on a date? Wait, with who?"

"Adam!"

The driver’s facial expression went blank as he heard the voice. The little arm in his hand slipped off as he saw the little one run and hug the legs of the woman he has been dying to talk to over the past couple of months.

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"Mommy!"

You ruffled his hair as he crashed into you. "Have you met your Charlie?" Bending down, you squeezed his chubby cheeks as you took his hand in yours.

"Yes! That’s Charlie!" He exclaimed, pointing at someone.

You saw Charles still crouching down with a Mars bar in his hand. He was already looking at you as you laid your eyes on him. He looked surprised and stunned, as he didn’t seem to catch the smile you gave.

"He's—he’s yours? Adam, is your kid?" He queried, taking steps closer.

"Yeah, he’s my son. Wait–" Looking down, you cupped his little cheek. "Adam, Charlie, is Charles? Is this the friend you have been giving your candy away to?"

"Yes!" he squealed.

You thought he had been making friends with a cat or any other person, but not with an actual driver, because who would have thought he would have the most time in the world to be friends with a 4-year-old kid? "I’m so sorry if he had been bothering you. I truly had no idea about that.”

"It’s okay, Y/N. I got free candies." He showed the Mars bar he had in his hand, making you chuckle.

"I am going out on a date with mommy. Do you want to come?"

His words became a mumble as you quickly covered his mouth. "Charlie is busy, Adam." Tilting your head back and facing the driver, you asked the little one to wave before walking away. "I’ll get going now. Say bye, Adam."

"Bye, Charlie!"

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"What’s with that smile?" Joris peeked his head to look at the little kid, who kept looking back every now and then to wave his little hand at the driver.

"Nothing." Charles ripped off the Mars bar in his hand and took a bite of it, cocking his brow at Joris, who seemed to have more questions. "What?"

"Nothing." He mimicked Charles’s expression and moved away before he could get hit in the head.

"You didn’t tell me she had a kid." Charles blurted.

"I thought you wanted to figure it out yourself. Why? Does it change anything?"

"What do you mean?" He queried, taking another bite from the chocolate bar.

"Does it change your little crush on her now that you know she has a kid?"

"No, not at all. I like her even more now." He chuckled and did a double take on his friend. "Wait, how do you know I have a crush on her?"

"Because you aren’t being too discreet about it. I bet Adam knew it too. Give me that." Joris snatched the chocolate bar from the driver’s hand and took the last bite. "You shouldn’t eat too much sweet for your diet, you know."

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"Adam, I need your help." The sound of music in the room was cut off when the driver finally spoke what had been in his head for weeks. Charles was lying down on the couch in his driver room with his little friend, while the little one was too busy colouring the dinosaur from his book.

"More candy?" He asked, switching to a different colour pencil from his case.

"No, not candy. I wanted to ask your mom on a date." He put his phone away and sat up, looking at the little one full of anticipation.

"No."

"Wait, what? Why?" Charles stood up and took a seat by Adam’s side. He casually started participating in the colouring activity as he took a blue pencil and started filling in the tail section of the dinosaur. "I thought we were friends?"

"Mommy only goes on a date with me."

"She might want to go on a date with me." He assured him, helping him change to a different coloured pencil.

"I don’t want mommy to cry again, so, no. I need to go now!" He stood up and packed his colourful stuff inside his little backpack with the help of the driver.

"I won’t make her cry, Adam." Charles handed him his colouring book as the toddler stood up to leave.

"That’s what Daddy used to say too. Bye bye, Charlie!"

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"Charlie hurt?" 

"Yes, sweetheart. He crashed today, so you shouldn’t bug him, okay? Just stay here." You pinched his little cheek before handing him his iPad. "Not too long. Turn it off when mommy says so, alright?"

Adam did listen to you and stayed in the break room while you sorted out a few things before race day tomorrow. There wasn’t any meeting until the next hour, so you got to do your work while listening to your kid watch Coco ten times this weekend.

Until you heard a knock on the door,

"Hi. Uhm, I’m looking for Adam." Your eyes widened as the driver peeked his head inside the room.

"Charlie!" He put his iPad to the side and hopped off the couch to run straight into Charles’s arms.

"Why didn’t you come to see me?"

"Mommy said I shouldn’t bug you. Are you okay?" You chuckled when he cupped the driver’s cheeks with his small hands.

"Yeah, I’m okay. Wait, actually, not really."

To that, Adam gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh, no! You need candy?"

"Come here." Charles pulled your son to the end of the room, so you were no longer able to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You saw those two start whispering something, giggling, and laughing while you were left out. "Bye Charlie!" He waved as the driver trod, leaving the break room.

"Bye, munchkin. See you, Y/N. You look beautiful in a ponytail, by the way."

You were taken back by the sudden compliment, and your hand went to stroke your hair now that he mentioned it. "But I always have my hair tied?"

"Yeah, that’s what I meant." He gave a wink before walking away, leaving you and your toddler, who seemed to find the whole situation funny.

"What did he tell you?" You tried to pry into their business, acting casual by going back to your work.

"It’s a secret!" He winked, which looked more like a face scrunch as he went back on his iPad, making you frown in confusion.

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"Go! Open the door!"

"I can’t. Give me a second."

"Why?"

"I’m nervous, buddy."

"I’ll open it for you!"

"No, no!"

You were staying in the break room, playing with your phone while your little one stayed outside, watching an army of people in the paddock celebrate the drivers on the podium. He had promised to stay just outside the room so you wouldn’t have to worry about him being in the crowd, but minutes later, you kept hearing whispers right outside the door. You weren’t sure who the owner of the other one was, but you were so sure one of them belonged to your son.

"Mommy?" 

"The door is not locked, love. Just come in." You replied and went back to your phone, expecting him to walk in, but he didn’t.

"Go, Charlie!”

"Is there anything wrong?" Placing the phone away, you pushed the door open and saw that your toddler kept on pushing the driver towards your door. "Charles? Do you need anything?"

"Y/N. Actually–"

"Charlie wants to ask you out on a date!" Adam cut in.

The words made you flabbergasted. That was impossible. Why would he ask you out on a date when every woman he met on a daily basis dressed up way better and had better body shape than you?

And they were single. While you were a divorcee, you even had a kid.

"Stop joking around, Adam. Leave Charlie alone, okay?" Adam hid behind the driver as you tried to grab his arm, giggling while hugging Charles’s legs.

"Would you go out on a date with me?"

You gave a dry smile and shook your head right away. "Sorry, Charles. I have a kid, remember? Who’s going to take care of him if I—“

"Joris will play with me! Right, Charlie?" He pulled on the Ferrari’s shirt, chuckling as he felt Charles’s hand on his neck.

"Joris agreed to take care of Adam for one night. They are best friends." Charles assured.

"I can’t, Charles. I’m so sorry."

He followed you inside while Adam stayed outside to find Joris. "But why?" You ignored him. "Y/N, why?"

"I should be asking you that. Why me? I don’t get it. I have a kid, Charles." You took your phone and started taking your laptop bag.

"And what’s wrong with that?"

"Nothing’s wrong, but you have all those hot girls ready for you to ask them out. I am way out of your league, Charles." 

He held your arm to stop you from walking out of the room. "I got Adam’s permission, and I promised him that I was going to take you out. Please give me a chance."

"How did you get his permission?"

You saw him awkwardly smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "He promised me his permission if I ended up in the top 5 this weekend."

Laughing, you rolled your eyes at how ridiculous the deal was.

"Is that a yes?" He tilted his head, having a little faith in how the tension in the room seemed to die down.

"Fine. Just one date."

To that, he bit his lips and threw up a fist. "Yes! You’ll be in Maranello next weekend, yeah? I’ll pick up."

"Sure, I’ll send you the address."

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"Be nice to Joris, alright?"

"Mommy looks very pretty!" He placed both of his palms on your cheeks and gave you a kiss before hugging you by the neck. "Have fun with Charlie! Let me know if he makes you cry, and I’ll." He showed you his little fist. "I’ll hit him!"

Giggling, you kiss him back on his cheek. "I thought you said he was nice."

"Yeah, Charlie is very nice. That’s why I let him take mommy out on a date." He ran towards the main door as Joris helped put his sneakers on. "Bye mommy!"

Back then, when he was born, you always worried if you were able to raise him all on your own. If you could take on both responsibilities as his mother and father figure at a young age, You were grateful enough, as he had grown up to be a very gentle and cheerful kid, despite what he had witnessed occasionally whenever your ex-husband paid a visit. He was never a good dad. He never wanted to be one. Adam barely called him dad. He never knew what it felt like to have a dad, but he would always reassure you that he was glad enough to have the perfect mom. Though you tried to keep your marriage problems between you and your ex-husband, Adam was smart enough to figure out what his dad was like. Whenever your ex-husband came by, you would always get bruises on your body. Maybe that was why your little one grew up to be very protective of you, despite his age.

Charles had told you he was a few minutes away, so you weren’t expecting to see your former spouse when you opened the door.

"Where are you going?" He pushed the door and walked inside as if he had any right to do so.

"It’s none of your business. Please leave."

"It’s my house. Where’s Adam? And why are you all dressed up?" He scanned you up and down, smirking as if you looked humorous.

"Leave, please."

"Come on, baby. I haven’t seen you for months. I have missed you."

You pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. Whenever you were home, he would always come by to ask for sex. He would beat you up if you ever resisted any of his attempts, but you would rather get beaten than be in the same bed with him again. You were just glad Adam wasn’t here to witness it all again. "Leave me alone!" You yelled, pushing him off from pinning your body against the wall.

"You fucking bitc—who’s that?" His hand, which was about to hit you in the face, came to an abrupt stop when the doorbell rang.

"It’s no one." The doorbell rang again.

"Go and open the door. It’s fucking annoying." He pushed you on your head, making you jerk forward towards the door.

You wiped on your tears that rolled down your cheeks before twisting the lock as you were greeted by Charles, with his dimples that went shallow as soon as he saw you.

"Y/N? Are you crying?"

You let out a sob and tilted your face away from the tears that rolled down your cheeks again. "I’m sorry, I can’t make it today."

"What’s wrong? Did something happen?" He gently tilted your face and felt his stomach drop when he saw your broken expression. "What happened, Y/N?"

"I–" You sobbed again.

"She wants you to leave, kid."

Charles pushed the door wider as he walked in and stood in front of you. "Who are you?"

"I’m her husband."

You felt his hand on your arm as he pulled you closer; his gaze was still locked on the older guy.

Charles let out a chuckle, seeing how absurd this whole situation was. "So, you are the ex-husband. Well, I don’t think it was me who wasn’t supposed to be in here."

"Kid, this is my house, and that bitch that you are touching is mine." He snarled.

"Don’t call me that. And she’s not yours." Charles furrowed at the man, feeling your hand gripping his arm.

"Ah, so she’s yours now? Did you claim her yet?"

"She’s not mine. She’s no one's possession because she’s not a fucking item. You should leave." His teeth were clenched as his gaze pierced the man. "Leave before I call the cops on you."

"I’ll get going first, baby. See you when this motherfucker is gone, yeah?" You flinched when you felt his cold skin on your cheek.

"Don’t fucking touch her." Charles yanked his hand away and locked the door after the older man was gone, leaving you and him alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Charles cupped on your face, heaving a sigh of relief when there wasn’t anything serious as you shook your head at his question.

Charles wanted to ask a lot of questions, but you were still shaken up by the whole thing, so he grabbed you by your hand as both of you settled down on the couch.

"You can leave, Charles. I’m sorry for ruining your night."

"It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. And who said the date was ruined? Adam told me you love pizza, so are you up for a pizza night?" He found himself grinning when he saw that little smile on your beautiful face.

It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date; instead, you were sitting on the couch with a box of pizza while watching a Disney movie. Charles had to pick out the pineapple on every slice of pizza and vocally judged you on your preference because there was no way he could eat a pizza with a pineapple together.

But it was a very fun night. It was enough to make you completely forget what had happened earlier, but enough to not make the day all about that.

"Y/N, can I ask something?" He picked out another pineapple, trying so hard not to make a disgusted face, which made you laugh.

"Is this about what happened?" You confirmed.

"Yeah, but if you don’t feel comfortable answering, then it’s fine." Charles took a bite of his now pineapple-free pizza.

"No, it’s okay. You can ask." You collected the pineapple he picked off and ate it on its own.

"How long?"

"How long has it been since he did that? It was on and off. If he got a new girlfriend, he would stop coming by for a couple of months." You saw the look he had on you, and it made you feel sad at how bad your life has turned out to be.

"You didn’t report to the police?"

"I did, but I never got any further updates. I even tried to move away, but he always managed to find me back. Which is why I’m always happy whenever I have to travel for work. That way, he won’t be able to ruin my life, and Adam could live his life as a child without having to worry about me." You looked away as you started to clean up the empty box as an excuse so you wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer or you would be crying again.

"I’ll see what I can do. It’s about time for the authority to take action about this. I promise I’ll help you."

"Thank you, Charles. I owe you a lot. I really don’t know how to pay you back." You beamed and dipped your hand in the small box.

"You still owe me a proper date?"

"Fine, make it the second date. Do you want candy?" You handed him one as you popped one in your mouth.

"Ah!" Charles blurted it out, making you jump. "How could I miss this?" He took the sour candy and burst out laughing. It was the same candy that he had been getting from Adam way before he found out he was related to you. "Adam had been stealing your sour candies all this time to share them with me."

"Really?" You laughed along, connecting the dots as to why your candy seemed to be way less than it should have been.

"Guess I love sour candies now." He threw one into his mouth and shivered at the sourness.

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

[apclyptc]

DUMB— chris sturniolo x reader

synopsis: reader is smart and top of her class in college. chris however, is not too interested in her intelligence.

warnings: full on smut, swearing and also drinking/smoking, use of the pet name baby, use of the word slut, dumbification, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex

“hit her from the back she can’t do nothing but yell,

and she smart as fuck i got this bitch straight out of yale”

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Ever since you were younger, you seemed to have a gift for memorising and holding information. Because of this, people assumed you studied constantly.

Obviously, you did study. But it wasn’t like you didn’t have a social life. You enjoyed college parties like any other person would.

So when a guy in your class invited you to his frat house for a party, of course you didn’t refuse.

The only thing was, this guy just happened to be Chris.

He was in your social studies class, usually sat at the very back with a couple of his friends in the lecture. You knew of each other, having shared mutual friends from other classes. You’d never really spoken to him one-to-one, mainly because he was always socialising with pretty much everyone, and while you weren’t shy, you also weren’t a huge fan of jumping into conversations with people who all knew each other prior.

It also didn’t help that Chris was the most attractive man you had seen in college, or maybe in your life.

You were good at hiding it, but he made you nervous. Of course, when he invited you to his fraternity house, you faked an air of confidence so you didn’t weird him out.

“Hey, it’s Y/N, right?” Chris began, and when you affirmed with a nod he continued, “I’m throwing a party tonight, you should come.” He threw a smile in your direction, and you pushed down the immediate feeling of giddiness before answering.

“Yeah sure, sounds good. When does it start?” You asked nonchalantly as you could.

“Around 10. You can come whenever, it will be on way into the morning anyway.”

“Great. Am I good to bring a couple friends?” You replied, not wanting to walk into a party alone.

“Yeah that’s fine with me. Ask your friend Lola, my buddy Nate has a thing for her. Just don’t tell him I told you that.” He smirked at you.

That smirk. You wished you could see that smirk while he was hovering over you as he sla—

“Lola, yeah! I’ll bring her along with me.” You snapped out of your less than decent reverie and gave Chris a response.

“Perfect. I’ll see you there, Y/N.” He gave a quick glance up and down your body before turning and walking away from you.

It was then you realised, you had absolutely nothing to wear. Plus, since Chris just personally asked you, you decided you may as well dress as hot as possible.

Y/N: hey lola, frat party tonight?

Lola: do u even have to ask??? usually it’s me dragging u to these things

Y/N: true lmao. i’m gonna need to borrow something from ur closet

Lola: ooooh why, do u need smth slutty?

Y/N: maybe

maybe i was personally invited by the party thrower

Lola: who

Y/N: chris 😇

Lola: GIRL-

ok ok i’ll give u the sluttiest thing i can find

come over later and we can pick something out for u

A couple of hours later once you were finished at college, you headed to your best friend Lola’s dorm.

You two had spent what seemed like hours choosing each other’s outfits.

“By the way, a little birdie told me that Nate has a thing for you.” You eyed Lola up, knowing she had a soft spot for him.

“Oh, really? That’s interesting. Totally unrelated but would you still happen to have that box of condoms I gave you for secret santa last year?” Lola gave you a suggestive look, raising her eyebrows.

“Of course. Already put two in my bag.” You both laughed.

You arrived at the party at 11:27, mainly because no one turns up to a party on time, but also because Lola took a ridiculous amount of time to get ready.

You met up with a couple of girls from the dorms opposite Lola, seeing as they were also invited.

As soon as you arrived, you were immediately shown to the kitchen where an array of bottles were displayed.

Vodka, whiskey, rum, tequila and practically any spirit you could think of, were decorated around the kitchen.

You grabbed two cups, one for you and Lola, and filled it with vodka and soda.

“Hey, I think I see Nate and Chris over there.” Lola points behind you through to the games room, where lo and behold, Nate and Chris were playing what looked like an intense game of beer pong.

The two of you walked over to them, Nate noticing you first.

“Hey! Come help me win the game, Lola.” He gestured for her to play with him.

Chris had then turned around to see you, that smirk appearing yet again.

“You gonna help me?”

You took a quick swig of the contents in your cup before joining Chris at the table.

“Atta girl. Nice of you to bring Lola for my bro.” He spoke in a low voice so that only you could hear.

“Chris, stop flirting and throw the damn ball.” Nate teased, and you felt your cheeks grow red.

Chris threw the ball into the cup closest to him, the object landing into the beer and making a splash.

“Drink up, fool.” he glanced at you to make sure you were watching.

After a while, you had enough to drink to give you a confidence boost, and were now invested in the game of beer pong.

It was down to one cup each, and you had to make the final shot.

“Come on, Y/N,” Chris spoke from behind you, “you got it.”

It was too hard to concentrate with his voice so close to your ear, and his body so close to yours. You threw the ball, but it narrowly missed the cup.

“Yes! Chris you’re a loser!” Nate laughed at his best friend across from the table, throwing his arm around Lola who had locked eyes with you as he did this.

‘Don’t forget the condom’, you mouthed to her playfully, and she winked, pointing to her pocket.

Nate and Lola had then disappeared together, leaving you alone with Chris.

“Sorry I missed the cup.” You joked.

“Apology accepted. You wanna smoke with me?” He pulled out a perfectly rolled joint from his pocket.

You weren’t a huge smoker, only joining with Lola occasionally when you felt like unwinding.

Nevertheless you agreed, deciding you may as well since you were at a party.

Chris lead you upstairs into his room. Your eyes immediately glanced around the room, taking in its appearance.

Chris sat on the edge of his bed, and you followed.

“Could you get my lighter, it’s in the top drawer over there.” He pointed to the bedside table at the wall, and you grabbed the device, passing it to him which he thanked you for.

“Lola and Nate seem to hit it off.” You spoke.

Chris held the joint between his lips, lighting it before replying, “he’s down bad for her. Has been for a while.”

You giggled to yourself, knowing Lola felt the same about him. It was a good feeling for you, because you knew Nate was a nice guy.

“They’re a good match. Nate’s a good guy for her." You responded, watching Chris take the first hit of weed and exhaling the thick smoke.

“Yeah? Is that what you’re into? Nice guys?” He asked you, taking another hit before passing it to you.

You took the joint from his hand and inhaled.

“I guess. I think I prefer someone more… unpredictable.” You had Chris in mind as you answered. You had yet to figure out why he invited you here himself, since you didn’t know each other that well.

“In what way?”

“I don’t know, someone I can’t figure out. I like to be kept on my feet, someone like Nate is easy to understand because he’s straightforward. Which is great for Lola, she deserves someone who is like that.” You thought about all the past few guys Lola had a thing with. They weren’t that nice.

You passed the joint back to Chris who had his eyes trained on you as you spoke.

“So you like the tension, not knowing when or if someone wants you.” He tried to understand.

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice when it’s easy. But..” You trailed off.

“It’s more fun not to know.” Chris finished your trail of thought as if he knew the feeling.

“Exactly.”

A comfortable silence sat between you, passing the joint back and forth until it was gone.

“I have a question.” You asked, breaking the silence.

Chris tapped the joint out on his bedside table, and brought his attention back to you, “Go ahead.”

“Why did you invite me here? I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want to come, it’s just that we haven’t really talked much.” You asked, needing to know.

Chris chuckled.

“I thought it was more fun not to know?” He smirked, using your own logic against you.

“Come on! Tell me.” You persisted.

Chris leaned in closer to you, and you could swear your heart was beating out of your chest.

“I always see you in class,” He began to explain, continuing to close the gap between you, “sitting close to the front, answering all the questions. You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”

The tension was palpable, and you felt yourself grow wetter as his low voice penetrated your ears.

“I want an answer.” He demanded.

“I- I guess so.” Your voice wavered, all of a sudden finding it hard to speak.

“I’ve always wanted to see how long it takes until I can make you speechless.”

And it surely didn’t take long, because in moments his lips were on yours.

It was as if every guy you had dated never existed, the feeling of Chris kissing you overrode any experience you had thus far.

His left hand rested on the back of your neck while his other hand took the opportunity to roam around your body, from your thighs to your chest, until it landed on your waist.

Your hands swiftly made their way to his arm and hair, while deepening the kiss he had started.

In a quick movement he lifted you onto his lap, letting both his hands find purchase on your waist.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you slowly moved your hips rhythmically, earning a soft grunt from him.

Pulling away, he spoke, “You want to do this?”

You nodded, before asking the same of him.

“Do you?”

That same smirk that sent you reeling reappeared again.

“Does this answer your question?” He grinded his hips upwards into you, allowing you to feel his growing hard-on.

A whine escaped from your lips.

“No more talking.”

You reconnected your lips to his, the energy of the room turning into heated passion.

Chris’ hands slowly dragged down to your ass, kneading them with roughness.

You whined again, unable to stop any sounds from leaving your mouth.

The sound of the ongoing party downstairs could be faintly heard from inside the room, but you paid it no mind. You couldn’t, not while Chris had all his attention on you.

He briefly paused to take off the top you were wearing, and then resumed with his skilled tongue, sliding against yours. He took you off his lap, not separating from you for a moment as he laid you down on your back.

“Such a smart girl in class,” he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it behind him, “Does anyone know that you’re really just a little slut?” He kissed your neck, then your jaw.

“I need an answer.” Chris demanded again, and you rubbed your thighs together in want.

“No.” You breathed.

“No, what?” His hand glided up your thigh, separating them.

“I’m not a slut.” You managed to find words.

“So if I reach in between your legs, right now, you won’t be dripping for me?”

You knew you were.

A hand snaked through your skirt, pulling aside your underwear, and he slowly dragged a finger down your pussy.

“I’ve barely touched you. Do you want me to? Want me to touch you right here?” His finger, coated in your slickness, inched its way inside, just enough for you to feel it, but not enough to satisfy you.

You bucked your hips up, trying to feel something, anything.

But Chris pulled his hand away, causing you to whine in frustration.

Luckily for you, he wanted to feel you so badly, he couldn’t tease you for long. He grabbed the hem of your skirt, pulling it down your legs and threw it in the same direction as his shirt.

“I want to hear you. You love opening that mouth when we’re in class.” And with that, he pulled your underwear aside and attached his mouth straight to your throbbing clit.

All you could do was moan and writhe in his bed as he delved into your wet cunt, licking up all the arousal like a starved man.

Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on it desperately. The vibrations from the groan that left his mouth sent waves of pleasure tearing through your body.

Chris’ hands dug into the flesh of your thighs as they instinctively tried to close around his head.

“Fuck, right there!” You moaned loudly as his tongue dove inside your hole.

One of his hands left your thigh and drew circles on your clit, causing you to arch your back at the white-hot pleasure you felt from his ministrations.

Chris could feel his dick pulsate through his pants at the sounds you were making. He needed to feel you.

“You want me to fuck you, huh? Fill you up good?” He asked, and you knew by now he wanted an answer.

“Please, please, please.” Were the only words you could muster, too high on the feeling Chris had given you with his mouth.

He wasted no time on giving you what you were begging for, quickly discarding his pants and boxers, along with your bra and soaked panties.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he slid his dick over the slick of your pussy and pushed the tip in.

Your eyes had shut in anticipation, but when he made no attempt to move you opened your eyes to look at him.

He had waited until you made eye contact with him before pushing his entire dick inside you.

You both moaned at the full feeling, your walls contracting around him.

After a few seconds, Chris began to move.

Thrusting in and out at a slow pace as if to torture you, he shuddered, revelling in the feeling of your tight cunt.

“Fuck, feels so good baby.” You whined at the pet name, bringing his face down so you could kiss him again.

He started picking up the pace after this, your tongues smashing together in absolute need.

“Faster, faster.” You babbled, drunk off the sensation of his cock piston in and out of you.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you dumb?” He grunted, loving how you could barely string full sentences together.

“Yes, yes, please. Need you deeper.”

The dirty words spilling from your mouth caused him to moan, and he flipped you onto all fours.

“Wanna see that pretty little ass bounce while I fuck you.” He muttered as he entered you yet again.

His pace was relentless, his balls slapping against you from the way he was pounding deep inside you.

You were just making sounds as you tried to say “Harder, faster, more,” but the words couldn’t form properly.

“The slut wants more? Can’t even speak but you’re begging for more?” He taunted you from behind.

You felt a sharp slap on your ass, followed by a soothing rub directly after. You practically yelled as Chris’ hand came down, your cunt convulsing.

“Knew you’d like that,” he slapped your cheek again, “Can feel you squeezing around me.”

You could feel the knot in your stomach unraveling, and you knew you wouldn’t last longer.

“Chris, gonna cum.” You managed to speak between moans.

“Come on baby, need you to cum while I’m inside you.” He groaned, trying to hold his own release off.

His words guided you right to your orgasm, shaking and crying while you came.

“Fuck, you want my cum inside you? Want me to stuff you full?” His pace was losing rhythm, chasing his orgasm while simultaneously overstimulating you.

“Mm, cum inside me. Want to feel it.” You cried, thrusting into him so you could feel more of him.

“So good, feels so good. Oh, I’m gonna cum inside of you,” Chris rambled, “Gonna fill you up with it.”

His moans were uncontrollable, spilling out of him as he relished in the warm feeling of your pussy.

“Cumming.” He grunted, as ropes of his cum spurted out, coating your insides until there was nothing left.

You both took the time to catch your breath, as Chris pulled out of you with a shaky sigh.

“Let me get you a towel.”

You turned onto your back once more, trying to comprehend the mind blowing sex you just had while dozens of people were partying downstairs.

Chris came back with a towel, cleaning the both of you up and passing you your underwear back.

“Hey.” You finally spoke, tired from all the stamina you had just burned.

“Hey.” He replied back to you.

“That was… amazing.” You sighed.

“Yeah, it was fun.”

You weren’t sure if he wanted you to leave now, or if you were supposed to stay, so you opted to do nothing.

“Let me take you on a date.” He announced, and you laughed.

“Don’t you think we’ve done this all a little backwards?”

Chris smiled and brought your head to his shoulder.

“I guess I’m just unpredictable.”

You then remembered you didn’t even use the condom you brought with you. You’d have to make your first date with Chris a trip to the pharmacy.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n haha…. always wear a condom, kids!

hope you enjoyed my first oneshot.

send me any requests you want me to write! i think i’m gonna do an nsfw alphabet next, for chris and matt too

#Spotify #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo oneshot

[euaphora]

omg could u please do freaky nerdy megumi? like u guys r study buddies in college n he’s always had a crush on you but he’s been to shy to say anything until you ask him out then you find out he a lil freaky n not the “cute innocent” guy he thought he was when u guys in bed, you could also add ur magic! please and thank you 🙏🏾😽

remember when I was your women crush, he said yeah! | ft. Megumi Fushiguro

Study sessions with him were always a blast because when you would get distracted, he would always remind you to focus and talk about your grade in that class.

It was never in a mean way but in a way were you felt comfortable telling him what you struggled with so when you had texted him to come over to help you, how could he say no?

He had panned on making up an excuse again, “sorry my friends want to hang out,” or would straight up tell you he had something going on. Of course he did, he had been pumping his fist to a picture he took of you in wide ultra on his iphone, you didn’t think much of it is you let him take pictures.

The picture had you take up the whole screen, cleavage showing everything beneath your shirt, almost getting dressed coded from showing your strap. You had your lips in a pouty form, looking up at the camera while your brows were furrowed, imagining he was taking you from the back.

Soon as he was about to cum, his phone starts vibrating—making him sign while he takes the call—cock still in his hand while he tries to cam down his breathing.

“Gumi! Are you coming or not, I’ve been waiting forever!?” You harshly put out, making his cock twitch in his hand just by the way you were putting him in his place. “Y-yup, coming so so soon!”

You had placed the popcorn brown on the floor along with your other notebooks and laptop, feeling anxious you called megumi with an already irritated attitude and waited for him to pick up.

“Hello?” He says on the other line, sounding like he just ran a mile, very weird. You explained to him to hurry up and finish, hearing a approvals hum coming out of him, saying he’ll be here soon.

“Hurry up then, I can’t keep waiting-”

A whimper accidentally falls from his lips, making your body stiffen by the way he sounded, feeling yourself get wet already.

“megumi…”

“please tell me you didn’t hear that, please.”

“I wouldn’t want to be lying to you, now come over.” You demand, hanging up. A couple minutes later you hear a knock on the door, quickly running towards it while you set your phone down on the counter, peeping through the small whole you to see him looking down, nervous as ever.

“Come in.”

He enters your small apartment your parents had boughten you so they wouldn’t have to be constant helping you pay for your dorm. Before he could even explain himself you pull his in by the back of his head and crash your lisp into his, he feels his hard bulge coming back, making you feel it around your lower parts, height difference between you two.

You smile into the kiss but try and pull away, making him a little upset just to pull you back into the kiss, giving you a passionate one. He pulls back this time, “I could explain..”.

“Explain what? That you got off to someone when you were suppose to be studying with me?” You ask, remembering he had picked up the phone with lewd sounds coming from the other side.

“It was you, I had been getting myself off to..you, I just didn’t know how to tell you ‘cause I don’t want you to think bad of me, y/n.” He explains, giving little goosebumps to his answer.

“Oh.” You whisper, almost nothing coming out from how quiet you had said it. “Do you need help?” You mention your hand to his hard on, making you giggle a little. He looks down at it then up at you, giving you pleading eyes, “please..” he groans.

You pull him by his hand, walking towards the couch while he follows behind you, “sit down.” He didn’t have to be told twice, he places his body on the couch, getting nervous on how this was going to go down.

“Don’t be nervous, baby.” You coo, already on your knees with your hands wrapped around gis cock, pumping out the pre-cum from the tip as you give him a big smile.

He can’t help but watch you tease him, “c’mon, don’t be like that with me,please!” He moans out, showing how vocal he can be in bed, making your head go crazy.

Wrapping your lips around his tip, you use your hands to massage and lightly squeeze his balls while he pushes his head back from the pleasure. “God! Use me, do whatever you want.. just ‘wanna cum in your mouth.”

Fitting his entire dick inside your mouth, he looked down at your current state, mascara running, brows furrowed and tears slipping from your eyes, making him cum on the spot.

“Yes, oh my god!”

You look up at him and see him whine out after all that he came, you make a pop sound when you remove your round lips away from his now soft and light red colored cock, “Did that feel good, baby?”

“Felt amazing, holy shit..!”

His ropes of cum fell all over your upper body- breasts, face, hair- picking some up with your fingers.

“Sorry, let me get a towel.”

#euaphora #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #megumi smut #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi x you #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro smut #megumi imagine #jjk smut #toji smut #geto smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu toji #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu itadori #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut

[nexusnyx]

Me & Mr. Miller

au!Joel Miller x f!Reader [5.2k] summary: You and Joel had a deal to stay away from each other. The only obstacle is—neither one of you wants to do that. He might be the father of one of your closest friends and someone a few (many) years older than you, but... who cared. Not you. Not him. The deal wasn't going as planned. 📝 in this scenario the outbreak never happened! joel miller is doing just fine! If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ age gap, misunderstanding, secret relationship, pining, strangers to lovers. Oral (f receiving), penetration (p in v), unprotected sex, dirty talking, love-making.

masterlist |

ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Winter of 2023.

"Aw, shit, Joel. Fuck," Tess turned to him with her face twisted into a weird, panicked smile, and that's exactly when Joel realized he'd gone and fucked up again somehow. "You set me up. You set me up!"

"What?!"

"We could've at least told me you were inviting me to Sarah's birthday to be eaten fuckin' alive—is she still looking at me? Goddamn," the panic left for a second, replaced with a knowing smirk that he was unfortunately too familiar with. "She's got really nice eyes, I'll tell you that much. Were you gonna tell me I came here to make your girlfriend jealous? And really—is she still looking? 'Cause those are very intimidating eyes, and I'm gonna need to prepare myself."

There was no preparing to look into your eyes.

Joel would know.

He was done for the minute he laid eyes on you. The way you looked at him.

His hands started to sweat, and his mouth ran dry. He had to look. Gravity couldn't keep him from it.

"You know... a lot makes sense now," Tess starts.

"Don't."

Tess chuckles, hiding it in her drink. "Jeez—did you win her by blabbering her ears out? 'Cause I only got a single look into Miss Daggers for Eyes, but she looks—"

"Jesus Christ, I'm gonna regret having brought you, won't I?" Joel interrupts because he can't turn around as sharply as he'd like, and he can feel it already. Your eyes on him.

Tess stops hiding her laughter, "Oh, for sure. And only because I'm gonna make it very hard for you because you didn't tell me. Because you think that not talking about it makes things just... go away," she wiggles her fingers like dandelions in the sky, and Joel loves his best friend, but she can be a bit of a dick.

"I was gonna tell you," he sighs, fidgeting inside the stupid blazer; sipping his bourbon to ease the jitteriness inside his skin already proved to be a terrible fucking idea when in your presence. "I was—" and where are you? There are a lot of people behind Tess' shoulders and Joel could spot you in a football crowd.

"Jesus." Tess enunciates every letter. "Joel, find her so you can have your focus back."

"Just for the record, she isn't my girlfriend," he states.

Tess scoffs, and it says more than words could.

"She isn't," he presses.

"I believe you," says Tess. "But now I also know I wasn't crazy when I said you were happier last year after going to New York. You were. And Miss Daggers for Eyes—"

"She has a name."

"—is the reason. Does she? Does she have a name, Joel? Her parents are so kind for giving her one," Tess sasses. "I would know her name if you hadn't hidden her from me."

"I didn't hide anybody, there was nobody to hide. Also, can you shut up? You're louder than my thoughts."

The next laugh comes accompanied by a slap on the shoulder, and Tess walking away, but not before whispering in his ear. "Joel, buddy, I wholeheartedly believe you had the best intentions with bringing me here, but here's a tip you didn't ask for: Not one of you is as over whatever the hell happened as you may think. Talk to her."

Talk to her.

As if it was that simple.

As if there wasn't a deal.

Joel needs to find you, but first, he needs another drink.

He gulps down his glass and tries to smile as the guests pass him by. None of them seem to notice his imminent heart attack. None of them see through his carefully curated nonchalance, and he's happy about that.

There's already a person present who can see through him like glass, and he can barely deal with that one.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤNYC, Spring of 2022.

You stood no chance against him.

The first time you saw him, Joel looked like a Wes Anderson visual.

Pink suit, grey strands unabashedly mixed in his soft, shiny black hair, and a shy smile to put any of the other men present to shame.

You were drawn like a moth to a flame.

He looked quite serious without that beautiful smile on—he looked like someone who would, in fact, never wear a pink suit, so you walked over to him and slid right next to his spot at the bar. "That's a bold outfit choice," were your first words. You smiled when his eyes landed on you, so wide and filled with surprise; warm, and stunning like a hot summer day. "But it suits you."

Joel looked stunned for a moment.

He blinked, sipped his bourbon glass and his eyes did a not-subtle-at-all up and down. Then, he put down his glass and the corner of his mouth twitched with the idea of a smile. "I lost a bet," he answered. You recognized the southern accent immediately. "Believe it or not."

"Oh, I believe you," you chuckled.

"It suits me, though?" he asked, opening his arms to the sides.

You nodded. "It does," your peripheral vision caught Bruna approaching behind the bar, and you smiled at her. "Hi, babe. Can I get a caipirinha, please?"

"Hey, girl," she smiled at you and used all of her subtlety to glance at Joel observing the exchange. "Sure thing. Vodka, sake, or cachaça?"

"Bruna, you know there's only one way to do a proper caipirinha," you rolled your eyes.

Bruna smiled. "Cachaça it is, then. Lemon, or something else?"

"Hm, how about an unexpected fruit? Surprise me."

"You got it. Anything else?" she asked.

"Nope, just remember to drink some water. You always work too hard," you winked at her.

Bruna left to make your drink with a blinding smile on her face, and you turned around to find Joel staring. He leaned on the counter with his arm supported on it, and as soon as you looked at him he asked, "Where d'you two know each other from?"

You pointed at the huge banners of NYU standing behind you. "She goes there — I go there."

"You go to NYU?"

"I do," you answered. "Getting my phD, actually," your smile always came out at that.

Joel's face never hides his surprise, but the smile was unexpected and very welcome. "Wow. Congratulations."

"Thank you. I imagine you're here because of the Spring exhibition?" you looked around at the gallery where everyone around looked as posh as you and he did, save for the curious New Yorker just enjoying their walk.

"I am. My daughter has a paper on display on the third floor," he replied.

"Politics and Law area?"

"That's her," he confirmed.

"I have a few close friends in the department," you smiled. "It was my first stop."

"Are you here showin' something too?"

"I'm actually here as one of 'somethings' to show?" No matter how long in the business, talking about being the art itself was always surreal. Especially in front of otherwordly handsome and charming men. Where was Bruna with your drink when you needed her? "My roommate's exhibition won the main exhibit, and we — dancers — are her tool. Her paint."

"You're part of the main exhibit?" He looked every bit impressed, and you nodded, feeling giddy at the prospect. "Double wow. Wait—shouldn't you be backstage, then?"

"Oh, no, gods, no. This whole thing stays here all afternoon, the final piece is only at sunrise—6pm, kinda?"

"Okay. And do I get to know your name before you run off to become art or d'you plan on dropping a crystal shoe so I can roam around later tryin' to find out?"

That had been the first time he made you laugh.

Truly laugh; not a few breaths out of your nose or an easy chuckle—Joel was silly, and he looked like modern-day Adonis in the stupid pink suit that he only wore because of a goddamn bet, and you had no chance.

"I'm Joel," he extended his hand.

That had been the doom of it all—no last names. Only smiles.

You shook his hand and offered your name back, only for him to repeat it out loud.

Test it on his tongue.

You were always doomed.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Winter of 2023.

Jealousy looked godly on you.

Joel hated himself for even thinking it, but he hated himself a lot this evening.

He had hurt you, for starters.

The only thing he set himself not to do, and he'd done it.

More than a year has passed since the fateful day you stepped, yet better—waltzed into his field of vision, and had he known a day of peace ever since?

The day he met you still played on his head like a broken record stuck inside a player:

Saying goodbye to Sarah in front of the gallery, turning around the corner, and seeing you with smoke blowing in front of your face, smiling at the sight of him. You in your green dress. The happiness written all over you, the obvious and earnest glee of seeing that Joel was still around.

Walking with you all around New York, feeling three times less intimidated by the imposing streets with you by his side. The smell of your apartment, the street food you two got on the way, the conversation that flowed as easy as a river stream.

Joel had the imprint of your shining personality burning behind his eyelids. The taste of strawberry from your caipirinha permanently inked on his tongue.

He stood no chance against your eyes—as much as she teased, Tess was right.

Miss Daggers for Eyes.

The way you looked at him at said, "You gotta stop looking at me like that, Joel. I'm starting to think you're not paying attention to what I'm saying," even though you already knew that to be true. Since the moment the strap of your blouse fell from your shoulders and you kept on talking, Joel was fish in a net.

He had the taste of your cunt and the smell of being buried between your thighs waking him up late at night for the next months to come.

The way you rode his face just as he asked you to—no mercy, no shame, only that, only your desires and the alcohol and the weed and the conversation and everything—everything, everything, everything.

Joel took it all out like a starved, greedy man, and you took it back, and neither of you slept until the sun was shining again in the sky.

The next couple of months were filled with texts since Texas demanded him back home and you were already home.

It could've been just friendship.

It was supposed to be simple.

So what if you two called each other and got off while on the phone like a couple of young adults who can't bear to be away from each other? So what if Joel texted you and had to endure Tess and other co-workers smiling at him and wondering, "what the hell's got Joel Damn Miller in a good mood, huh?"

So what if Joel learned more about you than he could admit to himself that he even wanted to know? Even if he was the one asking?

It didn't matter, because it wasn't simple.

Because when you called and said, "Your name is Joel Miller?" he realized why Sarah said he was such a 'distant concept'. No social media meant nobody to pry, but it also meant misunderstandings.

It also meant having to answer you with apprehension, because your tone had never been that off. "It is. Why are you sayin' it like I'm on a list or somethin'?"

"Joel." His stomach fell at his name alone. "You're Sarah's dad. Fuck. Of course you are—"

"Wait, you know Sarah?"

"Yes, I know Sarah. I'm friends with Sarah, or I was before—oh god, she's gonna kill me. She is, isn't she?"

He had assisted you through your panic even though he felt the same.

He walked outside his office, talked you through your next breaths, and guaranteed you there was no reason to panic. "That's it, it's ok, hun'—," he stopped, cursed mentally, and rectified his mistake with his name. You were not his hun, and Joel had been lost on cloud nine without realizing you could've never been. "Just breathe. She doesn't know. She won't know. You two are fine."

That had been it, or so he thought.

Joel stared a lot at the last message he received from you. Thought about sending something else. Continuing the conversation.

Instead, he let the silence make the dust settle.

It had been a haze.

A dream, or a glitch in the matrix—it wouldn't be happening again, and no matter how much he looked at the text you sent weeks prior — i really like talking to you, Joel — nothing would change.

Except it did.

Except — the silence amounted to nothing.

One look at you across the street and Joel was dragged back in.

That Summer when Sarah invited him back, Joel had almost said no, but he remained as able to deny her anything as when she was a kid. The weekend went perfectly, and Joel did his best to not think of you as he was there, but all it took was a few words on a screen:

ㅤㅤㅤㅤSaw Sarah's IG stories. You loaok so good when you smile , JoelㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLove how the sweater looks on yoyu

Drunk baby. Honey.

The second time there was no deal on the table yet, but there was you.

Joel appeared at your apartment door at twenty past two in the morning and only left a couple of hours before his plane left.

You two pretended your apartment was a bubble.

It worked.

Joel had missed you. It sounded silly when he thought it early in the morning before leaving for work—when everyday routine served as bitter medicine it was enough to convince himself it was all just wishful thinking.

With you in the same room as him, lying was harder.

There was no 'wishful' part on how well you two worked.

There was a divine inspiration in the way you made him feel like something new.

Joel felt warm, wanted, devilishly handsome under your gaze. Your careful touch.

"You're so fucking handsome," you repeated to him.

He never thought about his looks, but he couldn't stop himself from enjoying the truth in your words. How much you believed them. "Glad you think so."

"Don't snicker at me like that, Mr. Joel—"

"Snicker? I ain't snickerin', I'm laughin'. You keep tracing my wrinkles like that and I'm gonna get a complex, hun."

"The drama. You're so lame! Oh my god."

"And yet, you're laughing. You know, that's the same shit my daughter says. I'm startin' to think it's true."

"It is. You're silly. But it's okay —" the tip of your fingers tracing his features felt like the first drops of rain hitting the skin. Joel shivered under your touch more times than he cared to count, and he'd only been present for it a couple of times. He'd hate to think of how much you could ruin him with enough time given. How much no other touch would suffice anymore. " — 'cause it's all part of your charm..."

Who would've thought Joel still had it?

Charm.

No amount of charm made up for the situation, though, and before you left, you asked the inevitable question. "No one can know, right?"

"No." He knew what was at stake—your friendship with his most important person. Maybe more. "It was just our last time."

"Right. We're not doing this again."

"We can stay away from each other. I like it like this," he said, pressing his face in your beard-burnt neck, inhaling your sigh and perfume. "But I know..." she can't know.

No—no one can know.

He nuzzled into you, and you nuzzled back. Dug your fingers in the fabric of his shirt. "We can still... talk, can't we?" you asked.

Joel's chest clutched and he held you a little tighter. None of you were at fault for the circumstances, so you both deserved some more stolen time. "We'll talk." He kissed under your ear. "We'll stay away from each other. Talk. Friends can talk. We just—we don't do this anymore. And, no one can know it happened."

"Okay." You sounded muffled against his chest, and Joel thought about how he'd miss touching your hair like this. "I'll just — take a while. To be able to look at you and not —" you stopped abruptly, and pulled away to look up at him and show him not what.

Not look at him with eyes that demanded a kiss.

Without pulling him in by the fire in your eyes.

That had been then — July gave him you again. You for the last time.

The next time Joel saw you after that had been a few weeks ago. Sarah invited you to a party during the holidays, and third time was the charm.

You two talked like good, old friends.

The longing in his chest was ridiculous, the whole entire time.

Now—

jealousy looks good on you.

Sarah's birthday was big enough for Joel to have his eyes on you without you even realizing it. From his bedroom porch, Joel saw you walking by the pool between the guests with that set to your jaw. Another friend of Sarah's stopped you and started a conversation, but the look refused to leave your face.

The problem was—there was nothing Joel could do.

If he pulled you aside to clarify that Tess was only a friend, a work friend who Sarah has called 'Aunty Tess' since she was fourteen, he would be wrong.

Rubbing salt on the wound.

What did it matter what Tess was?

You two had a deal.

Gods, Joel was getting too old for this—too old to watch things from a distance, to see the sadness on the pout of your lips and crave to run and kiss it away, to realize when the lights of the party hit your face in the right angles that your eyes are shining and fuck—

He gets back downstairs and leaves the glass somewhere along the way.

No more bourbon for him.

Joel hears his name called a few times. Allows himself to be distracted by conversation here and there. He's good at lying to himself—he's done it often enough by now. Joel keeps himself trimmed from the deep wants and needs that grow like weeds through his bones, even if he isn't sure why.

Something so rich like you — of course it wasn't for him.

What would he do?

You're Sarah's dad. Fuck.

Sarah's father — he clapped the louder, smiled the brighter, and when the candles were blown and she handed him the first piece of cake, Joel wondered if he should feel guilty for going after someone who's close with daughter of all people.

All he could feel was sadness as he saw you disappearing in the crowd after talking to Sarah in hushed tones inside a hug.

Joel needed to find Tess.

He should leave — his house would be the roof for a lot of people tonight and he needed to talk, maybe—Joel started laughing as soon as the thought came to him.

That's how much you affected him.

He leaves in direction of the kitchen, guarded by the commotion around the cake.

Joel had trouble finding people he liked talking to. You spoke with him for three hours as if time meant nothing, and now it got him wanting to talk about you to his friends, spilling all the bits of stolen moments here and there.

The texts he's read so many times he has memorized.

He needs to get those things off his chest if he wants to stop clinging to them— they've been inside his close fists since Joel got his hands on them — on you — and he hasn't let go ever since.

"Dad?"

He places the bottle down on the fridge shelf, happy he was caught before and not during the act. He pops his head out, and Sarah's standing on the door of the kitchen with a look.

"What?"

"I promised myself I was gonna stay out of this tonight, but — is there a reason? Any solid reason why you two decided to stay away from each other since you're both so... clearly happy about that?" she finishes, eyeing the fridge as if her view is made of x-ray, and the bottle weighs twice more in his hands.

Then—"Wait." Joel's brain freezes. "You knew?"

Sarah's eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. "Oh. My god." She blinks once, then covers a burst of laughter with both hands. "Dad. You and she are so not subtle—I thought you knew that I knew — oh my god. It's not because of me, is it? I mean—don't get me wrong, if you two as much as flirt in front of me at first I'm gonna hose both of you like, on the spot, but—I'm ok with it. Obviously. You two are two grown adults, and dad, don't take this the wrong way, but last year was the most I've seen you smile in a long, long time."

Joel needed a few minutes to take all of it in.

Was it just because of Sarah?

No one can know, you'd said. What if you were ashamed of him, too? Of the age difference, and —

"The same goes for her, obviously." Sarah's words pulled him out from underwater. "I've known her for a couple of years, but... last year was definitely happier than the other one."

He smiled. "You're the best, did you know that?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Duh."

"Tell Tess I left?"

"Sure." Sarah's smile spread. "She just left. D'you want me to text you where she's staying?"

Joel had already gifted her, but that didn't stop him from walking over to kiss her cheek and smile proudly. "I'll buy another gift."

"You better."

Joel drove all the way hoping to be right.

Hoping it hadn't all been just a fluke — the moment, a chase, a thrill.

He breathed a deep inhale before knocking on your hotel door.

It took a second before he heard your footsteps, and he wiped his palms on his jeans. "Uhm — I didn't ask for room service?" you sounded confused.

And like you'd been crying.

Fuck him. "I know you didn't."

It was him.

You wished you hadn't opened. He looks good — like always, but better. Hair slicked back, thick jacket to shield from the cold and the soft eyes; it's what bought you, and what traps you again.

You're speechless, but Joel helps.

"I just have somethin' to say and somethin' to ask, then I can be on my way. If you want," he adds.

"I thought we had a deal." It's almost like a plaster. A veil to cover the pink hue on your cheeks, maybe. "And how did you get up here without them calling me?"

He lifted his hands — your scarf was in them, and he tried very little to hide his amusement when he explained. "I've lived in this town my whole life. I just told Nina downstairs you forgot your scarf at the birthday party and you left pretty early tomorrow mornin'." Joel looks past your shoulders. "You're not the only one with friends. Can I come in?"

You wonder if it's possible to say no to him.

You simply take a step back, and Joel walks past you.

He feels like an omen standing there in your hotel room. The one you'd gotten because staying at his house seemed impossible.

The one you dreamt about him appearing out of nowhere, just like now.

If you had drunk more tonight, you would think maybe you're out of it.

"I'll keep it short, mostly 'cause I feel like a nerve wreck." Joel clears his throat and turns around to look at you as you close the door behind you. "She knows. Sarah — she uhm, she asked me basically why we're makin' each other miserable."

She knows.

You feel splinted from your body for a moment as the weight of the secret leaves your shoulders.

"She knows?" your whisper is more to yourself than anything else, but Joel still answers.

"Yeah. And also — that was Tess, tonight. With me at the birthday party."

He closed it at that because the rest was implied — you heard of Tess, many, many times.

When you and Joel spoke before Summer and the few times you two spent hours on the phone after long periods of silence in between, Joel told you about his friends. He told you about his work colleagues, about old college memories, about anything you asked.

He waited for you.

Patiently, as you took in the fact that your only worry didn't exist, Joel stood there a few feet across from you with his hands in his pockets, waiting.

And then, "I get if that wasn't the only reason why you said we should keep it between us. But—"

"It was." You were just... flying. Free. You breathed out, weighing a thousand pounds less. So you could have him? "Joel?"

He takes a step forward. "Yeah?"

There's little to be said when both of you move like orbits.

Your arms already know the way around his shoulders. Joel's familiar with the inches of your waist, and more than anything, you missed this, missed him.

His clever hands wrap carefully around your waist, and you abandoned every ounce of worry that this might be a dream.

"What are you smilin' at?" he asks.

Joel asks you that as he molds your bodies into one—the man is nothing but broad shoulders and back, thick arms that act like tentacles on your body that melts into his touch from the get-go.

"I had a lot of dreams like this," you confess. It feels incredible to just say what pops into your mind.

"Well, then let me remind you that real life's better," he mutters, hands already cupping your neck and cheeks.

Joel is the type fo kiss with his whole body.

You have no idea how both of you deluded yourselves into thinking any sort of deal could prevail when you two are made of this:

His hands roaming your throat, squeezing as you cling your legs around his waist and Joel takes the full weight of you on him. The back of his knees hitting the bed, his body and yours falling into a mess and tangle of limbs.

No deal was bigger than the desire you had of jumping his bones whenever he was at close proximity.

You wanted to devour him — you sucked on the fingers he offered with the same gusto your hips rolled against his lap; Joel moaned for you, and he trembled for you, and he smiled for you.

"'m gonna take my time with you — you know I like to take my time, stop grindin' that pretty pussy all up on me," he growls, and you mewl.

Joel is relentless with his touches.

Every time he took you, it felt like a possession.

Like he was carving your body out of marble to keep the curves set in stone — his palms ran through every inch of you until all your clothes were gone somewhere in the room, and he laughed at himself every time you cried out his name in a loud plea for more.

"Please — please just gimme something," you begged.

Joel smiles at you, dropping his pants to the floor. The entire lower half of his face is shining with the slick and sweat from you — keeping his head buried between your legs, your thighs stradling his shoulders and squeezing around his ears — he always started the nights like that.

"I was givin' you somethin'," he replies. Voice low and thick as honey. Just as sweet, too.

He crawls over the bed, naked, and you have to stop yourself from jumping on him until he's on his back. It'd be worse for you afterwards — you learned it the hard way. Joel would milk every orgasm out of you until you blacked out if you kept him from touching your body to his liking before you could do anything, and who were you to complain?

"Need more, Joel," you cried.

"More what?" He palms your calves, and starts smoothing his hands upwards. "Ask for it, baby."

"Whatever you want to give me, just — please."

"Ah. She learned," he chuckles, and kisses the inside of your thighs. They tremble at the feeling of his beard, and he nuzzles his face there for good measure. "I usually wanna see you ridin' my face 'till you're screaming for the heavens, but —" Joel climbs all the way up, cages your face between his forearms and lets his body lay on top of yours slowly. He doesn't give you his whole weight, but part of you wished he did. "I really just wanna be inside you right now."

"Please!"

"We'll have all night, I just—"

He stopped there, but you got where he came from.

It was different.

Knowing you would wake up and he'd still be there — it was different.

Taking him in when you knew he had more to offer and that's what he wanted to give — it made every inch Joel pushed inside feel more real.

He held both of your hands over your head, intertwining his fingers in yours. He went slow, and kept his eyes on you, and you felt less silly about the hours you cried before because you thought he wasn't yours. Because you wanted him to be.

He must sense you getting lost in the what ifs because Joel's talk changes somewhere in the middle.

His praises, always the tether grounding you to Earth while he fucks your mind straight out of it, changes in words and tone. He whispers, "I'm here, baby," in your ear, and it makes your legs hug his waist tighter. Push him inside even deeper. "Fuck — like that. Does it feel good? Is this what you wanted?"

You wanted him. "Yes — want you so bad," you wanted all of him. "All of you, Joel."

That granted you a hand of his letting go of yours only to make a fist on your hair.

It was rare for Joel to lose control, but you loved it when it happened. When he let go of everything and you could see him without anything on — no pretenses, no clothes, no reservations.

Joel started to mumble in your ear about anything, his hips losing rhythm inside of you as he made you ride out your orgasm. He talked about how good you are, how much he'd spoil you, make you his, his his —

You were. You were.

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[jinkiezzsstuff]

Hate That I Love You

adam x insecure!tsundere(ithink) GNreader

Summary: You’ve been Lutes friend for a long while, and occasionally you ran into Adam; after finding out about the extermination thanks to him, you become a three party group. Except you can’t accept liking Adam, him being obnoxious and egotistical, you pretend you hate him. That blows up in your face.

Warnings: Suggestive, swearing, angst ish, hurt/comfort i think, insecurities around strength (mental and/or physical), implied but never confirmed virgin reader, readers looks get insulted nothing intense nor specific, descriptive panic attack/fainting, reader throws an object at adam’s head, NO YN, GN, No alluding to or mention of bodytype/hairtype/skin colour. oh possibly OOC adam idk, not proofread so sorry luvs, I think that’s it if not let me know! enjoy :3

Word count: 2K

Your index finger sat atop the straw sitting in your drink, moving it around the glass as you mindlessly listened as Adam ranted to you and Lute, mostly Lute, about Charlie Morningstar. You weren’t an exorcist- no, you actually didn’t know about the exterminations at all…up until recently. Thanks to one of Adam’s childish outbursts, you had a long night with Lute explaining the whole situation to you. Now you were sworn to secrecy, and conversations of the madness that the extermination were and everything they came with, AKA Charlie.

Adam wasn’t ever your buddy, he was just someone who shamelessly attached himself to Lute's hip; but you put up with it because of your good friendship with Lute. Now, he’s somehow weaselled his way into believing you were part of this weird “team” purely based off of association.

“I mean who does this long horned, pointy teeth, pussy mucher think she is?!” Adam screamed slamming his hands against the table, you rolled your eyes at him and his stupid antics. “You’re one to talk,” You replied, his eyes snapping toward you. “You’ve got both horns and teeth. Why don’t you take that funky band mask off anyways?”

Scoffing he rolled his neck side to side. “Because this is my job, my persona, how’re people gonna recognize me without it!? Duh, dumb bitch.” Muttering the insult quickly, he leaned his cheek on his palm and went back to sucking his drink.

“With all due respect sir, this is really bad news, we can’t let Charlie persuade Sera.” Lute piped up, her mask discarded showing the genuine emotion on her face. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if he was a friend, someone she was in love with, an annoying brother-like figure, or just her lazy ass boss. Maybe all of the above.

Which is probably one of the reasons you kept your tiny little crush on Adam to yourself. He was cruel to you anyways, always comparing you to someone faster, funnier, stronger, hotter at least that’s what you told yourself. Instead you chose to be more of a bitch back, acting as disgusted and disinterested as you could, especially when Lute was around as she could sniff out a lie like some psychic canine.

“Yeah, duh Lute i fucking know that. You think I've been jerking off this whole time! No, eyes, ears focused, I haven't cum in days.” He whined, throwing his head back. Lute only scoffed glancing over at you slumped back in your seat barely sipping your drink, eyes casted downward. “You don’t have to be here for this kind of talk,” Lute started saying, her hand inching across the table to yours, but she was stopped by Adam once more leaning forward, gloved palms slapping against the table.

“The fuck are you saying Lute!? We get another fucker in this circle and you wanna cast her out. Un-fucking-believeable. It’s like you want Charlie to win.” Throwing a napkin at Adam, Lute slid her hand away from you. “They’re not even an exorcist Adam, you’re the fuck head who got them in on exterminations!”

“No i didn’t, they walked in on a private conversation.” Eyebrows knitted together you lurched forward, anger fueling you. “Oh piss off Adam, how many times are we gonna go over this stupid situation! I’m not your fucking friend, i’m not ‘in’ on it, i’m here for Lute and you won’t fucking leave!”

Adam had a bored expression on his face while you ranted, unfazed by anything you’d said. Lute however bit her lip clasping her hands together. In a fight between her boss slash friend, and her friend, she didn’t know what to do. “You always have your nose up in Lute's business, it’s so annoying. Lute’s my man, okay she works for me! Guess who comes first in this business chica? Not you.” Adam mocked sticking his tongue out at you.

Standing you picked up your cup whipping it at Adam’s head, he dodge it easily, but your emotionally fueled violence made you quickly regretful as both Adam’s and Lutes eyes looked at you questioningly. You’d never really lost your shit before, and this wasn’t the worst Adam has said, so they were a little confused at your outburst, yourself included.

“Listen, Adam, I’m-“ Before you could finish Adam keeled over, laughing maniacally as you watched. After a few short laughter filled moments, Adam straightened, elbows on the table, hands hammocking his chin as he smiled up at you.

“Got some bite in you for sure huh babe, ha! I’m not surprised, honestly when i saw you i was like ‘this bitch has a face made for hell’, you probably got up here cause you were unfuckable so, like, virgin. Oh! Oh! That makes so much fucking sense dude! Ha! Bummer, I could smell the weak loser on ya, didn’t I tell ya danger tits?” Adam questioned head turned toward Lute after his animated, and very condescending speech.

Lute only looked down, not responding. Meanwhile you were horrified, you’d always felt a little less than Lute, after all she carried out holy duties, ones that you hadn’t fully known up until recently, so hearing Adam say the same things you thought of yourself, shattered you. Your face felt hot as tears gathered on the waterline of your eyes. You didn’t belong here, you said it for the longest time everyone here was mindless optimist zombies, Lute was your only lifeline, and for a few months you suppose-Adam.

You never hated him, but it’s clear he’s only fond of Lute. You’re the intruder, you’re the odd one. Clenching your fists you didn’t even bother with a come back, you slid out from your table booking it to the door. Tears unwillingly slid down your cheeks, your chest heaving as your throat closed silencing whatever weep dared to exit your throat.

You could hear Lute calling after you but you genuinely didn’t want to be followed by her, you were embarrassed; the last thing you wanted was the strong exorcist coming to witness you crumble. Throwing the door to the building open your wings sprung out on reflex, and after a few quick steps you took off. You couldn’t quite see, or breathe for that matter. Your mind lagged behind you, replaying the moments in your head that matched up to Adam’s insults.

You blinked rapidly as you attempted to focus on the clouds beneath you and breeze around you, but you couldn’t. You choked once more, your stomach convulsing inward causing you to gasp, a sob violently escaping you as you rocketed toward whatever surface you could find. Suddenly you hit something solid, stunning your flight and causing you to spin down, plummeting. As you fell, the breeze stabbed you as you cut into it, your wings sagging and loosely flailing above you, it felt so calm and freeing you didn’t feel the will to stop.

By the grace of god, however, you were caught and roughly smacked against the chest of someone, their arms clutching you tightly. You barely heard a ‘gotcha’ before your vision tunnelled, stomach flipped and you lost consciousness.

——

Waking slowly, your eyes stung the moment they opened, nearly watering at the blinding white that invaded them. Willing yourself to rise, you lazily scanned the room you laid in. A living room, coloured with yellows, creams and whites, it was, in all honesty, way too much. A large portrait of a man with a woman, meticulously scrapped out, hung above the fireplace. You’d never seen this man ever before, and the woman was too scratched out to get any idea on who it was. Suppose these people never existed as it was a painting, but there was something about the man that captivated you so deeply.

“Look who finally rose, sleeping bitchy.” You immediately felt sick, turning your head unsurprised to see Adam standing there smugly. You frowned deeply, it felt nearly impossible to twist your mouth in such a way, but there was no hiding your distaste in seeing the angel. “Why am I here, Adam.” You say scaldingly, eyes closed attempting to shield yourself from whatever foul look took over his face. “Well after your little shit show, a little over dramatic by the way, Lute left to find you, and I went for a fly. Then suddenly minding my own business I see you tryna play asteroid! Then when I caught you, your dumbass went out.”

Sighing loudly you pulled your hand down your face. “Please, admit Lute put you up to it.” Slamming a glass of water down on the table along with a platter of fruit, including oranges, pomegranates and mangos, Adam grunted moving his hand to sit on his hips. “The fuck she did, she’s not getting the praise for this one.” You looked up at him and then down at the fruit and drink on the side table just to your right, you nodded at it. “What’s this?”

You barely whispered out. Blowing air out threw his lips effectively raspberryingring the air, he shrugged. “Stuff for you, duh, you’re like sick or something right?” You nearly smiled at that, you’d never had Adam have that reaction. Quite the array of fruit as well, carefully you picked up a few pieces of orange, as well as mango that had a toothpick sticking up from them you munched down. You hummed, watching like a hawk as Adam walked across from you and sat on the other couch.

“How long was i out?” You questioned after swallowing, gulping down some water feeling the soothing sensation on your raw throat. “Maybe thirty minutes, not long. I texted Lute, I told her you were with me, safe.” That made you pause, you gazed up at him from the bowl of pomegranates you started digging into. “What? Why didn’t she come?” Adam huffed, throwing his hands behind his head and leaned back. “Because I told her not to.” Your mouth fell open eyes wide.

“Why thee holy fuck, would you tell her not to come?” Sitting up straighter you swung your legs over the side, sitting properly instead of lounging. Adam wouldn’t meet your gaze drifting off to the left and right. “Fucking… fuck!” He exclaimed almost in what sounded like exhaustion. Watching him closely, you waited as he seemed to have an inner debate with himself. Then swiftly he gripped his face and ripped off his mask.

The face you were met with was like a punch in the gut, yeah he could be compared to men you’ve seen in your lifetime probably at a gas station or cheap bar, but it was Adam. The man you’ve been trying so hard to hate, getting into cussing battles, throwing insults at each other that rolled off the back, occasionally praising each other's insults, forcing yourself to loathe him when you both kinda knew it wasn’t and now it was real. You got to look in his gold eyes, the dark thick lashes accentuating the uniqueness of his eye colour, the chin hair that crawled just under his chin -which you never expected him to have-, his tousled brown hair, thick eyebrows one eyebrow pierced - also a shock to you-.

He looked like the asshole he was, and it made you fucking sick. Trying so hard to hate him had come to this? Him unmasking himself after saving you? Cruel, you wanted to hate him, get over him not know that all he said about him being the hottest, the dickmaster, pussypounder-whatever, was probably true, that he’s hot. You were embarrassed to feel the nasty hum of jealousy claw at you when you could see the woman in the painting in your peripheral, that was obviously him, with some woman. He was wanted, and taken before.

Flicking his tongue over his lips you caught a glimpse of a tongue piercing because of course the pretty boy would get whatever he wanted without worrying about rules. He shuffled nervously biting his lip as you eyed him shamelessly, which to him was judgemental, his nerves suddenly making him feel sweaty. “Why?” You ask breathily, you were too enchanted to care how he perceived that however. His eyes properly met yours, your legs crossed subconsciously at the zap you felt just by a look.

“Youre fucking dumb you know that? You think I hang with Lute when you’re around because Lute’s there?!” Adam stood after the exclamation, his eyes shooting around the room, hands flying to his hair. “I can’t fucking do this a third time! Fuck!” Tossing a vase across the room you watched unfazed by the sudden explosion, after all this was your thing too.

“I only go round Lute like that because you’re there dumbass, i tried easing up on you; just like Lute said! But you, oh noooo little bitch, just had to be so fucking bratty.” Standing over you sneering, you made no attempts to move, not genuinely scared of his anger but instead, perhaps, a little aroused. You in a way understood where his frustrations came from anyway, you in a sense felt the same way. Might be why you lost it earlier, the yearning had gotten too real, and he seemed so focused on Charlie.

“I am so disgustingly attracted to you, not even in a sex way! And I know how to deal with that a lot better.” Swinging his hand out sassily, he smirked to himself. Plopping next to you he rested his cheek on his hand, elbows rested on his legs. Plucking an orange from the table you watched him eat it, juice moistening his lips. “You think i’d peel fruit, save, house and give water to some broad I genuinely hated? No, stupid.”

Laughing dryly, you looked up away from Adam’s intense gaze. You smiled, eyes falling from the ceiling to your lap. “God i fucking hate you,” Adam’s face looked horrified, opening his mouth to speak, you stopped him grabbing his cheeks and pulling into a searing hot kiss. Your lips crashed against each others’ lazily but passionately, opened mouthed and slightly sloppy. It was slow however, a kiss that wasn’t just a kiss, neither of you wanted to haste past such a moment, such emotion. Adam’s arms wrapped around your hips nudging you forward, understanding the message you moved in closer, your body’s pressing against each other as much as you could from the seated position on the couch.

You dug your fingers into his hair, brainlessly playing with different strands as your tongues slid along one another’s without care, tasting the orange he just ate presently on his lips and to tongue. It felt heavenly being up against him, Adam smelt so good, he was so warm and you could feel how badly he wanted this. His body jittered, his hands gripping you like you’d disappear if he loosened. Pulling away and looking at Adam, he made no effort to move eyes still closed like trying to etched this memory in his mind. You hummed lovingly, brushing hair away from his forehead. “You’re a dumb bitch.” He whispered raspily, opening his eyes, although not by much as they lidded with lust.

You smirked at him brushing your thumb against his bottom lip. “I know. You too.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel fluff

[sohnric]

distraction, a fatal attraction – l. chan

pairing: lee chan x fem! reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, college au, fluff. a weird kind of situationship between yn and dino, drunk dino because svt can't stop mentioning his excessive drinking which is so university student of him and i headcanon him as my drinking buddy.

warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of throwing up, smoking

word count: 7k

a/n: started writing this literally last may. it's now february and i finally finished it after rewriting it like three times... anyways idk how many more svt fics i'll post in the future but i had to get this out in the open lmaoo. as always thank u beloved @csenke for beta reading despite not even being a svt stan <3

You and Lee Chan seem to have the same clubbing tendencies. That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so. (Or - you and Lee Chan have kissed a concerning amout of times before he finally asks for permisson.)

“Can I kiss you?” Chan asks you one March evening and you don’t know why exactly you find yourself so surprised. 

By default, it’s only natural for the boy to ask– the two of you aren’t dating, not even close to that, you’d say– and while you wouldn’t really mind if he kissed you without giving you a warning and swooped you off your feet on the stairs leading up to your dormitory building (for you found yourself a little too lightheaded and on the edge of your seat whenever he’s around lately, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach only further proving your assumptions– you have a silly, little crush on the male), you must admit that him asking for permission is quite nice. Surprising, but nice. 

One might think you’re surprised because there was nothing that could lead you to this scenario– one might think you and Lee Chan were nothing but friends, not even close ones, per se (you just have a group of mutual friends that somehow always brought you two together when either one of you got excluded out of their conversations, ending up as each other’s, although pleasant, last resort). One might even think the two of you are hanging out alone for the first time together, which isn’t that far away from the truth in the first place, but still, is a blatant lie. What’s so surprising about the question to you, then?

The fact that this isn’t the first time you and Lee Chan would be kissing, and the sheer fact leaves you wondering if he’s forgotten, or if he never really remembered in the first place.

You and Chan have kissed…. an embarrassing amount of times for people that aren’t dating, or anywhere close to the said establishment. The circumstances of said kisses differ from time to time, and while you thought that they were meaningless at first, you must admit that as time went by, you selfishly and almost a little pathetically looked forward to each and every time where a similar situation might occur and his lips would end up on yours again.

The first time you and Chan kissed was also the first time you two met. It’s a strange sentence to use when describing a story about your first kiss with someone that you’re currently (hopefully) on a date with, but it’s the one you have to use, because it’s true.

The group you walked into the club with on the first day of orientation during your freshman year of college consisted of all your upperclassmen friends– the girls you had met in high school and didn’t fail to keep in contact with: Lee Chaeryeong, Kim Minjeong and Huh Yunjin. You would trust these three girls with your whole entire life, and so when they had told you that they could show you around the campus and let you in on all the secrets you only learn with months of attending college, you felt like you just won the lottery. 

After the cheerful senior Choi Soobin walked your humongous group through the campus and showed all of your classmates the fundamental parts of the college building (the gym, the labs and most importantly, the cafeteria), he invited you all to the open semester party in the club just a few minutes away from the campus. And yes, the party was originally supposed to be mainly for the freshmen, but as soon as you texted your friends to let them know about your whereabouts, they announced to you that there is no way you were going back to your dorm room so quickly– the whole campus was supposed to be on that party, and that’s exactly why you were forced to stay.

“So, how do you like it here so far?” Chaeryeong asks you as you start swinging your hips to the rhythm of the music, the DJ surprisingly not as bad as you expected him to be from the reviews you heard from the girls when standing in the queue leading towards the club.

“The music isn’t as bad as you said it will be,” you yell over the music into your friend’s ear, having her roll her eyes and shake her head at you in disbelief.

“I meant the campus, not the club, you silly goose,” she clarifies, making you gasp at the sentence.

“Oh!” you laugh. “Well, I’m less frightened, that’s for sure.”

“That’s gonna come back to you once the exam season starts,” Chaeryeong notes, snickering. The comment is slightly terrifying– therefore you choose to ignore it and stick it somewhere to the back of your brain to come back to when the time is right and your anxiety is no longer a far-away thing, but a very present and real issue.

“Ah! I see Mingyu there!” she suddenly screams, pointing somewhere behind you. “I’m gonna go talk to him, can you try finding our table and going back to Minjeong and Yunjin?”

“I’ll be fine,” you nodded, trying to believe the sentence just as much as you were trying to convince your friend of it. The place was filled with people, and although you didn’t feel particularly in danger, you were getting a little scared of getting walked over to death in the wave of the drunk upperclassmen enjoying themselves in the club.

Feet dragging you through the crowd painfully slowly, you try hard to find your table on the sides of the club. Your eyes never really had a 20/20 vision, but the neon lighting of the club and the glass of Martini you’d had before stepping to the dance floor with Chaeryeong really didn’t help you in seeing things clearly. No matter how hard you try, you can’t find your two other friends anywhere, and if you are being completely honest, you’re almost certain the table you previously sat at with your group was now occupied with someone completely else– meaning that your dear friends either left to the dancefloor, or left the club completely (which you doubted, but the possibilities were never really 0).

And so with that, you drag yourself towards the bar. You think that was a better option to choose in this situation– since you thought that going out for some fresh air is just going to get you kidnapped if you went there alone– and you also figured that you’d be easier to find by your lost friends if you were somewhere out in the open instead of in the corners of the humid room. Ordering yourself another Martini to pass the time, you drink the beverage in slow sips before you feel the presence of someone on the bar stool next to you.

You look up at the stranger beside you, noticing a boy around your age sending you a shy, yet charming look. “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asks.

“Not really,” you answer, watching as the boy nods, his shoulders relaxing as he orders himself a drink. 

“Are you here alone?” he asks as he looks back at you again, face tugging into a panicked expression when he realizes the implication his words may hold. “I’m not asking in a creepy way, or anything, it’s just- I’m a freshman and I lost the people I came here with, so I’m kind of alone here as well…” he quickly explains, eyes big and honest, “you just looked like you could use some company,” he explains, making an endeared smile flash over your features.

Shaking your head at his tangent, you wave him off with your hand. “Don’t worry, I got it,” you laugh, “and the same as you, actually. I came here with my friends, but they disappeared somewhere, so I just sat here and figured they’ll find me eventually.”

“Great minds think alike,” the boy laughs, holding up his glass before taking another sip, “well, until that happens, I guess we can hang out, can’t we? My name’s Chan.”

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself, “it’s nice meeting you, Chan.”

The two of you talk about everything and anything: where he comes from, where you come from, which dorm building you’re staying at, which dorm building he’s staying at, your major  (literature) and his major (dance), your friends and his friends– and with the increasing amount of information you get out of him, the pull of gravity sends you more and more towards the boy. Chan is charming, talkative and fun. You find yourself attracted to him each time he cracks a joke or teases you about your choice of your favorite movie (‘This is the first time I’ve heard anyone say The gods must be crazy is their favorite movie!’), and that’s exactly why you don’t find it in you to say no when he asks if he could buy you a drink.

One drink turns into two– three, four, eventually even five– and you progressively start to forget all about your lost friends as you ask Chan to show you what being a dance major is all about and invite him to the dancefloor, swinging your hips back and forth to the rhythm.

You don’t know if they teach this type of choreography in dance school, but as the songs change from more upbeat to less energetic and more sensual, you find yourself a little too enchanted with the way Chan’s features soften under the neon pinks and purples, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and stepping closer to him. His arm ends up on your lower back– dangerously close to your bottom, which you aren’t that opposed to anyway– and when his nose brushes against the shell of your ear in the middle of one of the songs to talk to you, you can’t help but press yourself against him closer. 

“You’re kind of good at this, for a literature major,” he hums, his voice making shivers run down your spine.

And sure, it could’ve been just the alcohol levels in your blood that made you so dangerously close to him, but as you study his features– although a little hazily, but still fully taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the sparkles in his eyes– you don’t have it in you to pull away when the boy leans in and kisses you, lips enchanting you the same way his moves have.

His kiss is heated and sensual, the one that makes your knees buckle and your mind go on overdrive, creating all sorts of fantasies in your delirious brain, and you must admit you don’t mind it when his hands slip further down to grope your butt, the two of you still lazily moving to the rhythm of the song in the background. The sound is coming in a little muffled to your ears as you let yourself fully indulge in the moment– it’s not every day you make out with an extremely attractive guy in the club– before your oxygen runs out and you have to pull away from him, instead studying Chan’s swollen lips from up close. They are inviting you for more, especially as his eyes open and look at you all blown-out and hazy, but you figure that he can wait. You have to catch your breath first and get yourself together– if you don't want to come completely undone in the middle of the crowded dance floor, that is.

You could honestly stare into his face forever, if you wanted to– except, you don’t have the chance as a loud voice from behind you calls: “Y/N! There you are!”

Annoyed thoughts fill your brain the very second you hear Minjeong from behind your back– where were they for the last hour? Of course they had to find you when the night was finally getting good– but you turn towards her nonetheless, showing her an innocent smile. You notice the girl is accompanied by the rest of your girl clover, alongside a tall guy that shows your companion a mischievous grin. “So I see you and Chan have already met and we don’t have to introduce you to each other anymore,” he says.

The sentence has you nervously clear your throat and take a step away from Chan. The boy ironically heaves out a: “Mingyu! How nice to see you again, after an hour.”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t having fun.”

Feeling the atmosphere grow awkward, you quickly look at your friends, smiling tightly to try and save the situation (while also acting as if you didn’t just finish making out with their friend’s friend). “Where did you all go anyway?”

“Oh, we met Seungkwan and Vernon, so we decided to sit together, and then Chae came with Mingyu after some time, and that’s when we realized we were each missing a person… so here we are,” Minjeong clarifies, having you nod.

In conclusion, this is the story of how you met Lee Chan. What was supposed to be a one-night thing at a club for you, never really expecting to see the boy ever again (except from accidental meetings on the campus that could very well be played off as neither of you remembering), turned into a whole another situation as the two of you now shared a surprisingly tightly-knit friend group.

You never spoke about the kiss again. Or much at all, really.

Kind of disappointed with the fact, but still kind of okay with the situation, you found yourself falling into rhythm with the newly found world at university. You’d gotten used to the all-nighters, the weird partying in the middle of the week on a school night, to the hookup culture you’ve never really found yourself fitting in with, and with the life that comes to you when living in a dormitory. All of these somehow had the presence of Lee Chan included, though, as you learned on another Wednesday night (those are the designated bar runs when you’re friends with Chwe Vernon and Boo Seungkwan– since their Thursdays are free and they can get as drunk as they want without fearing being hungover in class), much to your surprise, you and the charismatic boy have the same clubbing tendencies.

That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so.

It doesn’t help that the both of you were light-weights– or at least that’s what you’ve been told. 

You two don’t talk to each other much before getting a few drinks in, since you’re a little shy when it comes to the charming, but endearing boy. What his reasoning for the seeming lack of interest in you when sober is, you’re not really sure– but as the night usually goes, you bet with Vernon on who can drink more tequila shots before their gag reflex hits, and sooner or later, you find yourself drunk at the bar. 

Once your otherwise stoic friend feels that it’s too much for him to handle and trails to the toilets (accompanied by a sulking Sungkwan complaining that ‘He always does this, ruining the night for everyone!’), you allow yourself to get back to the dance floor. Sounds like a good idea in theory, but is a bad idea in practice– somewhere along the way, you start to feel too dizzy in the heat of the crowd, the lightheadedness making you feel sick. Your figure is quickly dragged outside by a person you didn’t notice has been keeping their eyes on you, and only when you finally slip to the floor and sit on the pavement in front of the crowded bar, you recognise the guardian angel staring down at you with hazy eyes

“You looked like you were going to faint over there,” Chan hums, a perky expression playing with his face. There’s a boyish grin spread over his lips as he stares at your disheveled composure, the two of you coming into a weird sense of déja vu you’re convinced only a few shots of tequila can bring you into on a Wednesday night.

“Oh, I was going to,” you nod, watching as the boy settles next to you on the ground. The place around you is buzzing in true college fashion– people smoking, drinking off-the-counter alcohol straight from the bottle they got at the corner shop down the street because it’s cheaper than the shots in the club, people meeting and talking about their majors and where they’re from, making new connections.

“Thank god I was there to rescue you, then,” Chan chuckles, shoving you with his elbow.

“Yeah, my guardian angel,” you hum dreamily, giggling at the ridiculousness of your comment. 

“Saw Vernon running off with Seungkwan tailing him,” he nods, “now that’s not a guardian angel.”

“That’s a guardian devil for sure,” you hum, pursing your lips. “Wouldn’t want to have Seungkwan as my caretaker. He complains too much.”

“They argue like a married couple,” Chan snickers. 

“It’s the curse of being roommates. After a certain amount of time, you start to view each other like you’re married,” you hum, nodding to yourself.

“Do you consider Minjeong to be your wife?”

“No,” you sigh, shrugging, “she’s too immature to be my wife. I think of her more like my child, actually.”

“Well, looking at you right now, you don’t seem to be the more mature one out of the duo,” he pokes a finger to your side, making you jolt away at the contact. Furrowing your brows at him, clearly a little offended, you huff at him.

“The roles change when I drink. That’s how marriage works,” you say, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together, nodding, fully pleased with yourself.

Chan laughs at you. “I thought you said she was more like your child?”

“Then stop thinking, Chan.”

“You were the one who said it!” he points out, shaking his head in disbelief. You’re not sure to what extent you can blame this on the effect of alcohol– what can you say. Sometimes you get too tied up in your own lies.

“Oh,” you snicker, “right.”

“Dummy,” he teases, flicking the side of your thigh, making your blood boil with frustration.

“Who are you calling dummy?” you argue, having a perfect comeback to snap back at the boy. “Weren’t you the one coming to the wrong class for 2 weeks?”

Chan’s whole composure crumbles, a serious look tinted with hints of shame overtaking his previously grinning face. “Who told you that?”

“Not relevant,” you shrug. You find that it’s the best to keep the identity of the mole confidential. (It was Mingyu.)

“Was it Seungkwan?”

“No.”

“So it was.”

Sometimes you wonder just how clueless Lee Chan really is. Although you don’t think he’s slow, you must admit that he does have his moments that keep you wondering just how he can operate in the world without being used or manipulated on a daily basis. Is anyone keeping an eye on him? What if he accidentally joins a cult one day?

“Well, whoever told me wasn’t the one going to a completely different class for 2 weeks straight, so–”

“Look, it’s not my fault they make the schedule so difficult to read! The classes were overlapping on the thing, and I didn’t know which one applied to me, so I just assumed I could choose,” this has you laughing out loud at the boy, “and so I just chose one. I didn’t know those were electives. I didn’t even sign up for any electives! Can you believe that? We are supposed to have electives?” 

He looks so endearing as he speaks, laughing to himself and gesturing with his arms. There’s a sense of fondness pooling in your stomach as you reach over and plant a soft, quick peck to his lips. The male seems to be caught off-guard as he stops in his tracks, not a single word coming out of his lips after your action– and truth be told, although you’re kind of glad for the silence, the thought of scaring him away makes you a little anxious. When you look at him from the side, though, the boy is grinning.

Scattering to your feet, you wobbly waddle back into the humid building. You don’t think either of you could continue on with the conversation after your actions, and so you figure the best way to go around this is to leave. “Well, I’ll see you on the dance floor, Channie.”

The third time you manage to lock your lips with his is no different. It’s January now, though, and Seungkwan decided to host his birthday in one of the houses you can rent on the beach. It isn't as fun as it would've been in summer and you could go for a swim, but let’s be realistic– you'd never say no to a good birthday celebration. 

There’s havoc erupting all around you as your friend group sings the birthday song to Seungkwan. You all had something to drink prior to the cake ceremony, since some of you came sooner than the others and you figured that you have to wait for everyone with the cake, and so the singing now resembles a mating call of five dolphins more than the casual, harmonic birthday song. 

Seungkwan is sitting at the table, the rest of you gathered around him– some with glasses in their hands, some recording the commotion with their phones– and when the song is over and the birthday boy made his wish, he blows out the candles on the cake. Clapping resonates through the little kitchen, everyone ready for the cake, when Chan pushes the older one’s face straight into the icing.

It only takes Seungkwan half a second before he starts chasing the little devil around the beach house. The younger one is laughing at his own antics– which you must admit, although a little childish, you find to be quite endearing– and the older one curses at him with the most colorful vocabulary you’ve ever heard him say out loud. Not even Lee Chan’s own mother has ever scolded him in a way Boo Seungkwan is able to.

“Do you think Seungkwan would mind if I start cutting the cake without him?” Minjeong asks as she gets out a large knife– she looks a little threatening, you must say– which has you shrugging.

“I think he’s preoccupied right now,” you say.

“Yeah, but I’ve waited for this cake for over two hours,” she grunts, “so if he doesn’t want to cut it, I’ll do it for him,” she shrugs to herself and proceeds with her intentions.

Minjeong cuts straight through the face imprint of Boo Seungkwan in his own cake, slicing the red velvet into equal parts to put on the paper plates Vernon found somewhere in the back cupboards of the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“In a minute,” you laugh, shaking your head at your roommate, “I’ll go get them before they kill each other. I think the cake is enough to make truce fall over this war.”

“Stay safe out there,” Chaeryeong hums, nodding as she takes a paper plate and puts a chunky slice of the cake on, taking a fork into her hand and tasting the icing. “It’s surprisingly good even with Seungkwan’s skin cells in it.”

Minjeong slaps the other girl’s back, gritting her teeth. “Of course it’s good! I baked that shit for 2 hours and Y/N wouldn’t help, because she didn’t want to ruin it–”

(You just didn’t feel like baking. You don’t want to have another fight with your roommate about it, though, and that’s another excuse to leave the kitchen and go find Chan with his murderer.) 

Peering your eyes around the whole beach house, you fail to find Seungkwan anywhere. Assuming you two accidentally missed each other and he’s back reunited with his cake, your legs automatically lead you on the patio, where you find Chan resting against the railway. He is wearing a leather jacket, his hair now a little longer than when you first met him in September, and when the noise of the back door opening lands into his ears, he makes a turn and watches you cross the space between you, all while eyeing your naked legs. 

You contemplated if wearing a mini skirt in the middle of January was a good idea, but the satisfaction running through your veins at his hungry, yet collected eyes make it all worth it.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks. You shake your head in answer, but he pays it no attention as he takes off his jacket and puts it around your shoulders, the smell of his cologne filling your nose like a blissful drug. You’ve always liked attention, but when it comes to Lee Chan, you are twice as satisfied when he pays you just a mere glance.

“Not anymore,” you hum, smiling to yourself. “Seungkwan gave up on murdering you?”

“I think it was more of a health concern for him. He was breathing so heavily after a few minutes of running that I thought he was going to suffocate,” Chan snickers, making you laugh.

“I’d sleep with one eye open tonight anyway,” you peep, “just in case.”

“Oh, definitely,” he nods, grinning. “I won’t even take any drinks from him in case he poisons them. Better be safe than sorry.”

He takes out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, lights up one for himself and offers you one as well. Even though you always promise yourself you’re quitting and that smoking is a bad habit you should overcome, you eagerly nod and watch him with half-lidded eyes as he lights it for you, one hand close to your face shielding the lighter from the chilly breeze, just like every time. You haven't had that much to drink yet, but the effect of nicotine always makes your head spin when the smoke fills your lungs. Truth be said, though, you are afraid that the proximity of your friend doesn’t help much with the weakness of your knees either.

“Come inside, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he mumbles when the both of you are done smoking, hands gripping the sides of his open jacket on your body, tugging you towards him just the slightest amount. 

Like another bad habit the both of you have to break, he seems to pause for a second, as if questioning himself one more time before he goes for it and places a short peck to your lips, leading you to the beach house again, now flushed and internally squealing.

The fourth time, it happens on his own birthday party. 

It’s too late in the semester for any of you to experience a big party, the exam season being just around the corner. You still managed to gather and celebrate nonetheless– the boys letting you into their dorm building, your little friend group fitting inside of the communal kitchen on the end of the hall. People passing by look at you with half concerned, half annoyed faces at the commotion– which is understandable, nobody wants ruckus just down the hall when they’re supposed to be working on the last-minute assignments– but you don’t mind it much, telling yourself it’s not your problem in the first place and you’re allowed to have a bit of fun once in a while, as long as you’re not the one being wronged in the moment. 

A bottle of champagne is taken out of the fridge by the hands of the birthday boy, the commotion around you happily cheering and clapping (only Chaeryeong hides away from the pointed tip of the bottle, knowing all too well that Chan is not to be trusted with things that can explode), and while Mingyu encourages the boy to pop the champagne open out of the window, you all realize that the action is indeed, not possible.

“Don’t tell me you got the one with the lid that screws on!” Seungkwan turns around to scream into Vernon’s face, having the poor man shrug to himself.

“You can’t really tell in the store when the seal is on–”

“Then you should’ve double checked–” the nagging would go on further if it wasn’t for the last bits of common sense from the birthday boy himself (that Seungkwan would protect with everything in him, making sure their youngest has the best birthday ever, but would never admit to it outloud), as he just unscrews the lid and flicks it out of the opened window instead, earning himself a couple of cheers and claps from the rest of the group. 

The bottle gets passed around the circle, each of you chugging the sparkly alcohol straight from it– because pouring the drinks would take too much effort, and also, there weren't even enough glasses for everyone to pour the beverage into anyway.

The tallest one out of the gathering takes a cake out of the overstuffed fridge, lighting a singular candle in the middle and holding it up in front of the birthday boy’s face. There are sparkles in Chan’s eyes despite the poor condition of the cake– it’s one of those you get discounted in the dollar store, one of those that don’t even have candles on them and you have to get them yourself (which is exactly why Chan’s cake only has a singular, yellow candle in the middle)– and you find yourself admiring the sheer joy and appreciation in his orbs with fondness in your heart. 

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you–”

“Happy birthday, dear Channie!” Seungkwan’s vocal abilities shine through in the heartfelt song, the dramaticness of your whole group never denying itself as all of them make sure to sing to Chan with as much theatrical over-exaggeration as they can. Chan watches the flame with an inkling in his eye you can’t quite place. He looks adorable, you think.

You watch from behind as he blows out the candle. Something inside of you beams at the sight of your friend growing older– the fact that you’re here, celebrating with him moving something in you. You don’t often like it when people get older, but you think birthday celebrations make the sentiment worth it. In a moment of particular fondness, you hug the boy from the back– where you’ve been standing, considering the crammed nature of the kitchen– and whisper a giddy ‘Happy birthday!’ into his ear. 

The male turns his head to you, a grin settling on his lips as he scans your face from up close. He looks at you with a look that you can’t really read, but makes you all warm from the inside. It’s different to the way he usually looks at you, and you only decipher it when he quickly leans towards your face and presses a peck to your lips. Only then it starts to all make sense.

He does it in front of everybody, the rest of your friends whistling at the action. Your heart leaps a little as you wrestle Chan off with a laugh, trying hard to keep the unseriousness of it all. If you can keep lying to your friends about the way you feel towards the male, maybe you’ll even manage to convince yourself. 

The cake is taken away from his grasp and placed onto the table, ready to be served. You keep a calculated distance away from him, but that still doesn’t keep you from watching the boy from afar. There’s a certain haziness in his eyes when you stare at him from across the room and an aftertaste of vodka on your tongue when you lick it off your lips.

The fifth time, it happens when you gather to celebrate passing your exams. 

College kids have only one way of celebrating the joys of life (as well as only one way of dealing with sorrows), and that is– you guessed it– alcohol. The whole friend group gathered in the common kitchen of the boy’s dormitories again, soju bottles ringing against each other as you cheered and drowned in the taste of the liquor. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t watching Chan the whole time, the endearing twinkles in his eyes making you foolishly drink more and more, a weird desire in you just begging to be drowned out, since you couldn’t do anything about it.

Once the night was over and the bottles were all emptied, the boys decided to walk you back to your dorm building.

“Gyu, it’s literally a 10 minute walk across the campus. What could possibly happen on the way there?” Minjeong laughed, but the commotion followed you outside nonetheless.

“It’s dark outside!” Mingyu insisted. “You never know what could happen. I don’t want the responsibility of your dead bodies on my hands.”

“Chaeryeong is feral enough to fight off any creeps alone, you don’t have to worry about us,” Minjeong joked, but the boys followed you outside nonetheless, grabbing their coats and escaping the warmth of their dorms.

You find yourself trailing behind the group, the essence of soju lulling you to a peaceful slumber that you perform despite still being on the go, your brain coated with the incoherent buzz. Lee Chan finds his stance next to you, cautiously watching over your step as you shuffle across the sidewalk, a gentle voice coaxing you awake.

“Got any plans for the winter break?” he asks.

“Probably just going to stay home with my parents for a bit,” you muse, shrugging. “Have lots of naps… I need to recharge. This semester was too hectic.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that,” Chan admits, chuckling at your shared despair. 

Kicking the pebbles under your feet, you watch as the male indulges in a little game of football with you, passing the chosen rock back to you each time you kick it too far. The air is crisp and you sniffle a little from the cold every once in a while, but every time you catch the playful twinkle in Chan’s eyes when the pebble hits the side of your shoe again, you feel a bit of warmth engulfing you from the inside.

“I think this whole thing would be far less enjoyable if it wasn’t for you guys,” Chan admits, licking his lips. He’s right– it’s always better to have someone to rely on in university. You can’t imagine going to school and not having a familiar face to fall back to any time you feel lonely. It’s easier when you know all the insider tips from your older upperclassmen friends– when you have a default friend group you fit into without actually attempting to make any new friends yourself. Suddenly, you’re awfully thankful for everyone.

“Yeah. Although they did turn me into an alcoholic, it seems,” you chuckle, earning yourself an amused giggle coming from Chan.

“Oh, for sure,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck. “We have to tune it down next semester. Wouldn’t wanna end up in AA instead of graduating.”

“Now, that’s a long way from here,” you say, shaking your head in amusement.

“You never know before it’s too late, to be fair.”

You don’t realize it back then, but Chan is always somehow there when you take it too far, taking note of your drunken needs and providing you safety from creeps in the club. Lee Chan holds your hair back when you throw up, your stomach too weak on certain nights. He is there when you want to dance and also when you want to cool down. He’s your drinking buddy, sure, but the reality is greater than that– he always wants you to have fun and be as comfortable as you can be. If he can do anything to ensure that, he’s going to do it.

That applies to your sober adventures as well, although he’s more reserved when he has nothing to blame for his obviously smitten actions. Cranking his neck to look at you better, Chan decides to get rid of anything to blame next time. 

Maybe he has to try harder.

Just tonight, for the last time, Chan kisses you with an excuse of alcohol to fall back on in front of your dorm building when nobody is watching, paying his goodbyes to you. He kisses you almost tenderly, making your knees buckle and the lightness in your stomach cry out with full measures.

“I’ll miss you, Y/L/N.”

You don't see Chan for a while after. You spend the rest of the winter break you have after completing your exams at home, relaxing with your parents. They are right when they say that the holidays should be spent with your family– no matter how much you love the friends you made in university.

Coming back to school after the few weeks of break brought a sudden change to your and Chan’s dynamic, though. While you must admit that you’ve grown strangely closer over the months, talking more even sober and naturally gravitating towards each other when sitting in booths at McDonald’s or falling into casual conversation at the back of the group when walking to places with everyone, you find that Chan puts more effort into being friends with you now.

He texts you randomly through-out the day, asking you how you are and what you’re up to. He sends you pictures of Seungkwan when he’s sleeping in the lectures, and you even find yourself laughing at the Instagram reels he randomly shoots your way in the middle of the night sometimes. He doesn’t drink much even when all of you end up going to the nearby bar again on a Tuesday evening, and you find yourself following his pattern, knowing that even if you gave in to the alcohol, the tipsy state wouldn’t be as fun if you didn’t have anyone to share the same energy with. 

Because while you do enjoy drinking, the truth is, it’s not as fun without your drinking buddy. Half the fun of drinking is having fun with the people you share the moment with, and, well, it wouldn’t feel right to drink with the others being sober. You owe your friends that much.

Lee Chan puts effort into being friends with you more, and you don’t know if you like it. 

Because even though before, you weren’t as close as you might be now, the adrenaline of what could be and what even is between the two of you any time you’re under the influence was exciting you, keeping you on your toes, making you feel desired and liked. Now, he’s relaxed– no more than an arm around your shoulder when his hand gets tired in the booth of the bar. The casualty of it all gets you worried.

So when the time comes and the two of you finally hang out one on one today, getting boba and then finding comfort in the April sunlight provided by the park across from your dorms, you find yourself questioning the nature of this hangout. And you think you’re not wrong for that, of course– everyone with working two eyes must admit that Lee Chan has been sending you mixed signals so far.

Hearing the question “Can I kiss you?” from his mouth, his cheeks dusted pink and eyes big in anticipation, was even more surprising to your ears, and you might understand it better now– the history you have with the boy suggests that there’s no need in asking, but also, the intentions are more than unclear at the moment. He’s not drunk– not even tipsy– why is this happening, then?

“I mean, we don’t have to, of course, I– I just–” he stutters, eyes aimlessly breaking eye contact with yours to stare anywhere but at your lips right now, nerves clearly written all over his face and in the stance he’s taking, a few steps below you on the stairway to the dormitory. Snickering at his hesitance, you sigh to yourself.

“This is the first time you asked,” you mumble a little jokingly, and when the boy’s eyes finally meet yours again, he seems a little embarrassed from the way his ears are burning red and he chews on the inside of his cheek. 

The tone of his voice is kind of defeated, a little shy, even, when he speaks up again. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs, “so I finally wanted to do it right. And sober, no matter how fucking wrong and weird that sounds.”

Breaking into a soft laughter at his comment– because truthfully, to a stranger’s ear, that might sound a little alarming– you roll your eyes at the boy and lean down to be at his level, palms of your hands meeting with his cheeks as he watches you with curious eyes, the sparkle in them filling you to the brim with endearance. Your lips meet with his in a gentle, soft, yet yearning-filled kiss, having your eyes fluttering close and the pads of your thumbs softly stroking over the skin of his cheekbones. 

The kiss is no different to the ones you’ve shared before– well, except there’s no loud music in the background, no smell of trash cans behind the bar or the smoke of an earlier-smoked cigarette in the air, and most importantly, no taste of alcohol on either of your lips– but still, it feels a little different. Sure, it has your knees week and your stomach feeling fuzzy, it does make you feel like you’re drunker than you were, which now, sober, you realize it just the effect Lee Chan has on you alone, but there’s a little more care, thought and intention to the kiss now, and it hits you with full force when you pull away from him and feel his hands glazing the skin of your waist in a hesitant hug.

“So that means this was a date then, right?” you ask.

“Well, you didn’t really seem to care about that all the times we've kissed before–” he jokes, earning himself a swat to his shoulder.

Now he’s bold.

“Okay, sure, if it helps you sleep at night. I’ll even take you out on another one, if you want.”

Turns out that alcohol was the variable in your relationship that only brought you two courage– the desire to kiss his lips off has always been there, you just never acted on it sober. And while you’re not so sure you’re gonna tell the story of how you two met in detail to your kids one day, you’re glad for the kick the rum and coke gave you on the day of your orientation, because who knows. Maybe you wouldn’t be here without the weird coincidence.

#seventeen #dino #lee chan #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #dino fic #dino fluff #dino x reader #lee chan fic #lee chan fluff #lee chan x reader #seventeen reactions #svt fluff #svt x reader #dino scenario #dino drabble #lee chan scenario #lee chan drabble

[rakurairagnarok]

I dedicate this story to my good friend and writing buddy @idesofrevolution. Merry Christmas buddy and please PLEASE Enjoy. Happy holidays to everyone and Happy TF's.

A Green Christmas

`What!!`

Ryan screamed at the news.

You sighed.

´I have no choice, my family has to move, and I have to go as well, I don´t have any accommodation here.´

Ryan grumbled. `Bro... you can´t leave me man... you´re my best bud.´

You grimaced. Your friend had been acting weird lately. You used to be super close, and you honestly still are, but your interests had began to shift. You used to play games, watch cartoons and study together, but lately Ryan had become absent from you life. He had been ´busy´ with other things but his grades had been plummeting and he had picked up smoking. Ryan had no idea you knew this, but you had seen the pictures from your classmates. His wardrobe had changed too. Before he would wear shirts and khakis, now its oversized shirts and hoodies. He started wearing contacts as well, which, to be honest, was a great look for him, he looked very handsome without glasses. His lingo had switched as well. No more academic jargon. Just simple sentences, which almost always had at least one bro in them.

`Look Ryan, I really am sorry, but I just can´t make this work´

Your family was moving, and while you were a college student, who by all accounts should have received some form of scholarship due to your amazing grades, you never did. The truth however, was that you wanted to move. The alienating feeling you got from your former best friend broke something in you, and you had to put some distance between eachother. You could easily apply for the on-campus dormitories but you just couldn`t bear staying near the now almost stranger.

`Look you´d better go, I want to be home before Christmas and I still have a lot of packing to do.'

Ryan sighed and left. After closing the door behind him, You let out a grunt.

"Why does it have to be this way! What happend to him?"

Reluctantly you began packing. Your father would come and get you and your things on Christmas eve, so you had your work cut out for you. You were currently staying Ryan, but this had always been a temporary solution. Ryan's landlord didn't want two friends staying together only couples or families. Ryan had become quite open to you about his sexuality. He had told you he was bisexual and that he could always tell the landlord the two of you were dating, but you had declined. You had a hard enough time not getting picked on. If word would get out that you two were dating, you would not be able to survive. What Ryan didn't know is that you were in fact also bisexual. You really liked girls but men really were where you got your satisfaction. From porn that is, because you were still a virgin. You grew up in a strict Christian household, with a Father from the south. Your parents would never approve and they were the reason you didn't have to work, so coming out was never an option.

A loud knock shook you from your deep train of thought. You opened the door and Ryan was standing right there, smiling.

"Steven, can we talk bro?"

"Ryan, I told you. I need to pack for..."

"Please, just for a little while."

"...Fine..."

Ryan walked in and sat down on your bed.

"Look man... I've been thinking... I need to be honest with you about something."

You looked at your former best friend with confusion. He had been so dominant and confident these last few weeks, and all of a sudden he looked shy and insecure.

"I... I picked up smoking... and... not just cigarettes. Weed too"

You sighed.

"I know Ryan, I have seen you. Don't worry, it's whatever... Your body, your choice."

Ryan smiled.

"Yeah for reallll broo but, I wanted to ask you a favor."

"What is it?" You asked, slightly impatient.

"Come sit down first" Ryan had this shit eating grin on his face, his perfect white teeth on display. Wait that doesn't sound right. he had braces right?

Because you took so long, Ryan grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the bed, right next to him.

"What the hell man!" You exclaimed.

He quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders, his musky scent drilling into your nose, and holds something up to your face.

"I really, really want to smoke this with you man. Like dying wish and shit."

You look down and see a blunt in between his fingers.

"I don't smoke Ryan, you know this" You point out.

" Just one hit bro, that's all, I won't tell anyone, you don't have to smoke any more, just humor me with this man."

You took a deep breath and wanted to decline, but then something clicked.

"You know what. Sure."

Ryan's grin widened. 'Let's fucking go bro!!!" He quickly grabbed a lighter, and lit the blunt.

He took the first hit, blowing the smoke right into your face, the fumes invading your nose and throat, leaving you gasping for air.

"Sorry there bro, just wanted to give you a little taste."

"I'm only taking one hit bro... fuck" Your eyes widen not only did you just curse, something which you rarely do, you also just used bro in your sentence. Hoping he didn't notice you hold out your hand to take the blunt.

Ryan, who's grinning from ear to ear, hands you the blunt, and you quickly take a hit. You deeply inhale, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the weed invade your brain. A single hit, and you can almost feel your brain stopping.

"W...whaaat the fuuuuuck" You mumble. Your jaw slacks a bit as the smoke escapes from your lips.

"You gonna take that hit or not bro?" Ryan asked with a sly grin on his face.

"Huh didn't I just?'' You asked confused.

"Bro are you already tripping? I just blew some smoke in your face man, thats all. Now come on bro, you promised."

You took a hit, taking a deep breath, feeling the smoke fill your lungs, and your whole body. Slowly blowing out you feel constricted. You look down to see your buttoned up shirt bulging. You tug on it a bit, and it flies open, revealing a chiseled abdomen and two meaty pecs.

"Brooo wat the fahk' You mumble. "My chest is so big... what the hell"

"Yeah bro I know right. I love that strain. Made me who I am today" Ryan smirks as he takes off his hoodie showing his massive arms and chest.

You look in awe as he stretches a bit, his smooth torso , and bulging muscles on display. He drops his sweats, showing off a massive bulge in his white briefs as he looks at you and smirks.

"Wanna take another hit bro?"

Before he even finished his sentence the blunt was back in your mouth, filling you up with even more smoke. You look down and begin to giggle as you bounce your growing pecs.

"Huhuhu broo they are so bigg... what the shit..." You say as a familiar musk begins radiating from your growing body.

Ryan smiles back.

"Yeah bro you're getting so fuckin huge. You're so hot"

You look at him with a flushed face.

"What... did you say?"

"You're hot. You look amazing."

"Thanks..." You can't help but blush, seeing as he himself is a fucking model.

"You're really hot yourself" You say with a beetred face

Ryan stops smiling and looks at you. He sits down and looks you in the eyes.

"I don't want you to go Stevey. I love you..."

Your eyes widen at the words, and before you know it, his lips get pressed against yours. Before you can react he pushes his tongue into your mouth, and a torrent of smoke follows suit. It's almost as if hes blowing you up, and it feels that way too, Your muscles getting bigger, your mind hazier, and your dick... well...

You manage to push away and look at him.

"Ry... I ... "

"yeah?"

"I think... no ... I know... I love you too man"

Ryan signature shit eating grin flies back onto his face.

"Fuck yeah bro!!"

A sheepish smile creeps onto your face as you grab the blunt from his fingers, taking a massive hit before grabbing his neck and blowing the smoke into his mouth.

"You're so sexy." You say as he blows the smoke back into your face.

"What about you then, such a fucking cute stud you are"

The two of you continue laughing, finishing the blunt before crawling into each others arms.

You text your dad that he doesn't have to come get you anymore, as you will be staying with your boyfriend, and promptly block him afterwards.

You nuzzled up to your boyfriends pit and took a deep breath. It smelled amazing and it bricked you up knowing you smell the same.

This will be a pretty special Christmas.

__________________________________________________________

Happy Holidays Everyone!!!! Feel free to send in some asks or order something at Rakurai Inc.!!!

#transformation #male muscle growth #rakurai #gay tf #male transformation #dumbing down #blunt #stoner #gift #bisexual #coming out #musk

[agroteraa]

The Wrath of the Stag

Chapter two (the finale)

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Part 3.2.

Part 1: Actaeon

Part 2: Artemis

Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)

Warnings: smut, dubcon, fingering, choking, penetration sex, mentions of drugs, almost?onesided!Felix, dark!Oliver, character death, angst.

Word Count: 4K

So, you and Felix had reached the labyrinth.

Lush and blooming in daylight, it seemed hazy and darksome at night. But still, it was the same maze in which you used to love playing hide-and-seek and catch-up with Felix. You could never catch up with him, no matter how much you wanted to, which made you childishly angry, and he laughed and teased you all the time. Now it seemed somewhat symbolic to you.

"So, what did you want, can you finally say, please?" he wondered with a smile. He was already drunk enough, too, but you started sobering up a little from this long walk.

"You were right. Oliver can be weird. I thought we would talk, but he brushed me off and started dancing with one girl, then another... and then he and Venetia..."

You couldn't hold back your tears. Felix hugged you, comforting you. His warm embrace protected you from the cool air and sense of desperation. It seems as if he was covering you not only with safe arms, but also with his angelic wings.

"Hush, sweetie, hush," he said, quietly asking after a while, "...is it getting better?"

You nodded, looking up at him with tear-stained eyes.

Felix smiled slightly, gently wiping the tears from your cheek. Raising his eyebrows, he looked at you expressively, there was a pause in the air. Felix bent down and reached for your lips. You started answering without fully understanding what you were doing. All this alcohol, torn feelings, Oliver's behavior and, of course, the unrequited love for Felix buried deep inside you for several years, made you try to experience this feeling at least once. You enjoyed his warm, soft lips, hugging his shoulders, until it completely dawned on you. No, you couldn’t do that. Feelings for Felix were long in the past, and Oliver was in the present. The situation might be terrible and confusing, but at least you need to talk, and only then make such decisions as how to respond to someone's feelings or not. Especially since your feelings and thoughts now actually belonged to Oliver.

You gently pushed the guy away from you, "I'm sorry, Felix. I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"I'm... thinking about Oliver now."

"What?" he couldn't believe his ears, "Are you really ready to forgive this freak, even after everything I've told you?"

"We should at least listen to his side... and besides, I have... feelings for him," you finally admitted.

"Y/N, what should we listen to? He's a liar and a creep, that's all! What feelings? Oh, don't make me upset, please. I wouldn't want you to choose anyone over me, but if it's Oliver, then it's some kind of insult even!"

He grimaced, and you got angry, "Well, then don't be offended and better choose your own friends next time. Or, as your sister says, "toys"! But it's not for you to tell me who I should or shouldn't be with!"

"Fine. Have fun then! But I assure you, Oliver is unlikely to stay here for long..." Felix threw up his arms, and in a fit of anger turned around and left the maze.

* * *

Not far from the house, he plopped down on a bench, where Farleigh approached him with some two girls. Felix moodily lit a cigarette.

"Hey, buddy, what’s with the face?"

Catton Jr. said nothing and only frowned more, rolling the cig in his lips. Farleigh gave him a drink from his bottle, and then, turning around, quietly suggested, "Coke?"

* * *

You were wiping away the remnants of tears, leaning on the statue of the Minotaur and inhaling the sobering cool air. Looking up, you met the gaze of a horned monster. Despite the intimidating appearance, his eyes were plaintive, like a gentle cow's. You always paid attention to this detail, ever since you had noticed it once as a child, it helped you stop being afraid of the statue when you were running with Felix and Venetia in the maze. Any thing or person, if you look at them closer, does not seem as intimidating as at first glance. Perhaps even worthy of pity.

A familiar horned silhouette appeared in the maze.

"Oliver? How did you..."

"How did you like the party, Y/N? It seems that you completely abandoned your birthday boy tonight," he was slowly approaching you from the darkness. Up close, Oliver looked even more amazing in this suit. You involuntarily looked him up and down, lingering with your gaze on the naked torso peeking out from under the jacket, on which again hung only one chain reflecting the light of the moon. His summer-tanned skin contrasted so well with the glaringly white suit. The pebbles creaked softly under his feet as he came up to you and gently stroked your neck. Your skin covered with goosebumps. You swallowed, pushing those thoughts aside.

"Are you kidding me now? I didn't leave you for the whole evening. And it wasn't me dancing with some random girls and Venetia."

"Oh yeah? But it wasn't me who kissed one of the Cattons this evening!" his fingers closed palpably around your throat.

"Oliver... what are you doing..." he let the grip, and you continued, "Are you crazy? Why the hell were you following us? You're really doing this, gods… Just like Felix said... "

"Said what?"

"That you were watching Venetia and me and that you... did obscene things and told him that you... liked both of us."

He narrowed his eyes, "What else did Felix tell you today?"

You frowned, "That's all," he continued to look at you silently, "That’s enough for me, isn’t it for you?"

He pinned you at the pedestal of the monument, enclosing you between his strong arms. He looked at you with unblinking, darkening eyes and asked, "So, why the hell did you kiss Felix Catton?"

"He kissed me! I've been wanting to talk to you all evening, and you brushed me off... and then you started dancing with some girl.… And then with Venetia… And that's after everything Felix told me.… He tried to comfort me, but I... refused him. I wanted to talk to you first," hot tears rolled down your cheeks again. His face seemed to soften a little.

"First of all," Oliver said, "calm down, my dear. Secondly, you don't know anything. Thirdly," he runs his thumb over your left cheek, wiping away tears," This is still not a reason to kiss someone else. I'll explain everything clearly to you now."

Without warning, he got under the hem of your dress and inserted one finger into you. You exhaled sharply.

"About the window case... yes. I was looking at you, just at you, unable to look away. I will not apologize for this, although it is a pity that Felix and, in the end, you misunderstood me because of him. But these are his problems. Are you going to be mad at me for not being able to resist your beauty? Don't be silly, Y/N. Did you see yourself lying in a swimsuit under the hot summer sun? I did. I'll tell you, it's a sight that you can't handle yourself. Or rather, it was only my hand that could somehow handle it."

He added a second finger and slightly accelerated the pace.

"What about the party… I was in a bad mood, I needed to talk to Felix and explain about this situation so that he wouldn't upset you, but I couldn't find him anywhere. So, I asked his friend first, and then his sister. The fact that they were both drunk, high and desperate for any male attention is not my problem either. I don't know what you’ve imagined..."

The pace of his fingers became ruthless, Oliver also added a third finger, and it almost caused you real pain from the suddenness of everything that was happening. Another tear involuntarily rolled down your cheek.

"...but I've been hoping all evening that after talking to Felix that I'll finally get, as you said, my main gift..."

He licked your hot tear off your face with his even hotter tongue.

"You."

You almost came from a mixture of fear, excitement and arousal.

"I saw you walk past me, holding his hand and not saying a word to me. Of course, I followed you, especially since I needed to talk to him. And what do I see? How he. Kisses. My. Girlfriend."

It was the first time he had said "girlfriend". In a different environment, you'd been absolutely happy, but now a feeling of unknown anxiety had been added to this feeling. Oliver himself would prefer announcing it in different circumstances, but there we go. He pulled out your fingers, which glistened in the dark. You were panting a little. He ran his digits lightly over his lower lip.

"Tell me, is my name Felix Catton?"

You were silent. He couldn't be serious, could he?.. But Oliver leaned over to you and almost whispered his question into your lips, "Is. My. Name. Felix. Catton?"

"No..."

"So, what is my name?" he asked, staring intently into your eyes so that you wanted to sink through the ground. His hands squeezed your forearms painfully enough.

"O-Oliver..." you answered almost soundlessly.

"I can't hear you, Y/N. Say it a little bit louder, please."

You were silent, shaking slightly. It was like the air has left your lungs. Oliver sighed.

He took you by the hips and pulled you to him, turning you over with your chest and stomach on the pedestal of the monument, your front parts of your body were not used to the cold of the stone and immediately became covered with goosebumps, just like your palms and elbows, which you had to lean on now. He bent you and spread your legs wide apart, lifting the hem of your dress.

"You have a very beautiful outfit today, darling. I'm sorry I was out of sorts and didn't say it sooner – you look amazing tonight. Of course, I noticed it right away," you heard the sound of a belt slowly unbuckling, and then the sound of a fabric coming down, "So, who is this? Helena? Or Hermia? Oh, it must be Hermia, isn’t it? How ironic. I hope in this version of the story she won't have to choose between Lysander and Demetrius?"

Oliver, holding your hips, bent down and left a few kisses on your neck, going down to your shoulder blades.

"She won't have to."

With those words, he entered you, abruptly and without warning. You exhaled in a little shock. Oliver entered and fill you up completely at once and, almost without giving you time to get used to it, began unhurried, but nevertheless impatient movements with his hips. You started to sigh and whine, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second. He smiled, feeling it, "I didn't expect anything else. So, tell me, dear, what's my name? Only louder this time."

You let out a moan in response, and Oliver picked up the pace, "I'm going to bang those words out of you."

Your eyes were watering, but he watched the way you were twisting and panting. You liked this. He could see it in your face, which was slightly tilted to the side, could feel it within his core. He continued thrusting, his hips meeting your ass with each movement. He reached up, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you closer, the sensation restricting your breathing ever-so-slightly turned you on even more.

"So... what's my name?"

"Oli...ver..." you moaned, stumbling because of his strong grip and the rhythm he had set.

He practically went in and out of you completely with every move, the stone of the pedestal seemed to melt under you. The feeling of a little fear and anxiety completely turned into a pleasure that overshadowed everything else. Oliver took his hand off your throat and moved it to your hair, burrowing into it slightly.

"Oliver… Oliver!" you said louder, breathing heavily, the words turning into moans again.

"Good girl, that's exactly my name. And all the other names, and even more so lips, hands, and so on, you must forget. This is my wish for my birthday."

You looked back and your eyes finally met. His eyes were completely dark with lust, and his lips crooked into a satisfied smile when he caught your gaze. He was horned and you were incredibly horny. Heck, he was horny too, of course, not to say more.

You gasped every time as he was pushing inside you. You were so fucking tight, still so tight, you were need to be fucked more like that sometimes, he kept thinking to himself as he gritted his teeth, feeling your body pulsating around him.

"Fuck, girl, making such a mess over me," he groaned. His head fell back and his grip on you was tightening.

The moon casted a shadow of the two of you on the ground. Oliver's horned silhouette was crashing into you, and a horned monster was looking at it all from above. You were close to the end.

You were mewling, bucking your hips, wanting to take him deeper, the tip of his cock brushing against your most pleasurable spot with every thrust. He drove into you harder, holding you tighter, clenching his jaw. His pace was absolutely merciless and was already just abruptly knocking the air out of you instead of any screams.

"Oliver!.." you came around his cock, and a minute later he followed you, piling on top of you. He was breathing heavily, and then he kissed you on the shoulder, then on the neck, after that he turned you over and sat you on the pedestal of the statue, straightening your dress.

Buttoning up his white pants, he knelt down, gently wrapping his arms around your leg, kissing your knee and looking deep into your eyes. The feel of his warm fingertips against the slightly cold skin on your calf gave your chills. Then he took your hand, kissed it and pressed his face against it. Closing his eyes, he began to rub his cheek against your hand, burrowing his face into your palm. It was an act of adoration after the act of forcibly asserting his authority.

He was again just a mere stag by his Artemis’s side.

You stroked his dark soft hair, and then you began to grope his antlers. Sharp and hard, now you were stroking them securely, although it seemed that a moment earlier Oliver could stab someone with them out of rage. Maybe even you. Any thing or person, if you look at them closer, does not seem as intimidating as at first glance. Yet maybe not quite any.

He rose from his knees to the level of your face, and leaning on his hands next to your hands, he asked softly and hoarsely, "Are you mine, Y/N?"

His piercingly blue eyes were glowing in the dark along with his suit, which seemed almost luminescent white in the night.

"Yes, Oliver, I am yours," you replied, sealing your promise with a kiss.

* * *

You walked silently back to the house, out of the maze, through the garden, past the pond. The small pebbles crunched under your feet. The fresh air, all these wild experiences and emotions today and their passionate resolution made your legs feel wobblier with every step, and your eyes began to feel weary.

Upon entering the hall where the party was going on, you were greeted by loud music again:

One, two, three, four

Let me hear you scream if you want some more

Like ah, push it, push it

Watch me work it

I'm perfect

Oliver kissed you on the stairs. Few people paid attention, but he knew that Felix would most likely notice if he was here. And he was here, and he noticed. You turned around and saw that Felix was already dancing with some girl and was clearly having a good time with her. You were upset. It didn't last long, you thought bitterly. Even though he probably had a lot to drink, it was no excuse to forget his intentions so quickly. But you didn't know that he had been high for a long time on top of everything else.

"Can you get me something to drink?" you moaned.

"Baby, haven't you had enough for today?" Oliver began mockingly, and then, seeing your frown, added, "The wishes of the birthday boy’s girlfriend are the law," and left for cocktails.

That's right, I'm a superstar

Everybody wanna come up when I'm at the bar

All the people wanna try

It's like, give me some more

Try a little harder, honey

Give me some more

You were looking at Felix and the girl in the fairy costume again. He could not take his hands off her, then bent down and began to whisper something to her, or maybe not only whisper, which made her giggle.

Perfection… ha-ha!

The female singer's voice seemed to mockingly comment on the situation.

Your heart has almost broken once again this night. When you saw a drink nearby on a nearby table, you knocked it over without looking at the contents. Damn, it seemed like it was something very strong. Oliver returned with two cocktails, blocking you in every sense from this view. Smiling, you downed another cocktail in almost one sitting. Your head began to spin pleasantly again, pushing out unnecessary thoughts. You and Oliver danced a little. How fabulous he was in that outfit, your birthday boy. The music seemed to disappear for a while when you enjoyed this moment of dancing, without taking your eyes off each other.

Then, the music almost abruptly hit you with a throbbing headache and a heaviness in your eyelids and legs. It seems that fatigue and a sense of stress have returned, multiplied by repeated alcohol intoxication. Oliver led you through the entire crowd and all the rooms, almost every one of which had its own mini-party, until you found yourself on your floor. He carefully helped you undress and put you to bed. Your body ached pleasantly, feeling the soft mattress underneath and the duvet above.

"Good night, Ollie."

"Good night, Y/N," he said softly, "And... Sorry for everything."

"We sort of settled everything," you assured him, being sure that he was only talking about the events of the evening, and not about anything else, "Everything will be fine."

"Everything will be fine, that is for sure."

* * *

Oliver returned to the hall, a bottle of wine in his hand. Felix never let talk to him, literally sent him away, and Quick wanted to give him another chance. Or maybe he didn't want to anymore after Felix laid his eyes and not only the eyes on Y/N.

Catton Jr. danced merrily with his fairy, and then at some point took her by the hand and led her across the hall, outside. Oliver watched all this closely, gloomily drinking from a bottle, leaning against the wall.

Felix's clouded mind told him to finish the job, his regrets almost completely blocked by drugs, alcohol and the desire to lick his wounded ego. Therefore, his almost mindless brain led him down the road that he already knew well. Into the maze.

Oliver followed, his wrath building with each slow but firm step as he was running through all the events that had happened. Going to his parents without warning, ignoring his requests and pleas to stop, turn around, or at least not go with him. The discovery of the truth, the way Felix pushed him away, calling him a fucking liar, yet he had nosed into Oliver's life himself. The way fear and contempt were read in his eyes, mixed with an inner struggle whether to tell it all to everyone or not. To tell it to Y/N or not. The way he started turning Y/N against him. The way he started hitting on Y/N, especially now, knowing it all. And how he immediately traded you for some random girl. And all this was on the date of his birthday celebration.

No, there won't be a second chance, Oliver thought to himself as he poured a huge dose of the drug into the bottle.

It was tempting to say that Felix flew too close to the sun, but he was actually the sun himself. So dazzlingly bright and inviting. It was all the others who were too close to him in the rays of his destructive splendor and the hopes of living the same incredible life as his that endlessly flew up and burned. Besides, it was the middle of the night in Saltburn, so the allegory would be completely missed. However, in addition to those infamous wings, Daedalus created something else - the labyrinth of Knossos, where the Minotaur dwelled and suggested a horror, devouring beautiful young men.

Which meant that Icarus was destined to die anyway from the creation of Daedalus.

The dark antlered silhouette followed the winged youth with the confidence of a predator.

By stepping into this labyrinth, carefree Icarus himself signed the verdict of his fate.

* * *

It still seemed to you that all this was a terrible foggy ill dream from which you still could not wake up from. The scream that Felix had been found with was still ringing in your ears sometimes.

It had been a few days now, and you still couldn't believe that he was gone. No matter what, he was an angel. Childishly selfish, but still generous, open-hearted and always ready to help and support. You remembered his costume at the party and smiled bitterly. Really an angel. And even more so now.

You were so regretful that you didn't speak to him again that night. Were so sorry that you went to bed early and didn't see much. That you never knew that Felix and Farleigh were taking some drugs that night, to the point it was too much and too late, and Farleigh was anyhow to blame for it and he couldn’t save him. That you couldn’t save him.

You went into Oliver's room, but he hadn’t come yet. While waiting, you began to walk around the room, and suddenly saw a book by his bedside table, your birthday present. You sat down on the bed, picked up the book and began to look at it again. Icarus with golden wings, falling away from the sun. You ran your finger over the gold embossed cover. Tears welled up your eyes. Gods. You started crying uncontrollably, hot tears dripping right onto the cover of the book. Gently throwing the book on the bed, you buried your face in your hands and bent over in sobs.

"Y/N, what are you..." Oliver came into the room and rushed to hug you.

"Ollie... the book... I..." you spoke barely legibly through sobs. He began to calm you gently, squeezing you tightly in his arms, "I'm here, my darling, everything is fine."

He wish he could take away this pain that you were experiencing right now, but it was impossible to take away what he had caused himself. Yet he was sincerely comforting you, hugging and kissing you in the most caring way possible, "I'm here and I'll always be there, no matter what happens, you'll be safe and sound with me," his whispering was hot and assuring.

Oliver used to think that there was nothing better than the feeling when you comforted him. However, the way you looked at him with your eyes full of tears, trustfully snuggling closer, searching for his support and his consolation, it turned out to be a feeling on a completely different level. The way you needed him, him and no one else. And only he could grant you any relief. At that moment, he felt that he was close to the deity. Your personal deity.

And Oliver was ready to arrange a hundred more accidents to experience this feeling again.

A hundred? This was, of course, too much. But it was in his power to do a couple more.

He took a deep breath of your scent, burying his nose deeper into your hair and holding you closer. Besides, Saltburn looked like a lovely place for your future shared happily ever after.

#oliver quick x reader #saltburn #oliver quick x you #oliver x you #saltburn imagine #oliver #oliver quick #oliver quick smut #oliver quick imagine #saltburn 2023 #saltburn smut #saltburn x reader #saltburn x you #barry keoghan #barry keoghan smut #barry keoghan x reader #barry keoghan x you #barry keoghan imagine #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton smut #felix #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #fanfiction #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #imagine #smut fanfiction

[wireman-au]

Your name is Impulse. You are currently standing outside the seemingly-abandoned split-level family home that belongs to your good friend Tango. You have the keys to the house; Tango gave them to you years ago. He said that in emergencies, you are allowed to go into his house whenever you want. You think it's an emergency. Skizzleman thinks you need some sleep. You think you need the police to listen to you, first.

Here are some other facts you know:

The first seventy-two hours of a missing persons case are the most important.

You haven't slept for nearly thirty of those hours.

Tango wouldn't just skip out on one of your board game nights, not even for something important at work.

The police say Tango often goes out of town without telling anyone for long stretches of a time; it comes with his classified job.

He's always told you, though.

"I really don't think this is a good idea, buddy," Skizz says, nervously looking around the front yard as you jiggle the key in the lock. He's come with you, because he's a good friend, and also a bit of a pushover. Because you're also a good friend, you have not told him that it's a pushover thing to do, coming with you to break into Tango's house if he thinks it's a bad idea, but hey, you aren't going to stop him, now are you?

"Relax. He said we could come in for emergencies," you say, jiggling the key again with annoyance. If Tango's changed his locks, you're going to be tempted to break a window.

"I mean, you think Tango's missing, right?" Skizz says.

"Know," you correct.

"Know," agrees Skizz, although you're pretty sure he's just humoring you. It's hard to tell, on account of having not slept in the past day. "It's just, you know, if he's missing, and the police investigate, if we've broken in recently it won't look good."

"I mean, I wouldn't have to do this if they'd just listen to me!" you say. The door finally opens. You stumble inside. Oh, Tango just hadn't fixed the pin in the lock that liked to get stuck. No changed locks. Good.

"Dude, you know I'm with you, one hundred percent, but I think if you just sleep for a moment--"

"I don't have time to take a nap right now!" you say, maybe a bit meaner than you meant to. In your defense, you haven't slept.

You walk into Tango's house. It largely looks normal. Suspicious; Tango's house never looks normal. As you look around for things that might be hidden, you consider additional facts you know:

Tango missed board game night yesterday, but you haven't seen him for at least two days before that.

You live two neighborhoods over; the number of times you run into each other at the grocery store is immense.

You've never liked his job.

The police said not to worry; Tango is an adult.

The first seventy-two hours of a missing persons case are the most important.

"I know, I know," Skizz says, before pausing. "Huh. Where's all his gizmos?"

"Right?" you say. "He normally has so much weird stuff--ow!"

Skizz rushes over to you. "You good?"

"Yeah just--my head hurts."

"Migraines are a symptom of--"

"I know!"

You stand in Tango's weirdly empty living room. You breathe. You try to deal with the sudden wave of dizziness that's overcome you. You breathe. It starts to fade. Your head still hurts.

"Anyway," you say. "We don't have infinite time. Now, if I were Tango, where would I hide proof I'd been kidnapped or murdered or something?"

"Dude. Don't suggest murder already," mutters Skizz, but, loyally, he starts to look around with you. You're really lucky, having good friends like that who can actually sleep.

Another spike of pain runs through your head.

[CONNECTION GRANTED.]

The sooner you can figure this all out, the better.

#wireman au #FILE #SUBJECT: impulse #hermitcraft #impulsesv #skizzleman

[uluvjay]

List 2 33 and 26 with Luke Hughes

Luke Hughes x Fem! Reader

I imagined this as an older Luke who's already been in the league for a while

warnings?; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex(wrap it up), light fingering, possessive Luke, drinking, club scene, weird guy, pet names, kissing, slight choking kink, semi-public sex?, Luke is a little bossy, i cant think of anymore.

I hope you enjoy sorry for any errors!

"You're not going out dressed like that" Luke laughed as I made my way into his living room clad in a short black dress ready for a night out with our shared friend group.

"And why not?" I questioned back with a bit of attitude

"Because that dress is way too short" he exclaimed, crossing his arms across his chest

"You're not my dad Luke and i'll wear whatever I want" I sighed before continuing "Now come on, our uber is almost here" giving him no time to argue as you headed out the front door.

-

There wasn't any conversation held in the Uber ride to the club and once the two of us made it into the club we hardly spoke once he went off with the boys and me with the fellow wags.

"what's up with you and Luke?" Dawson's girlfriend asked

"He tried telling me i couldn't wear this out and it made me made mad and then i made him mad so we're kinda just annoyed with each other" I explained

the girls laughed before another wag spoke up, "Sounds like your gonna have a fun time once you get home" she winked causing me to blush

"whatever you say, i'm going to get a refill" I giggled as I stood up from the booth and made my way to the bar

As i was waiting for a bartender's attention i felt a body move next to mine that held a strong scent of booze and overpowering cologne. I looked up and saw a man that seemed a lot older than me looking down with a creepy smile.

"Hi, I'm Shawn" he greeted

"Y/N" i replied with a tight lipped smile

"What's a pretty young thing like you doing here all alone?" he questioned

"Oh i'm not here alone, I'm with my-" I started before i felt arms wrapping around my waist and a familiar voice cutting me off.

"With her boyfriend"

I looked up and seen Luke looking at the guy with an annoyed expression on his face

"Whoa calm down buddy, couldn't tell she had a boyfriend by the way she was dressed" he laughed and i could feel Luke's grip tighten on me.

I turned around in his arms and did my best to calm him down before he swung on the guy, "Luke he's not worth it it, come one let's just go back to the group"

But as i tried pushing him he stopped me, "No we're going home, I'll have Jack get your bag from the girls" he grumbled and pulled me towards the front doors of the club.

I tried my best to keep up with the fast strides of his long legs but I only kept tripping as he pulled me along, “Luke! Slow down your going to fast” I called

What I didn’t expect was for him to come to a dead stop and cause me to slam into his back, before I got the chance to complain he turned around and pinned me to a wall.

“I told you not to wear this fucking dress but you didn’t listen and look what happened. So now I’m going to take your ass home and fuck you until you can learn how to listen” he spat

He grabbed my wrist and resumed pulling me outside the club. He didn’t say anything as we waited for our Uber to arrive just kept an arm around me and the ride to his apartment was just the same.

As we entered the elevator I couldn't help but stare up at him, he still kept a tight hold on my hand while keeping the same stone cold look he's had on his face since we had left the club. Feeling my stare he turned his head to look down at me but never spoke a word, i could see the lust and frustration clouding his eyes.

The ding of the elevator reaching his floor pulled our eyes apart and he surged forward pulling me with him. As we entered his apartment he headed to the living room while i started my way to the bedroom before his voice stopped me.

"Ah uh come here" he called to me

I walked to where he stood by his beautiful floor to ceiling window's and waited for his next move.

"Take your heels off" he commanded

I did as he asked and watched as he turned towards me, he reached a hand up to cup my jaw looking down at me with a dark look in those lust filled eyes.

"I'm gonna fuck you against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it" he smirked at the whimper that escaped my mouth

I couldn't take the tension anymore and quickly leaned up to pull him into a kiss, it was sloppy and rough full of neediness and desperation. A moan escaped my throat as he pinned me against the window and slipped his hand from my jaw to my throat while his free hand parted my thighs and slid under my dress.

A gasp got caught in my throat as he slipped a hand into my panties and ran his index finger through my folds.

"So wet for me" he groaned at the feeling of your wet folds coating his finger in your sweet nectar.

"Lu, stop teasing" I whined

I heard him scoff, "You're not in any position to demand anything right now"

My breathing picked up as he slipped a finger inside me and began pumping it at a slow and teasing pase.

"Been a brat and think you can tell me what to do?" he laughed in my face

He knew i wasn't able to reply to him, to plagued by the pleasure from his hand between my legs and his grip around my throat. I cried out loudly as i felt his ring finger hit that spongy spot inside me and my stomach began to tighten.

"Luke I'm getting close!" i whined but quickly regretted it as i felt him remove his hand from my panties.

I opened my mouth to protest his actions but the sight of him taking his shirt off and his pants following cut me off, he had worked hard this past off season causing a lot of quickies in the gym bathroom.

He stood left in nothing and had me remove my dress and panties also leaving me bare in front of him. He walked me backwards till i was once again pinned against the window and reached his hands under my thighs and signaled me to jump.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he held me in his arms, "Can't wait to fuck you" he groaned as i reached down to direct his thick cock to my core.

We both let out groans as he slipped inside me, allowing me to adjust for a moment before he picked up a pace. He fucked me teasingly at first with slow and deep strokes, i listened to his deep groans and got wetter with each one he let out.

"Baby please go faster" I cried

He looked me in my eyes as he made one more slow thrust before he pulled almost all the way out and snapped his hips into mine at an unforgiving pace.

"Shit!" i cried as his pelvis slammed against my clit

I threw my head back against the glass and felt him lean even closer to place kisses on my neck, i reached up and threaded my fingers through his curls tugging as he nipped my sweet spot.

I felt his thrust starting to get sloppy and his groans get louder in my ear, "Play with yourself Y/N" he demanded

I quickly did as he said and reached a hand in between us to start rubbing my clit, "Lukey i'm getting close" i cried out feeling the fire in my lower stomach get hotter.

"Me too baby, cum with me"

We locked eyes as he gave his last few thrust before we both released with loud moans, Luke bit down on my neck as I pulled harshly on his hair at the feeling of ecstasy rolling through my body and the feeling of his warm cum spilling deep inside me.

We both panted as we parted and Luke sat me down on my feet, i stared up at him with a blissed out expression as he stared down at me with a smirk.

"I'll go get a bath started" I spoke up as i began to step away from him but his hand catching my wrist stopped me.

"Who said I was done with you?" he questioned

"Well I-"

"Well nothing, I told you I was going to fuck you until you learned to behave" he spat as he pulled me into him and picked me up bridal style and walked up over to his couch.

-

Sorry this ending was kind of ass i didn't know where to go

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes smut #nhl #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #uluvejay request week #new jersey devils #got a little carried away

[kichiyosh1]

Deceitful youth

Modern au! scaramouche x f! reader

w//: yandere themes, suggestive, cross-dressing, obsession, photographs of you and your stolen things

summary: When you finally transfer to an all girls school, he was left with no choice but to take on a false female identity. Just so he wouldn't have to be separated from you, he'd do anything.

< previous | Masterlist | next >

He was obsessed with you from the start.

That day in grade school when you found him playing alone in a corner and you came to offer your hand out for him to take, inviting him to play with the other kids with a cheery smile on your face.

"It must be boring playing there by yourself, come on! i'll introduce you to the others!"

He only stared at your outstretched hand, before looking back up to meet your eyes, his eyebrows drooping before he averted his gaze a few seconds after.

"I don't like playing with the other kids, they think i'm weird..."

"What do they think they're talking about? there's nothing wrong with being weird! I mean, i think i'm weird, but there's nothing wrong with me, see?" you then proceeded to flail your arms out in the air, thinking that'd somehow convince him of your point.

'nope, there's definitely something wrong with you' he wanted to say, but he decided ignoring you would be the best course of action. Unfortunately, you weren't going to let him.

"Let me play with you then! whether if you're called weird or not, I dont mind, because you're definitely much cooler looking than the other kids!"

Cool? you think he was cool? better than the other kids even? he went silent after that, a little too flustered to say anything, but didn't make a move to pull his hand out of your grasp as you led him to who knows where.

if only those times with you could've lasted longer

As time went on you became more distant with the people around you, especially when it came to the opposite sex. He knew what your reasons were, you had told him before you decided to cut all ties.

"My mom... doesn't like the idea of me hanging around with other people, especially boys for some reason. Ah, it's not that I don't like hanging out with you! but, I'm really sorry."

Despite this, that didn't stop his on growing obsession for you. From grade school all the way to high school, he was content knowing you were still in the same school as him. Even if he had to keep a good distance away as to not scare you off. How his fingers nails would dig deep into the wood of the outdoor table when he sees you all buddy, buddy with your friend group, and to no ones surprise, only consisted of girls.

Your mother really did engrave it in your brain, the 'all men are evil' kind of saying, annoyingly enough. The way your face would deflate whenever a guy would walk by a little too close to you. Seeing you fear other guys brought a strange feeling of delight and relief to him. The chances of you getting a boyfriend was beyond negative and non-existent.

Maybe your mother wasn't all that crazy and weird after all. It's true, had it been anyone else, any other guy, they were undeserving of your time and attention. Who knows how they would have treated you, but not him, because only he could treat you right.

You had befriended him first, and in return he will continue to watch over you, as the loving boyfriend you didn't know you had and needed.

So why.

Why did you leave?

"It's been a week since [y/n] transferred to that all girls school."

A week? he's surprised he hasn't spiraled yet into madness.

"Tsk, she thinks she's better than us that she can just up and leave like that?"

'Annoying wench, of course she's better than you, in fact, you're not even close to her league'

"Man, good thing I'm a guy, If I wasn't I'd probably be there too."

'ugh, nobody's forcing you, who the hell cares what—'

he nearly choked

eyes bloodshot when he scanned the room, his bedroom. Why was he here? shouldn't he be in school? Wait, you didn't attend the same school as him anymore, so what even was the point of going?

He layed there with his arm over his forehead, his eyes devoid of any light, the same ones that were present whenever you'd step into a room.

If only he could follow you, he would, but how? If only the world would bend down to his wants, and rules be damned when it came to you. He zoned out the knocking at his door, faintly hearing the jingling of keys when his sister stepped into the room.

"Really? getting all worked up because of some girl that you can't even bother with your attendance anymore?" Raiden Mei, better than being scolded by his mother atleast.

"You're trespassing." said in such a robotic and raspy voice, his glare was received unfazed by mei. "Relax, I've got today off so I decided to be the oh so kind sister that I am and do everyone's laundry. Unless you want to continue living like the hermit that you are under all this pile of trash." He didn't bother replying, and neither did mei want to continue the conversation further, so silence enveloped the room as she rummaged through the pile of clothes that were on the floor.

but something caught her eye, at the foot of the heep was a pretty [f/c] t-shirt that had obviously no business being there. "This-","Don't touch that!" the grip he had on her was inhumane, he hovered above her with a look that clearly said 'don't'. Despite the burning sensation on her wrist, there wasn't a single sign of discomfort shown, instead it was disgust.

"So not only are you a creep," Her eyes wandered to the many pictures of you he had on his wall, she tried to the best of her ability to ignore whenever entering his room, "you're a thief too." She jerked her hand out of his grasp, leaving the t-shirt alone before quickly finishing up collecting his dirty clothes.

"Mind your own damn business","if it would make you feel any better, mom thought you were gonna be a girl, atleast she hoped you would be."

she rested her hand on the doorknob, pausing for a moment, causing scaramouche to raise a brow. "and that's going to help me feel better, how?"

"maybe if she continued believing you were a girl, maybe you would have been, if that came to be then i guess you would have been able to follow her." His breath hitched, the cogs in his head finally starting to turn.

The door to his room was already closed when mei let out a sigh, 'Could have been blessed with a sister, but I've been cursed to have this gremlin for a brother' she'd be lying if she said she wasn't concerned, whether if it was for you or for him, that was none of her buisness.

"poor girl".

_

Back in his room, he was already plotting what he'd do next. The answer was so obvious, so easy for him to achieve, that he's wondering why he hasn't thought of it sooner.

"Being a girl, huh," it wasn't impossible for him to do, he already has feminine features, as he wasn't blessed with a muscular body. He knows how to do make-up, and it would probably be best if he wore a wig to add on to his girly appearance. He'd need to change his wardrobe too, he'll have to do a little bit of research on what girls usually wear depending on what occasion. He's not worried about changing his identity, he's had experience before when making fake accounts and id's. The transfer won't be a problem, he can use his mother's connections to get him in, quite the convenience. You probably already forgot about him, as much as it hurts to say, but it's for the best so you won't be able to recognise him.

He's already getting lightheaded at the idea, giggling to himself imagining all the things he could get away with. Visiting your room wouldn't be weird, sleepovers? he gets to sleep next to you? he's shaking at the idea. Maybe even borrow each other's things, make-up, clothes, food? If you saw him as a girl then you wouldn't have to be afraid of him. It wouldn't be weird if he got all touchy with you, I mean your friends do it all the time, right?

something was starting to rise between his legs, he cringed at the motion. He better keep that in check if he doesn't want his secret to be revealed once he gets close to you.

He's sighing dreamily, his hand going over the framed photo he has of you on his desk. It was the one his mother took when the both of you were still in grade school.

"My [y/n], my darling [y/n]." His gaze softened at the idea of finally being close to you, once again.

"Let's start over."

pt.2?

#kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer #kabukimono x reader #kabukimono #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #I forgot secret alliance existed damn

[thebestbooksaround]

This is a Buddie fic rec list where "one of them isn't a firefighter" That makes me warm and happy every time I read them <3

Part 1 || Part 2

Spousal Secrets and Celebrity Crushes by AshwinMeird (@ashwinmeird) | 9k | General

Eddie joined the 118 and Hen learned plenty about his husband and son through endless stories, but she knew almost nothing about Buck. Then a movie being filmed not far from the station starts to become very relevant to her life. Or Five times Hen was confused about Eddie's husband and One time it all made sense

i'll walk through fire for you by prettyboybuckley (@greyacebuckley) | 3k | General

Eddie just shrugs, and they leave him alone, chattering about something he tunes out as he stares out the window. At least, until Bobby starts briefing them on what they're walking into.

He hears the address, and his stomach turns. That's where Buck lives. 

"There was an explosion somewhere in the building," Bobby tells them over the comms. "Third floor is fully engulfed, the building is unstable, and there are people trapped up there, still. There's one other firehouse on the scene already."

OR: In a universe where Buck is not a firefighter but they're still best friends, Eddie gets called to a fire at Buck's apartment building

call you home by ashavahishta (@ashavahishta) | 6k | General

"He’s like, so pretty sometimes I can’t believe he’s real?” He’d rambled once, so tired at the end of shift he was basically drunk with it.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Hen had said patiently, and patted him on the shoulder. “I like girls, remember?”

“He’s built like a Greek god with the face of an angel,” Eddie had argued, a stubborn set to his mouth like he was determined for Hen to believe just how gorgeous his husband was. “Even you couldn’t resist that.”

Or: "Eddie Diaz drinks his 'I fucking love my husband' juice for 6,000 words." OR "5 Times Eddie Told The Firefam About Buck and 1 Time They Actually Met Him".

we're not in love (but the sex is good) by elless | 15k | Explicit

Eddie is new to LA. Feeling lonely, he goes to a bar for a drink and meets a beautiful stranger that kisses like a dream. What starts as a one night stand quickly moves to frequent no strings sex. When circumstances lead to them spending time together out of bed, Eddie realizes he’s attached to Buck in a way he never planned for.

the handyman can ('cause he fixes it with love) by iphigenias (@oatflatwhite) | 4k | Teen

Eddie’s first thought when he opens the door is that Hen’s finally getting payback for Eddie hustling her in pool last Friday. The guy standing on the stoop is sweaty, smiling, with biceps that look like they could jaws-of-life a car all on their own and a very pink, very biteable kiss of a birthmark above his crinkled blue eyes. His toolbelt looks like every toolbelt from every bad porn movie ever, slung absurdly low on his hips, and the acid-wash jean shorts he’s wearing absolutely cannot be OSHA-approved.

Eddie decidedly does not look at the thick muscle of the guy’s thighs when he says, “uh, I think you have the wrong house.”

we can’t fight gravity (love is like falling) by alasse (@alasse9) | 21k | Teen

Eddie is an actor (a former child star of a major franchise who only does weird indie movies nowadays), and Buck is still a firefighter. The universe screams at them a few times—through a tsunami, an unfortunate misunderstanding, and an emergency at a movie set—until they finally get it together.

Close My Eyes and Stumble (Right Into Your Love) by HMSLusitania (@hmslusitania) | 21k | Mature

Eddie's PTSD is just that little bit worse and when he moves to Los Angeles, instead of joining the LAFD, he joins dispatch.

Which is all good and fine, except for this one firefighter he keeps ending up talking to.

(is in the back of my mind and on the tip of my tongue) by waferkya (@oursisthewinter) | 17k | Teen

Soft, dark hair, just long enough to begin curling at the tips; expressive eyebrows and an impossibly straight nose that should belong on some Greek statue, full pink lips stretched in a wide smile just this side of goofy, and a wonderful amount of stubble dusting his jaw; broad shoulders hugged to perfection by the dark blue police uniform, his entire body a stretch of tight muscle. Yeah, yup, yes. Chim is not wrong. The man is handsome as sin. Also, he’s a cop, which—hi, hello, that’s hot.

[AU in which Eddie is a cop who just moved to LA; Buck has zero self-esteem, a praise kink the size of the desert and no clue on how to pick a decent Dom; and eventually love conquers all.]

Write me into your happy ending... by ReallySmartLadyMarieCurie | 16k | Teen

Four years ago when Eddie and Christopher started reading the book series about Daniel's Adventures together before bedtime, Eddie never would have guessed that he would run into the author of said book series in the middle of a Barnes & Noble in LA. He also wouldn't have guessed that said encounter would begin with him sternly lecturing the stranger and making a slight fool of himself. Nor would he have predicted that this terrible first impression would somehow make the published author want to give his phone number to Eddie.

Or, Eddie the firefighter and Buck the writer have a meet-cute, and things progress from there.

i wanna be known (by you) by chasingoblivion (@starlightbuck) | 12k | General

“I didn’t mean to do it.” Hen glances down at Eddie’s phone then back up at him in disbelief. “How do you ‘not mean’ to download a bunch of dating apps but still have them on your phone?” Or  In which Eddie delves into the intimidating world of online dating.

String of hearts... by ReallySmartLadyMarieCurie | 11k | Teen

“Now. Eddie is this incredible presence. He’s funny and smoking hot, and he has a son who sounds wonderful. And he’s serious and vulnerable at times. But so enjoyable to be around, every single second that he’s there. And how can I put myself out there when the expectation is so high? When the thing I might lose is so beautiful?”

In which Buck owns a plant shop in LA, and Eddie becomes his new favorite customer. Pining ensues.

Confirmation Bias by strifechaos | 31k | Mature

After the fallout with his ex-wife, Eddie believed he could only trust his family with his son. He hadn’t imagined falling for his son’s sweet-hearted nanny, Buck.

With his own family so distant, Buck never considered that he’d be lucky enough to find a home for himself, let alone people he could count on. Not until he meets the Diaz boys.

AU: Buck was never a firefighter, and becomes Christopher's sitter when Shannon's job takes her away from Eddie and Chris for the summer. Eddie tries to not fall for his son's nanny, he's not very successful.

serendipity (can't get him off my mind) by elless | 7k | Teen

Buck has his job at the daycare, his sister, and good friends. And not much else. His life hasn't turned out how he expected. Then he gets a wrong number text that changes everything. He and Eddie click instantly, but Eddie lives in Texas while Buck is in LA. It can never work, especially if Buck is too afraid to make a move.

Buckley's Bouquets by awashleyno | 23k | Teen

A world where Buck owns a flower shop and manages to develop a huge, massive, ridiculous crush on a handsome firefighter that comes in for a visit one day.

Or, 5 times Eddie gives flowers to other people and the 1 time he gives them to Buck.

the meaning of the words you see by florenceandthemachine (@florenceandthemachine) | 8k | Explicit

unknown sender: Hi! unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number. Sorry I had to run. unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way. sent: hey um sent: i don’t want 2 be this guy but sent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone

Frequent Flyer by red_to_black (@redtooblack) | 13k | Mature

In his entire time being a firefighter, Eddie has never met anyone as accident-prone as Evan Buckley. And Buck - well, he's quickly becoming the 118's best customer.

(Or - the one where Eddie is a firefighter, Buck isn't, and Eddie finds himself rescuing Buck from increasingly sticky situations. Sometimes literally.)

i'm gonna make this place your home by chromatophorica (@chromatophorica) | 11k | Teen

"Hey, did you know that other people can go to the kids' islands on that game?" He asks Hen the following day at work, stocking up the ambulance with her while Chim teaches the probie how to roll hoses.

"Yeah, I mean, they go to each other's all the time." Which, yeah, in a way, Eddie knew that part

"No, I mean other people, like people on the internet or whatever." Hen shoots him a look, one that states he's showing his usual technophobic ways again. “I'm just saying, some person that Chris called 'Buck' was on his island just like... giving him things.” It feels a lot like those stories about grooming or whatever, when the internet was new and people pretended to be something they weren't. What if this Buck person was an old guy in a creepy basement trying to befriend kids on a game? --- During the pandemic, Christopher gets more involved in online gaming. Eddie promptly freaks out when he realises his son has made a friend through the games. It takes Chimney's girlfriend and a car crash to understand how important that friend will be.

#Fics I love #Buddie #Eddie Diaz #Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley #911onfox #911 fan fiction #buddiefanfiction #Buddie fic #911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 on abc

[shdo-xplosion]

spaghetti straps - r. shidou ࿐

warnings: 2.4k; fem-bodied reader, coercion, reader wants to fuck more than she’d like to admit, shidou is a little annoying, shidou can lift and hold you (he stronk athlete), dirty talk, semi-public sex, a little plot, p in v, creampie

note: hi! (✿◠‿◠) my first shidou fic (finally) and my contribution to @saintshiba’s sundress szn collab! truly hope everybody enjoys my take on him cause i am so obsessed with him. banner manga cap colored by moi! plspls let me know what you think of my writing! feedback means a lot (≧◡≦)

You aren’t used to wearing things other than your typical track shorts and t-shirts, never one for fashion or dressing up, though you admire anyone who enjoys that kind of stuff.

But it’s summer, and it’s hot, and you’re at a beach house with some friends. Pulling a cotton shirt and shorts on and off over a wet bathing suit is simply not it, so for this weekend you’ve decided to pack sundresses instead of your usual attire.

It’s been 2 days and all the stares you’ve been getting from the guys are still weird, most of confusion and/or surprise, but there are a couple friends, specifically one infuriating, blond-haired insect of a man, who is very obvious in the way he looks at you, magenta eyes half-lidded, salacious smirk stretching across his lips. It’s maddening, made even worse by the fact that he already knows what you’re hiding under your little sundress.

“The yellow suits you,” Shidou purrs in your ear in the kitchen, and you feel one of his fingers wiggle underneath the thin shoulder strap of your bikini top. “Goes nice with the purple suit.”

“Too bad none of it’s for you,” you grumble, trying not to pay him much attention.

He isn’t so much your ex-boyfriend as much as your ex-mistake, a fuck buddy you had the misfortune of catching feelings for only for him to let you down gently. Or, as gently as someone like Shidou could manage.

I still wanna fuck you, though, he had told you thoughtlessly. It’s better than nothing for you, right?

You had immediately cut things off, both hurt and offended that he just assumed his dick would be enough to keep you around. That you were so desperate for him that you would just take what you could get.

No, you hadn’t quite reached that level of infatuation.

You’re still a little bitter about it, a little embarrassed, but you’re also irritated, especially since he insists on coming onto you even now.

“Who’s it for then, hm?” he asks, bending down enough for his breath to hit your neck. It gives you goosebumps. It also makes you squirm away from him.

“For me. ‘Cause it’s easy and breezy.”

“And beautiful… cover girl,” he quotes. You fight not to laugh. “But really, the dresses look good on you. You should let me take some pictures…” he wiggles his eyebrows. “More for my private collection.”

You make a face of disgust. “Ugh, you haven’t deleted those yet?” The thought of him having all kinds of lewd photos of you both disturbs and excites you. Does that mean he still uses them?

“Why would I delete such quality content?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you threaten, “if you post those anywhere, I’ll kill you.”

Shidou grins crookedly. “Kinky.”

With an exasperated huff, you walk away.

~*~

Even with crazy, windblown hair and covered in sweat, you can still sense Shidou watching you. It makes your already heated skin burn even hotter.

Currently you’re situated under an umbrella, just scrolling on your phone while all the guys play a game of beach volleyball. If it can even be called that. They should definitely stick to soccer.

You aren’t surprised when Shidou plops down next to you, dusting up some sand so that it powders your bare thighs.

“White today,” he comments, picking at the hem of your short dress.

All you offer is a noncommittal, “mm,” gritting your teeth at the feeling of his fingertips grazing your skin.

“Makes you look innocent,” he continues. “Which we both know is a lie.”

“Shidou, please drop it. Admire from afar if you have to, but—”

“Miss when you used to call me Ryu.” He nuzzles into your shoulder, inhaling deeply, and when you try to shrug him off, you feel his teeth against your skin. He doesn’t bite hard, but it’s enough to anchor him to you.

“Ryu!” you squeal, shoving his face away.

“Just like that,” he grins before mimicking you ‘Ryu’. “Used to scream my name like that when I’d fuck you real good.”

“God, you are insufferable!”

He’s also turning you on, much to your disappointment. Hand slowly slipping under your dress, a small nibble to your earlobe.

“I know all your spots, baby. Just give in. You know you want to.” He’s using that seductive voice that always makes your breath quicken and your eyes dilate. Everything is brighter even with your sunglasses.

“See, you’re already spreading your legs for me.”

He’s right. Your knees aren’t pressed together anymore, leaving a gap between your thighs.

“There are people around, Ryuusei,” you tell him sternly, a last ditch effort to spur his advances.

You aren’t the least bit surprised when his only counter is a petulant, “so?”

His hand slides up further until his fingers brush against your covered pussy, and you bite your lip, ashamed that you’ve let him get to you like this.

“Sand,” you whine. “Don’t want…”

He hums in consideration then turns onto his back, rolling and propelling himself straight to his feet in one fluid motion. Annoying.

“To the showers, then,” he says, pulling you up.

He ignores your mumbling as he leads you to the little shower, on the beach for the purpose of rinsing sand off of sticky bodies. A little blue curtain is all that will block you from view. You’re supposed to keep your bathing suits on after all.

The water pressure isn’t strong, but it is enough to get the sand off both of you. You swear out loud as you pull your bottoms off. The dress is staying on; there’s no way you’re getting entirely naked. Shidou, on the other hand, shamelessly pushes his trunks all the way off, letting them pool on the wooden plans right next to yours.

You gasp when he suddenly spins you around, finding the strings of your top and tugging them loose.

“Get this shit off.”

He yanks the material over your head, turning you to face him again, and groans when he looks down at your chest. With your white dress entirely soaked, your hard nipples show through the sheerness. Shidou immediately starts groping you, his head falling back like he’s already on the verge of cumming just from playing with your tits.

It feels good, his palms rubbing over your sensitive buds before he pinches each one. You’d rather skip the foreplay, though, eager to have something inside you while also nervous about being caught.

To move things along you reach between your legs, running your middle finger between your folds and hating yourself for how wet you are. Like you’d said the other day, water makes a terrible lube, but if you’re already ridiculously slick, it doesn’t really matter.

You slip two fingers into your hole and scissor them apart, well aware that it’d be unwise to take Shidou without any prep. His cock is too pretty, something to be proud of, and he is. It’s thick and long, fat mushroom shaped head perfect for dragging against your walls.

“Yeah, you want it now, don’t ya?” he teases.

“Don’t push your luck.” It’s meant to be a warning, but you’re too breathless for it to have any weight.

Shidou abandons your chest in order to guide your hand away from yourself, replacing it with his own and fucking you with his longer fingers. He hikes one of your legs up, holding it to his hip, and as he stretches you out, he ruts his pelvis forward.

“Okay, I’m good,” you tell him. “I’m good, I’m ready.”

“Oh? Baby girl all cock hungry now?”

“Ryuuu,” you whine, grinding down on his hand.

“Only ‘cause you’re making such pretty sounds for me.”

He grabs your other leg, hoisting you up with the strength gained from years of dedicated workouts. You shift in his grasp until you feel the tip of his cock rub against your cunt. The amount of times the two of you have fucked, you know each others bodies well, and it’s almost second nature for you to guide him into your hole without the use of your hands.

Your mouth hangs open as he slides inside, the muscles in Shidou’s arms straining as he lowers you on his cock. You’re relying on him entirely. He’ll be in control as he supports you, and you’ll be completely helpless.

He doesn’t ask if you’re ready, if you’ve braced yourself, just starts bouncing you up and down. His fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, definitely creating bruises, and you steady yourself by tangling fingers in his hair. He’s so fucking hot like this, water running down his toned frame, blonde strands plastered to his face.

The way that you’re gripping his hair pushes his face into your tits, and Shidou groans like a porn star, lapping up the droplets that cover your chest.

Short moans are forced out if you with every bounce. Hn, hn, hn until Shidou starts moving you more aggressively and your jaw drops. Ah, ah, ah.

“Missed this sweet pussy,” Shidou pants. “Take my dick so good. Think she missed me too.”

You’re not a huge fan of him personifying your literal vagina, but you’re too far gone to chastise him for it. In fact, you agree, nodding and huffing, “I do, I do…”

His thrusts are shallow because of the position, but he still feels so good as he bullies your soft, gummy walls. The way you’re wrapped around him has your hard clit rubbing against his pelvis, the coarse hairs at the base of his cock beginning to rub you raw in a delicious way. You always did like a little pain with your pleasure, and Shidou is amazing at delivering just that.

“Really should open this curtain. Let everyone see how gorgeous you look getting fucked like this.”

“Don’t you dare,” you gasp.

“You sure? You don’t wanna put on a show for the guys? I bet they’d all get jealous.”

“Ryu, please!”

He bites the top of one of your tits then relents, rolling his striking eyes. “Fine.” His thick eyelashes are dripping with water, so pretty. “But only if you cum for me.”

You wouldn’t be able to if he hadn’t been fucking you so perfectly, cockhead massaging your g-spot, clit now overstimulated.

“Think you can do that for me, sweetness?”

You nod. “Are… are you close too?”

“‘’m always close when I’m fucking you,” he tells you. “Just looking at you gets me hard.”

Vulgar but flattering.

“You want me inside? Stuff this pussy full of cum?”

“Nnng, pleeease.”

You shouldn’t let him, shouldn’t reward him after how much he’s annoyed you on this vacation. But you love the feeling of him dripping out of you, thick and warm, enough to spill down your thighs. If you weren’t on birth control, you would never. As it is…

“Alright, cum for me then,” he commands. “Wanna feel your cunt milk me.”

Heat spreads from your pussy to the place between your hips, pooling into your tummy and traveling to your toes.

“Oh god, Ryu,” you sob, “I’m… don’t stop…”

He spreads his legs, squatting slightly so that his thighs can support some of your weight as he quickly rocks back and forth, his fat cock pistoning in and out of your spasming hole.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“m’gonna blow,” Shidou huffs. “Gonna fill you up… take my cum, baby, take all of it.”

It’s a subtle sensation, him spilling inside of you. You can’t feel every individual rope of cum, but you can feel your pussy getting fuller and fuller, stretching you even further. And then, you can feel it begin to leak out of you, coating Shidou’s cock as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you.

“Still as good as I remember,” he remarks, lifting you until he slips out of you before setting you back on wobbly legs.

He’s right, unfortunately. The best lay you’ve ever had.

“It was… nice,” you mumble regretfully. “Glad we’re already in a shower.”

“Convenient. Since you always get so messy,” he smirks.

“Because you make me messy.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

You rinse off the slimy fluid dripping down the insides of your legs, retrieve your bathing suit from the ground. The bottoms are easy enough to wiggle back into, but you have to ask Shidou for help with your top.

“You look so good without it, though, he says, but when you cast him a glare, he concedes. “Fine.”

As he ties it back around you, you can’t help but ask, “is it just the sundresses that did it for you? You like them that much?”

“I mean, I do like little dresses like this,” he confirms, trailing his hands down your ribs and pulling you back into him. “But anything you wear gets my dick hard. My jerseys, pajamas, your boring t-shirts n’ shit.”

“Boring but comfy.”

“And still sexy cause you’re the one wearing ‘em.”

Your stomach flutters in a familiar way, butterflies accompanied by dread. “Careful. You’re starting to sound awfully sweet, Ryu.”

You feel him shrug, his arms locked around you and his lips pressed to the skin behind your ear.

“What can I say? I missed you.”

You can’t even formulate a response to that, refusing to get your hopes up. The vacation will be over soon, and Shidou will go back to being a fuckboy. You’re not about to let him hurt you again.

So you shake your head and step out of his arms then bend down to grab his swim trunks off the ground.

“Put your pants back on,” you sigh, and, taking a page out of his book, you leave him with a casualness that you hope will mess with his head in the coming days. Just like this whole encounter is sure to mess with yours.

2023©️shidou-x. please do not plagiarize, edit, or share my work to any other platforms.

#shidou ryuusei x reader #shidou ryuusei smut #shidou x reader #shidou smut #bllk x reader #sundressszncollab

[billthedrake]

Another story idea given by @maturedadsandmen

BIRD IN THE HAND

Cole Walker was about two blocks from his destination when his phone rang. He normally wouldn't answer it, but it was his sorta-kinda boyfriend/fuckbuddy John. Cole still made fun of John for still preferring to call instead of just text, but that's what you get sometimes for dating a man much older.

"Hey," the 24 year old answered. DC weather had moved from cold to brisk and his cheeks were flush.

"Hiya sexy," the said. John's voice was a craggy tenor, with an upstate New York accent. "Just wanted to hear your voice."

Cole smiled. The whole arrangement with John was weird, to say the least. The congressional staffer didn't even know the guy's last name. John was an FBI agent who was VERY closeted. In a town like DC, that wasn't unusual, and Cole himself had only told a couple of close friends that he was gay. But John seemed to want the boyfriend stuff as much as the sex. Cuddling, long talks, dates. All while being crazy protective of his privacy.

"Tough day?" Cole asked. He wished he didn't feel so eager to talk to the man, but it wasn't like he was ready for an open boyfriend either. The fact the federal agent was 47 made something real and public seem impossible to the younger man. He, too, enjoyed the play-pretend nature of their dating if he was honest with himself.

"And how," John breathed. "I'm about to meet a buddy for dinner, but I wanted to call... we still on for date night Saturday? I'll take you somewhere nice." It was only then that Cole could tell the man was in a public place and talking a little quieter than normal.

"Yeah," Cole replied. "And you don't have to go all out. I just enjoy seeing you."

There was a contrite pause on the other end. "I know I've not been good at things lately.. but would it be pushing my luck to have you stay over this time?"

Cole's heart pounded. It was hard to hold a grudge. "No, not at all."

John's volume got lower. "Damn, studly," he hissed. "That's gonna help me get through this week all right."

"Yeah," the younger man chimed in.

"Listen... I gotta go. But see you Saturday?"

"Yep," Cole replied. "Looking forward to it."

After they hung up, Cole felt guilty. It wasn't like he and John were boyfriends, really, not in the conventional sense, and they'd never said anything about being exclusive. If the agent ever asked, Cole would very likely agree to be a one-man guy but until then...

But the real reason he felt guilty is that Paul Ricciardi pushed his buttons in a different way than John. Cole dubbed him the "Head Honcho" is his mind, and while Ricciardi wasn't the number one guy at the Bureau, he wasn't that far down the org chart. In a lot of ways, he was the opposite of John - married and addicted to down-low sex, more dominant in bed, and confident in hooking up with a recently graduated dude despite his high-profile position. He knew Cole Walker was after dick and wasn't gonna blab to anyone.

Paul was just wrapping up a phone call when he heard the buzzer of the apartment. The rental was justified as a place to crash for late nights, but certainly his wife knew her 53-year-old husband kept on an affair, maybe more than one. They just never talked about it. The dont-ask-dont-tell approach worked for the law man.

Ricciardi's gruff face cracked a smile when he opened the door to see Cole. Dudes like this were dime a dozen in DC... congressional staffer, needy bottom, daddy issues galore. But this Walker kid was exceptional: he'd played soccer at Georgetown and his bulking up since graduation had interfered with that youthful jock look. The real deal. No two ways about, Cole was gorgeous. Just the right amount of masculine, the right amount of cute, total boy-next-door who still carried that jock gain as he walked in.

"Hey," Cole's voice said, quietly as he walked in. He respected Paul's need for discretion, it was almost intuitive.

"Hey," the career law enforcement man whispered in a soft growl, shutting the door. "You look hot as fuck."

Cole's eyes swept up Ricciardi's build. Mid-50s and fit as ever, the toned daddy beef filling out Paul's conservative but expensive suit and the short-cropped gray hair setting off the intensity of the man's brown eyes. The tie was loosened but other wise he was a poster boy for Bureau leadership. "You too," he gulped.

Paul grinned and reached up to cup the back of Cole's neck, yanking the younger man into a hot kiss.

Cole moaned into Paul's mouth as that thick tongue conquered him. He could taste scotch and smell the man's cologne. Reflexes kicked in as he reached forward to hold the man's suited waist, enjoying the feel of the Head Honcho's hard body beneath.

The kiss was over as quickly as it started. Ricciardi stepped back and reached down to unzip his suit trousers. The man wasn't overly hung - like John, his cock was meaty, even fat. "Gonna suck Daddy's cock, kid?" Paul roughly growled.

"Fuck yes," Cole said. He's been with only six men since first becoming sexually active at 21. But he quickly realized he was all bottom - orally and anally. He was still surprised he'd bagged two FBI men over the last year and a half. Luck, for sure, but it was also clear the ex-soccer jock had a type. Both Paul and John were strong, silent daddy personalities. His own father was a PA state trooper, and one day Cole would have to analyze the fucked-up part of his head that got turned on by that. Or not. Maybe it was something that could never fully be explained - it's just something about a law enforcement man pushed his buttons big time.

Paul Ricciardi was careful about who he fucked. He had a one-at-a-time rule, for the sake of discretion. By now, he'd had his share of hot young men. He'd met some real sluts and a couple of ex-jocks like Cole. But no one had combined that effortless masculinity with a real bottom eagerness like this kid.

"Fuck yeah," he growled as Cole began deep throating that fat hog. "Swallow Daddy."

More than he realized Cole was worked up that evening. He would have chalked it up to missing this cock, but actually Paul had reached out to him more frequently lately, no longer the once a month booty call. Maybe the more he had it, the more he wanted it.

That hand now clasped the back of Cole's neck and held tight as Paul's hips went into overdrive. Fast hard jabs battered the back of Cole's gullet. It was too much, and Cole coughed some on it, which made Paul pause before starting a gentler, if no less deep, thrusting.

Finally he pulled out, that dick spit wet and rock hard. It was beautiful to Cole. Like with John, he decided he liked the extra girth more than he craved extra length. For as bottomy as he was, the young stud wasn't a size queen. He'd prefer a tool that could use him without too much discomfort.

"To the bedroom, kid," Paul hissed, a hint of a smile cracking on the stern face. He was used to being in charge in every aspect of his life. He was in charge now. But something about this jock stud made him feel a little less in control.

Cole scrambled up. He'd learned to come over to Paul's prepared. Sometimes the two took their time, sometimes the married man seeded him in two minutes flat and sent him back home. As they entered the spare bedroom for the apartment, Cole quickly peeled off his sweatshirt and T in one move and just as quickly kicked off his sneakers and peeled down the jeans. There was nothing underneath and his own hardon stood up erect and excited. Cole may not have had the girth of his boyfriend or this man, but he was hung longer and the sparser crotch hair made his jock bone look even longer.

Paul was taking off his suit and laying it on a chair. He'd hang it up later. For now, his ravenous eyes were on Cole as he got onto the bed, on all fours. They didn't always mate this way but it was Ricciardi's favorite position, and Cole's too, thought they'd never talked about it. They just fucked.

Then watched the Head Honcho step toward the bed, his body tightly dense from dedicated workouts. The chest fur wasn't as silver as his hair, but it was getting there, and it got denser the closer toward that magic cock, which was already dripping.

"Damn, when was the last time you got off?" Cole asked.

Paul climbed on the bed and ran his hand over the ex-jock's dusty haired but half smooth rump. "Fucked the wife yesterday," he hissed. "I'm just a horny guy."

"I'll say," Cole replied. He didn't know what he thought about fooling around with a married man. It probably wasn't the moral thing to do. At least John was single, or said he was single. Maybe the man lied, hence the lack of a last name.

Then Cole felt the nuzzling of the man's face in his clean crack and the contact of that thick tongue. John was actually better at rimming, or at least liked to go longer, but something about Paul's intensity drove him wild. "Yes," he hissed backing his ass back against the man's munching face. A hard slap hit his cheek as the Head Honcho dove in more eagerly. It was gonna be a quick one, but Ricciardi was a grade-A ass man and could rarely resist a taste of Cole's jock hole.

"Goddamn," the FBI man finally said as he leaned up. Cole could feel that hard beef press against his back as Paul reached over for some lube. Just a squirt, not too much... Ricciardi liked a snug ride.

The man quickly fingere Cole and almost as quickly lined up that fat prick to press in.

Cole's deflowering, the night after his 21st birthday, had been by a very patient man, and he'd lucked out to find a couple of tops who knew how to go slow at first. Paul Ricciardi was the first man to show Cole he didn't always need slow.

That dick popped in now, snapping open the elasticity of the young man's pucker.

"Fuck yes!" Paul growled. He leaned forward again, covering Cole's smooth back with his own meaty furry one. "You feel that kid?"

"God yes," Cole hissed. Maybe it was the rank or the badge, but everything about Paul turned him on and made this FAR easier than he'd ever imagine. He even enjoyed the crude way Ricciardi's bone just barreled in further, past his internal tightness. "Fuck me, man."

That was Paul's cue, his green light. Wrapping an arm around Cole's shoulder and neck, he held on tightly and thrust all the way into the hot stud. Barely taking a rest, he began fucking, hard.

"Oh fuck!" Cole whimpered. He wished he could keep his normally deep voice low, but the pitch rose once Paul reamed him like this. "Oh god, oh fuck!"

A hand clasped over his mouth. Paul wasn't overly verbal today, though he could be. Instead he gripped the kid close and rode him hard. It had been a tough week and he needed a fuck like this to channel his stress.

Each mating like this made Cole wonder if it could get better. His prick was now leaking like crazy on Paul's bedsheets and his muscles flexed involuntarily in the man's strong grip.

THIS is what made him feel about going around behind John's back. Cole wished to god that John could fuck like this, or would fuck like this. The Head Honcho was even less available a man than John, but he outmanned Cole's boyfriend in the sack.

BAM, BAM, BAM. Paul's fat cock was relentless now. Some guys couldn't take it. Cole could, and would. The very knowledge had the FBI big-wig's prick getting slick with his own precum.

Cole concentrated and forced himself to quiet his moans. The hand unclasped from his mouth and moved to feel up more of the ex-soccer jock's lean body.

"You're close," he heard. Paul wasn't asking a question.

Cole forced his voice back to its deeper register. "Yah." He felt light headed now. Before Paul he thought hands-free cums were a myth. They weren't though, and he was about to offer proof again now.

"Oh shit," he breathed in a whisper. His dick jerked and the first spray of precum jetted out, matching what Paul was pushing deeper and deep into his guts with each hard jab.

BAM, BAM, BAM. The fucking was harder and faster, if possible, only Ricciardi was starting to lose his cadence. The man was orgasming now.

Cole's dick now jerked again, and the cum flew out. Seven heavy ropes of young cum being pressed out from within. Cole didn't pass out exactly, but he lost focus, like he'd sucked too many poppers at once.

Paul's body slowed and now rested immobile on his back. A light kiss was the one gesture of affection Ricciardi offered him, ever, but the simple act was more powerful for it. Cole wished he could have experienced his partner's cum more vividly, but the payoff of the simultaneous orgasm made up for it. He and John had done that once.

Paul rolled his muscular, FBI-fit body off his sexual conquest and lazily plopped onto the mattress. He was sweaty and handsome as fuck and his prick still twitched in its wetness, semen oozing out of the tip.

Just as lazily Ricciardi reached over to stroke Cole's side as the younger stud gingerly stretched his legs and lay on his back. "Remind me to thank your boyfriend for the hall pass," he hissed.

Cole had told the Head Honcho that he was seeing someone. He's admitted it to put Paul at ease for a discreet hookup, but he regretted sharing that info now. "He doesn't know, actually."

Paul chuckled. "I thought you said you had an arrangement... but that's cool, kid."

Cole felt embarrassed. "I mean, we don't have an exclusive thing, but I guess I haven't gone into details with him."

Normally the Head Honcho would be getting up, going to piss, showering off, or just slipping on some sweat pants in a clear signal it was Cole's time to go. Instead the man's eyes seemed not to get enough of the 24-year old and his hand moved up to gingerly stroke Cole's cute-handsome face.

"Well, I'm glad this works out for you," Ricciardi said. "I know I come on strong, but you're really fucking hot."

"I know," Cole smiled. He knew his worth, but it was also a joke.

Paul got it, chuckling. "As you can tell, I'm a busy man... but I'd love to see you a little more often. If it works out with you and your boyfriend." For a take-charge man, he seemed surprisingly shy in his request.

"That's be hot," Cole said. Paul Ricciardi didn't kiss as much as Cole would like, almost never after the act itself. But it was hard to give up the man's harder approach in bed and his overall sexiness. "You're really fucking hot, too."

"I know," Paul repeated Cole's joke back to him in perfect timing. "Am I hotter than your boyfriend?" he asked with a wink, then patted Cole's chest. "Sorry, that was my male competitiveness kicking in."

Cole nodded. He wasn't going to give Paul the satisfaction of an answer. Besides he didn't know how he would answer. John was sexy as fuck, too, and reminded Cole a lot of Paul in his stature, build, and appearance. "Maybe I shouldn't admit this but he works for the bureau, too."

"Yeah?" he smirked.

"Yeah," Cole nodded. He was glad to see Paul's laid back side. Maybe being married, the man wasn't bothered by hearing about another man. Lazily, the man's fingers caressed Cole's chest muscle. "John. A field agent," Cole said, opening up. He'd not been able to tell a single other soul about the most important development of his life over the last year. It turns out this DL hookup with a DC big shot gave him the only opportunity. He blushed as he added, "Funny thing is I don't even know his last name. He's super closeted. Always going on about how he's married to the Bureau and doesn't have time for anything else."

"Sounds like my brother Jo..." Paul stopped, his face growing beet red and his fingers pausing in their motion on Cole's naked body. "Jesus Christ, you're not fucking my brother are you?"

Cole was taken aback. The idea was crazy and yet once Paul said, he knew it was possible, even likely. The resemblance wasn't dead-on, but it wasn't far apart either. "I dunno," he stammered. "Fuck."

Paul got out of bed and Cole felt bad. Ashamed but also pissed. This guy was probably overreacting. There had to be a thousand Johns in the Bureau. But judging from the Head Honcho's reaction, Cole worried he'd fucked up a good thing.

Only Paul's expression wasn't anger as he walked back in. He had his phone in his hand. He slid back into bed and held it up. There was a photo of John already, probably taken a year ago at the beach, the agent in chino shorts and a casual polo, barefoot in the sand at sunset.

"Is that him?" Paul asked, like he was interrogating a suspect.

Cole nodded, tears welling at the edge of his eyes. "Sorry, Paul," he muttered. "Fuck, I didn't know."

Paul gave a grimace which was strangely comforting as he set down his phone. "I know you didn't, kiddo." He gave Cole a good look, like he was still trying to process things. "Confirmed bachelor, my ass," he laughed cynically.

"I don't know... he's kept things casual with us. Sometimes I think it's more a fuck buddy thing, you know?" Cole was trying to make it sound better, but the more he talked the more he realized it was sounding worse.

Paul had one last shake of the head. "Well, my brother had good fucking taste... I'll give him that." Then, "maybe you should go, OK?"

His tone was surprisingly empathetic, not mean. Cole could tell Paul was feeling concern that he'd encroached in onto his brother's guy and was processing the fact John was very probably full-on gay. And maybe the Head Honcho was worried how Cole was processing all this.

"Yeah," the ex-jock said, quickly gathering his clothes to put back on.

"Don't worry, kid," Paul said, leaning up in his bed, still naked and hunky looking. "This shit happens. Well, maybe not very often, but it's nothing to get freaked over."

"I'm OK," Cole said gamely. A million thoughts were racing in his mind but one worry in particular.

"But what?" Ricciairdi prompted, able to tell something was bugging the young guy.

"I shouldn't admit this," Cole said. "But I'm gonna miss the sex we've had."

Paul's brown eyes sought his and it was like their connection was a spark of energy. "Me, too, kid, me too."

Cole Walker thought about those words the whole walk back to his apartment.

#drakestories

[in1-nutshell]

Hey me again with old Predacon buddy maybe have Predacon buddy join Bee's team how would the other Autobots react meeting old Predacon buddy

Bot Buddy the Old Predacon is just traveling where ever their wisdom is needed.

I combined this one and another request that was similar to this one.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Old Predacon meets Team Bee

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

RiD2015

When Buddy dreamt about Prime, they half thought it was finally their time.

But then the idea ruled out as the Prime told them that Bumblebee needed help with his situation with his team on Earth.

Buddy is ready to tear down any wall that stands in their way.

No wonder Bumblebee hadn’t been returning their calls.

He was all the way down on Earth.

And with a team?

What situation?!

What was going on?!

Buddy was getting too old for this.

Thankfully a spacebridge was provided for them.

Buddy had to admit they missed Earth.

Less alt mode judgement here

As soon as Buddy caught a whiff of Bee’s scent, they were off in the night sky.

Once they were near a scrapyard the scent had gotten stronger.

Buddy carefully descended nearby the tall trees and took a moment to sit.

Buddy venting a bit.

“This is definitely not going to be easy this time around.”--Buddy

Snap!

Buddy turns their helm towards a small human boy.

“…I didn’t know Dinobots got this big.”

“I’m not a Dinobot kiddo. Wait how do you know about Dinobots?”--Buddy

The human boy scratches his head a bit.

Buddy raising their optic a bit.

“You’ve met one haven’t you.”--Buddy

“What if I did?”

Buddy pauses before chuckling a bit.

“You have some spunk kiddo I’ll give you that.”--Buddy

“My name is not ‘kiddo’.”

“Then what is your name my little friend?”--Buddy

“Russel.”--Russel

“Russel… that sounds like a nice name.”--Buddy

“Really? I mean sure, I guess. What’s yours?”--Russel

“Buddy. And before you go ‘Buddy?’ ‘That’s a weird name.’ or ‘I thought it would be Maimer or Bonecruncher.’ Yes, that is my name.”--Buddy

“I mean you do seem like a nice Con—”--Russel

“Not a Con. I am a Autobot, specifically a Predacon.”--Buddy

“Predacon? Is that something like a Dinobot?”--Russel

“Not exactly. My species is an old one from Cybertron’s earliest years.”--Buddy

“…So. you said you were an Autobot, huh? Prove it.”--Russel

Buddy tilting their helm.

“How do you want me to prove that?”--Buddy

Russel humms while tapping his foot.

“…I don’t know.”--Russel

Buddy laughs a little.

“You’ve mention Dinobot’s an awful lot. Mind showing me your friends. I’m trying to find one myself.”--Buddy

“You lost your friend?”--Russel

Buddy huffs a bit.

“More like ‘Let-me-drop-off-the-face-of-Cybertron-not-tell-anyone-and-let a dream-let-them-know where-I-am’.”--Buddy

Russel laughs a bit before stopping.

“What’s you friends name?”--Russel

“A young mech name Bumblebee.”--Buddy

Russels eyes go wide.

“You know him?”--Buddy

“Know him? He’s my friend too!”--Russel

Buddy chuckles a bit.

“Bumblebee always did have a way with humans. Well now, what are we waiting for.”--Buddy

Buddy rests their helm in front of Russel.

“We’ll cover more ground like this.”--Buddy

Russel smiles.

“Awesome!”--Russel

He climbs onto Buddy’s helm, carefully minding the optics.

Buddy slowly lifts their helm up.

Buddy motions towards the scrapyard.

“Is he over there?”--Buddy

“Yep! That’s where the Team is and my dad.”--Russel

Buddy starts walking towards the Scrapyard.

“Hopefully this will go better than last time.”--Buddy

“What happened last time?”--Rissel

“…I’ll tell you that story another time.”--Buddy

To say there was a bit of panic when a giant metal dragon showed up in the scrapyard was a bit of an understatement.

The dragon was bigger than Grimlock!

And they weren’t even standing up straight!

Buddy simply looked around to see if they saw Bee anywhere.

The group of Autobots had their weapons out and… was that a minibot?

Buddy hadn’t seen one of them in a while.

“Hello!”--Buddy

Most of the Autobots draw out their weapons, minus Grimlock who just transforms into his Dinobot mode.

“Oh! This was the Dinobot you were telling me about Russel?”--Buddy

Russel’s head pops up from on top of Buddy’s helm.

“Yep! Hey guys! Their friendly!”--Russel

“Russel get down from there!”--Drift

“But like how? It not like I can jump down with out break my knees if I wanted to.”--Russel

Buddy slowly lowers their helm so Russel could climb down.

“If you wanted down, all you need to do was ask.”--Buddy

Russel jumps off the last set while Buddy raises their helm back at the Autobots.

“Have any of you seen Bumblebee? I have been looking for him.”--Buddy

Strongarm tensing her shoulders.

“What do you want with the lieutenant?”--Strongarm

“Well first off, lower your—”--Buddy

“No, we are not going to lower our weapons. The first thing your going to do is make us into scrap metal the second we do.”--Sideswipe

“What is the name of Ratchet’s rusty knee joints is going on?!”--Bumblebee

Buddy and Bee stare at each other.

Buddy jumps on to Bee’s chassis making the other scream and try to pry them off of him.

They aren’t lucky.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF CYBERTRON WHERE YOU THINKING!? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS WHEN YOU WEREN’T ANSWERING MY CALLS!”--Buddy

Bumblebee shrinking a bit.

Buddy expands their wings throwing everyone off.

“I swear to Prime’s spark, if you EVER think about pulling a stunt like that AGAIN I will personally go into the Well of Allspark myself and drag Prime out so we can both give you the scolding of a life time!”--Buddy

Bee chuckles nervously.

“Its good to see you too Buddy.”--Bumblebee

Buddy stops scolding and wraps their wings around the young bot tightly.

“…Anyone care to explain what just happened?!”--Sideswipe

Bee was relieved to finally have some help around.

Buddy was an excellent voice of reason when he felt like he was being a bad leader.

Also a voice to knock some sense into him sometimes.

Whether it be literally or figuratively.

Buddy whacking Bee on the helm.

“What kind of stunt were you trying to pull back there?!”--Buddy

“Well Optimus did it—”--Bumblebee

“Optimus did his things with his limits. You have to do your things with your limits.”--Buddy

“But what if that’s not good enough for the team? It will be my fault if we loose.”--Bumblebee

Buddy sits by Bee.

“Bumblebee, you’re the leader, of course its going to be your fault.”--Buddy

Bee giving them an unimpressed look.

“You know this is the part where you help me—”--Bumblebee

Buddy whacks him in the helm again.

“Will you quit doing that!”--Bumblebee

“When you learn to let me finish.”--Buddy

Be aggressively rubs his helm.

“Everything is going to be your fault one way or the other. As leader you need to accept that. The same way you need to accept that your limits and Prime are different. You both are accomplishing different things in different ways. His ways may not be the best for your situation, as I see it, you have to try some things your way.”--Buddy

“…Thanks Buddy.”--Bumblebee

Buddy chuckling a bit before stretching a bit.

Buddy grunting a bit as some of the joints pop hard.

“Hey, you okay?”--Bumblebee

Buddy giving him a bit of a tired smile.

“I’ll be fine little one. These old joints still work fine.”--Buddy

Strongarm and Sideswipe constantly tried to impress the old Predacon with stunts and facts.

Buddy loved seeing them try and impress them. It was a great source entertainment on slow days.

Though Buddy definitely put their pede down when things got a little too out of hand.

Buddy laying on top of Sideswipe and Strongarm.

The two are grunting and trying to get out of the Predacon’s weight.

“Get! Off!”--Strongarm

Buddy unamused and unbothered.

“Have the both of you decided to apologize to each other?”--Buddy

“Never!”--Sideswipe

Bumblebee walks by and spots them.

“They were fighting again?”--Bumblebee

Buddy just nods their helm looking at their claws.

“Bumblebee! Help a bot out!”--Sideswipe

Bumblebee backing off a bit.

“Yeah not doing that. The quickest way your getting out is if you apologize, trust me.”--Bumblebee

“Wait what did you do to get this?”--Sideswipe

Buddy and Bee have a flashback to him and Smokescreen under Buddy’s weight.

“That’s a story for another time.”--Buddy

Buddy stretches their tail a bit.

SQUEAK!

“…”--Everyone

“Not. A. Word.”—Buddy

“Yes Buddy.”—Bumblebee, Strongarm, and Sideswipe

Grimlock loved being around Buddy.

Finally, someone who understood the struggle of having an alt mode that wasn’t a vehicle!

Grimlock loves hearing all the stories Buddy has.

He means everyone.

From the happy ones.

To the sad ones.

To the funny ones.

And the serious ones.

It surprised him a lot how well Buddy kept up with him and how many times they would win during sparring matches.

After another victory from Buddy.

“Wooowie! That was fun!”--Grimlock

“Sure, was Grimlock.”--Buddy

“Wanna go another round?”--Grimlock

Buddy already laying down on the sunny part of their training ‘arena’.

“Maybe in a bit Grimlock. I’m a bit tired out.”--Buddy

Grimlock looks at them confused.

“But its only been half an hour? The team usually does an hour before we take a break.”--Grimlock

Buddy chuckles a bit getting comfortable as Grimlock sit in front of them.

“Well I am a bit older Grimlock, this frame is only going to go so far with my age.”--Buddy

Grimlock now laying down in front of them.

“Okay, then I guess I’ll nap here too.”

“You don’t have to Grimlock.”--Buddy

“Nuh nuh. I’m staying right here.”--Grimlock

Buddy smiles a bit before tucking their helm into their wings while draping their tail over Grimlock’s as they both take a nap under the warm sun.

Drift and the minis were a bit cautious at first.

Drift thought Buddy was going to be another Grimlock.

Except older and bulkier.

But he was sorely mistaken.

Drift never imagined a Predacon such as Buddy to be so fluid with their fighting motions, even when training.

The samurai has defiantly asked Buddy to be his sparring partner more than once.

He was not immune from the grandparent vibes.

His mini’s loved hearing Buddy’s stories with Russel.

Drift coming back from patrol to see the mini’s and Russel sitting down as Buddy acted out something.

Drift couldn’t hear what Buddy was saying.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”--Denny

“I do not know.”--Drift

Buddy makes the motion of a sword going through a body.

“…Maybe its something they saw on TV once?”--Denny

Buddy now mimics the motion of body slamming something.

“…I do not think so.”--Drift

One thing the team did notice was Buddy sometimes having trouble flying for long periods of time or remembering where things were.

It was the least they could do.

Bumblebee is especially vigilante over Buddy’s little problems.

Everyone wants to do their part in helping the ageing Predacon with their life when they helped them so much. Even do some less exciting things with them.

Buddy starts to lay down in a shady spot in the scrapyard.

“You’re not going to your sunny spot today?”--Russel

Buddy shaking their helm.

Russel just sits next to Buddy’s helm and leans back.

“Russel? What are you doing?”--Buddy

“I’m going to take a nap here.”--Russel

“You don’t need to. I’m sure the rest of the team—”--Buddy

“—is coming over.”--Russel

“What?”--Buddy

The team shows up and starts getting ready to take a mid-day nap with Buddy.

Buddy raises their wings and tail and carefully drapes them on their little family.

This is nice.

#tf rid15 #tf rid 2015 x platonic reader #bot buddy #maccadam #transformers x reader

[storiesforallfandoms]

favoritism ~ pete davidson

word count: 2171

request?: yes!

@absstark​ “Hi! Ik your requests are closed atm but if u are able to, would you please be able to write me a Pete Davidson x female reader where they are dating and she’s a writer at SNL? Thank you 😊”

description: in which he’s dating one of the writers of his show, so the cast often jokes about her favoritism for him

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

It was actually quite ironic how everything started.

Pete was out at a bar with a couple of his SNL friends when he noticed a pretty girl sat by herself. He didn’t want to seem like a weird guy by just staring at her, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

He felt someone nudge him and he looked up to see they were all looking at him. “Sorry, what were you guys saying?”

Colin smirked at him. “Go talk to her/”

“What? No, I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” Michael asked. “She’s alone over there.”

“For one, we don’t know if she’s actually here alone. She might have a date who’s in the bathroom, or she’s waiting for him to show up. She might even have a boyfriend who’s not here. And two, girls don’t like being approached by strange men in bars. She’ll probably think I’m a fucking creep.”

They were all giving him a similar look before Devon grabbed his shoulders, turned him towards the bar, and gave him a shove. He stumbled slightly, almost bumping into another person along the way. He regained his footing and glanced over at the woman to make sure she hadn’t seen. With the encouragement of his friends, he took a deep breath and made his way across the bar.

“Hey,” he started, very lamely. She looked up and gave him a polite smile. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, but my buddies kind of peer pressured me to come talk to you and I’m mainly doing this to get them off my back. If you just want to reject me, I’ll happily back off.”

She chuckled and glanced over Pete’s shoulder. “Are they the group very obviously staring at us right now?”

Pete followed her gaze to see his friends watching them like a pack of hawks. They didn’t even have the decency to look away when they were caught. Colin even smiled and waved his fingers at them.

“Yeah, those are my asshole friends,” Pete confirmed.

She smiled and waved at the group before turning back to Pete. “Here, sit with me. Give them something to talk about.”

Pete pulled up a stool next to her. He extended a hand towards her. “I’m Pete.”

“(Y/N). Nice to meet you.”

They talked at the bar for hours. They hardly noticed the other patrons starting to clear out or the blaring music starting to die down as the bar did its last call. Pete didn’t even notice his friends had left until the bartender had come to give them the last warning before closing. Before they parted ways, (Y/N) gave Pete  her number and told him to text her the next day.

“Just so I know you’re actually interested,” she had said before walking away.

And he had. The moment he woke up, he texted her, “Hope texting you this soon doesn’t seem to desperate, but I’m very interested - Pete.”

Near seconds later, he got a response. “I’d be a hypocrite if I called you desperate. I’ve been waiting for you to text me since I woke up.”

They texted back and forth all day. Pete was almost late to work because he was too busy texting to realize the time. When he arrived on set he was radiating with happiness. He hadn’t felt hits way in a long time. He had a really good feeling about this one. A strong feeling he hadn’t had before in any of his relationships. There was no doubts this time around.

His castmates noticed his good mood and asked what was up, but he just responded with a shrug and played it off. The guys who had been out the night before knew exactly where his good mood was coming from, but Pete decided to keep it to himself. He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself and tell everyone about (Y/N) just yet.

“Hey, Pete!” Lorne called as he spotted Pete making his way to set.

“Hey Lorne,” Pete said. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to introduce you to our new writer. She’s starting today, so try not to scare her away just yet.”

Pete chuckled, but it died off when Lorne stepped aside and gestured to the newbie. “(Y/N)?”

Her eyes widened, too. “Pete?”

“You two know each other?” Lorne asked.

“We met last night,” (Y/N) responded.

Lorne looked between the two of them. “You...met last night?”

“Not like that,” Pete assured him. “We met at a bar and just talked all night. We exchanged numbers, that’s it.”

Lorne had a skeptical look on his face that made Pete’s heart drop to his stomach. He knew how this was about to go: he would have to delete (Y/N)’s number and their messages, and he’d have to forget their would be romance before it even started. It was a HR issue, one that they would definitely not be allowed to explore.

This was the quickest broken heart he had ever gotten.

“You know, technically I should be sending you to HR to discuss this,” Lorne started. Both (Y/N) and Pete winced at the idea. “But that’s a lot of time and paperwork, and all that bullshit. So, I’m going to take both of your vocal promises that whatever this is will not interfere with either of your jobs.”

The two of them happily agreed. Lorne nodded and muttered something about leaving before he witnessed something he shouldn’t. That left (Y/N) and Pete alone, a slightly awkward tension in the air.

“You didn’t mention that you’re working for SNL,” Pete said. He meant it to come out lighthearted, but he winced when he realized how accusatory it actually sounded.

“I...actually didn’t know you were on the show,” she admitted. “You never mentioned it. You just said you were an actor.”

Pete chuckled. “Okay, we were both a little untruthful. Maybe we start over on the introductions.” He held his hand out to her. “Hi, I’m Pete. I’m a main actor on  Saturday Night Live.”

(Y/N) giggled and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Pete. I’m (Y/N), and I just got hired to write for Saturday Night Live.”

“Well, congratulations. And good luck on it. I heard the cast are all assholes, except for that Pete guy. So make sure you give all the funniest jokes to him.”

(Y/N) giggled again, looking down at the ground between them shyly.

It was the start to an amazing relationship. Pete could honestly say he hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time. They kept their personal lives separate from their work lives, which seemed to be the big key to making things work. Nothing was ever discussed about the show unless they were on set, and the minute they walked on the lost their relationship was put on the back burner until they left.

But the moments they had outside of work were some of the best moments of his life. He loved being with (Y/N) and spending most of his free time with her. He was trying not to go too fast with their relationship the way he had in past relationships, but it was hard not to be a bit optimistic with how well things were going.

Of course, dating a co-worker came with some teasing from other co-workers; especially when the other co-workers were fellow comedians. The main joke that the cast liked to tell was that Pete was getting favoritism from (Y/N) when it came to being given the best jokes.

It started during the table read for a skit. They were about halfway through when Punkie cut Pete off mid-joke to proclaim, “No fair, he’s getting the best jokes!”

Everyone stopped to look at her in confusion. They couldn’t tell if the look on her face was serious or not, so Pete asked, “Excuse me?”

“Your jokes here are so much better than mine,” Punkie said. “Must be nice sleeping with one of the writers.”

Punkie laughed, but Pete looked horrified by her “joke”.

“(Y/N) didn’t even write this sketch,” Kenan pointed out.

“That’s a very serious accusation, Punkie,” one of the producers commented.

“Come on, guys, it’s just a joke,” Punkie said. “I’m not mad. Just keep reading.”

Once they finished the table read, Pete decided to approach Punkie himself. “Hey, Punkie, listen. I know what you said was a joke, but...can you maybe be mindful of the way you say it? You could get (Y/N) into a lot of trouble if the wrong people heard what you said.”

“Pete, I didn’t mean it. Everyone knows (Y/N) isn’t actually giving you favoritism in the sketches.”

“I know, I’m just saying to work on your delivery. I really don’t want to have to deal with HR.”

“Okay, I get it. I’ll try to be more funny about it next time.”

And that was truly the wrong thing for Pete to say; for him to agree that if it was clearly said as a joke, that it was fine to say that (Y/N) favorited him. Because once he made the distinction that it was okay to do it in a joking matter, it was like the entire cast had decided they wanted to joke about Pete and (Y/N). It wasn’t anything new for the cast, they joked around with each other all the time. They were all friends, and you had to have a sense of humor if you were gonna be on SNL.

But man, after some time, Pete found it so much more annoying than his castmates meant it to be. He was trying so hard to separate his work life from his personal life, like Lorne had wanted, but now it was like his personal life was open season for all of his friends.

And it was definitely something (Y/N) had noticed. The jokes were never made to her face the same way they were to Pete’s, but she heard the whisperings or the aftermath of certain jokes when approaching Pete. She never said anything at first, which made Pete hope that maybe it didn’t bother her as much as it bothered him.

But one night, as they were leaving set, Pete noticed that (Y/N) seemed distracted. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him as they walked through the doors onto the lot.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked.

(Y/N) nibbled on the inside of her cheek before she spoke, “Do your castmates really think I favorite you when writing?”

Pete stopped walking suddenly, causing (Y/N) to stumble a little. He turned to face her and she did the same.

“Baby, of course not. They’re only joking when they say that shit. No one actually believes it,” he assured her.

She shrugged. “I guess, but they say it so much. I’m starting to worry that they actually mean it but don’t want to say it, which could get us both in a lot of trouble if it ever comes back to HR.”

Pete put his hands on her shoulders. “Baby, I promise they do not mean it. If it ever got to HR, they would all swear up and down that they’re joking. They just like to poke fun at me because I had to fall in love with a new writer on set, out of all people. But it’s not serious, I can promise you that.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You fell in love with me, huh?”

Pete couldn’t help but smile too as his hands ran down her arms to take hers. “I would think that’s pretty obvious by now.”

“You haven’t said the big L word before,” she said. “So, I don’t know, I thought maybe this was all just for fun.”

He chuckled, knowing that she was joking about the last part. They both knew they were in this relationship for the long run. There was nothing “just for fun” about it.

But she was right in saying that he hadn’t said the big three words to her yet. Although he knew deep in his heart that he did love (Y/N), he hadn’t been ready to say the words to her just yet.

That big L word was out there now, though. So, realisitically, he was part way there.

“I love you,” he said.

He didn’t think the smile on (Y/N)’s face could get any wider, but it did. She lit up like Times Square and leaned closer to him.

“I love you, too.”

They closed the gap between them to kiss. It was meant to be a sweet, romantic moment for the two of them, but it was quickly cut off by someone calling, “Get a room you two!”

They pulled apart, chuckling at the reaction, before deciding to go home and do just that.

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